Chapter 14

Karith's lair, The Dragon Tooth Mountains, Andor.

"I do not like where this is heading, Reg," Aaron stated as he stood and stretched. "It does not seem that everything is going well, as you led me to believe."

Reg had just taken a break from telling the story so everyone could take a break and get refreshments. Karith had taken the opportunity to take the children out hunting while Melvina prepared a meal for the others. Aaron had been sitting deep in thought before making his declaration to Reginald.

"I told you that the timeline was in flux, and, as a matter of fact, it still is," Reg replied. "I am showing you just one possibility, there are others. As I stated when you originally asked about them."

"So, they are in danger?" Aaron asked and stated at the same time.

"I now believe so, but TimeKeeper will not confirm that yet," Reg replied, while nodding. "We should wait for the others to return before we continue this conversation. I am going to help Mel with lunch."

Reg left Aaron to brood while he helped Melvina set out a cold lunch of fruits, bread, and cheeses. Aaron had just poured himself another glass of Gnomish when the noise of his family's return caused him to pause and smile: 'His Family'.

"Father, you should have seen us!" Elswith announced as they entered the room. "Mother is simply superb at hunting."

"You and Manarn are not too bad yourselves," Karith replied, with a heavy dose of motherly pride.

"You will have to come and hunt with us next time, Father," Manarn added.

"It might not be all that spectacular since I cannot take the shape of a Wyrm," Aaron replied with a grin.

"I am fairly confident that the shape you can take would be suitable enough," Karith teased.

"Lunch is served for those of us that did not just return from hunting," Melvina announced, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"I might have some fruit, just so you know," Karith teased back. "Or at least a glass of wine to wash down the wildebeest."

When lunch was finished and the dishes cleaned up they retook their seats with full glasses and waited for Reg to continue. Reg sat there for several moments, seemingly in deep thought, before looking Aaron squarely in the eyes. Reg took a deep breath, quickly looked at Melvina, and then cleared his throat.

"My telling of the story has come to an end," Reg announced suddenly while holding up a hand to forestall any discussion. "The story has not ended, obviously, but my telling of it has."

"TimeKeeper will take up the narrative since events are changing at a rapid rate. Please direct your attention to the wall over there," Reg pointed to a blank wall across the room.

A circular area in front of the wall, about the diameter of outstretched arms, began to rotate in a right hand direction. Not the wall itself but the very air began turning, and yet the colors of the wall began to spin and swirl together as a kaleidoscope. The spinning increased in speed until the colors faded and the entire area turned black as night. TimeKeeper had created a small portal in the fabric of time.

A scene began to fade in within the vortex...

The Pious Satyr, an inn in the city of Malkur, Central Plains, Andor.

The group left the Thieves' Guild and returned to the Pious Satyr where, after procuring rooms for the other three, they retired to a private dining room to get better acquainted. They had ordered wine and ale and were just waiting for it to be delivered. Dunin took a moment to use the 'Truth Sight' that Kalaban afforded him.

As he turned his gaze on Beriwen he could see her outlined in emerald green with ribbons of browns mixed in. He could see a darker brown band around her right ring finger. He could also see a tiny silver thread emanating from her chest and terminating at his very own.

He turned toward Graydon and was momentarily blinded by the bright white light of his aura. Within the light were two small ribbons of grey. At his side was an outline of a sword in silver and white, mixing and swirling, beating like a heart.

Turning his gaze toward Tristan revealed an aura of dark grey, with many specks of blue twinkling like little lights. Within the dark grey were many ribbons of black and only one or two of white. He was surprised to see a dark outline of a sword at his hip.

Continuing around the room he next spotted Anastasia, again her aura was mostly grey, with the same blue specks, although considerably lighter than Tristan, but also included some ribbons of black and white, more white than black though, and bands of brass encircling both wrists. She also had a sword outlined in black on her hip.

"Dunin?" Beriwen's question brought him out of his vision. "Did you hear Graydon?"

"What? No, sorry I did not," Dunin smiled sheepishly. "Just lost in thought."

"What I was saying was, that I think we should put our cards on the table so to speak, to give a brief synopsis of ourselves and then we would be more readily able to ascertain strengths and weaknesses. And I thought I would go first, ah, but first here is our server with drinks."

The waitress served drinks around the table and then informed them about the lunch menu that day. The sever informed them that for lunch the inn was offering a rich barley beef stew with crusty bread and fresh churned butter, and for desert they had sautéed spiced pears and apples in a butter sauce topped with whipped cream. After taking everyone's order the waitress left, closing the door behind her. Everyone turned to Graydon so he could continue.

"I am Graydon Kimrilson, recently a member of the Stronghammer clan of Dwarves, yes, I said Dwarves. My mother, may The Soulsmith watch over her, was raped by a Demon Lord in one of the many shafts of the Stronghammer Mines, our home. I am, or was, a half-demon, half-dwarf oddity."

"Wait, you do not look half of either," Dunin interjected.

"I am getting to that," Graydon replied. "I also wield a Runesword, Lightbringer, the Finger of God. It was Lightbringer that changed me into what I am today. Well, more accurately, he encouraged my inner countenance to manifest itself in my outer appearance. I am what the Dvergur looked like before the fall. I am on a quest to find the true god of the Dvergur and hope to bring my people back to him. I am a Paladin and have the capabilities to heal as well as being able to wield a sword. I am also a beacon to every demon, devil, and unnamed thing of Hell. I also have an opposite out there that will be seeking me out and he too bears a Runesword. Oh, I almost forgot, there is another Paladin waiting for me when we leave, so add him to the equation."

"Wow, what a tale," Anastasia replied. "Mine is much more mundane. I am a Merchant Master, owning my own trading house. I have some small skill with a sword, although I have never tested with the Fighters' Guild. Most importantly, a person dear to my heart has been taken and I plan on getting him back. I have contacts and associates in all the major cities of the Five Realms, we will have places to stay in Aithen and Realto, as well as standing rooms in many of the roadside inns along the way."

Tristan then added his tale, which he said was ordinary, similarly to Anastasia's. Basically, he was a Swordsman, a journeyman second-class, who had been taken prisoner and left to die when Graydon came upon his plight and released him. Tristan was sure he would have died had Graydon not happened by and released him. For his generous and honorable act Tristan had pledged himself to Graydon's cause. He also mentioned that he was left-handed so everyone would know where his attacks would come from.

Beriwen was next and stated that she really did not know where to start. She said her story was a closely guarded secret but hoped that revealing it would go a long way toward building trust and camaraderie. She cautioned them that what she was about to reveal needed to be kept between them.

"You know that this is called the Third Age, or the Age of Man and that obviously there were two ages that proceeded it. Near the end of the first age, which was dominated by two reptilian races, three new races came into existence. They were called Tarran, Thangdaemon, and Elfen."

She went on to discuss the geopolitical climate at that time and the emergence of the Tarran as the dominant race. Her race, she explained, were the Elfen and had made their home in forests of the Western Realm. These three races, known as the Elder Races, were highly magical, although they did not call it magic, it being known to them as Eldritch, the power that was in all things. Toward the end of the Second Age a war between the Tarran and the Elfen ensued with Thangdaemon on both sides. Her people were nearly decimated and if not for the sudden banding together of all the Thangdaemon forces, would have perished. The Thangdaemon had made a deal with the gods and turned on their Tarran allies. She said that she was an accomplished sword master and had some skill in the magical arts.

"Anastasia all ready knows most of this and of course Dunin knows it all," Beriwen concluded.

"So you are some kind of sorceress?" Tristan asked.

"No, they are an abomination to the practice of what you call magic," she replied, disgustedly. "They rip the power out of things, use them up and squeeze them to get everything they can. Sorcery and divination is a blight on the practitioners of the art."

"So, you are a Mage?" Graydon asked.

"No, nor Enchantress, or Wizardress either," Beriwen replied. "My exact title is Witch. I am an Elfen Witch of the Third Triad."

"What exactly is a triad?" Tristan asked.

"The battle formation for Elfen Witches," Beriwen replied, setting three mugs in a triangular shape. "Picture two more formations off of each base corner, all making a triangular shape. That is how we focus our power to increase it exponentially. The lead Witch in the lead Triad receives the power from the other eight."

The others nodded in understanding and Berwien sat back down and looked to Dunin.

"I guess I am last," Dunin exclaimed, cutting off further questioning of Beriwen, and went on tell of his youth as the son of a fisherman in Re-An.

Dunin led them on his journey into manhood and being swept away in a violent storm and then being shipwrecked on a small island. He told them of his encounter with the knight and with finding the hall and Kalaban.

"When I left the island I went and applied to the Merchant-Marine Academy and was accepted. My mother, with nothing keeping her in Re-An once I was accepted, moved to Malkur to be with her sister. She ended up taking a job with Lady Anastasia when things did not go well with her sister's husband. I was on my way to visit when the train that I had hired on as a guard was attacked by Sand People. I was knocked out, taken prisoner, and later escaped. Afterward I hid in a set of ruins and found Beriwen. Anyway, we met, felt a connection, and continued on to Malkur where we found Anastasia. The rest you know. Oh, I wield the Runesword, Kalaban, known as the Crystal Sword and The Defender. I am a Lance Corporal in the Merchant-Marines, which is basically a Journeyman Third Class, or a Soldier in the Fighters' Guild. That is about it."

"Anyone have experience with ranged weapons?" Anastasia asked.

She received negative responses from everyone except Tristan, who said he was skilled with a short bow. She nodded and then asked if everyone had access to a mount. Everyone other than Dunin and Beriwen had mounts and Anastasia knew where the other two could procure horses. Then Tristan brought up supplies and routes, which Anastasia again had the answers, or at least the fact that one of her mercantile establishments could provide everything they might need. As far as a route, when no one came forth with ideas, Tristan suggested that they just stick to the Old Kings' Highway and the many inns along the way. They stopped their discussion when their lunch was delivered and just discussed mundane things as they ate.

When the meal was completed and the dishes removed Tristan stood and held his glass in the air.

"To the success of our venture," he offered.

The scraping of chair legs could be heard as everyone followed Tristan's lead and stood, raising their glasses to the air, and acknowledged the toast in their individual ways.

"Just so we all understand," Graydon began, after the toasts died down. "Our journey objectives are two-fold: find Anastasia's abducted confidant, Rac-Nur, and find the hall of Griminar Soulforger. Is that correct?"

They all agreed that those were the adventure's parameters but they would lend aid at any point and were not afraid to adjust the parameters as different situations presented themselves. They sat back down and finished their various drinks while continuing various conversations of non-consequential things in an effort to get to know one another better. It was Anastasia that broke up the various conversations when she suggested that they spend the rest of the day procuring the things they would need on their journey. Everyone was in agreement and as a unit all rose and left the inn.

Anastasia led the way and had everyone follow her to her office where she had letters of credit drawn up for Graydon and Tristan to procure the items for the trip. She, Dunin, and Beriwen left them in the market area and went in search of horses and pack mules. They intended to meet back up at the inn in time for the evening meal.

The manor house, Barony of Blackvale, Eastern Realm, Andor.

Neelam and his compatriots had been very busy in the week since taking the barony. Maoauk had successfully united all of the Eastern Orc tribes and additionally had sent envoys to several tribes in the Central Plains. Maoauk also conscripted able-bodied men from every town and hamlet and incorporated then into an army. Neelam had set up his seat of power in Blackvale and now all tribute flowed to the barony. Tsor was doing whatever a chamberlain did, and to be honest, Neelam was not quite sure what that entailed, entirely. He did know that he had a new bed warmer every night and the manor house ran efficiently, so at least Tsor was good at that.

Neelam had closed the border at the road leading into the forest and ordered patrols sent out to enforce the law. The flow of goods and services which had started to increase over the last few years dried up. Even the smugglers were leery of crossing the Orc patrols and soon found other avenues of making money.

Tsor had combed the area and had gathered every type of magic user he could find; sorcerers, divinators, witches, and the like and was building a small magical force. He also took care of the running of the manor. He had also sent goblin wizard envoys to the Gnomes and Dark Elves to gauge their interest in joining forces.

Ragnar spent the time chafing at the bit but Nightbringer continued to counsel against going after the paladin and further revealed that the paladin would seek them out. Nightbringer also warned its wielder about not entering Castle Daemongurd prematurely, which also caused the Thangdaemon Lord to bristle. Ragnar knew the sword held its own agenda but could not fathom what and the sword was not forthcoming with relevant information. He ended up spending most days either practicing with the sword or brooding about the current situation.

Neelam gathered the four once a day to discuss the preparations for the march on Aithen and the unseating of King Dorian Greyhawk. At their latest meeting they were still waiting to here from all of the envoys that were sent out to the various Orc tribes on the western side of the forest as well as those sent to the Gnomes and Dark Elves.

Maoauk reported that he was happy with the unified army of Orc and Human and that he had all the blacksmiths from throughout the unified realm creating the necessary instruments of war; armor, weapons, and sieges engines.

Tsor reported that his cadre of magic-users would be ready well before the envoy from the Dark Elves, whom he figured would be the last envoy to return, came back, and that he had sent patrols out searching for spies and other malcontents.

Ragnar had no responsibilities and spent most of his time training and sparring with some of the better sword fighters. None were in his league but he used the time to train up some of the more promising ones. He ended up creating a cadre of sorts of the best sword fighters who began to train the others as well as appointed themselves his personal guard. No matter where he went, a number of them followed along. They even had the blacksmiths make them black armor so they were recognized as above the others.

Neelam, with Gor's guidance, was slowly building a force that would soon be able to challenge anything the west could muster, not only in terms of sheer numbers but also fighting prowess. Neelam wanted his troops ready to march in two weeks' time, whether the envoys were back or not, and had his generals include contingency plans for the Gnomes and Dark Elves.

The Pious Satyr, Malkur.

Graydon and Tristan were the first to return from their errands. They had gone straight to the market area and searched the shops for items they thought they might need. The found tents and bed rolls, cookware and utensils, fire starting and first-aid supplies, and ropes and tools for the trip. They then went in search of ponchos, and other harsh weather gear in sizes provided by the others. At each stall, mercantile, or shop they paid for the purchases with the line of credit provided by House De La Rose and made arrangements to have them sent to the inn before evening. They were sitting at a table in the back of the common room nursing tankards of ale when they spied the rest of their group entering. Graydon stood and caught their attention, beckoning them over.

Anastasia's group was responsible for mounts, pack animals, and all of the necessary tack that went with each. She knew of a reputable stable and led the other two to where the stable was located, near the main gates. She haggled with the owner and conferred with both Dunin and Beriwen before settling on mounts for each. They had previous discussed the necessity of pack animals and Anastasia bought three, based on what the group thought they would need. Anastasia made arrangements to have all the animals moved to the Pious Satyr's stables as soon as possible. They were just about ready to leave when a commotion within the stables caused them to pause.

Beriwen led the way and when they entered a section of the stables that they had not been they came across a group of men trying to control a black horse in a large paddock. Three men held different leads going to the animal's neck and one man stood in front flicking a whip back and forth. The horse was frothing at the mouth and its eyes were almost rolled back in its head. Every time the whip came forward the beast would rear back on its hind legs and strike at the air with its forelegs.

"Dunin! Stop that man!" Beriwen screamed, pointing at the man holding the whip as she approached the wild animal.

Dunin followed her command and grabbed the man's arm just as he swung it back to prepare the whip for another strike. The man whipped around angrily and then paled as he looked up into Dunin's face.

"Do not!" Dunin commanded.

"Wait Milady! That is the blackest, meanest, and most ornery horse anyone could ever come across!" one of the men holding a lead cried out. "He will tear you apart!"

Beriwen disregarded the warning and slowly advanced on the animal, making shushing noises and holding her hands up. The men, Dunin, Anastasia, and the stable owner included, watched in astonishment as Beriwen was able to approach the wild beast and slowly reach out and rub the horse on its nose. Dunin could see the horse's eyes roll back forward as its heaving subsided. Beriwen continued to stroke the horse's head and then brought the other hand up to scratch it behind its ears.

"Anyone have a carrot?" she asked, turning back to the others and added. "Please slacken those leads."

The men complied with her command and she gently unclipped the leaders and let them fall to the ground. The man, who previously had been using the whip, slowly approached, holding several carrots, which he offered to Beriwen. She took the offered carrots and began feeding the horse, all the while talking softly and scratching behind its ears.

"It is a direct descendant from the Rhyhollean," she explained. "The Kings of the Plains, a semi-intelligent race of horses during the last two ages."

Dunin watched her in awe as she calmed the horse down and slowly led it around the paddock until finally bringing it over to where Dunin and Anastasia stood next to the stable owner.

"This animal should be free," Beriwen stated. "Where did you find him?"

The owner stated that the horse and had been caught during a roundup several leagues north-northwest of the city.

"How much for the horse?" Anastasia asked.

"Well, it is a fine example of horse flesh and if the lady is correct then that certainly changes things," the stable owner said, scratching his chin.

"If it was not for the lady's intervention then the horse would have been worth nothing," Anastasia countered, and then the haggling began in earnest.

In the end they paid twice what a regular horse would bring and reminded the owner where to send the other animals. Beriwen, with the big black in tow, followed Anastasia toward the front gate with Dunin bringing up the rearguard.

"Do you not want to keep him?" Anastasia asked, as they made their way to the front gates.

"One does not keep a Rhyhollean," Beriwen replied. "If they deem you worthy then they will bear you, otherwise it would be a grave mistake to just try to mount one."

"But you said it was a descendant," Dunin interjected. "So it has good bloodlines but is it actually one of the semi-intelligent horses you described?"

"I believe my earlier assessment was incorrect," Beriwen replied, as they passed through the gates. "I believe it is an actual Rhyhollean and not merely a descendant, which makes it even more extraordinary."

Beriwen passed through the small faire and stopped on the other side and led the horse off the main road. She carefully petted the horse as she undid the halter and gently slid it off the horse's head.

"Run free my friend," she exclaimed patting the horse on the side.

The horse turned its head and regarded Beriwen intently before swinging its head back around and slowly walking away. It moved several horse strides away, stopped, swung its head back around, and looked at her again. The horse bobbed its head up and down and whinnied, turned its head back around and trotted further away and again stopped. It pawed the ground and then reared back on its hind legs, striking out with its forelegs. It dropped back down on four legs, turned, and galloped off until they could no longer see it.

Dunin, Beriwen, and Anastasia stood there for several moments, watching the horse gallop off, heading north. When the horse disappeared they turned around and headed back to the inn, arriving not long after Graydon and Tristan. They ordering drinks and dinner and took turns relaying the events of the day.

When Beriwen finished the story about the horse Graydon chimed in about his and Tristan's mounts. Beriwen was really interested in seeing the horses so they made arrangements to visit the stables after dinner. Anastasia begged off, saying she had some business to take care of and would see everyone at breakfast. Dunin reminded everyone that there was a funeral in the morning and made sure everyone knew where the cemetery was in case they missed each other at breakfast. Anastasia let her thoughts wander to her upcoming nighttime excursion and missed several of the 'goodbyes'. As the group began to break up, each faction heading in different directions, Tristan noticed Anastasia's seemingly melancholy mood.

"Are you going to be all right?" Tristan asked, moving to where she stood, staring off into space.

"What?" she asked, startled out of her musings.

"I asked if you were going to be all right, but I think I have my answer," Tristan replied. "I can stay with you if you do not want to be alone. Graydon can take the others to see the mounts."

"No, that will not be necessary," she replied a little stiffly and then relaxed. "I appreciate the offer, though but I think I am just tired and need to lie down. Go ahead and go with the others, Beriwen is pretty excited to see this horse that Graydon has, and yours as well, I suppose."

Tristan nodded and left with the others but not before taking another look back at her with concern. She forced a tight little smile and made shooing motions with her hand and turned toward the stairs and their rooms. Tristan nodded again and turned to hurry and catch up with the others. Anastasia continued upstairs and entered her room and locked the door.

Anastasia crossed over to her bed, where her traveling bag was laying, and began to change from her clothes into something more befitting her nighttime excursion. Off came the blouse and in its place a tight black shirt of stretchy material. She removed her boot weapons and then the boots as well. She unhooked the sword scabbard from its belt and laid it on the bed, and the belt followed. She removed the doeskin pants and pulled on black pants of the same stretchy material as the shirt. She tied the cord-ends built into the cuff of the pants and then slipped on her boots and bloused the cuffs into the top of the boots. The daggers went back into the boot sheathes and she tied their stays to hold the daggers in place. She pulled her hair back and pinned it into place before slipping on a black head scarf that partially covered her facial features with a half mask that went to her nose. She tied the head scarf in the back and made sure it fitted right and concealed her identity. The last item was a black hooded cloak, which she slipped on. She packed her sword and belt into the bottom of her travel bag and then slid it under the bed.

She opened the double doors that led to the balcony and stepped out and looked around.

Although the Pious Satyr inns were located in most of the larger cities of the Five Realms, architecturally they were each unique. The inn located in Malkur was shaped as a diamond with the front doors at the point of the longest diagonal legs. The inn dominated a large square at the junction of two streets. Windows built into the facade of the long diagonal legs gave the impression of rooms on four levels but only the ground floor were functional.

The first thing one saw upon entering the inn was the large lobby with a desk and two sets of double doors angled to the right and to the left, as well as a set of double doors to the rear of desk leading to a vast courtyard in the center of the diamond. The doors to the left opened to a great room for dining, and nightly entertainment. The doors to right opened to a hallway with smaller private dining rooms to the right of the hallway that traversed the length of the right side leg. The smaller legs of the diamond shaped building on the ground floor were taken up by the large kitchen that serviced the great room, the smaller private dining rooms, as well as the outside courtyard.

Guest rooms were on the second, third, and fourth floors accessed by stairs just inside the doors to the great room, as well as stairs off of the hallway leading to the private rooms. Hallways ran the length of all legs of the inn on the second thru fourth floors, on the outer wall with room doors on the inner walls. There were stairwells at the intersection of the smaller legs which lead back down into the kitchen for room service. Each room had a private balcony that overlooked the large courtyard, which was sectioned off for outdoor entertainment, dining, meetings, and several small grottos for private entertaining.

The sun had set an hour previously and the courtyard was lit by torches, oil lanterns, and sconces depending on the individual area. Long shadows concealed the balconies and gave Anastasia enough concealment for what she had in mind. She slipped on her climbing gloves and carefully stood on the balcony's railing. She squatted down and sprang upward, extending her arms and grasping the eave of the roof, and pulled herself up and onto the roof.

When staying on the road in most establishments Anastasia would request a room close to the ground floor or near an exit if the inn only had one floor. She had been taught by Aaron, Drexil, and Rac-Nur to always have an exit and to never, ever allow herself to be boxed in. Knowing the layout of the Pious Satyr in Malkur she had chosen a room on the uppermost floor so she would have better access to the roof.

She quietly and quickly crossed the rooftop and stopped on the far side by the kitchen chimney. It was a Hunter's Night, a term meaning that the smaller of the two moons, The Hunter was full and close to the larger waning moon, known as The Stag. Normally she would be concerned by the light of The Hunter, but cloud cover diffused the light and turned everything a pale shade of grey. The night was warm and probably one of only a handful left of warm evenings before the turning of the season. The song of the cicada supplied a droning background to the din of pedestrians and revelers enjoying the evening in the market area. There were enough passerby's that she should be able to slip into the stream of humanity without being detected.