# The Mother of Dreams - Episode 5 (updated February 1st, 2005)



## RangerWickett (May 27, 2004)

*Introduction:*
As the world begins a renaissance of discovery, nobles and kings sponsor adventurers to explore the ruins of ancient ages.  One such group of professional heroes falls upon a trail to an old, sinister plot that has not yet run its course.  But these heroes, the quest is just another job, and saving the world is not as important as finding friendship and a place in the world.



This is a serialized fantasy story, not an accounting of a game.  I know that may turn some of you off, but please, bear with me.  Unlike a standard storyhour, the updates for this story will each be between 5 and 10 pages long, intended as actual chapters rather than the quick vignets that are popular now.  I'm writing this story like I'd write a serial novel, so if you're interested in reading it, read it as such.

Take a few minutes to read the first post, and if you find yourself wanting to know what happens to the characters, read on.  Expect to find sympathetic characters with entertaining problems, beautiful and mysterious vistas for adventure, and dangers both personal and epic.

I only have the first five chapters here.  If you're interested in reading more, please email me at RangerWickett@hotmail.com.


*Episodes and Sections*
Episode One - Section I
Episode One - Section II
Episode One - Section III

Episode Two - Section I
Episode Two - Section II
Episode Two - Section III

Episode Three - Section I
Episode Three - Section II
Episode Three - Section III
Episode Three - Section IV

Episode Four - Section I
Episode Four - Section II
Episode Four - Section III
Episode Four - Section IV
Episode Four - Section V

Episode Five - Section I
Episode Five - Section II
Episode Five - Section III
Episode Five - Section IV
Episode Five - Section V
Episode Five - Section VI
Episode Five - Section VII


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## RangerWickett (May 30, 2004)

*The Mother of Dreams

Episode One: The Song of the Deep, Section I*


“I told you: practically no monsters.”  Allar planted the crossguard of his scimitar in the nearest ghoul’s eye, then spun his blade, slashing the creature’s head in two.  “And these certainly don’t qualify.”

Allar ducked and slashed out a ghoulish knee as beside him, his armor-clad and bull-horned ally Babb rammed his long shield into two ghouls at once.  Babb dodged as another ghoul’s claw swept at his face, and then he retaliated, kicking the ghoul in the chest with his hoof.  To Allar he boomed, “They’re _walking dead_.  What do you think counts as a monster?”

On Allar’s left side, Lirensce stabbed a ghoul in the chest and replied, “Golems.  Chimera.  Very irate clowns.”

All down the hall, from long abandoned mine tunnels, secret treasure stashes, and shallowly-buried coffins, the horde of rotting undead pressed after the adventurers.  Outnumbered, they fled, with Allar, Babb, and Lirensce forming a defensive line of swords the width of the hall, and David, Lacy, and Crassus directing the group down the twisting tunnels of the old tomb.

Panting desperately, the three-foot tall David led their retreat, his glowing light talisman revealing the path as fast as his short Jispin legs could carry him.  The expedition’s leader, Crassus, shouted directions to the others, his gravely voice strained and nervous.  Lacy was mostly quiet except for the occasional incantation as she dropped magical barriers behind them to slow the pursuit of the undead.  The whole tomb was riddled with anti-magical wards, and the barriers never lasted long.

“I can’t keep this up much longer,” Lacy shouted.

“It’s alright,” David gasped from the front.  “We’re coming up to a door.  Sealed, with sigils in Ragesian.  It’s probably trapped.”

Angered panic in his voice, Crassus shouted to David, “We’re being overwhelmed.  There’s no time to look for traps.  Just blast the damned door.”

David shook his head.  “If we can get inside we’ll have cover.  I’m not destroying it.”

“I’ll be right there,” Allar called back.

A ghoul leapt at Allar and knocked him to the ground, but it was only a moment before Lacy slashed at its face to drive it back, and Babb clove it in two with his sword.  Lirensce grabbed Allar by his arm, and he was back up before the swarm of ghouls could take advantage of the opening.

 “So,” Babb said over the stinking snarls of the ghouls, “undead count as monsters.”

A ghoul dove in under Babb’s shield and bit him on the thigh through his plate armor.  Babb growled to emphasize his point.  Allar slashed it away with his scimitar, then ran to catch up with David, letting Lacy take his place in the line.

David pointed at the door, and Allar hurriedly slid up next to it to look for triggers, traps, or other dangers.  He could just barely feel the vibration of hostile wards on the door, but he needed time to see just where they were.  As he searched he shouted back to Babb, “Undead are a special case.  They’re cursed uneasy spirits, not mindless monsters.”

Twenty feet away at the defensive line, Babb shield-bashed the nearest ghoul, then hacked through it and the ghoul next to it.  “Until I hear one talk, they’re monsters.”

Allar kept searching the door, while behind him the sounds of combat dwindled to just the hisses of ghouls and the scrape of their claws on stones.

“They’ve stopped,” Lirensce said.  “They know we’re trapped.”

Allar glanced back, then chuckled weakly.  “Obviously too smart to be monsters.  Hey Lacy, it’d help if I knew what all these curses and damnations on the door said.”

David held up his fire talisman for Allar to see, and he grinned.  “This ought to hold them off.”

A moment later Lacy was beside him, and Allar felt and heard a distant explosion of fire, followed by shrieks of burning ghouls.  He watched Lacy translate the inscriptions, listening to Babb cursing the stench caused by David’s fireball.

Lacy whimpered and looked down to Allar.  “The door says, ‘Death to all magic.’”

Allar quickly stepped away from the door, and Crassus snarled angrily.  Lacy shrugged to them.

“Heads up!” Babb shouted.

Allar looked back to the mass of ghouls blocking their escape, and saw one ghoul shoving its way to the front of the horde.  Its body was tense with muscles rotting through emaciated flesh, and it wore a kingly brown burial robe with red suburst etchings.  To Allar’s dismay it leaned low and shouted to the ghouls at front.  _“Mbi aonxkbhi octahobnte nx npexae uem ohn npoceinaiot Leska.”_

Everyone held their breath.

_“Kto to nonyvaer mhe wnary,”_ the ghoul continued, shoving a lesser ghoul away down the tunnel.

Allar readied his sword and moved to support the others in what might be their last defense.  When he came up beside Babb, Babb whispered, “Alright, you win.”

The speaking ghoul reached into its robe and pulled forth a large bearskull, etched with designs. With both hands it lifted the skull to its face, placing it on like a mask.  The rest of the ghouls backed away, seemingly in fear.

Allar tensed to leap forward and attack, but Lirensce grabbed him and stopped him, whispering, “Crassus will counter whatever spell he casts.”

Glancing quickly behind him, Allar saw the aged wizard watching the ghoul intently, trying to understand its spell being cast in a forgotten tongue.  Then, in a flurry of hand gestures, Crassus pulled out a palmful of powder and swirled it in the air, shouting a counter invocation as the ghoul raised a clenched fist.  The air thrummed with magic around them, and a wall of flame erupted from the floor between the adventurers and the ghouls.

They backed away from the fires, and Babb shouted back, “Nice one, Crassus.  Now we’re just going to suffocate.”

“That wasn’t my spell, fool,” Crassus snarled.  “This door absorbed my counterspell.”

“Oh, I get it.”  Babb smiled.  He laughed, impressed.  “The ghouls don’t need air.  Nice trap.”

David kicked the Geidon lightly in his shin.  “You’re not supposed to be happy that a trap is going to kill us.”

“The rest of the ones in this place weren’t that good.  Too many previous tomb robbers.”  Babb shrugged, then turned and shouted at the ghouls, “We really appreciate your trap!”

Lacy smiled, “You’re enjoying this too much.”

The group clustered near the door, as far away from the searing flames as possible.  The ghoul beneath the bear-skull mask shoved his hands forward, and the wall of flames advanced after them slowly.

Allar cringed.  “Any ideas?”

Babb pointed at the door.  “This way leads to only maybe death.”

Lirensce sheathed his sword and nodded.  “I like those odds.”

Allar looked to Crassus.  “The door, then?”

Crassus hesitated, then saw the wall of fire barely ten feet away and nodded.  “Is it trapped?”

“Just the anti-magic,” Allar said, grabbing the handle of the door and twisting.  “We’re good.  I’m practically sure of it.”

The door swung open a crack, and frigid air burst outward.  The others surged past him, David first with his light talisman, flooding the room with radiance.  The floor was covered with simple sand, but the rest of the room gleamed in silver and gold, the walls and ceiling plated with intricately worked metal.  There were no other doors, but in the center of the room, thirty feet away, was a heavy gold coffin, surrounded by four unlit torches.

At the door, Allar waited for the rest of the group to go through.  Over the laughter of the ghouls and the crackling flames of the advancing wall, Allar thought he could hear singing coming from inside the room.  He almost stopped, but Lirensce grabbed him and pulled him inside just as the wall of fire reached the doorway.  When it entered the chamber, the torches flared to life, and the flaming barrier exploded outward.  

Allar and Lirensce were knocked off their feet.  Allar fell low into the sand, but Lirensce was hurled high through the air, directly toward the coffin.

“Oh, that’s definitely a trap,” Babb sighed.

The instant Lirensce touched the surface of the coffin, David’s light spell was extinguished.  Lirensce screamed, and for the moment they could see before everything went black, the man appeared to be engulfed in flame.  A piercing wail shuddered out from the coffin, and the entire room was plunged into darkness.

Allar only had time to shout, “David!” when the floor beneath him gave way.  He was not sinking into the sand, but instead falling through air, as if the floor beneath the sand had vanished.  Reaching out reflexively, he felt his sword strike stone and he grabbed for purchase, halting his fall for a moment.  But he couldn’t hold, and he bounced against the wall, not knowing how far or to where.  The others also cried out as they fell, and Lirensce’s agonized shrieks echoed over them all.

Finally, painfully, Allar’s fall stopped, and he repressed a scream as he felt something pierce his left arm.  The wall beside him began to make a grinding sound, stone on stone, and overhead he heard the heavy sound of the room’s door thundering shut.

“Light!” he groaned out, trying to reach for his own torches but stuck by whatever had pierced his arm.  He flailed with his scimitar, and felt it clang off of metal to one side, stone to another.  “Light!”

“My magic isn’t working,” David called back, seeming just a few feet away.  “God help us.”

“I’ve got a torch,” shouted Lacy’s voice, followed by the sounds of her trying to create a spark.  The grinding from the wall was louder, and accompanied by the scraping of blades.

A moment later, Babb groaned from the same direction.  “Lacy, get off a’ me.”

Allar said, “Babb, you alive?”

“Unh.”

“What about-?”

The scraping of blades was close, now, and as a flicker of torchlight pushed away the darkness, Allar saw a whirling mechanism of chains and scythes inches from his face.  He cried out and pushed away to the nearest wall, tearing his left arm free from the spike he had landed on, which he only now could see.  From across the room, Babb cursed loudly and shoved himself to his feet.  He had landed with his shield between him and the rows of spikes, and Lacy atop him.  Now, the mechanism of whirling blades was a few feet away from him, extending like a giant slashing arm from an opening in the stone wall.  There were several bladed arms spaced across the room, pressing out slowly, slashing so that anything that had fallen between the spikes would be cut to pieces.

Allar sprinted to where David had fallen to the floor, between the spikes.  He grabbed the Jispin mage and pulled him out of the way just as one of the arms scraped through where he would have been.

“We’re trapped,” Lacy shouted, holding up her torch as she and Babb backed away to the far wall.  The door out of the room was beyond the range of the torchlight, and the safe space in the room was quickly vanishing.  David and Allar were only a dozen feet away from Lacy and Babb, but one of the bladed arms separated them.

“This trap is not fun!” Babb growled.

David pointed to the wall, where the bladed shafts extended from.  He shouted, “If we can stop one of these from spinning, it might break the mechanism!”

Babb nodded and braced his shield against his shoulder, then heaved all his weight into the nearest shaft, trying to knock it askew.  The room filled with the keening screech of metal rending metal, and Babb fell away in a spray of blood as the blades chewed through his armor and shoulder.  Near the room’s wall, however, something snapped, and the scything arm fell free, scraping across the ground wildly and getting caught in the other blade arms.

All across the room, the metal arms began to tear free and crash into each other.  Beneath them, the stones of the ground cracked, shafts of metal piercing upward as whatever mechanism powered the trap tore itself apart.  The ground gave way under Allar, and he leapt for safety, but could not reach solid ground.  Lacy dropped her torch and dove to grab him, and for a brief moment, Allar hung in the air.  But then the floor beneath her shattered as well, and they fell into darkness.


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## RangerWickett (Jun 2, 2004)

*Episode One: The Song of the Deep, Section II*

_“Iei so m menus sa.  I ei sa emenus sa. Iei so mm meneus sa.  Ii iei sa emeh nu uus sa.”_

It was quiet now, and indeed, Allar could hear singing, far, far overhead.  It sounded like something his parents might have sung to him as he dreamed.  It was a man’s voice, low, full of lament, and though he couldn’t understand its words, Allar knew it told a tale of a long journey.  The music echoed down from above, and he felt something tug at his soul.  The song was beautiful, but for some reason he was afraid of it.  Lest it overwhelm him, he forced himself to ignore it, focus on where he had fallen.

The place, wherever it was, was completely dark, but not claustrophobic.  Babb’s breathing was wet and rasping, and David was actually snoring.  Allar lay on his back, on stone.  There was a heavy, soft weight on his chest.  Lacy’s body, he realized.  He remembered twisting in midair so that he would cushion the woman’s fall.  She was breathing, so he could forgive her for the intense piercing pain from his broken ribs.  He tried to focus on the warmth of Lacy’s body, not feeling strong enough yet to move.

Occasionally there would be the soft sound of dust or bits of stone raining down lightly, but mostly, the world was still.  Quiet, except for the song above.

“Al, stop singing.”  Babb’s voice was slurred.

“Babb?”  When Allar spoke, he tasted blood in his mouth.  “I’m-.  I’m not singing.”

“Good.  You alive?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” Babb groaned.  “I was looking forward to proving my sister wrong about the whole afterlife thing.  How far did we fall?”

Lacy began to shift.  She placed a hand on Allar’s chest and started to push herself up, but Allar yelped in pain, and Lacy fell over in surprise, landing on top of him again.  He coughed, and Lacy nervously moved off him.

“Who did I land on?” she asked.  “I’m sorry.”

Allar chuckled.  “Don’t worry, it’s just me.  Be careful.  I don’t know if there’s anything down here.  And I don’t trust that singing.”

“What singing?” Lacy asked.

The singing had stopped.  Now they could hear, softly breaking the silence overhead, something moving.  Metal scraping metal, then the slight sounds of footsteps, creaking stones, debris being disturbed.

Allar tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest forced him back down.  Gasping, he said, “Could that be Crassus?  Or Lirensce?”

“Or ghouls,” Lacy said.  “If it were Crassus or Lirensce, they’d be calling for us.  I don’t think either of them made it out.  Oh!  What about David?”

“He’s here,” Allar groaned.  “Not too far away.  Can we get some light?”

Babb, still making no sounds of movement, said, “Lacy, can you help Al out?  His groans of pain are getting annoying.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’m in pain too, but I’m not complaining.  Something’s got me pinned.  Don’t worry, I can still feel all my fingers and hooves.”

A few moments later, Lacy had a torch lit.  Everyone squinted at the sudden light, but they quickly looked around to get their bearings.  They lay at the bottom of a sloping tunnel, fifteen feet wide.  The cave was mostly natural, with rough stairs tracing a path up the tunnel at a sharp angle.  Debris from the destroyed trap in the tomb room lay strewn about them, and Babb was caught at the edge of the largest pile, rocks covering his back, legs, and one of his arms.  Metal shafts, blades, and chains from the trap’s mechanism had lodged in the walls of the tunnel, forming a rough fence that had deflected most of the falling stones.

“Great,” Allar said.  “If we try to climb out, we’ll probably bring the whole room down on us.”

“Where are we?” Lacy asked, standing up nervously, looking around.

“Worry about that later,” Allar said.  “Something up there’s moving, and we might have to kill it if it comes down here.  Hand me the torch and check on David.”

David lay on his side a few feet from Babb, any injuries hidden under his brown robes.  Lacy knelt beside his short body and began checking for wounds.  She made sure not to touch his bare skin, but after a moment she sighed in relief.

“He’s not bleeding, just bruised.  I could try to heal him, but it might just end up hurting him instead.”

Allar nodded.  Lacy was human, while David was Jispin, a naturally magical race.  They both used magic in their own ways, but if Lacy’s human magic interacted with David’s innate aura, it could harm him if she was not careful.  Babb, a Geidon – a hybrid race that resembled bull-headed men – could benefit from either type of magic.  Allar, half-human, half-Elvish, found himself not suited for either.

Favoring the puncture wound on his arm, Allar said, “Get Babb first, then.”

“What about you?” Lacy said. “I’ve never had to heal a half-Elf before.”

Allar shook his head, smiling weakly.  “I get the worst of both worlds.  Nobody’s magic likes me.  The one other half-Elf I met, even she had a hard time getting her spells to work on me.  Usually when I get hurt I just have to tough it out, but if you’re good enough and you want to try. . . .”

“I’m good enough,” Lacy smiled back.  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned low so she could touch Babb.  “I’ve had a lot of experience with my adoptive brother here.”

Lacy whispered a short incantation, then placed a hand on Babb’s forehead, between his horns.  A soft green light fell over them for a moment, then faded.  Shaking his head, Babb crawled free of the rubble, then stood up and stretched.

“Not the most entertaining tomb I’ve robbed,” he said, “but certainly the one that’s come closest to killing me.”

Allar said, “Don’t speak too soon.  The only way out of here is either up through that mess and back to the ghouls, or, if we’re lucky, one of those crags in the wall leads to another tunnel.  I think this must be some sort of foundation of the tomb, something left over from when they first built it who knows how long ago.”

“Twenty-eight hundred years,” Lacy said.  “From what I read off the inscriptions in this place, it’s the tomb for some fiendishly evil sorceress, from the Ragesian Empire.  I can understand why they’d want such expensive anti-magic wards.”

“Yeah, Allar,” Babb joked.  “Weren’t you paying attention?”

From overhead, back in the tomb, an unfamiliar voice sang down to them.  “You freed me from death / and returned my infinity. / Live you four on rot or breath / and be you now my enemy?”

The three of them exchanged nervous glances.

“Was he speaking Geidon?” Babb whispered.

“I heard Lyceian,” Lacy replied.  “Must be a spell.  Who is he?”

Allar shrugged.  “He doesn’t sound like a fiendishly evil sorceress.”

He forced himself to his knees, then shouted back to the voice, “We are explorers, not enemies.  Who are you?  Is anyone alive up there?”

“Alive foes you are weak / for death sunless lives under. / Revenge now I seek / to cut the world asunder.”  This was followed by the sound of rubble shifting, and a soft and quick clicking sound.  “I come down now to kill you four, / as I killed these two before. / Their life will fuel my dying task, / to kill the whore who wore a mask.”

“He’s probably evil,” Babb said.  “But not a monster.”

Allar frowned at Babb, then waved Lacy over.  “Help me, quick.”

Lacy moved over, gritted her teeth, and placed her hand on Allar’s chest, chanting an incantation.  A sharp jolt of pain flashed in Allar’s heart as Lacy’s human magic clashed with his Elvish blood, but then the pain faded, and he could breathe more easily.

“Maybe it’s just me,” Babb said.  “But I don’t feel like fighting anything right now.  It was probably him singing in that coffin, and so whoever he is, he’s been around for however long Lacy said it was.”

The voice overhead was singing again, indecipherable and mournful.  _“Iei so m menus sa.  I ei sa emenus sa.”_

Allar scanned the walls, spotting a crack that might wide enough for them to squeeze through.  “Babb, pick up David.  My gut tells me this is one of those ancient ineffable evils that we probably weren’t supposed to disturb.”

Lacy said, “But he killed Crassus and Lirensce.”

Babb put his hand on Lacy’s shoulder and shook his head, his dark eyes sad.  “They wouldn’t want us to get killed too.  Well, maybe Crassus would.  But we gotta go.”

Babb bent down and picked up David easily, cradling the Jispin man in one arm.  In the scant torchlight, Allar waved for them to follow as he climbed through a crack in the wall near the floor.  The far side opened up into a long, craggy tunnel, roughly six feet around, winding off into the distance in two directions.  From behind him, Allar could hear the song moaning high and low.  

_“Iei so m menus sa.  I ei sa emeh nu us sa.”_

None of them spoke as they filed into the new tunnel.  The left passage sloped more uphill, so Allar picked that direction, and they moved.  Crackling torchlight cut a small field of light from the barren cavern’s darkness, and they fled the tomb and its mysterious occupant.  They talked little, glancing often behind to see if they were being followed, but the song faded into the distance, and they pressed into the deep.  After a long walk, over stones that may once have been man-made, but that had since been warped to resemble a natural tunnel, the tunnel stopped heading uphill, and began sloping deeper.  Allar stopped, grumbling.

“We can’t just keep running.  Who knows if this tunnel even goes anywhere.”

Lacy, too tall to stand upright, sat down and sighed.  “Now you’re saying we should turn back?”

“Yes.”  Allar nodded.  “Maybe.  I just don’t . . . trust caves.”

Babb looked behind them, then set David down, trying to find a space clear of jagged edges.  “Lacy, can you give the gnome a look?”

Lacy sighed again.  “Alright, but I don’t want to risk healing him.  I barely got it to work for Allar, and he doesn’t use magic.”

She crawled across the floor and sat next to David, unslinging her shoulder pack and searching for supplies.  Meanwhile, Babb walked over to Allar and lightly pushed him on his chest.

“What’s your problem, Babb?”

Babb shoved him again, lightly, then reached out and grabbed Allar’s arm as the man reached for his sword.  “You’re panicking,” Babb said.  “You know if we head back, even if that singing thing isn’t dangerous, the dozens of ghouls are.”

“But we don’t know what’s down here,” Allar said.  “These tunnels might go nowhere, and we don’t have enough torches to risk getting lost.”

Babb shook his heavy head.  “You know that’s wrong.  David can light us up, and he should be coming around soon.  The man’s a reliable little snot.  We’ve got enough food for two days, and I’d rather go hungry than let the ghouls nibble on me.”

Allar pulled away and looked down the tunnel.  It was impossible to see more than a few feet, beyond which it was black, unknown.  If he had his mother’s Elvish eyes, he’d be able to at least make out some of the shapes in the darkness.  He scowled, remembering his mother and why he hated being here.

“It’s too dangerous to keep going.  We don’t know what could be down here.”

“What’s down here?”  Babb laughed, and his deep voice echoed away in two directions.  “We just had the most disastrous little adventure I’ve ever heard about, and you’re worried that something might be living down here?  I hope so.  We’ll need food.”

Lacy looked up from her treatment of David.  “If that tomb was Ragesian, I recall that they were rumored to have used tunnels for moving supplies.  I think some of the Tundanesti Elves managed to smuggle themselves out of Kequalak using old tunnels like these.”

“I know,” Allar said.  “This isn’t the first time I’ve been down in these sorts of passages.”

“So,” Babb asked, “you didn’t die then, did you?  What are you afraid of?”

Allar glared back at the Geidon.  “I’m not afraid.  But it might be days before we find another place this tunnel could reach the surface, if ever.”

“Al, we’re trapped down here.  Going back is not an option.  You need to think of how we’re going to survive to see sunlight again.  Look, you said you’ve been in tunnels like this before.  Is there any chance we might find some running water, or bats or something?”

Allar swallowed dryly, worried they might not trust him if they later found out he was hiding something.  But most people didn’t even believe him when he talked about dark Elves, and this shallow they were unlikely to run into any.  He didn’t speak for a moment, wondering what to say.

Babb lightly shook him.  “Al, if you’re going to panic here and try to go back, let us know, alright?  If you go back, you’ll die anyway, so at least give us the chance to kill you so we’ll have more to eat.”

Smiling slightly, Allar shook his head to relieve his nervousness.  “No, we’ll be fine.  We’ve probably got a long walk ahead of us, though.”

“Good,” Babb laughed.  “We can share old adventure stories.”

Allar chuckled.  “Maybe when we get out of this alive.  In a place like this, we should try to stay as quiet as possible.”

From nearby, Lacy winked to Allar and said, “Yes.  We need to make sure the dark Elves don’t find us.”

Allar stared at her.  “You . . . you know about dark Elves?”

She shrugged.  “I read a lot about monsters and myths.”  At Babb’s confused expression, Lacy added, “They’re supposedly called the Taranesti.  Demon Elves that live underground, fleeing from the sun.  I imagine they’d look like Kohalesti, only, you know, more demon-y.  They’re basically Elvish bogeymen.  You don’t have to worry about them, Babb.”

Allar let out the breath he was holding.  “We fought ghouls less than an hour ago.  I wouldn’t write off Taranesti.”

Lacy said, “But dark Elves are a myth.  Ghouls are just mindless monsters.”

Under Lacy’s ministration, David began to stir.  Allar walked over to him.

“Hey there, David.  Everything in one piece?”

David rubbed his eyes, favoring his right hand.  He looked up at Allar and tapped the side of his head, trying to shake off the dull pain of recent unconsciousness.  “You didn’t get us killed.  That’s a pleasant surprise.”

Allar grinned.  “Glad to hear you’re feeling better.”

“How long was I out?”

“Just an hour or so.  We’re running low on torches.  Can you magic up some light for us?”

“Where are we?”

Babb tapped a short beat on his armor to get their attention.  “Something in that coffin came alive and started spouting off poetry at us, so we ran away.”

“Sounds reasonable,” David said.

Allar said, “Remember those tunnels under the Tunda Mountains I spent some time patrolling?  I think this place is something like that.  I can’t be sure, but I think we’re heading west.”

David frowned.  “I thought you didn’t like the underground.  Didn’t you-?”

Allar held up a hand to stop him.  “It’s this or get killed by ghouls.  The air here’s fresh enough, so there should be something that leads up to the surface not far away.”

“It’s just the four of us?”

They all nodded quietly.  

Allar sighed.  “Whatever it was that came out of that coffin in the tomb, it said it had killed Lirensce and Crassus.”

David stood up and looked around the narrow cave, which was twice as high as his head.  He pulled out one of his talismans, a small glass vial filled with brown spices.  He clenched it, then winced and glared at Allar.

“Warn me next time one of you touches me.  I could’ve been casting something dangerous.”

Babb laughed.  “You should all just wear gloves.”

“Yeah,” David said.  “Harlan did a great job picking out his adventuring team.  Lacy can heal everyone except me and Allar.  I think I broke one of my fingers.”

“But you use more magic than Lacy,” Babb said.  “Why can’t you just heal yourself?”

David was silent, but Allar laughed and said, “His mother was excellent at healing magic, so David never thought he’d need to learn it himself.”

“Momma’s boy,” Babb said.

“I’ll ask my mother the next time I see her,” David sighed.  “But you’re lucky I’m a generous person who’s very forgiving.”

“The torch is dying,” Lacy pointed out.

David grumbled and nodded, then concentrated again on his talisman.  A dim red light filled the tunnel around them, weaker than David’s usual light spell.  David held his talisman high and glanced around.

“The walls here are riddled with that same white stone we saw in the tomb.  Ugh.  Is the rest of the tunnel like this?”

“Yeah,” Babb said.  “Why, what’s wrong?”

“It’s antimagical.  Who would make some place like this?”

Lacy shrugged.  “It did say ‘death to all magic,’ and the tomb was supposed to hold an evil sorceress, but thankfully she doesn’t seem to be undead.  Will we have light?”

David nodded unhappily.  “Yeah, we’ll have light.  Now we just need to find a way out.”

Babb stood up, taking care not to bump his head on the low ceiling.  “Well, momma’s boy, you can walk on your own now, so I don’t have to carry you.  Al, want to lead the way?”

Allar snorted.  The tunnel had only two paths, and they had found no other turns or passages.  Laughing, he started walking.  “Sure.  I’ll try not to get us lost.”


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## RangerWickett (Jun 14, 2004)

*Episode One: The Song of the Deep, Section III*

Perhaps days passed. The path stretched on endlessly, punctuated every few hours by a small cubby cut into the wall, stocked with ages-old jars, once intended for travelers, now rotted away. The only passing of time they knew were conversation, hunger, and exhaustion. After thrice sleeping and four meals, after a hundred miles or more of featureless, cramped tunnels, of nervous conversations and desperate attempts to keep their spirits up, they found something new.

“It’s a snail,” Allar said, crouching beside the tiny creature, smaller than the tip of his finger. It was crushed, and he never would have noticed it if he hadn’t stepped on it.

David held his light close, and a thin, slowly drying trail of slime reflected the red glow. Careful to avoid ruining the trail, Allar crawled along the ground for thirty feet, looking for where the snail could have come from, until he found a small crack in the ground. The rock was slick with mold.

“There’s water nearby here, I think.” Allar stood up, about to look at the ceiling. But the rocks beneath his feet crumbled, and he jumped aside as a four-foot wide section of the floor caved in. Dust filled the air, and then came the sound of rock splashing into water. The noise of the small cave in echoed for several seconds, and when the dust cleared, they all peered into the new opening. David’s light spell flickered briefly into a full white light.

“It’s a natural cave,” David said. “None of the white stones down there.”

“At least we found a landmark,” Babb said. “No reason not to explore it.”

With the practiced caution of professional tomb robbers, Allar, Lacy, Babb, and David explored the cave. It was moist, covered in fungus that spread a fog of spore dust over the floor. Their footsteps crunched occasionally on snails, or splashed in shallow puddles. The cave sloped roughly down and away, and grew only more humid the deeper they probed. Finally, a hundred feet in, they found the river. 

At first just a stream of water, it flowed uphill from a black, twenty-foot wide tunnel. Water dripped upward to the ceiling, and as they watched, a pool of water began to form in a depression on the ground just past the crest of the slope of the tunnel, spreading as water flowed upward from the depths. The air grew cold, impossibly wet, like trying to breathe underwater. A rushing sound like waves crashed through the room. Shadows darkened. David’s light faded. The room was nothing but blackness and weight, oppressive and intangible.

Suddenly, brilliant light flooded the room, flaring out from David’s talisman. Lacy shuddered and nearly slumped to the ground, but Babb caught her. David likewise staggered, and only Allar was free to see behind them. A hundred feet away, the long, endless tunnel where they had been just moments before was crackling with lurid red light, pulsing like a guttering candle. The wisps of low fog were sucked away, and around the rift in the ceiling, patches of mold and fungus dissolved to ash.

Lacy whimpered against Babb’s chest, her voice hidden by the sound of the cavern creaking around them. And then, after just a few breaths, the tunnel was silent again, David’s light again a relaxed gleam. There were no echoes, just the faint trickling as the stream that had flowed uphill seeped away, back into the depths.

Babb was comforting Lacy, who looked far more distressed than Allar would have expected. Lacy whispered something to the Geidon, and Babb asked in confusion, “‘Mother’?”

Allar knelt beside David, who was composing himself. Urgently, he asked, “What was that?”

It was Lacy who replied. “The Scourge. It felt like something was drinking from my heart.”

David stared at Lacy, nodding nervously. “Me too. What-?”

“It’s a legend,” Lacy said. “When the Ragesian Empire fell, a witch lay a curse that would drink the life from all magic-users.”

David glared at her in disbelief. “And you didn’t think of mentioning this before?”

“Most of these things don’t end up being true. I also know a legend that says there’s an invisible gnome that has an archdevil hidden in a hole in his chest. Should I have mentioned that one too?”

“Actually, I know that one.” David shrugged. “Alright, you have a point. Why aren’t we dead, though?”

“Less talk, more move,” Babb said, pointing down the tunnel. “That’s a different direction than the death thing. I say we go that way.”

Allar shook his head. “We’re not going any deeper.”

“It’s been working for us so far,” Babb said. “If we hadn’t come in here, we’d be dead.”

Allar crossed his arms. “How can you be sure?”

Lacy cleared her throat, then said, “A- . . . according to legend, they – and by they I mean I can’t remember if anyone even knows their names – managed to seal the power of the Scourge, so it couldn’t feed.”

“The stones,” David exclaimed. “All those white stones that absorb magic. They’re what’s trapping the Scourge. We were the first magic to come down here in a thousand years.”

“Twenty-eight hundred years,” Babb corrected.

“Right,” Lacy said.

Babb looked to Allar. “It sounds like that tunnel keeps in the whole ‘evil’ thing, which makes us safe here, and not safe in there.”

“Why didn’t it kill us before?” Allar asked. “We were in there for at least a few days.”

Everyone looked to Lacy. The tall woman squinted, thinking. “I have no idea. Just lucky, I guess.”

“Lacy,” Babb said, “you’re never lucky. The last two men who liked you ended up stealing our jobs. Can you think of something a little more comforting?”

Lacy shrugged again, and then everyone turned to look down the natural cave tunnel, which sloped off sharply into the depths. Lacy asked, “Um, did anyone else get the feeling that the water was alive?”

They pondered the path, and then, by silent, mutual agreement, began to climb downward, into the Great Below. When they were finally out of sight of the entrance, Babb gave Allar a friendly poke. “I’m watching you, just so you know.”

Allar saw Babb shift his great horned head toward Lacy. “Third time’s a charm.”

Sighing, Allar shook his head and moved to the front of the group, trying to look for signs of dark Elves or other dangers. But occasionally he glanced back at Lacy, smiling at the thought.

*	*	*​
These tunnels were like nothing Allar had traveled before – great massive caverns, chambers carved by rivers, narrow corridors rent apart by the slow grinding of earth. High, jagged ceilings disappeared out of range of David’s magical light, and the ground was as uneven as any wild mountain.

There was life here, more than any of them would have imagined. Great carpets of gray and white fungus stretched across the ground and walls in some places. Creepers of tendril-like mold dangled from ceiling to floor like a dense subterranean forest in others. Small insects and snail-like creatures eked out survival around intermittent puddles and patches of moist, powdery earth. Flies buzzed through the air, some large enough to prey on others like bats. It was as if everything that had ever died and sunk into the ground had been reborn, foreign and pale, but alive, in this great, hidden darkness.

At first, every step was revulsion. Unfamiliar textures assaulted them. In many places, the floor was not rock, but a mass of flaccid fungus, thriving on ageless piles of decay and detritus. A handful of snakes they spotted slithered past, pure black against the paler mold, seemingly undisturbed by maggots that grew from sockets where land snakes would have had eyes. The ceiling of one mile-long stretch of smooth, narrow tunnels was covered in bustling, twitching spider webs. The air was always still, always just too chill to be comfortable.

By the time they finally stopped to rest, however, they were tired enough for fatigue to let them ignore the odd spore-mist that wheezed from the floor whenever they had to walk across the fungal ‘grass.’ They breathed comfortably through cloth over their mouths, and took watch as if their surroundings were no stranger than a swamp or jungle. Allar took great pleasure in the fact that the smell of their food seemed to drive away the creatures native here, while Lacy spent her free moments writing on parchment, claiming she remembered once reading a prayer that could purify food, and that she hoped she could recreate the necessary incantation. They slept in a grove of waist-high capped mushrooms, next to what appeared to be a pond of oil.

Away from the hungering tunnels of the ‘Scourge,’ as they took to calling it, conversation came more freely, and Allar was able to laugh at his own nervousness. The Great Below was unsettling, but certainly, they had seen nothing threatening. But when he slept, his dreams were heavy and vague, but filled with whispers.

*	*	*​
“Up ahead,” Allar said. “A tunnel.”

The group was picking its way through ankle-deep sludge along the bank of the river. They had followed it for most of their second day in the wild caves, but it led downward, and they had seen no passages branching in other directions. The river, at least, provided strange fish the size of a man’s palm, which they had cooked and eaten for lunch. So far, none of them were feeling sick.

Allar moved ahead to check the new tunnel, going as far as he dared from David’s light spell. The river, really just a stream eight feet across, swept away and downhill to the right, while this new tunnel climbed away to the left, sloping uphill ever so slightly. The muddy sludge that made up the river’s banks stopped just a few feet into the tunnel, and though this new passage was smaller than most of the caves they had explored so far, it felt less foreign. No strange shelled creatures scurried across the walls or ceiling, and the ground looked like sturdy stone. More barren, perhaps, but easier to travel.

Allar was about to turn back to the others when he spotted a dark patch on the ground. Kneeling low, he pulled out a small hand lantern and lit it, feeling his throat tighten nervously. As the flame caught, and light flickered into this tunnel for the first time ever, Allar lay eyes upon a footprint, etched in dried mud. Holding his lantern higher, he could see two more footprints, bare feet, five toes each. Then, as if to hide its path, whatever had left the trail had scraped its feet against the stone, smearing the drudge of the river on a protruding rock.

The footprints were short, as graceful as might be possible with mud. But they had to be recent, within a few days, maybe even a few hours. Allar held no doubts that somewhere down in these caves, dangerously near, was a dark Elf. He could not move, and it was more than a minute later when the others finally followed and found him, leaning against the wall, drawing shuddering breaths.

“What does it mean?” Babb asked. “No more jokes from me. If you guys want to tell me about mythical demon Elves from below, I’m more than ready to listen.”

Allar tried to speak, not wanting to appear weak. David looked up at him and whispered, “You can face this. Come on, Allar.”

Lacy was kneeling next to the three brief footprints, and Babb leaned over to snort at her impatiently. She waved a hand at him dismissively, then chanted briefly. She sighed and stood up.

“It’s fairly recent, less than a day, but all I could see was legs running from the river, with dark grey skin. Actually more than I expected, since, well, there wasn’t any actual light here when that happened.”

“Running?” Allar asked. He noticed he was gripping the hilt of his scimitar, and he tried to let go as discreetly as possible. “Why would a dark Elf be running?”

“I didn’t see anything chasing it. Nothing has come by here since then.”

Allar knelt next to the muddy footprint again. “I don’t like this.”

They were quiet for a moment, and then Babb snorted in amusement. “Allar, you think about this stuff way too much. He was probably just in a rush to get that crap out there off his feet. I mean, why do you get so worried every time somebody says ‘dark Elf’?”

Allar took a slow breath, and said, “My parents were killed by dark Elves.”

Lacy and David looked away uncomfortably. Babb managed to look solemn for just a moment, however, and then he laughed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to hold back his chuckles. “This wasn’t recent or something, was it? Because,” he laughed again, “no offense, but isn’t that a little . . . cliché?”

David glared angrily at Babb, but Lacy sheepishly grinned. Allar was too shocked by what Babb had said to reply.

“I mean,” Babb continued, smiling at Allar’s dismay, “haven’t most professional adventurers lost their parents? Lirensce did. Lacy and I did. Heck, Crassus didn’t even leave his home town until his father died of syphillis.”

Lacy nodded weakly, trying to look apologetic. “Babb is just being a little insensitive. He lost his parents twice, actually. His original ones, and then my mother after she adopted him. Not, well, not dark Elves, though.”

Allar scoffed, sputtered, and then looked away. For a moment he wanted to explain everything, but then he heard Babb chuckle. Allar growled quietly.

“If you don’t care, fine,” Allar snapped. “But someone else is down here, so we need to keep quiet.”

Babb asked, “Do you have a problem with Kohalesti Elves?  They’re dark-skinned.  It’s brown, not grey.  And they make nice sculptures.  Have you ever seen the bridges in Seaquen?  Kohalesti made those.  Do the bridges scare you?”

“I’m not frightened,” Allar sneered.  “Right now, our goal is to find this dark Elf and have him tell us how to get to the surface. We’ll beat it out of him if necessary. Now, let’s go.”

Not waiting for them to reply, Allar started walking down the tunnel. A few moments later, he heard them follow, thankfully, since otherwise he would not have been able to see where he was headed. The tunnel sloped gently upward, rough but open.

At the back of the group, Allar could hear Babb grumbling. “What’s the big deal?” the Geidon asked. “At least his parents were killed by something interesting. Mine died in an avalanche. Do you know how common avalanches are in the mountains? Pretty damned common.”

“He was very young,” David said defensively. “I was with the Jispin caravan that found him. He was buried in snow under his mother’s body.”

Allar winced, more out of anger than from any clear memory. He had been too young to recall the actual attack.

There was silence for a moment, and then Lacy said, “Then we should trust him. If the Taranesti are dangerous, Allar knows more about them than any of us.”

“I’m not afraid of avalanches,” Babb said, his tone softly mocking.

“Honestly, Babb.” Lacy heaved a sigh and hurried to catch up to Allar. 

When she was next to him, she said quietly, “There’s more to this than just something that happened twenty years ago, I’m guessing. Don’t tell me if you don’t feel comfortable. Just tell us if there’s anything we need to know, alright?”

Allar forced out a chuckle. “Do you know any myths about dark Elves?”

“They’re supposed to be immortal,” she said, smiling.

Allar sighed and looked away from her. “Well, that one’s not true. Come on, let’s move. If the Taranesti was running from something, it might be smart for us to run too.”

Babb tried to talk for a few more minutes, but eventually they trailed off into silence.

*	*	*​
They traveled for a few hours, occasionally slowing when intermittent pockets of heavy, cold air wafted over them. There was no wind, but it felt as though something dead was breathing upon their necks. The feeling always faded quickly, but David was in the process of suggesting they turn back when the sounds of dripping water echoed from the tunnels ahead. Everyone grew quiet in nervousness, and Allar crept forward, scimitar in one hand, lantern in the other.

Twenty feet ahead, the tunnel opened up and sloped suddenly down five feet. Though the light from Allar’s lantern was feeble, the room beyond gleamed, stretching out a hundred feet or more before disappearing into blackness. Hundreds of stalactites and stalagmites rimmed the room, with thin clusters forming pillars that supported a ceiling forty feet high. Pools of water, unknowably deep, covered the floor so that there was more water than solid land. The stone everywhere glistened with moisture, and the flickering glow from Allar’s lantern reflected off dozens of black pools, and glinted on every dangling spire of rock.

It was only a slight drop from the top of the tunnel they had followed to the floor of the lake cavern, so Allar gestured behind him for the others to wait, and he slipped forward. He wanted to scout just a little further, to make sure there was a clear path to walk. He didn’t know how well any of them could swim, and Babb certainly would be in danger if he fell into one of the lakes wearing his heavy armor. But after a quick reconaissance, the only disturbing thing was that even just a few feet from shore, all of the lakes were deeper than the length of Allar’s sword. There was a comfortably wide stretch of dry rock that led to an opening into another chamber, so he slipped back to the others and waved them over.

“Walk carefully,” he said. “And David, dim your light a bit.”

“No dark Elves?” Babb teased.

“No nothing,” Allar replied. “Not even bugs or fish in the water. It’s practically empty.”

They moved through the lake cave carefully, Babb having to sheathe his sword and use the stalagmites as guides to keep his balance. Even with David’s light spell dimmed, the chamber seemed almost as bright as day, the flooded floor reflecting a nearly still glow across the room. At the far end of the chamber, there were two tunnels. One was half-submerged, the other dry. Allar was about to lead them into the dry path when he heard a splashing sound echo from the next room, like someone running through water.

The others grew tense, but Allar held up a hand, then gestured for David to kill his light spell. With just the faintest of lantern light to give away his location, Allar sprinted to the tunnel opening, staying as low as possible. When he reached the edge of the chamber, he pressed his back against the wall, and turned his head ever so slightly to peer around the corner.

Out of the near blackness of the room beyond, Allar saw the rocky ground slope into the water less than twenty feet away, and less than ten feet away, something man-sized moved away, across the stone toward the shore. Allar guessed more than actually saw that it was turning to look at him, so he took cover and held his breath.

The distant splashing continued, and the air began to feel heavy, wet, whispering without sound. The sensation was familiar, and eery, but it passed after a moment, and when Allar was certain he hadn’t been spotted, he waved his hand over the lamp twice quickly, then once slowly, a signal to David that there was one sentry.

It had only been a few seconds since he first heard the sounds from the cave beyond, but now suddenly there was more sound of movement, and with the strange echoes of this chamber, Allar couldn’t tell if they were approaching or not. He held his sword ready and again peeked into the next room.

The sentry was gone.

Cursing to himself, Allar began to back away, looking around in all directions as he ran back to the group. The noise from the next chamber was hectic now, and Allar was certain they had been spotted. He called out to Babb, Lacy, and David, “We’re about to get attacked! Run!”

At that instant, two things happened that incited Allar’s reflexes, and he responded so quickly to each that he did not have time to think. First, from the pool beside his friends, a creature burst forth, clawed arms reaching out to rake as the spray of water concealed it.

“Light, David, light!” Babb was shouting, and suddenly the chamber flared into blinding brilliance.

Allar had leapt at the creature, and in mid-swing, as his scimitar pressed its right arm away, he saw it in pure clearness. David’s light glowed through it, its massive body transparent like water, except at its eyes, where pools of murky black glared at them. Half-again as tall as any of them, its head was nothing but two eyes and a gaping maw of gleaming, watery teeth. Its arms, somehow ridged with a texture impossible in a liquid, slashed inch-long talons across Babb’s face and chest, and it started to embrace him, diving forward with its mouth to tear into his shoulder.

Babb was already roaring in defiance, and he fell back under the creature’s weight, but did not stop fighting. He thrashed his head sideways, goring a horn into the creature’s eye, just as Allar leapt upon its back and drew his sword across its throat. The creature spasmed, and a death wail emerged from the lakes around them. The creature itself made no noise, but the water burst upward like something had exploded beneath it, and a cry of agony shrieked and echoed. Then, in an instant, the spray fell back to the surface of the lake, and the creature, massive and imposing, disintegrated into nothing but water.

That was the first, and in the same brief instant that the creature attacked and fell, in the next room, a woman screamed. Her voice, panicked and desperate, pierced through the death cry of the monster, and had not even stopped before Allar leapt away from the dissolving body of the beast and ran to help her.

“Allar!” David shouted. “It’s too dangerous!”

In the back of his mind, he was aware that they were following him, that he was not plunging foolishly into a pitch black, flooded cavern, that they would help him fight whatever was endangering the woman whose cries for help filled the air. But even if they were not following him, he would have gone anyway.

As the others followed him, bringing light, the next chamber emerged from darkness. Lower than the last chamber, the ceiling here sometimes simply plunged below the water, and the only land was rough islets. There were more of the water creatures in the distance, a hundred feet away or more, their faint transparent bodies moving to surround a woman as she splashed through the water. He saw all this in the time it took him to leap from the shore into the water and begin to swim after her, but when he pulled up from the water to draw breath, she was out of his vision.

His splash had alerted the rest of the creatures, and from the cluster of perhaps a half-dozen that were a hundred feet away, two broke off and dove into the water toward him, vanishing without disturbing the surface. Allar followed the woman’s screams as best he could, but he had swum only twenty feet when something slashed him across his neck, dangerously close to ripping open his throat, and then he was pulled under.

He struggled wildly, unable to see what was grappling him, stabbing ineffectually through simple water as unseen arms dragged him below the surface. Then he felt a jerk at his legs, and for an instant was able to make out one of the creatures as Babb plunged into it from above, his heavy armored body pulling it away from Allar. Then Babb clove his sword across what may have been the beast’s belly, and the water pulsed around them, filling with blinding bubbles.

Babb sank away, vanishing below him, but Allar was able to get enough freedom to swing his sword into one of the arms holding him. It pulled away, ripping him with talons, but then it bit his ear, and Allar knew where to aim. Flailing with his free hand, Allar grabbed the creature’s semi-tangible head and plunged his sword into it. The tension holding onto him faded away, and another burst of sound pulsed through the water, sending him reeling.

He could not see Babb and needed air, so he pressed for the surface. Just as he cleared the water and took a desperate breath, the air at the far end of the tunnel exploded with fire, and he heard David holler in glee. Peering through drenched hair, Allar could see two of the creatures on shore collapse and burst into steam, slain by David’s fireball talisman.

“Lacy,” Allar called out, “Babb’s drowning.”

Allar finally reached shallow enough water that he could run again, and he started to sprint for the two remaining creatures. One dove into the water, heading in a direction that would reach David and Lacy, while the other, growling and gurgling, pulled the screaming woman off the ground and tossed her over its shoulder. They were just forty feet away, and in the dim glare of David’s light spell, Allar saw the woman slump, unconscious. He shouted angrily, illogically, for it to let her go, and then rushed after it.

The creature snarled and turned toward him, its black eyes glaring viciously. He was almost to it when the monster shrugged its broad, ridged shoulders and dropped the woman into the water beside it. She fell away with a splash and vanished, and the creature lunged for Allar, claws outstretched to drive him to the ground.

Allar dove to his right and rolled, and the beast fell where he had been a moment ago. He kicked up and landed on its back, swinging his scimitar and beheading it. It fell away into water beneath him, and he gasped for breath for a moment, looking around desperately to find the woman before she drowned.

In the distance, another fireball blossomed, and the air shrieked with the last monster’s death, but the flare of firelight filled the chamber, and Allar saw the woman’s body, shallow, but deep enough to drown. He dropped his sword and ran over to her, pulling her free. She wasn’t breathing, and without thinking, barely even able to see her in the darkness, he rolled her over so she’d exhale any water she’d breathed in.

The woman coughed, desperate, but Allar smiled, knowing he had saved her life. She gasped for breath, and Allar held her carefully, content for a moment. But then his eyes adjusted to the gloom, and he looked at her again, brushing aside a strand of white hair. The light of David’s spell approached, and Allar saw the woman’s emerald green eyes stare at him from a dark-skinned, Elvish face.


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## RangerWickett (Jun 15, 2004)

And that's the end of Chapter 1.  How do you like it so far?


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## RangerWickett (Jun 21, 2004)

*Episode Two: The Song of the Deep, Pt. II, Section I*

The snow was jagged, burning inside his nose, scraping his hands as he tried to claw his way free.  His mother hadn’t moved since she fell over him, and now he could not feel the warmth of her body through the numbness of the icy winter night.

Allar whimpered, and heard nothing but wind roaring.



The dark elf woman coughed, trying to breathe after nearly drowning.  She said something quietly, the sounds Elvish but the words foreign, and then she tensed.  Looking up at Allar with eyes that glinted emerald even in the near darkness, she opened her mouth as if to gasp, but then just let it hang open, shocked.  After a moment, relief flashed across her face, and she grinned.

_“Tundanesti?”_ she asked.

Allar did not move.  He breathed heavily, angrily, paralyzed with revulsion.  He shoved her off of him, then shuddered.

The woman pushed herself away slowly.  She glanced in the direction of the others, but Allar didn’t pull his eyes from her.  She was young, her white hair hanging, currently drenched, to her shoulders.  Slender and somewhat malnourished, she wore a loose violet vest of some type of leather, gray pants, dark leather boots that covered her knees, and similar long gloves that went past her elbows.  She had no weapons, nothing to threaten him, and yet Allar’s fears coiled in his chest.

_“Em seas Taranesti.”_  Hesitant, the woman pointed to her ears, then gestured toward Allar.  _“Al seast Tundanesti?  Si alfrin ka’nofras chealis.”_

She nervously looked to the others, and pointed at them.  She said something, but Allar heard another voice.



“Why are you stopping?” Telleas shouted at him.  He grabbed Allar and leaned close.  “They’re sealing the tunnels at sunset.  You’re not injured enough for me to let you die here.”

Allar looked down at blood that wasn’t his, dripping across his chain armor.  The caves were cold, lined with ice, and he fell against the wall, letting the chill burn his cheek.  He held the dagger before his face, then looked beyond it, to Telleas.  Everything beyond him was black.

From that blackness, he could hear them approaching, nearly silent, vengeful and terrifying.



Allar could hear his friends calling his name as they splashed through the flooded cavern toward him and the Taranesti girl.  The girl was crouching now, nervous, chattering at him in three different languages.  Allar heard something familiar, in Kelaquois, but she had already switched to a different language by the time he was able to decipher the words from her accent.

“Do you why look scared?” she had said.  Allar wasn’t sure whose Kelaquois was at fault for the odd expression, hers or his.

He realized that his right hand had been reaching to try to find his dropped scimitar, and he forced himself to stop moving.  He looked back at the woman.  She was smiling encouragingly.  In his mind, thoughts tumbled.  He had saved a dark Elf, he had once killed a dark Elf, he could not think she was with the same dark Elves, why had he saved her, what could he tell the others?



The Taranesti captive fell to the snow as the Tundanesti beat him with the flats of their swords.  David was glaring at him, condemning him for the satisfaction he felt.  Allar looked away.  

It was winter again, and hands pulled him up from the snow.  There was soot and char in the air, and dark mounds in the snow.  The man who held him cradled him, and Allar buried his face in the man’s chest, hearing the crunch of feet on snow and the crackle of flames on the wind.

He pulled the dagger out, yanking to free it from the rib cage.  He was far away now, dropping the blade.  He was burying his face against the stone, unable to look at any of the others.

He could not understand the Taranesti words himself, but a minute later, Yiromas handed the captive over to the guards, and turned to address them, a smug smile on his face.  Allar looked back, eager.  They had told him he was very brave to come with them.

He was only sixteen, and the man had stopped moving.  Allar looked up, past his dagger, into the blackness.



Babb’s laugh broke the frantic reel in his mind.

“Ha, I bet you’re pissed, Al’.  Is this a dark Elf?”

Babb was trudging through chest deep water, straining to keep his chin clear, but what amounted for a smile on his bull-like face was clear.  Lacy was beside him, holding David.  The three-foot tall Jispin man, ignoring his displeasure at having to be carried through the water, gasped when he saw Allar and the dark elf.  “My God, Allar.”

Allar nodded, then pushed himself off his back, standing uncomfortably, wet clothes and armor pressing upon him.  He was having trouble breathing, but he weakly pointed his right hand – holding his sword – in the direction of the girl.

“Watch her.  Just because the monsters were trying to kill her doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous too.”

The woman fell backward off her crouch when he pointed the sword at her, and she scrambled away slightly.  When she spoke, her tone was not frightened, but rather almost complimentary.  _“Malha muc alas.”_

“Allar,” Lacy whispered, “put the sword down.  We don’t want to scare her.”

“Do you know what she’s saying?” Babb asked.

The woman slowly stood, wringing the loose edges of her vest to keep from sopping on herself.  Looking around at the group of them, she nodded, and a somewhat forced smile spread on her face.  _“Er imsi?  Gee gooree ohs?”_

Babb and Lacy gasped, and Babb smiled.  “She just said ‘thanks’ in Kelaquois.  And was that Goblin?”

“That was ‘thank you,’ also,” said David, who had climbed out of Lacy’s arms and was now coming up beside Allar.  “Not that I know much Goblin.”

Lacy started speaking to the girl in Kelaquois, slowly enough that Allar could understand.  “We won’t hurt you.  Do you understand me?”

The girl nodded, then grinned and replied, still in Kelaquois.  “Thank you you helped me.  Um, the name . . . my it is . . . um, my name is Tri’ni?”

“I couldn’t follow that,” Babb muttered.  “Lemme try some different languages.”

While Babb, Lacy, and the dark elf girl rattled off phrases in Lyceian, Elstrician, Ragesian, Goblin, Taranesti, and Geidon, which resulted in only disappointed shakings of heads, David spoke to Allar.

“She looks innocent enough,” he whispered.

“Don’t talk to me, David.  For all I know, she could’ve been one of the ones who killed my family.”

“Her?  She looks sixteen.  Even though she’s an Elf, she’s probably not much older than you are.  Allar, she could-”

“David?” Lacy called out, “do you have anything that could help here?  I do, but I don’t want to try using magic on her if you can manage something that won’t hurt her.”

David shook his head, waving lightly to try to get her to give them privacy.  Still talking, Allar and David moved a short distance away.

“She could be a guide,” David said.

Allar kicked at the edge of the water, then looked into the glinting darkness. “Find out who she is, then maybe. Don’t trust how she looks.”

“Alright,” David sighed. “Please, Allar, just let this be behind you.”

Allar glared down at David, then walked back to the dark Elf girl. He wanted to be angry, but he was afraid to talk. Looking at the woman he had rescued, he felt hatred, and he had to turn away, disgusted with himself.

*	*	*​
Lacy sighed nervously, “This should work.”

She held a few strands of her hair in one hand, a few of the girl’s in her other.  Tying the ends together, combined they were long enough to form a slender necklace, white and gold.  The girl’s expression was curious and impatient.  Whispering a prayer, Lacy touched both strands.  The girl winced.

“Ow, was that supposed to happen?”  Her accent was still present, but she spoke in Lyceian.  She looked around at them, confused slightly.  “That’s me talking, isn’t it?”

“Nice one, sis,” Babb said, slapping Lacy’s shoulder with a smile.

“I don’t know this language,” the girl said, plainly.  “I think my head hurts.”

“Are you injured?” Lacy asked.

The girl shook her head, grinning with embarrassment.  “No.  I’m just thinking in a different language than what I’m saying.  I’m trying to talk in Goblin now, and it’s . . . no, it’s just not working.  Thank you.”

She chuckled, and Lacy and Babb laughed too.

“I don’t know why,” the dark Elf woman said, turning to look at Allar, “but I think I scared you somehow.  I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know you were a dark Elf,” Allar replied.  He clenched his teeth.

“Oh, um, yes.”  She paused for a moment, then said, “I haven’t heard ‘dark Elf’ in a while.  That’s what Dentalles used to call us.”

Allar frowned.  The name Dentalles was familiar somehow.

“My name is Tri’ni,” said Tri’ni.  “Tri’ni Gren’eys.  My father said ‘Gren’eys’ was the surface word for green eyes.  Wait, I just said it.  Oh.”

Babb looked down as he laughed, like he didn’t want to make fun of her.  The young woman wasn’t fazed, though.

“What language is this?”

“Lyceian,” Lacy said.  “Tri’ni, my name is Lacy Ursdail.  This is my, well, my adopted brother, Babb.”

“Babb the Bold,” Babb corrected, still laughing.

“And this,” Lacy continued, “is David Waryeye.  And the man who saved you is Allar.”

David cleared his throat.  “Sorry to interrupt all this, but if the young lady would like to help us, could she tell us if there are any more of those things in here?”

Tri’ni shook her head.  “I don’t think so.  There’s usually this sort of . . . heaviness, in the air, when the Il’ishar are nearby.  They’re related to the Trillith, though, what am I doing?  Of course you wouldn’t know about that.  Unless. . . .”

Babb had stopped laughing, and he asked, “No, we don’t know anything about that.  To be perfectly honest, we’re pretty lost.  So, you’re not evil, are you?  Because Al here seems to think you’re dangerous.”

Tri’ni looked at Allar cautiously, her green eyes staring into his.  He looked down for a moment, then forced himself to look back at her, but by then she had turned away.

“I am running,” Tri’ni said.  “I can probably help you, if you let me.  I’ve been helped by people from the surface before, so I don’t believe all the rumors about you either.  

“Um, thank you for saving my life.  I don’t know any of you, but thank you.  Don’t worry.  I’ll help you however I can.  If you give me a little while, I can explain what I know, but we should get away from these caves.  I know a place, . . . not far away?”

Lacy looked around.  “Is anyone hurt?”

Allar saw her glance at him, and at the various cuts he had received from the strange water trolls.  He shrugged.  “Don’t worry about me.  We should go.”

Tri’ni grinned at him, and she spun away to guide them.  As the group walked, Allar felt a coldness descend upon him.  He knew the rest of them, even David, were happier now, intrigued by the woman.  He, though, was only reminded of guilt, from long ago.  He walked, but felt the air pressing heavily down upon him, like a cold weight.


----------



## RangerWickett (Jun 22, 2004)

*Episode Two: The Song of the Deep, Pt. II, Section II*

“There are creatures, called Trillith, that live in the deepest chasms, at the end of all rivers, at the edges of the Sunless Sea.”

Tri’ni chuckled, nervously. “We actually call it that, even though none of us have ever seen the sun. The name is ancient. I wouldn’t have believed the sun existed if I hadn’t already met people from the Great Above. Dentalles, Cloin, Entras, and Javin. They were a little like you.”

The four surface dwellers followed Tri’ni as she guided them through the flooded cavern. The water stretched for miles, through dozens of chambers, all as quiet and lifeless as the first.

“Why is there nothing alive here?” Allar asked, cautiously.

“The Il’ishar – the water creatures that were trying to catch me – people say they guard the tunnels to the Great Above. More of them have been showing up downriver, though. Many more. That’s part of the reason why I was running. Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all if you let me.”

Allar looked out into the near darkness of the latest chamber. He found he could not look at the young woman for long.

Babb eagerly said, “Go ahead.”

“Well, I was saying, Dentalles and the others, they had come from the surface. There is a market city, Melasurej, far to the south, where occasionally human merchants will come to sell things from the surface. I’ve never been there, at least not since I can remember, but my father used to go often, and that’s how he met them.

“I don’t know all the details, but, . . . at the time, my father was working for a Trillith. They never work in the open. Actually, I think most anyone who had the chance would try to kill a Trillith. They’re unnatural. They control you.”

Tri’ni shivered.

David asked, “What do you mean? What are these Trillith?”

Tri’ni considered for a moment, then said, “When I was seven, my father moved us to a new village. We were the only two Taranesti there. The rest were Goblins, and then there was the Trillith. I know my father had only met the thing once before, but he treated it like it was his best friend. Everyone did. It wasn’t there most of the time, not with a body. They’re like, I suppose, like ghosts, but they were never alive in the first place. They have no body, unless they animate something. The one at our village usually simply animated robes and tendrils – eels, and other dead lake creatures. It always smelled of death, but we didn’t mind. It was our closest friend.

“I’ve actually only ever seen the one, but my father talked about others. Ours would send him on trips, to collect things for it. I was just a girl then, so I still don’t know what it was doing, but on one of those trips, my father met Dentalles and the others from the surface. I think they were trying to stop a man who was selling surface people as slaves. Mostly sexual playthings that nobles could buy, since there are more than enough native slaves already.

“I was a slave, actually, when I was too young to remember.” Tri’ni looked down and grinned slightly. “I never was used for work. They kept me around the market to make the rest of their ‘merchandise’ look better. My father accidentally stole me, and got himself run out of Melasurej for twelve years. He’s not actually my father, but he took care of me. He always tried to teach me magic, but I never got the feel for it. And then once the Trillith started controlling him, he stopped being himself as much.”

She sighed, then shook her head slightly.

“Anyway, my father became friends with Cloin. He was a human sorcerer. My father was always pretty strange, but I guess that made him more endearing than the rest of the Taranesti or Guenhavesti.”

“Guenhavesti?” Babb asked.

Allar answered. “They’re another group of dark elves. A different nation, but practically the same race.”

Tri’ni looked dubiously at Allar. “I’ll just say that I’m not surprised you don’t know the truth, since you’re not from around here. Dentalles used to tell me you have stories about Taranesti coming up to the surface and terrorizing everybody, but I was always sure it had to be Guenhavesti. They’re violent and cruel.”

“Hey,” Babb said, “get back to the story. Don’t let Al bother you.”

David sighed. “You keep talking about your father in the past. I take it this story has a bad ending?”

Tri’ni nodded. “About ten years ago, yes, my father did die. Dentalles and the others, they managed to find out about the Trillith, and they tried to kill it.”

“What happened?” Babb asked. “You escaped, right?”

Tri’ni shrugged, looking uncomfortable with the question. “The Trillith made my father fight to defend it. I- . . . I don’t think he could have resisted, really. For nine years, the thing had been twisting his mind to make him think it was his closest friend in the world. My father was a fairly strong sorcerer, and he wasn’t himself at the end. He killed Javin. I saw him just turn to dust before my eyes. Cloin ended up killing my father.”

Tri’ni paused, and Lacy said, “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

Allar noticed Lacy turn a short stare toward him.

Tri’ni again shook her head. “It’s not that. It was ten years ago, so I’m fine telling the story. It’s just that I haven’t really had that many people to talk to in a long time.

“My father died, and Dentalles used some kind of spell they had prepared that made the Trillith vulnerable. Normally, they say you can’t hurt a Trillith. Magic can affect them a little, maybe hurt them some, but they don’t have normal bodies. If you destroy whatever they’re in, they just get a new body. But somehow the spell they had forced the thing into a real, solid body. Something you could make bleed.

“It was hideous. Somehow, when it lost its . . . its ghost form, it lost its hold on us. I had already been becoming able to resist it occasionally, since it had never really used its powers on me. But I couldn’t do much by myself. I managed to. . . .” 

She chuckled, embarrassed. “Well, I was furious with it, and I remember, as soon as I saw it was solid, that it had a real body, I threw a rock at it, hitting one of those rotting, wriggling eel tentacles. After I hit it, all the goblins seemed to realize how offensive it was. Its body really wasn’t that strong. They tore it to pieces. When it died, something happened, like I could feel it again in my mind for a moment, and then one of the goblins just screamed and died. The others said he was the last one to hit it, like somehow it dying killed him.”

The others had expressions of disgust or mild distaste. Allar was impassive, though he seethed within. He was looking for something in the girl’s expression or tone of voice to reveal that she was lying, but this whole land below was so strange, he didn’t know where to begin to doubt her. Seeing the others listening with concern for the girl, Allar felt a pained relief that they were here to keep him from being rash.

“Afterward,” Tri’ni continued, “it was just Dentalles, Cloin, Entras, and me. We found a new cave far away, since we didn’t know if other Trillith might come after us. We ended up not far from here, and they told me they would follow a river back up to the surface, then come back for me in a year. I guess they didn’t know how far they were from any cities up there. I came back the next three years, but they never showed up, and I never risked going past these caves here before. That was seven years ago.”

“You’re twenty-six now?” David asked. She nodded, and David said, “Why did they think this way would lead out?”

Tri’ni stopped, and pointed to a crack in the side of the passage. Water was spraying from it in a thin waterfall.

“They had to do a lot of investigating, but they learned about this place from some explorers. Up here in the mountains, water flows into these tunnels from time to time, and when the place fills up, it flows into the river. I’m guessing you came in the same passage?”

Lacy nodded, but Babb said, “Wait, we’re in the mountains?”

Tri’ni frowned. “Ah, sorry. This language magic confuses me a little. I don’t know exactly what a mountain is for you, but for us it’s a part of the tunnels that are near the surface. Very little lives in these parts, and if you go up high enough the air gets warm or cold depending on the time of year.”

David said, “Sounds like we’d be near the surface then, yes.”

“For us, Tri’ni,” Babb said, “mountains are really big rocks that go high up into the sky. Most land on the surface is flat, but mountains are jagged, rough, and, y’know, hard to walk on.”

Tri’ni seemed puzzled by this. After a moment she shrugged. “Well, Cloin said he had a reason to think he’d be able to get to the surface through these tunnels, but if he explained why, it didn’t make any sense to me. I hope they did make it, but if they couldn’t find their way back to me, I want to find them now.”

“You said you were running,” Allar stated. He tried to sound accusatory. Tri’ni grinned, though, and he found he couldn’t keep his angry stare at her.

“Yeah. The Il’ishar that live in these mountain lakes have been showing up a lot, close to actual cities, like they’re being called by something. I . . . I don’t know much you believe in this sort of thing, but I’ve been having nightmares a lot lately, dreaming about times that I couldn’t remember clearly before, back when the Trillith was controlling my father and me. I was getting nervous, and I left one of the furthest out villages about ten days ago, and left the last goblin village three days ago.

“People were getting nervous, saying that people had been vanishing in their sleep. Sometimes I heard rumors of people describing feeling like they were sleeping, like they were thinking someone else’s thoughts, and it reminded me of the Trillith. The last day before I left, there were rumors that, at a Taranesti village on another river, twelve young women were drowned and slashed. So I fled.”

“I think one of them might have been following me.” She stopped walking, then glanced around nervously. “I was hoping there wouldn’t be any Il’ishar here, but they were just waiting for me, the moment I got here.”

Lacy nodded. “We did feel some strange things in the air as we came up the tunnel. We almost considered turning back.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Tri’ni sighed. “I don’t think they were going to kill me. It’s just a guess, mind you, but I think they were going to take me away somewhere. Again, and I really can’t say this enough, thank you so much for being there to save me.”

Babb chuckled. “We lead a charmed life. Well, except for Lacy. Monsters always go after her first.”

Tri’ni smiled. “Thanks. And I don’t want to bring bad news, but when we stop to rest, you should probably check for ticks. The river down there is right on the edge of a swamp.”

“So this whole place isn’t that fungus-y?” Babb asked. “Well, at least its ticks and not mold.”

David twitched. “I hate this place. So, Allar, do we follow her?”

Babb smiled at Allar and laughed. “I just hope you won’t get any broodier than you are now. She’s a sweet girl, might even know how to get us the hell out of here. You could show some appreciation and stop glowering at her.”

Allar glowered at Babb for a moment, then turned to the dark Elf. “You sound like you want to go to the surface. I don’t want any dark Elves on the surface.”

Tri’ni stepped back, her emerald eyes flashing with anger. “You don’t see me complaining about you coming down here, do you? Why does everything you say sound like you’re accusing me?”

“Allar,” Lacy said plaintively, “don’t punish her. Those things are trying to kill her, or worse.”

“And her people are killers.” He grabbed Tri’ni’s arm pulled her close, glaring at her. “Those ‘stories’ you heard about dark Elves attacking the surface weren’t just stories. Your kind have snuck into our villages and towns in the night and murdered families. Your kind burned down my home and left a three-year old child to die, buried in ice. I won’t let you lie to yourself and say it was someone else who did it. It doesn’t matter if they think you’re nice, or safe. You’re just as bad as the ones that burned down my village, that have been killing for centuries.”

Tri’ni tried to pull free, her lip quivering in shock. “What?”

“Why are these creatures following you? You said it yourself. You killed one of them. They want you for some reason. If you come with us, you’ll get us killed too. No. You owe us for saving your life, and you’re going to tell us how to get home. But that doesn’t give you the right to come with us.”

He let her go and she shoved him away. “I’m trying to help you!” she said. “The Il’ishar would have attacked you whether I’d been here or not. What, did you think I _staged_ getting nearly killed? I’m sorry I tricked you into saving my life.”

She bit her lip and turned away. “I’m sorry. I understand why you don’t trust me. I . . . I just need your help. The only people who cared about me are on the surface. I just want to find them, find some place safe to live.”

“Allar,” David said, “what is wrong with you?”

“Don’t try to tell me what to do,” Allar said. “We’re leaving her behind.”

“You’d know something about leaving people behind, wouldn’t you?” David pointed at him accusingly.

“The both of you,” Babb said, “shut the hell up. She can come with us if she wants. She fits all the requirements. Her parents were killed. She has a great desire to see the world. She’s fought monsters and survived. She can be an adventurer.”

Lacy moved to the middle of them, holding out her hands. Everyone stepped away, not wanting to touch her and disrupt her magic. She stood there silently for a moment, looking at them all with an expression that showed she clearly thought they were all behaving ridiculously.

“If anyone wants to go on without this girl, she’ll be going on without me as well. Babb, you feel the same way?”

Babb crossed his arms, grumbling. “Yeah, sure, sis.”

“David?” Lacy asked.

David looked up at Allar, then stepped away. “She’s right, Allar. Look, once we get back up and see some sun, we’ll send her on her own way. But she needs our help now, and we need hers. It wouldn’t be right to leave her.”

Lacy relaxed, then smiled and nodded. “Good. Let’s keep walking, then. Anyone is welcome to come with us. And remember that we have the guy with the light.”

Lacy and Babb began to walk away. Tri’ni hesitated, glancing back at Allar. She smiled apologetically, then followed after them.

David looked up at Allar. “You know you’re wrong on this one. Don’t throw away friends over this twice.”

“David,” Allar whispered. “I don’t want to feel this way.”

The Jispin man grinned. “That’s a good enough start, then. Prayer is admitting you’re not strong enough on your own. Now come on. It’s a long walk, so you’ll have a lot of time for praying.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

David sighed. “Don’t tell _me_ that. Tell _her_ that. But I can already see you won’t.”

“David!” Babb shouted from ahead. “Get us some light!”

Allar smiled weakly, and waved David to go. “It’s alright. I’ll deal with this on my own. You’re right. We need to get going.”

The caves wound on, flooded and dripping, for many more miles. The others talked with Tri’ni, hearing stories of the Great Below. Allar listened, but he kept hearing his own inner anger.

They rested, and traveled again the next day, slowly uphill. Several times he thought he saw or heard someone following them, or he felt a vague unease in the air. But, toward the end of the next day, after a week or more underground, the air grew suddenly chill, and the tunnels rumbled, and they heard a song in the deep.


----------



## RangerWickett (Jul 23, 2004)

*Episode Two: The Song of the Deep, Pt. II, Section III*

“Do you think we’re gonna get paid for this?” Babb asked.

Allar shook his head.  “Keep quiet.  I thought I heard rumbling.”

“Whatever you say.”  Babb turned to the others and held up a hand for them to stop.  They were strung out in a narrow tunnel with rough sides and a smooth walkway, sloping sharply uphill.  Allar was poised on a lip of stone, listening with his ear to the rock while he still held a climbing spike in one hand.

The tunnel thrummed around them, a deep sound shaking up through the ground.  Allar pulled his head away and rubbed his ear, then looked down to Tri’ni, twenty feet beneath him in the middle of the group.  “Is this place about to cave in?”

“No.”  The dark Elf shook her head while the charm around her neck translated her words into Lyceian.  “That’s an air tremor.  A cave in, you’d either not hear it at all, or you’d hear the sounds of cracking.  Can you feel the pressure dropping a bit now?”

“What?”  Allar glared at her, then shook his head.  “What are you saying it is?”

Tri’ni shrugged, then scrambled up the chute-like tunnel to stand beside Allar.  The handholds were limited, forcing her and Allar to stand less than a foot apart.  She held out a hand for the climbing spike.  

Beneath them, Babb said, “Damn, you climb fast.  Allar, let her lead.”

Allar leaned back nervously away from the dark-skinned woman, then pressed the spike and a small hammer into her hand.  She tucked them away in her vest, then reached for the coil of rope Allar had been stringing out for the others to follow.  The cave rumbled again, and Allar could actually hear it more in the air than in his feet and hands.

“You don’t know what’s making that sound?” Allar asked.  

“Not at all,” she whispered, her expression nervous.  “It sounds a little like a lava geyser, but we’re too high up for that.  Well, we’ll see in a few minutes, regardless.”

She crawled away up the nearly vertical passage, trailing the rope behind her.  The air continued to growl ominously, but through the noise, Allar could make out the sound of a hammer tapping a spike into place.  Then, somewhere subtle beneath that sound, he thought he heard a voice, singing, echoing up from beneath him.

“It’s sturdy!” Tri’ni called down.  “Climb on up.”

Allar glanced up, then back down, uneasy.  He waved for Babb to go up past him, and he moved to the side of the tunnel, descending awkwardly, first past Babb, then down to David and Lacy.

“Get up,” he said.  “Hurry.”

They looked at him with concern, but obeyed, climbing as quickly as they could while Allar slid down the rope, over a hundred feet.  When he reached relatively flat ground, he crouched and listened.  The sound of the cavern rumbling still filled the air, but he could hear it more clearly now, that same voice singing as from in the tomb.  With the strange echoes of the caves, it could be coming from thirty feet away or half a mile.  Hesitantly, Allar drew out his small lantern and lit it.

The song, if it had ever been there, stopped.  Allar flashed the lantern light into the darkness of the cave, high-ceilinged, with a precarious rift just feet away from him, the floor really more a pile of rubble than anything nature might carve over centuries.  The dim light of the lantern revealed the entirety of the small chamber, so Allar fixed his gaze at the only entrance large enough for a man, twenty feet away, set into a wall of cracked stone.

“Who’s there?” Allar called.

From above him, Babb shouted something, but the echoes muddled his words so Allar couldn’t understand.  Allar hesitated, trying to force himself to see something in the darkness, hear something above the dull rumble of the caverns above, but there was nothing.  He shivered, then turned back to climb the rope, laughing quietly at himself for his nervousness.

The climb back up seemed to take several minutes, passing slowly and unwillingly, held up by Allar’s thoughts on the course he had taken to get this far.  He’d been saved by many lucky escapes, survived monsters, traps, and the wilds of a land he had barely believed in, but he still did not feel he had won anything.  The only purpose he could see lay somewhere with the dark Elf.  That thought weighed heavily upon him, and he struggled the last few feet to the top of the tunnel, not wanting to see her again.

Tri’ni was no where in sight, however, and it was Babb who pulled him up, a wide grin on his face.  “You afraid of a little thunder?”

“What do you mean?”  Allar cautiously untied the rope and began to roll it up, just in case someone was following.  He looked around, seeing he was alone with Babb and a small lantern.  “Where’s everyone else?”

“Follow me,” Babb laughed.  “You hear that rumbling?”

Allar nodded as they walked through this new section of cave, wide, rough, and jagged, sloping upward and ahead of them.  The others came into view, standing inside the entrance to a huge chamber, the three of them looking up at the ceiling.  They were somehow illuminated by faint light from above.  The air thrummed again, less distorted now.

“Does it sound a bit more familiar now,” Babb continued, “now that there’s no cave in the way?  Look up.”

They came out of the narrow tunnel, and Allar turned his gaze upward.  Far, far overhead, beyond the rocky walls that stretched high and away all around them, there was something massive and gray, reflecting a faint golden light.  Then it flashed, and Allar gasped.  With a sudden crackle of thunder, a stroke of lightning illuminated the stormclouds overhead in the sky.

“My god,” Allar said, relieved.  He leaned against the wall, and realized it was green and soft from a damp carpet of moss.  “We’re out.”

“Sh*t yeah,” Babb shouted.

Allar cried out in joy and hugged Lacy, then Babb, slapping the Geidon on his back.  David grinned and reached up to shake his head, and Lacy nudged Babb in his side with her elbow.  Next to them, Tri’ni stood alone, staring up at the foreign sight of the sky, darkened by stormclouds but still sparking with light.

“Where are we?” Allar asked eagerly, trying to get his bearings.

David pointed upward in a circle.  “We’re in the bottom of some kind of sinkhole, at least a few hundred feet deep.  If that’s a storm, we’d better get to higher ground before it starts raining.”

“I think I see some trees up a little higher,” Allar said.  “That’ll be some cover at least.  How big is this place?”

Allar, finally able to see again in the dim light of the storm, turned to take in the vast sinkhole bottom.  The sinkhole’s lowest level, several hundred feet across, was strewn with rock debris and chasms rent from the stone, all coated with pockets of moss and bits of leafy brush.  At the far opposite side, a twenty-foot wide waterfall cut its way from the top of the inside wall of the sinkhole, then down into a deeper rift.  Though a few ledges jutted from the walls, the opening at the top of the sinkhole was narrower than the bottom, so climbing out in the rain would be nearly impossible.

Another sheet of lightning flashed overhead, and a reflective glint caught Allar’s eye from the middle of the floor, three hundred feet away amid a pile of white stones.  He shined his lantern high, and saw the gleam of dark metal, but he could not make out any more.  Curiosity pulled him toward it, and he called over his shoulder for the others to follow.

David and Lacy slowly started to walk after him, discussing how to get out of the sinkhole.  Babb waited at the exit from the tunnel, the massive Geidon gently pulling Tri’ni to follow, drawing her out of her fascination with the sky.  Allar smiled despite himself, and glanced skyward, just as the first drops of rains began to fall.

“Stupid dark Elf,” he laughed, amused at how stunned she had looked.

He turned to look back at the pile of white stones where the metal lay, and he felt a breeze rush past his face.

_She will not leave here. _

Allar felt the words in his mind, a voice without sound.  Something drew his gaze toward the stones again, and before he realized he had moved, he was standing amid them.  They were not stones, but the scattered skeleton of a mighty beast, fifty feet long or more.

Someone called his name, and he turned numbly to see them approaching.  Through the cacophony of thunder and rain, he heard the dark Elf woman’s voice.  

“This is the Great Above?” she said, walking in a circle, looking upward into the storm.  “It’s . . . it’s so-”

_She taints it, _ the voice again crawled into his mind, and though he could hear no emotion, he felt his own anger surge.  _She is death, and you want her to feel pain. _

Allar nodded to himself.  Twenty feet away, Tri’ni suddenly looked down from the sky, toward him, staring at him with frightened green eyes.  Recognition flashed across her face in the glare of lightning, but she could not open her mouth to speak.  The others were still too busy celebrating to notice as Allar and Tri’ni stared at each other.

_You want her to feel pain.  The tool to harm her lies at your feet. _

He looked down.  His left foot stood upon the splayed ribcage of a human figure, his right on the wrist bones of a hand that had died clutching a charcoal black scimitar, its edge gleaming with white diamonds.

Tri’ni had come closer now, and she was looking down at where Allar stood.  Allar, compelled but not resisting, bent down and picked up the skull.  He held it palm up before Tri’ni’s face.  She tried to look away, but he grabbed her shoulder and forced her to look.  Tears lined her eyes, and she tried to form a word, but her lips quivered.

Allar stepped back, then tossed the skull into the nearest rift, never pulling his eyes away from the dark Elf before him.

“Whose was that?” he asked, calmly, seething with anger.

_She killed him. _

“You killed him.  Didn’t you?”

Tri’ni snapped her head up.  “What?  N- no.  I didn’t, couldn’t –”

_She can never leave here.  She will betray you. _

“I won’t let you leave with us.  You betrayed him, and your father died as punishment!”

Tri’ni tried to back away, nearly tripping, but then her eyes widened in shock.   “A Trillith.Babb, Lacy, help! There’s a Trillith here!”

She turned to run, but Allar grabbed her arm.  She shouted for help, but now all sound drowned away, and all he saw were images of fire and ice, houses burning, shadowed figures cutting their way through his village, tearing through his home, slashing his mother.  

_All you could do then was cower, but you can take vengeance now. _

Reaching for his own scimitar, numb fingers clasping the hilt, Allar felt cold.  Before him struggled a dark Elf, and he could see in the man’s crimson eyes reflections of all the pain Allar had ever seen or imagined, all the tales of cruelty he had been told their evil kind had committed.  He knew that in a few moments he would plunge his knife into the man’s chest, hear his scream, feel his blood flow out as a stain, onto the cavern floor and onto him.  The voice urged him on.  His hand closed over a throat.  The man screamed, and time gave way to the singular moment of exultation in revenge.

Lightning flashed overhead, shining green off the woman’s eyes, and the illusion fell away.  His fingers were digging into Tri’ni’s neck, and his other hand tried to bring the blade of his sword down on her as she struggled to hold him at bay.  Suddenly, she lifted her legs and fell back, and the two of them fell to the ground.  She rolled away, gasping and shouting, but her words came out in Taranesti.  Allar felt the necklace’s strands in his hand, and he tossed it away, then lunged to grab the woman’s leg.

He saw the others running toward him to stop him, and his grip weakened.  He knew something was in his mind, trying to compel him, and he tried to fight it.  The shadows grew long around him, and he heard the rattling of bones.

_You can resist me, yes, but you do not want to.  They know I am here, know you are controlled.  You can resist me, yes, but they do not know it.  Act, on your own, and they will not know. _

Growling, Allar kicked forward and fell upon the girl’s back, pinning her to the ground.  The thing, the Trillith, crept into his memories and showed him his mother dying again, his father fleeing into the death that was the night, faces and friends he had forgotten he had known, all lying in blood-stained snow.  His desire for revenge mixed with panic and terror, and he felt a heavy weight on him.  His mother’s dead body, he thought, but then he felt something grab his arms and pull him, and he saw the roaring face of Babb, mute and furious.  David stood beyond him, but he could not hear the Jispin’s voice.

The Trillith’s words swept over him like a tide, blinding him to the present, dragging him into the darkness of his fears.  But when he looked down to take revenge on those who had killed his family, he saw the beaten body of one of their two Taranesti prisoners.  The icy cave was tight around him, and Telleas was busy tying up their other captive.  They had caught them by surprise, and Allar’s mind recoiled as he felt himself smile at the fear on the dark Elf man’s face.

The hunt had been successful, and they had found two Taranesti that the group would be able to interrogate.  Weeks of training and encouragement from the Tundanesti hunters had prepared him for this delve into the shallow tunnels of the Tunda mountains, and he and Telleas had managed to outmaneuver the pocket of Taranesti, luring off two.  It had only taken moments, and the two were down.  For the first time in years, Allar was face to face with the thing he hated.

“Murdering bastard, you’re scared of me now, aren’t you?”  Allar clenched his fist and beat the dark skinned man in his cheek.  The Taranesti glared at Allar, shouted something, then spat at his face.  Allar scowled and punched him again in the jaw, then slammed his fist down on the man’s nose.  The Taranesti reached out a hand toward Telleas and shouted desperately.  

“Shut up!” Allar yelled.  “I won’t let you kill anyone.”

The Taranesti froze.  He breathed in shallowly, looking into Allar’s eyes, then exhaled.  A whisper passed his lips, and then he darted to grab the dagger in Allar’s belt.  Allar grabbed the man’s hand, and they struggled for control of the weapon.  The dark Elf was shouting angrily, helplessly, and then he screamed.  Allar wrenched the blade from the Taranesti’s hand and out of his belly, and he screamed as well as he slammed the dagger into the man’s chest, trying to make him stop shouting.

The others had told him he would have a chance to kill one of the Taranesti, and he had been afraid, but they had helped him train and grow strong, taught him to always keep the memories of his parents in his mind when he fought.  They would be proud of him, proud that he was defending his people.  He felt whole.

When he finally stopped, he had to catch his breath.  The man beneath him was unrecognizable.  When he tried to stand, it was not guilt but exhaustion that caused him to stumble, his grip on the dagger weak.  He heard the other Taranesti approaching, but he knew he had done a glorious thing.  Only later, when he saw the shame on the face of his old friend David, did he begin to doubt.

In the years since Allar had left the group of hunters, David had never let him forget that day, but he had tricked himself into remembering himself shocked and guilt-stricken immediately.  But he remembered now, the pleasure of revenge.

Then, like the tide, the Trillith’s control swept away from him, and he was free.

Allar stopped struggling, and Babb wrenched the scimitar from his hand, then pulled him off of Tri’ni.

“What the hell are you doing?” Babb shouted, twisting Allar’s arms behind his back, shoving him to the ground.  Lacy was trying to keep Babb from harming him, and Tri’ni shouted something incomprehensible in Taranesti.

“Wait!” David yelled.  “Something’s wrong.”

Thunder crackled overhead and David shouted again.  Babb stopped, still pressing his weight down on Allar’s back.  His face forced into the wet rock of the sinkhole floor, Allar was just able to twist to see Tri’ni, clinging to Lacy and pointing at Allar, yelling, but no one could understand her.  Allar tried to speak, but he could barely breathe, and it came out in a wheeze.

Babb leaned closer, stretching Allar’s arms near to dislocating.  “What are you saying, you son of a bitch?”

“Trillith,” Allar coughed out.  “She’s saying there’s-”

_You have failed me.  You have failed vengeance. _

Allar’s body shook as he tried to force the thing out of his mind.  He did not feel joy now, just guilt and fear, and the voice was unable to overwhelm him.

“David,” Babb was yelling, “Allar’s saying something about that Trillith thing Trin was talking about.  What’s he talking about?”

Suddenly, Tri’ni screamed, and Babb let go.  Allar rolled onto his back and tried to shake the strain out of his arms, but then he saw movement beside him.  The pile of bones had begun to move, giant limbs drawing together, shadows detaching from the surfaces around them and coalescing into tenebrous muscles and flesh.

Babb drew his sword and backed away, and Allar weakly pushed himself to his feet.  “I was trying to tell you, dammit.  It was trying to control my mind.”

Babb pointed his sword toward the rising mass of bones and shadows.  “I think it figured out something a little more dangerous to take control of.”

Allar looked about futilely for his sword, then shook his head.  “Take cover!  Back in the tunnel!”

Allar sprinted away first, hearing a heavy, wet breathing fill the air of the sinkhole.  Behind him, Lacy grabbed Tri’ni and dragged her along after Allar.  He heard David shout something, and the cavern suddenly lit with a burst of flame from a fireball.  Allar looked over his shoulder just in time to see the smoke part, and a massive, snarling black creature roll across the floor like midnight mist.  The mist spiralled upward and flared into a massive winged cloud, intangible but alive.  Babb and David broke and ran.

Over the Trillith’s roar came a high-pitched keen, and Allar spun to look back at the exit passage.  The stone walls around the passage began to crack from the piercing sound, and debris started to fall, blocking the exit.  Beyond the falling stones, just inside the exit tunnel, Allar saw the figure of a man standing, arms raised, singing in joy.  His flesh was wilted and gray, his eyes wide and crazed, and from the back of his tattered burial robe, cracked silvery wings like a dragonfly’s spread to the walls and ceiling.

Allar ran as fast as he could, but the wall over the exit collapsed, and the burst of debris forced him back.  Peals of fey laughter filtered through the cracks in the stone.  

“You did this!” Allar shouted back through the avalanche.  “Send your monster away!”

The voice from the tomb sang back, “True dead, you see, I cannot be, / nor beast I send away. / Though mine it seems, you face a dream, / on which I hold no sway.”

“Let us in!” Lacy cried.  “Why are you trying to kill us?  I’ll kill you!”

Allar glanced at Lacy in confusion, then up at the shadowy Trillith floating overhead.  Thunder filled the cave, and the creature seemed to seep away, reforming with the shadows of the walls, bones and all.  He looked back to Lacy, and saw her trying to blink away the anger on her face.  

_Your pain and fear will flee when the Elfwoman falls.  I wait here, and can be trusted.  I will free you if you heed your desires. _

Allar leaned close to Lacy.  “Don’t listen to it.”

_You have betrayed each other.  Pain must echo pain. _

Babb came up then, pulling his half-buried shield from the debris.  “Don’t listen to what?  I want to kill this bastard too.  You hear that, you undead sack of sh*t?”

Babb stepped onto the pile of rocks and tried to peer through a crack to see the strange singing creature.  Overhead, a few pieces of rock were still cracking, ready to fall, and David shouted for Babb to come down.

Babb waved him away, then peered into the hole.  “Where are you at?”

A thin arm lashed out through the hole, and its hand grabbed Babb’s cheek.  Babb roared in pain and fell away, clutching his cheek.  On Babb’s face, Allar could see the handprint of the creature traced in pustules and decaying flesh.  As the arm drew away back into the stone, he could see that the skin was flush with a lively complexion.

“To my homeland I return, as an undying song, / and unbeing shall come to this world’s all. / You freed me, and shall be spared dream’s vengeful call, / so my gift is death of sunless flesh / my gift is death of jagged maw.”

The stone overhead cracked, and they leapt away in time to avoid being crushed.  As the rocks settled, David muttered, “How generous of him.”

“What impresses me,” Babb said, “is that, even with, you know, magic and all, he’s still able to make that rhyme in every language.”

“Quiet,” Allar ordered.  “I think I hear it again.”

Each of the five looked up, around the walls of the cave, and at the rockslide behind them, trying to locate the source of the song.  It seemed to fill the sinkhole from everywhere, the same song as from in the tomb, but with a dozen voices, singing of grief and of the failure of dreams.  In words none of them could understand, the song told of exile and darkness, of an endless journey, and a rest that could never come.  A song of vigil to the ages.

The song reached its peak, and the shadows of the wall nearby burst.  Like it had been expelled from the womb of the stone, the massive Trillith fell to the ground, covered with dust and stone, coating its now-solid black scales.  The bones were still slightly visible through its inky flesh, and the beast screamed, sinuous umbral flesh twisting in the pain of being corporeal.  It pressed itself to its full height, fifty feet long, wings twice as wide and trailing darkness, four limbs of rending ebony claws, a whipping, bladed tail, and a powerful, serpentine neck, hunched low, lowering the long black maw of the beast to eye level with its victims.  The shadowed flesh rolled away from its eyesockets, revealing pale white bone beneath, glaring and vengeful.

“Dragon,” Allar shouted.  “Everyone, scatter!”

The beast reared back its head, drawing in a breath that shook the cavern walls.  As the group split and ran, the dragon Trillith forced its jaws open to a wide gape, and a roiling cloud of deathly vapors spewed forth, striking the ground near Allar.  He clutched his hands over his mouth and nose and sprinted through it, feeling the mist try to seep into his blood and soul.  But he leapt free, jumping high to a narrow ledge, and weaponless, he sprinted for the cover of a nearby rift in the stone.

The dragon beat its barely-tangible wings, and it swept up into the air, spinning and diving for Lacy and Tri’ni as they made for a pile of boulders to hide.  Lacy shouted and shoved Tri’ni to the ground, and the great beast swept past, grasping Lacy in its foreclaws.  She screamed, and through the darkness across the vastness of the room, Allar saw blood spread across her as the dragon’s claws tore through flesh.

On the open floor, David stood defiantly and held out a talisman.  A spout of fire burst upward from the cracks in the ground around him, spraying into the air like bubbling lava.  The flames sizzled in the intense rainfall, surrounding the Jispin mage with a shield of steam.  He raised his arms and clenched his fists, and the fire leapt into the sky and struck the dragon’s side, scorching its flesh.  The creature roared and twisted in the air, aiming for David.  The Jispin man scrambled and leapt as the dragon swept in, dodging its claws but not its lashing tail.  He was hurled across the sinkhole floor, landing and bouncing through rough piles of stone, coming to a stop just beside the deep rift the waterfall fed into.

The dragon snapped its wings and spun again, angling to the opposite side of the cavern wall, where a thirty-foot high spur of stone provided it cover from spells.  It landed and planted a foreclaw on Lacy, driving her to the ground.  It was only halfway across the room from Allar, so he moved from his hiding place and broke into a run, hoping he could get there in time before Lacy’s screams stopped.  The dragon was content now to have the woman pinned, and it spoke, its voice cracking and enraged.

“You are not my concern.  The Elfwoman killed one of my kind.  This dead beast whose form I wear already slew another of the murderers, his bones twisting within me inside this enforced flesh.”

Lacy screamed, and Allar noticed Babb running parallel to him, in the same direction.  Allar held up a hand, and Babb quickly pulled out a spare short sword, tossing it across the chasm between them.  Allar snatched it up, and together they hit the sinkhole wall, leaping and climbing for the beast’s perch.

Above them, it spun, still pinning Lacy, but now leering out from behind the rock spur, its spread wings suddenly cutting off the drenching rainfall.  It planted a foreclaw upon the wall, ready to pounce down at them, and snarled.

“My last offer: abandon the Elf girl, and this one lives.”

Allar growled back up at the dragon, not stopping as he scrambled up the cliff face, but he saw Babb slowing.

“Al,” he shouted, “she’s my sister.  I can’t. . . .”

He didn’t turn to look down at the Geidon.  Still climbing, he declared, “I’m not letting you make that choice.”

The dragon lashed out with its claw, and Allar leapt to the side, grabbing desperately at a loose ledge as the one he’d just been standing on shattered under the beast’s blow.  He twisted his body enough to get a good footing on the wall, and then he kicked upward and away, back toward the claw.  Before the dragon could pull back, Allar landed on the claw, grabbing onto a knuckle with one hand, driving his sword between scale and bone with the other.  The dragon hissed and tried to shake Allar free, but he clung tenaciously, his limbs and stomach lurching as he was swung out over fifty feet of empty space.

Then he heard Babb roar into battle, and the Geidon’s sword drove into the leg that was pinning Lacy.  Distracted in two directions, the dragon let go of Lacy and kicked Babb away, then bent its neck to bite him, and instead of trying to fling Allar free, the Trillith simply planted its claw back on solid stone, nearly snapping Allar’s legs from the weight.  Allar let go and began to weakly crawl for Lacy, trying to ignore the thrashing and clamping sounds of the dragon devouring Babb.

He tried to reach for Lacy to pull her to safety, but she held out a hand to ward him.  Clutching at her bleeding chest and stomach, she wheezed out an incantation, then suddenly moved her hands away.  A spark of light flashed between her palms, and she sighed in relief.  She moved her hands back to her wounds and recited the same chant, and she began to heal.

“Too many Elves and monsters touching me,” she said weakly.  “The auras disrupted my spell.”

“My leg’s broke,” Allar said.

Still bleeding slightly, Lacy stood up and glanced to where the dragon and Babb were struggling.  She nodded quickly and began to cast a spell to heal Allar, and Allar could only watch as he waited for his strength to return.

The dragon towered over Babb, swatting at him with its claws, first from the side, then from above, trying to knock him away or pin him to the ground.  His hooves digging into the unsteady rock face, Babb held his huge shield high to block most of the blows, but some swung past his guard and crashed into his armor, knocking him back.  The top corner of his shield had been ripped away, leaving the jagged pattern of the dragon’s teeth marked in it.  Babb chopped with his sword whenever a claw drew near, but the Trillith was keeping its head high.  Allar could see a great gash torn through the shadow flesh of its jaw, revealing bare bone beneath, the result of the dragon’s attempt to bite through Babb’s armored defenses.

His short sword was still imbedded in the monster’s claw, so Allar pulled his last resort dagger from its sheath and stood, taking a measure of how he could do anything against this huge beast.  Lacy came up beside him, holding her slender sword, useful against human foes but not something as large as the dragon.  They stood immobile for several moments, daunted, but then Allar spied movement at the bottom of the sinkhole, fifty feet below.

Tri’ni was shouting, flailing her arms in the air at the Trillith, no doubt using untranslated obscenities.  The black dragon paused for a moment to glare at her, and Babb rushed in under its claws, driving his sword up into the beast’s chest.  It snarled and leapt into the air, buffeting Babb with its wings as it drew back from the blow.  Allar and Lacy charged at it from behind, and Babb swiped at one of its hind legs, but the creature lifted into the air and dove away, toward Tri’ni.  Allar nearly stumbled from the ledge as his foe flew away, and he watched it beat its huge black wings, angling for the dark Elf woman.

Just as it was about to grasp her, she dropped to the ground and rolled into one of the many cracks in the floor, taking cover.  The dragon landed beside the rift and skidded in the slick of rainfall, but dug its claws in and roared down into the narrow rift, too small for it to reach into.

At the high ledge, Lacy and Allar ran up next to Babb, but he shook his head and slumped against the wall.  Lacy started to reach for his wounds, but he pointed down at the dragon.  

“Just give me a breather,” he said.  “I ain’t banged up too bad.”

Lacy hesitated, seeing the cracks and rents in his armor, but she broke away and began to clamber down the cliff side.

“Babb,” Allar said, “give me your sword.”

“What, this one?”  The Geidon held up his sword and squinted at him dubiously.  The last foot of the sword was missing, snapped off in the dragon’s ribs.  “Anyway, I already gave you a sword.  Dammit, start pulling your weight around here.  And get the rest of my sword back.”

Allar cursed and started down the rough cliff toward the dragon, armed only with a dagger.

At the rift into which Tri’ni had ducked, the Trillith dragon drew in a heavy breath and exhaled downward, black choking vapors spreading into the rift.  The beast waited, as if expecting its prey to run, but Lacy reached it and thrust her sword into its thigh.  The dragon merely shrugged, pulling the sword from Lacy’s grasp, and then it snapped its tail across her, sending her to the ground.  It moved away from the life-drinking mist and began to circle Lacy, swatting at her with a claw whenever she moved.

Shifting direction to come in from behind the beast, Allar jumped over a narrow rift and came in quickly.  The dragon cocked its head to the side, hearing him approach, and it spun to pounce on him, but Allar leapt into a forward dive and tumbled under the strike, coming to his feet between the dragon’s legs.  It kicked blindly at him, and he spun to the side to dodge, slashing ineffectually at the hind claw.  Confused, the giant creature tried to move to get a clear swing at him, but he weaved between its legs, using its own body as cover against it.  He was about to break and run for Lacy when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and felt claws rake him on his arm.  The blow staggered him, and he fell helplessly to the ground.

David’s voice sounded from not far away, “Burn, fiend!”

The black mist parted forcefully, revealing the battered mage channeling through his talismans.  He glowed briefly, and then an incandescent seed of red flame flew from his hand.  Allar rolled to hide his face, but when the seed struck the dragon and burst into a rolling sphere of fire, the beast’s body shielded Allar from the explosion.

The dragon roared and lashed its wings to drive away the flames, but no sooner were the flames extinguished when another ball of fire exploded across the beast’s flank, melting away flesh, revealing the eerily animated skeleton beneath.  The dragon stomped once spitefully at Allar, narrowly missing, then leapt into the air, making for the waterfall and cover.

David sent a barrage of black bolts through the air after the dragon, and Allar and Lacy both ran for the rift.  The black smoke had cleared, but Tri’ni had been caught in it for nearly a minute.

“Toss down a rope,” Allar said.  “I’m getting her out.”

Climbing down the inside of the rift was difficult because of the rainfall on the stones, and he had to fight to remain focused when he heard thunder and wasn’t sure if it was the storm or the dragon swooping overhead.  But Lacy soon dropped a line beside him, and he was able to slide the last fifteen feet to the bottom of the rift.  His feet splashed into thigh-high water, and he felt something soft where the ground should be.  Then it moved, and he gasped, reaching down to help pull Tri’ni free from the water.

She came up choking and gasping, her arms scraped, and her skin bruised all across her body, more a purple-black than her normal dark grey.  Though the water had shielded her from most of the vapors, evidently it hadn’t been enough.  She said something in Taranesti, smiled weakly, and held up two fingers.

“Whatever you say,” Allar agreed.  He gestured for the rope, then pointed up.  Tri’ni nodded, and started to climb, weakly.  Allar moved up beside her and lent an arm for support.

“Allar,” Lacy shouted from above, “it’s moving again.”

Allar looked up and could see the opening of the sinkhole, high overhead.  Lightning flashed, silhouetting the dragon in flight, and then it spun in mid-air, swooping past the the lip of the sinkhole.  Red light flashed in the air as another of David’s spells flew for the dragon, and just as Allar and Tri’ni cleared the top of the rift, the dragon flew through the explosion of flame and released something.

David cried out in shock as a massive tree, torn from the top of the sinkhole, crashed across the ground.  He tried to dive away, but the branches swept across him, and the tree bounced past him toward Lacy.  Allar grabbed Tri’ni and shoved her back down into the rift just in time for the tree to miss them, but when they came back up, David was sprawled unconscious twenty feet away, and Lacy was pinned by the tree at the edge of the ravine.  Overhead, the dragon roared in laughter and began to circle for another pass.

Allar and Tri’ni raced to beside Lacy and began to pull her free from the pinning tree.  She cried out in dismay and went limp in their arms.

Allar shook her and shouted, “Don’t give up.  Never surrender.  You have magic.  Do something!”

She shook her head and tried to look away in fear, and Allar cursed.  The dragon was lining up to strafe them, so he jumped and climbed to the top of the fallen tree.  Clenching his dagger, he prepared to jump when the dragon moved past them.

Below him, Lacy sagged and cried, and Tri’ni knelt next to her, hugging her, whispering soothingly but forcefully.  Lacy looked up at Tri’ni, then past her to Allar, just as the dragon flew in.

It snapped its teeth at Allar as he jumped at it, with the unintended effect of catching Allar’s free hand in its jaw and lifting him away.  Its tail slashed across the ground, and Tri’ni shoved herself and Lacy away just in time.  The tail crashed into the tree and cut it nearly in two, sending a spray of wood shards into the air.  When the cloud of splinters cleared, the dragon was circling high, Allar’s one arm pinned in its mouth, his other slashing for the creature’s throat with the dagger.

The dragon pressed its jaws together, digging into his flesh, snapping bone.  Allar screamed, but kept stabbing, driving his dagger into the dark scales beneath the bone white eye.  Wheeling in the air, the dragon dove through the waterfall and flailed its head, driving Allar into the wall.  It opened its jaws and let go of its hold, and for a moment, Allar knew he would fly free and shatter his body on the sinkhole wall, but his grip on the dagger held, and he spun around the beast’s head, falling away just enough to dangle beside the monster’s serpentine neck.  

He felt something jab into his ribs, and he looked down to see a man’s skeleton encased in the black flesh beneath him, missing its skull.  In the skeleton’s hand lay a black scimitar, and the blade was half-emerged from the dragon’s flesh.  Even from just lightly touching it, it had cut through his shirt and armor, and was slashing into his body.  His left arm mangled, his body bruised and slashed, he had no way to reach the blade without letting go and falling hundreds of feet.

Then below him, something flared with light.  Beside the tree, the dark Elf and Lacy were standing, glowing strangely.  For an instant, light flashed around him, and he felt intense heat and a dull pounding deafness in his ears.  Then the dragon went limp and began to plummet.  A booming crackle of thunder echoed through the cavern, and Allar realized the dragon had been struck by a lightning bolt.  

The beast went into freefall, and Allar with it.

Releasing his hold, Allar forced his hand through the barely-solid flesh of the dragon, and he wrenched the scimitar from the skeleton’s grasp.  The hilt’s leather pressed soothingly into his palm, and he pulled the blade free from the dragon’s neck.  A moment passed when he felt he knew the memories of many people, and the song of the fey whispered through the cave, and then everything around him dissolved into shadow.



“Who was he?” Lacy asked.

Water lashed his face, and thunder filled his ears, but these were too constant to wake him.  What woke him was the voice of the dark Elf.

“He was Dentalles.  That was his sword.  He must have died fighting that great reptile, when. . . ,” she paused and her voice broke.  “I hope the others escaped.”

“Ug,” Allar said.  He opened his eyes, and then squinted as rain sprayed him.

“Thank God you’re alright,” David whispered to him.  “You sure do like falling.”

Allar rolled onto his side, but Lacy pressed him back onto his back.  He felt pain everywhere.

“You saved our lives,” Lacy said.

“No,” Babb said.  “He nearly fell to his death again.  That freak lightning bolt saved our lives.”

“That lightning bolt was aimed for me,” Lacy said.  “I tried to cast the only offensive spell I could, and Allar and Tri’ni’s Elf auras disrupted the whole thing.  We were just lucky the dragon was in the way.”

Tri’ni laughed.  “You all saved our lives.  Well, saved my life is more like it.  Thank you.”

There was a moment of silence, and Allar weakly sat up, braced on his one good arm.  They were at the trailing edge of the thunderstorm, the rain and lightning fading slowly, and the sky was clear in one direction, the direction everyone was facing.  The sun sat on the horizon, flanked by two mountains, shimmering in red, purple, and orange.

“Sunrise?” Allar asked.

“It’s setting,” David said.  “I’m guessing we’re in the western Otdar Mountains.”

“Sun set,” Tri’ni said.  She squinted at the dim light of the fading sun, the golden glow gleaming on her dark skin, glinting off the drops of rain.  A new translation charm lay on her neck, and she held it in her fingers absently as she pondered the descending sunset.

Allar looked down, pained.  He had almost hoped to die against the monster.  It would have been easier than remembering what he had felt, how easily it had driven him to vengeance.

A hand touched him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Tri’ni sitting close.  Her emerald eyes held his, and she smiled, gently and intentionally.

“One of those things made my own father try to kill me.  I won’t say this wasn’t frightening, but I’ve had worse.”

She grinned.  “And you fought off its control, too.  You did save my life, Allar.”

He breathed in slowly.  “I’m sorry.”

She chuckled.  “You _are_ a lot like Dentalles.  He was too sad and guilty all the time, and it probably killed him.”

She paused.  Allar looked down at the black scimitar, wrapped in a drenched white cloth, laying between them.

“Dentalles was a friend,” she said.  “I know he would have given his life to save mine.  He probably would’ve done it to save anyone, honestly.  But I wish he hadn’t.  I had never had friends before, and now I know that one of them is gone.

She grinned at him, then stood and walked back to watch the sunset.  “Don’t go dying any time soon, alright?”

Allar sighed, feeling one less pain now.  He almost smiled.  Then Babb came up next to him and kicked him lightly in the leg.  Allar looked up, shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand.  Babb glared down at him disapprovingly.

Allar sighed in exasperation.  “Yeah, Babb?”

“You’re not going to throw a fit about having a dark Elf around, are you?”

“Did you not just see me jump onto a dragon?  You didn’t think I was doing that to save your hairy neck, did you?”

Babb scratched his neck nervously.  “Actually, I was kinda passed out at that point.  I’m just glad you’re being more rational now.”

Allar laughed and shook his head.  “I’ll be fine.”

“You think we’re gonna get paid for this?”

“The dragon didn’t have any treasure?”

Babb snorted derisively.  “Wasn’t even a dragon, really.  Just a big lizard.  Those wings weren’t even real.  The bones are worthless.  Damn thing impaled itself on that tree and shattered into a jillion pieces.  I don’t know how the hell you survived.  This ‘adventure’ was a bust.”

Allar looked away from Babb to consider the dark Elf woman.  She was leaning back, looking to the sky as the last flickers of lightning flashed.  Slowly, the woman held up one hand, stretched out a finger, and spun it.  An arc of lightning skittered down her finger, then died out.  She smiled and looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

Allar nodded to her, then sighed.  

To Babb he said, “I’m sure she’ll be worth something.  If nothing else, I’m sure some idiot noble’s going to pay for us to go back down there.”

Taking in a breath of clear, surface air, Allar closed his eyes and let the storm blow across the mountains.


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## RangerWickett (Aug 1, 2004)

My writing speed has picked up a lot since then.  It took me three months to write the first two chapters.  I've written my two latest in about a month.  I still need to speed up, though.


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## RangerWickett (Aug 1, 2004)

*Episode Three: Dreams of the Dead, Section I*

The predawn glow from beyond the mountains seemed best for viewing the blade.  In this light, the gentle sphere of the pommel was marble, a dim gray, almost black.  The hilt, wrapped in deep purple velvet, stitched with tarnished silver wire, was worn ever so slightly where the wielder’s fingers would hold it.  The guard felt like ivory, polished, smooth except for slight lengthwise cracks.  It too was nearly black, charred perhaps, curving gently down above the knuckles, gently upward over the wrist, capped on both ends by black pearls.

“I’m sensing a definite motif here,” David muttered, holding the scimitar carefully, the curved, three-foot weapon almost as tall as him.

The blade was the most remarkable, its trailing edge marked with sharp angles and harsh black lines, its cutting edge a graceful crescent of sharpened white diamonds set into the weapon’s metal.  The flat of the blade felt as smooth as any steel, but it was completely dark, appearing from even arm’s length to be coated with some manner of powder that kept any light from reflecting from it.

Sunlight broke the horizon, and all of the subtle colors and textures of the weapon melted away to black.  Try as he might, David could not force himself to see the violet of the hilt, the faint iridescence of the pearls.  In the hiding gleam of light, it was perfect, black upon black.

“What do you think?” Allar asked.

“It’s probably Elvish.”  David handed it back to his old friend.  “But I’m just guessing that because it’s too pretty to ever work without magic.  There’s no identifying marks, no great magical aura, nothing to really distinguish it at all.  Whoever made it, they weren’t the boasting type.”

“The dark Elf said it had belonged to the Tundanesti that was in the group she knew.  She said his name was Dentalles.”

The name hung in the air, as if Allar expected David to recognize it.  After a moment, David shook his head.  “You can’t think it’s that Dentalles.  He was an Elvish prince.”

Allar shrugged.  “He went on pilgrimage, what, fifteen years ago.  Never came back.  The divinations said he had ‘fallen in the land below.’”

“How do you know that?”

Allar was suddenly nervous.  He rubbed the raw, magically-healed flesh over his mangled left arm.  “You remember that, um, group I joined up with a few years ago?”

David nodded.  Allar had grown up under the care of David’s caravan after having been rescued from the flaming ruins of his real family’s village.  Always slightly uncomfortable among the short Jispin, Allar had left when he was sixteen, trying to find a place first among the humans of Kequalak, then with the Tundanesti Elves.  David had as a favor to his uncle set out to find the young Allar, eventually coming across him among a group of Tundanesti hunters outside of the city of Nacaan.  From what little David had seen, the hunters were zealously devoted to defending Tundanesti traditions, and they encouraged all of their number to fervently believe what they were doing was right.

Allar had not even been a young man at the time, but he had been convinced he had found a new family.  David had tried to persuade him to leave and return to the caravan, where people knew and cared for him, but in the end it had been none of David’s doing that had made Allar leave.  It wasn’t until later that David learned why, but Allar left the hunters soon after his first encounter with the Taranesti Elves.  Confused at his own actions, Allar had fled far south to the Nozama capital of Lyceum, and David went with him.  Eventually they became friends, and Allar admitted that he had killed a Taranesti man on his hunt.

For the past eight years, he and Allar had been together, and though originally David had been certain that Allar would return home, four years ago they were hired as bodyguards for the Elstrician noble Harlan Gucci, then later promoted to ‘adventurers,’ and now David wondered if he and Allar would ever return to their home in the Tunda Mountains.  And if they did, David could only hope that Allar would not fall in with the same group as he had before.

“What about them?” David asked.

“Part of the reason we were supposed to be searching the tunnels,” Allar said, “was for clues of where the prince had vanished to.  Of course, only one of the old group ever actually went very far into the caves, so we never learned anything, but. . . .  I don’t know.”

“What do you want to do?” David asked.

“We’re going to take this home.”  Allar slid the scimitar into the sheath that had held his old sword, now lost somewhere in the flooded sinkhole.  “They’ll probably hate me if I bring it back with word that Dentalles was friends with a dark Elf, but maybe if we’re lucky it will convince them what they’re doing is wrong.”

David drew in a surprised breath, and lay a considering eye upon his old friend.  Rather than let on that he was pleased, however, he said, “We’re two mountain ranges in the wrong direction for that.”

Allar smiled. “Oh, you know where we are?  We should wake the others and tell them.  Can you go find the dark Elf?”

David nodded.  “Alright.”

As Allar staggered away to wake Lacy and Babb, David gathered up his still-soaked clothes and slipped on the overrobe for at least some decency.  Grimacing at the clamminess of the robe, he headed downhill, following the direction he last saw Tri’ni going.  Down the mountainside slightly, he spotted her standing on a rock, trying to reach a low branch among a copse of trees.  She was squinting at the brightness of the newly risen sun, and making an ill-aimed swipe at a branch, she lost her balance and fell.

David came up to her as she pushed herself to her feet, favoring her right arm.

“Good morning, Tri’ni.”

She nodded weakly, then pressed her back to a tree, standing in its shadow.  “How much brighter will this get?  I can’t really see.”

David shrugged, and was about to reply when he noticed she was missing some of her clothes.  She still had on her vest, boots, and gloves made of the strange violet and black hide, but she had on no pants, and her vest was open enough to reveal that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it.

Looking down at his feet, David said, “You’re going to sunburn if you keep your clothes off.”

She grimaced and moved to sit in the tree's shadow. “What do you mean?  No one ever told me the light would be that hot.”

David blew a frustrated sigh.  “Where are your clothes?”

“I was trying to get them.”  She pointed up into the branches of the tree, and David glanced up to see her short pants and top draped over a branch ten feet up.

David shifted uncomfortably.

“Relax,” Tri’ni said.  “I’m not running around naked on purpose.  But the clothes were wet and uncomfortable.  I can’t imagine you’re enjoying having those sopping robes on you.”

“Yeah, well.  Yeah.  So, do you need help?  Help getting your clothes down?  We’re, um.”

David shook his head to himself, then took a calming breath.  He stuck his hand into a moist pocket of his robes and pulled out the appropriate talisman, and a few moments later the wet garments were drifting down to the ground, supported by invisible force.

“So, yeah.  Just get dressed, and come over with the rest of us.  We’re planning where we’re going next.”

“David, I can’t see you. Don't run off.” She stood and peekd at the sun, then winced. “Were you serious about the sun burning me?  And how can you see in this light?”

David sighed and looked away, waiting for her to dress.  “Whenever you’re done, just give me your hand.  I’ll lead you back.  The light won’t hurt you.”

Tri'ni chuckled quietly. “I’m still reeling a bit from coming to the surface.  You know that I’m completely relying on you four, though.  I have no idea where I am, or what I can-”

Suddenly she paused, then began speaking in Taranesti for a moment.  David glanced over to see her retying the fragile necklace Lacy had placed the translating spell upon.  A moment later, Tri’ni sighed.

“I need to learn the actual language, not rely on this thing.  I love magic, of course, but I get confused when I look up, and I know that those are ‘clouds,’ even though I don’t really know what they are.”

“Are you regretting you came up here?” David asked, smirking.  “It’s not too late for Allar to go back to disliking you.”

She grinned.  “Are you crazy?  A lot of people don’t even believe the surface exists, and those that do dream getting a chance to see it.  Plus, there’s the fact that the Trillith would have tracked me down if I’d stayed below.  I like it here, even if I can’t see anything.”

She reached out uncertainly with her hand, and David took it with a smile, pulling her after him.

Soon they were gathered together near the edge of the sinkhole they had climbed out of half a day earlier.  Babb, Lacy, and Allar had stripped off their heavier clothes or armor, and they looked rather ridiculous in their underclothes.  David sat Tri’ni down in the shadow of a large rock, and then he addressed them all.

“It’s probably not worth the effort of drying your clothes.  We’re in the Stormset Mountains.”

“What’s that?” Babb asked.

David smiled, proud to have the chance to explain. “A lot of storms drive down from the north, hit these mountains, and get caught in a semi-circular mountain formation, causing it to rain all the time.  The valleys west of here are very fertile from the constant rainfall, even though they don't get much sun for most of the year. 

“Last night I took a rough read of the constellations and was able to place us at about the right latitude, and I knew we were definitely in the Otdar Range, not the Tunda. I could be a little more certain exactly where if I took some time and made a makeshift astrolabe, but we’re somewhere on the eastern border of Tennas, at least a hundred miles north of Gresia.”

Babb glanced over at Tri'ni, who had a confused expression. He laughed. “Don't worry. I don't know what he's talking about either.”

David frowned. “If we head west, it’s two hundred miles to Palesi, the capital.  We could hopefully catch a ship there, swing down to Seaquen, then back to Elstrice.  It might take us a month or two, but it will actually be faster than if we were still in Kequalak and tried to make the distance on foot. Is that simple enough for you?”

Babb grumbled. “Back to that first part. You’re saying that for the next few days, we’re going to be slogging through rainstorms?”

David nodded, smiling.

“I don’t mind so much,” Tri’ni said.  “That one last night was like nothing I had ever heard of before.  Are they common up here?”

Allar replied, “Common enough.”

Tri'ni smiled slightly to Allar. David was glad to see his friend was no longer giving the girl trouble.

“So,” Allar asked, “What are we going to do about our new fellow adventurer?  Anyone here know how Tennae feel about dark Elves?”

No one answered.

“We'll worry about that later," David said. “If nothing else, we can pass her off as Kohalesti."

Lacy said, “She should be fine. The Tennae do have a few monsters of the night, but they're all very pale from what I remember. You don't like snakes, do you?"

Tri'ni shrugged and shook her head.

“We need to find a town soon,” David said, trying to get their attention back on him. “Our supplies are low, even I want some new clothes, Allar’s going to need three different splints, and his arm needs long-term rest.  I got my chin torn open on a rock, but it only hurts when I talk. Any other noteworthy injuries?”

Lacy pointed to her arms. "I got a few splinters when the dragon tore the tree in half, but I've healed them."

Tri’ni grimaced and pulled off her gloves, revealing raised veins and purple mottling.  “Thankfully it's gotten better since the Trillith died. I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t hurt much.  It actually feels pretty good getting some light on it.”

Allar just lifted his left arm. The tooth marks from the dragon were still visible, and it would take more magical healing skill than Lacy had to repair all the damage.

Babb snorted at Allar's wound, and held up his own hand.  “Broken fingers.  Two or three ribs.  This nice semi-circular series of matching puncture marks on my chest and back.  And yeah, I also got that weird veiny thing from the dragon breathing on me.”

“You’ll live,” Lacy said, smiling.  “So, David, how far is it to the nearest town?”

David took a deep breath and began to explain. 

*	*	*

Three days later, David glanced out the second-story window of their host’s house, pondering the lonely white spire that poked out of the trees a mile away in the valley to the west.

The town of Ventnor had been slowly shifting eastward, fleeing the expanse of the haunted Ycengled Phuurst generation after generation since before modern history.  The people of Ventnor were too superstitious to cut down the trees of the old forest, rumored to be home to uneasy Elvish ghosts, so every few decades they simply abandoned their older buildings and relocated a safe distance from the dangers of the wood.

David opened the window for a clearer view, and he nodded.  The spire that survived was not white, but polished metal, ages old, and marked with the remnants of what had once been a cross surrounded by a ring of feathers.  The symbol of the Angelican Church.  

Dressed in his new, dry robes, David pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the cross beneath the fabric.  

David made up his mind, and headed to talk to Allar.

Downstairs, the elder Valheur was sharing steaming cider with Babb and Allar, the old man’s deep voice rambling on in Tennae as he told a story for his own amusement.  No one in the city spoke enough of any language David and the others could understand, but they had not been inhospitable.  A younger husband and wife pair were chatting with their five-year-old son in one corner as they beat and folded piles of blankets.  Sitting with Lacy in another corner, away from the windows, Tri’ni was making humorous faces at the five-year-old while she practiced speaking what little Lyceian she had been able to actually learn since coming to the surface.

David waved as he came down the stone stairs, and the young boy suddenly shouted and ran over to Tri’ni and Lacy.  He pointed at the ground at their feet, and before the women could react, the husband ran over and stomped on the floor.  The man’s boot heel snapped the spine of the slender serpent the boy had been pointing at.

_“Caneb om drankur,”_ the man laughed.  He shooed his son away and picked up the dead snake to dispose of it.

“I thank you,” Tri’ni replied, her accent pronounced.  She smiled at the boy.

The boy cringed and backed away.  _“Nocheb lud, dadder.  Om drankur au nocheb lud.”_

The father looked displeased, and he pulled the boy away, saying something chiding.  Lacy and Tri’ni exchanged glances of concern, but the elder Valheur looked over to them and waved a hand dismissively.  He laughed, and everyone relaxed.

David headed to the table to sit beside Allar, noticing Tri’ni tying her translating necklace back on.  David had to stand on the bench, but he was greeted by a newly-poured cup of cider.  He nodded a thanks to the man and took a sip.

“Allar, I think I know where we can find some more information about your sword.”

Tri’ni came up then.  “Dentalles’s sword?”

David nodded, somewhat nervous.  “I think there’s an old Angelican church in the woods out there.  I could perform a more accurate divination on the blade if we could clear away any impurities.  With luck the old church should have a font to generate holy water.”

Allar stared at David dubiously.  “David?”

“What?”  David drew himself up haughtily.  “Do you not want to come?”

“I’ll come,” Allar said, looking down guiltily.  “You’re right.  I do need to follow through on my promise.”

Babb bent his head near to Tri’ni.  “You understand what they’re talking about?  Maybe I could borrow that necklace of yours.”

“No clue.”

David frowned at the Geidon and the dark Elf.  “The church is probably abandoned, but I feel Allar needs to spend some time in prayer.  I know the rest of you don’t share my beliefs, but we did just barely survive our last ‘adventure.’  We should all take some time to consider how our lives have been affected by this.”

Allar shrugged and look to the others.  His tone was apologetic.  “I promised him I’d go.”

Babb shook his large horned head.  “If you feel so troubled by coming out alive, go ahead.  I can’t tell what they’re saying, but I’m pretty sure people here think those woods are cursed.”

In the corner of the room, Lacy nodded.  “They have a fence keeping people from going that direction.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Allar said.  “It’s probably just fear of Elves.  It’s an Elvish forest.  I’m part Elf.  It’s an Angelican church, and David’s family is Angelican.”

David glared at Allar.

Allar added, “And, um, so am I.”

“Can I come?” Tri’ni asked.

“No,” Allar said quickly.  “Stay here and practice your Lyceian some more.”

David smirked.  “And see if you can learn some Tennae, too.”

Tri’ni, slumped against the table unhappily, sighed meaningfully, and then sat up straight.  “Actually,” she said, “I do recognize a few words here and there.  Entras – she was with Dentalles and Cloin, and Javin – she was from around here, I think.”

“Excellent,” David said.  “You can thank our hosts for us while we’re gone.  I’m going to get my things.”

Lacy stood up and walked over, concern on her face.  “I’ll go with you, if that’s alright.  It’s not my church, but I could find something to pray about.”

David looked up at the tall woman, then over to Allar, wavering about how to reply.  Allar reached out with his hand and touched Lacy’s sleeve to get her attention.

“Lacy, honestly, you wouldn’t want to go.  We’ll make sure we’re back before sunset, if it’s monsters you’re worried about.”

Lacy frowned.  “If you really don’t want me to go, then-”

Tri’ni waved for her to sit down.  “Lacy, I would still like to practice a bit more.”

“Oh, alright then.  I guess you two should be careful, just in case.”

David nodded to her in thanks, then glanced at Tri’ni in confusion.  He thought he had seen her smirking back to him, but she looked completely uninterested now.  David started for the stairs.  “I’ll make sure to bring Allar back safely.”

“Don’t cut yourself on the sword,” Babb called, laughing.

Allar laughed back, then drew the scimitar and swung it lightly at Babb’s cider cup, intending to knock it into the Geidon’s lap.  Instead, the edge of the blade slid through the cup.

Allar stopped in surprise, lifting the sword cautiously.  The top inch of the cider mug came free from the rest, lying on the flat of the black scimitar.  The sword had cut through the cup with no resistance.

Coughing nervously, Allar tipped the sword and dropped the top of the cup on the table.  The elder Valheur man picked up the wooden ring and held it close to his eye, disapproving.

Allar shrugged sheepishly and moved to follow David.  To Tri’ni, he said, “See if you can apologize for me.  Tell him we’ll get him a new cup.”

David and Allar slipped up the stairs to their rooms, and a minute later they were out the front door, heading toward the woods to explore the old church.


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## Desdichado (Aug 6, 2004)

Yeah, they're long.  Then again, so are my story hour posts...

I'm really enjoying it so far.  I like the witty dialogue especially.  Very well done.  The only "criticism" I'd make is that the narrative is very tactical.  I have a hard time following really tactical fight scenes on paper.  Although that's fairly popular; R.A. Salvatore rights much like that as well.

Also, the D&D feel is really strong; moreso than in a lot of official game fiction, for that matter.  And it's not just the things they're doing; starting off in a dungeoncrawl, for instance, but I can really almost feel the mechanics behind it -- the HP loss behind the attacks, etc.


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## Emperor Valerian (Aug 6, 2004)

Well... IMO, 6-7 pages is about the tops for posts.  In my short storythread experience, any more than that starts to get extremely long.  Nowadays I head for 4-6.

For it being straight up fiction, I like it. My experience with writing fiction as opposed to story hours hasn't been the best, but this one feels like an authentic story hour, and I could imagine players making some of the witty comments during the midst of the chaos around them.  (I love the witty comments and the dry humor  ) Was that the intention, or just a byproduct?

All in all, I like it.  You're probably going to get me checking back on it when there are updates!


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## Jon Potter (Aug 6, 2004)

Okay, the link to your website answered my first couple of questions: those being why any race couldn't heal any other race with impunity and what was up with the magic system in general? That whole aura thing is interesting. (Does that mean that an elf could disrupt a dragon's ability to cast spells just by making flesh-to-flesh contact? That would be a pretty exploitable weakness were that the case. Of course you'd still have to deal with the all the pointy bits trying to slash and rend you into kibble - but still!)

Anywho, I agree with both JD and EV when they say that the dialog lends this story a real "story hour" feel. It all sounds like the sort of quips that are tossed around a gaming table.

And one more question that is so far unanswered: what's the deal with Babb? Is his race some sort of minotaur or satyr or what?


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## barsoomcore (Aug 8, 2004)

Right now, I'm not sure what the plot is, and so I end up skimming a little, looking for clues as to where the story is going. It kind of just feels like "adventurers wander about aimlessly" -- I'd be more engrossed if I had some idea that something was at stake for somebody. But as it is...

Allar and Babb are the strongest characters so far but I can't really picture them -- I'd like a better image of everyone, really.

But overall, it's good stuff. Keep it up.


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## haiiro (Aug 9, 2004)

RangerWickett said:
			
		

> I wonder if perhaps the first installment was too long.




It's certainly too long for me -- I like more bite-sized updates, because then I can check in when I don't have a whole lot of time to spare. I often browse EN World in the morning before work, and a smaller update means I'll have time to read it -- a longer update means I'll wait until later on, maybe forget, and maybe not read it at all.

When I first posted my SH, I went the same route that you did: nice big updates -- only in my case, they were large and infrequent. As a result, the SH never stayed on the front page long enough to spur commentary, and never gathered any readers. The few comments I got at the start mentioned the length as a negative.

When I started it up again, re-edited and with shorter posts, it did much better (and I'm having a lot more fun with it as a result).

Enough about the length, though. 

In a nutshell: you've started up a good Story Hour, and your writing really pops. I checked in when you first started it up, I took a look and was put off by the length and the initial lack of description (the latter of which came up in your feedback thread). I _think_ you've gone back in and edited the first post to include a bit more detail about the characters -- it certainly seems that way, and I sunk into it a lot easier the second time around.

In any case, the first post is now _very_ solid -- I really like the Resident Evil tones, the snappy character dialogue, and the fact that I can really visualize the action as you describe it. That last one is something I look for in fiction, and you've done a very good job of it. Nice work! 

I'll be checking back in as time permits, and it's probably worth mentioning that the "fictionalized, not just an account of the game" element doesn't bother me -- good reading is good reading.


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## RangerWickett (Aug 17, 2004)

What I would love to do is start each chapter with a map.  The tone I'm going for is mild parody of D&D gaming, with interesting characterization to make the story more character-driven than plot-driven.  A map would reinforce the D&D-ism, I think, but hopefully not too much.  Plus it'd make fun of other fantasy settings where the book starts with a world map.  Well I'd have a map in each chapter, so nyah.

I just like maps.


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## Graywolf-ELM (Aug 17, 2004)

RangerWickett said:
			
		

> For those who wanted a few questioned answered about the setting and races, I put up an overview of the world here.
> 
> I wanted to work on an update today, but most of my time was spent fixing small problems here and there, revising things, and working on the site.  Maybe I'll get in a little writing before I sleep.





Hi RangerWickett.   Out of curiosity, I visited your website.  I found the map link on your first page http://www.geocities.com/rangerwickett/Tremabig.jpg to give me some Yahoo error message.
"Sorry, the page you requested was not found."

Anyway, I'm still reading through your world.  The Story has been enjoyable to read, and I've kept it in my subscribed listing.

GW


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## RangerWickett (Sep 14, 2004)

*Episode Three: Dreams of the Dead, Section II*

Outside the hollow church doorway, the forest danced slowly with dark emerald hues, afternoon sunlight filtering through layers of translucent leaves.  The ground was clear of underbrush, just soft grass and the smooth, wide trunks of Ycengled Phuurst’s trees.  And the crumpled ruins of a village that had always feared these woods.  The forest was quiet, except for the rustle of branches high overhead.  Only snakes lived here, and they were always silent.

Then, at the base of the chapel’s hill, two figures appeared and approached, talking.  They reached the old chapel quickly, and stood before its open door for a moment.

Allar said, “The church has taken a beating.”

David said, “I’m amazed this place is still standing.  It has to be at least a thousand years old.”

Allar gestured forward.  “Let’s go inside, then.  The door’s open for us.”

David scoffed.  “The door rotted away centuries ago.”

“This place looks dead,” Allar sighed.

David smirked.  “Really?  I would’ve thought an old abandoned church would’ve been a fun, lively place.”

Allar glared at David, then sighed and laughed weakly.  “Well, is there at least something to make holy water with?”

“Yes,” David said, pointing to the pulpit, at the far end of the church.  “Over there.”

The old church was roughly cross-shaped, forty feet wide with a north and south wing just before the pulpit.  The walls had cracked or eroded away in many places, and the ceiling was all but gone.  There were no furnishings or decorations, nothing living, not even weeds.  At the axis of the church, between the two wings, a massive decayed tree lay rotting, blocking the path to the pulpit, so they had to climb over it.

Allar made it over quickly, but David had trouble.  At one point he lost his balance and fell into the damp mulch of what had used to be branches.  He caught himself with his hands, but he sank in to his elbows, and felt something solid in his hand.  Then that something squirmed and David pushed away, pulling his hands free in fear.  In the hole his hand had left in the mulch, a pale green serpent writhed for a moment, then slithered up out of the hole and fled to a different part of the tree.

David shuddered for a moment, then jumped his way to the other side of the tree, sprinting to Allar.

“There’s a snake in there,” David said, still shuddering slightly.  He rubbed his hands on his robe to wipe the mulch off, then took a deep breath.

Allar asked, “It didn’t bite you, did it?”

“No.”  David shook his head.  “It just . . . just surprised me.  Come on.  No worries.  It was just a snake, after all.”

David headed over to the pulpit, where sat a cylindrical stone basin, filled with rainwater.  It was covered in carvings, now all too worn with age to decipher.  David pulled up a talisman and dipped it into the water.  The talisman flickered briefly with light, then faded.

“This is it.  Allar, come over here.”

Allar followed, but he looked over his shoulder at the tree, nervous.

“David, did you see anything alive out in the woods?  Any birds, or even mice?”

David shook his head.  “No.  Come on, could you help me out?  This thing’s deeper than my arm, and we have to clear out all the leaves that are stuck in the bottom, or else it’ll be harder to sanctify.”

“I’m just asking,” Allar continued, “because it’s a little suspicious, right?”

“Whatever you say.  Just reach down there and scoop up any muck.”

Allar shrugged and rolled up his sleeves, then reached in.  “So we’re actually going to figure out what the sword’s magic is?  I thought this was just an excuse to talk.”

David smirked and nodded.  “We do need to talk, but I also want to learn about the sword.  You’ve been hiding things from me, and so has that sword, and I want answers from each of you.”

Allar pulled up a handful of brown muck from the bottom of the font.  He looked at David for a moment, expressionless, then tossed the muck on the floor.

“What do you want to know?”

“What happened back there, with the dragon and the ‘trillith’?  Everyone else is pretty convinced you were just being mind controlled, but-”

“You think I attacked her on purpose?”  Allar growled with disgust.

David waved a hand uncertainly.  “I know there was a time you would have been happy to fight a dark elf.”

“God dammit, David.  I-”  Allar stopped, nervous for a moment as he looked around the church.  “David, I don’t want to talk about that.  I already told you what happened back in Tundanesti.”

“Yes, and it took you a year to do it.  How can I not be worried about you now, Allar?  I was supposed to bring you back home eight years ago, and instead we’ve been running around in ancient tombs nearly getting killed.  You can’t tell me you’re doing this because you want fame and glory, because we haven’t managed anything close to that yet.”

“No, that’s not it.”  Allar weakly tossed another handful of sludge on the floor.  “It’s just, what else am I supposed to do?  By now, it’s been, what, ten years?  I don’t really have any friends back in the caravan.  I know more people in Elstrice than back home.”

David sighed.  “I do understand that a little, and if you don’t want to go back, I can’t make you.  But it’s not just that.  I guess I’m worried that I’ll never get a chance to go home if I have to stay around to keep fixing your problems.  I can’t leave you by yourself because, if this past week was any indication, you still aren’t over that time you spent with the Tundanesti.”

“Fix my problems?  Is that why you wanted to bring me out here?  Dammit, David, I’m twenty-six years old.  We’ve been friends now for almost eight years, and you still treat me like you’re on a mission to rescue me.”

“Allar, you did try to kill the dark elf girl.  I mean, goodness, normal people have a hard time coping with taxes and thieves, but somehow we’re completely fine with fighting the walking dead, unearthing some sort of evil fey, killing monsters we didn’t even know existed, and then _fighting a dragon_.  And the dragon did something to you that made you want to kill a woman a few days earlier you yourself had rescued.  I mean . . . I think I must be crazy to be out adventuring with you.  You think I might have a good reason to worry that you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, David.”  Allar tossed two more piles of muck onto the floor.  “There, the water should be clean enough.”

“You’re not fine, Allar.  Nothing’s fine right now.  I’m not blind.  You’re hiding something.  It’s obviously something that’s hurting you.”

Allar scoffed.  “Honestly, relax.  Let’s just do what we said we came here for.”

Allar drew the black scimitar, and for a moment David recoiled.  Allar frowned at David’s fright, then placed the scimitar into the basin, so that only the hilt and the last few inches of the blade were outside the water.  “I’m not going to talk about it.  Just do your magic.”

David glared at Allar.  “I’m just trying to help, and you won’t listen.  I . . . I don’t understand you.”

*	*	*​
“_Ne, chial zhu nosorres hadalis_ eyes from everyone else?”

Lacy blinked at Tri’ni.  “What?”

“Sorry.”  Tri’ni grinned sheepishly.  She had just finished tying the translation charm in the middle of her sentence.  

Tri’ni, Lacy, and Babb were the only people in Ventnor outside right now.  They stood along the dilapidated gray fence that marked the border between the small town and the Elvish forest, waiting for Allar and David to return.  Several hours had passed since they had left, and the sun would soon set.  The atmosphere in the village was anxious, and now the three of them stood alone in the fading light.

Tri’ni, covered with a draping robe to keep her from sun-burning, pointed up at Lacy’s face.  “I was trying to ask, if it’s not rude, why you have different eyes from everyone else?  There’s no crease on your eyelid.”

“Oh.”  Lacy laughed and smiled.  “My family is Xaopin.”

Tri’ni nodded slowly.  “And that means. . . ?”

Babb was grim.  “It means nobody likes her.”

Lacy laughed again, weakly.  “Damn, but I wish you weren’t right.”

“You’re not helping,” Tri’ni said.

Lacy shook her head.  “Alright, I guess I do need to explain.  Um, so, most humans are descended from a group called the Serens.  They used to have an empire here three thousand years ago.  My family, though, was mostly descended from the Xaopin.  They were one of the native cultures here before the Serens arrived.  I’ve probably got some Seren blood in me, but my face is the way all Xaopin look.”

Babb added, “And most humans think she’s funny-looking and uneducated.  But my sister is very educated.”

“Thanks,” Lacy said, bitter.

Tri’ni was still confused.  “So, are all Chowping people tall?”

Babb chuckled and grinned at Lacy.  “Funny looking.  I told you.”

Lacy ignored Babb and said, “No.  I’m just . . . very tall.”

“Well I think you’re very pretty.”  Tri’ni smiled to try to cheer up the six-and-a-half-foot tall woman.

“Thanks,” Lacy laughed.  “It’s actually a little fun being the tallest person around.”

Babb straightened with pride.  “It helps that she has me around to make her look taller.”

Tri’ni, just barely over five feet tall, looked up at the six-foot Babb.  “You are positively tiny.”

Babb snorted.

After a moment, Tri’ni asked, “So . . . you and Allar both have yellow . . . wait, blonde hair.  And everyone here has brown or black.  Allar is a Tundanesti Elf, and you’re Xaopin.  Dentalles was also Tundanesti, but he had very dark hair.”

Lacy answered, “Allar’s a half-Elf.  His dad was a human, from Kequalak, I think.”

Tri’ni squinted, confused.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a map, would you?”

Lacy shook her head, and Babb shrugged.

The air suddenly grew chill as the first sliver of the sun slipped behind the treetops, and shadows stretched across them.  

Tri’ni stood on her tiptoes, closed her eyes, and turned her cheek to catch the fading rays of sunset.  She smiled.  “You have these every day?”

“Yes,” Lacy laughed quietly.  “Don’t worry.  You won’t miss it.  They happen all the time.  In fact, this one’s pretty bland.”

Tri’ni sighed.  “It’s still beautiful.”

“Here,” Babb said, his tone serious, “it’s dangerous.”

Tri’ni lowered herself out of the sunlight and blinked.  The forest beyond the fence was dark, full of dancing emerald shadows.  Only a few spots gleamed with rays of fading sunlight, and together the three of them watched, hoping to see David and Allar return.

“Babb,” Tri’ni asked, “you’re a. . . ?”

“Geidon.”

“And your head?  That’s normal?”

Babb swiveled his huge, bull-like head to stare at her, then snorted.  He turned back to watch the woods.

“Yeah,” Babb said.  “Normal enough.”

*	*	*​
David concentrated on the black blade, mentally feeling all the blood, sweat, grime, and other less-physical presences that would interfere with the identification magic.  It was taking longer than he had expected, and the sun was setting.  There were so many conflicting magical auras on the sword, David could not imagine how old it must be, but he was almost done.  The scimitar waited, its blade immersed in the font of blessed water, quietly holding onto its secrets.

Allar sat quietly on a rock that had once been part of the church wall.  As the last light of the sun drifted into shadow, he stood and walked a path around the pulpit, tracing his fingers over long-eroded decorations that had once adorned the dead building.  David wondered what he could be so interested in, but he had to focus on the spell.  Then finally he sifted clear the last taint on the sword, and he could feel its real magic.

The church was dark, and the sun had set.

There came a rustling sound from the fallen tree, and Allar said, “David, what-?”

Then light rippled into the room, gleaming from the water’s surface in the holy font.  The rustling sound stopped suddenly, and David gasped, looking into the water.  There was an image in the water, and David furrowed his brow as he tried to decipher what he was seeing.

“Well,” he said, “the spell worked.”

“About time,” Allar replied.  He was about to say more, but as moved to beside David and looked into the water, he couldn’t force them out.

The image on the water rippled between images, showing a string of people, each holding the sword.  A woman’s face in silhouette, a sneering brown-skinned man, a dark-haired Elfwoman with her eyes closed and pained, a light-haired Elfwoman with a sundered mask in her other hand, an elderly man wearing a crown, and many more.  There was no sound, from the font or from the enthralled Jispin and half-Elf.

The image faded to black, and again there was a hiss behind them.  Allar and David spun, and the creature lunged.  It was humanoid, with pale flesh, dull white fangs, and eyes that glowed gold.  Its reaching arms shed the sleeves of its draping clothes like peeling skin, and it fell upon Allar, biting his neck.

Allar cried out and reached for the nearest weapon, pulling the scimitar from the font as if drawing it from its sheath.  As he swung, sanctified water sliced through the air, spattering David’s face.  The blade fell upon the creature’s back with a sizzle, and the beast pulled away.  It staggered to the ground on its hands and feet, and Allar slumped limply beside the font.  The scimitar clattered on the floor, and the monster spun to face David.

Screaming, David tore his talisman free from its cord as he drew it and evoked its power.  Flames burst into life across the creature’s head and back, and it wailed a nearly-human scream, then leapt away.  For a moment it clung to the high old wall of the church, and then it rolled across the top stones, trailing fire as it fled into the woods.

David dropped to kneel beside Allar, but Allar was not moving.  Blood pulsed down his chest from the wound in his neck, lit by the glow from atop the font.  Desperate, David scooped a handful of the blessed water into his hands and poured it upon the wound.  Allar’s body tensed for a moment, and his head rolled to the side, but the bleeding did not stop.  David pressed a palm to the wound to keep in the blood, then sagged upon his dying friend’s chest, terrified.

In the distance he heard the monster’s cry, and much closer, from the fallen tree, he heard soft, insistent hisses, growing closer.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM (Sep 14, 2004)

This seemed like it took very little game time, but was a good length update.  
GW


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## RangerWickett (Sep 20, 2004)

*Episode Three: Dreams of the Dead, Section III*

Still clutching his fire magic talisman, David reached into his robes and drew the light talisman.  He held it out in his right hand, keeping his left hand pressed to the wound on Allar’s throat.  His talisman filled with magic and cast light into the ancient church, revealing dozens of pale serpents slithering toward him from the remains of a giant tree that lay crashed in the center of the room.

“Get back!” David shouted, releasing his light talisman to dangle from its cord, and channeling energy again through the fire talisman.  The nearest snake burst into flame and writhed silently on the ground.  The other snakes, undeterred, continued to approach.

Allar groaned and shifted under David’s hand, and David felt warm blood again spread across his palm.  The snakes were only ten feet away now, hissing and weaving.  David scrambled to grab Allar’s black scimitar, and as one snake dashed forward he swung the blade in both hands, knocking the creature away and severing its head.  Other snakes sped toward him, and David flailed wildly at the ground, killing some, feeling others slide up his boot to his pant leg.  Swinging in a failing effort to keep the snakes at bay, David tripped over a piece of rubble and fell amid a pile of snakes.  They scattered at first, then turned and slithered back for him.

The painful flare of a bite came from David’s leg, and he felt something sliding into his hair.  Only one of his spells could deal with so many creatures at once, and though it might kill him, he was out of choices.  The blade shape of the fire talisman was filled with the ashes of a powder house in Elstrice that had exploded in a fire, and David tapped its energy now.  A ball of fire appeared in his free hand, normally intended for hurling at distant foes.  David closed his eyes and smashed his palm to the ground.

The explosion carried him into the air and seared the ground.  When he crashed back to the baked ground, he batted at his clothes and cringed at the pain of burnt flesh across his face and hands.  But then he heard the satisfying dry slaps of dozens of charred snakes falling to the ground around him.  There was no more hissing.

Ignoring the pain from the fire, David crawled back over to Allar next to the holy water font.  Allar was moving slightly, pressing a hand to the wound on his neck, though he seemed delirious.  Thankfully he had been outside the blast of the fireball.

Remembering the bite he had felt on his leg, David grimaced and drew a knife.  First he cut open his pant leg, then he cut open the flesh on his leg.  For the first time in a long while, he cursed outwardly, gritting his teeth at the pain.  Then he bent awkwardly and began to suck at the wound, spitting out the blood and hopefully the poison.

After a few moments David tied a bandage of torn cloth across the snake bite.  Allar still had enough presence of mind to keep pressure on his wound, though David could not guess how it might be affecting his thinking.  He tried to talk, but the warmth in his mouth nearly made him retch.  

He staggered over to beside the font of holy water, intending to wash out his mouth and clean his hands.  Instead, just as he was swishing a mouthful of holy water, he saw that images were again glowing from the water’s surface.  The brown-skinned man again, whom David could now see was a half-Elf, was standing with several other people in a forest grove, speaking with a small golden-scaled dragon.  The creature, as large as any of the people in the image, was cowering in apparent fear.  David wished he could hear what was going on.

He wanted to take Allar to safety, but he could never carry him alone, and he couldn’t risk leaving him, so he placed a loose bandage on Allar’s wound and waited, watching the images in the font, hour after hour.  Allar stirred and twitched, seemingly in time with some of the more disturbing images from the spell.  Though David did not know what story these images told, he was growing uncomfortable.  Every few minutes he would glance at the sword, lying on the floor a few feet away, and wonder if it was watching him.  One time when he turned to check on the sword, he saw a figure waiting nearby it.

“What are you doing?” the figure asked in Elvish.

David gasped, seeing the pale monster from before standing at the edge of the pulpit, amid the charred snakes.  It took him a moment to realize that the creature had spoken to him, in Tundanesti Elvish no less.  David did not reply, and the humanoid thing blinked its glowing eyes at him, its expression angered.

Slowly it knelt, loose white cloth draping across its frail body.  With two fingers it touched the spot where David had spat his blood.  It held up the fingers to consider the blood, then bent lower and licked the remaining blood off the floor.  David shuddered.

“Your friend is dying,” the creature whispered, as if sharing a secret.  It looked up to him, but did not stand.  “What faith brings you to the empty doors of this church?”

David said, “I wouldn’t have thought you could talk.  But I and my friend share a faith with this church, and if you threaten us or it. . . .”

He trailed off, uncertain if he could back up a threat.  Judging by how the holy water had burned the creature, it was probably undead, but David could not be sure if it was corporeal, or if it had any weaknesses.

It sighed and said, “I died in these woods many years ago, during the black moon.  No church sheltered me then.

“But now,” the creature said with a long-toothed smile, “it has brought the blessing of a feast to me.  How shall I offer thanks to your god?”

David said, “My God prefers it when the dead stay dead.  Well, usually.  Why are you haunting here?”

David glanced at the black scimitar, lying just a few feet away on the floor.  The creature’s burns from David’s spell were gone, but he hoped that perhaps the creature would fear the sword.

“I do not haunt.”  The creature sneered.  “I am cursed to have no grave, like the line of those before me.  There is nothing left to eat here, and even my attempt to pass this curse, you thwarted.”

The undead looked to Allar, and David followed his gaze.  David looked back defiantly and took a step forward, toward the sword.  “Be gone from here.”

It smiled.  “Impressive words, but powerless.  I have tasted your essence, and so you cannot harm me.”

From beside the font, Allar croaked out, “Pick up the sword, stupid.”

David hesitated, and the creature leapt forward, the flesh of its Elvish face tearing away as it spread its jaws to bite him.  David backpedaled and stumbled, but managed to dodge the creature as it tried to grab for him.  He pulled out his dagger and stabbed at it, but his blade felt like it was striking unyielding stone.  Hissing, the blood-drinker grabbed David and tried to lift him to its face.  David reached out and grabbed the only sturdy object, the font, and as he was lifted the font tipped sideways and spilled.  The light from its surface vanished suddenly, but as the water splashed across the creature it sizzled.  The undead shrieked and dropped David, then backed away.  The skin along its legs was melted as if by intense heat, pale flesh turned black.

David held out his fire talisman and called forth a bolt of fire.  The blood-drinker completely ignored him as it shook its legs to kick off the burning water.  The bolt of fire struck the creature and dissipated with no effect.

David blanched, then in Jispin muttered, “You weren’t bluffing, were you?”

As the firelight faded, the room dropped back into darkness.  Hoping the puddle of holy water would keep the creature at bay, David held up his light talisman and called upon its power.  The church filled with illumination again, and the creature cringed, covering its eyes.  Then it growled and started to approach again.  David backed up, but held his talisman higher and channeled some of his last remaining energy into it.  The light flared brilliantly and the creature actually backpedaled for a moment, stopping beside the fallen tree.

It snarled and crouched, baring its teeth.  Its voice a hiss, it said, “I must remember you have no power over me.”

“Get out of this church!” David shouted.

In sheer frustration, he hurled his fire talisman at the monster.  The talisman missed, but cracked open on the ground beside the tree.  Flames burst forth in a wide gout, and the tree caught fire.  The creature started to approach again, but then it fell back and cried out, shaking its arm, the loose skin of which had caught fire.

David realized that though his magic might not harm the creature, mundane fires from the burning tree would.  He ran to the tree and pulled out a branch that practically crumbled apart in his hand, but he tossed it at the blood-drinker, and the creature backed away.

“Your fire will die,” it hissed at him.  “I shall return.”

David grabbed up the scimitar and used it to toss burning bits of the tree at the creature, and it retreated slowly out the main door to the church.  After a few moments it was gone, and the shattered fire talisman still flared, keeping the dead tree alight.  The flames glinted off something in the corner of David’s eye, and he glanced up to see the tall church spire reflecting firelight.  Whispering a momentary prayer, he turned back to the font and began to wrack his mind for ways to keep the creature at bay.

When he reached Allar, who lay semi-conscious and groaning, David looked down and saw carefully padded flasks of oil on his friend’s belt.

“Don’t worry,” he said.  “I’ll get us out of this.”

*	*	*​
She dreamed of her first sunrise, the light rising up over the end of this flat world, a brilliant fire that was first beautiful, then so painful to look upon that even those here turned away.  And she dreamed of the storm that had greeted her in those first moments in this new homeland, overflowing with power, roaring with a thing she knew was called “thunder.”

And, uneasily, she dreamed of a shadow following her, half a day behind, first arriving in this world in the painful light of day.  Its heart was fallow, and it was pursuing her.  A shadow she had tried to leave in the darkness below.  A seeking shadow that had been given body.

Tri’ni awoke on her side, her breath caught in her throat.  She breathed in and opened her eyes, but did not see the expected darkness of this old family house.  She was not wearing her necklace, so she did not know the words to describe what she saw beyond the window, but there was fire at night, far in the distance.

She rolled out of bed and grabbed the necklace, then shouted to Lacy, sleeping in the adjacent bed.  Entreating her in Taranesti to wake up, she shook the woman with one hand and put on the necklace with the other.  Lacy sat up quickly, glaring at Tri’ni for waking her and muttering something about not being touched, but Tri’ni pointed toward the window.

“Look out there,” she said.  “It’s fire, in the trees.”

Lacy frowned for a moment, then gasped.  “Allar.”

Lacy got out of her bed and quickly began to change into her armor.  To Tri’ni she said, “Go wake Babb, and see if you can get any help from the others in the house.”

Tri’ni nodded and ran out into the hallway.  She pounded on Babb’s door and shouted, “Wake up,” then ran for the stairs to the common room.  She was about to head for the parent’s bedroom when she noticed the elder Valheur sitting by a window, staring out, holding two pieces of a cup in his hand.  In her Elvish sight, his figure was dim and old against the dead wood walls.

The racket upstairs of Babb waking up caused the man to turn and see Tri’ni.  He said something to her in Tennae, and she shrugged.  He sighed, pointed at her, then pointed out the window, then gestured as if he were striking something.  Tri’ni could only smile weakly and half-nod, half-shrug.

“Why does no one speak Taranesti?” Tri’ni sighed to herself.  Then she paused and touched the necklace.

She untied it quickly and held it out to the old man.  He frowned at her, but she smiled as genuinely as she could and walked over to him.  He tensed as she reached around his neck to tie it, but as she backed away he patted her lightly on the shoulder.  Tri’ni wondered if he thought she was asking for a hug.  She chuckled despite the urgency.

She said the only sentence she was sure she knew of Lyceian.  “I thank you.”

The man squinted, then scratched his ear and said something.  Tri’ni knew it was Lyceian, but of course had no idea what the man was saying.  But she smiled anyway and shouted up to Lacy and Babb.

The Elder Valheur tapped her on the shoulder and said something.  She turned and saw him holding the necklace between his fingers, shaking his head disapprovingly.  She made a saddened face to the man, and cocked her head toward the stairs, then smiled hopefully, doing her best to convince the magic-fearing man to trust her for just a moment.  The old man groaned and snorted, then nodded in defeat.

Soon Lacy arrived, then Babb, and then for the next few minutes Tri’ni just sat back and smiled to herself as she listened to the urgent conversation, not understanding a word.  Then they were done, and the old man nearly tore off the necklace to toss it back to Tri’ni.  She hadn’t even finished tying it back on when Babb pushed a sharpened piece of what she knew was called “wood” into her hands, and they were out of the house, heading for the fire in the night.


----------



## RangerWickett (Sep 22, 2004)

*Episode Three: Dreams of the Dead, Section IV*

The church murmured with blistering winds, and the forest outside rustled and crackled, its leaves and branches ablaze.  David sat next to his unconscious companion in a cold shadow cast by the old stone walls, but embers floated around him on the winds, glowing.  Despite the forest’s seeming lush life in the day, by twilight the trees had been eager to catch fire.  Now the entire church was surrounded with flames.

David waited, clutching the black scimitar and his dormant light talisman together.  Around his neck he wore another of his talismans, a piece of wood that a friend from home had carved to resemble a dog’s head.  It concealed the scent of blood, but it couldn’t keep out the ash and smoke.

Allar coughed and groaned.  David wheeled to look at his friend, and opened his mouth to talk, but Allar’s eyes were already open, and he was staring at David intently.  David waited for him to talk, then waited a bit longer as Allar looked around with his eyes, staying motionless on the ground.

Finally, Allar said, “I pass out in a church, and you somehow get us both sent to hell.  Good job.”

David glared at him.

Allar slowly sat up, then touched his neck.  The bandage David had applied was stained with dried blood, and the red had colored the cloth around his entire neck.  Allar poked at it for a few moments, wincing in pain.  He shrugged and looked out the windows to the flaming trees, then back to David.

He asked, “What happened?”

“An undead creature attacked.  It bit you, had some snakes attack me, then ran when I tried to set it on fire.  Are you alright?”

Allar shook his head.  “I must’ve been dreaming.  I couldn’t wake up.  I just kept watching all these terrible things, and that sword was always there.”

David considered the sword, and asked, “Do you remember seeing the man with the scimitar attacking a dark Elf woman?”

Allar’s eyes widened.  “Yes.  How did you know that?”

“After the thing bit you, I poured some of the water from the font onto the wound.  I thought the bite might have been diseased, but if I understood the monster right, it actually kept it from turning you into one too.”

“Thanks,” Allar said dryly.

Outside, one of the trees cracked, and there was the sound of a large branch falling to the ground.  David jumped in surprise, then sighed and shook his head.

“Jumpy,” Allar said.  “I can imagine why you would be.  Are we trapped here?”

David nodded, nervously watching the doors, windows, and the tops of the walls.  He had magically lifted the remains of his fire talisman into the branches of the nearest tree outside, and smashed the flask of oil to speed the burning.  The creature had seemed very afraid of fire, and the church was entirely surrounded by flames, but there was very little underbrush to burn on the ground, and David was afraid of letting his guard down.

“What I saw in the spell was strange,” David said.  “And you’d groan during some of the more unpleasant moments.  Maybe it mingled the water with your blood, but I can’t be sure.”

Allar sighed in relief.  “Good.  I was worried that I had dreamed that on my own.  Pretty nightmarish, actually, what with him and his mother.”

“Which one was his mother?” David asked.

“What do you mean?” Allar asked, and then he said, “Oh.  I forgot we couldn’t hear anything from the spell.  In the vision it was just . . . very vivid.  I was there, and I could hear, and feel, and smell everything.  The brown-skinned man – the one with the scimitar – his mother was the dark Elf woman he ended up . . . killing.”

Allar started to say something else, then shook his head.  “Blech.  Here, give me the sword.”

David handed it over and asked, “Anything else?”

“Well, I woke up just a little after that point, but it looked like the spell wasn’t done with.”

David pointed to the toppled and cracked font.  “I knocked it over, and the holy water burned the creature.  It must have ended the spell.”

Allar shrugged.  “Well, I certainly don’t mind.  If you’d heard what was really going on, it was much more frightening.  Are you sure what the spell showed was what really happened?”

David nodded absently, lost in thought.  “Allar, do you know anything about the sword?  Anything important?”

Allar shook his head quickly.  “You wouldn’t want to know.  It’s not anything important.”

“Allar.”

“No.”  He shook his head again, then coughed lightly as a billow of smoke passed over them.  “Trust me.  It’s not . . . dangerous.  Look, you were already saying you were uncertain about whether you want to be out and treasure hunting.  If ghouls and dragons and that undead thing that attacked me were worrying you, this is just something you don’t want to hear.”

David stood up and crossed his arms.  “I’m tired of you being so evasive, Allar.  It took you over a year to finally admit what you did back in Tundanesti, and you won’t tell me what happened with the Trillith.  And now this sword.  I want to help you, Allar, but you won’t tell me anything..”

Allar sheathed the scimitar and sighed.  “I know you do, but you’re wrong.  I’m fine.  I’m not the same confused kid I was when you found me in Tundanesti.  I can handle myself now, honestly.  I made one horrible mistake, and I made a worse mistake of trying to ignore it.  It might seem like I nearly did the same thing again with the girl, Tri’ni, but . . . David, it was the monster thing.  I was being controlled.  I was a little disturbed at the time, and I was afraid I was the one doing it, but I’m fine now.  I know it was just, you know, just the creature, controlling me.  

“You don’t have to take care of me.  Except of course when I get attacked by monsters.  Then the help is appreciated.”

“You’re not being straight with me,” David said.  “While I’m happy that you’re not glaring at Tri’ni whenever she says anything, I don’t know why you had the sudden change of heart.  Even if you’re telling the truth about the Trillith, you still haven’t answered my question.  What actually happened down in the cave?”

“Alright-” Allar started to say, but there was a loud hiss from the darkest corner of the church, and both of them fell silent.

It had come from twenty feet away in the area that still had a ceiling, below the steeple.  There were no windows, no light from the fire.  David held up the light talisman, and as light came forth, the pale flesh of a serpent twice as long as a man appeared amid the dark stones of the church floor.  Its head turned to face them, and its skin began to slough off, peeling away, revealing arms and a torso beneath.

“Sh*t,” Allar said, drawing the scimitar.  “Is that it?”

Allar tried to stand but sagged, and David grabbed his his hand.  “Stop.  I didn’t get a chance to mention this, but you see, we can’t hurt it.”

The creature’s body was free from the snake form, and it was tearing the flesh off its face to reveal its Elven visage.  Allar stood up, hesitated, then said, “Alright.  Explain.”

“It drank our blood.  We can’t harm it.  I tried.  Several times.  Normal fire scares it away, but my spells are pretty useless.”

Allar’s shoulders slumped and he looked down at David.  “See, that’s the sort of thing you should have told me right away.  This is why you shouldn’t be adventuring.”

The creature was beginning to stand.

Allar gestured toward it with his scimitar.  “How’d that thing get in here, anyway?  It’s a stupid inferno outside.  Did it walk through the wall or something?”

David backed away from the undead creature, toward the smoldering remains of the tree that had fallen into the church.  “Who cares?  Let’s go.”

Allar sighed with frustration and started to back away with David.  The creature hissed in their general direction again, and Allar readied his sword, his grip weak.  The creature didn’t approach, and in fact turned its head as if searching the room.  Its eyes, once glowing, were faint and dim.

“It can’t see us,” Allar whispered.

David stopped, knowing he was missing some clue, but unsure what.  The creature sniffed the air, looking confused, and David understood.  He lightly held the dog’s head charm around his neck and prayed it would keep working, hiding their scent.

The creature spoke, its tone casual.  “Where are you hiding, friends?  Burning down more of the forest, perhaps?  My ancestors used to live here, you know.  Lived here, died here, were chained to trees here and left to rot.  Who’s the fire waking up, I wonder.”

It hissed again, then sneered.  “Magic, trickery.  I should have expected as much from a Jispin.”

David and Allar exchanged glances and shrugged.  David tapped his nose and gave Allar a questioning stare.  Allar’s reply was only a confusion expression, and David waved him off.  

He tucked the light talisman away inside his robes and reached for his movement talisman.  The small box rattled slightly, filled with broken bits of clay beads.  He directed energy into it, though he could feel his control weak and unsteady from exhaustion.  The broken pieces of the stone font lifted into the air and began to hover toward where the undead creature was crouched.  Concentrating closely, he lifted the stones just a bit higher and positioned them directly over the undead, then released the spell.

The font should have struck the creature and snapped bones, but the blood-drinker leapt forward as the stones crashed where it had been.  It hissed and smiled, then charged for David, reaching out with its claws.  Allar stepped into its path and slashed the scimitar, but whether his strike was simply too weak from blood loss, or the creature was truly invincible to him, the sword glanced off the monster’s Elvish face.

“You’re supposed to be blind!” David shouted in dismay.

He leapt to the side, trying to dodge, but the creature grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to the ground.  It pressed its weight upon him and leaned low.  Into his ear it whispered, “I’m still an Elf, fool.”

“It can see magic!” David cried to Allar, just before the creature raked its fingers across his chin, cutting the flesh.

“Drop the sword!” David shouted.  “Just run.”

The creature opened its mouth to rip out David’s throat, but Allar dashed in and slashed the scimitar down across the creature’s back.  The strike caused no injury, but it surprised the creature.  The blood-drinker stood up, holding David at arm’s length in one hand.  Allar swung again at the creature’s face, dragging the diamond-edged blade across cheek and jaw, again with no effect.

The blood-drinker started to reach for Allar, then glanced down at the sword.  It blinked its golden eyes in awe.  “The royal blade of Tundanesti.  But you are half-human!”

Allar backed away, and David hung in the creature’s grasp.  It relaxed its grip as if to drop David, then shook its head.

“No.  In my life, I would have killed you for that theft, but I lost that life thirty years ago.  Keep your treasure, for what little life remains to you.”

It grabbed David in both hands and lifted him to its mouth.  Its fangs sank into David’s neck, and he screamed in pain, clenching the movement talisman so tightly his palm bled.  High overhead, stones cracked, debris fell, and firelight gleamed off of a polished metal spire.  Engrossed in feeding off of David, the monster did not look up, did not hear the steeple as it was magically torn from the place it had held for three thousand years.

The thirty-foot long shaft of metal smashed through what remained of the roof, hurtled downward, and drove into the undead blood-drinker’s body, impaling it in the center of its back and piercing outward from its belly.  The creature spasmed and pulled back, its fangs tearing free from David.  The Jispin fell to the church floor, right beside where the massive spire had pierced the ground and cracked stone.

The mortally-wounded undying creature began to scream, flailing, trying to pull itself free.  Allar came up next to David and helped him stand, and the two backed away from the agonized wails of the blood-drinker.  Its own blackened blood oozed down the tip of the spire.

“Holy sh*t!” came a shout from Babb, at the entrance to the church.

David looked back and saw Lacy, Babb, and Tri’ni standing in the church doorway, covered in soot and coughing.  David waved to them weakly, and nearly fell to the ground, but an equally-weak Allar managed to hold him up.

“Are there any more?” Lacy called as she ran over to them.  She was holding a sharpened wooden stake, two-feet long, as were the other two.

David shook his head, and they all gathered together ten feet from the wailing undead.

“We saw your signal,” Tri’ni said, trying to smile but failing because of the screams.  Trying to sound casual, she said, “This must be a _nocheb lud_.  It can’t get out, can it?”

Babb smiled and patted his stake with care.  “Time to kill the monster.”  

Tri’ni nodded weakly.  “It _is_ a monster, right?”

Allar looked to the creature and sighed.  “No.  No monster.  It talks.  It’s just a poor cursed man, whose suffering should end.”

Babb shrugged.  “Whatever you say.”

He walked over beside the creature, and looked down to the giant metal spire.  He laughed.  “A _metal_ stake?  Old man Valheur told us, you have to use wood on these things.  And it’s supposed to go in the heart, not the spleen.”

Babb thrust the wooden stake into the creature’s chest, then pounded it with a mailed fist.  Bone cracked, and the creature’s screams stopped.

Babb shook his head.  “Honestly, you were doing it all wrong.”

Embers began to crackle up from the creature’s skin, and flesh melted away into ash and fire.  In the span of a few breaths, it was gone.  The metal spire creaked and folded to the ground.

Lacy took a long breath, then asked, “Are you two alright?”

“We’ll live,” David said.  “Or at least I hope so.  It might be safest if we could get some holy water on my wound.  Unfortunately, I think I broke our font.”

Babb shrugged.  “There’s a church back in town.  If you’d checked before you’d left, you could’ve saved yourself a trip, and you might not have a hole in your neck.”

David smirked, then stepped away and kneeled.  Allar patted him on the shoulder and walked back to the others.

Allar said, “Give him a moment to pray.  We were blessed to have made it out of this alive.”

David almost spoke up, but he held his tongue and tried to be as discreet as possible as he scooped a few bits of ash from the _nocheb lud_ into a glass vial, for use in making a talisman later.  Then he held up a hand, and let Tri’ni help him to his feet.

Allar was talking with Babb and Lacy, and Tri’ni leaned over to quietly ask David, “Did you find what you came here for?”

David shook his head.  “Allar knows something about the sword, but he won’t tell me everything.”

Tri’ni grinned.  “Not that.  What you really came here for.”

David looked at her, confused.  “Do you mean God?”

Tri’ni hummed happily with surprise.  Then she chuckled and shook her head.  “Nevermind.”

She stood up and helped David walk over to the rest of the group.  Loud enough for all the group to hear, she asked, “Aside from the monster, was it a good trip?”

Allar laughed, then wheezed.  “I was telling Lacy and Babb here that I missed most of it.  I just had one long, bad dream.”

Babb stuck a thumb out toward the church door, and the fire beyond it.  “I’m not going back out there until that stops, so let’s just get comfortable, and David can tell us what happened.”

Everyone turned to David.  David started to explain, then sagged to the ground and passed out.

*	*	*​
Two days later, on the road, David was at the back of the group when he saw Allar slowing down, letting the others pass.  When he and his old friend were walking stride in stride, David looked up expectantly.  “Something on your mind?”

“A lot, actually,” Allar said.  “Tri’ni’s been asking Lacy and me to tell her all the names of all the monsters we know, in case she has to warn us of something.  She also keeps asking me to tell her again how you managed to stab the _nocheb lud_.  Don’t be surprised if she asks you for magic lessons.”

“That’s not all you wanted to talk about,” David said.

Allar smiled.  “No, but I don’t like telling you everything that’s on my mind.”

They walked for a few moments without saying anything, watching the wheat fields on both sides of the road sway.  Ahead of them, Babb was telling Tri’ni a story, swinging his sheathed bastard sword as a prop.

“Look,” Allar said.  “I was about to tell you in the church.  The thing, the . . . Trillith.  It was talking to me, making me remember things, trying to make me want to take revenge.  At first, yes, it really did convince me that I still wanted revenge on the Taranesti.  I forgot when it was, and started thinking like I was eighteen again.”

David saw the guilt on Allar’s face, and said, “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to admit it, for your own sake.  You remember how my mother always said you can’t heal if you don’t admit that you’re hurt?  I just thought-”

“David,” Allar interrupted, “there’s more.”

David waited.  He saw Allar’s eyes move to look ahead at Tri’ni, and Allar took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“I always told you that the reason I took so long to let you know about me killing the dark Elf in Tundanesti was because I was too ashamed.  I said I had been terrified of what I’d done.  Even I convinced myself of that.  But, the thing is, the Trillith was making me relive all these memories, pulling up everything I’d even had to do with Taranesti.  And it showed me what I did to that man.  And it made me remember that I enjoyed it, and that I was happy and proud of what I’d done.”

David felt bile in his throat.  “Allar, are you serious.  You, you actually. . . ?”

“Of course I could never tell you.”  Allar’s expression was pained.  “I couldn’t even let myself remember.  And I know it has to sicken you to hear me say it, but that’s what really happened.  You told me you wanted the truth, and you’re my friend.  I owed it to you to be honest.”

David laughed weakly.  “I guess I can’t say I didn’t ask for it.  I still don’t understand you, but I imagine I couldn’t unless something like that happened to me.”

Allar was nervous as he asked, “Can you still accept me as a friend?”

David scoffed.  “The Lord forgives, and my standards of decency aren’t as high as His.  I think I can manage to get along with you somehow.  Though, to be honest, I still want you to give up adventuring.  I guess that won’t happen, though.”

“We’ll see,” Allar said.

There was a slow pause, and then David whistled.  “Wow.  That was a pretty big surprise.  And you’re telling me the secret of the sword is worse?”

“Oh, the sword?”  Allar shook his head.  “No.  Nothing as bad as that.  The sword just devours souls.”

Allar smiled to David, patted a hand on the sheath that held the black scimitar, then quickened his pace to the front of the group.  For the second time in a short while, David cursed outwardly.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM (Sep 22, 2004)

You might think I'm a horrible person, but the sword only devours souls, and I'm getting better.

Nice touch.  Did your players go this in-depth into character interaction for this?

GW


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## RangerWickett (Oct 26, 2004)

*Episode Four: My Hero, Section I*

“This was in my, let’s say, ‘less reputable’ days,” Babb said.

He soaked up Tri’ni’s grin.  He’d been entertaining her with stories of his exploits for the past week, ever since they’d reached the surface.  Now Babb was thankful that they were almost to Palesi, because he was running low on stories.  A big city like Palesi ought to keep the dark Elf girl occupied until Babb could brew up some new trouble.

Babb patted the sword at his hip.  “This sword has kept me safe for three years now, but I actually used to use a big two-handed thing.  I called it Bonecutter.”

Babb chuckled, and Tri’ni laughed too.

“I called it ‘Stonecutter,’” Lacy interrupted, “because most of the time he’d miss and hit rocks.”

“Thanks, Lace,” Babb growled. “Anyway, I was with a group of Herethim mercenaries.  You know Herethim?  They’re big, brutish, tusked guys?  Well, anyway, I decided to go out on my own one night while everybody else made camp.  We were up in these wooded mountains, and I’d been getting impatient that we hadn’t fought anyone.  You following me?”

He didn’t wait for Tri’ni to answer.

“So, like I said, I’m up in the woods, at night, and I see a campfire, so I come in close and sneak up on the guy.  He’s in a horrible spot to camp.  There are hills on two sides of him, trees all around.  I mean, anybody could’ve snuck up on this guy.”

David whispered snidely, “Even Babb, apparently.”

“So,” Babb said, “I hide in the trees until I get to his backside.  He’s polishing his sword, just sitting on a tree stump, whistling.  I mean, I’m not the quietest guy in the world, but I was being pretty sneaky, and I come up behind him, planning to hit him on the back of the head.  But then-”

“Why?”

Babb looked down at Tri’ni.  “What?”

“Why did you want to attack him?”

Babb shrugged, embarrassed.  “I told you.  I was young.  I wasn’t really thinking.”

Lacy added, “He was fifteen, at the time.  And about five feet tall.  That’s going to be key here in a second.”

Babb snorted derisively.  “Yeah Lace, and you were eighteen and six-foot-five.  Let’s leave height out of this.”

Babb’s older, taller adopted sister faked a pained expression.  “Oh, but it’s not as funny if we do.”

From the back of the group, Babb heard Allar quietly say, “I think you look especially graceful being so tall, Lacy.”  Babb glared at Allar, then returned to his story.

“Anyway, Trin, I raise my sword to club the guy, and I realize he’s seen me in the reflection on the flat of his sword.  He spins around and swings at me, and I barely manage to dodge it-”

“He missed,” Lacy said, “because he saw a Geidon and thought you were going to be seven feet tall.  He was trying to cut off your head, and just swung over it.”

“-so I dodge it, and I’m completely surprised, thinking he’s going to kill me when all I wanted was a little fun, so I ram the guy, and knock him into the fire.  He falls on his ass and tries to put out the flames, and I grab his sword to make sure he can’t hit me.”

Tri’ni looked like she was repressing a giggle, and Babb grinned.

“But he doesn’t stop there,” Babb said.  “He rolls and puts out the flames like it’s nothing, and then, here’s the crazy thing, he grabs a handful of coals and throws them at me.  Just grabs ‘em in his bare hand and chucks ‘em.  The ash and sparks get me in the eye, and I swing at him wildly for a few seconds before I realize he’s run off.”

“Actually,” Lacy said with a triumphant smile, “I remember you telling me that you tripped over a log as you were trying to run away, and that he started shooting arrows at you and shouting for you to bring his sword back.”

Babb crossed his arms.  “Well that happened too.  I was getting to that.  You see, um, Trin, so, what had happened was-”

Babb felt Tri’ni put a hand on his arm, and he stopped.  The young dark Elf woman shook her head.

“It’s alright, Babb.  I’m sure you kept your own in the fight.  What were you trying to get at, though?”

“Oh,” Babb said.  “Well, I was basically just explaining where I got this sword from.  I managed to outrun the guy, and I must have lost him.  I mean, I feel bad now, but hey, it’s a really good sword.  And I make sure to always keep it polished.”

Babb drew his sword, its silvery blade flashing in the sunlight.  He held it up for the others to admire, but he did a doubletake, looking at a reflection in the flat of the blade.

“Behind us,” Babb snarled, spinning.

If it had been someone aggressive, the rest of the group might have died if Babb had not been there defending them.  But in truth, when he faced the reflection in his blade, he saw only a medium-framed man, fully cloaked, a hood casting a shadow across his face.  He appeared unarmed.

“Oh.”  Babb wanted the man to know his disappointment.  “Not a monster.  Not my business then.”

Babb was about to turn away and let the others deal with the stranger, but the man pulled back his hood, catching Babb’s eye.

His face was sleek and reptilian, dim gray-green scales ridging his jaw and eyebrows.  Gold and black mingled in wide eyes that swept across the group, barely even lingering on Babb.  Everyone else was watching the man nervously, and Babb waved slightly to him, his sword swinging almost casually.  The stranger was unlike anything he’d ever heard of.

Lacy was the first to speak, her tone friendly.  “Can we help you?”

The scaled man looked hard at Lacy, and Babb thought he saw pain cross his sister’s face for a moment.

“I am Seekan,” the man said, lingering on his own name.

Babb frowned at Seekan, but he saw that his sister looked fine now.

“Lacy,” Babb asked, “do I kill him?”

Lacy shook her head.  “Not yet, Babb.”

Babb shrugged and turned away, resheathing his sword and continuing his story.  “So, that’s probably the most _expensive_ thing I’ve ever stolen, but my favorite was the porcelain piggy.  That’s a funny story.”


----------



## RangerWickett (Oct 27, 2004)

*Episode Four: My Hero, Section II*

“You understand anything she’s saying?” Babb asked.

Beside him, the lizard-skinned Seekan gave a restrained shake of his head.  Babb expected as much.

Babb was unhappy with his lack of role in this endeavor.  Seekan, pleased to find someone who spoke Lyceian, had proposed a job for them, saying he needed explorers.  David, Allar, and Tri’ni were away purchasing the water-breathing magic they would need to retrieve the gem Seekan was interested in, and Lacy was using a new translation charm to find them a ship.  And Babb was stuck with his sister, who currently was not able to talk to them in Lyceian, and Seekan, who was too business-like to make conversation.

“You hire adventurers often?”

Seekan shook his head, again with restraint.

Babb sighed.  They were at the city’s port, full of high cliffs overlooking the actual harbor.  Most of the buildings looked to be storehouses or homes, very different from the lush entertainments of the port of Lyceum.  Even if Babb could speak the language, he doubted there would be any trouble worth getting into.

Lacy turned away from her conversation to look at them, and took off the necklace – woven from her hair and that of a guard at the city gate.  She smiled eagerly.

“Throlt here has given me directions to someone who operates a ship in the area we want to go.  Babb, you’ll never guess, but it’s a temple of Vanessi.”

“Really.  Huh.”  Babb leaned back in surprise, then nudged Seekan.  “My sister is a priest of Vanessi.  We grew up in a temple.  Nice coincidence, huh.”

Seekan took half a step away, out of Babb’s nudging reach.  “I am unfamiliar with the god.”

“You’re from Lyceum, right?”

“Not originally.”

Babb shrugged.  “I’ll let Lacy tell you the details later.  So, Lace, where to now?”

“Throlt said the temple is a little further north, between Firaelgu Cemetery and Vulfhant Garden.  This way.”

They walked to the temple, the sound of deep bass drums pounding out occasionally further inland.  Babb was certain it had to be nearing night, but the sun had been hovering above the north-western horizon for at least an hour.  He yawned

*	*	*​
“And so thankfully Lacy’s good with healing, or else I’d have much worse than just a scar.  Damn do I hate acid.”

To Babb’s eye, Seekan was completely disinterested in his talk of old adventures, and it was beginning to frustrate him.  He had been just too quiet since he showed up.  With the translation charm, Lacy at least was able to talk to the locals and step into interesting shops along the way.  He wondered if maybe the strange lizard-man would be more open about himself.

“So you’re a wizard, right?”

Seekan looked Babb in the eyes, then shrugged.  “I have a few powers.  I know many much stronger than I.”

“Look, don’t doubt yourself.  I mean, every Nicholas Dragonsbane had to start small, I suppose.  And you’ve got the whole ‘mystery’ thing down.  Okay, the hood and robe is pretty stupid, but your face is nice and scary.  It’s unique, you know?”

For a moment, Seekan smiled.  “You don’t think I’m human, I hope.”

“I don’t really think much about that sort of stuff.  David’d probably be interested in where you’re from more, really.  I’m just curious what you can do.”

Seekan smirked with restraint.  “Remain curious.”

Babb laughed.  “Fine.  If you want to keep up the mysterious pussy little wizard face, go ahead.”

He groaned and moved beside Lacy.  They were skirting the tall iron fence of a graveyard now, but it was still bright, though the sun had set.

“Is this the place?”

Lacy looked down at him, then held up a hand for him to wait.  She removed the translation charm.  “Sorry, what?  Oh, hold on a moment.  I think we’re here.”

The road led up a hill to the temple of Vanessi, a wood and granite building flanked by two curving lines of flowering trees.  Babb recognized the symbol of Vanessi’s clergy set in the stone above the temple’s entrance – a living tree facing upward, a dying tree facing downward, their trunks twined together in the center.  Iron-wrought lanterns hung from the walls above windows on the second and third floors, but the entrance at the first floor was unlit.  

“Not quite the same as home, is it?” Lacy said.

When they reached the entrance, the door opened and a short woman barely dressed in draping robes bowed to greet them.  Babb’s eyes followed her chest as the dip revealed her smooth body.  Her hair was braided up and held with a silver and gold pin, her lips glistened with the hint of a magical illusion, and her face was painted slightly red to make her look flush.  A pendant with the symbol of Vanessi hung low between her breasts.

“No, not like home at all, really.”  Babb whispered up to his sister, “Why couldn’t we have grown up at this temple?”

The woman shifted to lean against the wall, and spoke with a low, accented voice.  “From Nozama, you’re?  Well come to the Generous Temple of Vanessi.  My name is a Therva.  Well come.”

After Therva finished her greeting, she hesitated, as if she were finally noticing who the visitors were.  She nodded weakly to Babb and Seekan, then craned her head to look at Lacy.  She opened her mouth in surprise, then smiled.

“Priestess,” Therva nodded to the symbol of Vanessi Lacy wore as a pendant, then bowed slightly.  “You do have come to visit?  You are dress in strange clothes.”

As she rose from her bow, Therva adjusted her dress to remain decent.  Babb glanced from her to his sister, six and a half feet tall and clothed in brown leather armor studded with metal and stained with spots of her own blood.  Then he glanced at Seekan; the man seemed oblivious to Therva’s sexual posturing, which only reaffirmed Babb’s distrust of him.

Lacy put the translation charm on again, and Babb tuned out the conversation.  Soon the voluptuous priestess was inviting them in, and other priests brought out maps of the nearby coast and islands.  Male and female priests alike were dressed suggestively, and while Lacy negotiated their trip, Babb waited and watched the women.  Occasionally visitors would arrive, speak with a priest or priestess at the door, and then pay to receive a spell that turned them invisible.  Later they would depart, visible again, seeming quite pleased.

“What the hell kind of business are they running here?” Babb said, to himself mostly.

Seekan lowered his head and put fingers to his temple like he was in pain.  “It is a summer festival that the temple hosts to entertain visitors and receive donations.  The invisibility magic ensures confidentiality when the visitors are having sex.”

Babb did a double take.  “Holy .  What the hell is wrong with this temple?  I mean, Lacy never had to do that for the temple back home.”

Sighing, Babb looked back at Therva, busy talking with his sister.  “I bet she’s sad she’s missing all the fun.  Hell, I’m sad I’m missing the fun.”

Suddenly Lacy and Therva laughed, and Lacy looked down, blushing.  Babb grumbled and looked away.  A few minutes passed, Babb stewing over the situation.  Then he frowned and looked at Seekan.

“Wait, mystery mage.  I thought you said you weren’t familiar with Vanessi.  How did you know all that?”

The scaled mage might have winced; Babb couldn’t be certain.  But then he stared into Babb’s eyes and said, “Remain curious.”

Babb walked away in frustration, suddenly uncomfortable in his old, rather smelly armor.  He stood by a wall for a few minutes, biting his lip, but finally he opened his pouch and pulled out his coin purse.  After all, he respected the goddess.  He should make an offering.

*	*	*​
The robe fit oddly, but was much more comfortable than the armor he had been wearing for the past few weeks.  His mind kept wandering back to that, and to how entertaining being invisible in a soapy bath had been.

“Babb, pay attention, please?”  Lacy sighed with a nervous smile.  She had not asked what he had gone and vanished off to do, but Babb was certain the guessing was killing her.

“Sorry, sis.  Go on.”  Babb yawned.

He didn’t worry that the details might not be interesting.  He did not particularly feel like moving much right now.  Listening to his sister would be a welcome rest.

Lacy pointed to the map, tracing a line from Palesi on the northern shore of Tennas, along the Stormchaser Coast to a small island.  “Alright, this is about thirty miles.  We’re two days from the solstice, and the priests always visit the island to perform the Tempest Ceremony.  It’s a ritual to keep the sky clear on the solstice, when here in Palesi the sun will be up all day.  From what I understand it’s similar to the Chuwian Frost Ritual from back home.”

“I like their rituals more than ours,” Babb laughed.  Lacy frowned, and Babb shook a hand to wave off her concern.  “Sorry.  Go on.”

She pulled out a different map, with a clearly-marked scale of distance.  “The old temple was on an island here, about a mile and a half away.  It was destroyed by a tidal wave a few hundred years ago.  They’d almost forgotten it was even there.”

Seekan nodded.  “Then that is where the gem lies.  All my divinations point to it.  You will retrieve it for me, and then we will sail . . . here.  Forty-five miles upstream of this delta is the Temple of Echoed Souls, where-”

“Wait a bit,” Babb said.  “Lacy, we’re just going to share a ship with them to their current temple, then sneak out and loot their old one?  I mean, sure, if they’re fine with that, better for us.”

Lacy looked uncomfortable.  “I haven’t mentioned it to them, actually.  I just said we wanted passage to the mouth of the Vespis River, then to Turinn.  You’ll be alright if let you off at the river, Seekan?”

A restrained nod.

“Good.  I arranged a decent price for the trip, since we’re only really putting them out of their way for the second half of it.  We’ll have to find another ship to take us from Turinn to Seaquen.  Should be easier, though.”

“Yeah,” Babb said.  “At least they speak a real language there.  But, Lace, you never quite explained how we’re going to get the gem from the sunken temple.”

Lacy sighed.  “They don’t even know it’s there, so they can’t be angry if we take it.”

“It’s good that your conscience is clear, but that doesn’t help us get there.  They’ll be suspicious if we all go for a swim.”

“Well, it will be difficult,” Lacy said, “but if we’re fast we can do it.  The temple is further south than Palesi, and the cliffs to the north and east cast a long shadow, so there should be about three hours of night there.  They’re going to be busy performing rituals all day, and they’re not supposed to go outside at night, so we should be able to leave and come back while most everyone is asleep.”

Babb nodded and yawned.  “Alright then, let me get my stuff, and we can go back to the inn and tell the others.”

“Um,” Lacy started.

Seekan asked, “There is a complication?”

“There are actually two temples on the island.  The other one is a chapel of Meliska.”

Babb shrugged.  “Do they have sex rituals too?  I can spread my prayers around if it will help.”

“Babb,” Lacy scolded.  “Meliska’s clergy is opposed to Vanessi’s.  We never had to worry about it back home since the nearest chapel of Meliska was thirty miles away, but the rivalry here is intense.”

Seekan stared at Lacy.  “These are opposing deities?”

“Sisters,” Lacy said.  “You honestly don’t know about Meliska?  I thought she had a lot of followers in lower Nozama.”

Babb tossed up his hands.  “Don’t worry about it, Lace.  Meliska’s, what?  Life and the sun?  Vanessi is life and the power of nature.  Why everyone makes such a big deal about it doesn’t make sense to me.  Look, I’m tired, and no bed at a crummy inn is going to be as good as where I was twenty minutes ago, so to hell with more planning.  We’ll worry about it on the trip there.”

Lacy sighed.  “This _is_ important, Babb.  But if you want, we can go back to the others.  I won’t bother you with the details.”

“That’s just the way I like it.  Now, could you put that necklace back on and ask them if I can keep the robe?  It’s like a warm towel.”


----------



## RangerWickett (Oct 29, 2004)

*Episode Four: My Hero, Section III*

Babb pounded across the wooden planks of the Palesi docks, then planted himself heavily on the stack of crates beside Tri’ni.

He said, “I see they found you something to wear.”

“Yes.”  Tri’ni grinned back, then waved her arms to show off the sleeved shirt, loose and pale gold.  For pants she wore fur-trimmed brown leather.  “I like it.  It catches the wind better than ray-skin.”

“That’s what that was?”  Babb chuckled.  “You ready to go?”

“Well, of course.  It’s not like I have much to carry.”

Babb and Tri’ni both turned to look at the ship they were set to leave on, the _Tvencleft_.  Gold and green banners decorated the deck, and its three sails were woven with the symbol of Vanessi.  It was certainly one of the most impressive ships in the harbor, which was filled mostly with stumpy fishing vessels and rugged merchant ships from Kequalak City or Turinn.  It was nearing noon, and hundreds of dockworkers swept almost tidally along the docks, ferrying supplies from warehouses to ships.

Babb said, “Big festival, apparently.  Everyone’s heading out to enjoy a whole day of sun.  Must be pretty strange for you, huh?”

“The sun, yes,” Tri’ni said.  She glanced up, shielding her eyes, then looked back down to the active docks.  “But the city isn’t that strange.  It’s very flat.  I’m used to things being built in walls and ceilings.  Only a few cities down below take up just one cavern.  Most are spread out with tunnels connecting the different areas.  But Palesi’s very open.  And the wind here: I like it best of any place so far.”

Babb yawned, and soon Tri’ni yawned as well.  A pair of sailors from the _Tvencleft_ came over and gestured for them to move off the crates.  Tri’ni hopped clear, and Babb staggered wearily to his feet.  The men carried off the nearest crate, eyeing the two of them and chattering in Tennae.

“Trin,” Babb said, “do you get the sense that we’re the two most interesting-looking people in this city?  Everyone’s been giving me funny looks.”

Tri’ni sighed.  “You, me, and our employer, yeah.”

“So you consider yourself a professional now?  What skills do you bring to our party?”

Tri’ni looked down, embarrassed.  “I climb better than the rest of you, and I can see in the dark.  Yes, I know it’s going to be daylight all day, and that there’s nowhere to climb on a boat.”

“You can climb on a boat,” Babb said derisively, but then he winced at himself.  He had not intended to sound angry.  “Look, I guess you don’t use them down underground, but you see all those shafts of wood and ropes on top of the ship.  When we set out, they’re going to let down a sail, which is a big piece of cloth that will catch the wind.  That’s what moves the ship.  Actually, do you even have boats down there?”

Tri’ni frowned.  Now she looked mildly offended.  “Of course we do.  You can’t very well have a city if there’s no water nearby.  I don’t know what all these ‘trees’ grow on, but most of our food comes from the water.”

“I think the sun makes them grow,” Babb said.

“The sun.  You act like it’s so important.  We get by without any sun just fine.  I don’t know.  I’m becoming a little frustrated with the sun.  I like it best when it’s setting.”

“Oh, stop whining.  You’ll get used to it.  I grew up where it snowed half the year, and I got used to the swamp they built Elstrice in.  Anyway, you’ve got an advantage on the rest of us with your eyes.  You’d probably be a better scout than Allar.”

Allar was standing on the deck of the _Tvencleft_, about twenty feet away, but he turned and looked at them just then.  He smiled for just a moment, then walked over to where Lacy stood on the gangplank.

Tri’ni sighed as if she was sad, but then her tone was cheerful.  “For a man who tried to kill me, he’s actually rather nice.  You know, he was asking about Lacy yesterday.  Wait, look.  I think he’s about to. . . .”

Tri’ni nodded in Allar and Lacy’s direction, and Babb watched.  Lacy was lower on the gangplank than Allar, but he still had to look up to meet her eyes.  Then he opened his hip pouch and pulled out what looked like a small book.  He handed it to her, and Lacy smiled.  Babb started to walk toward them, but Tri’ni put out a hand to stop him.

“I knew you didn’t like him.”

Babb glared down at Tri’ni.  “He’s not the problem.  It’s who he’s talking to.”

Babb growled to himself.  “You don’t know how it goes.  Lace has _terrible_ times with men.  Everyone starts off feeling sorry for her, which just shows that the bastards think there’s something wrong with her.  And then, every time, something happens that ruins it.  The last time, there were two guys, and they ended up beating us to a job we were hired for.

“Are you sure you don’t hold it against him that he tried to kill him?  Because if I don’t want to hit him just for myself.”

Tri’ni straightened her back and clenched her fists like she was getting ready to fight.  “Yes.  Hit our friends.  You’ll be my hero.  Then I can take Allar’s job as scout.”

Babb chuckled, then relaxed.  “You’ll need to do better than that.  Isn’t David teaching you magic?”

Tri’ni shook her head, suddenly dejected.  “Not yet.  I thought I had something in the mountains, but nothing since then.”

Babb said, “So you’re just a good climber who can see in the dark, and sunburns easily?  I think we’ll keep Allar.”

“I can swim well,” Tri’ni said.  “Allar wanted me to come along, and he asked as if he wasn’t sure I could.”

“Al wanted you to. . . ?  Hey, he can do what he wants, I guess.  Here, in case he’s still trying to get you killed, . . . I suppose I should give you a gift too.”

Babb self-consciously bent over and unstrapped a sheathed dagger from his leg, then rummaged through his pack to find a short sword.  “Here.  The sword’s new, got it this morning, but I’ve had the dagger for two years now.  You know how to use these?”

Tri’ni took the weapons with a smirk.  “No, not at all.  At least, you know, not the way an ‘adventurer’ should.  But, thank you.”

“I’ll show you some time, then.  Just keep them with you when you go to the underwater temple.”

“You’re not coming, Babb?”

Babb stomped on the dock, then made a circular kicking motion.  “Not built for swimming that well.  Lacy’s set me up as a distraction, just in case.”

“Oh.”  

Tri’ni looked disappointed, which made Babb feel good.  While he admitted he probably would not have been able to swim to the ruins, he still was not happy being left out.

“So,” Tri’ni said hesitantly, “you like to tell stories.  Didn’t anything interesting happen yesterday.”

“What has my sister been telling you?”  Babb looked at her dubiously.

“Actually,” Tri’ni said, “I was wondering a little about Seekan.  Whenever I see him, he stares at me a little longer than seems normal.”

Babb muttered, “Lizard man, not normal?  Why would you say that?”

“I wonder if he’d be interested in teaching me magic.”

“Gods I hope not.”  Babb held up a hand in defense.  “Hey, sorry, but the guy is strange.  He won’t say anything about himself.  Even Lacy’s a little wary of him.  He’s lucky he’s a wizard.  With a face like that, he probably needs magic to ever sleep with a woman.”

Tri’ni cleared her throat in surprise, then shook her head.  “I trust him.”

“So he’s probably got a spell on you.”

Tri’ni shook her head again, somber.  “Believe me.  I know what having someone meddle with your mind feels like.”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, and then Tri’ni smiled weakly.  

“Thank you again for the, um, weapons.  When Allar’s done talking to Lacy, maybe he’ll show me how to put them on.”

Babb straightened to his full height, trying to look imposing.  Tri’ni cringed, but still smiled as she walked away.  Babb watched her for a moment as she climbed the gangplank and started talking with Lacy and Allar.  Then Babb felt someone standing close beside him.  He turned to see a stiff Seekan, his robes barely moving in the wind.

“You are not accompanying the others to retrieve the gem?”

“Nope.”  Babb took a half-step away.  “I heard you’re not either.”

Seekan moved away, to the ship.  Babb wondered suddenly why the man had no supplies with him.

Everyone else was aboard the _Tvencleft_ now, and the last of the crates were being carried on, but Babb did not feel quite like leaving yet.  The city was actually fairly tame compared to Elstrice, Lyceum, or Seaquen, but it was some place he had never been before.  When he and Lacy had first left home three years ago, he would have been impressed by that alone.  He could not explain it to himself, but he wanted to be surprised again.

Babb grumbled, looking around again, still unimpressed.  “I guess after you kill your first dragon, the towns stop mattering so much.”

He was about to board the ship when he saw a nearby vessel unfurl its single sail, revealing the symbol of the church of Meliska: a pine tree in black field, lit by the blue glow of an eclipsed sun.  Almost immediately he heard unhappy voices from the deck of the _Tvencleft_.

Babb nodded, grinned eagerly, and went on board.

*	*	*​
The two ships – _Tvencleft_ of the Temple of Vanessi and Lupaseloma of the Chapel of Meliska – paced each other along the western shore of Tennas, traveling through what would have been night.  Babb found himself on deck as the _Tvencleft_ began to clip eastward, around the northern cape of the Stormchaser Coast.  Tri’ni was on deck, as well as Seekan, so Babb kept his distance, slumping his back on the port railing, with his head dangling upside down.

It was cloudy, and dark, the low sun hiding the ship in the shadow of the coastal cliffs.  At one point Babb saw motion on the shore, like some huge creature was diving from the old Elvish forest into the sea, but it was at least a mile away, and he was dizzy.  In keeping with the festival atmosphere, the priests had brought along thick Tennae ales.

It disappointed Babb that even hanging his head upside down over the stormy sea could not make him vomit, so he stood with a sway, and went downstairs, intending to punch Allar.  Instead he woke up the next morning to Lacy shaking him.  They had reached the island.

*	*	*​
“You don’t trust her, do you?” Babb asked.

Allar squinted one eye, uncertain.  “We’ve talked a little.  She assures me there are Taranesti just as cruel as I used to think.  And she seems to hate the Trillith pretty intensely.  I don’t know.  I suppose I just don’t know where I stand.”

In their room on the island, Allar and Babb were helping each other put on their armor.  They were in the most distant building of the three that made up the Temple of Vanessi.  They could hear the priests playing horns and bells in the courtyard, as the sun moved toward dusk.  Lacy was with them, fasting in a ritual she understood only slightly better than Babb.  David was double-checking the waterbreathing talismans to make sure they had not been a cheap scam, and Tri’ni was away with Seekan, a half-mile away at the Chapel of Meliska.

Babb said, “So are you bringing her along because you want to show how trusting you are, or because you want to keep an eye on her?”

“You’re the one calling me distrusting?  Honestly, I’m bringing her along because she has Elvensight.  Seekan mentioned the gem has a fragment of a soul in it.  Full-blooded Elves can see that sort of thing.  It’s better than picking up all the fallen rocks and looking.”

“Huh.”  Babb frowned and shook his head to test the tightness of the neck guard.  “I can still come along, Al.  Last night I saw this nasty thing crawling out of the old Elf woods and swim into the ocean.  What if it attacks?  Of course, I was really drunk at the time.  Are you sure you’re going to be safe by yourself?”

Allar smiled.  “This will be fun, Babb.  Too bad you’re going to be stuck here, watching our backs.  We’ll leave a spare water breathing charm for you, just in case we don’t come back before the sun comes back up.  Don’t worry, I’ll keep Lacy safe.”

Babb scratched behind his ear nervously.  “Yeah, Allar, I wanted to tell you something about that.”

Babb felt the pressure of Allar staring at him, and he could not think of what to say.

“Just, watch out for her, alright?  For me.”

Allar smiled.  “We’ll be fine, but you can trust me.  We’ll come back in one piece.  You just try not to sleep around with any more priestesses.”

“Dammit, did she tell you about that?”  Babb huffed.

“So, is that a normal ritual for priestesses of Vanessi?  Because-”

“You’re pushing it, Al,” Babb said.

Someone knocked on the door, and Allar opened it.  David stepped in, holding up two handfuls of stones on chains.  He said, “They work.  Take one, and let’s round up the others to go over the plan again.”

Babb turned away to pick up his sword.  “Good for you.  I guess I’ll get Trin and scaleface.”

David tossed him one of the talismans.  Babb caught it and was out the door.

*	*	*​
He had not snuck up on someone in three years, and his last attempt had not been in plate armor.  But he wanted to hear what they were discussing.  The waves might cover some of the sound of his approach, and the scrabby trees would hide him, he hoped.

“- near Melasurej?” Seekan was saying.  “Guenhavesti or Taranesti side?”

Tri’ni replied, “He was. . . .  Well, he started, and ended up, on the Taranesti side.  But I remember he told me that he was captured by the Guenhavesti when he was very young.  They kept him as a slave until he was . . . thirty-eight, I think, when he managed to escape.  He never did talk much about that, though.”

Babb wondered who they were talking about.

Seekan asked, “Would your father have told this Trillith anything more?”

Tri’ni’s voice sounded suspicious.  “Why?”

“I am sorry if I have pried.  I do not have a father of my own.  A strange incidence of my birth.”

“I don’t want to talk about the Trillith,” Tri’ni said.  “Anyway, the one that . . . that controlled my father and me, it’s dead.  If you know about the Guenhavesti and the Taranesti, you must know about the Trillith.”

“I travel,” Seekan said, “but seldom linger.  I do regret what happened to you and your father.  I have kin in bondage.  This gem will in part help free them.”

Babb could not see them, but he shook his head to himself and whispered.  “He has to be evil.  He’s too ‘mysterious’ not to be.”

Tri’ni said, “I hope we find it.  I want to help.”

Babb worried that if they kept talking, the dark Elf girl might begin to trust the strange lizard man too much.  So he stood and pressed against the tree, then called out to them.  Tri’ni jumped a bit, but Seekan did not startle at all.  Babb kept his eyes on the man as he told them it was time to go.

*	*	*​
They kept their voices conspiratorially low as the evening temple bells marked the approach of dusk.  The others were gathered on stone benches around a candle-lit map of the nearby rocks and islands, but Babb sat near the door.  If he was going to keep watch, he wanted to start early.

When their discussion ended, Babb nodded to Lacy and waved her over.

“Can we talk?”

Lacy might have sensed his frustration.  She nodded and opened the door.  “I need to change my clothes anyway.”

Babb followed her to the room she was sharing with Tri’ni, then waited impatiently outside as she went in to change.  Babb tapped his hoof impatiently, and suddenly wished he had found a place to buy tobacco back in Palesi.  It was almost perfectly quiet, just the sound of waves in the distance.

The door opened and Lacy whispered, “What did you want to talk about?  I hope this isn’t about Allar.”

“Al?”  Babb started to shake his head.  “No, this is more import-”

Then Lacy stepped out of the door, and Babb groaned.  She looked like she had borrowed half of one of Therva’s dresses.  Her chest and hips were covered with white cloth, and she still had a dagger on a belt around her leg.

“There’s a monster out there, Lacy.  I saw it last night when I was drunk.  And it . . . I swear to Brakken, and hell, I’ll swear to Vanessi too, if you don’t wear more than that, the monster had better eat you.”

Lacy crossed her arms self-consciously.  “Pearl divers in Seaquen wear this sort of . . . thing all the time.”

“Seaquen,” Babb said, having to restrain himself from yelling, “is thousands of miles south from here.  Dammit, Lace, you’ll freeze to death in that.”

“I’ve got that covered.  If you had been listening, you’d know that David and I can both use magic to protect against the cold.  I can’t swim in leather armor.”

“Allar is,” Babb said.  “Wait, no.  Dammit, you’re distracting me.  I wanted to warn you about Seekan.  I overheard him and Trin talking, and he’s just . . . suspicious.”

Babb checked to make sure Lacy was not going to laugh.  Then he said, “He was asking about the dark Elves, and Tri’ni’s dad and .  I don’t trust him.  It might not be safe down there.”

Lacy hesitated, thinking, then nodded.  “You might be right, but do you know why someone we’ve never met would have it out for us specifically?  Look, Babb, I know how you get sometimes.  You get bored, and you want to make trouble.  We’ve got to go now if we’re going to do this.  Just keep an eye on Seekan while we’re out.  If you are right, just get your hands on him and strangle him until he tells you what his evil plan is.  But try to wait a little while before you do, alright?”

“You’re not wearing that,” Babb said.

“I’ll be careful.”  

Lacy hugged him, then headed back for the room everyone else was in.  Just as she was about to open the door, it opened itself, and Seekan glided out, his eyes on Babb.

“We must move swiftly,” Seekan said.  “Night is upon us.”

Reluctantly, Babb followed.


----------



## RangerWickett (Nov 3, 2004)

*Episode Four: My Hero, Section IV*

“Ugh.”

Babb sat upright, splashing the seawater around him.  That confused him.  He did not remember falling asleep.

Something tugged at his memory, a nightmare of mist and screams, but now the sun was rising, gray and shadowed, reflecting off the waves.

Why was he sitting in the ocean?

Eroded stone pillars and the remains of an old wooden dock surrounded him, pushing up out of the surf.  Even sitting the water did not reach his belly, except when a wave splashed over him.  He was not wearing his armor, and a water-breathing amulet was around his neck.  Behind him was the Chapel of Meliska, and he thought he remembered going there last night, before, or maybe after, the others went for the sunken temple.  The sun was rising now, so where were they?

And why was he sitting in the ocean?

A restrained voice said, “The sun rises, yet the others have not returned.  It is good that you reconsidered following them.”

Babb looked to Seekan, walking through the surf toward him, the hem of his robes turning wet as he left the beach.  Something felt wrong.  Babb did not remember seeing him there a moment earlier.

“Um, yeah,” Babb said, shaking his head and standing.  “Do you feel strange or anything?”

Seekan barely shrugged.

A distant splash sounded out to sea, and Babb saw Lacy’s head cast a long shadow over the water as it emerged from the waves.  She kicked so her entire head and shoulders were above water, and then waved to him.  Her shoulders were mostly bare, and Babb felt uncomfortable anger that she had worn the silly outfit.  He wished he could remember when they had actually left, though.  His memory was fuzzy.

Allar, Tri’ni, and finally David followed, swimming until they were shallow enough to wade.  When they were fifty feet away, Lacy held up a bag and smiled.  To Babb’s side, Seekan’s reptilian lips parted in a sharp-toothed grin.

The sun was rising, so they needed to get off the beach quickly, before any of the priests of Meliska or Vanessi saw them.

*	*	*​
Allar closed the door behind them, giving them privacy just in time as the morning bells of the Temple of Vanessi began to ring.  Babb, tense with curiosity, finally spoke.

“Tell me what I missed, dammit.”

The group smiled, in their own ways.  Lacy’s nervous smile, Allar amused laugh, Tri’ni’s eager grin, David’s smirk.  And Seekan, with a soft, knowing curve to his lips.

“We were attacked,” Tri’ni said, proudly lifting her shirt to show off the raw flesh of her side and thigh.  It looked recently healed.

Lacy explained, “At the old temple, it was very hard to see, even with a light spell.  Tri’ni was the one who spotted the creature.  It was something like a lashai, big and with lots of tentacles.”

Allar nodded.  “It covered me in some sort of slime that made me float to the surface, and then David seared it with a fire spell-”

“-which disturbed the water,” David continued, “causing the ruins of the temple to start to collapse.”

“Right,” Tri’ni said.  “It grabbed Lacy, and me, and David, and was about to get away when the temple fell on it.  I had to use the dagger you gave me to cut the tentacle off.”

Lacy said, “And Allar managed to cut through the slime and swim back down.  He cut me free while David made the water steam around the lashai.”

It sounded very exciting to Babb.  And they had not needed him.

“But then,” Tri’ni said, excited, “the monster started to eat Allar, holding him with all the tentacles we hadn’t cut off yet.  I saw it knock Lacy’s sword away, and it fled, faster than David could catch up.  

“Lacy and I swam with it, and just when the thing was about to pull Allar’s head inside it’s mouth, Lacy reached out and grabbed Allar’s arm.  She put some spell on him, and the monster started to spasm and let go of Allar.”

Lacy explained, “I placed a ward on him.  I was just lucky I guessed what type of magic the creature was vulnerable to.”

“Lacy was amazing,” Tri’ni said.  “She swam faster than me, and when the thing let Allar go, she created a wall to keep the monster away.”

Babb looked at his sister.  “You can do that?  You never did that for me.”

“Sorry,” Lacy said.  “Usually I figure it’s better off just to heal you.”

“That’s alright.  So, the monster got away?”  Babb was hopeful he might be able to finish it off.

Tri’ni shook her head.  “No.  It was great.  The thing swam for David, and he’d been waiting for it.  It went for him with its tentacles, and David just touched it, and. . . .  This is the best part.  David, do you want to tell him?”

David snorted, then shook his head.

“Oh, well,” Tri’ni said, “I was barely back to where David and the creature were, and I get there just in time to see the thing’s body transform into a naked gnome.”

Babb laughed.  “What the hell?”

“It’s a disguise spell,” David said.  “I just adapted it a bit.  I thought it’d be useful underwater.”

Tri’ni grinned.  “It was.  It was, I guess I have to say, a little uncomfortable killing it when it looked like a gnome, but the monster couldn’t breath, and didn’t know how to swim without all its tentacles.  We finished it easily.”

“Damn,” Babb grumbled.  “So then you found the gem?”

Lacy said, “Yes.  It took a while sifting through the debris, which is why we were late coming back.  Seekan, I sincerely hope we found the right gem.”

Babb held his breath, watching Seekan and Lacy.  She pulled forth a tiny clear gem and held it in her palm.  It was less than a quarter of an inch across, with a triangular cut.  Everyone leaned in close, probably not having had a chance to see it up close until now.

“It’s diamond,” David said.  “The cut looks familiar.”

Seekan’s taloned fingers slid the tiny gem out of Lacy’s palm and into some pocket inside his robes.  Sibilant, he replied, “I assure you, it is ancient.”

Babb harrumphed.  “A diamond that small wouldn’t even cover the cost of those water breathing amulets.  What’s so important about it.”

Tri’ni’s wide emerald eyes slid from Seekan to Babb.  He saw awe in her expression.

“There’s a soul in it,” she said.  “I wonder whose.”

“Unfortunately,” Seekan replied, his voice gentle, “you will have to remain curious.”

A knock came at the door, then a voice in Tennae, urgent.  Babb looked around to the others, all dripping with seawater.

Allar cursed quietly.  “I’d hoped we’d have a little more time than this.  Lacy, what’s going on?”

“Just a moment,” Lacy said.  

She had to search through her belongings to find the translating charm, and then she went to the door and spoke through it.  A quick conversation followed, Lacy’s expression growing increasingly worried.  Finally she took the necklace off.

“I don’t. . . .  That was Therva.  She’s worried the Meliskan priests are going to attack.  They are saying one of their priests was murdered, less than an hour ago, in their chapel.”

David sighed.  “Lucky us.  Let me guess: one of them saw us at the beach by the chapel?”

Lacy shook her head.  “No, not at all.  Nobody seems to know what happened.”

Babb frowned, and he felt eyes turn to him.  He had been near the chapel then, but his memory was blank.  A deep growl filled his throat, and he looked with suspicion at Seekan.

“Did you see anything, boss?”

Seekan’s gold-green eyes narrowed.  “We should prepare to leave.  The ceremony is complete, correct?”

No one else seemed worried that the lizard man had ignored the question.  Lacy simply replied, “Yes.  We’re scheduled to set sail in about five hours.”

Allar stood, taking charge.  “Alright.  Get your things together and move back to our quarters on the _Tvencleft_.  I know I’m exhausted, so try to get some sleep.  We’re not getting paid to solve a murder mystery, so hopefully we’ll be gone before we get ourselves into trouble.  We _aren’t_ in any trouble, are we, Babb?”

Babb snapped out of his glare at Seekan long enough to scoff at Allar.  “None that I caused, that’s for damn sure.”

“Sorry,” Allar said defensively.  “I just don’t want to get between these two groups.  No offense, Lacy?”

Lacy waved off his concern.  “They’re not my Temple.”

Tri’ni chimed in, “This might be another ancient force of evil you’ve unleashed.  It is a strange coincidence that there’d be a death while we were exploring the old temple.”

David jumped down from his chair and said, “I don’t handle ancient evil without sleep.  Come on Allar.  Let’s give the women room to change.”

Allar and David left, and Seekan did the same.  Babb hesitated, still feeling uncomfortable.  Then the Temple bells began to toll insistently, and he headed for the door.

Standing in the open doorway he said, “I’ve got a feeling we’ve gotten ourselves into trouble, and scaleface is to blame.  I’ll put money to it.”

Tri’ni sighed.  “Babb, you haven’t trusted him since you saw him.  I’m sure, though.  He is a good person.  Try not to scare him away.”

“Yeah,” Babb said, “because there are lots of places to go on an island.  You two get changed, and get to the boat.”

Babb left and closed the door behind him, and for a moment in the post-midnight sunrise he thought he saw mist creeping away from him.  He blinked, and it was gone.


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## RangerWickett (Nov 30, 2004)

*Episode Four: My Hero, Section V*

Babb squinted at his reflection in the flat of his blade, then smirked.  He lowered the sword and looked out from the deck of the _Tvencleft_, searching for anything dangerous.  Everything looked safe.

Babb huffed, disappointed.

The others were all asleep, but Babb did not feel tired.  They had all come aboard the ship together, expecting to be well underway before they woke up.  Lacy had finally changed into something respectable, and the others had joked about how much of a percentage Tri’ni was entitled to, but Babb had felt uncomfortable.  He had taken off his armor and tried to sleep, but something inside him had told him to go on deck.

The _Tvencleft_’s crew of Vanessi priests were working quickly to weigh anchor and leave the island, with only a few still on shore to ensure the Meliskan priests would not try anything rash.  All the precautions meant there wouldn’t be any fighting, and even the angry yelling was dying down.  It left a bad taste in Babb’s mouth.

Therva walked by, directing the crew in Tennae to ready the ship for departure.  Babb tapped her on her shoulder.

“Hey lady, we’re just leaving?”

Babb could almost see her trying to parse what he was saying, squinting as she translated.  Then she nodded.  “The Meliska priests are not we will fight.  They say we lie.  We with you will go to Turinn and come back after the Meliska priests not want will fight.”

Babb frowned.  “You’re sure one of you guys didn’t kill their priest?”

“We no do kill.”  Therva scowled and looked out to the sun, low to the north-east.  “In night, all were sleeping.”

“What happened?  How did he die?”

“Priest was woman,” Therva said.  “They say, she no did. . . .”  

Therva squinted, stuck on a word she did not know.  She said something in Tennae, then made exaggerated motions to her throat and chest, breathing deeply.  She shook her head, and spoke again in Tennae.

“Breathe?” Babb said.  He mimed being choked, and when Therva laughed at him, he glared back.  “So you’re saying she suffocated?”

“They say she no did breathe, yes.”

Something had happened in the night, Babb remembered, and he had had trouble breathing.  And now he thought he remembered a woman, but it was all hazy.  He briefly considered getting the others, but they had been ignoring his concerns this whole time.  No, he should stay on deck.

Therva went back to directing the crew, and Babb waited.  The deck was crowded, and he found himself pressed near the forecastle.  He found himself looking at his sword again, and he remembered doing it before.  Something seemed to be weighing down on him, and he turned to look behind him, but there was just the stairs of the forecastle.  

Frowning, Babb sheathed his sword and made a mental note not to look at it again.  The _Tvencleft_ swept away from shore, heading south, and Babb wondered when they had left.  For a few minutes, he just waited, until he noticed that work on the deck was slowing down.  The ship was sailing on its own, and the crew were all sitting down, or leaning against the railing.  Some were even lying on the deck, getting ready to sleep.  In the distance to the south, the clouds were gray, and Babb was fairly certain competent sailors would be taking precautions against a storm.

“Someone’s using magic,” Babb muttered, and the simple statement seemed to shake away the haziness in his head.

He remembered earlier, at night, being at the Meliskan temple, hearing a cry for help, and he had run down a hallway lit with candles.  A hallway where he had seen mist.  Babb grunted and kicked the staircase beside him.  He shook his head, snapped his fingers, and tried to focus.  Finally he slammed his head into the main mast, and everything was clear.

“Hey, lady,” Babb said, shaking Therva, who was staring blankly back at the island.

She turned and smiled at him, and spoke in Tennae.  He tried to shake her again, and contemplated slapping her, but he doubted it would do any good.

“Great.  I get to do this alone.”

Babb went down the stairs to belowdecks, turning one last time to see if anyone on deck looked conscious.  They were all motionless, at different stages of falling asleep.  Something inside him suggested they might just be tired from staying up performing rituals all night, but Babb head-butted the nearest solid object, and that part of him shut up.

Once we has below deck, the dim light of the day faded to gloom, and the sounds of the ship and the sea became muted.  The air was damp, hard to breathe.  Babb lit a lantern, and the fire struggled to catch, but eventually it forced some illumination into the narrow hallway.

Judging from the number of people on deck, Babb imagined none of the crew were down here, which left just his friends and Seekan.  Four doors down, Babb’s berth was on the left, Seekan’s on the right, with Allar and David fifth on the right, and the women sharing a room fifth on the left.  Something inside Babb told him to check the storage hold one deck down, but Babb slammed his head into the wall again.  The pain helped him ignore the voiceless suggestion.  

He stomped toward Seekan’s berth, then drew his sword and kicked in the door.

It was empty, not even a bedroll or a hammock.  The porthole window had been covered with a curtain, and Babb squinted in the darkness to make sure the lizard wasn’t hiding.  The air grew damp and Babb wanted to go inside the room and close the door behind himself.

“Dammit,” Babb shouted to the air, “stop that!  I’m going to find you, Seekan.  Where the hell would you-”

Babb drew in a breath and looked behind him.  Across the hallway, the door to Lacy and Tri’ni’s room hung open.  He ran into the room and saw Tri’ni lying on her bedroll, and Seekan standing over her, one hand extended.  The air around his hand shimmered with white light.  In the back of the room, Lacy slept obliviously.

Babb slashed with his sword, and Seekan turned to face him as the blade bore down for his neck.  His gold-green eyes widened, but when the blade struck where he was, it cut through him without resistance, trailing vapor.  Seekan’s form wavered, his edges flowing like mist, and something slipped through his hand, falling to the floor.

Babb spun his sword for a backswing, and again he cut through Seekan’s body, but it was as intangible as fog.  Seekan cringed as the sword sliced his body, and he collapsed momentarily into a cloud of gray mist, rolling with purpose across Tri’ni, putting her between him and Babb.  Then Seekan’s body became tangible again, and he glared at Babb.

Babb felt a brief desire to sleep, but it was much fainter than before.  He growled and raised his sword to strike, hoping this time the lizard man would stay solid, but then Seekan grabbed Tri’ni by the throat and yanked her across him as a shield.  She did not react, as if she were in a deep slumber.

“Drop her,” Babb demanded, holding his sword at ready.

Seekan shifted slightly, reaching out with one hand to try to grab something on the floor, the gem, now glowing almost as bright as a candle.  Babb stomped on it, and Seekan hissed, drawing back.

“No gem for you,” Babb said.  “I haven’t crushed it yet, and if you don’t want me to hurt it, you’re going to let Trin go and stay solid.”

“I need the gem,” Seekan said.  “She resists, and I need this girl’s dreams to keep her from overwhelming us.  You felt her power.  If you do not trust me, we may both die.”

“Sure,” Babb said.  “Try whatever tricks you want, ‘boss.’  I’ve been wise to you from the start.  Now you’ve got ‘til the count of three to-”

Babb tried to talk, but he suddenly felt like he was breathing water.  The air turned cold, and his limbs refused to move, unless he wanted to go to sleep.  Babb managed a gurgling growl and slightly lifted his sword for Seekan, before he saw that the man was slumped on the ground, his limbs spasming.

Unable to fight the compulsion, Babb sagged, and the moment his hoof came off the gem, he was able to breathe again.  He lay there catching his breath for a moment, then felt a cold mist sweep across his legs.  He looked and saw Seekan’s form faded into vapor again, sliding across the floor.  Babb scrambled away and hacked at the mist, but only cut into wood.  Seekan’s mist form flowed past him and out the door, then headed down the hallway.

Babb leapt into the hallway after Seekan, and saw the mist roll to the base of the stairs.  For a brief moment in the dim sunlight, Seekan shifted into his solid form, then cringed and staggered down the stairs to the storage hold.  Babb was about to follow when Tri’ni screamed.  Babb cursed and ran back to her, dropping his sword and holding her steady.

“Trin, wake up.  Get ahold of yourself, dammit.”

Tri’ni’s face was clenched with pain, her eyes tightly shut.  Babb didn’t know what else to do, so he slapped her, and her eyes opened, gleaming green even in the dim light of the toppled lantern.

“What happened?” Tri’ni asked, frightened.  “I had . . . I had a nightmare.  It was . . . horrible.  Babb, what-?”

“It was that bastard Seekan.  He was doing something to you with that gem we found for him.”

Tri’ni struggled free of Babb’s arms and shook her head.  “Seekan?  No, he wouldn’t.  Babb, why do you. . . .  Wait, I know that feeling.”

She shivered, and her expression slowly shifted to one of cold dread.  Tri’ni let out a cry and covered her face with her hands, shaking her head.  Babb reached out to her, not wanting to leave her, but knowing they needed to move quickly to catch Seekan.

“Trin, he’s getting away.”

“No,” she said, choking.  “I trusted him, and he . . . he went into my mind.  He. . . .”

She collapsed, unable to talk.  Babb retrieved the lantern and his sword and stood, then headed out the door after Seekan.  He had seen him head to the lower deck, but to be safe Babb wanted to check up on deck.  He slammed his head into the wall just to be certain, but he still thought it was a good idea, so he ran up to the main deck.  Now everyone was passed out, motionless, maybe even dead.  Babb was about to go back below deck when he saw the dark clouds that had been in the distance were getting closer.  The ship was headed for a storm.

“Good job, Vanessi,” Babb muttered.

He stomped back below deck, and saw Tri’ni leaning on the wall outside her room, struggling to walk.  Babb waved for her to follow, then leapt down the stairs to the lower storage hold.  It was completely dark here, and Babb’s lantern hid more than it revealed.  Crates and barrels littered the low-ceilinged room, vanishing into shadows to the fore and aft.  The walls creaked, but he could hear nothing else.

“Alright Seekan,” he called, “I’ll talk now.  Tell me what’s up, and . . . and we can stop the evil gem together.”

“She’s not evil,” came a reply from the aft.

Babb headed toward it, sneaking, keeping his lantern low.  “Of course not.  Why did you kill the priestess, then?”

“The woman saw me taking the dreams of the others.  She would have alerted them, and your companions would have been discovered before I could retrieve the gem.”

“You’re being awfully forthcoming,” Babb said.  He could not quite tell where the voice was coming from.  “What’s the deal, boss?”

The creaking of the ship increased, and the air grew thick again.  Babb slammed his forehead into a nearby crate, and the sensation subsided.  He hoped he could stop whatever Seekan was up to soon, because his head was starting to hurt.

“You must trust me,” Seekan said.  “I have searched for this piece of the Mother for years.  You are all that stands between me and saving her.  I merely waylaid you last night, and I do not want you as my enemy now.”

Babb finally spotted Seekan, standing beside the wall, clenching the gem in his fist.  Babb leveled his sword at the scale-skinned man.

“You were screwing with Trin’s head,” he said.  “I’m not gonna let you get away with that.”

Seekan turned and gave a restrained sigh.  “Were I to explain it, you would not understand.  What I took from the girl was a trifle, but it will keep the danger at bay.  I would prefer your help, but I do not require it.”

“Babb,” Tri’ni cried.

Babb turned to look back at the stairs, but could not see Tri’ni.  He flashed his lantern and saw her just as she rounded the nearest set of crates.  She was holding a dagger, and looked enraged.

Babb said, “Stay back.”

Tri’ni seethed wordlessly for a moment, then pointed her dagger at Seekan.  “You tricked me.  You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Seekan considered her, showing no emotion.  “I can believe the tales you told me.  Some of us trillith are as cruel and manipulative as you said, but I am not such as them.  I did only what I needed to protect us all.  Now, do not attack me, or else I will not be able to control this spirit’s power.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”  Babb turned to face Seekan, then Tri’ni, his lantern only illuminating one at a time.

“He’s lying,” Tri’ni spat.  “I won’t let you control me again!”

She rushed past Babb and stabbed awkwardly at Seekan, but the blade slipped harmlessly through him as he transformed to mist.  Again the mental force washed over them, and Babb staggered sideways into a stack of crates, knocking them over and shattering his lantern.  Oil spread across the floor and cracked wood of the crates.

“,” Babb cursed.

He turned and saw Seekan trying to keep away from Tri’ni as she stabbed at him.  The light from the gem glowed through Seekan’s hand, and Babb rushed toward him, aiming a swing for the gem.

Seekan’s misty form recoiled, and he returned to solid form long enough to slash at Tri’ni with the claws on his left hand.  He struck Tri’ni on the arm, cutting her and shoving her away.  Babb caught her and pulled her aside.

“Keep back, dammit.”  Babb slashed at Seekan, cutting just fog.  He growled.

“In fact,” Babb continued, “get the hell out of here.  The ship’s going to catch on fire.”

“I won’t let him get away,” Tri’ni shouted.

Seekan backed away, now in the furthest open space of the hold.  He hissed, “I cannot let you endanger the Mother.  I am sorry.”

Babb squinted in confusion as Seekan slipped his mistform hand between two planks of the interior hull, then turned his hand solid again, ripping a chunk out of the wall.  Seekan did it again, digging deeper, and Babb realized he was trying to tear his way out of the ship.

“You er!” Babb shouted.  “We’re below the water line!”

Seekan nodded, tearing another chunk away.  “As I said, I am sorry.”

Water began to spray through a crack in the wall, tearing through the misty form of Seekan, leaving only his right arm and head fully intact.  Babb tried to attack, but found his limbs would not move, like something was holding his muscles from the inside.  Seekan narrowed his eyes at them, then tore a final piece of hull free, and the sea poured in.

Turning solid again, Seekan reached through the hole with his right hand, the hand that held the gem.  Then he began to shift to mist and water, disappearing into the ocean.  Babb heard Tri’ni scream beside him, and suddenly a jagged line of white light cut across the room like lightning, striking Seekan before he faded away.  The scaled man turned solid and spasmed, his body halfway through a hole far too narrow for it.

Babb could move again, but just then the sea water reached the burning oil of his lamp and extinguished the flames, casting the hold into darkness.

“Trin,” he shouted.  “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“He’s getting away,” she called back, and he could hear her plunging through the water.  “You bastard!  I won’t let you do this to me!”

The water was to Babb’s knees now, and crates were beginning to shift, crashing into him.  He lost his balance and fell, and he groped blindly to try to find the wall.

“Dammit, I can’t see in the dark.  Trin!  Which ing way is out?  Leave the bastard to drown, but get _us_ out of here!”

Over the gushing of the seawater and the clunking of wood against wood, Babb heard Tri’ni gasping, her voice ragged.  He struggled toward her as best he could, and finally managed to grab onto her shirt.  The water was waist-deep now.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted.  “Let’s get out of here.  We’ll kill him later if he hasn’t already drowned, alright?”

He felt her nod, and she grabbed his hand.

Weakly she said, “Follow me.”

She pulled him along, and with her help they made it to the stairs to the crew quarters.  Babb could hear panicked shouts overhead in Tennae, and then Lacy’s voice calling for him.

“Lacy, down here.  The ship’s flooding.”

Lacy’s face appeared at the top of the stairs, and she waved them up.

“Hurry,” she said.  “The Meliksan ship is close.  We’re going to try to reach them before the storm hits.”

Babb chuckled.  “Great job again.  Your god’s top notch, Lace.”

Lacy glared at him, then saw Tri’ni, her arm covered in blood, her expression anguished.  

Lacy gasped.  “What happened down there?  Where’s Seekan?”

Babb shook his head and whispered quietly to his sister, “Not now.  Let’s just go.”

*	*	*​
The _Tvencleft_ limped to the _Lupaseloma_, and despite great distrust and bitterness, the Meliskan priests let them on board.  Babb wanted to explain that he had caught the killer and left him to drown, but he doubted they would be happy knowing his employer was responsible.

For the most part Babb ignored the conflict between the two temples.  After telling Lacy and Allar what had happened, he left it to them to explain why the ship had sunk.  All Babb wanted to do was sit on the railing out of everyone’s way, and wait for them to reach land.  He did not know what to do with Tri’ni, but eventually she came over and sat next to him, dangling her legs over the side of the ship.  It was starting to rain.

“Hey there,” Babb said.

Tri’ni nodded, brushing wet hair out of her eyes.

“Do you know what was going on?”

She shook her head.  Her voice caught in her throat.  “He said he wanted to reunite the soul in the gem with its owner.  Babb, is he dead?”

Babb shrugged.  “You can never tell with wizards.  Or lizards, for that matter.  He looked pretty scared, though.  Maybe whatever he was so damned afraid of got him too.”

“He took something from me,” Tri’ni said.  Her tone was frustrated.  “I don’t know what, though.”

Babb huffed.  “Bastard said something about collecting dreams.  Have any good dreams lately?”

“No.  I was dreaming about-”

She stopped, crunched her face, then sighed angrily.  “I can’t remember.”

“You looked terrified down there,” Babb said.  “Was that how it was with the one that you and your father dealt with?”

“My . . . father?”  Tri’ni looked at Babb, confusion in her eyes.  “I think. . . .  I don’t remember what. . . .  I was dreaming of my father, but who was he?”

Babb drew in a breath, nervous.  “You don’t remember?”

“He was. . . .  No.  I- . . . I remember living with him, talking with him, . . . I know I saw. . . .”

She paused, frightened.  “He’s dead.  Babb, I don’t remember what happened.  I know he died, and I remember we killed the trillith, but. . . .”

She tried to talk for a moment, but no words came out.  Finally, she said, “He’s gone.  He took my father from me.”

Babb did not know how to respond.  After a moment he said, “It will come back to you.  It’s just like, you know, a hangover.  You’ll remember.”

Tri’ni seemed to be in shock, and Babb looked away, uncomfortable.  They sat quietly for a moment in the rain.  Lightning flashed far away, and thunder rumbled.

“Hey,” he said, “you used magic, didn’t you?  I saw you with the lightning and all.”

Babb glanced at Tri’ni.  She smiled slightly for a moment, then again looked sad.  The rain hid her tears.

“You alright?” Babb asked.

She shrugged, sniffling.  

After a moment, she chuckled weakly and said, “Y’know, he never paid us.”

Babb nodded.  “You’re right.  He never paid us.  We’ll make the bastard pay for that.”

Tri’ni didn’t reply.  Babb sighed.

“Hey, tell me something.”

She looked at him, confused.  “Alright.”

“No, I mean, just tell me something about yourself.  Anything.”

She smiled slightly, then looked down.  “Maybe later.  Anyway, I like your stories better.”

“You’re right,” Babb said.  “I’m not in the mood for talking now either.”

Thunder rumbled again, and Tri’ni quietly began to cry again.  Babb stayed beside her, and would not move as long as she needed him there.


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## Graywolf-ELM (Jan 7, 2005)

I haven't commented for a while, but I still read and enjoy. 

GW


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## RangerWickett (Jan 25, 2005)

I'll be updating for the rest of the week to get to a nice cliff-hanger, and then no more.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 26, 2005)

*Episode Five: The Bigger Man, Part I, Section I*

Sails cracked in the crisp breeze, sweeping their ship along Seaquen’s Grand Canal.  The others were crowded along the railing, watching with awe as the twin shores glided past, arrayed with the grandest city in the world.

But Lacy stood apart from them, as always watching, smiling faintly.  

They passed beneath the first of the seven arching bridges that spanned Seaquen’s mile-wide canal, and a shadow fell upon them, blocking the intense heat of a Seaquen summer.  They had sailed three thousand miles from Tennas to Seaquen, and the journey had not been joyous.

Tri’ni, the dark-skinned Elf girl who, when they first had met her, had been constantly happy and excited to see the surface world, now held a long robe tight around herself, sheltering from an inner cold.  She mostly only talked to Babb now, not understanding that all of them had been betrayed by Seekan.  The young woman had lost more than the rest of them, though – Seekan had stolen a dream of her father, and all their efforts to help her remember a man none of them had met had failed.

Babb stood protectively near Tri’ni.  His concern was simple and unwavering, the way he used to care for Lacy.  The trip, three different ships and a dozen ports, had been lonely for Lacy, and she longed now for the brotherly care Babb used to keep for her.

David she worried for, though she wondered if any of the others were aware of his troubles.  His pride at their victory in recovering the soul gem for Seekan had been sabotaged, and she could practically feel in his every look that he was coming to hate the life of an ‘adventurer.’

Allar glanced at her, and smiled.

“Why are you hanging back?” he asked, walking over to her.  “I know you’ve been to Seaquen before, but is it possible that someone wouldn’t be impressed by this place?”

Lacy smiled.  She always smiled when Allar talked to her.

“I was just trying to stay in the shade of the sails,” she lied.  “We should be docking soon.  What do we do then?”

Allar shrugged.  “Well, we’re still planning to stay together until Elstrice, so we should find a ship headed that way.  Here, talk with me over here.”

Allar headed for the opposite side of the ship, and Lacy followed, eager to hear what the beautiful half-Elf man wanted to tell her in private.

“We need to do something about the dark Elf,” he said quietly, slumping his arms on the railing.

“Tri’ni,” Lacy said, frustrated.

Allar nodded.

Lacy sighed and cast aside her previous eagerness.  “We can’t track down Seekan, even if he’s still alive.  We barely have enough money left to afford passage for five to Elstrice.  I mean, I want to help her, but . . . she stays up as late as she can every night, until she’s too exhausted to cry herself to sleep.  I don’t know what to do.”

Allar grimaced, pained.  “I didn’t know about that.  I’m sorry.  But, David has an idea, and I wanted to get everyone’s approval before we do this.”

Lacy waited, curious.

“Alright,” Allar sighed.  “Obviously being stuck on a ship with all of us isn’t helping.  She needs something to take her mind off what she’s lost.  David was thinking, and I agree, that it would really help her if she could have some actual magical training.  As far as I know, it’s the only thing she was really interested in.”

“You want to leave her here?”  Lacy shook her head.  “We can’t abandon her.”

Allar put up a hand.  “We won’t.  We won’t.  But, well, I don’t really see our group staying together after we get back to Elstrice anyway.  David wants to go home, and he won’t go without me.  Even if Harlan did hire us again, we can’t bring her along.  She’d just get hurt.  

“Dammit,” he cursed at himself.  “I was irresponsible to bring her along.”

Lacy almost put a hand on Allar’s shoulder to comfort him, then stopped.  If she touched him, his half-Elvish aura would interfere with her magic, stinging painfully the next time she tried to cast a spell.

“You’re wrong,” she said instead.  “It was one of the noblest things we’ve done.  I mean, compared to looting tombs and killing monsters that weren’t threatening anyone anyway, really what’s more important?  We saved her life, and we have been her friends when she had no one else.  We just have to stay her friends now, and not try to foist her off on someone else.”

Allar looked down.  “Damn.  And I thought Babb was going to be the hardest one to convince.”

Lacy laughed weakly.  “He puts on a show that he’s being strong, but he’d probably appreciate it if someone else could handle his ‘problem.’”

“Well, then, Lacy, I still think this is something we should try.  Maybe just telling her we’re going to teach her magic will help her.”

“There’s another problem,” Lacy said.  “Who’s going to pay for her teacher?”

Allar shrugged, then winked.  “We’ll work it out.  And don’t worry.  If she wants to stay with us, she can.”

Allar started to turn away, but Lacy reached out and nervously touched his arm.

“Wait, Allar.  Is that all?”

“What do you mean?”

Lacy started to say something, then she hesitated.  “Will you do me a favor?  Um . . . call her Tri’ni, not ‘the dark Elf,’ alright?”

Allar did not speak for a moment, surprised.  “I thought I did.  Hunh.  Well, I’ll pay closer attention to it in the future.  Anything else?”

Lacy smiled weakly, shaking her head.

“Get your stuff, then,” Allar said.  “We’re docking soon.”

Lacy nodded and started to look away, when from the other side of the ship David called out, “Look.  That’s the Wayfarer’s Theater.”

They all turned to see a gorgeous five-masted ship docked at one of the massive stone legs supporting Seaquen’s Bridge of Bards.  The side of the ship was painted gold and red in beautiful swirling patterns, and banners streamed from the tops of its masts where sails would normally hang.  The ship was low in the water, meaning a performance was going on, and the ship’s massive hold was packed with an audience.

Intrigued, Lacy came over to the rest of the group.

“What is it?” Tri’ni was asking with only mild interest.  She wasn’t wearing her necklace, but for the past two months she had had little to do other than study.  Lacy was glad of that, at least, if they did have to leave her behind.

“The Wayfarers are a group of traveling, performing mages,” David explained.  “They know all kinds of secret magic involving movement.  Their ship there: it can teleport.”

Tri’ni cocked her head to the side.  “What is that?”

“They can move from one place to another,” David said, “in an instant, without having to actually travel.  I never managed to see any of their performances when they were in Elstrice or Nozama.”

Tri’ni was tying her necklace back on, looking confused.

Babb leaned over David.  “So we could have saved two months on boats if you knew how to teleport?  Dammit, gnome, pull your weight around here.”

David smirked to Babb.  “I intend to.  I’m going to visit them and see if I can join.  Tri’ni, do you want to come along?”

Tri’ni, just having finished tying on the necklace, looked up in shock.  “What?  What for?”

“Two reasons.”  David held up two fingers with a grin.  “First, you’re the first dark Elf to come to this city in years, probably, so they’ll want to talk to you even if they don’t want to talk to me.  And second, if you’re going to learn magic, we need to show you a lot of different types, so you find the sort you like best.”

“You’re joking,” Tri’ni said, “aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Babb said with a glower.  “You _are_ joking, right?”

Lacy stepped up then, and said, “I think it’s an excellent idea.  We’ll be here for at least a few days.  You can see the Wayfarers with David and Babb.  I’ll show you to a school for priestesses at a Vanessi temple on the southern shore, and I know a few taskmages who have their own specialties.”

Babb shook his head.  “Wait, you’re _joking_, right?”

Allar shrugged.  “Sounds good to me.  Why not?”

“Hey,” Babb said, “it’d be fun and , but we’re nearly broke.  Who will be paying to teach her, and how long do we plan to be here?”

Tri’ni’s gaze shifted from them to a nearby ship.  “What about him?  He’s an Elf.”

They looked, and Lacy spotted who Tri’ni was looking at.  The ship was trying to sail free from the dock, but anyone with even mild sailing experience could see that it was aligned against the prevailing wind, so it could not get out to the deep canal without a tug.  But its sails were turned around, and the wind seemed to be blowing in the opposite direction across the ship, driving it to deeper water.

High above the deck a man floated in the air, winds whipping his long white robes about him.  His white hair was thin, and when she squinted Lacy thought she could see his pointed ears.  He must have been ancient for Elf, and a memory in Lacy’s mind came to the surface.

“Is that Salsiere?” she whispered.

“Who?” asked several voices.

“I think that’s Tierodunne Salsiere.  He’s head of the Elemental Guardians, and an air elementalist, obviously.”

David said, “Now I remember.  He teaches at the Lyceum in Nozama sometimes.  Isn’t he something like eight-hundred years old?”

“Nine,” Lacy said.

“Slow down,” Tri’ni said.  “What are the Elemental Guardians?”

David rubbed his hands together and smiled.  “We’ll explain . . . when we go visit them.”

“David,” Allar said nervously, “I’m not sure an Elf that old would really be interested in teaching a dark-.  Um, teaching Tri’ni.”

Lacy smiled and laughed softly.

Still staring at the flying mage, Tri’ni sighed.  “I suppose it would be interesting.”

“You’ll love it,” David said, a little too eagerly.  “Any free time we have, we’ll be seeing the city.  I’m sure there are dozens of mages you could talk to.  But we should start with the Wayfarers, I think.”

“I wish I could be so eager,” Lacy said.  “I like the Wayfarers, and their shows are very nice, but it’s not like they would want me to join them.”

“You kidding?” Allar laughed.  “You’re gorgeous, and you have more practical experience with magic than any of them, I’m sure.  In fact, I think we should go.”

Lacy stammered, “What?  You want to take me to . . . to a show?”

Allar grinned, ignoring the sudden glare from Babb.  Lacy saw Babb’s look as well, and smiled inwardly.

“You said you like their shows,” Allar said.  “If I have to sell my armor to afford it, we can go while we’re here.  Well, as long as they don’t teleport away, first.”

Lacy laughed, beaming.  “I’d . . . I’d love to.”

Babb leaned forward and slapped Allar and Lacy on their backs.  “Yeah, should be fun.  I think Trin would get a kick out of it.  Well, I gotta get my stuff.  We’re about to dock.”

Babb cast Allar a smug scowl as he walked away, and Allar hesitantly nodded to Lacy.  She smiled back to him.  Allar stepped back awkwardly, hesitant to look away from Lacy, finally bumping into Tri’ni.  He apologized, then headed below deck.

David cast one final eager look to the Wayfarer’s Theater, then also headed below deck, leaving Lacy and Tri’ni together.

“He likes you,” Tri’ni said, smiling, a hint of pain still in her expression.

“I hope so,” Lacy replied.  Then she sighed.  “Are you going to be alright?  You . . . we’re worried about you.  We want you to be like you were before.  We were hoping you’d . . . we hoped you’d cheer up if you could learn magic.  I’m ready to teach, though it’d be better if we could find an Elvish or Jispin tutor.”

“Thank you.”  Tri’ni looked down.  After a moment, she looked back up and asked, “Are the . . . Wayfarers?  Are they entertaining?”

Lacy smiled widely.  “You’ll love them.  That air mage, Salsiere, he flies with magic, but the Wayfarers, they move like they can fly on their own.”

Tri’ni smiled.  “What do they speak here?”

“Oh.”  Lacy chuckled.  “You’re right.  Most people speak some Lyceian, but the main language is Cavalesh.  I can adjust your necklace so you can understand that too.  Maybe you can learn the language once you’ve gotten better at Lyceian.”

“I’ll learn whatever you can teach me,” Tri’ni said.  “Even if you can’t find me a teacher for magic, I’d love to learn from you and David.  Better with friends than masters, they say.”

Lacy felt her voice catch in her throat for a moment, but then she nodded.  “Yes.  Yes.  But . . . we should get our things.  There’s a lot of city for you to see.”


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 27, 2005)

*Episode Five: The Bigger Man, Pt. I, Section II*

“Make it quick,” Babb said to her as they entered the tavern.  “And preferably cheap.”

Lacy nodded ruefully.  She cast a glance back at the docks outside, then pressed through the late afternoon crowd to the bar.  She was the tallest person in the bar, which let her easily see over everyone’s heads.  It also let her see that many people were looking at her, and not too pleasantly.

The bartender looked up to her, frowned, and said something in Xaopin.

“Um, I’m Lyceian, actually,” she stammered.  “I was wondering if you know any cheap inns.  Something further south would be fine.”

The man shrugged at her like he did not understand.  Like so many in Seaquen, he probably spoke three or four languages, including Lyceian.  But, like so many in Seaquen, he also probably hated Xaopin, and it wouldn’t matter to him that Lacy was from north of Nozama, and not a local.

She doubted she would get any useful information from him, but she tried again in rough Cavalesh.

“If you’re not staying here,” the man said back in Cavalesh, “it is none of my business.  I am sure some farm would take you.”

A few nearby tavern-goers chuckled and gave her unpleasant looks.  Lacy sighed and walked away, looking around the crowd for someone who might help.  She had spent a year in Seaquen when she had first left home, and she was well aware of how the generally cosmopolitan city disliked its native Xaopin population.  Along the marshes to the south there were dozens of small Xaopin villages, but few Xaopin came here to the center of the city.  All the faces she saw in the tavern were Cavaleshi or Lyceian.

Momentarily lost in a frustrated daze, it took her a moment to realize someone was trying to get her attention.  She noticed slight movement in one of the corners of the room, and saw two men – one a red-headed Kelaquois, and the other a deeply tanned man with short white hair whose homeland Lacy couldn’t guess.  The tanned man was leaning back in his chair confidently, and again he gestured with one hand for her to come over.

Lacy leaned down slightly and nervously looked around to make sure the man wasn’t actually trying to call someone else.  He smiled at her with a bit of a cocky smirk, and waved for a third time.  Uncomfortable, Lacy headed over, making her way carefully between the crowded tables.  She glanced behind her and saw Babb at the entrance talking with Allar, but neither of them saw her.

When she reached the table with the two men, the tanned man gave a slight wave of his hand in the direction of the chair nearest to Lacy.  He wore a heavy gold ring with a cluster of blue gems on the top, and the gems seemed to glimmer with his gesture.  To Lacy’s surprise, the chair before her pulled itself out from the table, giving her a place to sit.

“Thank you,” Lacy said, smiling and taking a seat.  “Um, . . . Lyceian is alright, isn’t it?  I speak a little Cavalesh if you need me to.”

The tanned man chuckled.

“Whatever works,” he said in Lyceian.  “Here, let me introduce my friend Arthur Berendt, who’s come all the way from Kequalak to visit me.  And I’m Hunter.  Hunter Elrad.  You looked like you could use a little help.”

Lacy nodded.  Her initial impression of Hunter was that he was confident, like nothing could ever bother him.  He was obviously a mage of some sort, and looked fairly strong for one.  In his early thirties, he was rather handsome, wearing an expensive gold-trimmed blue vest over a collarless black shirt.  His arms were bare, and his only piece of jewelry was his ring.

Where Hunter leaned back casually, the man beside him, Arthur, had propped himself up with his elbows on the table.  His hair was actually more of a red-brown than actual red, short enough to stick up like he hadn’t combed it.  He had a casual wariness about him, almost fox-like.  His clothes were expensive but dissheveled, and he wore two rings.  One on his left hand looked like a wedding band, but the one on his right hand had an arc of rubies surrounded by jagged spikes of gold.

Sitting across from the two obviously wealthy men, Lacy felt a glimmer of hope that they wanted to help.

“My name is Lacy Katrina Ursdail,” she said, offering her hand to both of them.  Hunter shook it, and Arthur politely declined as he dipped his head.  It was only then that she realized he was a half-Elf.

“Let me guess,” Arthur said, glancing at her appraisingly.  “You came in with a minotaur and an Elf.  You look beautiful and exotic– though my wife would kill me if she heard that.  Oh, and let’s not forget the longsword and leather armor tastefully stained with spatters of blood.  You must be our waitress.”

Lacy smiled, and Arthur laughed at his own joke.  His laugh was surprisingly high-pitched for a man his age, almost like a giggle.

“Lacy,” Hunter said, “don’t pay any attention to him.  Do you mind if I buy you a drink?”

“That would be wonderful,” she said.

“Wine good for you?”

She nodded.

Hunter sat up a little straighter and caught the attention of the bartender, then mouthed the Cavalesh word for wine with a few miming gestures.  Lacy glanced and saw the bartender grumbling, and Hunter chuckled again.

“Was the guy giving you a hard time?” he asked.

Lacy looked down and sighed.  “We just got off a ship, and we were looking for some place to stay.”

Arthur frowned.  “But you’re adventurers, right?  You’re not based in Seaquen?”

“No.  Elstrice.  We’ve come three thousand miles, and we’ve still got a long way to go.  I forgot how difficult Seaquen could be.”

“They’re just bastards,” Hunter said, grinning for a moment.  “Arthur and I have been around here often enough that they know not to give us a hard time.  If you’d like, I can give you – and you know, your friends too – give you some help around the city.”

The wine arrived, and Lacy shook her head.  “Thank you, honestly, but I hardly know you.  You’ve been very generous and . . .”

She trailed off.  She looked down again, then took a sip of her wine and smiled at Hunter.  “Actually,we probably could use a little help.”

Arthur lightly nudged Hunter with his elbow.  “See?”

“Yeah, right Arthur.”  Hunter did not look at his friend, but smiled at Lacy.  “We were just here having some drinks, but you’ve just been on a ship for, what, a month now?  Down from Magdhat?”

Lacy nodded.

“Great then,” Hunter said.  “Let me buy you dinner, and you can tell me how life as an adventurer has been treating you.  I know I miss the good old days.”

Arthur laughed, and Lacy sensed some sort of inside joke between the two of them.  

She asked, “You were an adventurer?  Who sponsored you?”

“Oh, I ‘sponsored’ myself.”  He shrugged as if it was perfectly normal.  “Did you ever hear about the Nau-Hereth admiral who tried to attack Sunra?  Got his fleet destroyed after burning down most of Sunra?”

“Admiral Gunta?”  Lacy was impressed.  “You fought Admiral Gunta?”

“Oh, no.  What, fight him?  He killed like forty people that day.  I did not want to be forty-one.  No, I just fought a little, trying to do my part as a good citizen.”

Hunter squinted and smiled.  Lacy was having trouble reading the man.

Arthur waved a hand dismissively.  “Don’t let him sell himself short, miss.  Alright, sure, he is a bit of a jerk when he’s not trying to impress ladies, but I do have to give him credit where it’s due.  He sank three of the Nau-Hereth ships that day.  Crashed them on rocks by lowering the water level.”

“I thought so,” Lacy said, smiling knowingly.  She pointed to their rings.  “You’re elementalists, aren’t you?  I saw Salsiere outside helping move a ship out of dock.”

Arthur shook his head, then adopted a mock serious tone.  “Our duty is vitally important to the world.  We are no mere elemental mages.  We are . . . the Elemental Guardians.”

Hunter sighed and Arthur laughed.

“Yeah, Dunne,” Hunter said.  “Everybody knows Dunne.  The old son of a bitch makes sure of it.  But whatever, you know?  I was hoping to hear more about you.”

Lacy blushed.  “There’s a lot more to tell than I ever thought there’d be.  It started with us heading into Upper Kequalak a few months ago, on assignment by-”

“Sorry to interrupt.”  Allar appeared beside her and leaned low.  “Babb and David are about to take Tri’ni to the Wayfarers.  Babb wanted to know if we have a place to stay yet.”

“Oh, of course.”  Lacy saw Arthur and Hunter both looking at Allar, and she sat up straight.  “First, Allar, this is Hunter and Arthur.  They offered me a drink and were asking about our trip . . . or journey, I suppose.”

“‘Journey’ is better,” Hunter said, impassive.

“Hunter, Arthur,” Lacy continued, “this is Allar.  Actually, Allarlaieyo from Tundanesti.  We’ve traveled together for the past four months.”

Allar frowned disapprovingly at Hunter for a moment, but then Arthur laughed and thumped the table.

“Half-Elf too, huh?  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Allar relaxed and nodded to Arthur.  Both of them started to move to shake each other’s hand, then hesitated.  After an awkward moment, Arthur laughed again, and Allar smiled.  People from nearby tables shifted in their seats.  Xaopin were just disliked, but half-Elves were considered bad luck.

“Well,” Allar said, “we need to be going.  It’s been a long voyage, and I could really do for a bed on solid ground.”

Lacy said, “Oh, we’re in no rush.  Hunter had actually offered to help us find a place to stay.  You can guess that most of the people here weren’t very helpful.”

Arthur asked, “Doesn’t your employer have any contacts here in Seaquen?”

“Sadly, no,” Lacy said.  “When we went up to Kequalak, it was through Gate Pass.  We were never even supposed to come through Seaquen.”

Hunter smiled.  “Then it’s our good luck you did.  Allar, grab a seat.  It’s a little early, but let’s have some dinner.  My treat.”

Lacy looked up hopefully to Allar, and when he met her gaze, he gave in and sat down next to her, so that Hunter was across from Lacy, and Allar was across from Arthur.

Allar said, “You are being very nice.  Any particular reason?”

“No,” Hunter shrugged.  “I saw a pretty lady who looked like she needed help, and I can afford to be generous right now.”

“Ah,” Lacy said, covering her mouth.  “That reminds me.  We can’t really afford much.  We hadn’t planned to have to sail back to Elstrice, and we didn’t manage to . . . well, we didn’t loot much from the tomb.”

Allar smiled.  “Yeah.  Probably one of the biggest failures of any adventure ever.”

Arthur laughed his near-giggle.

Lacy continued, “Do you know a cheap tavern we could stay at?  Maybe something to the south?  Not too far, hopefully, because we did want to get some things done in the city.”

“Oh, if you need a place to stay – there’s, what, five of you?  I know a few places on the north shore you could stay at.  I’m friends with a few innkeepers, and I could probably manage to get you free room and board.”

Allar shook his head.  “Look, thanks and all, but we really-”

“Wait,” Lacy said softly.  “Hunter’s being generous.  It would be rude not to accept.”

“Great,” Hunter said, cutting off Allar before he could reply.  “Go tell your friends to meet us in a few hours at a place called the _Decanter Inn_, on Fontana Street.  We’ll have dinner and then head over.”

Lacy smiled and stood up, taking another sip of wine.  “I’ll be right back.”

She left the three of them sitting together.

“You’re wizards?” Allar asked.

“Elemental Guardians,” Arthur said with a grin.  “Hey, just curious.  That Lacy woman, is she seeing anyone?”

“Why?”

Hunter held up a hand for Arthur to be quiet.  The motion was very slight, but Arthur immediately relaxed.  Hunter leaned forward and squinted at Allar, then nodded to himself.

“You weren’t planning to make a move any time soon,” Hunter said.  “She’s only going to be here for a few days, and I want to make sure she remembers her time here for something other than, you know, getting mean looks.”

Allar glared at Hunter.  “What, you’re going to try to seduce her?  What kind of  thing-”

“Relax, friend, relax.”  Hunter glanced around, but Lacy was still outside talking to Babb.  He dropped his voice to a whisper anyway.  “She obviously doesn’t get paid much attention to.  Romantically, I mean.  I’m sure with her armor off she’s beautiful and voluptuous-”

Allar nodded with a wistful smile.

“-and she has some nice hips, but . . . you know it and I know it.  She like seven feet tall, and she’s Xaopin.  Most guys would never go for that.  It takes a big man to appreciate a woman like her.  I mean a _big_ man.  And you’re only five-seven.”

Allar scoffed.  “Leave her alone.  We’ve had some hard times on our trip, and you coming in and-”

Lacy came back then and took her seat again.  “Babb, David, and Tri’ni are heading off to the Wayfarer’s Theater.  They said they’d let us know when the performances would be.”

Arthur giggled, and Allar glared at the two of them.

“Sound good,” Allar said.  Lacy wondered what had gotten him so tense.

“You’re going to see the Wayfarers?” Hunter asked, smirking confidently.  “That is interesting.  That’s a pretty big expense for people so worried about affording a place to sleep.”

Lacy blushed and looked at Allar.  “Actually, Allar said he’d take me.”

Hunter said, “Then maybe I’ll see you there.  And if _Allar_ is too busy, I would love the opportunity to escort you to the theater.”

Lacy felt Allar bristle beside her, and she beamed, amazed that Allar was jealous over her.  “Hunter, if you want to come along anyway, you’re welcome to.”

Allar started to say something, but Hunter interrupted him.

“Excellent.  Let’s order some food, then, and you can tell me how adventuring is doing without me.”


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 28, 2005)

*Episode Five: The Bigger Man, Part I, Section III*

The Wayfarer guiding them was the thinnest and yet most muscular man Tri’ni had ever seen.  He looked like a stretched rope, covered with clothing with so many ribbons and buckles it must have taken him an hour to get dressed.  As he walked, he proudly displayed a vividly painted staff like it was a badge of office.  He was talking with David and Babb in Lyceian, and though Tri’ni was having trouble following the conversation, she could tell the man seemed amused by David.

They headed downstairs from the main deck, into the hold, from which hundreds of people were streaming out, leaving behind rows of empty chairs.  Some were still applauding, and fifty feet away, magical light on the stage illuminated a half dozen people in costumes even more elaborate than their guide’s.  Two women standing beside each other looked like, if one stood on the other’s shoulders, their costumes would make a walking tree.

The stage was twenty feet square, with deep crimson curtains framing its sides, and a a painted wooden wall for its back.

“Kirtsa is backstage,” their guide said.

“She’s the manager?” David asked.

“Yes, yes.  She used to be the leading actress.  Oh God, how I used to fantasize about her.  All that smooth flesh pressed tight in whatever costume the show called for.  She’s the reason I had to join the Wayfarers.”

David shifted uncomfortably and Babb laughed.  They were nearly to the stage now, and an actor walked past Tri’ni wearing only brown body paint and leaves in his hair.  She stopped for a moment, until she saw him wipe the paint off his face, revealing pale skin.  Tri’ni sighed, then hurried to catch up with Babb and David.

“They’re all very pretty,” she whispered to Babb.

Babb gave a frustrated snort.  “Not exactly my type of women.”

Tri’ni nodded.  “Not Geidon.”

“What?” Babb said.  “No.  Hey, I grew up with humans.  No, they’re just too thin for me.  I like my women more . . . damn, what was that word?  It was all long and started with V.”

Tri’ni shrugged, her attention momentarily caught by a set of metal wires dangling from the ceiling, holding up a ball of flaming pitch.  The whole theater was distracting in its complexity.  But Babb’s voice pulled her out of her daze.

“But yeah,” he said, “Lacy used to have this thing for one of the actors.  She went to at least a dozen of his shows.  She tried talking to him once, but he couldn’t stand Xaopin.  It broke her heart.  She hasn’t been back to one of these shows for two years.”

“That is . . . very bad?” Tri’ni fished for the right word from her limited vocabulary.  “She must have been sad.”

“Eh, Lace gets over things pretty easy now.  You know, she’d have to, seeing how often. . . .  Well, , anyway, it kind of pissed me off when she stopped coming.  I kinda liked the shows too.  Don’t tell her that, though.”

“Don’t worry, not a chance.”

Their guide led them behind the curtains on the side of the stage, then around the back wall to a hallway.  The ship had much more space than it looked like it should have from the outside, and they had passed several doors before they finally stopped.

Their guide said, “Kirtsa likes to be flattered.  True, she deserves it, that luscious bitch, but it doesn’t hurt to lay it on a little heavy.  Even if you never did, tell her you used to love her singing back when she performed.  Good luck.”

The man knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” a woman called back, her voice fast but smooth.

“Bruno,” their guide said.  “There are some visitors who wanted to talk with you before things got too hectic.”

The door opened, and a somewhat old human woman leaned out.  Her hair was long, dark, and curly, and she was dressed in a loose black shirt.  She was pretty for a human, even if she looked angry.  Her gaze took in each of them, first Tri’ni, then low to see David, then back high to see Babb bedecked in his armor.

“I’m already hectic,” the woman said.  “What do you want?”

Tri’ni shifted nervously and looked down to David for help.

“Lady Kirtsa?”  David bowed to her.  “As you might guess, we’re interested in becoming involved with your performances.”

Kirtsa smiled incredulously at David, then glanced to Bruno, their guide.

“Who are these guys?  No offense to you, sorry for not asking you yourselves, but I’m trying to decide whether Bruno will get to perform any time in the next three months.”

Bruno shook his head.  “The gnome wanted to know about joining.  He says he’s an adventurer looking to settle down.  This young woman here is also interested in joining, but she doesn’t speak Cavalesh, barely understands Lyceian, and was hoping we’d teach her magic.  The minotaur, well, I don’t know why he’s here.”

Kirtsa stared at Bruno for a long moment, silent, and then she shook her head and smiled.  With bared teeth she said, “I’m going to hurt you.”

Bruno shrugged.  “I thought you’d get a laugh out of them.”

Tri’ni frowned, then smiled to Kirtsa.

“Whatever,” Kirtsa said.  “Come on in.  Bruno, go tell Miguel to meet me before he runs off to get dinner.  That damned magic act needs some work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And tell him not to bring the rabbits this time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And stop calling me ma’am.  I’m only thirty-seven.”

“Of course, your bountifully youthful generousness.”

Kirtsa sighed as Bruno trotted off, and then she waved them inside.  She offered them seats on a softly-cushioned couch, and she sat across from them in an even more comfortable looking chair.  The entire room was soft, and the air smelled like something Tri’ni had smelled on the surface, but did not know the name for.

“So,” Kirtsa said.  She tightened her lips for a moment, and Tri’ni noticed a flash of magic cross her eyes as she tried to see if there was any enchantments on them.

“No magic,” Kirtsa said.  “That’s something, at least.  So, I’m sorry to be brisk about this, but we do have to prepare for tonight’s performance.  What do you want with me?”

David said, “Lady Kirtsa, two things, actually.  First-”

Babb interrupted.  “First, hey, let me say, I came here a few times when I was younger, and I used to love when you performed.  The show’s aren’t nearly as good anymore.”

“Oh,” Kirtsa said, bitterness in her voice.  “Thank you, so so much.”

David cleared his throat.  “I’m sorry.  I know you’re busy, so I’ll be brief.  We’re adventurers, or at least we were.  I’m planning to end as soon as I get back to my employer in Elstrice, and I when I saw your theater today I thought I should see if there’d be a place for me with your group.  Something a little less dangerous, but where I can still use my magical skills.”

Tri’ni noticed Kirtsa kept glancing at her while David talked.

“Can you perform?” Kirtsa asked.

“Well,” David chuckled, “I’ve never really tried.  I was thinking more that I could help more with things like design.  My family has a long tradition of using, controlling, and seeing through illusions, and I know how much the Wayfarers like to meddle with people’s expectations of what is magic and what isn’t.”

Kirtsa nodded.  “And let me guess.  You were also hoping to learn how to teleport.  Maybe steal some secrets before you change your mind and go back to ‘adventuring,’ only now with a few extra magic toys to play with?  Really, I’ve heard this all before.”

“Oh, no.”  David shook his head.  “That’s not it at all.  I really, honestly, seriously am getting fed up with ‘adventuring.’  My best friend has a soul-stealing sword, I was almost eaten by an undead snake monster, and the last man who hired us for a job ended up attacking us, then ran off without paying.  I’ve always respected-”

“Sure, uh huh, whatever.”  Kirtsa shrugged.  She eyed Tri’ni.  “What’s her story?  You speak Lyceian?”

“A little,” Tri’ni said. “My name is Tri’ni Gren’eys.  I’m Taranesti.  I came to the surface with them after we killed a dragon monster.  I know you don’t trust my friend, but this is the first time I had heard of your Wayfarers.  Your ship is beautiful, and everyone says good things about the . . . the performances you do.”

Tri’ni had intended to inject a gratuitous tone of wonder in her voice to try to make Kirtsa trust her, but she found that the wonder came naturally.  The place truly was a marvel to her.  Kirtsa smiled at her pridefully.

“Your skin is too dark to be Kohalesti,” Kirtsa said.  “And I can’t place your accent.  You’re really from underground?  You know any good stories from down there?  And I’m not trying to say that your people, whatever they are, don’t have good stories.  It’s just that I’ve never heard any of them.  Wait, nevermind.”

Tri’ni frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

The Wayfarer shook her head, then stood and stretched.  “Look, if you want to join, you have to be able to perform.  Even stage hands can cartwheel, or dance, or sing.  We don’t just take anyone, you know.  If you were really interested, you’d be out performing now in bars and villages, and maybe we’d hear about you and want to see if you’re any good.  Now, you’re not nearly as funny as I’m sure Bruno thought you’d be, so I must be going.  Or actually, you must be going, because I need to stay here.”

Babb started to stand, grumbling under his breath.  David and Tri’ni exchanged glances, and Tri’ni bit her lip.

“I want to learn magic,” she said.  “The magic you do is beautiful.  It looks like you’re so free, like you can fly.  I’m going to learn even if I have to teach myself, but I want to see what you can do, so I can see what I really want to do.”

Kirtsa crossed her arms and smiled.  “I like you.  You can’t join us – we’re far too busy with performances during the summer – but you’re motivated, which is good, because most people aren’t.  When you leave, find Bruno and tell him to give you a ticket to a show later this week.  Come back when you’re learned to speak Cavalesh and Elstrician, and if you can do the things we have on stage, I’ll consider having someone train you.”

“Thank you,” Tri’ni said, hiding her disappointment.

“Yes, thank you,” David said.

“Yeah, well,” Kirtsa sighed, “we don’t normally have many gnomes.  Except the funny ones.  I hope you enjoy the performance, but I really do need to do things.  Business and such.”

The three of them thanked her a few more times as they left, and Babb closed the door behind them with a heavy slam.

“So?” Babb said.  “Where to next?”

Tri’ni turned away.  In Taranesti she muttered, “This is a waste of time.”


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 29, 2005)

*Episode Five: The Bigger Man, Pt. I, Section IV*

Lacy could see that, more than anything right now, Allar wanted to talk to her alone.  So of course she stayed near to Hunter, sitting at the edge of the ferry.  Dozens of lanterns flooded the small ship with light, even though the sun was not quite yet set.  They were mid-harbor now, heading toward the northern shore where Hunter had said he could find them a place to stay.  Four men rowed the flat-bellied boat, and amid the chatter of other passengers, Lacy could hear Arthur talking amiably at Allar while Allar tried to watch her without looking.

“Isn’t that beautiful?” Hunter said.  

Lacy looked at him with surprise.  He had whispered as if they were the only two on the croweded boat.  Leaning close, he pointed west to the setting sun as it passed behind two of Seaquen’s bridges.

“The canal here winds west to east for twenty miles total, but this stretch of canal is straight for seven miles.  At the right time of year, our shadows would stretch all the way to the far side of the city.”

“What day is that?” she asked.  She wanted to sound sultry.  “I might have to stay.”

“No idea, actually,” Hunter laughed, no longer attempting such heavy-handed romance.  “Why don’t you stay behind anyway?  Won’t take more than a year.”

She laughed and leaned into him casually.  She could never lean against Allar.

*	*	*

Tri’ni came up on deck first, blinking at the fiery gold of the sunset.  She sighed and walked toward the railing, trying to get closer to the brilliant sky.  The Wayfarer’s theater ship was long, and she was fully to the forecastle before she heard David calling for her.  That returned her to all the questions she had hoped to leave behind, and she tensed.  Again she felt cold, even though this city was hotter than any she had ever been to before.

David came up behind her with trepidation.  She could hear his timidity even above the heavy thumping of Babb’s hooves on the deck.

“Tri’ni,” David said.  “Come on.  We should meet up with the others.  I don’t know how the city gets after sunset.”

Babb huffed.  “More fun than this.  I think we should take Trin out for some drinks.”

“Goodness no,” David said.  “She’s too young.”

“She’s eight years older than me,” Babb said, laughing.  “Hey Trin, come on though.  Let’s get off this ship.”

Tri’ni looked back to the sunset.  She asked, “Where is the magic in that?”

David said, “That’s just a sunset.  You’ve seen lots of those.”

Babb put a hand on her shoulder, and she reached up to hold onto it for a moment.  She felt suddenly overwhelmed.  The world was too big, too open, and she felt like she was falling through it and would never find her place.  She heard Babb tell David to give her a moment.

She cried for a moment, then wiped her eyes with her fingers and wiped her fingers on her shoulder.  Babb pulled his hand away, and they both laughed nervously.  She was about to apologize to him – she cried so often, and she knew they were uncomfortable with it – when she saw a boat passing by them sixty feet away, with something following it, seeming to pull down the water.

*	*	*

“Trouble,” Allar said, sitting up straight suddenly and glancing to the rear of the ferry.

Hunter, who was leaning back with one arm over the railing, picked his hand out the water and nodded.  “Yep.  Invisible boat.”

“What?” Lacy gasped.

The ferry rocked as some struck it from behind, and from empty air appeared a wide rowboat laden with a dozen men.  Those at the oars stood and picked up swords at their feet;  two men at the front tossed grappling hooks to connect the two ships, sending the passengers on Lacy’s ship into a panic.  

From the rear of the other ship, a brown-skinned Dorisian man in whirling blue robes shouted, “Attack!  Sieze the white-haired mage!”

“Yep,” Hunter said.  “That’s Chester.”

Hunter leapt up from his seat and held one hand high, his ring flashing with blue light.  With his other hand he made a sweeping motion, and the other ship rocked as the canal heaved beneath it.  Three of the attackers tumbled overboard, but they landed on the water as if it were solid ground, though they looked surprised to not be drowning.

“Nice trick Chester,” Hunter called, casually waving his hand.  The three men sank into the water as nature intended.  “But, um, _I’m_ the water mage here.”

The passengers at the front of the ferry set up a crazed din of screams, some of them jumping overboard to escape the attack.  Lacy had stood up, but was fumbling trying to undo the peace-bond on her sword.  Allar slit his peace-bond with a belt dagger and leapt past her and Hunter, drawing the black scimitar to keep the attackers at bay.

“Who are these guys?” Allar shouted.  “Hunter?”

“Hold a moment!” shouted the Dorisian man to his crew.

The nine unarmored men on the ship stood in two rows with swords in their hands, ready to rush past Allar to reach Hunter, while the three in the water struggled back aboard their own ship weaponless.  The passengers on the ferry crowded at the far end of the ship, as far as possible from the coming battle.

Arthur came up beside Lacy, beginning the motions to cast a spell.  

Hunter held up a hand, unconcerned.  “No rush.  Let him make his speech.  He gets a kick out of it.”

Paying no heed to Hunter’s words, the opposing mage held his hands forward, fingers clenching the air, as if he wanted to show physically that he was trying to make a grab for power.  Tossing back his clean-shaven head and puffing out his chest, he thrust out a hand dramatically.  The passengers behind them cringed and gasped, but Lacy felt for a moment like laughing.

“I am Chesteval of the Crescent Islands, and my quarrel is with the hydromancer, not you.”

“Right,” Allar said, waving his sword at the warriors waiting to attack.  “It’s these guys with you who have the quarrel with us.  Got it.”

“Do not mock me,” Chesteval shouted.  “It is I who shall be the elemental master of water.”

Arthur choked on his own laughter and turned to Hunter.  “I really hope this guy doesn’t replace you.”

“So Hunter,” Allar called over his shoulder with a laugh, “you like having rivals, don’t you?”

Still seeming unconcerned with Chesteval, Hunter frowned.  “No.  No, I’m pretty sure this is my only one.  Were you thinking I had another?”

Lacy felt a pang of sympathy as Allar’s shoulders slumped slightly.  Hunter was being a bit heavy-handed.  Plus, it had been a long time since she had seen Allar fight, and he had always been dazzling to behold.  

She turned to Hunter briefly to catch his eye, then said, “Allar, clear a path through the guards so we can hit the mage.”

Simultaneously she heard Allar mutter, “All nine of them?” while Hunter said, “Hey, I can hit ‘im from here.”

“Enough!” Chesteval shouted.

With a crinkle of his fingers, the enemy mage conjured a sphere of icy shards before him, then hurled it at Allar.


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 31, 2005)

*Episode Five: The Bigger Man, Section V*

“,” Babb said.  “That’s Lacy and Al down there.”

David ran to the edge of the railing to see the battle between the two ships, as did everyone within earshot.  Tri’ni leapt up onto the railing, holding onto a rigging line for balance.

She shook her head in surprise.  She could just barely make out the shouts of the mage on the attacking ship, and a moment later she spotted who he must be talking to, another mage with white hair.  She unclasped her cloak and started untying the bond on her dagger.

“Trin,” Babb said, seeing what she was doing.  “Dammit, don’t tell me you’re about to-”

She left enough twine on her dagger to keep it in its sheath when she was swimming.  “We need to help.  Come on!”

Babb looked down at his full suit of armor.  “I’ll catch up.”

Tri’ni blew a quick huff, then took a deep breath.  She leapt from the deck of Wayfarer’s Theater to cheers.

*	*	*​
Lacy thought she heard cheering in the distance as Allar spun to the deck to dodge the magical projectile.  His leap was magnificent, his body a wonder to behold as he spun out of the way of the attack, his reflexes reacting so quickly Lacy hardly saw the attack before Allar was on the deck, out of harm’s way.  

Unfortunately, this left Lacy in the projectile’s path, and she could not react fast enough.  The shards of ice slammed into her chest, tearing across her leather armor and knocking her to the deck.  For a moment, all she could do was lie stunned with the wind knocked out of her.  She slowly pushed herself up enough to see the fight, but she could barely move otherwise.

“Hey!” was Hunter’s only exclamation as he began to cast a spell back at Chesteval.

With Allar down, the warriors on the other ship leapt across the narrow gap and rushed toward Hunter, but Allar kicked out and tripped one of the men, then shoved off the deck with his free hand, slashing at a second man.  The man parried with an awkward block, and the black scimitar cut through his sword like water.  If Allar had not stopped in surprise he would have cut into the man as well.  Suddenly deprived of a sword, the man screamed and staggered backward, tripping over the railing and into the water.

Hunter swung a hand to try to capsize the attackers with a sudden wave, but Chesteval countered his spell, laughing deeply.  A moment later Arthur snapped his fingers and flames burst around the enemy mage, igniting his clothes.  Chesteval shouted in pain for a moment, but then he reversed his counterspell against Hunter, and the wave crashed higher, over the deck and over him, putting out the flames.

Arthur grumbled and took cover behind a bench, while Hunter hopped over the side of the boat and simply stood on the surface of the water, out of reach of swords.  Lacy weakly pressed a hand to her chest and healed herself, then staggered to her feet.  The attack had torn loose part of her breastplate, leaving an undershirt as her only armor over her heart.  She wanted to try to fix it, but she could see Allar was being pressed, and she struggled to ready her sword.

At the gap between the two ships, Allar was back on his feet, whirling his sword back to front, trying to fend off two from one direction and the one who had slipped past him.  The warrior to his back chopped for Allar’s shoulder, and Allar dodged to the side; but then the two to his front attacked separately from high and low, and Allar had to parry the high chop down to block the low slash, binding the three weapons for a moment.

Pivoting on one foot, Allar ducked under a slash from the man behind him, then grabbed his arm and pulled him close.  Allar slammed his knee into the man’s stomach, then wrenched his scimitar free from the three-weapon bind in the other direction.  He heaved his weight into the man behind him, and they fell to the deck together.  The two other warriors leapt after them and stabbed down at Allar, but he rolled their ally’s body above him as a shield, and their blades pierced his back.

Allar tossed the slumping body away and kicked backward awkwardly, slapping aside the blades that chased him as he tried to stand up.  He finally found his footing beside Lacy, and he smiled sheepishly to her.  The two warriors before them hesitated for a moment, but then one gestured to Lacy, leering at the tear in the armor over her breasts.

Lacy pouted briefly at the warriors, then straightened as tall as she could, so her shoulders were at the warriors’s eye level.  She thrust out with her sword at one of the men, and though the blow was parried, the warrior left himself open to Allar.  A moment later the man’s arm lay severed on the deck.

Hunter, Chesteval, and Arthur were exchanging insults, though Lacy was having trouble following them all.  Chesteval had deflected or countered several of Arthur’s fire spells, so the pyromancer was now focusing his power at the few warriors who had not yet made it to the boat Lacy was on.  Flames blazed across them, and they took the easy road to safety, leaping into the harbor.

Hunter and Chesteval fired blasts of water, crashing waves, or streams of acid back and forth at each other, but neither water mage had any trouble avoiding, counterspelling, or ignoring the attacks.  Unhappily, Hunter began to run across the water toward the back of Chesteval’s boat.  As he passed a warrior who was struggling to keep afloat, Hunter dropped down, plunged an arm through the surface of the water, and pulled forth a dagger from the warrior’s sheath.

“A simple blade, Hunter?” Chesteval mocked.  “You so easily abandon your magic.  This proves that I am the better water mage!”

Chesteval hurled a sphere of ice at Hunter, which he casually dispelled.  Hunter knelt low beside the warrior struggling to keep afloat, and pressed the dagger to his throat.  To the warriors still on the boat, he shouted, “Hey!  If you don’t want your friend to die, you’d better turn around and attack that  who hired you.”

Lacy almost cheered, which nearly earned her a sword in the chest.  Allar leapt in the way and batted the blade aside, then lunged and slashed at the warrior, cutting into his chest.  The man fell away gurgling.

Allar shouted, “I don’t think these guys are actually friends.”

“Dammit,” Hunter said.

He was about to stand up when he cried out.  Lacy turned and saw a dark-skinned arm reaching up out of the water, stabbing a dagger into Hunter’s thigh.  A moment later, Tri’ni surfaced, brandishing the dagger at Hunter.

“Let the man go,” she commanded, sputtering water.

The warrior Hunter had at knife point screamed and looked up desperately at Hunter.  “Hey!  She’s not with me.  Don’t kill me.”

“Tri’ni,” Lacy shouted, “he’s on our side.  Don’t . . . don’t stab him again.”

Tri’ni looked at Lacy with confusion, not noticing that Chesteval was performing an elaborate spell.  There were still four warriors between Lacy and the enemy mage, so all she could do was shout a warning.  The water around Tri’ni and Hunter began to swirl and dip, and when Hunter tried to counter the spell he shook his hand and shrieked in pain as Tri’ni’s Elvish aura disrupted his magic.

The sudden whirlpool sucked the hapless warrior Hunter had been threatening under the surface, and Tri’ni was struggling to stay afloat.  Still standing on the now sinking surface of the water, Hunter grabbed Tri’ni’s arm and yanked her up and onto his shoulder, then sprinted for cover behind Lacy and Allar.  He dumped her bodily onto the boat, then slumped, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“Hey there,” he said, smiling to Tri’ni.  He offered his hand.  “Hunter Elrad.  You a friend of theirs?”

“Sorry,” Tri’ni said.

“Now’s not the time,” Allar called back to them, working to parry attacks against both himself and Lacy.

The remaining four warriors were now on the ferry, pressing close to Lacy and Allar.  The boat was only wide enough for two people to fight abreast, but one of the opposing warriors leaned over the side of the boat, grabbed hold of one of the thick vertical poles that held a lantern, and swung over the water to go around Allar and flank him.  Allar tried to slash at the pole to dump the man into the water, but he was a moment too slow, and the warrior came down with his sword on Allar’s back, cutting deep.

Lacy cried out when she saw Allar struck, and she turned to try to heal him, leaving herself open.  The warrior she had been fighting grabbed her left arm and tried to plunge his sword into her throat, but suddenly Hunter leapt across the deck and slammed into the man’s legs, knocking him down.  Lacy shook free of his grasp, but she had to swing at a different warrior to keep Hunter from getting stabbed in the back.  Hunter slammed his knee repeatedly into the groin of the warrior he had tackled, then grabbed the man and dragged him overboard.

Allar was still struggling to defend himself despite a gash in his back, and he maneuvered around the warrior who had attacked him, making sure the man was facing away from Tri’ni.  A moment later the man gurgled in pain and clutched at a dagger in his back.  Allar and Tri’ni nervously nodded to each other, and then they both turned to lend aid to Lacy.

There were only two warriors left standing, and Arthur, still unharmed from the entire combat, casually clapped his hands and brought down a wave of flame upon them from the sky.  Screaming from the flames, the men jumped overboard.

Alone on the other boat, Chesteval shook his fist at them.

“Your allies have won you this fight, Hunter, but next-”

“Shut up,” Hunter shouted.  “Maybe you wouldn’t be running if you hired some competent allies.  And hire someone to write a good villainous speech for you next time!” 

Chesteval turned away pompously.  A fog began to rise up from the sea, and they watched the hidden shape of Chesteval’s boat retreat under cover.  Arthur ran to the aft of the ferry, comfortably ignoring the flames he had created there.

“After him,” the fire mage said.  “I bet he’d _love_ to have his house burned down.”

When no one supported his suggestion, he glanced back, and the disappointment on his face was clear.

“Sorry folks,” Hunter said, turning to the rest of the passengers and crew, huddled at the front of the ferry.  “Gimme a minute to drag these guys out of the water, and we can all get back to the safety of dry land.  You can stop screaming in terror now.”

Hunter stepped out onto the water, then turned to look at Lacy.

“Nicely done,” he said, flashing a smile.  “You’re the kind of woman I always wished I could adventure with.”

Lacy beamed, but as soon as Hunter turned away, she quickly moved beside Allar to heal him.  She knelt and smiled weakly to him, then reached for his wound.  He touched her hand, then cupped it in his other hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  “Heal your own wounds first.”

She laughed.  “You’re even worse off than me.  Romance can wait until when you’re not bleeding.”

“Romance?” Allar stammered.  “I . . . well, yeah, I suppose it can.”

She put a finger to her lips to quiet him, then moved her hand to his back.  She whispered, “Be still.  This will probably hurt us both.”


----------



## RangerWickett (Feb 1, 2005)

*Episode Five - The Bigger Man, Part I, Section VI*

Gathered together again safely, the group celebrated surviving the scuffle.  Though the fight had worried Lacy at the time, now that it was over, Babb was laughing at nearly everything that had happened.

“, you actually cut off his arm?”

Lacy laughed at Babb’s exuberance.  Allar just looked embarrassed.

“Well,” Allar said, “This sword is . . . it’s just too sharp, I think.  Really, it’s not so much my skill as how good the sword is.”

“Bah,” Babb scoffed.  “You put me to shame today.  Even if I had been there, I would’ve just fallen my ass in the water and drowned.  You took down twelve guys!”

“They took down five,” Lacy said.  “Allar got four, and Tri’ni one.  Arthur and Hunter got the rest.”

Allar shrugged.  “Well, I’m just glad there were enough witnesses to prove it was self-defense.  I do not want to get arrested on Hunter’s behalf.”

Hunter was standing relaxed with them, in the common area of their suite at the inn.  He had smoothed things over when the city guard had arrived; one of the guardsmen actually seemed to be his friend.  To Lacy’s surprise, most of the guards had been more amused than worried by the attack.  After losing a coin toss to Hunter, Arthur had gone off with the guard to deal with the paperwork of arresting their attackers.

“Hey, sorry for getting you involved,” Hunter said.  “Chester thinks he can take my place in the Elementalists.  It used to be that if you defeated the current mage, you could take his place.  The idiot doesn’t realize we don’t do things that way anymore.”

Lacy asked, “Can the guard actually arrest him?”

Hunter shrugged.  “I’ll deal with it.  Hopefully he’ll get the point before he gets himself killed.  If they do catch him, they’ll cut off his hands so he can’t cast spells.  Doesn’t matter if he does get my position.”

David, who had been looking guilty for not having helped out, said, “I’m just relieved nobody got hurt.  Well, not hurt much, at least.  But Allar’s used to injury.”

Allar smiled back at David’s sarcasm.  His shirt was off so Lacy could apply a dressing to the wound on his back.  Her healing magic had caused more harm than good to him, but he was in good spirits.  His skin was warm to her touch, and it pleased her that at least for the moment she did not have to worry that being in contact with him would disrupt her magic.

“Speaking of injuries,” Hunter said, glancing at Tri’ni.

He let his words hang for a moment, and Tri’ni nervously looked at the tear in his pant leg where she had stabbed him in the thigh.  She smiled endearingly, then hesitated.  His wound was healed, and the water mage had cleaned out the blood with a flick of his hand.

Hunter continued, “You did a pretty good job taking out that one guy from behind.  On the ship.”

He grinned, his tone showing that he was not angry about the accidental attack.  Tri’ni smirked back.

Lacy said happily, “You look proud of yourself.”

“Yes,” Tri’ni said.  “It, um . . . it felt good to be doing something.”

Hunter leaned next to Lacy.  “So, this is the girl you were talking about.  She’s got spirit.  I like her.”

“You should,” Tri’ni said matter-of-factly.

Hunter laughed.  “Damn, you and Vic would get along great.  I’d better keep you away from him, though.  He might act improperly to a young lady.”

“Another rival of yours?” Allar asked.

“No,” Hunter said.  “I told you I’ve only got the one rival.  Vic’s my water boy.”

To the collection of confused expressions, Hunter explained.

“Vic – Victorious – is my nephew, and my apprentice.  But he’s only fifteen years old, and he still thinks he has to prove himself to me.  So I keep him busy with an irrigation project on my island.  It teaches him how water works, makes him think, gets him out of my hair.”

“You own an island?” Lacy asked, awed.

Babb huffed.  “It’s probably not even a big one.”

“You want to come visit?”  Hunter glanced to Allar, then leaned down close to Lacy.  “Because I can get us there in, like, an hour.”

Lacy blushed even though she knew Hunter had intended more to goad Allar than to entice her.  Before she could reply, Tri’ni spoke.

“You can teleport too?  That doesn’t seem very much like a water power.”

Hunter paused, briefly looked stymied, then said, “You are right!  I can only do it over water.  Let me guess: you were at the Wayfarer’s today.  They impressed you, did they?”

David said, “We’re trying to find a tutor for Tri’ni, to teach her magic.”

“Huh,” Hunter said.  He looked off for a moment, thinking.  “I wonder . . . no, no.  He’d just get all pissed again.”

“What is it?” Lacy asked.

Shaking his head, Hunter waved off the question.  “I was going to say that Dunne needs an apprentice.  Dunne’s the air mage in our group, and he’s very old-”

“We know,” Babb groaned.  “Lacy’s rambled on and on about him.”

Allar held up a hand.  “Well, wait a moment.  If he needs an apprentice, what’s the problem?”

“Dunne, he. . . .”  Hunter hesitated, like he was not sure if he should reveal a secret.  “Dunne hasn’t had an apprentice since before I joined the order.  He’s had a dozen or more in the six hundred years he’s been in the order, and they all were killed for one reason or another.”

Lacy drew in a breath.  “I can see why everyone says he’s bitter now.”

David snickered.  “I’d be a little bitter if I were that old too.”

Babb laughed, but the rest of the group glared at him.  

David shrugged.  “Would he be against just meeting Tri’ni?”

Hunter considered, then saw Tri’ni’s eager expression.  He laughed.  “I’ll tell him how she attacked me.  That will probably earn her a few points.  

Looking serious, he added, “He’s a mean son of a bitch, just so you know, but I’ll see what I can do.  Shouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment Tri’ni looked ready to clap, but then she faltered and looked down.  Lacy watched as Babb put his hand on her shoulder, and she wondered what had happened with the Wayfarers.

“Are we still planning to go to a show of the Wayfarers?” Lacy asked.  “Hunter mentioned he might be going.”

“They said we could come for free,” Tri’ni said with forced enthusiasm.  “Evening of the day after tomorrow.”

Lacy smiled back at her encouragingly.  “Good.  Good.  Hunter, we have enough to keep us busy for tomorrow, certainly.  But if you could tell us how to reach Dunne, we could take Tri’ni the day after tomorrow, then meet afterward at the theater?”

Hunter looked intrigued.  “I’ll send directions by tomorrow evening.  Sounds wonderful.  I’ll be there.  I just hope my rival doesn’t show up.”

He waved and turned to leave.  As he passed Allar he said, “I meant Chester, by the way.”

With a wave of his hand, the door opened for Hunter, then closed as he left.  Allar tensed and released a frustrated sigh, and Lacy softly rubbed his shoulders to relax him.

*	*	*​
It had been a long time since she had come, and the temple had been hard for Lacy to find so late at night, but Seaquen had followers of any religion one could find in the world.  Vanessi’s temple here was small, in a cluster of religious buildings devoted to the old Seren pantheon.  It felt more like home than anywhere she had been for the past two years.

Vanessi was one of the eight children of the sun – four gods, four goddesses – and she had always been jealous of her sister Meliska.  Both sisters cherished births and the protection of life, but Meliska also held power over the day, so she was more loved by their father.  Vanessi’s strongest domain was the power of nature; capricious though nature could be, Vanessi promoted that being in control of the world around oneself was the best way to bring good fortune.  It was this belief Lacy had always had trouble with, for she seldom felt in control.

Now she was praying, kneeling before a flaming brazier.  Her offering was meager – a sheet of paper on which she had written her promise to take control of her feelings for Allar, after she had experienced what Hunter offered her.  Vanessi did favor lovemaking, after all.

She folded the piece of paper, recited its words silently to herself, then tossed it into the flames.

“What was that?” a voice asked in Cavalesh.

Lacy turned to see the young priest who was tending the temple this night.  He was a local, of Cavaleshi stock, and she looked down, worried that he would want her to leave because she was Xaopin.

“I was just making an offering to Vanessi,” she said.

“You’re Lyceian,” he said, noting her accent.  “It’s an honor to have you here, sister.”

She frowned.  “I . . . it sounded like you wanted me to leave.”

The man clapped lightly and laughed.  “Oh, no.  Most people simply toss in coins.  Oh, please, don’t think I’m angry.  If you could have given, I’m certain you would have.”

She looked down, then laughed weakly herself.  “To be honest, I was worried that you were angry because I was Xaopin.”

“Oh,” he said.  “Don’t be silly.  Not everyone here in Seaquen is like that.  Actually, I think you’re kind of pretty.”

She smiled politely, but the compliment did not please her.  Lately more than enough people had been noticing how she looked.  No one ever seemed to care to really talk to her.  She started to sigh, then remembered her pledge to the goddess.

Steeling herself, she stood up and looked down at the young priest.

“Oh, my,” the man said.  She knew he was surprised to see how tall she was, but that did not worry her.

“Why do you worship Vanessi?” Lacy asked, moving closer.

The man stammered, scratching the back of his neck.  “I, um . . . oh, I like how she, um, helps us be in control.  Of our lives, that is.”

She smiled at the irony of the man’s nervousness, but looked into his eyes, so he would think she was smiling for him.  She put a hand on his shoulder, and another on his hand, and the man gaped, looking up to her.

“I was at another temple,” Lacy said softly, “far to the north.  The priestesses of Vanessi there had a very special ritual.”

To help the man, she guided his hand to the small of her back.  He slid his hand slowly up her back, then down, moving just barely closer.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

She leaned close, pressing against him.  Across his lips she whispered, “Making an offering.”


----------



## Graywolf-ELM (Feb 1, 2005)

Boy someone revved up her engine.  You've been at it quite a bit lately.  Is the campaign coming to an end?

GW


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## RangerWickett (Feb 1, 2005)

The campaign ended 8 years ago.  This is a retelling and serious re-tooling to give it a much more novel-esque feel.


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## Graywolf-ELM (Feb 1, 2005)

Ok, cool.  Are you nearing the end of the story then?

GW


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## RangerWickett (Feb 1, 2005)

Nope.  I'm about a quarter-finished.  Think of it like a TV season.  Each episode is really one episode of the show.


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## RangerWickett (Feb 1, 2005)

*Episode Five - The Bigger Man, Part I, Section VII*

Tri’ni sat at the window of their suite, looking out onto the softly glowing night of Seaquen.  The canal was not far away, and for a long while she watched a ship rowing beneath bridge after bridge, finally vanishing from her sight.

To her Elven eyes, the millions of people of Seaquen gleamed like tiny points of light, like the stars she had only seen since coming to the surface.  Unliving objects glinted like crystal, reflecting the light of countless living things, thickly translucent.  The city had an inner glow unlike even the largest cities she knew from home in the land below.

A candle was lit in one of the bedrooms, reflecting dimly on the window.  She saw Allar’s reflection approaching her, and her smile widened.  The inn was almost silent, and she waited for him to speak.

“Do you. . . ,” he said, then stopped.  “Tri’ni, I was just wondering.  Do you know where Lacy is?”

Her smile nearly split her face, but she quickly hid it before turning to reply.

“She left a few hours ago.  She said she was going to pray.  I think, though, that she was looking for a temple to take me to, so they can train me.”

Allar nodded impatiently.  “Did she say when she would be back?”

“You want to talk to her this late at night?”

Allar frowned.  “Yes.  You’re up late yourself.”

She smirked.  “I couldn’t sleep.”

Allar sighed.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt.  I hope I didn’t. . . ”  

He trailed off, and now it was her turn to frown.

“What?” she asked.

“Well, I hope she doesn’t mind me saying this, but Lacy told me how you had . . . you were crying in your sleep.”

Tri’ni felt a pang, but she shook it off.  The lump in her throat was brief.  “I didn’t know what you were planning, with the teachers here in the city.  I was sad, yes, but I think now I’m too curious to go to sleep.”

“Oh.”  Allar paused.  “I thought. . . .  I just hoped I wasn’t interrupting.”

She shrugged, then shifted how she was sitting on the window sill.  “I like watching things.  It’s all beautiful.  Though I admit I was getting . . . unhappy?  With the scenery on the ship.  It wasn’t interesting anymore.”

Allar crossed his arms.  He looked uncomfortable, like he did not want to talk, but he would feel guilty if he left.

Tri’ni sucked air through her teeth for a moment, then changed topics.  “So have you told Lacy that you like her?  Because she wants you to.”

Allar scowled and turned away.  “My life is none of your business.  Get some sleep.”

Tri’ni wondered what she had done.  Allar snuffed his candle and went back to his room, and when Tri’ni turned back to the window, she looked out in hope that something would cheer her up.

She sat at the window for long hours, but fell asleep before the sun rose.  Lacy’s return just before dawn awoke her, and Tri’ni staggered to her unwanted bed, again uncertain of herself.

*	*	*​
In her room, Lacy ran her hands across herself, feeling fresh despite how sweaty and sleepy she was.  The inn had a wonderful bath house, and she had not bathed in months.  She intended to clean up, then get some sleep.

The man’s name had been Shawn, and from the look on his face as she had said her goodbyes, Lacy felt proud of herself.  This evening she had taken control, and she felt relieved, and a little tingly.  After she woke up, she intended to make the most of the day.

Wrapping a sheet around herself and carrying a few spare clothes under her arm, she slipped out into the main room of the suite and knocked on Babb’s door.  When he didn’t answer, she walked in and shook him lightly.  He groggily opened one eye, nodded, then rolled onto his side.

“Babb, I’m going to sleep in a little late.”  She yawned conveniently.  “Do you remember that temple I went to while we stayed here?”

Babb grunted affirmatively, shrugging his hairy shoulders to pull more blanket of himself.

“Can you take Tri’ni for me?  I’ll be sleeping.”

Babb groaned sleepily.  “Sure.  Later.”

She patted him on the arm and kissed his forehead, to which he grumbled and tried to roll onto his face.  She smiled and left, then went downstairs to bathe.  Her thoughts flitted from Hunter to Allar to the young man named Shawn.  She wondered if she would ever see him again.  

When she noticed the sunrise, for the briefest moment she thought of how ironic it was that a priest of Vanessi, so nervous himself, had told her to be more confident.  The thought made her feel a cold emptiness in her stomach for a moment.  

She forced away a frown, and tried to remember more cheerful sensations.

*	*	*​
David and Babb showed Tri’ni around the city, and she tried not to be angry at Allar, even though he had kept her from getting to sleep.  Weary but hopeful, Tri’ni chatted with her friends as they swung through Seaquen, taking her to a dozen possible teachers.

Taskmages selling simple services like magical mending did not interest her.  The illusions used at a brothel in the candlelight district were amazing, but the love potions they sold to affect the emotions of another offended her.  The medicine woman who lived in the tree in the middle of the park had been friendly, though, and a strange man looking like a bird had sounded excited about the scrolls in his shop, whatever language he had been speaking in.

The manservant of the city’s first archmage said he was ‘fixing the steam tunnels again,’ as if it were important.  The city’s second archmage refused to speak with them, but the magic wards on the walls outside his home had looked very intriguing.  She would be seeing Tierodunne, the city’s third archmage, tomorrow afternoon.

Dorisian spellsingers performing at the Bridge of Bards had been too busy to talk, but Tri’ni had never been confident in her skill at singing, so she did not count it as a loss.  By random chance they had come upon a brown-skinned Kohalesti Elf worker using stoneshaping magic to fix a worn staircase, and though she desperately wanted to talk with another Elf, the man had sneered at her and shouted something in a language none of them understood.

Tri’ni had made sure to memorize the hand gesture he had given her.

None of the three of them had been eager to go to the Temple of Vanessi, and the priests there had turned her away anyway.  Another temple had offered to burn the evil out of her, and a third had promised to teach her how to control the spirits of the dead.  A fourth had offered free ale in exchange for a tale of skill at arms, but David had not let her try out the alcohol, so Babb had taken credit for killing the blood-drinker of Ycengled.

The workshop they went to last made enchanted items on commission.  Even the simplest items they offered were well beyond the group’s means, and David was much more interested in their techniques than Tri’ni was.  When they finally left, it was late afternoon, the streets were almost as crowded as those of Rissan’la in the land below, and Babb was grumbling.

“I need something enchanted,” he said, the closest she had heard him come to pouting.

Confused, she looked down at his sword’s bright magical glow, then back to Babb.  “What do you mean?”

“David has his talismans he makes so he can use magic.  Lacy made that necklace for you, and her talisman of Vanessi has something to do with her magic.  And Allar . . . oh Allar has some ancient, ancestral sword of the Elvish kings that cuts off arms left and right.”

Tri’ni said, “It only cut off the man’s right arm.  Plus, your sword is enchanted.  I thought you loved it.”

Babb shook his head.  “Hey, yeah.  Thanks for trying, Trin.”

“Can’t you tell?” she asked.  “It’s . . . it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

David opened his mouth, let it hang for a moment, then rolled his eyes.  “I can’t believe I forgot.  Babb, she’s an Elf.  Of course she can see it.”

“Can’t you?” Tri’ni asked.  “I know Goblins can’t, but they’re not too smart.  I thought humans and Jispin and Geidon would be able to.  Although I guess I should have realized something when you couldn’t see in the dark without the light spell.”

“,” Babb said.  “You just see magic?  Damn, I do remember hearing that about Elves.  But, really, you know Elves.  They’re always trying to tell you how much more perfect they are than you.”

Tri’ni smirked.  “That’s just strange.  Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

David shrugged.  “It’s not the sort of thing you think about, normally.  It’s not like I need to tell you that Jispin can see into the future.”

Tri’ni squinted at David, and after a long moment she said, “I’m almost sure you’re joking.”

David smiled proudly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Babb said.  “What does my sword do, then?”

Tri’ni shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I haven’t seen many magic swords.  Dentalles’s . . . Allar’s, I mean.  It doesn’t have an aura.  I always thought that was strange.”

“Great.”  Babb growled and shook his sword in his sheath.  “I might have an enchanted item, but we don’t know what it does.”

David said, “Tomorrow before we go to see Tierodunne, Lacy and I were planning to visit the library.  If you let me take a look at it, I’ll see if I can find anything about it.”

“Library?” Babb said.  “You have fun with that.  Why are you going anyway?”

“Nothing in particular,” David said, too quickly.  Tri’ni noticed he glanced at her with a bit of worry.  “Checking on some of the history of that tomb we were in.  Lacy has an idea who it belonged to, but we want to be sure.”

Babb laughed.  “You mean mister ‘I’m going to sing everything I say’?  Let’s just hope he never managed to dig himself out.”

David did not reply, and Tri’ni could only nod.  She had barely thought about the strange creature they had met just before fighting the dragon, not since Seekan had-

She couldn’t finish the thought, and she forced a laugh out.  “Tomorrow night I’m looking forward to meeting Tierodunne.”

“I wondered,” David said sarcastically.  “With all the luck we’ve been having with the other mages, I’m surprised you’re in such good spirits.”

Tri’ni laughed outwardly.  “I’m just . . . very hopeful.”

“Good,” David said, looking pleased with himself.  “That’s excellent.  That’s the best we could ask for.”

*	*	*​
No one was around when Lacy woke up late in the afternoon.  She was about to head out to a spell store to buy a copy of the charm to ward off pregnancy when a knock came at the door to the suite.  With eagerness that surprised even herself, she rushed to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Um, my name is, ah, Darren,” came the nervous voice of a young man.  “I’m delivering a package, and it’s very heavy.”

Lacy opened the door to the sight of a teenaged boy holding an armful of packages in various sizes, wrapped in brown paper.  She accepted them and tipped the boy a silver coin.  He thanked her as he left, and kept thanking her as he descended the stairs to the first floor.  She smiled at him, then closed the door and turned to examine the packages.

There were four wrapped packages – one with each of their names on it, except for Allar’s – and a small box labeled ‘lacey boots.’  She wondered if whoever had sent them had just misspelled her name, and then she noticed again that Allar was not included.  

“Hunter,” she laughed to herself, “nice try, but you’ve already lost this one.”

Caution from adventuring made her make sure to cast a quick spell to see if any danger lurked in the packages.  Her first attempt failed, disrupted by her contact with Allar the day before.  Her hand twitched from a brief inner burn, and she waved her hand as if she could cool it off.  She knew the disruption was gone now – it only ever took a single spell to clear away the aura of an Elf – but she was tired of getting stung, and she really did not expect Hunter to try anything dangerous, so with a shrug she unwrapped the package with her name on it.  Then she gasped.

Inside was a beautiful white cashmere dress, highlighted with gold trim and green silk.  Not believing, she held up the dress and saw it was actually long enough to fit her.  She blinked for a few moments, then smiled and clutched the dress, taking out her glee on the gift.  Almost fearfully she opened the box and saw a pair of boots made from light grey leather.  Not quite as beautiful as the dress, but still they brought a smile to her face.

She wondered aloud, “How in the world did he know what size to make it?”

She hesitated for a moment, concerned that it might be wrong for her to wear a dress given by a man she did not have feelings for.  But she shook her head and laughed, knowing she would never forgive herself if she did not at least try it on.  A moment later she was in her room, and she had nearly managed to get the dress on properly when she heard another knock at the door.

“Just a moment,” she shouted.

She headed to the door, hopping to pull on her boots.  She was nearly to the door when she remembered she was not wearing her necklace holy symbol of Vanessi, but it wasn’t urgent, so she pulled on her second boot, straightened the dress – which fit very comfortably and in a way she hoped was flattering – then tossed her hair over one shoulder.

“Who is it?” she asked, opening the door.

The men’s hands were upon her before she knew she was being attacked.  They grabbed her arms and pulled her down so one man could wrap a thick ribbon around her neck and draw it too tight for her to scream.  Another man clubbed her across the temple and her vision went red.  She staggered to the ground and tried to pull free the ribbon that was strangling her, but after a moment she realized she would not be able to fight off the men.  She felt metal pressed to her throat, and she raised her hands to surrender.

Another blow struck her in the head, and she wished she would pass out, but they just kept beating her until her breath gave way and she slumped to the floor.


_To be continued . . ._​


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## Graywolf-ELM (Feb 1, 2005)

The cads.  How dare they.

GW


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## Acquana (Feb 2, 2005)

Hey hey!  Storyhour!  w007!

Looks like you've got some fan-art coming!


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## RangerWickett (Feb 2, 2005)

Graywolf, and anyone else who is reading this story, I'd like to know what you think of it so far.  What characters do you like?  What parts have you enjoyed most or least.  I'm hoping for a bit of honest criticism, as well as some positive reinforcement that I'm getting some things right.


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## Dæmon (Feb 2, 2005)

The narrative is compelling and the characterization interesting, though I can not offer criticisms as I have not read it in a critical manner, only as something enjoyable to read.


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## Graywolf-ELM (Feb 3, 2005)

RangerWickett said:
			
		

> Graywolf, and anyone else who is reading this story, I'd like to know what you think of it so far.  What characters do you like?  What parts have you enjoyed most or least.  I'm hoping for a bit of honest criticism, as well as some positive reinforcement that I'm getting some things right.




I have been enjoying the story itself.  You've been quite prolific of late, which is nice.

Some comments then both ways.
- Over time, I have completely forgotten that Babb is a minotaur until it is mentioned specifically.  In contrast, the dark elf is mentioned and her heritage brought up on a regular basis, but not in a "grab your torch and pitchforks" kind of way.  I get the feeling from the story that  Minotaurs are either common, or beneath notice as there is very little reaction in the story to him.    My story hour is pretty young, so I don't claim to know it all.  Something I try to do is reference race or class periodically to keep the reader in mind of who is actually what.  Things such as "The goblin slipped around the corner so quietly he went unnoticed by the Orc."  rather than "Rhgl snuck around the corner..."  His name has been mentioned recently, so I try to call up his race or class sometimes.  Sorry I don't mean to stick on the thought.

- The different kinds of magic issue is new to me and kind of interesting.  Contact between races can disrupt magic use, which can be used in so many ways.  I wonder of the PC's use this to their advantage in the future.  It can also make healing difficult without a party of the same racial makeup.

- Many of the story hours tend to gloss over the non-combat scenes.  Yours does not.  I am ok with that, it makes for a longer story, and gives a little more insight into the characters.  Too much insight can drag a little at times.   It seems that the party is still has work to do on "working together" or they don't mind having disparate goals.

- I have enjoyed the way you have written the combat scenes.  Good descriptive that doesn't scream rounds of combat in D&D but has a recognizable quality to it.

That's enough from me.  I hope it is helpful, as with anything like this, it is surely subjective no matter how hard I try to be objective.
GW


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## Graywolf-ELM (Feb 8, 2005)

I hope my comments were not taken in a bad way.  I can do technical review pretty well, but my assessment of writing should be taken with a grain of salt.  All comments were intended in a constructive and positive way.  In short, I look forward to your next update.

GW


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## Acquana (Feb 8, 2005)

Aw, dont' worry about Wickett, he's a tough one.  After all, he's taken criticism from _me._  I'm pretty harsh.

He's just being lazy and not updating!


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## RangerWickett (Feb 9, 2005)

It's not that I'm lazy.  I appreciate the critiques and such, but I won't be updating.  This is a teaser, and if you want more, you'll need to email me.


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