《Dargon》


 #1 Introductions

    It has been said that the gods know when great calamity is coming and that they raise heroes to stand before such disasters. Such a belief is as good as any other to explain how Pode could give so many young lives to save not only Capita and the Northern Kingdom, but the entire land of Eyjan from the dargon wars.


    Far in the northern reaches of Eyjan, in the north-western corner of the Northern Kingdom was a place so desolate and impoverished that not even the kindest, most charitably minded would venture. Pode was that village, a village so unwanted and so undesirable that even the tax collectors paid another to go in their stead.


    In this depressed, squalid place the villagers blood was no longer pure human like the rest of the Northern Kingdom. Too many strange things crept from the Sk¨®gur Forest for the people to remain pure in their conception, even those who didn''t interbreed with dwarves, elves and spidren found imperfections creeping into their bloodline. It was from this festering boil on the nether reaches of the continent that our heroes emerged.


    Now, dear reader, pay attention. For everyone knows that the cream always rises to the top. Even in the most dented, disgusting and fouled milk pan.


    Katrina burst out of the straw thatched hovel she shared with her parents,  younger sister and three younger brothers. "I will not marry Cole. I already told him no! Just like I''ve been telling him no for ten years." She rounded on Cole who, with her mother had followed her outside. "Damn you for going to my mother! Wait till my father comes home."


    Katrina''s mother, Jane, gasped, "But you have to marry him. You''re not getting any younger. Soon you''ll be too old for marriage." She worried her hands and fretfully looked at Katrina. Her daughter was touched by the gods. It made her proud, but also afraid. Better that she marry Cole, then he could lead her through her decisions.


    Katrina rounded on her mother, "No, I don''t. I am a priestess of the goddess of storms, chosen by the goddess herself. I can go anywhere and I will. I''m not going to be stuck here my whole life hearing about how I need to marry Cole."


    Cole frowned, "But Katrina, it is your duty. Our parents agreed to terms, if you don''t you will fail your responsibility as a daughter." Cole''s frown deepened. She was making him fail as a son.


    Katrina blanched when Cole said her father had agreed. She tried to keep her temper, but tiny bolts of lightning jumped across her skin. "My duty is to my goddess." She hissed through clenched teeth, "It supersedes all others. I will not marry you." Then she turned and stalked off. Dark clouds formed above her giving clear indication to anyone who cared to know where she was headed. Most likely to check on Mamma Tompkins cold. It was one of the few homes in that direction.


    Cole nodded, "Well, at least she is not remiss in her priestly duties." He liked that in a woman. Especially in his woman. He cared deeply for honor, duty and doing the things that were expected of you. Yet, Katrina''s wildness thrilled him as much as it irritated him. He didn''t know if he wanted to tame the storm in her or ride it. She cared deeply for her family and for her goddess. Now she just needed to obey.


    Jane looked up at him. "Do you think she''ll marry you?" She had a compliant temperament that she had failed to pass on to her eldest.


    "Oh, she''ll rage for a while, but she''ll calm down and give in. She is always more reasonable with that temper out of the way."


    She sighed, gazing after her errant daughter, "I worry though. The goddess chose her. Maybe her goddess has other plans for her." It was hard for her to believe any goddess would want a woman to do more than be a wife and mother. What higher calling could a woman have? But every so often that thought bubbled up like water from a overgrown, weed choked spring, spilling through the brambles of her mind for but a moment.


    While Cole was smiling condescendingly at Katrina''s mother, ready to rebuke her for such a foolish thought, Kegar of the Frozenpine, a dwarf-druid came sprinting across the field. "Cole! Not quite the cleric I was looking for, but you''ll do."


    Cole frowned. He was at least the equal in medical skill to Katrina, but for some reason everyone went to her first. It irked him. "What''s this about?"


    "You remember the flesh and bone spire I spoke of at the town meeting?" Kegar said grinning.


    Jane stepped forward, "Yes, my husband was one of the men that went to investigate. What news?"


    Cole cut her off, "Sir Wilbur wouldn''t let you investigate it and sent a party of more experienced men."


    Kegar grimaced at Cole''s description, but his news was so exciting, he began smiling again, "Sir Wilbur has sent me to gather a group from the militia."


    Cole squared his shoulders, "I will do my duty."


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    Jane was no fool. If Sir Wilbur was sending a second group it was because things hadn''t gone well for the first. She retreated into her house before the boys could see the tears in her eyes.


    Kegar slapped him on the back, "That''s the spirit. I need to go fetch Shandra and Strozazand the Dargonman."


    Cole raised an eyebrow at Kegar, "Strozazand the Dargonman? You mean Tommy Tompkins?"


    Kegar eyed Cole, "Our houses have thatched roofs, and he can breath fire. If calling him Strozazand the Dargonman or The Fluffy Pink Princess of Alaz makes him happy then we will call him that."


    Jane called out from the house, "Strozazand? I think he took a job at the inn as the new cook. Ever since he started that whole fire breathing thing prices have gone down. He doesn''t just do fire you know. Sometimes he''d even come around here and breathe frost on papa''s kills so they last longer. What a sweet boy." A quiet sniff filtered through the air, un-remarked upon by the young men, who felt there were more important things to be done than comfort emotional women.


    Cole, who had been feeling very important, felt his ego pop the moment she referred to a man his own age as a sweet boy. "I''ll meet you at Sir Wilbur''s."


    Cole headed toward the hovel that he shared with his parents and siblings. He needed to pick up the armor Ellen had made for him.


    As Cole approached his home, he saw his father bent over in the north forty. His father waved to him from amongst the furrows in their field, taking the moment to stretch and unbend from the backbreaking work of spring planting. His father called something to Cole, but he couldn''t hear him from the great distance and the young cleric didn''t have time to waste finding out.


    His mother, hearing her husband shouting, came to the door. One of Cole''s siblings clutched her leg pathetically. "Oh! Cole! You''re back!" She wiped the flour off her hands as she greeted him. "How did it go with Katrina? Has she accepted your suit yet?"


    Cole scowled. "No."


    His mother stepped back to let him in the house, "I''m sorry to hear that. Did you try to romance her first like I told you to? Sing her a song, write her a poem, bring her something she likes?"


    Cole''s scowl deepened so fiercely his little brother squeaked and fled outside, "No. I''ve told you, she isn''t that kind of woman." He went to the armor stand he had fashioned and gently caressed the bone armor lovingly, "Anyway, she is a cleric, like me. That nonsense shouldn''t matter to her. It is her duty and honor to marry me."


    His mother sighed, placing a hand on her hip, "Now you listen here Cole."


    He turned around surprised. His mother''s eyes flashed with a frustration so deep he could see it even in the shadows of their hovel. His shock stunned him into silence.


    "Every woman wants to be romanced and you are a fool to think they don''t. Now I don''t know how Katrina likes things. Maybe she doesn''t like flowers and poems and to be whispered sweet things in the moonlight. Maybe she does. But you wouldn''t know either way, now would you? Because you haven''t tried!" Her breath was heavy with repressed anger, "Why don''t you try to befriend her and see what she actually likes? You''re right, she''s a cleric and she loves her goddess, we''ve all seen that, but there is more to her then wind and rain and lightning, just like there is more to you then unyielding sunshine."


    Cole had never heard anything so strange. More to me then unyielding sunshine? More to her then rain? He snorted, trying to hold back his amusement, but it could not be contained. "Mother..." he gasped in between fits of laughter, "that''s... so... meteorological!" he snorted again, trying to regain control of himself, "Well, thank you for cheering me up. Her rejection was starting to get to me, but now I know I to just keep trying." He sighed wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "It has been a while since I laughed so hard."


    "Well, I must be going. Kegar needs me to help save the village and all that." He turned back to his armor stand and the mail on it. It looked like plate mail, but was crafted from the bones and sinew of the strange and magical beasts that lurked inside the woods of Pode. For a reasonable price Ellen was willing to make armor for anyone, and as the only person in the entire town who knew how to craft armor... anyone who had dreams that needed armor, got it from her.


    "Not really a task for a woman." Cole mused quietly, buckling his armor on, "But she certainly does a serviceable job."


    He could hear his mother maundering on and on behind him, but he tuned her ceaseless twittering out as he buckled on his armor. "Wish me luck, mother." He kissed her on the cheek and left, not waiting to hear her response.

 #2 Introductions Continued

    Shandra''s house was the tallest in the whole village, rivaling even Sir Wilbur''s for height. It was a full two stories tall. With her great magic she had even pulled the stones out of the earth to shore up the first story. If that act hadn''t knocked her unconscious for a month, Sir Wilbur would have paid her to do the same for his manor. Unfortunately, Shandra''s tower was an eighth the size of Sir Wilbur''s manor, so he decided she probably would be killed if she tried the same thing for him.


    Ivy and all manner of creeping vines scaled her home. What had once been a stone and wood tower had become a brilliantly, leafy, emerald minaret. Life spilled across her turret. Kegar, as a druid, always took a moment to stand in awe before Shandra''s tower. It was a beautiful instance of nature winning over human efforts. It strengthened his passion for nature to see it so victorious.


    As he stood sighing over the greenery, the right side of the tower exploded. Flames blasted through the vines that had covered a window. Luckily for Shandra''s home, the plants were so wet and hearty from the rainfall that though they smoked and curled back from the flames, they didn''t catch fire.


    The thundering explosion echoed long and loudly, so much so that Kegar reeled from the shock and the ringing in his ears. Fearing for Shandra''s safety after such a blast, he stumbled toward the door and shoved it open with effort.


    "Shandra!" He yelled, staggering inside.


    Shandra stood facing the window that the explosion had come from. Her thick and curly hair smoldered. Floating lights glowed around the room cheerfully. She turned to face Kegar slowly. Her face was covered in soot, her eyebrows were singed unwholesomely. Two beakers, their bottoms shattered, clutched in her hands, "Bother. I guess that wasn''t the right mixture."


    Kegar clutched the table next to him, trying to maintain his feet, "Are you alright?"


    Shandra glanced up, "Oh, Kegar! What are you doing here? It''s dangerous to come into a wizard''s tower without their permission, you could have been hurt."


    Kegar vomited onto the floor, just missing his feet, "I didn''t come until after the explosion." He clutched his head with one hand, "Why aren''t you dead?"


    Shandra seemed to finally take in Kegar''s condition, "Well, I always put on the necessary protections before I experiment. But you don''t look well." She dropped the shattered beakers into a basket and plucked a vermillion vial from a cabinet. "Here, drink this, no charge."


    Kegar, swaying on his feet, questioned her, "Are you sure you have the right vial?"


    Shandra looked at the bottle in her hand, "Yes, oh yes, this is right. Red is for health."


    Kegar drank the potion, I hope I don''t explode...


    "Sometimes red is for fire." She amended.


    Kegar gagged.


    She added cheerfully, "But that red is for health, I''m certain of it!"


    Shandra snapped her fingers and a ghostly white shade appeared near Kegar''s mess and began cleaning it with a very material scrub brush. "I guess I''ll need to start warding more of the area around my turret. I can''t have people dying when they come to visit me... Coming in unannounced is one thing, but injuring any passersby is unconscionable."


    The potion tasted like things Kegar didn''t want to think about. As a druid he had made some vile potions himself, but this! I have never tasted anything so horrible! He coughed before asking, "What were you doing?"


    Shandra brightened, "Oh! Yes! I was working on a new flavor for my healing potions. I don''t know if you noticed, but they don''t taste very nice. Certainly not as nice as the ones Katrina makes. Mine are stronger you know, but the taste... I was working on an improvement."


    Kegar glared at her. "You were working on a healing potion and it exploded! Doesn''t that bother you?"


    Shandra''s eyes widened with shock, "Of course, it bothers me! This is the third explosion I''ve had with this flavor! The one I gave you only exploded twice before I got it right!"


    Kegar shuddered before adding sarcastically, "Well, thanks for not killing me."


    "Anytime!" Shandra said brightly and without malice.


    Kegar straightened, the healing potion worked soundly and quickly. Even if he did fear for his life when he drank it. "I need to ask you a question." He explained what had happened and what Sir Wilbur told him to do. "So, will you come with us?"


    Shandra grabbed some of the vermillion potions and an assortment of other potions from the cabinet, tucked them into a pouch that she then wrapped around her waist, "Sure! I''ve been meaning to test some things..." She drifted off murmuring to herself.


    Kegar eyed her suspiciously, "So, want to meet us at Sir Wilbur''s while I go get Stroz?"


    "Oh? What?" She looked down at the pouch around her waist, "Oh! Of course!" She sashayed out of her tower, letting Kegar close the tower door behind them.


    She glanced back at her home and stopped, "When did all those vines get here? I thought... " She looked around, "Blaze?"


    A cat sized little dargon crawled out of the vines. Its scales were brass, though hidden amongst the leaves its scales looked rather tarnished. It crept over to her on its belly, like a cat that knew it had done something very naughty. As it slinked across the ground its scales shimmered in the light.


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    "Blaze. I thought I told you to keep the tower clear of brush." Shandra put her hand on her hip and frowned at the little dargon.


    Blaze looked up at her with eyes too big and too adorable for its little body, "You told me to clear the tower that day. You didn''t ask me to keep it clear. Just to clear it then." Its voice trumpeted like a little brass horn.


    Kegar sighed, "I don''t think you should worry about it. Your house looks lovely, why spoil it?"


    Blaze nodded his shiny head, "The vines are fun to play in."


    "The house is not a toy, Blaze." She scooped the little dargon up into her arms, "It is a functional building. I''m going to go take care of something with Kegar here. When I come back, I want the whole house to be clean."


    Blaze nodded fervently. "I will clean the house."


    Shandra smiled, "Good." She kissed the little dargon''s nose and the brass scales on its face flushed like they had just gone into a furnace. "Be good, Blaze."


    Kegar sighed. "I''ll see you at Sir Wilbur''s." He headed toward the inn with a sense of doom. This was going to be the tricky part.


    Kegar snuck into the inn through the servants entrance in order to prevent Faute and Lizzy from hearing about the mission. He didn''t want Faute to know because she was a busybody. A pretentious human with fey blood. Negligible fey blood. She felt her blood made her better than everyone in the entire town. Better than solid dwarf blood. He didn''t want her messing up his chance to prove to Sir Wilbur that he was good enough to marry Sir Wilbur''s granddaughter the Lady Elizabeth even though he was a dwarf. He didn''t want Lizzy, Lady Elizabeth, to know because she would insist on coming. Now, he thought she was a swell girl, they wanted to get married after all, but all she did was play the lute. Her music was enchanting, but hardly something to stop a goblin in its tracks.


    Strozazand was blowing a steady stream of fire at the hearth. His back was to the door, displaying his unfortunately naked body and extensive back tattoo. The heat was incredible and sweat ran down Strozazand''s back in rivulets. Kegar shrunk back from the heat of the kitchen and the naked man. "Strozazand, I was wondering if you wouldn''t mind helping me with a quest."


    The fire stopped. "A quest?" He turned around.


    "For the love of the frozen lands, put some pants on man." Kegar averted his eyes.


    Strozazand looked down at himself and shrugged, "It gets hot." He grabbed his pants and began struggling into them, "What was this quest? Dargons don''t normally go on quests, but if there is any chance of treasure to bolster my horde, I want in."


    Kegar believed, strongly, that Strozazand''s insistence that he was a dargon was delusions of grandeur. Strange breath didn''t make him a dargon, especially in this town. It made him weird, but not a dargon. "Yeah, there is probably some kind of treasure. It''s an unexplored tower after all." After all, the town was full of people who could do strange things. Even Faute could shoot energy from her hands and that was just Faute.


    Strozazand hesitated a moment. "A tower? Are we going to check out the tower Katrina''s father and the other hunters went into?"


    "That would be the one." Kegar nodded. "We are meeting Sir Wilbur. He has some information for us before we leave."


    Strozazand''s eyes gleamed. "I''m in!" he roared and sprinted from the inn, barely remembering to put out the cook fire with a breath of frost before he ran to get his things and head to Sir Wilbur''s.


    Thinking of Lizzy and Faute, Kegar hoped the tavern was too busy for either of the women to hear Strozazand. This hope evaporated when he turned and saw Lizzy standing in the doorway. Lizzy''s hair was the color of burnt umber. Her skin a flawless caramel color. She was wearing a canary yellow tunic and chocolate leggings that cleverly displayed shapely legs.


    "I expect you were coming to ask me next. You just wanted to ask him first so he didn''t feel left out?" Lizzy stood with one finely manicured hand on her hip and the other holding her mahogany lute. The breath went out of his lungs at her beauty, and in his despair.


    Kegar believed honesty was always the best policy, "Well, no dear. You see I wasn''t going to tell you about it..."


    Her eyes narrowed. "You weren''t!"


    He shifted on the balls of his feet, wishing his familiar, K?ttur the leopard, was here to hide behind, "Well, no. Sir Wilbur doesn''t want you to go since you are his heir and it is dangerous." He also knew the value of a quick exit. Kegar couldn''t continue to meet her gaze and looked away then continued into his speech, "Yeah... so... I''ll be seeing you." Kegar bolted out the servant''s entrance and raced as fast as his stubby legs could take him to Sir Wilbur''s. He was glad he had spoken to Shandra before Strozazand. He did not want to make any stops where Lizzy could catch up to him. Her shapely long legs made her much faster than him.

 #3 Forest Friendships

    Katrina had stomped off in the direction of Momma Thompkins. There was only one homestead in that direction. That and the road to Capita, but no one ever came to Pode except for Percival and his father Francis'' trade cart once a year, which only came during tax season. Katrina didn''t make it to the Thompkins because Percival came a day early this year.


    "Katrina!" Percival sprang lithely from the cart, doing a flip before landing in front of her.


    She grinned at him, "Still showing off I see."


    "What use is learning acrobatics if a man can''t make an entrance?" He said picking at his nails with a narrow knife.


    Francis rolled his eyes and clucked to the pony, "I''ll be seeing you son."


    Katrina waved to Francis before turning to Percival, "What''s the news?"


    His face fell, "Not good I''m afraid. You remember how I told you about adventurers? How a living can be made that way?"


    "Of course! People put up bounties at a location, you complete it and are paid." She gestured for him to continue. It was something she had asked him about in detail seasons ago.


    "Yes," He nodded, "well the boards are overflowing, have been for months apparently."


    Katrina''s brow furrowed. Doing quests and things was her dream. She couldn''t understand why people living her dream would abandon it, "But why?"


    Percival whispered conspiratorially, "There is no one to do it. Everyone has been drafted."


    Katrina raised an eyebrow. She was not doing this guessing game anymore.


    "Orcs and lizardmen." He whispered holding up a scroll, "They can''t draft me since I''m just a merchant passing through from the Southern Kingdom." But he pushed back his sleeve and revealed a healing bruise that looked suspiciously hand shaped. "They did strongly encourage me to bring this scroll up here to Pode."


    Katrina eyed the scroll, "That is addressed to Sir Wilbur."


    Percival shrugged, "So it is." He sighed, "I should be off I suppose. Duty calls and all that." His stomach rumbled.


    She laughed, "Obviously. And the meal Sir Wilbur will give you has nothing to do with that in the slightest."


    "Perks of being a service member, love." He winked at her before starting after his father.


    Katrina frowned. This was something she wanted to think on. Unfortunately, her home had been invaded by Cole and his inflated ego. Ellen''s house was quiet though.


    Ellen was Sir Wilbur''s forester. She was in charge of making sure the deer and quail were in good supply for when Sir Wilbur had lords to the house. This had never happened. She was also to keep the exotic predators off his land. Ellen was also rarely in her cabin. She stopped by every few days to re-supply, but Ellen really only kept the cabin as a formality.


    Katrina opened the door harshly, her thoughts caught up in other things. The door slammed against the wall. She murmured a curse.


    "Katrina?" Ellen said looking up from the creature she was dressing. Her dusky black skin was covered in blood up to her elbows. Brown hair, with highlights of dark green was tied up in a smart bun.


    "Ellen!" Katrina explained stunned, "I didn''t think you would be home."


    "Oh, his lordship wanted something special for his table since Francis is coming in tomorrow. Tax season and all that." She gestured to what you would get if a spider had bred with a chicken.


    "Special." Katrina eyed it with suspicion.


    Ellen smiled her hazel eyes sparkling, "I think so. It has a good taste. The legs are especially good if you crack them open. Like crab legs but... sweeter... and with a pleasant tang. I call them spikens. Nasty bite on them though. They can bite through leather gloves." She held up one of the gloves she had made, leather with studs of crocalyal carapace. It had been bit in half.


    "What happened to your hand?" Katrina''s gray eyes widened looking at the destroyed glove.


    Ellen smiled, "Nothing. Spikens are dumber than a box of rocks. I just waved the glove in front of its face and it bit down which let me kill it. If it hadn''t of surprised me I would have thought to use a stick or something... oh, well. There are more gloves where that one came from!" She raised an eyebrow, "I know I gave you an open invitation to the cottage, but you rarely use it. What''s the problem?"


    Katrina sat on one of the stumps Ellen used for chairs. "Two-fold I suppose. Cole is demanding I marry him."


    "That''s hardly new." She brushed some feathers away, "You told him he could shove his demands up his arse?"


    "Multiple times, but I think its so crowded with honor and duty, he can''t fit anymore up there." Katrina said a smile itching its way across her face.


    Ellen laughed. "That''s irritating, of course, but he has been insisting since you were ten or so. That can''t be the problem."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.            Katrina let out a great sigh, "He talked my parents into agreeing."


    "Not your father?" Ellen asked breaking off a leg with a sickening crack.


    Katrina shrugged, "So he says."


    Ellen snorted. "Not likely."


    Katrina raised her head, looking up at the older woman expectantly. Hopefully.


    Ellen sighed. "Your father is a hunter. I''m a hunter. We talk. I''m not saying he hates Cole, I''m just saying you would marry Cole over his dead body."


    Katrina choked out a laugh, "Good. Then that''s settled. I''ve been saying no for so long, but he wears on you. Knowing that my da supports me gives me strength."


    Ellen wiped the blood and feathers from her hands before patting Katrina on the back, "Now, what was the second thing?"


    Looking at Ellen, Katrina had a sinking feeling she should have mentioned this first. "Percival came back, I met him on the road and he said there is a draft."


    "They''re back! Think you could have led with that?" Ellen began packing up in a hurry. "I wouldn''t worry yourself about the draft. Either you''re drafted or you''re not. You don''t get a choice."


    Katrina sighed, "I suppose that''s true."


    Ellen shouldered the bag of strange game, "Well, if you are going to be here, mind waiting for Broden and helping him unload the wood I asked him to bring?"


    "Sure, Ellen." Katrina replied sullenly.


    Ellen, seeing that pathetic state Katrina was in, left the door open wide. Something she only did when someone was inside. Of all the people in Pode, Ellen best knew about the odd beasts that could make your home theirs if a door or window was left open. Spikens could be the least of many worries. Crocalyals for instance, were worse. Terrible beasts with moss green fur that grew around dung brown scales so hard they could shatter an axe swung by Broden. Had, in fact, done such a thing.


    The time passed in quiet solitude for Katrina. She hadn''t moved from the stump. She always thought it strange that Ellen used stumps as chairs. She was such a handy woman, but her furniture was barely an afterthought. It''s no matter I suppose. Ellen won''t ever change. Always doing some things with the wind and others against it. There would be no answers focusing on the oddities of Ellen. Anyway, that didn''t bother her. Just puzzled her slightly.


    Katrina''s deity, the goddess of storms, had given her several interesting gifts when she was chosen. One was the ability to create water from nothing. When she was thinking deeply, she liked to pour the water from one hand to the other.


    It was in this sorry state that Broden found her. He whipped a stick against the side of his cart, startling her.


    Katrina jerked her head up, seeing the stout dwarf standing by the cart still holding the stick in hand, "Oh, Broden! I forgot you were coming. Ellen asked me to help you unload the wood."


    Broden shrugged before gesturing his response, "You won''t be much help if you don''t help." He was dressed in animal skins like a wildman. They weren''t the cleaned and tanned skins Ellen would have given him. They were all skins he had hunted himself. The most distinct of which was a feline pelt he claimed was a lion. Most people thought it was a crocalyal pelt, but those that had seen a living crocalyal knew that Broden''s pelt lacked the reptilian features. It also didn''t have any scales, which all crocalyals had. However, since no one this far north had ever seen a lion, that was a frequent source of debate in the village. But only when Broden the Lionheart was not in town.


    Katrina nodded. Broden didn''t talk much. It wasn''t that he was mute, or deaf. He just didn''t like the whole business of speaking. His almost total commitment to not speaking left many of the people around town thinking him an idiot.


    Katrina began signing, "It looks like we may be drafted." She began relating to him the details as she knew them.


    "Well that''s excellent! My path has always been one of blood. Not of woodchips." He picked up his axe and brandished it for a moment.


    That was certainly true. Broden hunted trees because it needed to be done. Not for a love of trees. His skin was more a pelt itself and spoke of his dedication to living outdoors and in the cool northern sun. He even refused boots and his toe nails grew like nasty, dirt crusted talons. His beard and hair were believed to be black, but it was hard to tell under the filth.


    Katrina smiled sadly. She was eager. She had known forever she was made for more than Pode, but if war was coming, then she feared for her family. When all the able bodied youths left to die for the Northern Kingdom, who would protect their families from the strange creatures Ellen was keeping from the forest?

 #4 Into Danger!

    When all the youths Kegar had spoken to had come together, Sir Wilbur addressed them, "As you are all aware, the hunters were sent six days ago. Now, there''s no telling what they encountered but we know not one was able to return to make a report. So, it is clearly dangerous." He paused and looked out at the sea of young faces, I hope they understand the gravity of this situation, "One thing is certain. Six days ago, that spire of bone and flesh was not visible over the tree line. Now it is. That thing is growing. I want you to scout the outside of the spire and see what can be seen. If you should find the bodies of the other men, you are to bring them home so they can have a decent burial. Don''t go into the tower unless you absolutely must." Sir Wilbur looked around the group, "Where is Katrina? A holy warrior of her skill would be of great use."


    Cole shrugged, mentally fuming that his prowess was once again questioned, "She needs some time to regain her temper." Why can''t anyone see that I am her equal?


    Sir Wilbur opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it as if thinking better of his words, "Very well. You are a skilled choice as well. A priest of the sun god would certainly be useful against something so unholy."


    "Kegar brought news of the further spread of the desecration that has been coming from the spire. For this reason, I am placing him in charge of the expedition. Please remember, the goal here is the scout around the spire." Sir Wilbur tried to stress that they were not to enter the spire, but even as he was talking he could see them drifting off into their own delusions of grandeur.


    I''m so glad Lizzy isn''t going off with this buffoon. If he would consent to letting another lead, he might be able to learn something about leadership... but I expect the North and South Kingdoms will unite before Kegar willingly follows another. Sir Wilbur tried to give some additional advice for their journey but this group of youths was perhaps the most un-teachable group in the entire village.


    Shandra was simply too lost in her own experiments and thoughts to hear what he had to say. His only hope was that she remembered to apply the journals he had written in his youth. She had asked to read them some years ago. But while her mind was a steel trap when it came to the written word... applying these thoughts to the real world was another story. The journals were detailed accounts of his own adventures when he was a young knight, dungeons he and his friends had crawled through, monsters they had slain, puzzles they had solved.


    The young men around his table... Kegar, Cole, and Strozazand were the most pigheaded youths to ever be born in Pode. Strozazand was... young. With experience, kindness and encouragement he could probably develop into a great man. He has had some troubles being a bastard. I''m certain he can feel the tension. Neither his father nor mother speaks of it, and no one knows who the father was... Still, bastards can amount to great things.


    Only patience and compassion could redeem Cole or perhaps a swift blow to the head. I''ve owned enough mules to know trying to force that them into doing something they don''t want to do will not end well. The young cleric was so aggressive about his competence, it could only mean he was afraid that he didn''t know anything. Which he didn''t. But his digging his heels in only made him look more foolish. His understanding of honor is weak as well. He sets up arbitrary rules for himself to follow and expects the world to fall in line.


    Kegar though... Sir Wilbur looked at Kegar and sighed internally. It would be better for everyone if Kegar disobeys me, goes into the tower and gets killed. His death would solve a host of problems. Kegar was an arrogant prick who had somehow convinced Lizzy that he was a valiant hero. He could be charming, in an unpolished way, but Sir Wilbur saw through that bravado and false charm. He had seen too much at court in Capita to fall for Kegar of the Frozenpine. He knew that the dwarf wasn''t to be trusted. But if I were to put my foot down to prevent them from being together... he would take her off into the forest. I wouldn''t be able to protect her there. Better that she sees who he is on her own. Better if I am able to moderate the damage of their relationship...


    It was nearing high noon when the party left the table of Sir Wilbur and began trudging into the forest. They stopped when they ran into Kegar''s second cousin, Broden the Lionheart. Broden was felling trees in the forest, practicing his powerful swing, something he did every minute that he could.


    "Broden!" Kegar called to him.


    Broden looked up from his axe and seeing Shandra, came over. Broden had always liked the bookish Shandra, ever since they were kids. Pretty. Not that anyone other than Katrina knew, since she was the only person who could be bothered to learn and understand the complicated sign language.


    Kegar spent the better part of five minutes shouting at Broden and making large sweeping gestures to explain the groups'' intention to destroy the bone spire. When Broden''s sensitive ears could take no more of his cousins carrying on he shrugged and gestured that he would follow.


    Shandra stopped them. "I don''t mind him coming, but he is filthy."


    Broden smiled under the dirt. He liked being covered in wholesome soil.


    Shandra continued, "His stink will give away our position before anything has a chance to see us."


    Broden could see where this was going. He eyed her with growing concern. His dirt was a protective covering against soap. That terrible burning thing! Traditional soap was so caustic it could leave burns if left on for too long.


    Kegar looked at Shandra with skepticism, "We don''t have much time... a bath would take a long time."


    Shandra began waving her hands in intricate ways. A scarlet glow began weaving itself around Broden, "This won''t take but a minute."


    "Fine then." Kegar grumbled. She shouldn''t have started until I gave the order. This is my mission! "If it will help the mission."


    "It will." She said with a final flick of her wrist. A crimson web shot out from her hand, covering Broden in a cocoon for an instant. Then the magic and all the dirt disappeared.


    What remained was a shock. Broden''s hair and beard were a handsome glossy rose-gold that gleamed even in the poor light that struggled to filter through the trees. The supposed "lion" skin shone the same color. Without the filth caking lines into his face, Shandra found he actually had a rather pleasant face. His cheekbones were wide and now that his beard was smooth, it revealed a strong jaw line. He still had a dwarves'' sturdiness, but that blockishness was now combined with a fresh smelling man instead of the reek of old sweat.


    She smiled at Broden and he, finding the process hadn''t been painful in the slightest, smiled hesitantly back.


    "We can go now, Kegar." Shandra said looking at Broden still. The more she looked at Broden, the more her smile slipped into an appreciative one. Oh, he is actually quite handsome... With the dirt gone from his face, she could see that his eyes were a lovely cinnamon color that flushed redder with his smile.


    The party continued through the Sk¨®gur Forest. As Broden and Shandra walked they drifted closer to one another. Shandra hadn''t noticed any of the youths in town, she had been too caught up with her enchantments. I bet he would make a wonderful tower guard too! Her thoughts drifted off, trying to think of ways to increase Broden''s strength, ways to harden his skin. Maybe I could turn his skin to stone? Cheerful thoughts of magic spun through her head and she forgot why she was thinking about... making golems, wasn''t it?


    Broden, for his part, was just enjoying the floaty feeling he had walking near Shandra. He felt lighter, like his feet had wings and his arms were made out of steel. I will smash all the things for her. He was in unknown territory and at his most romantic.


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    When they reached the dead woods, Kegar pointed out the spot the previous group had tethered their horses. One horse was dead. It still had rotten grass stuck in its mouth. The horse had obviously attempted to eat the necrotic vegetation and had rotted from the inside out. "The other horses broke free and alerted me to their plight. But it was too late for this one."


    Shandra peered closely at the dead horse. "Now, Kegar, I''m no druid, but I don''t think it is natural for horses'' stomachs to explode from eating something foul. The others were experienced hunters. They wouldn''t tether their horses near something so poisonous." She adjusted her glasses to get a better look.


    Kegar nodded, "You''re right. This necrotic growth is not natural. Not only that, but it has spread since this morning. Most likely, they tethered their horses at a safe distance and this unholy growth spread to surround the horses."


    Cole touched the necrotic growth, "Unholy is right. This stuff is evil and where evil lingers the undead will eventually come. Keep a weather eye out."


    Strozazand, never known for his tact, spoke, "Well, it''s looking like we ended up with the right priest for the job! Doesn''t the god of the sun hate the undead more than anything?"


    Cole glared at Strozazand, "Praise the lord over the earth." Sarcasm rippled through his words.


    K?ttur, who was traveling with them at Kegar''s behest, sniffed the dead horse. After a careful once over, considered informing Kegar that he had scented the hunters but that they were covered in smells of death and the undead. However, on hearing Stroz''s comment about undead, K?ttur felt the young group had a handle on the gravity of the situation. Anyway, it was possible the hunters had merely been captured. Unlikely, but possible and the hunters were members of the community. It would be terrible for the children to go in thinking their friend''s fathers were already turned into something terrible.


    K?ttur cleaned his whiskers. He didn''t care for necrotic growth. It made his fur itch unpleasantly. Like he was suddenly covered in fleas.


    Not far away, the spire stood protruding from the ground. Paper thin flesh covered the bone tower. It looked like the tower would burst forth from the taut skin at any moment. Great ivory barbs jutted from the walls in a spiral going up the tower. The spikes were long and wide enough to be used as a staircase. The tower shuddered as if drawing a breath. Then the side facing them opened in a strange oblong entrance at the top of the spike staircase. Though the sun was still shining, the light was dim where it fell around the tower, the shadows were far deeper than they had any right of being. The smell of rotting meat permeated the air, making it heavy and rancid.


    "I wish Katrina were here to blow this stink away." Someone muttered.


    Cole frowned at his friends, "If only there was a priest of the sun to do combat with this necrotic infestation." With that Cole quietly prayed to the sun god and an orb of light appeared above him. The unnatural gloom shrank back from the light and the spire seemed to shudder before belching more foul air.


    Broden the Lionheart, who never spoke by choice, nodded his thanks to the priest before rushing up the stairs into the squishy opening with his woodcutting axe firmly in hand. He smiled thinking, Now that we have announced ourselves, we can commence the killing! Broden didn''t know what he faced, but to him, it clearly needed to be hacked to bits since it had sprung up on Sir Wilbur''s land without the lord''s permission.


    Strozazand, not to be outdone, sprinted in behind Broden. The muscles holding the gap open relaxed after each one entered, closing for a moment before opening back up. It was like it was breathing or swallowing.


    The inside was dark. This should have been expected, since the tower lacked windows. However, strangely, there was an ambient glow that brought the fleshy room to a false twilight. The stink was unquestionably worse and the confines of the "room" were cramped. This was made even more restrictive by the bone spikes sticking out of the walls like hedgehog quills.


    A fog lay across the ground obscuring any lurking horrors. Horrors that both Strozazand and Broden were certain prowled within the shroud of mist. They moved forward cautiously, their boots sinking into the floor like they were walking near a marsh. Three figures stood unmoving in the middle of the room.


    Strozazand squinted, trying to peer through the gloom, "Those guys don''t look like any of the hunters."


    Broden grunted acknowledgement, taking another cautious step forward. When Cole came through the hole, the light he had summoned outside came with him. It burned the fog away, exposing skeletons that were creeping toward them.


    Broden leapt on one in a fury, smashing it in the skull with his fist before cutting it down with his axe. Stroz inhaled before being tackled to the ground by one of the skeletons. He released the entire breath into the one pinning him, turning the bones to sticky, foul ash.


    Cole, who thought one of the emaciated figures was a hunter, attempted to pray to the god of the sun for healing for the man. "In the name of all that is pure, sweet and good, be healed!" When the pure light of healing pounced onto the man, his face twisted and he howled an unearthly cry, sending the others like him into a fury as they shambled at Cole.


    Shandra entered behind Cole. Upon seeing the twisted dead figures shambling toward Cole, she pushed up her glasses and pointed a finger at one of them. An orb of fire, the size of a marble, sprang from her finger, only singeing the dwarf and dargonman a little, as it sailed toward the ghoul and exploded. The magical fire ignited the foul air. Broden shielded his eyes from the flames that scorched the now writhing floor while launching himself at the remaining skeleton.


    When Kegar came in through the opening, it contracted a final time before sealing behind him. The bone spikes from the walls flowed in behind him and then jutted out toward his back. The spikes scraped against the hide armor Ellen had made for him, but couldn''t pierce it.


    "Damn it! Move in further!" He grunted trying to press forward.


    Shandra pressed backward, "There are undead things in here!"


    "Well then, kill them!" Kegar grumbled about his decision to leave K?ttur outside. It would have been really nice to have a huge snow leopard in here, but now that the door was closed he couldn''t change his mind. K?ttur could never have made it up the stairs anyway, which had prompted Kegar''s decision to tell him not to come up.


    Shandra took a few shaky steps forward, giving Kegar some breathing room. She flicked her now flaming hands and the fire that had burned the foul air began to slowly move about the room. The walls and floor that were scorched by her flames shivered and moved.


    The fire did a great deal to destroy the undead. So did the mute with the axe. Pathetic wailing rang in Cole''s ears, though no one else seemed to hear it. The other worldly shrieking pierced his mind. He was so taken aback by what he saw and heard that it was all he could do to maintain the glowing orb above his head.


    Once the last of the dead things had been burned to ash or dismembered, the room began to constrict. It seemed like muscles rippled in the walls, with each pulse pulling the walls closer. While the walls of the room pushed toward them with the great spikes jutting toward them, a small hole began opening in the floor below them. The portal led into darkness and more unknowns. It was like the tower was trying to swallow them into the next section. For a moment, the group looked at each other. There was a second of hesitation as they considered whether they wanted to go down, but with the walls closing in, promising a painful impaling, followed by a good crushing, they leapt down into the next room.

 #5 Drama From The Uninvited

    Mary looked up from her meal. The chicken and potatoes were at once burnt and yet tepid. "Lizzy? Is Stroz feeling okay? Everything is just a little bit cold..." This was unusual since normally it was burnt but at least it was hot.


    Lizzy grabbed Finos'' freshly poured tankard and stomped over to the bar.


    "Hey! I was drinking that." He called after her.


    Mary turned to Faute, "What''s up with her?"


    Faute sat down across from Mary and leaned toward her whispering, "Kegar came by a while ago and asked Strozazand to go into the bone tower with him." She glanced toward Lizzy, "He said she couldn''t come. That she would be useless."


    Finos hopped down from his bench and waddled on pudgy legs to the girls. "Faute, mind if I get another beer?" He looked at Mary and winked.


    Faute sat up straight and looked down at him haughtily, "Fine, get one."


    Finos sighed and walked toward the bar muttering to himself, "I just wanted her to get me another drink. I thought that''s what barmaids were for."


    Mary watched the hobbit stumble off, "You don''t have to be mean to him."


    "He''s a little creep and he hits on all the girls." Faute said, watching him out of the corner of her eye.


    Mary took a bite of the cold chicken, shuddered and put her fork down. "He just wanted a drink. He wasn''t hitting on you."


    That was the problem of course. Faute had made it clear to the whole village that she was better than them. It made her an abysmal barmaid. Finos Nimblequick was a flirt. He was charming and tried, playfully, to pick up every woman in town. Married or unmarried. Except for Faute. No one would accuse her of being jealous... but then, much like Shandra, she had a gift for the magic arts.


    Faute touched her slightly pointed ears, seeking reassurance, before pushing back her hair to reveal her well-known and over emphasized fae heritage to Mary. "I don''t know why he would bother to hit on a blue mutant like yourself!" She stood up and stalked off to the back room where her father, adopted father as she was insistent to tell everyone, kept the books.


    Mary looked down at the cobalt epidermis on her hand. Tears threatened. She knew she should have a thicker skin when it came to comments about her skin color. She had been blue her whole life and no one knew how or why, but it was still very hurtful. Knowing that she should be tough only made it worse really. The tears started to leak out. She had sniffed once when a slightly dirty hanky was thrust at her.


    Finos held out the hanky in one hand and held two mugs of ale in the other. "Here." He set the mugs down and hopped up on the bench. "Looks like everyone is having a bad day."


    Mary sniffed and wiped her eyes with the hanky, "What makes you say that?"


    He shrugged and took a pull on one of the ales, pushing the other toward her, "Well, certainly everyone in this tavern. You, me, I hardly need to explain. Lizzy is going to kill Kegar for obvious reasons. So that''s bad for both of them. Faute is angry, again." He shrugged again. "I don''t know if the day could get much worse."


    They both looked up as the door opened. Percival stepped through looking like a dandy. Seeing them he smiled and walked over. Percival snatched Mary''s pint as she was reaching for it, grabbed one of the available chairs in his other hand, and sat down. "I hope you don''t have plans, because I have news from Capita."


    He launched into a dramatic and drawn out description of the horrors they were about to face. He was no royal courtier - or courtier at all - to be under an oath to make him withhold what he knew about the message he was given. He was a merchant and he dealt in information as well as goods. Drumming up fear or excitement in the villagers would help them loosen their purse strings and purchase things for the journey ahead of them. Especially, if he hinted that his father may not be able to make a trip next year due to the unrest in the Northern Kingdom.


    Finos Nimblequick listened, while trying to maintain an almost bored look on his face. His attempt to look too worldly for such ideal speculation was foiled by the way he gripped his mug and his white knuckles.


    Mary, for her part, knew that she was a country bumpkin and ate it up unashamedly. Wars and rumors of wars were new topics for Pode and she was excited to hear about something other than how Danny Watson''s cow had escaped its pen and after some time in the forest was returned by a spidren, who told him the cow had gotten in with her milk thistles. When the cow dropped its calf, the calf looked normal, except that where it was supposed to be white it was green. After the calf was grown it produced mint colored milk with a strange taste, but it produced a great deal of it. Anyway, I''ve heard that story a hundred times and I''m ready for a new story to be talked to death.


    The door opened suddenly. Katrina''s boots thudded into the tavern room of the inn. She had bits of woodchips clinging to her bland tunic and pants. Sweat from recent labor clung to her forehead. She swiped her arm across her brow, streaking dust and sweat, leaving a wet patch on her sleeve.


    "Percival! While you''ve been gabbing away, some of us have been doing real work. Poor me a pint and slide down the bench." She gave him a playful shove and took a swig from his mug.


    "Gabbing?" He said with mock horror, "Gabbing? Well, I never! I have been informing these good citizens of the Northern Kingdom the state of things."


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    Katrina laughed, before calling to Faute, "A pint, please!"


    Mary nodded, her fuchsia hair bobbing around her ears, "It''s actually true. Things have been going on. Things that will effect us."


    Katrina took in Mary''s eagerness while she accepted her pint from Lizzy. Katrina noted Lizzy''s pinched face and that Faute had retreated into the back room. They aren''t having a pleasant day. Katrina leaned over to Mary and whispered, "What''s eating them?"


    Mary sighed, dragging her fingers through her short hair before responding in a hushed tone, "Well..." She related everything as she knew it. Hesitating when she spoke to the reason Kegar was forming a group to go into the spire.


    Katrina''s pale face lost all color, turning ghostly. Her red hair seemed to lose some of its lustrous shine, like the fire of her spirit had been dampened. Her gray eyes turned hard as steel. Mary saw the change in her friend at once and wavered in her tale, but Katrina motioned for her to continue.


    Mary finished the tale up with, "And that''s when you came in."


    Katrina nodded. It had been such a long time since her father had gone with the other hunters, of course her mother and she had feared the worst... but they clung to hope. They had to. I don''t know how we will explain this to the littles... her mind tried to shy away from the thought, she couldn''t pin it down. He might not be dead. Maybe he is just unable to come back. Taken prisoner or something. There is a... a chance.


    Percival rested a comforting arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His clothing was a much finer weft than her homespun clothes. It felt soft and smooth against her cheek. The stress and fear faded from her face as she breathed in the quiet strength he emanated. A hush fell across the table as they sat there in pensive silence.


    The quiet was broken by Faute clearing her throat behind Katrina and Percival, "That isn''t appropriate conduct for a woman promised to another man."


    Katrina''s head snapped up, the serenity shattered with that well placed barb. "I''m not engaged, as you well know." Her eyes sparked.


    Faute refused to back down, "Well, you could have fooled me. The way you make him prove himself and the hoops he jumps through. It''s all that''s ever talked about around here, what''s the next useless task you''ll force on a man that just wants to love you."


    Faute''s words confused everyone at the table. Not a single one of them had ever heard Katrina set a task before Cole. Even at ten, Katrina had been fairly articulate, though less sensitive... at that age, she had told him she would rather lick stones for a year then marry him. Now, she just told him "no".


    Finos, who often felt like Faute swapped the rules for what it meant to be a basic sentient being on him, spoke cautiously, "Faute, what in the nine hells are you talking about?"


    Faute''s face twisted in an ugly snarl. "Well, you would hardly understand. You aren''t even a fully sized man!"


    Her barb wounded Finos at the heart of his soul. He didn''t know why she was so cruel to him. All he wanted was for her to smile at him. She was so beautiful when she smiled those lovely satin lips. He couldn''t understand her anger. His greatest fear was that without any understanding of her anger, he would never be able to fix it.


    Katrina patted Finos'' arm as Faute stomped away without refilling any of their mugs. "Thanks for your support. I wish she would stop saying garbage like that."


    Finos shrugged, trying to dismiss it, "She says it so often, we all know I''ve developed a hard skin." He winked at them.


    The girls groaned and Percival laughed. After that the comradery was stilted. The understanding was lost, each floating about in their own wounds. Almost everyone in town had a talent: When Lizzy played her lute, everyone who heard her was enchanted by the heart of the song she played; Shandra made a potion for every eventuality. She also had blown up most of the town with her experiments, which is why Sir Wilbur had insisted she build herself a sturdy tower.


    Finos was constantly getting into places he didn''t belong. Not for malicious reasons, he was just always itching for a challenge. Sir Wilbur had tossed Finos out of the treasury on multiple occasions. Katrina always seemed to be at the right place at the right time. When John Walker nearly cut off his leg with an axe, she had been on her way to his home. All she could say about the instance was that she felt she had to go there... Faute''s talent and passion seemed to be being able to speak the exact words that would stir up the most strife and pain. It was strange how she could talk her way into a person''s confidence, even when they all knew her so well. She seemed to gobble up information and wedge herself into situations she didn''t belong.


    In moments when Katrina wasn''t aching with sorrow from the damage Faute had done, she believed that if Faute turned her thoughts to how to help instead of how to harm, she could do great things. But there was a deep fear and bitterness that festered inside Faute. It was rooted in the core of her soul and there was no one who knew how to prune the rot. All anyone could do was mitigate the damage done.

 #6 Destruction Complete!

    The second floor of the bone tower was also rimmed in spikes. A stream of bile flowed from one side of the room to the other. Across the acid rill was a fleshy pillar with a skeleton consumed by fire standing behind it. The flames licked up around it, blazing in bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The inferno maintained an unnatural hue. Though the skeleton was covered in fire, the flames clearly were not harming it.


    Two other skeletons rushed Stroz, grappling with him. Behind them, three emaciated humans with hungry eyes and hands that ended in talons lumbered toward them. The creature at the forefront had a distended belly and fresh blood covered it''s mouth and talons.


    Kegar slammed his staff into one of the skeletons, knocking it into the bile. It floundered for a moment, not trying to stay afloat, but instead still struggling to grab Kegar. It quickly went under.


    Broden leapt across the stream, tackling the flaming skeleton. He roared a primal scream, his head changing into the head of a lion and crunched down on the creature shaking it until it came apart. When he looked up, his vision was different. The world was bluer and he could see quite well in the low light of the tower room. The smell of singed fur mixed with the smell of rotting flesh.


    "By the gods!" Cole shouted, looking over at Broden.


    Kegar stole a glance at his cousin, "There isn''t time for that Cole, watch yourself!" He jabbed one of the emaciated humanoid things, pushing it away from Cole.


    The thing reached for Cole again, but was knocked to the ground when Broden threw his axe, splitting its head and part of its body. Broden leapt across the foul stream before rushing to impose himself between the emaciated thing and Shandra.


    Shandra reached a hand around Broden''s mane and let off another fireball. The monsters shrieked. The sound tore through the adventurers. Cole shrieked and fell to his knees, clamping his hands over his ears. The light he was maintaining winked out.


    Kegar grabbed Cole by his collar and pulled him up, "Cole!" Kegar smacked him, "Pull yourself together and bring that light back!"


    The flames from the dead creatures continued to burn, allowing them to see. Strozazand began breathing more fire as the things shambled toward them. Great torches of burning flesh stretched out their clawed hands.


    "Breathe something else! You''re just setting these on fire!" Kegar screamed at Strozazand while trying to fend off one of the burning creatures.


    Broden had had enough of their irritating screams. He shook his mane and roared out a challenge. Grabbing his axe from the corpse it was resting in, he waded toward the pillars of fire and began smashing them. While Broden was hacking, Kegar was able to pull Cole together.


    "We need light. Call on your deity."


    Shaking, Cole was able to pray to the god of the sun. A ball of pure sunlight, smaller than the last, appeared above his head. "There it is."


    Once the final creature was no longer moving Strozazand began looking through the room for valuables. He didn''t find any. He did find Faute''s father, Chanceux. The man was partially embedded into the floor and from what Strozazand could see of him, being eaten. Chanceux was mostly unconscious, but when Strozazand brought his ear to the man''s lips he could hear him rambling about dead things everywhere.


    Kegar walked over to Strozazand, "We can''t go back."


    Strozazand pointed at Chanceux. With everyone working together they were able to pull him free of the floor. Chanceux''s legs were partially dissolved. Great chunks of his muscles had been stripped from his body.


    Cole began to pray over him, but stopped after only a moment. "Something is blocking me. I can''t heal him."


    Broden picked Chanceux up gently, being careful of his legs. He looked around for a moment before the floor opened up. Everyone could see another floor below. Looking in from above there didn''t seem to be anything in it. Carefully they jumped down, one by one. There were no monsters in the room, only a pillar. The pillar had a series of glowing lights.


    Shandra stepped up to it. "This looks like a puzzle."


    Kegar nodded at the pillar, "What makes you say that?"


    "Oh," Shandra smiled, "well, it looks exactly like one of the puzzles Sir Wilbur described in one of his journals." Sir Wilbur had let her read the journal when she had asked for additional reading material. He had told her that anyone pledged to his house could read them.


    "You''ve read his journals?" Kegar barked. His face burned with fury. Sir Wilbur doesn''t let anyone read his journals! He had said only his house could read them and I wasn''t of his house. He fumed, He was just trying to keep things from me! Kegar had forgotten that he insisted that he was outside of Sir Wilbur''s jurisdiction because he was a druid. He had forgotten his claims that only nature could command him because of his status. It was in that moment that he had demanded to see the journals. Sir Wilbur had declined.


    She nodded, "He gave them to me to read when the first group of hunters went to investigate the tower. He said that if the dead were rising up," she glanced at Cole, "his words not mine, then we should send a message to Capita after we had gathered all the information we could. He seemed to think we would need as much experience as we could gather."


    Kegar frowned. If he was going to marry Lizzy like they wanted, he felt that he should know Sir Wilbur''s history. Sir Wilbur would have to start giving him authority and access to information.


    "Done!" Shandra said. "Now, pressing this light should open a door or something." Before anyone could stop her, she pressed the central light. The light flashed brilliantly and she was gone.


    Broden grunted and rushed forward smashed his fist into the central light. The others tried to calm him, but there was no reasoning with him. He struck the light over and over to no avail, and then suddenly he was gone.


    He appeared in another room standing on a circle, still holding Chanceux with one hand. Shandra was barely fending off two ghouls that had wrestled her to the ground just to the left of the edge of the circle.


    The ghouls'' flesh was hanging off in swaths. Bones protruded from their fingers. Their clutching claws were entangled in her robes, shredding the cloth with their nails. A boot held off one ghoul. Its single minded determination to tear into her face prevented it from being distracted by her exposed leg. Shandra held the other ghoul''s arms in her own, trying to keep them off her face.


    Broden dropped Chanceux behind him just off the edge of the circle and roared. The strength of his roar was so primal and powerful it echoed in the living room. The ghouls shuddered and turned their lifeless eyes on him. He grabbed the ghouls and began bashing their heads together until they stopped twitching and their heads turned to a soupy black mush. The other adventurers had come in behind him one at a time, as the circle was cleared. They picked up the wounded man and dragged him to a far corner.


    Once again, the floor opened up. This time the walls and floors contracted, pushing them into a much wider room. The floor was covered in a red, sticky, viscous substance.


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    Shandra looked at her boots, the shreds of her clothing hanging about her boots, and bemoaned, "Oh bother, I''m never going to get the smell out of these." Her statement seemed ridiculous after having just rolled on the strange floor of the room above.


    Cole turned slightly green looking at the fluid, "Your boots were done for when we came into the tower."


    The sticky substance congealed into a mass with a snot-like consistency. The thing jiggled slightly. A stench far worse than the rest of the tower came over them. Shandra and Kegar fell to the fleshy floor vomiting until they had nothing left.


    Cole blessed Broden and Strozazand so they shown like the sun. The two axe wielders jumped at the gelatinous mass and began striking it, but they only managed to carve off smaller blobs.


    Shandra struggled with her belt pouch trying to pull out the same kind of healing potion she had used on Kegar earlier that day. Her hands were shaking and each time a wracking, shudder ran through her mind skittered across where she thought the healing potions were and where her hand actually was. Finally, she was able to pull out a potion. Her eyes were so full of tears she couldn''t even tell what color it was. It looked reddish, but her eyes blurred.


    One of the blobs Broden had cleft from the mass struck her, knocking the vial out of her shaking hand. The blob absorbed the vial and bounced into the wall. The impact of the blob on the spikes ruptured the vial. An explosion vaporized the gelatinous shard and blackened the spikes protruding from that wall.


    As Shandra continued to gag as a thought whispered through her mind, That was certainly fortuitous... I need to make a brightly colored label for those fire potions. I can''t have red as both health and fire...


    The rest of the blobs dispersed into the blood on the floor. Broden tried to cleave the thing in half, but as fast as his axe parted it, it reformed behind the blade. When his axe was halfway through the mass it became stuck. Broden was so focused on trying to pull the axe out, he didn''t notice that the fluid was creeping up his legs, trapping him.


    When Stroz looked over from his own attacks, Broden was completely engulfed and being pulled into the gelatinous creature.


    "Cole! Do something!" Stroz cried, afraid to breathe on the monster in case it harmed Broden.


    Cole stumbled backward, tripping as the organic floor sunk under his heel. He outstretched his hand and called upon his deity, "The sun''s flame!" A white line appeared in the air above the blob. Tendrils of the sun''s fire reached out toward the blob and struck it before the heat and line faded away.


    The stink of burning blood was overpowering. Kegar and Shandra continued to void their stomachs.


    The blob, jiggled angrily before projecting Broden into Cole. Broden hit Cole like a heavy, dwarven, battering ram, sending both of them crashing into the spike covered wall. It was good fortune that Cole hit the wall first since he was wearing his heavy crocalyal armor. If it had been anyone else they would have been utterly impaled. As it was, the spikes gave Broden and Cole some nasty scratches, but nothing serious.


    The thing had been diminished in size after Cole''s attack. But with Cole and Broden''s blood flowing into the blood on the ground, it began to regain some size. The mass swelled upward before bursting. The spatter exploded outward passing through the group leaving them feeling weak.


    Stroz was having none of it. He was dargon. No slimy creature that didn''t even have a head to beg for mercy with was going to defeat him. As the blood began to pool back together, he let loose a breath of artic cold. The cold struck the fluid, freezing it solid. He grabbed his axe and struck the ice with the butt of his weapon, shattering it.


    Cole looked at the shards on the ground, "Excellent work Tommy." He paused, "I mean Strozazand."


    Stroz glared at Cole for a moment before nodding. As he walked over to pick up Kegar and Broden helped the gagging Shandra up, the floor shuddered and heated up. The bloody fluid melted and began reforming.


    Strozazand snarled at the oozing form. His fists clenched and the tattoo on his back began to ripple. The tattooed wings seemed to flutter against his back, stretching in his skin. The black outline began to shift toward midnight blue, the tattoo itself transitioned from the sun burnt skin of his youth to harder, blue scales. Stroz inhaled to finish the creature off.


    Cole stretched out his hand, "By the suns light!"


    A light so bright it blinded everyone that had kept their eyes open for more than a moment, flashed from the orb above Cole. The viscous substance burst into a flash of ash. The walls were scorched and blackened from the holy light that passed through the youths without touching them; except where it burnt away the offal on their clothes. The tower shuddered again and burst apart, spraying decaying flesh and flinging the town youths to the edge of the clearing. The collapsed remains of the tower sunk into the ground so that all that was left was a single spike from the top of the tower.


    Strozazand struggled to his feet. His tattoo began to fade back to its previous color, his skin returned to skin rather than scales, but the lines on the tattoo remained a barely noticeable midnight blue. He looked around the clearing for a moment before hefting his axe and heading toward the spike.


    "What are you doing?" Said Cole.


    "I''m taking the spike. Never know when it will be useful." Strozazand said hacking the spike off. The strength that had poured into him in those last moments were beginning to fade, but the energy begged him to do something. Begged him to take something for his hoard.


    Cole took the time Strozazand was wasting to use some of his healing chants to cure his sick friends. He then turned to looked over Chanceux more closely. Chanceux was feverish. Cole recoiled in horror, "He has been bitten by a ghoul! I... I... don''t have the power to cure him. If we don''t get him to someone that can help him soon, he will die and come back as one himself."


    Kegar picked up Faute''s father, "We''ll get you home." Then he turned to Cole, "Can you check to make sure that won''t be coming back?"


    Cole nodded, his god really did hate the undead. Cole stood over the remains of the tower and tried to commune with his deity. He clasped his hands together and looked toward the sun. Even after he had summoned the light and burned away the gloom, the sunlight was still weak. He felt the pressure of death and the unclean on his skin. It was a open clearing now that the tower was gone, yet the sun still did little to warm his skin.  "I have a feeling the tower isn''t dead yet. The grounds here haven''t been cleansed."


    As the group carried Chanceux back toward Pode, a woman spied from a shadow on the other side of the clearing. The aeaeae clung to her, preventing her from stepping all the way through. She sighed, pulling the remaining shadows about her like a cloak. "Time to execute Plan B."

 #7 Capita?

    When the exhausted group returned with the sole survivor, Sir Wilbur and Lady Elizabeth were waiting for them with the town''s head priest, Father Franklin, a gnome priest of wealth. Father Franklin had been at the births of each of them - including Sir Wilbur who was eighty-five. The Father was something of an oddity. Pode was the poorest village in the entire country, yet their head priest was someone who dedicated his life to a deity that prized money above all things. Father Franklin, when questioned why he was there gave vague and uncommitted answers.


    Once, when Percival had managed to get the old gnome slobbering drunk on some rock-wine, the gnome had begun to babble in gnomish. Percival tried to be a scholar of all languages, it give him an edge in negotiations. Still, he only could understand a small amount of the Father''s words. It seemed that he believed, contrary to the standard teaching of his priesthood, that there were things of value that were equal to money. It was because he had professed this belief so strongly, that he had banished to Pode. A place reviled by his priesthood because of its poverty.


    Percival, being the kind of man who couldn''t keep his mouth shut on good information and who knew that Father Franklin had been the center of an intense debate, has told Katrina what he had discovered. Katrina, as a priestess who had been touched by her goddess, thought it was very interesting that Father Franklin could access his gods power at all given the view he held on money. Katrina, under Father Franklin''s tutelage, had learned that it was common for the deities to withhold their power if their followers walked contrary to their code.


    The priest peered into the gloom, with an absent-minded flick of his wrist he summoned a golden globe of light. The light cast a hue of yellow that seemed to make the world more luxurious. The daylight was fading, but between the two sources of light it was bright enough to see the sorrow in Father Franklin''s face when he saw the lone survivor.


    Tears streamed from Sir Wilbur''s eyes as Father Franklin shook his head, "I can restore his body, but I can do nothing for the fever."


    Sir Wilbur''s bowed head came up, "Fever? I might have a scroll from my wilder days..." The lord turned to Lizzy, "Bring me my scroll case." Lizzy ran off toward the manor.


    She ran up the stone staircase of the front entrance. The stone had been smoothed by her grandfather, himself. None of the peasants had time to tend to superficial details like that. The people of Pode were concerned with crops: planting and harvesting. They concerned themselves with the beasts coming from the forest: hunting them and protecting themselves from them. Aside from that they didn''t have much additional time. In fact, if Sir Wilbur didn''t subsidize the tavern, there would have been no way for it to stay open.


    Her feet pounded on the finely crafted ironwood flooring as she sprinted to the second floor where Sir Wilbur kept his office. His door was open, as always, leading to a militarily precise room. It was very square and functional. There were only two luxuries in the entire office. The first, was a great window that went from floor to ceiling behind his desk. The window had panes of clear, un-disfigured glass. It wasn''t completely frivolous since it saved Sir Wilbur on candles and gave him an excellent view of the town. But it was horribly expensive and it could only be managed because the king, Tiranious, of the Northern Kingdom had given it to him as a wedding present, some sixty years prior.


    The second luxury in the office was a large painting, resting in the center of the wall directly across from the window. It was positioned such that whenever Sir Wilbur wished to look at it all he needed to do was look up from his work. The painting was a portrait Lizzy had done when she was thirteen years old. She had been given a very fine set of paints on her birthday the year before and she had spent the whole year practicing. For her thirteenth birthday she had requested her now deceased father, Sir Wilson, sit for her. The result hung in Sir Wilbur''s office. It was a passable resemblance. It was a passable resemblance in the way a duck gives a passable resemblance of an eagle.


    The scroll case was in a strongbox behind the painting. Lizzy pushed the painting aside with a mixture of shame, pride and longing. It delighted her to no end that her grandfather hung her work proudly... I just wish I could give him something better than that... disaster.


    She rested her hand on the frame for a moment. Her father had been summoned by the king, shortly after the painting was completed, to fight against the Lizard folk in what later came to be known as the Dwarf Wars. He had fallen in battle when the Northwestern Dwarves turned on the Northern Kingdom and gave succor to the Lizards. There was no time for her to practice and no chance of starting again. Still, her grandfather never hesitated to remind her that the painting was his most prized possession, since it commemorated both his beloved son and granddaughter.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    The strongbox was unsurprisingly, unlocked. Finos has been in here again. She sighed. A note of apology laying on the top of the contents confirmed that. She rummaged through account books until she came to the scroll case.


    "Finally!" She murmured before closing everything, locking the case, and running back to her grandfather.


    She handed the box to her grandfather, who even in the gravity of the situation, greeted her with a smile. Like he always did. Then, Sir Wilbur flipped through the scrolls before pulling one out and handing it to Father Franklin.


    Father Franklin smiled, "Yes, this is just what we needed." He read the scroll aloud in a strong voice that masked his great age. When he finished chanting the scroll shown like gold and then crumbled to dust.


    Immediately, the fever broke. Chanceux stopped shivering, his skin lost the greenish pallor and he stopped sweating profusely.


    Franklin patted Chanceux''s hand, "Carry him to the temple. I will pray over him and all will be well."


    Faute, who had heard the commotion and come to investigate, saw them lifting her adopted father onto a makeshift stretcher. "Father!" She ran to his side, "What''s happened to him?" She lifted the blanket they had over his lower body and gasped, dropping the blanket back over his legs.


    Lizzy turned to her friend, "They just came back from the tower. He was the only one to come back from the first group."


    Faute paled, looking away from the man that raised her, "Well, even if he isn''t my father, at least he lived. My mother will be happy." She straightened her spine and carefully walked back to the tavern.


    Percival saw the sad homecoming and backed away toward Sir Wilbur''s manor. This was unexpected. His father had always told him that a merchant needed to gather all the information he could. A merchant needed to be there to sell a broken man a match in his darkest hour. This sight was too much for him. Pode was his father''s last stop of the year, every year. He had spent great swaths of his life with these people and it felt wrong to capitalize on their pain.


    Francis grabbed his arm hard and pulled his son close to him, "Do you know why we come to Pode last?"


    Percival shook his head.


    "Because this is a town of backwater idiots that have no idea what they need. I sell them everything we couldn''t sell to more perceptive crowds. They have no idea they are being swindled and they never will because these people never leave." He gripped his son''s arm harder, "Do you know the other reason we come here?"


    Percival looked up at his father, his face going pale. These were his friends. Of course he knew his father sold them some things at a bit of a mark up, they were merchants. A fair price was like fairy dust. A myth.


    "We come here because the flotsam of the world washes up on this ridiculous shore. We are the only merchants that can be bothered to come to this podunk town and scavenge through the wrack. I don''t care if we fleece these fools and you don''t either. Now, go and sympathize. Get the information I want and sell them some new tools."


    Francis released Percival and shoved him forward. Percival stumbled slightly, before his natural balance recovered him. He pasted a smirk on his face - he never could fake a genuine smile - and sauntered up to Sir Wilbur.


    "It is lucky you had a scroll that could cure ghoul fever. Will you be needing more?" Percival stuffed his fists into his pockets.


    Sir Wilbur looked over at Percival, "I think I have enough, thank you Percival. Your father and your help has always been greatly appreciated."


    Percival tried not to grimace. His father never gave help. Neither did he. "Think nothing of it. We always appreciate your hospitality."


    Sir Wilbur nodded. "Please excuse me, I need to tell the families of the fallen." Sir Wilbur nodded and walked away.


    Percival gulped, brushed the back of his hand against his forehead and retreated to his room. Perhaps he would go with his friends in the draft? That was absurd. He would be much better off going to live with his grandfather Talasht. But there was a war brewing. Perhaps he would travel with them for a while? Percival shook his head and began to dress for dinner. If he was about to tell everyone their lives were changing, the least he could do is look appropriate.

 #8 Dissension In The Ranks

    Author''s Note:


    This chapter is updated as of 16/5/16. Hope you enjoy the additional information. I''ll be trying to beef up the rest of the chapters as well!


    *********************************************************************************


    Sir Wilbur called all the youths of the town, even those that hadn''t gone into the tower, to his supper table that night. He had his cook, Shannara, who was also Shandra''s mother, make a feast for them. An entire spiken was cooked, dressed, and then repositioned so that it looked almost lifelike. Shandra''s mother was a clear indication of where Shandra got her¡­ eccentric inclinations from.


    The spiken''s thick, sweet legs were posed so it looked like it was resting on them, poised to leap. It wasn''t, which was demonstrated when Sir Wilbur took one and cracked it open without disturbing what remained of the sculpture. The legs rested in a thick green sauce that had been artfully designed to look like the forest floor, complete with tiny nuts which looked like insects and insects that looked like nuts. The insects had a creamy texture and tasted like chocolate, no one had ever gotten sick from eating them except for Francis, that one time five years ago or so, but everyone knew he had a weak stomach. Powdered crocalyal shell, which tasted like powered sugar but was tough on the stomach, if you weren''t used to it, had been used to give the illusion of spiken webs.


    Shandra''s mother was known for her food sculptures. Given the slightest excuse she would create whole bizarre, fantastical stories about them. Compared to Lizzy''s last birthday, what she had done for dinner was tame. Lizzy''s birthday had featured dargons of almost every color: blue, brown, grey, black, green, orange, purple and white. One was even rainbow colored and made to sparkle with iridescent scartle shells. The piece had centered around three dargon flights fighting for dominance over the table. It had been quite the achievement and everyone had regretted the need to eat it. Sir Wilbur let her do what she wanted because she was a fantastic cook.


    The second main dish was sculpted to look like a kraken enveloping a ship in its tentacles. The kraken''s part was played by a land octopus. Which unsurprisingly looked very similar to an ocean octopus, but tended to be more goopy and was venomous if not properly prepared. As it cooked, the spines leaked their poison back into the creature, tenderizing the meat. The meat then had to be cooked for an additional twelve solid hours to bake out all of the poison. Since it was Sir Wilbur''s favorite dish, he considered the extra time and expense well worth it.


    The ship was made from stacked cuts of cowbra meat. Domestic cowbra, of course, not even the people of Pode were dumb enough to tangle with the wild red, brown or black cowbra which were both venomous and poisonous. The domestic cowbra resembled a snake that could be milked and had legs. It''s white scaled hide had great black splotches on it, making it completely incompatible with the vivid colors of the woods and unable to survive in the wild Sk¨®gur Forest. When threatened, it tended to coil in on itself, trying to hide it''s vitals. It was also dumber than a box of lifeless bricks and didn''t perceive a threat until something started eating it. They had been known to drown in the rain, looking up with mouths open at whatever was hitting them on the head. Sir Wilbur had lost an entire herd of them once because a wild cowbra slithered into a pen and ate three of them before the rest knew there was a problem and started making their crooning hissing cries of distress. Not that anyone could stop the creature, they just had to wait for it to leave and hope it left to full too look for any additional snacks.


    The waves that both the ship and kraken rested in were made from whipped cowbra milk, sweetened with crocalyal powder. The waves had been dyed blue by using froten eggs and purple by using froten tadpoles. Tiny figures made out of tree slime were clutched in the tentacles of the kraken.


    The final dish was considerably tamer, though massively more inappropriate, than the other two. It was a simple lamb dish made to look like a small town being overrun by lizard folk. The lamb''s organs had been candied to look like little fires around the town. When Sir Wilbur saw it come out, a frown had struggled with his mustache before he turned to Shannara with a smile. "You''ve outdone yourself once again!"


    Shannara grinned, squeezing her hands behind her back, "I''m glad you like it. I feel like I might have gone a bit overboard this time, but when the inspiration strikes¡­ there is nothing I can do about that."


    Sir Wilbur had smiled and thanked her, sighing inwardly. She says that every dinner, but I''ve never seen her even try to plate dinner in what could be considered a normal fashion. His eyes had lingered on the flaming town, so much like his own. It''s delicious; she''s probably just upset about Shandra leaving.


    After much of the group had finished eating their delicious and strange meal, Sir Wilbur stood up and began to address the group, "My thanks to the group of the hour. Without your help, not only would we still be under the shadow of that dark tower, but Chanceux would have been lost with the others."


    Katrina wiped her eyes surreptitiously. The family had known he was probably dead, but it was one thing to infer his death from his continued absence and another thing to have only one member of the group be brought back alive. Without her father to care for the family, they would be hard pressed to withstand the coming months.


    It was a good thing the town was so close knit. The community would rally together and help each other survive until Katrina''s siblings grew large enough to help sustain their family. I wish I could stay with them. They need my help. What if one of the little ones gets sick? Katrina wasn''t normally one to indulge in her fears, but she had never had to worry about her family before. Her father had been a strong, steady, secure man and she had never feared that he would allow bad things to happen to her mother or siblings.


    "However, Cole tells me that the tower has not been completely cleansed from the land. Having this danger lurking over us makes it imperative that we send a delegation to inform the king." Sir Wilbur folded his hands, "Even if the tower were not still a threat we would have to report it to the king in Capita. It is not a good sign of the state of the realm when the undead begin to encroach."


    Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Broden continued to masticate his cowbra steak, the juices dribbled out of the corners of his mouth into his beard. He was largely there for the food, it wasn''t often that he bothered cooking his own food. Delicious¡­


    Kegar squared his shoulders. Even though it means going into a large city, if I''m ever going to demonstrate that I''ll make a good lord, I need to take this responsibility. He hadn''t heard about the draft.


    "Also, Percival and Francis returned from Capita this morning. Percival has brought me word from the king. It is something you are all required to hear." Sir Wilbur sat back in his chair and gestured to Percival who stood. "Please, skip the formalities."


    Percival nodded. His eyes scanned the document for a moment before beginning, "Sir Wilbur... as a peer of the realm... you must send a levy of soldiers to defend Capita... all the militia... in fact, all adults, including common women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-seven, excepting if they have children... even singletons must report... as well as a representative of your person." He scanned the document for a moment, "Members will be compensated according to their contribution at such a time that it may be made available... His royal highness... etc." Percival sat down.


    Ellen listened in shock. In spite of how she struggled to remain calm, horror crept into her eyes. The others were too young to understand the necessity of those exceptions. Things must be truly dire if they aren''t giving exceptions! Those exceptions were how a country maintained its food supply during a war. With that declaration, the king had told the entire country that they were beset so strongly that they would be better off starving in winter. For without hands in the fields, they would be starving in the coming winter.


    Silence permeated the room. Katrina used Finos'' hanky to wipe her eyes before handing it back to him, "Excuse me, my lord. But if we all go to war, who will till the fields?" She glanced to where Ellen was seated, "Who will prevent the strange beasts from killing the sheep? Or mating with the chickens?"


    "As in any war time, some will make sacrifices to the kingdom. While you are away, there will be a group effort to come together and set things to rights." Sir Wilbur rose again, "For myself, I would love to go and fight for my kingdom, but I am getting long in the tooth. So I have chosen to send my soon-to-be grandson Kegar in my stead." I can only hope that Kegar will leave and, on the journey, find someone else in the chaos of the world or perhaps with Kegar far away, Lizzy will move on to someone more considerate and more acceptable.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Sir!" Kegar stood, eyes bright with unshed, manly tears. I didn''t know he felt that way... I always felt like I would have to elope with Lizzy... He thought about the bag he had told Lizzy to pack. I guess we won''t need to run away.


    Lizzy smiled looking at Kegar. That is, she smiled until she realized that Kegar was going to be her grandfather''s representative, not her.


    "Kegar, you have always been like a son to me." A disobedient, headstrong, arrogant son, he thought. "I am honored to have you marry my granddaughter." He took Elizabeth and Kegar''s hands and joined them, "Even if you are a dwarf!"


    "Am I not worthy of going?" Lizzy looked at her grandfather.


    "Lizzy, you are worthy of many things. Unfortunately, we live in a world where it is better to be a man and a dwarf than a woman and a human. Though it is only slightly better, and only better in certain situations." He looked around at the other women at the table and sighed, "Ladies. Your femininity does not save you from the draft. The lords are aware enough to realize that common women can fight. They do not however recognize a woman''s sovereign right over herself." He sighed again, "It would be better for your sakes if Kegar was not a dwarf. But he is. Even so, he is a worthy man, one I put my complete faith in. He will lead you well." Sir Wilbur poured confidence into his words. Please follow him, please believe in him.


    Each of them would be going off to war on the king''s command. Some of them - those unconsumed by duty - knew they could have shrugged off the king''s command. He was far away and his most intimate moment was sending his tax collector to hassle their parents. Sir Wilbur was different. His calm regard weighed on them. Even the most self-serving and disobedient among them would be hard pressed to willfully disappoint Sir Wilbur.


    A collected mental sigh went up from them. They were headed for war.


    The next morning, after they had said goodbye to their families, kissed their mothers, hugged their siblings and been pulled into hearty bear hugs by their fathers - with the exception of Katrina - they stood before Sir Wilbur who personally gave each of them a finely crafted weapon.


    The majority of the weapons had been made by Ellen. Sir Wilbur hadn''t known this was coming, exactly. But he had been good friends with King Tiranious a long time ago and they still exchanged letters nearly every time Francis came into Pode. He had heard a few details here and there, but he had seriously begun stockpiling weapons after his son had died during the dwarven betrayal.


    Many of these weapons were crafted from the most dangerous creatures in Sk¨®gur Forest. They were stronger than non-magical steel, they wouldn''t break for a long time which was exactly what this group of inexperienced adventurers needed to help them along. The poisons had long since dried up, of course, and even if they hadn''t the poisons wouldn''t last more than a strike or two.


    What Sir Wilbur didn''t know, was that Percival had been buying and stockpiling the interesting Sk¨®gur venoms. Ellen had made a tiny fortune off the lad. Over the years of traveling with his father, Percival had invested in a few magical items, one of which was a small box that was bigger on the inside. Anything he put in there was frozen in time, so even though some of the poisons he had purchased were over ten years old, they were as fresh as the day he had purchased them.


    Once the weapons were distributed, the group started the weeklong journey eastward to Capita. As the days passed they fell into a routine and became increasingly annoyed with one another. As the sun set on the fourth day Kegar realized they were being followed.


    He called his animal companion over to him. The two conferred for a moment. Kegar with whispers and K?ttur with hushed mmmers of a grumbling large feline, before K?ttur eventually stalked off.


    Not long after, there was a shriek and K?ttur appeared with Lizzy in his mouth, "Lizzy?" Percival followed behind at a slow jog.


    Faute exclaimed, "I''m glad to see you are no longer willing to let your man do your job for you!"


    The long list of things that Lizzy had expected people to say when they finally knew she was following them had not included righteous indignation and accusations of cowardice. "What?"


    Kegar looked at Faute for a moment in horror before turning to his betrothed, "What are you doing here? You could be hurt!"


    Lizzy was trying to look dignified, which was difficult given her position in K?ttur''s mouth, "I couldn''t stay away knowing you could be hurt and I did nothing! Anyway, the king requested all the able bodied youths. It would be remiss of me, both as one such youth and as the grand daughter of Sir Wilbur to not come."


    "I will take you back myself!"


    "And forfeit your responsibility?"


    Kegar''s jaw clenched, "Very well. I will find someone in Capita to take you back."


    Percival stepped forward. "Kegar, did you stop to think why I was with her?"


    Kegar was taken aback, "What? No..." He looked from one to the other, "Why are you with her?"


    Percival shrugged and leaned against a tree, "Because Sir Wilbur didn''t have a problem with her coming. The Captia lords won''t let her lead the levee because she is a woman, but that doesn''t mean she is any less able. Sir Wilbur hired me to be her bodyguard. But he also knew you would protest to her coming, so we were to follow behind until it was too late for her to be returned to Pode." He shrugged, "I suppose it is too late now."


    Katrina watched the exchange with Broden. She signed to him, "There is so much honor here, it is a wonder they can move with it stuck up their asses."


    Broden signed back, "They let their honor get in the way."


    "Of what? Their relationship?"


    "Killing."


    Katrina laughed, replying aloud, "You said it Broden!" She slapped him on the back.


    The rest of the group looked over at Katrina and Broden. Broden had obviously said nothing, though he seemed to be laughing in a grunting sort of way. This, on the whole, confused them. Ellen watched the exchange with interest. She had long known that Katrina could communicate with Broden in a way no one else could, though Ellen was one of the few that understood Broden wasn''t deaf and could understand when people made requests of him. Some of the others began thinking that maybe Broden could be communicated with. Others, though they were in the minority, thought Katrina must be crazy because clearly if there was a way to speak to the fool they would have already discovered it.


    The rest of the trip was uneventful. With the exception of Cole pulling Katrina aside to talk.


    "You shouldn''t lead him on."


    "Cole, I have no idea what you are talking about, let alone who."


    "Broden, he obviously cares for you, but you are already betrothed."


    "First off, I''m not betrothed. I turned you down. Which makes this none of your damn business. Second, I will not abandon my friend just because it makes you feel insecure about something you don''t have. Third, he likes someone else. We are just friends, something we can be since we both know the same language."


    "Broden doesn''t speak."


    "Yeah, and he is illiterate too." She held up her hands, "We talk with our hands and our bodies."


    Katrina was talking about the complex language of flexing ones muscles and gestures that she and Broden had come up with. People constantly underestimated their intelligence. Cole, who didn''t really pay attention to what they did, hadn''t noticed it. He had really only noticed the amount of time she spent in Broden''s company rather than his.


    "Next I''m sure you''ll tell me to spend less time with Ellen, Mary and Strozazand. I have friends and who they are isn''t your concern."


    "Your mother made it my concern."


    Katrina glared at him, "If you want to be in my family so bad, go home and marry my mother, but leave me out of your delusions." Katrina rode off to chat with Mary.


    Cole sat glumly on his mule. He wasn''t delusional. He wouldn''t give up on their parents dream for them. Unfortunately, Katrina was unwilling to talk to him for the rest of the evening and in the morning they saw the gates of Capita.

 #9 Prophesies

    Author''s Note:


    This chapter has had a lot of additional content be added. (17/5/16)


    ***********************************************************************


    Daybreak found Kegar awaking with a start. Sleeping next to someone is still so new! As was awaking next to someone in his bedroll. He smiled into his beard, a blush spreading across his face. His eyes lingered on Lizzy, the blanket pulled up to her chin to ward off the dawn chill.


    Her grandfather would never have let him sleep in her bed back in Pode. She was expected to be home in time for dinner every night and was rarely allowed to go out afterwards without an escort. If Sir Wilbur knew we were sleeping together he would be furious, even though we are engaged. Nobles do seem to have some stuffy ideas.


    It had been difficult for them to steal alone time together in Pode. A situation made even more complicated when Sir Wilbur had insisted Lizzy start helping out in the tavern. She had enjoyed it, of course, in spite of her initial protests. She loved playing her lute and treasured having a captive audience. The townsfolk didn''t mind having entertainment in the brief moments they could steal away from their responsibilities.


    Even K?ttur had enjoyed her working at the tavern since that meant Kegar spent less time with Lizzy and more time wandering the forest. Not that K?ttur disliked Lizzy, he just preferred enjoying the landscape rather than nice hips and lithe legs.


    It seemed Kegar was the only person in the entire town who disliked her working. She didn''t seem to have any spare time to bathe in the spring they had discovered, or romp in the glade under the moonlight with him after she started tending the bar. He wanted her to himself and resented having to share her with the rest of Pode. He had even complained to her about it, but she had just kissed his nose and he had forgotten what he had been so upset about.


    Kegar flushed remembering the first time he had seen the water running down her breasts and belly in perfect rivulets. Her caramel skin glistening as she came up out of the clear water. It had been a wonderful day until their horseplay had awoken a nest of spikens, who had chased them both for an unfortunately long distance. In their haste to escape, they had left their clothes on the bank of the pool. Lizzy had sat naked on a boulder, cleaning the cuts on her feet and legs, insisting that Kegar go back and get their clothes. He hadn''t wanted to, in fact, he had argued that they should run off together right then, but she had insisted and ultimately¡­ how could he deny her?


    He had to creep naked and alone through the Sk¨®gur Forest. K?ttur hadn''t been nearby since the cat disliked being around the two lovebirds when they were frisky. The feline had made multiple comments about the need for people to find a season and stick with it, rather than being in heat all year. Kegar disagreed.


    Since Kegar was a druid, he was able to use his nature sense to not startle anything that was a natural creature. Unfortunately, very little in Sk¨®gur was natural. The forest was largely full of abominations and cursed beasts. Terrible things that had no business in this world or any other.


    Kegar had kept his eyes and ears open, moving slowly through the underbrush. He had found a crocalyal nesting ground, he almost stumbled into it, but he had smelled the sweet smell the newly laid eggs give off. Kegar had marked the spot in his mind before giving the spot a wide birth. He wouldn''t come back unless he had at least three other people¡­ and his clothes and weapons.


    Ultimately, he had returned triumphant, but it had taken him such a long time that Lizzy had given him a kiss on the cheek, dressed quickly and run home. Sir Wilbur had been waiting for her at the door, upon seeing her wet hair, he had delivered a speech that could tan a crocalyal hide. She had been grounded for a month.


    Kegar brushed some hair from her face, "Definitely some benefits." He murmured crawling out from under the blanket.


    A frown spread across his face. There were some negatives to sleeping with a woman as well. Chief among them Lizzy''s insistence on sleeping in a tent. Kegar was used to sleeping under the stars. He missed the breeze tickling his beard while he slept.


    While he dressed he considered his options. As the leader he should present the levee before the king. As a druid he chafed under the responsibility of caring for humans and the need enter a city at all. Especially the capital of the Northern Kingdom. He slipped out of the tent, signaling for K?ttur to join him. Together they threaded the sleeping bodies to the campfire. Ellen, Katrina and Percival were making breakfast and seemed to be in an earnest debate.


    "That''s it!" he murmured. He was Sir Wilbur''s representative. I can go alone! Then he could avoid the group altogether for a few hours and have some peace. At least what peace could be found in a town. It was perfect! Or nearly.


    Ellen had directed a question at him. Kegar could see it on their faces, but he had missed it. He spooned some meal into his bowl and grunted in reply. It seemed to satisfy them as they turned back to their conversation. He returned to his introspection. K?ttur had settled himself at Kegar''s side, ignoring the rest of the group.


    Between one bite and the next, there was a clap of thunder from the clear sky. Clouds burst from the air and lightning charged between them. The dawn was darkened as the clouds boiled overhead. Katrina''s eyes had begun to glow white and electricity sparked across her skin.


    Her voice rang out like the thunder crashing across the sky,


    "By a knight''s command, one must go.


    By a lady''s birth another.


    By a man''s contract, he must go.


    By my word another.


    In more footsteps, distrust and unrest follow."


    The clouds above them rumbled a final time before rolling off. Katrina''s eyes cleared and she shook her head. "Well damn."


    Kegar eyed the retreating clouds with distrust, "Aye?"


    Katrina sighed and took a sip from her steaming drink, "I was not looking forward to going into the city." Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched before she forced herself to relax.


    "You don''t have to if you don''t wish it." Kegar grunted. I just came up with a plan and now the gods are interfering? He tried not to grind his teeth in frustration, I can''t wait until people stop interfering with my leadership. First Lizzy coming along, now this? What next? A complete revolt? How can I prove my leadership if I don''t get to make decisions?


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    Katrina rolled her eyes, "I''m hardly going to disobey my goddess after I prayed for wisdom last night. I''m independent not stupid."


    What do you need wisdom for? You aren''t the leader. Forced civility strained Kegar''s voice, "So what''s the rhyme mean?" If you are so wise.


    Ellen kept her voice neutral as she answered Kegar''s question, "Simple enough. Sir Wilbur, a knight gave Kegar the lead. Lizzy is the only lady here. Percival is sworn to her service. Katrina looked like her goddess tapped her shoulder pretty hard."


    Kegar''s knuckles went white around his bowl, he felt the amount of patience he was showing was legendary. No one else felt that way. "Why does Lizzy need to go?" He whined, "Why should anyone other than me?"


    Percival opened his mouth to reply, looked past Kegar and then closed it into a sly smile. "Lizzy, what are your thoughts?"


    Kegar whipped around. Lizzy was standing behind him, hands on her hips, eyes sharp enough she could cut the sun from the sky. Inwardly, he cursed his luck. Damn it. She had to come up behind me then? Why can''t she understand that Sir Wilbur made me the leader not her! There is a reason the lords of Capita won''t let a woman lead. She''s strong willed, but as a noble she should understand the wisdom in their decision.


    "Kegar," Her voice as frigid as the snow on the highest peak of White Mountain, "I would speak with you a moment."


    For a moment, everyone thought Kegar would refuse. It was as plain as the beard on his face that he thought about refusing her. But he didn''t. Slowly he set his empty bowl down. He stood stiffly, his hands clenching and unclenching, before he wiped them on his pants and stepped away from the fire. They walked over toward the brush at the edge of camp, still plainly visible, but they kept their voices low enough they couldn''t be heard.


    As Kegar and Lizzy walked away, K?ttur crept over to Katrina and began shoving her belt pouch with his huge nose, demanding a piece of the jerky he knew was there. Katrina chuckled and pulled out a piece. "Just one, you big greedy lout."


    K?ttur blinked slowly, accepting the piece before curling around Katrina. He knew if he stayed close by, she would continue to feed him. Katrina liked K?ttur and he liked her too. She always fed him. Kegar insisted he catch his own food, which he obviously could, but jerky was nice and he had trouble making it himself. He had tried once¡­ it was difficult. He had ended the process with a burned nose and no jerky.


    Percival glanced sideways at Katrina, "Can you still read lips, Katrina?"


    "Who said I ever could?" Katrina kept her eyes fixed firmly on her bowl of meal, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.


    Ellen raised an eyebrow, "How did I not know about this?"


    Percival gave a lopsided grin, "Katrina learned a long time ago so she could know what the adults were saying when they didn''t want us ''children'' to know." He gave her a playful shove, "Come on, tell me what she''s saying."


    Katrina sighed and looked up, absentmindedly slipping K?ttur another piece of jerky. Lizzy was talking and gesturing aggressively. Kegar had a sullen look on his face. "She''s saying that Percival is a nosy idiot and should mind his own business."


    K?ttur looked over at Kegar and sighed inwardly. His dwarf could be so possessive sometimes. In fact, all the time. He crept around to the other side of the fire, hoping Kegar hadn''t noticed that he had begged from Katrina. He lamented allowing Kegar to make him so¡­ domesticated.


    "Oh, come on. You don''t have to be a jerk." Percival said shoveling some meal in his mouth.


    Katrina shrugged, "It''s a private conversation. Anyway, I don''t want to know what those lovebirds have to say to each other in private." She pulled a piece of jerky out of her belt pouch and tossed it over the fire to K?ttur, who snatched it out of the air.


    Percival winked at the cat, "Nice catch, K?ttur."


    Ellen snickered, "With that look on Lizzy''s face, I doubt the exchange has anything to do with romance."


    The three by the fire finished their breakfast. Percival had given up trying to convince Katrina to read their lips and decided to give it a try himself. What he shared with them had them doubled over in laughter and gasping. Katrina left to pack up her gear before Kegar and Lizzy finished their rather long conversation. Shortly after Katrina left the fire, Percival went to do the same thing, after his "lip reading" started to peter out.


    When Kegar and Lizzy finally came back to the fire, Ellen had cleaned the dishes and the three early risers sat around the fire with steaming mugs. Shame covered Kegar''s face, settling over it with an angry grimace. Likewise cold fury was frozen on Lizzy''s. Clearly, nothing had been resolved in that "conversation".


    Ellen leaned over, whispering in Katrina''s ear, "I do not envy you on the trip."


    Katrina nodded, taking a cautious sip from her mug. Her eyes flicked from the dwarf''s face to the human''s. I wonder how this will change the group''s dynamic? I have a feeling all she''s done is made Kegar less willing to listen to women. She amended her thought as she evaluated the anger on Kegar''s face, Not just women then, anyone. He''s going to try to demand we follow him blindly, just like he did back home when we went on crocalyal hunts. Only now he has a measure of authority to demand it with. I wonder if Sir Wilbur understands what he''s done by putting Kegar in charge. She took another sip from her mug, considering. Of course Sir Wilbur does. That man is the most savvy man I''ve ever had the pleasure of studying under. So, it would have been worse for him to not be in power? Her eyes narrowed, What was he afraid would happen?


    Kegar''s footsteps were as sullen as a child''s. He grimaced as he spoke, his words dripping disgust, "We are leaving right now." He glared at Katrina and Percival, "If you are ready, come. If you aren''t, I''m not waiting."


    Percival rose with a graceful ease that set Kegar''s teeth on edge, and saluted him, "Ready and willing."


    Fury clenched Kegar''s jaw. K?ttur looked at the group of angry humanoids and dropped his head so he could sleep. It was hard, given Kegar''s anger buzzing in the back of his mind, but he had a lot of practice. In an uncomfortable silence, the four delegates of the levee stalked down the hill toward Capita.

 #10 Kings Can Be So Needy

    Author''s Note:


    Major updates as of 17/5/16. Hope people enjoy the additional content!


    *********************************************************************************


    Percival led them with confidence to the city gate. He had requested while they were walking away from camp, that if the guard asked them their business to let him do the talking. He deliberately left out that they would be targeted by the customs guards because Kegar was a dwarf, he had already told Kegar that everyone in Capita hated any non-human, there was no use beating a dead hortle. When they got to the city walls, the point however was moot. There were no guards at the gate. Peasants with their whole lives bundled onto carts and mules filed into the city. Few made eye contact. They were simply struggling to get into the packed city. Perhaps, if there had been guards to direct the mass it might have gone more smoothly.


    As it was, it was nearing midday by the time they were finally through the gate. Percival pointed out the "quest board" to Katrina. "Two harvests ago, that board was nearly empty. Not because quests weren''t going up either. Things just were getting done."


    "Why aren''t they getting done now? Have the people lost their will to work?" She looked around at the mob, they didn''t look lazy, they looked terrified.


    Percival shook his head, "No. Those that would be doing the work are dead or otherwise occupied."


    Katrina nodded. The streets were choked with people. Wide, frightened eyes dominated the hordes. The press of people was stifling.


    "Come!" Percival shouted, grabbing Lizzy''s arm, "This way."


    As they forced their way through the streets people turned stopped when they saw Kegar walking with them. While people outside the gates had been too fearful to bother Kegar, those inside felt just safe enough to vent their anger. Dwarves were still hated all around the Northern Kingdom for their role in the Dwarf Wars. The humans from the south-east particularly hated the dwarves, since it was their towns that had been sacked by the Lizards all those years ago. What Kegar and the group were unaware of was that all the people who were fleeing to Capita were from these southern towns, once again fleeing because their lands were under attack.


    People began jeering, spitting, and flinging filth. Since they were throwing things at a dwarf who stood barely four feet


    tall, most of it missed. Unfortunately, that only served to anger those that had missed their throws and antagonize those that had been hit.


    Percival breathed a sigh of relief when he ran straight into a man whose blue and red surcoat marked him as a member of the city guard. "Sir, I''ve been ordered-"


    "What''s this?" The guard said, looking past Percival at Kegar, "A dwarf in Capita?" The guard pushed past Percival to Kegar. His fist came down on Kegar, giving him a solid blow across the face, before Kegar had even realized there was a guard in front of them. "It''s because of your kind that we''re in this mess!" The guard snapped his fingers, "You and you, hold him."


    Percival tried again to stop the guard only to be swatted away. "Sir!"


    Kegar swore, pulling away from the guards. "I''m on my way to the king!"


    "Not ours you''re not!" The crowd hissed and roiled.


    Lizzy clutched her lute to her chest. She had never seen a mob like this. None of them had. The fear rose up in her like a tempest, wild and untamable. She felt a jolt, looking down, Katrina''s hand was on her arm. A faint blue glow around it. She was saying something but Lizzy couldn''t quite make it out.


    "Play?" Lizzy said, dazed.


    "Play!" Katrina shouted a fifth time.


    In Pode there had been a few times at the inn when people had gotten out of control, trying to start a bar fight or the like. Usually right after eating Stroz''s food for the first time. When such times occurred, Lizzy would play a special song that cut through the din and clamor and calmed the people involved. This was the song she played.


    The song did cut through the screams around them, but only just around them. As it filtered through to the crowd the sounds were absorbed. There was too much noise and too many people for the music to be heard clearly and it needed to be heard clearly because the crowd''s anger was too strong, their frustration too great, it soured the music.


    Katrina thumped her hand on Lizzy''s shoulder. It was hard to move it up there with the press of people pushing against them. Even though those closest to them weren''t raging, they also weren''t resisting the pushes of those behind them. Which meant that Katrina, Lizzy, Kegar and Percival were being crushed. A brighter blue glow surrounded Katrina''s hand on Lizzy''s shoulder. Lizzy''s music rose again, and this time, thunder rolled under the cords, crashing as percussion and elevating the music.


    A calming drizzle began to fall on the crowd. One by one, their anger was soothed. They realized that they needed to find a inn with room, or to convince someone to let them stay. They had obligations, the most pressing, to get out of the rain. It took the better part of an hour, but most of the crowd moved on to other places in the city.


    The guard and his two friends seemed stuck fast. Their anger, for whatever reason, was the hardest to disperse. Finally, the rage fell from the guards''. The one holding Kegar finally let go, but they did not offer an apology for their actions.


    Percival had to shout over a clap of thunder, "Can you please take us to the king? We''re the levee from Pode. He requested our presence."


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    The guard turned away from Kegar, disgust still spread across his face, and looked squarely at Percival, "Why didn''t you say so? This way." He started walking toward the center of the city.


    The guard didn''t bother to see if they were following. In fact, he gave the distinct impression that he would be happier if he reached his destination and found that they had gotten lost on the way. He walked quickly and while he didn''t try to lose them, exactly, he cut around corners without giving any indication that he had been thinking about turning.


    It was maddeningly frustrating. Especially for Kegar who had much shorter legs than the rest of them. Kegar huffed as he trotted behind his long legged, human compatriots. He could, and did, pretend that the storm had been natural. His vision had been so choked by humans that he hadn''t seen Katrina put her glowing hand on Lizzy''s shoulder. So he denied to himself that he needed her help to get an audience with the king. But he couldn''t deny the necessity of Percival and Lizzy now. It infuriated him. I shouldn''t need their help! That guard should have taken me seriously from the start!


    Of course, in a perfect world, the guard shouldn''t have been a bigot. If the world was perfect then Kegar wouldn''t have been conscripted, the city wouldn''t be choked with refugees, the dwarves wouldn''t have betrayed their allies, there never would have been a Dwarf War, and that guard''s friends wouldn''t all be dead from fighting a losing battle against the orcs and the swamp lizards. The world wasn''t perfect and so the humans of the Northern Kingdom hated all the races, but dwarves in particular.


    Kegar wasn''t interested in the political climate of the Northern Kingdom. He wasn''t interested in humanity at all, with the exception of Lizzy, of course. Unfortunately, because of the callous way he considered people, or didn''t consider them, Kegar hadn''t listened to Percival''s comments about Capita at all. He had paid just enough attention to grunt at what he thought were the right times. So he honestly couldn''t begin to fathom why the people disliked him so much.


    He was so out of touch, he wouldn''t know to tell them that his family wasn''t part of the dwarves that had betrayed the Northern Kingdom. He didn''t know to tell the guard that his family were forest dwarves who lived near Pode. Not that the guard would have believed him, as filled with hate and anger as he was. Or, if he had, he would have spat on him for being from Pode, which was well known to be a blight on the kingdom.


    The castle sat on a hill in the center of Capita. The nearest buildings, all grand mansions, were at least three spear lengths away from the moat. The moat was too wide for even a horse to jump, but the draw bridge was down and after the guard had a brief discussion with the guards stationed there, they were able to cross.


    As they walked under the wall, Percival looked up and saw the murder holes. If Capita was ever invaded, the defenders could pour molten lead on the heads of the invaders. Percival shivered. It would be a nasty way to go.


    The way to the king was choked with supplicants, mostly ratty looking people. They looked like displaced refugees. Many of them clutched small sacks, stuffed with their worldly treasures. A bored, fat official sat behind a desk at the end of the hall. A small stack of papers went untouched on his desk. Without looking up from the gold pendant he was fondling, he spoke to the peasant standing in front of him with a nasally voice that trailed after them as the guard led them past. "You can''t see the king. He is a busy man. He''ll see you when he gets around to the peasantry."


    The guard didn''t pause as he passed the petitioners. They were farther beneath his notice than they were beneath the officials. He led them down stone hallways with great tapestries lining the walls. Kegar and Katrina were too much the country bumpkin to notice how threadbare the tapestries were or to notice where things were missing.


    Percival and Lady Elizabeth could tell the difference though. They spotted the quality, how the drapery that remained had moth holes or had been patched. They passed multiple places where it was evident that statues or sculptures had been recently removed. The king is trying to raise money by selling ancestral artifacts. After all, if he is selling these¡­ other things must be being sold as well.


    A few twists and turns through the castle and he finally passed them off to a guard in the red and gold of the palace. This guard, who didn''t bother to give his name, led them straight to King Tiranious. The audience chamber was easily large enough to hold everyone from Pode many times over, but as impressive as its size was, it lacked a sense of grandness; the glint and glamour that they had expected from the king of their country. The chamber was too large to be so empty of decoration.


    The king was old and distracted. His face sagged as stress and dread pulled down his features. Fear oozed from his pores, filling the large chamber with the stink of unwashed bodies. The perfumes that both he and his chancellor had been doused with couldn''t cover the sour panic that infiltrated the conscripts'' noses. His chancellor sat at a desk by the throne. It was clearly new to the room. The desk was so filled with papers, they could only see the top of the chancellor''s very tall hat.


    The king''s nervous eyes flicked over the group, his eyes resting on Lizzy, "You''re the ones from Pode?"


    They nodded.


    He sighed, "Excellent. I need you to slay a dargon."

 #11 Disrespect and Battle Orders

    Author''s Note:


    Additional content! Edited as of 17/5/16


    *******************************************************************************


    King Tiranious smiled briefly, "A poor joke I see." His smile faded and his eyes drifted off toward one of the large stained glass windows, which should have had curtains. The window he seemed to be looking at depicted a knight fighting a troll it had set on fire.


    The chancellor cleared his throat, his tall hat bobbing with effort, "My king, these are Sir Wilbur''s delegation."


    The king''s eyes lit up and a smile spilled across his face as he turned his face back toward the group. "Sir Wilbur? That would make one of you ladies his granddaughter."


    Lizzy opened her mouth to replay, but Kegar beat her to it, "Yes, my king, this is Lady Elizabeth and I am her fianc¨¦ Kegar of the Frozenpine. Representative of Sir Wilbur."


    "Fianc¨¦?" The king''s brow furrowed looking at Kegar, "I knew Sir Wilbur was progressive, but a dwarf? Has it been so long that he forgot the Dwarf Wars or his son''s death?"


    Kegar shook his head, "My folk are woodland people. We had nothing to do with the Dwarf Wars."


    The king eyed him suspiciously for a moment before murmuring too quietly for the youths to hear, "Well, there is still time for him to die before they marry... or her to fall for someone else." The King turned his eyes to Lizzy, "Well, my dear, my friend had told me of your interest in music. I was going to send this as a gift, but I suppose I can give you it now as an early wedding present." He gestured and a guard stepped forward. They consulted for a moment and then the guard left. "It will be brought for you before you leave."


    Lizzy''s thank you was drowned out by the bellowing thanks of Kegar.


    The king frowned. He was finding he didn''t care for Kegar. His distaste was shifting from Kegar''s dwarven heritage to his personality.


    Percival stepped forward, his movement too unexpected for Kegar to protest. "King Tiranious, Sir Wilbur requested that I deliver a letter to you." He pulled a sealed scroll from a pouch that clearly shouldn''t have fit the scroll.


    The king motioned and a guard took the scroll from Percival and gave it to the king. Tiranious read the letter from Sir Wilbur, his brow furrowing more and more as his eyes scanned the letter.


    Kegar leaned over to Percival and whispered, "What''s in the letter?"


    Percival hadn''t read the letter, but Sir Wilbur had told him the contents. He''d said it was in case the letter was lost, but Percival had a feeling it was because Sir Wilbur wanted someone in the group to know. There is no way I''m telling you, Kegar. He shrugged.


    "Why did he give you the letter instead of me?" Even though he was trying to stay quiet, his voice was growing louder with his impatience.


    The king looked up from his letter, then glanced back down. He handed the letter to his chancellor. "It is always good to hear from my old friend. Thank you for delivering this letter."


    The chancellor handed the king a scroll, which the king read quietly. "Ah, yes." His eyes rose back to the group, "You may or may not know, but the kingdom has been plagued by orcs to the south for generations. Now, normally this is not a problem. The orcs are always so busy killing each other that while the kingdom loses a few head of cattle the amount of loses are minimal. There was even a stipend set aside to assist farmers who took losses. The raids were neither dangerous nor often enough to justify the expense of a military campaign against the orcs."


    The king sighed wearily, as his shoulders sagged, "All that changed this year." The silence stretched out as the king stared out one of the stained glass windows depicting a knight cleaving the head of a large orc.


    Katrina spoke up bringing the king back to the present, "Why?"


    The girl is from Pode, she probably doesn''t know how to address a king. The king thought ignoring the lack of appropriate address. He continued, "The orcs have been united behind a single chieftain. Now that they are no longer fighting each other, they have begun sacking the southern and western towns in earnest. I would like you to find and assassinate the orc chieftain, if he is dead the rest will fall back to their usual chaos."


    The group nodded. No one liked the savage orcs. Not that anyone from Pode had a real reason to dislike them, there were no orcs near Pode, but Percival had a run in or two with them traveling with his father and had regaled the youths of Pode with his exaggerated stories of heroism.


    Katrina asked, "Where is your army?"


    The king''s eyes fell again, "There are lizard men and frog people pouring out of the eastern swamp. I must keep the army on that boarder, simply to stop us from being overrun."


    Lady Elizabeth stepped forward, "My lord king," Kegar grabbed her arm and attempted to pull her back, but she shifted out of his grip and took another step forward, "I know that times are dire. The kingdom is beset on all sides it seems, but I bring news of another peril."


    The king nodded for her to continue. There seemed to be no end to his perils.


    "There is a bone spire that is the spawning grounds of undead. Some of our group slew all inside and defeated the corruption, but when the sun cleric who was with them tried to bless the ground and remove the desolation from the soil but he could not. Without a more highly trained cleric the spire will rise again and bring hordes of undead on your lands."


    The king smiled, looked up at his guards and waved them out of the room. Once all the guards were gone he replied to Lizzy, "This is excellent news!"


    "What?" Lizzy was caught completely off guard.


    The king waved his hand in a dismissive manner, "Clearly this is terrible. No one wants the undead running about. However, this may be just what I need." He lowered his voice, "There is a group of nobles seeking to rebel. I know they have bribed many of my officials and I suspect some of my own personal guard. I believe they are in the pay of the swamp dargon. That creature, I believe, is instigating all of this. I have no way to prove it, of course, but this could be just what I need to bring them to heel and deal with some of the unrest in the city." He was quiet for a time. It was evident from his face the wheels were turning, "Where is this spire?"


    Kegar answered, "North of Pode."


    The hope froze and then shattered from the king''s countenance. "I''m afraid I cannot help you."


    Katrina spoke up, sparks began racing across her skin, "You mean to say that we''ll be risking our lives for you and yours but our taxes haven''t bought our families a second thought?"


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    A weary sigh blew out from the king. "I wish I could help, I do. But the army has its hands full with the swamp. If it were closer I could order the nobles to tend to it and public support would be such they would dare not refuse. However, the people of Capita cannot see far enough ahead to care about Pode. Without public support the nobles will refuse and if they realize they can refuse the king''s order then they will not bother to pay the throne even lip service. They will rebel and the kingdom will fall." Silence fell. Hopelessness spread out from the king, smothering Katrina''s anger.


    The chancellor cleared his throat and stood up. He was a shriveled, pale man who appeared to be even older than Sir Wilbur. "Your highness if I may propose a solution?"


    The king nodded.


    The chancellor continued, "If you kill the orc chieftain and scatter the orcs in a timely manner then we may be able to gather the support we need. Sending the nobles to aid the Heroes of Pode is more likely to happen then just sending the nobles to Pode."


    The king nodded, "That could very well work."


    Kegar nodded, "Very well. We shall hasten to slay the orc chieftain."


    The king steepled his fingers. His eyes resting heavily on Lizzy. "Lady Elizabeth, if this mission were not of the utmost importance, I would request you dine with me tonight. Unfortunately, it is and so I must ask that you and your companions leave post haste. I hope that you can return soon. I would love to speak with you, regarding a few important matters."


    As Lizzy was about to reply, Kegar bowed and spoke, "We would be honored to accept your invitation."


    Lizzy blanched, glancing from Kegar to the king, whose eyes had narrowed dangerously, "I would be honored your majesty."


    The king nodded to Lizzy before turning his ire on Kegar. Kegar, impressed with how he had cleverly insinuated himself into attending the dinner, did not see the anger in the king''s face, though it was evident to everyone else in the room. The king, however, decided not to respond. I need the fool to carry out the mission and Sir Wilbur is right, the nobles wouldn''t allow Lady Elizabeth to lead the levee¡­ but after these Heroes of Pode return victorious, they may say that it was not the dwarf that led them, but instead Elizabeth, the daughter of the famous Sir Wilbur. Of course, they will try to court her and convince her to side against me¡­


    The chancellor called for the guards to escort the group to the city gates. One of the king''s personal guards, given the amount of gold on his shoulder he was fairly high ranking, brought with him a harp. The harp looked like it had been grown into the shape rather than carved. The wood had been polished so that it shone like gold in the light.


    The guard smiled at Lizzy, "This would be-" He glared at Kegar when he reached for the harp, "for you Lady Elizabeth. It was grown from honeywood and its tones reflect that sweetness."


    Lizzy smiled gratefully at the guard. "Please, thank the king again for me. I had no idea of the beauty I would receive."


    The guard chuckled. "He didn''t either, I assure you, but I will convey your gratitude. I am something of an amateur musician myself so the king dispatched me to pick it out. You see this? The wood comes from..."


    The guard - "please call me Frank" - and Lizzy began a vigorous discussion of woods, the benefits of one over another and their the effects on sound, tone and the like. Kegar was furious. As a druid, I have a great deal to add about wood! I have so much I could add, they wouldn''t even understand the half of it! But the guard prevented him from adding more than a few comments.


    Katrina and Percival walked a bit behind. Percival was, even in Capita, keeping a wary eye out for danger to Lizzy. Currently he was watching Kegar with trepidation as Kegar frantically tried to take control of the conversation. Frank was impressively good at defusing Kegar''s comments without being rude, though with each of Kegar''s attempts to intrude he was making it more and more obvious how self-centered he was.


    "I got to say, I wonder."


    "Wonder what?" Percival didn¡¯t know exactly what rank "Frank" was, but that itself told him how high a rank the young man was. He has to be a noble. The only way someone only a few years older than us could be a high ranking officer in the king''s personal guard is if he is a noble. His eyes flicked to the gold on the guard''s shoulder again, He must be a noble and very, very dangerous. All the other guards the king had some grey in their beard, but not this one.


    "What Sir Wilbur was thinking with those two." Katrina nodded in Kegar and Lizzy''s direction, "She is going to lose Pode to him."


    Percival studied Frank, who was smiling freely, with a practiced eye for a moment, "I think Sir Wilbur was playing a long game. He knows better than to tell his granddaughter she can''t have something." He was quiet for a few paces, "I think he was hoping desperately to convince Lizzy to stay home... but she didn''t so she got a body guard."


    They reached the city gates. Frank wrapped up his conversation with Lizzy, bowing over her hand before returning to the castle with his men. Kegar looked like he had been pole axed. Percival smiled into his glove, he always loved it when someone''s tail got pulled. He was the only one to notice the note the guardsman had slipped into her hand.


    Kegar began stomping off toward camp. "When we get back to camp I''m burning that harp!"


    Surprise whipped through them. "What? You can''t! It was a gift from the king!"


    "No it wasn''t! It was a gift from" his voice dripped with disdain, "Frank."


    Percival stepped forward, placing himself between Kegar and Lizzy, "Now Kegar, I can''t let you do that."


    For a moment Kegar''s eyes widened in shock. "What?" His eyes quickly narrowed suspiciously, "I am the leader of this group and you must obey me on Sir Wilbur''s order!"


    Lizzy stared wide eyed at Kegar. She had never seen this side of Kegar before. It was frightening.


    Percival shook his head, "No. I was hired directly by Sir Wilbur to look after Lizzy and her possessions. I am not beholden to your authority."


    Kegar turned to Lizzy, "This matter isn''t settled." Then he stomped off.


    Lizzy watched him go. "Percy? I think I don''t want to sleep in that tent with Kegar tonight."

 #12 Fautes Journey Into Capita

    Author''s Note:


    This chapter has been updated as of 19/5/16. Thanks for reading!


    *******************************************************************************


    Ellen finished telling the late risers where Katrina, Percival, Kegar and Lizzy had gone. With Kegar gone, K?ttur had crept around the fire to curl up at Ellen''s feet. The large feline liked it when she scratched his brow ridge. Kegar never bothered to scratch him.


    Largely, the group listened before setting about their morning rituals. However, not everyone was more interested in breakfast and baths. One person in particular was furious that she had not been included in the delegation.


    "I can''t believe you guys are falling for that!" Faute spat, looking at the members of the group who didn''t go into Capita.


    Ellen shrugged, "It''s well known that the people of Capita hate the other races. They have reasons for some of it, like their animosity toward dwarves, but mostly I think they are just hateful."


    "According to Percival!" Faute stomped her delicate foot and crossed her arms. "He''s probably lying!"


    Strozazand tossed a small book at Faute. She missed the catch because her nose was too high up in the air for her to see the book coming her way. It struck her chest and fell to the ground. "Remember when we told him that no one could be so stupid to just hate everyone? Then he brought this back?" The book in question detailed the horrors of non-human races - including what would happen to you if you engaged in intercourse with them. It went into extravagant detail about what kind of diseases a man could catch if he interbred and even outlined how allowing your daughter to fall into bed could result in all your crops being cursed.


    Mary picked it up from where it had fallen to the ground, "I didn''t realize you had held onto this filth so long." She flipped through a few pages before coming across a particularly vivid picture. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. "By the gods!" She mouthed.


    Strozazand shrugged mumbling, "It pays to be informed." As a dargon he tried to remember everything he came across, but some things, especially propaganda like that tended to be hard for him to retain. He kept the booklet so he would remember what was in it.


    Shandra who had been ignoring the asinine conversation in favor of breakfast, which was a grain meal, although, by this time, it was mostly cooled, wandered over to look at the book over Mary''s shoulder, "I remember that book. Sir Wilbur ordered them to all be burned because of how disgusting it was." She glanced at Stroz, "They had over one hundred and fifty words or phrases for elf that meant whore. I must say, I hadn''t expected them to be so articulate."


    Broden was the only one among the group who had never read the book, although he had looked at the pictures. He had never bothered to learn to read and found the whole discussion to be a waste of time. I''d rather be bathing than talking to Faute about elf habits. He served another helping of the congealing meal. Good. He smiled at his delicious food, his whole face beaming at it. He was getting used to flavorful, cooked food.


    The small tips of Faute''s ears turned red. "Don''t you see? That was his ploy! He wants you to think of him as our emissary so he can cheat us blind!" Blank faces turned back to their breakfasts. "Fine! I''ll go by myself!"


    Finos gave a gentle, respectful tug on her robe. It was clear he had been trying to get her attention for a while. "Faute, I snuck down there last night and they had some pretty graphic posters of what they wanted to do to elves. I don''t think that booklet was lying. In fact, I think it may have been understated."


    Or at least, he tried to say that. But when she saw who it was, tugging on her robe, she shrieked and slapped him. "Don''t touch me you filthy half man!"


    Even with her calling him a half man - anyone else would have found a knife in their ribs for that - he still tried to warn her.


    The irony of Faute''s hate for Finos wasn''t lost on anyone - even Broden. Faute railed against how stupid humans were for hating elves, but she was a complete bigot. More than a few of them hoped she found some elves to run off with. Chanceux was always so kind, how did she end up so cruel? Thoughts arose around the fire, things they had thought for years and years but could never say in such a small town. Why did she insist on telling us he wasn''t her real father? Everyone knew he was, but he let her tell lies about him.


    She kicked at him, "Don''t touch me!"


    "Come on now, he was just trying to get you to listen to him!" Ellen shook her head in disgust, "No need to get violent."


    Finos looked up at Ellen and smiled briefly in thanks.


    Faute sniffed in disdain, "Can you resist those obscene thoughts for even a moment, Finos?" Faute needed to believe that Finos was a sex crazed beast. She had decided that was his entirety years ago. Her disdain came from that assumption, an assumption that she would never revisit. If it turned out that she was wrong, that his every respectful gesture wasn''t a terrible sexual plot then she was wrong for the constant abuse she hurled at him. Only someone cruel or evil would do the things she was doing... to someone innocent. But he is a beast, so I''m only treating him how he deserves.


    Faute stomped off. She made her own way to Capita. She would show them. The fools. Needless to say, Faute didn''t believe Katrina''s prophesy. Katrina is always manipulating people so she can be in charge! She is a cowardly bully! But I see through it, I see her for the slut she really is. Always stringing along Cole and flirting with Finos!  With those thoughts firmly embedded in her head, she reasoned that there was no reason she shouldn''t go to Capita and see it''s wonders. Katrina''s just trying to keep something nice from me!


    Faute pushed her hair away from her ears. She was proud of her points. Her father always  told her to hide them outside Pode, but the only thing she was ashamed of was how her friends were uncultured swine. As she approached Capita, the size of the crowd was overwhelming. There were more people waiting to get into Capita then there were in all of Pode. It was staggering. But she was an elf and she wouldn''t be cowed by these humans. She pushed her way forward, through the crowd using a small magic to force people in front of her out of her way. As she shoved them aside people''s heads started turning, watching her.


    A threat triggered her instinctive defensive reaction, she whipped around and fired off a beam of gold and silver light. The tomato burst, some of the juices being vaporized, but a little bit splattered Faute''s hair.


    She used an enchantment to make her voice boom. "How dare you worthless humans assault me? Show yourself so that I can destroy you!"


    The crowd was silent for a collective moment before a tidal wave of produce began to pelt her. She was able to destroy some of them with her defensive magic. Some of it splattered on the field of force that she had been using to push through the people, but there was so much she couldn''t stop it all. She fled deeper into the city, searching for a tavern to duck into.


    She ran past graphic pictures of what should be done to the other races, but she didn''t notice them. She didn''t notice that the first inn she saw, The Talking Horse also had one of these posters on it. She slipped into it. It was packed. Something that would come as no surprise since the people were fleeing the outlying towns. But Faute didn''t know that. She just thought Capita was always this packed. It was the first city she had ever seen. She elbowed her way to the bar. She felt filthy for having to rub against so many humans to get here.


    "How can I help you miss?" The bartender''s deep voice brought her back to reality.


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    Faute sniffed, lifting her chin in distain for her surroundings, "A hot bath if you please."


    The bartender shook his head, "No can do. All my rooms are full." He paused eyeing her suspiciously, "Where are you


    from? You don''t sound like you are from the inner towns."


    With one had she straightened her robe, trying to look regal, "Most recently from Pode." Always actually.


    "Pode?" he laughed, "Get out of here, I have paying customers to deal with."


    Faute was shocked, "But I have money!"


    He laughed again, heartily. This time some of the patrons joined in, "Your wooden coins aren''t worth anything here."


    "Wooden?" She was stunned, "I have coppers like anyone else."


    The bartender laughed and walked away.


    Faute made her way to the fireplace. It was the only clear place in the tavern. If I can''t get clean I can at least get dry. A single upholstered chair was by the fire with a rug under it. Gold threads danced across the fabric, making the chair sparkle in the flickering firelight. No one stood on the rug, also woven with gold and silver, even though the rest of the tavern was packed to the gills. An elderly man, dressed in clothes finer than any she had ever seen, sat in the chair enjoying a hearty pint of ale. The cost of his clothes could have purchased Sir Wilbur''s keep multiple times.


    The knight in the chair looked up at the filthy peasant woman who had come to his fire. Normally, he wouldn''t let someone set foot on his carpet, let alone someone so dirty. But he saw from where her hair was plastered to her skull that she was an elf, a very dangerous thing to be, and he was in need of something being done. Perhaps he could use her? If not, there was always time to throw her to the common folk. "Girl. You there, the filthy peasant."


    Someone shoved Faute toward him. "Yes..." How dare anyone speak to me that way! But she saw the ring on his finger marking him a knight so she didn''t retaliate, "sir?"


    The knight cocked his head when she began speaking, "I recognize that accent. Tell me, do you by chance know Sir Wilbur?"


    "Yes." She nodded, "He is the lord over Pode."


    "Ah, Pode." The knight was quiet for a moment before gesturing to a stool by the fire. It hadn''t been there before, but Faute wasn''t observant enough to have noticed that. "I believe the king is meeting with a delegation from Pode. Even Sir Wilbur''s granddaughter is part of it. Were you not important enough to be included in the delegation?"


    Faute sat on the offered stool, "Of course I am important! They sent me in to see what could be seen. Talk to the people that sort of thing. All very important." She waved her hand dismissively. Her lie struggled to sound convincing to even to her.


    The knight smiled thinly. "That was wise of them, seeing how useful and intelligent you are." He looked away for a moment, touching his ear, "My sources tell me that the king is requesting your friends kill the orc chieftain. I happen to know something he won''t bother to tell your friends. Would you like to know what that information is?"


    Faute nodded slowly. I''m not certain what he would know that is useful since he couldn''t see through my lie... maybe it wasn''t as bad as I thought it was?


    "The orc chieftain has trolls working for him. At least two. I know this because they stole my horse, Paint." The knight''s eyes narrowed, "If you are able to find and return him in good health I will reward you handsomely."


    Faute straightened her spine, "How will I know him?"


    The knight chuckled, "This inn is named for him. Believe me, if you find him. You''ll know he is the one."


    I hate riddles. She considered the name of the inn for a moment, This horse Paint can''t possibly talk! That''s impossible. I suppose I''ll have to figure it out later. "Of course."


    The knight slipped a ring off his finger. He held it up to his lips, breathing on it gently before shining it for a moment on his sleeve. It wasn''t his signet ring, just a simple gold band with a green stone in it. "Please, take this ring as my thanks for looking for Paint. Even if you aren''t able to find him, or save him, you may keep it. Should you run into the trolls it will help you."


    "Thank you," She accepted the ring without hesitation, she was about to slip it on her finger when a suspicious thought caught up to her "but what is it for?"


    "Three times a day it can shoot a ball of acid. I wish I had it when the trolls took Paint." He sighed, "But you need it more than I do."


    "Thank you." She said slipping the ring on her finger. Of course, he wants me to do what no one else can. It only makes sense for him to help me prepare.


    He snapped his fingers and four guards came toward them from the crowd. "Now, it appears to me, unless my eyes deceive me that you have elf ears. Something that usually only occurs when there is also elf blood."


    Faute tried to toss back her hair so she could show off her ears, but her hair was so matted she just looked more foolish. "Of course!"


    "Capita tends to frown on elf blood, really any non-human blood. As I believe you may know by now." The guards grabbed her arms and lifted her from the stool, "I''ll have my guards escort you out of the city so you aren''t hurt."


    "I''m not really-" But he cut her off.


    "No, my dear, I insist. I don''t want you to be harmed after we made our bargain." Nor do I want your foul elf stink stinking up my air any longer. His false smile couldn''t be kept up any longer. Disdain closed his face once more. As soon as she had been marched off, a guard stepped forth and threw the stool on the fire. The item could no longer be used after she had fouled it with her tainted blood.


    Not long after Faute and the guards had left, some peasant new to the area stepped on the carpet looking to warm himself by the fire. The man''s bare feet were dusty from the long days on the road. His clothes little more than rags; that seemed held together by will rather than skill or strength of needle.


    Sir Reginald snapped his fingers and two guards emerged from the crowd, took the peasant outside and beat him nearly to death. Once they finished, they tossed him into the refuse pile, where, unless he was treated his wounds would become infected. His long, agonizing death would serve as a warning to the rest of the wretches. No one stepped on Sir Reginald''s rug without his permission. The elf would serve her purpose and then she too would be punished for her insolence.


    He held up his mug and it was immediately refilled by a serving wench. Sir Reginald enjoyed the local ale while he was magically listening in through the trinkets he had passed out to important positions. Particularly, the insignia he had made for and gifted to the king''s royal guard. A particular stroke of genius. He thought to himself.


    He knew his benefactor, he refused to think of her as his mistress, would be pleased with how things were moving forward. Oh, I am, my conniving little minion. Her presence poured into his mind like thick black smoke, sifting through his thoughts before moving on. He clutched his mug with white knuckles. It would be terrible if she knew all of his plans. She wouldn''t take his treachery well.


    Of course, what he didn''t realize was how much she already knew. He had forgotten that he had already proven himself to be a traitor to his king. She knew he would try to backstab her and she had taken precautions of her own.

 #13 On the Road Again

    Author''s Note:


    Kyth was kind enough to remind me that we read adventure stories not just to find out what happens, but to see our heroes be bad-ass while they happen to do it. With this in mind, I''ve taken more time with the fight scene in this chapter. I''ll be going over previous chapters to bump up the action and description. (Not today, but later) I''ll let people know which chapters I''ve worked on after I''ve worked on them.


    Also, in the course of writing the fine details of Dargon, I''ve realized that Kegar should be more of an ass then he is in the beginning. Presently, he kind of launches himself into a land of douchiness, so that''s another thing I''ll be working on.


    *********************************************************************************************************


    Kegar cursed as he stomped toward the camp. He couldn''t believe Percival had stopped him. Who did Percival think he was anyway? Just a merchant''s son, always trying to steal and grift. Why was Percival even here? This wasn''t his country, was he trying to move in on Lizzy? Maybe he was looking to settle down in Lizzy''s castle?


    Kegar booted a stone off the path, sending a shower of dirt and stones down the hillside. Clearly, something would need to be done about Percival''s sticky fingers. "Maybe I should have Cat eat him." Kegar chuckled. It would be totally justified, but he knew no one else would see it that way. Eventually that wouldn''t matter, but until his control solidified he needed to keep them compliant. They needed to understand that his authority was absolute. He was the leader and they were the followers.


    What of Lizzy? She was probably mad at him. Of course, he was within his rights to destroy the gift, but perhaps she would be upset about losing it? After all, it was a finely crafted piece. Maybe he had been too hasty? Hmm, perhaps if he apologized, maybe blamed it on his being hasty, she would realize it was all a misunderstanding and she would stop being angry with him.


    "What if I could make them turn on Percival? He is the problem, the one making them question me. Everyone needs to see that this mess is his fault." Kegar stroked the bud of a magnolia tree, the bud blossomed just to please him. Kegar smiled. "They''ll know who''s the wrong one soon enough." Kegar left the magnolia and moved further into the forest. The magnolia had been asleep until Kegar woke it up. When winter closed in on the hills, the tree would die from frost burn because it was awake when it should have been asleep.


    Kegar walked in the woods for a few hours absorbing the peace. The grass twirled around his toes, the branches leaned into him brushing his face gently. He felt his confidence return as he coaxed flowers to grow. Nature obeyed him, why couldn''t everyone else?


    When he returned to camp, his blood seemed to boil for a moment. Lizzy had packed up the tent and put it away completely. Her things were on the edge of camp furthest from his. She was sitting with Percival, Katrina, Ellen and the others playing her new harp. Kegar stopped himself from doing anything drastic. The goal was to discredit Percival and convince Lizzy she should be with him. Stick with the plan. They won''t respect your authority if Percival is allowed to challenge you.  He couldn''t do that if Lizzy was angry with him.


    Lizzy?" He said, coming up behind them, trying to sound contrite, "I believe I was hasty and perhaps I over reacted. A bit. I felt disrespected by the king and the guards" his eyes flicked to Percival "I shouldn''t have taken that out on you."


    His words were arrogant and hollow but to Lizzy who wanted him to be what she thought he was and not what he was, they were enough. "Oh, Kegar!" She stood up and hugged him. "I''m sure no one meant to make you feel that way. But you must understand, customs are different in the city, then back in the wilderness of Pode."


    Kegar nodded. His face was twisted in a grimace, but since he had stepped into a hug with Lizzy, she couldn''t see. Everyone else around the fire could. "So, should I put the tent back up?"


    "Join us for supper." Lizzy patted the log she was sitting on, "I think I''d like to keep things as they are for the moment. It''s getting late. Maybe we''ll put it up another night."


    Percival was so shocked his chin dropped. As a merchant''s son he had heard a number of terrible apologies, but that was absurd. It wasn''t an apology so much as Kegar admitted that everyone else was wrong and it was a shame Kegar was blamed for it.


    Katrina caught Percival''s eye and shook her head. It was Lizzy''s life and her decision. "Well, Kegar, what are your thoughts? Where should we go?" Katrina pointed to a rudimentary map drawn in the dirt.


    Kegar looked at it for a moment before tapping the crossroad to the south. "This is where the orcs will be hitting supply wagons. Maybe we can track them to their main base."


    The rest of the group nodded. It was a reasonable course of action. That was an area that had been hit by the orcs a number of times.


    "We need to wrap this up quickly so the king can send help to Pode. Based on where the orcs have attacked previously, I think they''ll be located in this area." Katrina pointed to a place south of the crossroads, "Given that the chieftain has been amassing orcs, he should be easy to find. There were a number of orc tribes. If they have gathered together, we are looking for a huge campsite."


    Kegar used his foot to wipe out the drawing. "The southern plains are long and empty. It could take months of wandering to find them if we look without direction. No, we''ll go with my plan."


    Katrina opened her mouth to protest, but Cole cut her off, "Now dear, Sir Wilbur put Kegar in charge for a reason."


    Katrina stopped listening to the derogatory filth coming from Cole, "Fine. But I want to go on the record contesting this decision."


    Broden shrugged and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to go.


    Shandra looked over at the mute dwarf and smiled, "Broden," she pointed to everyone''s bedrolls, "we are staying the night here since it took the group so long to get back."


    Broden shrugged, curled up on the ground and fell asleep. It took no time at all for the watch to be decided. Ellen took first watch, Mary second, Katrina third, and Stroz took fourth watch. They had settled into a nice routine. Shandra needed the entire nights rest to regain her spells for the next day, so they left her out of the watches. Kegar insisted that as the leader, he didn''t have to be bothered with keeping watch. Sometimes Cat would stay awake with someone, but no one wanted to try to force the giant cat. They just welcomed the company when it came.


    Since Broden refused to talk, they left him out of the watch on principle. It would make it difficult for others to respond if something happened and Broden forgot to inform everyone. Faute was too unreliable to ask to keep watch. Finos sometimes took a turn, Percival too, but the watchers generally insisted he sleep the whole time. Often he would stay up for a time with the first watch or rise early with the last watch. It was nice.


    No one asked the noble''s daughter to keep watch and she never thought to offer.


    It was late into second watch when Faute wandered into camp. Mary sprang up from where she had been sitting keeping watch. Her martial arts style allowed her to sleep while still being alert enough for watch. It was handy, but most of the group didn''t trust someone who was asleep to keep watch. Or they wouldn''t if they were awake. What they didn''t know didn''t bother them.


    "Who''s that?" Mary paused, "Faute? What are you doing out there?"


    Faute choked back a sob and stomped into camp, "You didn''t remember I was gone? You could have left me!" Mud caked her shins from where she had left the path and tried to make a short cut. Her dress was torn from where it had caught on branches. She looked awful.


    Mary went to Faute, "I thought you had come back already! I''m sorry. Whoa you look like hell."


    A tear streaked down Faute''s cheek, "I got lost on my way back." Her voice rose, "Why didn''t you send anyone to look for me?"


    I''m so glad my skin is dark. Mary thought blushing. "I''m sorry Faute, I honestly didn''t realize you were still out there. If I had realized, of course, we would have sent someone to look for you!" Mary brushed some dirt out of Faute''s hair. As she plucked a twig she thought, Why is it our responsibility to keep track of her when she goes off? We told her not to.


    It took Mary a while to calm Faute down enough for her to take a bath in the nearby stream and go to bed. Faute had finally climbed into her bedroll when it was time for Katrina to be awakened for third watch. The group slept through the night waking refreshed, except Faute who woke cranky, before first light.


    Traveling on the southern road instead of traveling cross country or on a dirt track sped their progress. It wasn''t long before the road entered a wooded area, but the road was clear, the trees were tall and it was a pleasant journey. Ellen kept her eyes peeled and asked the others to do the same. As she had noted when they entered the forest, "This is the perfect place for an ambush."


    On the fifth day Ellen stopped them, "Look." She pointed to wagon ruts leaving the road. She walked to the ruts, bent down and picked something up. "Arrow head."


    Katrina glanced around the group. They were largely ignoring Ellen. "Looks like the place." She said trying to clue the group in to what was going on.


    Faute sniffed in disdain, "How do we know?"


    Ellen held up another trinket, "Orcish belt buckle." As she stood she looked up into one of the trees shadowing the road and made eye contact with an orc.


    "Ambush!" She yelled, diving into the drainage ditch on the side of the road.


    An arrow punctured the ground where she had been standing.


    Weapons flashed out in an instant, but since few of them had actually been paying attention to Ellen, almost no one knew where the arrows were coming from.


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    Katrina had seen, but she knew there was no way there was only one archer. She whipped her hands into the air. A small wind formed around her and with each passing fraction of a second it grew larger and fiercer. Rocks and dirt were picked up by the strong winds, obstructing the view. The wind was so strong it was difficult for the group to stand. Katrina tried to expand the eye of the storm to give the group a safe place to stand, but the group was too spread out.


    The wind kept multiple arrows from striking their targets. Instead the arrows thunked harmlessly into the ground or in trees. A few arrows she was even able to send back to their archers. The tiny lightning bolts that danced across her skin when she was irritated arced into the wind storm, charging it with electricity. Unfortunately, this hurricane strength wind meant that the fireball Shandra cast would be blown off course.


    Shandra had been reading a book when Ellen called the ambush, so she hadn''t seen anything. She saw some movement in one of the trees, took aim and summoned a fireball. Ultimately, this was fortuitous. The tree Shandra was aiming at did not have any orcs in it, but there were squirrels, whose movement had confused her. The tree she hit instead vaporized at the point of impact and a full thirty feet in every direction. What hadn''t been vaporized exploded outward as the sap super heated, expelling the two orc archers that had been hiding successfully in the branches, into the road.


    Broden launched himself at the fallen orcs'' broken bodies. His axe came down with a thunk, separating one orc from his head. The other, still on fire, was brokenly rolling in a futile attempt to put out the flames. His flailing took him into Mary''s range.


    Stroz believed he was a dragon and that gave him the ability to breathe the elements. Mary wasn''t certain if they were dragons specifically, and she wasn''t trying to be one, but she knew they were special and she was willing to use the idea of a draconic heritage as inspiration for her martial arts. She stood in her dragon pose when the flailing orc came into range. Before she struck the spirit of her dragon ancestor rippled through her muscles, her nails turned to claws and scales speckled her skin. She struck with blazing speed, ripping the orc''s brain out of its skull.


    Cole, seeing the danger surrounding them, stood by Katrina, guarding her. He brandished his sword, it blazed like the sun with holy energy. If anything stepped near Katrina it would be struck down in seconds.


    Stroz inhaled sharply and breathed oil at another tree, the oil ignited when it hit the air, setting the tree ablaze. Three orcs leapt out of the tree, attempting to extinguish the flames that licked over their leathers. The flames stuck to the orcs armor, cooking them like pork. The scent of roasting meat clung to the area.


    In the confusion, Finos scaled the tree the first orc had shot from, slitting the throat of the orc. He kicked the orcs'' wretched corpse out of the tree.


    Ellen nodded at the corpse, "That''s the last one."


    Faute, who was hiding in Katrina''s shadow with a ball of pink crackling energy in one hand, quaked, "How do we know?"


    Katrina stepped away, releasing the wind, "Ellen said so." she looked to Ellen, "Lead on."


    Kegar stepped forward, "Wait a moment." He looked around the fallen orcs for a heartbeat or two before turning to Ellen, "Lead on, Ellen."


    Ellen sighed and followed the orcs trail. The beginning of the track was well hidden in the brush on the side of the road. The trail was barely more than a game trail. At the end of the track was a clearing with a run down keep. The portcullis was down, but also so broken they could enter with minimal effort.


    Ellen waved Percival and Finos forward, "Okay guys-"


    Kegar grabbed Ellen''s arm, "Hold up. I''m the leader! What are you planning?"


    Ellen was growing weary of Kegar''s micromanaging. Sir Wilbur trusted her to do her job. Kegar needed not only to be a part of everything, he needed to influence it too. If she told him her idea he would change it, simply to have asserted his control of the situation. "All keeps have a back entrance." Kegar eyed her with suspicion, "All keeps do. I was going to have one of us check for a back entrance, one search the front to see what we can find out about our enemies, and one search the grounds to look for remains of orc camps."


    Kegar shook his head, "That won''t be necessary. This is clearly the orc chieftain''s hide out." His eyes flicked between the two men in front of him, "Percival check out the front, Finos the back."


    Percival was about to refuse when Lizzy stepped forward and patted his shoulder, "Go on, I''ll be fine here."


    Percival sighed and rolled his eyes. He wasn''t certain what to expect from Kegar now. They had been friends, he thought, but since Kegar was in leadership he was becoming more and more of an asshole. There was a part of him, one that was growing, that thought Kegar might try to get him killed. He had stood up to Kegar earlier and Kegar certainly didn''t like it. Percival worried about leaving Lizzy with Kegar, but he also worried about arguing with Kegar too much. He might wake up dead.


    Finos and Percival faded into the high grass. After a few steps, even Ellen couldn''t detect the ripple in the grass from their passage.


    "Since Percival is Lizzy''s bodyguard, you really should have let me go, Kegar." Ellen said whispering to Kegar.


    "Are you challenging my authority?"


    Ellen shook her head, "No. That''s why I waited to say something to you." She clenched and unclenched her jaw, "Sir Wilbur trusted me to be his tracker and huntsman. This is the sort of thing I did all the time. It''s the whole reason Sir Wilbur sent me with you, leaving the entire town vulnerable. If you don''t let me do my job, you are hobbling your authority and effectiveness."


    Kegar''s eyes narrowed, "What do you mean hobbling my authority?"


    Ellen hadn''t seen this kind of behavior since she had worked for Sir Halverik as his woodsman. Sir Halverik had been a petty lord obsessed with his authority. His arrogance made him sloppy and foolish. No one could be a master of every trade. His insistence to be the ultimate decision maker made things take forever to get done. The maids couldn''t change the sheets without his say so. Of course, that meant people tried to do things without his knowledge. It was necessary to keep the lands running. However, when people inevitably got caught, some of them were executed. It was what made her decide to leave Sir Halverik''s service. "Everyone knows why I''m here. If you don''t let me do my job, people will question your ability to do your job. That undermines your authority."


    Kegar nodded. He realized that he looked weak having to depend on Ellen, but he looked pathetic by not using her skills. Before he was able to consider this new train of thought much more, Finos returned.


    "There is a tunnel behind the keep. It looks like it may be the primary entrance. The tunnel is covered by dirt over a barrel cover, the tunnel is unlit so we''ll need to bring some light with us. Once you drop down, it widens to where two people could stand next to each other if they squeezed. There is a heavy door at the end," Finos smiled, "I can pick the lock." He sighed, "But I don''t know what is behind it. I heard voices, but I don''t know how many."


    Kegar nodded, "We''ll go that way. Get ready."


    Just before they headed out, Percival walked up, "We don''t want to go through that gate."


    Kegar glared at him, "What took you so long?"


    Percival took in the gathered people suited up in their armor, "I had to move cautiously over broken and rusted bits of gate. It looks like a monster tried to rip its way into the keep. I went a ways inside and heard something very large sleeping."


    Kegar looked at him like Percival was an idiot, "Did you see what it was?"


    Percival shook his head, "It was in a dark room. If I had tried to sneak in I would have let light in." He was glad Kegar was sold on going in the back. What had taken up most of his time was filling the entranceway with traps after he discovered the creature in the room. He had spent all that time trapping the area because he had to step over bits and pieces of bodies to get as close as he did to the dark room. At first, he had thought the body parts were from the horses and mules of convoys that had been taken, but when he came across a mangled arm he decided that whatever it was, he never wanted to see it awake. That was also the reason he didn''t tell anyone about the horse singing a song about dying. If he hadn''t seen those body parts he knew he would advocate saving a talking horse.


    Kegar frowned, "Some help you are. We don''t even know what we are against."


    Finos sniffed Percival, "You smell like you were in a troll lair."


    "Troll? It was pretty terrible smelling." He nodded, "That makes sense." Percival shuddered. If what he knew about trolls was true, then he had spent all that time trapping the entrance for nothing. Even if the troll hit every trap he put in there, it would probably be completely healed by the time the troll reached them.


    He shrugged. Wait a second. It''s not like the troll is going to come at us from behind. If we wake the troll - and there is no guarantee of that - most likely it won''t be until we get to the top of the keep. My traps won''t be completely useless.


    Kegar growled, "At least someone did their job right." Kegar shoved Finos forward, "You lead us in."


    "Uh, okay. Remember to stay low and be quiet." Finos led them along the wood line, then through the grass to a patch of dirt. He bent over and pulled a concealed handle, lifting it out to reveal a hole in the ground. The inside was very dark. He put his finger to his lips and pulled a moon rod out of his cloak pocket. The moon rod illuminated everything with a silvery white light for about forty feet. Finos tucked the rod in his belt to free his hands. One by one they lowered themselves into the tunnel.

 #14 Into the Troll Keep

    One by one they filed into the tunnel. Every third person into the tunnel pulled out a moon rod and stuck it into their belt. Broden entered the tunnel last as the rear guard. He closed the tunnel behind him, pulling the wooden cover over the entrance, just in case a patrol came by outside. There was nothing he could do about covering the lid with dirt, but it should help.


    Cole held his light at shoulder level instead of tucking it into his belt. He was trying to get a good look at the heavy, steel door at the far end. I think there are images of divine events on that door... I''ll have to get closer to check. Cole''s height, he stood head and shoulders over her, and broad shoulders prevented Katrina from seeing his discovery. To compound the matter, the moon rod shown right into Katrina''s eyes.


    "Hey, Cole, can you-" Katrina tripped over an exposed root and fell into Cole, their plate male clanged loudly together before Katrina tripped over Cole and rolled into the door. No one tried to stop her, they watched in stunned horror.


    Katrina climbed to her feet with a frustrated sigh and looked at Kegar, "I spoiled the surprise, shall we go in now or do you want me to give them more time to prepare?"


    Katrina began trying to get back to her original position, but gave up. There was more room at the bottom of the tunnel and she didn''t relish tripping again. Kegar motioned to Finos to open the door. He did, but he wished there was someone in heavier armor at the door now that sneaking wasn''t an option. Finos opened the door, saw two orcs covered in bottles throwing molotov cocktails at the opened door and slammed the door closed.


    Kegar grabbed at the handle, "Why did you close the door?"


    The sound of glass shattering answered his question. Fire roared on the other side of the door.


    Katrina readied a ball of electricity in her left hand, holding her spear in her right hand. She caught Finos'' eyes and nodded at him.


    He reached for the handle before jerking his hand back, "Hot." He pulled out a bit of cloth and wrapped his hand before opening the door again.


    Alcohol burned on the back of the door and across much of the floor by the door. Katrina flung her lightning at one of the orcs who had flung the bottles. The door swung closed again. The sound of glass breaking was overpowered by the shrieking.


    The door was pushed open knocking Finos back, he hadn''t been expecting someone to try and come through, so the very hot door struck him in the face. He stumbled backwards into Katrina who caught him. An orc wearing nothing but feathers filled the large doorway. His fist caught Katrina under the chin, sending her crumpling to the floor of the tunnel.


    Faute shrieked, "Something is trying to get into the tunnel!"


    Kegar gripped his staff tightly and used it to shove Stroz into the path of the feathered orc, "Then attack it!"


    Shandra flung a colorful spray of magic at the creature that was digging at the tunnel entrance, apparently too large to come in through the hole. Dark green hands, twisted and disfigured, sizzled when the energy struck them. The marks quickly smoothed as if they had never been.


    Broden rushed to the entrance of the tunnel, shoving others aside, his head and hands shifting into a lions. His jaw snapped onto one of the clawed hands, shaking it fiercely. He heard the sound of bones snapping under the power of his jaw. The creature roared in anger and used its other claw to rake Broden''s head, making deep furrows in his scalp. Under Broden''s mouth, he could feel the bones knitting themselves back together.


    Stroz breathed a breath of acid on the orc. The orc reached out blinded, grabbed the dargonman''s neck and began to squeeze. The breath of acid abruptly ended as Stroz struggled against his breaking neck. His neck muscles strained against the pressure and once again the tattoo on his back struggled to free itself.


    Mary, who was stuck at the back of the tunnel began to pummell the troll''s arms with her frustration. Her muscles rippled, pressing against the skin, like a creeping creature was struggling to escape. She screamed her fury and her impotence. It was crushing for her to see her brother dying but be too far away to do anything. Her fists hardened as scales pressed through her skin, the color of her hands shifting from a deep blue to a brilliant, blazing sapphire. Each blow from her fists hit with the added crash of thunder and the troll''s arms buckled under the blows, parts of the bones going concave.


    However, even as the strikes left black scorch marks, the troll''s body healed the injuries almost as fast as they where dealt. Only the monster''s screaming told that it was being hurt at all.


    Cole felt his blood pounding in his ears. The tangle of bodies in front of him prevented him from helping disengage the orc that was killing Tommy - Stroz. He felt powerless in the face of the turmoil. The strain of his friends'' pain pressed in on him. He felt so confused and afraid he could think of no words to call on his god with. All Cole had was his fear and panic. Please! Lord of sun and light! Help me! Help my friends! Warmth flowed down his spine as if a great strong hand was placed on his shoulder.


    A voice spoke in his mind. The voice was deep, calm and powerful. Don''t be afraid.


    Calm moved through him, raising his hand and stretching it toward Strozazand. He couldn''t reach much, but as the tips of his fingers brushed Strozazand''s back Cole''s hand glowed brilliantly. The light chased away all the shadows that hid in the tunnel as if the light were hounds hunting down shadow foxes.


    Stroz felt his bones being knit together where the orc''s strength had begun to damage them. His neck muscles now easily repelled the grip around them and the light headedness that had been swallowing him up was banished in an instant.


    As Stroz began to recover, Faute held her hand out toward the troll, her fingers splayed. Glowing pink energy, that smelled like sugar and bubbles, flew from her fingertips. The beams struck the troll''s arm and vaporized it, leaving nothing below the elbow. However, even as the troll recoiled in pain and anger, its arm began quickly re-growing. The green stump twisted and appeared to hungrily claw out toward the youths.


    "Shandra! Use your fire on the troll! Only fire or acid can stop it from healing!" Ellen called out. Her frustration grew exponentially. She was the only one among the group trained to deal with these creatures, but she was trapped in a tunnel with people she was supposed to be protecting, and they were pressing against her so much she couldn''t use the short bow she had brought for close combat.


    Shandra clutched a glass vial that held explosive liquid, against her chest. She had read about trolls and come to the same conclusion as Ellen, "I can''t! If I used a fireball or my Witches'' Fire it would kill us all!"


    Faute thought of her ring. She could save everyone by using it. Did he say three times a day or that the ring had three uses in it? She wondered. She couldn''t remember. Well, I''m not willing to risk it being three times total. I''m certain we''ll make it out somehow. Katrina always has a plan for bad situations. It made her uneasy to have the way to save everyone and not use it, I''ll use it if things get desperate. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Finos, finally able to disentangle himself from Katrina''s inert body, used her as a stepping stool to reach the orc''s neck. He pulled out one of his long, sharp, slender knives and pushed it up through the back of the orc''s head into its brain.


    As the orc''s corpse crumpled to the ground, the group began spilling into the room. Cole scooped Katrina up in his arms. She was struggling to return to consciousness, her eye lids fluttering. He had always thought she was beautiful, of course, but this was the first time he had been so close to her. He had never noticed how soft her skin was.


    Ellen had grabbed Katrina''s spear and dragged it into the room as well. The fires on the floor were largely out. Stroz practically had to throw Broden into the room. Once Broden was out of his way, he breathed a breath of clinging oil down the hall and stepped into the room before closing the door. The oil was like a black tar that clung to the walls and floor, when even a hit of spark struck it from the dying flames, the black oil ignited burning white hot.


    "Help me to hold it closed!" Stroz shouted as the troll threw himself at the door.


    Katrina''s eyes snapped open.


    "Oh, Katrina!" Cole breathed. I was so worried... but he couldn''t say that to her. Not right now.


    Katrina launched herself out of Cole''s arms, her gaze sweeping around the room taking in the wreckage, "Quick! Help me with this table." The table, some boxes and other bits were soon stacked against the door, holding it closed. The thumps grew fainter until they finally subsided.


    Kegar rounded on Katrina, who now that the door was solidly closed was leaning against Cole, who hadn''t left her even as she directed the group to help Stroz. Kegar''s bellowing voice echoed in the acoustics of the room, "This was supposed to be a surprise attack! How are we to sneak in when you can''t even keep your feet under you?"


    Lizzy tugged anxiously on Kegar''s sleeve, "Kegar, honey, keep your voice down. Anything spoken above a whisper can be heard through the rest of the keep."


    He shrugged her hand off his arm, "It doesn''t matter! Anyway" his voice rose, "they already know we''re coming because of someone!" He glared at Katrina, "Make as much noise as you want!"


    Katrina clenched her jaw until her face ached. Something quickly achieved after the recent blow she took. With those bomb throwing orcs, there could be move explosives in the room. The last thing we need is one of my tiny anger bolts setting off a bomb. Katrina struggled to control her temper. The power inside her whipped around her mind so aggressively, her vision began to darken as if storm clouds had passed over her eyes.


    To Cole and the rest she was an angry, frozen statue. On the inside she was a tempest. The ache in her skull compacted her anger, pressing for her to release the god given energy.


    When Kegar saw he would get no response from Katrina, he grabbed Finos and threw him bodily toward the door leading deeper into the keep, "Lead on."


    Ellen moved to wait with Katrina, she had after all, helped Katrina sort through her anger before. But Cole shook his head, "Please, I know you are friends, but I need to speak to her."


    Normally, she would never leave Cole alone with Katrina like that, but there was something about his face that compelled her. It was unnerving. Ellen sighed and followed Percival out the door. She wanted to trust Cole enough to not look back, but she found herself glancing back anyway. Katrina was much younger, but still her best friend as best she could reckon.


    Cole saw the growing bruise on Katrina''s jaw. Hesitantly, he placed his hands on her face and asked his god to heal her. Before the panic of that last fight, No, before I felt the hand of my god... he would have waited to heal her when she was awake so that she would know it was him. He would want her to know that he had healed her more than he would want her to be healed. But now... Sure, I still want her to know I healed her... but I want her to be whole because that''s how she should be.


    Her bruise faded away. He stepped away from her and gave her the space she clearly needed. He thought over what had happened in the rush of battle and what had happened in the moments before.


    It took Katrina less than five minutes to come to herself. She blinked, clearing away the fog. "Cole? Where is everyone?" Her voice was even, her earlier anger dissipated like a storm.


    Cole stood up from rifling through a dead orc''s pockets. "Ah, you''re back. The others went on ahead. Ellen was going to stay with you, but I asked to."


    "We should catch up with them." She said hurriedly, the last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a room with Cole.


    "A moment." Cole said. Held up his hand in a commanding gesture.


    Katrina was taken aback by it. He''s never been so... confident... before. She nodded for him to continue, intrigued.


    "Right before you tripped, you started to say something to me, what was it?"


    Katrina picked through the charred remains of an orc. She found a knife with three gems on its hilt; a ruby, topaz and emerald. She slipped it into a pouch. "I was going to ask you to lower your moonlight."


    Cole blinked, "What?"


    "The moon rod was shining in my eyes, so I couldn''t see." Katrina was facing away from Cole on purpose. She wasn''t trying to accuse him of anything. It was likely that if he hadn''t been blinding her, she would have seen the exposed root and not tripped. But that wasn''t a certainty. It was possible that even if everything had been going right, she still would have tripped. She wasn''t trying to blame what happened on him. But it was what it was.


    Her shoulders hunched. It had taken everything out of her to hold in her anger, to keep the bouncing lightning bolts from escaping the storm in her mind, she didn''t have the energy to mitigate his feelings too.


    Cole was quiet, "I''m sorry." It was a simple apology. He didn''t embellish it or try to explain how it wasn''t his fault for how he was holding the light. With the troll possibly on the other side of the door, it didn''t seem worthwhile to tell her about the possible markings on the door. Strozazand''s fire trap on the other side of the door had most likely destroyed the images anyway.


    The last of the black anger that had been knotted behind her eyes burned away like fog before the sun''s light. She turned toward him, "Really?" She asked, surprise evident in her voice. "I mean, thank you."


    Did her eyes flicker blue? Cole wondered, No. It must have been my imagination. Cole pointed to a drawer he had pulled out of an empty bookcase that was set into the wall. Katrina walked over to take a look at what he had found. The drawer was full of explosives. Easily enough to turn the entire keep to a heap of ash.


    "If these had been set off, we could''ve all been killed." Cole whispered.


    Katrina began putting the explosives in her backpack, a pensive look on her face. "You are touched by your god, right?"


    If Katrina had said that to him at the start of the day, he wouldn''t have known what she meant, but after today, he knew. "Yes."


    Her words came out slowly and hesitantly, "So you know how... the closer you get to your god, the more of their personality and their wishes you absorb?"


    I suppose that makes sense. This calm I feel certainly isn''t from me. He mused.


    "My goddess isn''t just a goddess of weather. Her primary focus is storms. She loves the flood of power, the way the wind bows the earth to her will. I have that power pushing me all the time. It is wearying to resist all the time. When I get angry and sparks fly it''s because I''m not just resisting my own temper, I''m resisting the power she offers to channel through me." She looked up and saw the confusion and shock on his face, "Perhaps you don''t quite understand." She looked down and placed the last explosive in her pack.


    Cole felt her closing down and wished he knew how to keep this openness. It was everything he had truly longed for, even not knowing it. "We should go catch up with the others."


    A quiet sigh escaped her like a dying gasp. They left through the far door and made their way toward the rest of their group.

 #15 Strozazand the Dargonman saves the day

    Author''s Note:


    Did some edits to Chap7. Wasn''t able to do any of the ones after it. (As of 14/4/16)


    *************************************************************************************


    Strozazand scratched at the azure stubble growing along his chin, and thought about Kegar''s betrayal. He felt conflicted. On the one hand, Sir Wilbur had made Kegar the leader of their group. Strozazand respected Sir Wilbur a great deal and valued the old man''s judgment, even when it irked him. On the other hand, Kegar had literally thrown him into harms way to save his own skin. That was cowardly. He didn''t care for cowards much. Strozazand knew that dargons didn''t generally have much use for knights, but he found their nobility intriguing.


    He kept pace behind Finos, deep in thought, Of course, I lived through the experience¡­ I''m a dargon after all. But as the shadows had closed around his vision, while he was being strangled, he had felt the hot sun of the southern wastelands warm his back and breathe new life into him. Cole had intervened on his behalf and that was out of character for the sun priest. He is also a coward, but at least he tries to overcome himself. That knowledge warmed Strozazand. He liked knowing that his friend was growing as a man.


    These were very deep thoughts for Strozazand and he didn''t have time to think about them while they were skulking through the basement of the keep. Unfortunately, they were things he needed to think about right now because it impacted how he would handle the rest of the day¡­ And the days to come.


    He sighed deeply. His steps were sullen as he trudged. Finos was searching everywhere he could reach for traps, which unfortunately ended about five feet up the wall. They had stopped multiple times for Finos to disarm this trap or that.


    The stone was dark and blended into the gloom. Stroz''s moonlight rod glowed strongly, illuminating the walls, but the walls were uneven and cast strange shadows. Finos stepped carefully down the empty hallway. Halfway down the hall, the left wall turned from stone to steel cell bars. They were ill-fitting and appeared to have been taken from another location and forced into the stone. Inside the cell were the broken husks of wagons that appeared to have been dropped from a height.


    Finos stopped and pointed to the ceiling of the prison, "See the seams there are the ceiling?"


    Strozazand did not, but he didn''t want Finos to think badly about him. Dargons should have good vision. I''ll have to work on that. "Yeah. Is that a trap door?"


    Finos nodded, "It is. I''m thinking that the orcs we killed outside were the ambush left for the traders, who after slaughtering the guards would force the merchants to drive the wagons to the keep. Somewhere above us is a section of the flooring that opens up and drops those wagons in here."


    Stroz eyed Finos, "Why do you think they left the merchants alive?"


    Finos pointed at one of the wagons, "See the right wheel? I can see human bones over there."


    Strozazand approached the cell. Sure enough, there were bones with a torn and bloody shirt. The cloth looked expensive and the bones could have been human, but Stroz didn''t know. He had never cared much about clothing, after all, he barely wore pants. He couldn''t tell the difference among bones either. It had never been a necessary skill before. Something else to learn, I guess.


    Stroz looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group. There was a heated¡­ discussion¡­ going on about whether Kegar should have berated Katrina the way he did. Stroz met Finos'' eyes and shrugged. It seemed like no one was listening to the direction Finos was giving about the traps.


    This wasn''t strictly true. Ellen was listening quite closely to what Finos was saying, but she was near the back of the group because she was bringing up the rear and waiting for Katrina. Since she was near the back of the group, Kegar was arguing so vociferously, and Finos wasn''t speaking loudly she couldn''t hear everything he was saying.


    Ellen glanced over at Mary, who was walking next to her, and shrugged. The benefit of being in the back was that they had more time to react if something came from the front. Since Katrina and Cole were behind them, they knew nothing would actually be coming from behind, but Ellen was insistent that the group set a precedent for how they wanted to continue.


    They continued on through a few more rooms. Chairs were overturned and mugs of ale spilled across tables. Stroz sniffed one of the overturned mugs, then touched the spilled liquid with his finger, "This ale is still cold. It was freshly poured."


    Finos nodded sadly at the waste, "And even more freshly knocked over. What a shame."


    Percival slipped through the melee behind them and sniffed the ale, "This is Southern Kingdom ale. It''s very expensive. There is no way the orcs could have gotten their filthy hands on it legally. Obviously, it came from one of the wagons they raided."


    Finos righted one of the mugs, "This was spilled after our fight with the troll. It would be warm if it were older. Maybe a few minutes out of the cask."


    Stroz smiled wistfully, "I''d love to take their cask, even if it is only partially full."


    Percival nodded in agreement, "It''s a sin that they spilled it so carelessly."


    Finos went to the door in the wall opposite from the one they had come through. It was locked. This was strange because it was the only door that had been locked. In fact, it was the only door they had come through that was shut. Finos hiked up his belt and approached the lock. After a few tedious moments of searching for traps around the lock, he began the process of unlocking the door.


    Percival was dragged back into the argument when Lizzy demanded that he agree with her and back her up. Stroz half listened as Percival hedged his words. Stroz felt bad for the southerner. Lizzy isn''t going to let him stay neutral and Kegar won''t tolerate anyone disagreeing with him. A part of him thought maybe he should back Lizzy up, but¡­ it sounds more like a lover''s quarrel and I want no part of that.


    Stroz waited behind Finos as the halfling picked the lock, Finos'' ear was pressed against the door, listening for the tumblers. His face was red and he was cursing softly. "Damn people won''t shut the hell up¡­"


    Kegar continued to argue with Lizzy about his behavior with Katrina. Stroz couldn''t hear what Lizzy was saying because she was speaking in a hushed tone, but Kegar had no problem raising his voice. Stroz had no patience for that sort of argument. Which was why he was at the front of the party with Finos. The tumblers clicked into place and the door swung open.


    Finos and Stroz looked into a room with four orcs standing, waiting for them on the other side. One of the orcs was a black-green, one was a cherry red, one was the yellow of decayed flesh and the last was a pale, powder blue. The blue orc held a ornate staff in both his hands, the staff glowed a sour blue that looked sickly. The yellow had a bow strung, but no arrows knocked. It was very obviously a trap. Finos pointed out arrow slits in the right-hand wall.


    Kegar shouldered his way toward the front, "Go on, Finos." he said impatient.


    "It''s a trap, Kegar." Finos said, stepping into Stroz and away from the doorway. "Whoever goes into that room will be shot by the archers hiding behind the arrow slits. Whoever is left alive will be wiped out by the orcs."


    Shandra pointed at the doorway, "Does anyone else see that shimmer around the doorway?"


    The yellow orc whispered to the black-green orc, his pitch too low for the party to hear, "Can I just shoot these idiots? Can''t they see us standing here?"


    Shandra pushed up her glasses and continued on, "It appears to be an anti-magic field. Anything cast into the room will be undone."


    Percival blanched, "Can we work around it?"


    The black-green orc grumbled back, "Stick to the plan."


    "Well," Shandra continued, "that depends. The field could just cover the doorway so we can''t cast into the room. Alternatively, it could envelop the entire room, preventing any magic from being cast even after we enter." She glanced at Faute, who shrugged, "If that''s the case, we won''t be of much help."


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    Stroz was a charge in kind of guy, but he didn''t have dargon hide yet. Which meant that an arrow, or more likely a crossbow bolt, would ruin his day. He eyed the orcs suspiciously. Stroz didn''t know much about orcs, but he thought they were charge in kind of guys too. He was disappointed.


    Ellen had been making her way towards the doorway. When she was close, she drew back the arrow she had already knocked and fired. The arrow flew about two feet before becoming entangled in the air. The arrow hung there for a moment before dropping.


    Kegar, still arguing with Lizzy, looked over just in time to see Ellen fire. He grimaced at the anti-magic field. "If Katrina hadn''t given us away, this trap might not have been here!"


    The blue orc leaned toward the yellow and whispered something. The two started laughing. The blue orc laughed so hard that his staff fell from his grip, which earned him a smack from the black-green orc. Since no one was focusing on the problems that were in front of them, or at least no one who could see magic, no one noticed that when the blue orc dropped his staff the anti-magic field that glimmered around the edges of the door disappeared for a moment before he picked his staff back up.


    While Faute was asserting her agreement with the dwarf, Lizzy snapped at Kegar, "If you hadn''t given us all away after the first battle they might not be here either!" She gripped her lute with white knuckles.


    The argument was spreading to other members of the group as the chief arguers, Kegar and Lizzy pulled additional people in. This excluded Faute, who had invited herself into the fight. The volume increased as they continued to bicker, with no one taking responsibility and everyone pointing fingers. Stroz couldn''t think with everyone yelling. We have these guys in front of us, why can''t we deal with them?


    The orcs who had been smirking and laughing at the group were growing impatient with every passing minute. Frankly, so was Stroz.


    One of the orcs; larger than the rest, with black-green skin and armor that covered him in brilliant feathers, took a step forward and garbled at him. The orcs language sounded like he was grunting underwater. Strozazand had never heard a language so¡­ stupid sounding. He was shocked to realize he understood it.


    "What are you cowards waiting for? Wait or don''t wait, death will find you. Come and let us be done with this so we can clean your pink blood off our swords and be done!" The leader snarled.


    One of the others laughed, "Those pink skins will die and be butchered like the swine they are!"


    The group laughed, but the leader was watching Strozazand. "Do you understand us, pink skin?"


    "How could I not with the way you babble? You sound like small dogs barking for attention!" For a language that sounded so barbaric, Stroz was surprised by how civilized it was.


    The orc leader scowled. "Why don''t you come out here and say that to my face, pink skin!"


    Stroz laughed, "Why would I want to come close? You''re so ugly I''ll probably go blind!"


    The leader clenched his fists, a low rumble emanated from his chest. Another one of the orcs, the much shorter red one, moved to step forward, but the leader put his hand out stopping him. "No, he is baiting us." A cruel smile pulled at his lips, "Smart, pink skin." He fixed his glare on the red orc who had stepped forward. "Let them come to us. From their shouting, we know they cannot go backward. Either they will come, or they will starve."


    The orcs responded in one voice, "Yes, master!"


    The leader turned back to Strozazand, "Pink skin, you are smart. Unfortunately, your friends are not, so you will die. However, I will give you the honor of knowing the name of the one who will kill you." With a dramatic sweep of his arm, he announced, "I am Grugnark the Smasher!" He hefted his club above his head, "And you will have the honor of dying by my hand!"


    Stroz frowned. These orcs seem certain of themselves for dung-sucking orcs. There has to be some kind of way to outsmart them! He thought about what he had seen and what had been done. The anti-magic was a problem since it effectively turned Shandra and Faute into pretty women instead of assets. The field stopped magic, but he didn''t breath by magic. His breath was an innate ability of a dargon. Maybe he could solve this himself!


    A smiled curled upward from his lips, "You shit-eating dogs will regret messing with me! I''m Strozazand the Dargonman and you will die by my hand!" Stroz took a deep breath, he felt the fire stirring pleasantly in his belly, hungry to be called upon.


    The orc leader''s, Grugnark''s, brow scrunched in confusion for a moment before relaxing, "Perhaps you should look at your fellow pink skins before you gloat."


    Stroz looked over his shoulder at his friends. He had tuned out their shouting and so hadn''t noticed how heated the argument had become. His attention turned just in time to watch Kegar yell, "Mary, you blue skinned idiot! You don''t have good ideas and you can''t!" He shoved her, hard. She stumbled backward into Stroz, knocking him off balance - into the room and through the anti-magic field.


    Grugnark laughed, his laughter echoed through Stozazand''s mind as an arrow struck him in the back. The tip of the arrow protruded from his stomach. The hooked arrowhead had caught his intestines and sliced them open. The smell of spilled bowels spilled into the air. Stroz marveled, seeing his insides outside.


    Mary''s face drained of blood. "Stroz!" Her hand stretched out for him, but when her hand passed across the anti-magic line an arrow pierced it. She jerked her hand back across the line.


    Ellen snapped the arrow and pulled it out.


    Another arrow wizzed by, missing Stroz as he stumbled, before a third arrow hit his thigh. He fell to his knees and turned his head toward the orc leader, Grugnark. He drew in a rattling breath as another arrow thudded into his back. He spat flaming oil at the smiling orc.


    Stroz smiled as the screams of the orcs reached his ears. His head lolled to the side, Mary and Ellen were running out to him. The arrows were streaming toward them.


    Perhaps it was the blood loss or the imminent death leering at him, but he saw the wind streams the arrows created and the shimmering of the fletching. Even knowing he was going to die, he was more horrified to see his sister about to die. Especially, in a vain attempt to save him.


    Fear laced through him and with it came pain. His back tore itself open and great, blue wings burst forth. His wings shimmered in the light of the moon rods, sparkling and turning the light of the room a brilliant blue. Stroz''s wings exploded out and surrounded Ellen and Mary. His wings cradled them like a mother hen''s her chick. Arrows thudded into the great leather and scale wings, but couldn''t penetrate.


    The last thing he saw before his vision darkened into nothingness was Mary and Ellen cupped in his dargon wings. I knew I would get my wings¡­ The shrieking of the orcs still echoed in his ears. He couldn''t focus until he heard Mary''s voice, "Strozazand! Stay with me!"


    Even as his skin grew cold and weak, he felt his body prickle as if a storm were rolling through the room. His flesh was reacting to the electricity coursing through the room, electrocuting the orcs who were already burning but his eyes were already blind and he couldn''t see the fruits of his flames or the late coming help of Cole and Katrina.


    The screams of his friends bounced of his fading mind. He couldn''t hear them call his name, or their attempts to come to his aid. Just as his eyes had faded, so did his other senses until all he had left was his final words.


    He smiled, blood spilling out of his mouth. "I saved you." but his words were nothing but a gurgle and the arrow that perforated his lungs rattled tearing him up. He tried to gasp a breath, but choked on his blood and died.

 #16 Traps and Secret Passegeways

    Cole''s bone plate armor grated as he walked. The whispering sounds of bone crepitus reminded him of the terrible spire he had faced not that long ago. The skeletons, in spite of the magic that held them together, had sounded much the same when they moved. He would never forget the sound of those monsters lurching forward, their fleshless joints scraping together¡­ a soulless hunger that radiated out from them¡­ A smile tickled at the edge of his mouth. A few hours ago, a reminder of that shameful experience would have made him surly.


    The soles of his crocalyal boots clopped down the stone hall. Each step taken, each shift of their shoulders had a chance of altering their foe.


    Cole and Katrina had discovered, after leaving the room they had found the bombs in, that the walls of the tunnels below the keep were designed to echo almost all sound forward. After their very quiet conversation, Katrina had stepped forward into the hall, and looked back at him and spoken. Cole hadn''t heard a word. A few experiments later and they knew it was like that all the way down the hall.


    If Cole was still the same man he had been when he emerged from his bedroll this morning, he would be angry about the sounds he was making and worried about whatever would hear them. Instead, he felt calm. He felt like he was radiating peace instead of ravaged by fear.


    What he had not noticed, but Katrina had, was that he was in fact radiating light. It hadn''t seemed that bright at first, she was now convinced he had started glowing in the previous room rather than when she had first noticed in the hall. However, as they walked, she had put away her moon rod because it was no longer necessary.


    In the beginning, it had just been Cole''s skin, a warm glow that seemed to give him more presence. At this point, his glow shone through his armor. Katrina wasn''t that surprised by this turn of events, not after their conversation at least. Cole''s deity was the god of the sun. Light is kinda his thing. She thought with a sideways glance at him.


    She did however, fluxuate between being concerned about the light and being at peace with it. He was a walking torch that couldn''t be dampened. That couldn''t be a good thing when they tried to sneak up on orcs. But¡­ his god should know that¡­ she mused, He wouldn''t try to get Cole killed on purpose¡­ I hope. She knew it was unlikely, highly unlikely, that his god would try to get him killed. Far more likely was that his deity didn''t consider the problems with a gift like that. I hope I''m wrong.


    Cole held out his hand, stopping her. After what they had learned about sound, they had agreed not to talk. It seemed a little silly, not talking since Kegar and the others were most likely arguing, but they had both agreed that if their friends were going to be attacked, they would do what they could to make it less likely.


    Cole pointed at the wall. The section was about five feet up, more than a foot about Finos'' head. What he pointed at was the strangest thing. A section of the wall was glowing. The stone looked like ordinary stone, except that it was radiating a steady purple glow.


    For a moment, Katrina thought about using hand signs to communicate her confusion, but then she remembered Cole had always refused to acknowledge Broden and her signing. With a mental shrug, she reached up and pushed on the wall. Hopefully, it won''t blow up.


    The wall slid backward before sliding to the left. The stone cheerfully grinding away as it did so. They cringed as they heard it.


    Cole''s eyes widened in shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but Katrina placed a gloved finger to his lips. She grabbed the ledge, about to lift herself up when he tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and saw him crouching slightly, ready to give her a boost.


    Katrina frowned. Does he think I can''t lift myself up? She considered not taking his help for a second, but then decided that her armor was heavy and she didn''t need to show off. Least of all for him. She took the leg up before turning back to give him a hand up. The porous nature of their armor made it lighter than traditional metal platemail, but it still left them in forty pound armor. Armor that''s nature was stiff and inflexible. Climbing in it would always be a pain.


    The secret passage was cramped for the first twenty feet before the floor began to drop and level out to the same height as the hallway they had crept in from. Cole placed his hand on Katrina''s shoulder stopping her. Curiosity spilled across his face, "Sounds aren''t being carried in here like they were in the hall." His words barely reached her ears.


    She nodded, she hadn''t been certain until he mentioned it, but once he did she recognized the change in the way the air felt. Even the way their armor sounded as they moved was different. They crept forward cautiously until they began to hear muffled cries of pain.


    Katrina''s heart lurched. It''s them. It could only be her friends. But if I rush forward¡­ there is no telling what is ahead. With just the two of us, we need to proceed with caution if we are to be of any help.


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    The rounded a corner and found themselves looking down yet another hall. However, as Cole''s light approached some of


    the flag stones began to glow red in their sight. The stones seemed to glow in no pattern he had ever seen. Red light filled his vision in a haphazard manner that appeared so random, it had to have been carefully planned. A sense of dread filled Cole when he looked at the stones. Whatever those red stones do, I clearly don''t want to step on them. Cole pointed to the stones and then began to step around them.


    Katrina followed, trying to focus more on avoiding the red stones than moving quickly. After he earlier blunder in the tunnel, she didn''t want to take any chances.


    They moved down the hall in virtual silence, both focused on the task at hand, both fighting the urge to run toward the growing screams and shouts. Sweat glistened across their brows. Neither of them had made acrobatics a point of study. Something Katrina, at least, was finding to be a serious flaw in her training.


    I''m definitely going to have to talk to Percival about helping me. Katrina thought, once again only narrowly catching herself as she stumbled. Lurching off balance, she hopped over a red stone and landed on one foot. Her right foot followed the left down, but she was able to hold it in the air, a hair above the stone. There was only enough room for her left boot, and that was with her heel lifted.


    She gasped, straining to hold herself completely still. Somehow she would have to reach her right foot far ahead of her without overbalancing herself¡­ she had tried to follow Cole''s steps at first, but his legs were so much longer than her own, she couldn''t reach the easy path.


    Cole glanced over his shoulder at Katrina. She moves so fluidly. He blushed, pulling his eyes away. Such grace¡­ He tried not to think about where else she was graceful in her movements, but seeing her dance across the stones brought a rush of fantasies to his mind.


    Cole arrived at the end of the hall first. After securing his spot, he reached back his hand so she could jump the last bit. It was an awkward jump, but he managed to catch her, their chest pieces grinding together from the impact and then again as he set her down on solid stone. His eyes followed her down, but her mind was already moving ahead.


    Together, they turned the corner and found themselves at an open room. Five ugly, stubby swamp brown orcs stood with their short bows notched. Their total attention focused on their individual slits in the wall.


    Twang.


    The orcs released their arrows. Cole and Katrina could clearly hear Mary''s tearful cries over the sounds of steel ringing on steel. The heartbreak in her voice told them everything they needed.


    "Strozazand!" His name was choked by tears.


    Cole, sword having virtually materialized in his hand, rushed forward. His blade began to glow with the fires of the sun. His blade licked through the first orc''s neck, lopping the head off before the creature could turn in surprise. The spurt of blood blinded the second orc, who had begun to turn at the sound of Cole''s footsteps.


    The orc clawed at its eyes, staggering like a drunk. Its howl fouled the air, letting the orcs on the other side of the wall know something had gone wrong. The third orc dropped its bow and started to draw its short sword, but as Cole finished his sword stroke, he leveled his blade at the third orc and shouted a word of power. The flaming light that had ensorcelled his blade shot at the third orc, reducing it to ash.


    Katrina had not been idle while Cole was busy. She had placed her feet solidly on the stone and began to pray to her goddess, her hands lifted above her head. Electricity leapt from her fingers, racing across her body, her parted lips looked hellishly stitched together as the tiny bolts zipped back and forth. She brought her hands down slowly before pointing a finger at the orc furthest from her, "YOU!" she spoke, her voice booming with thunder.


    The lightning arced from one orc to the next. It hit the last three remaining orcs before jumping through the slits in the wall. The smell of electricity was soon overpowered by the stink of burning orc meat and molten iron.


    As Cole approached the wall with the arrow slits, a section glowed purple. The two strode as one to the door, their armors and eyes burned with the holy power of their deities. The gentle light that had been emanating from Cole''s skin blazed, slaying even the thought of shadow from the room. Lightning arced off Katrina, swirling around her hands, and pooling in her eyes. They threw open the door, looking like avenging gods rather than the gentle healers their friends had come to know them as.

 #17 Brodens Contribution

    Author''s Note: Posting two chapters today.


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    When the arrows flew into Strozazand, Broden''s first instinct was to charge the orcs at the end of the hall. Blood red fury washed over his thoughts like a tsunami, obliterating everything except the thought of smashing the laughing orcs'' teeth in; beating them so soundly they wouldn''t have time to choke on their teeth before he killed them. Broden took a step forward, his axe seeming to have leapt into his hands. His knuckles were white against the shaft as adrenaline filled him - and then was washed away as if by summer rain.


    No. Go back the way you came. Find your friends, the clerics.


    The¡­ voice? smothered the rage that had been building in his mind. I need to go. The screams of his friends had been stirring his rage, now they fell away from him. Without even a glance at Shandra, he turned on his heel and sprinted down the hall.


    Broden was so focused on retrieving Katrina and Cole that he ran right past the secret door they had found. As a dwarf, it was above his line of sight ordinarily. But as focused and driven as he was, his vision had tunneled so much, he barely even comprehended that there were walls in the hall he ran down.


    He sprinted back into the room they had sealed the troll out of. The furniture stacked in front of the door had caught fire and burned down to ash. Broden walked over the entrance cautiously. The door still radiated an intense heat. As he poked around, it became clear to him that the burning heat from Stroz''s flaming spit had made the door so hot that everything stacked against it had ignited.


    Not only that, but the door had been heated so much that it had melted to the frame. Whatever attempts the troll had made to break through had resulted in dents, and obvious places where the door had buckled, but it hadn''t made it through before it had presumably, died. No one would be using that entrance anytime soon.


    Broden''s eyes flicked around the rest of the room. What furniture hadn''t been burned by the door, had been torn apart by Cole while he was waiting for Katrina to settle down. Even if Broden hadn''t been driven to find them and he had been inclined to search the room, there wasn''t anything left to search.


    He was turning to go back down the hall when a section of the wall fell away, revealing five orcs, their assorted skin tones revealing them to be from different tribes: red, yellow, grey, green, and fuchsia. They were so engrossed in bickering, about what Broden didn''t know, that it wasn''t until he had cleaved one of them - green - from shoulder to groin that they noticed him.


    Broden lopped off a second''s head on his back swing. The ugly red thing fell to the ground, bouncing and rolling, frozen in surprise. While the third - fuchsia - was yanking out his scimitar, Broden kicked him backwards into a grey orc who already had his weapon drawn, skewering the fuchsia orc as it crashed into him.


    The grey orc tried to retrieve his blade, but twisted his foot on the ghastly red orc''s skull. The grey orc fell heavily to the ground, trapped under his comrade. Broden made short work of the remaining two orcs.


    The yellow orc scored a hit against him, drawing a long thin line across his chest, but Broden had been able to back up enough that it was a superficial cut. It stopped bleeding soon after it was made.


    The open passageway beckoned him forward, until the voice echoed in his mind a second time: Find your friends.


    Without stopping to check the corpses, Broden turned back and returned down the hall. This time his head was up, his eyes were open and clear. He saw the passageway Cole and Katrina had used. Since this passage was open, and no voices told him to stop, he climbed in and followed it. He was glad no one was around to see him clamber up into it because he looked ridiculous. Grr. The open passage sat in the wall above his head. To climb into it, he had to stand on tip toe and pull himself up. Had his arms been less strong, it would have been much harder. His stocky body worked against him.


    Broden wasn''t one to dwell on things like shame, or really anything. He grunted mentally as he struggled up, but once he was in the passage all consideration of the struggle to get in disappeared in a wash of exhilaration.


    If Broden had been a man of words or thoughts, he probably would have thought something like: On with the hunt! But he wasn''t. He rarely thought actual thoughts. It was part of why he didn''t care for speech. Broden thought in emotion and color, which was very hard for him to communicate. He was, however, proficient in something he referred to as "muscle speech" which was a complex language of physical proportions.


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    Broden flexed his pleasure in a series of various poses. If Katrina had been there to see it, she would have translated his poses into sentences like "I''m awesome!", "That was great!" or "No one is as manly as me!" and Broden wouldn''t have argued with those sentences, because they weren''t exactly incorrect. But in truth, they failed to capture the complex emotions and the depth of feeling that he was exclaiming with his body.


    The inability of the common tongue to express what he felt was part of why he had given it up in the first place. The other reason, which he generally forgot about, was that he had been attacked by a wild cowbra and his vocal cords had been severely damaged. It had taken over a year for him to be able to speak again and by then he just didn''t bother anymore. That was such a long time ago¡­ he had forgotten. Or, that was what he told himself. When he thought about it, which wasn''t often.


    With these thoughts firmly out of his mind, he journeyed down the passage. When he came to the hall with the traps, he didn''t know it. That is, he didn''t know it until he stepped into the hall triggering the first trap. His sensitive ears, trained from an early age  to detect the sound of weepse wings approaching or even smaller and more deadly sounds from all his time alone in the Sk¨®gur Forest, heard the click of some mechanical dart being launched.


    Without thought, Broden adjusted his chest so the dart passed in front of him. He eyed the dart with curious disdain before turning to look down the rest of the hall. Unlike Cole, he was not glowing with a holy light that revealed hidden traps. Broden reasoned, with murky grey frustration moving through his mind, that if there was one trap there would be more. The hallway that Cole and Katrina had hopped and jumped, Broden charged through. Flames burst from the walls, the subtle sounds of triggers being activated caused him to adjust his movements. He wasn''t fast enough, however. He singed his beard in the trap, but Broden didn''t let that stop him. He did a rolling spring, letting him put his beard out while still advancing him. Unfortunately, one of the stones that he landed on was one that also triggered a collapse. He scrambled the last few feet, the callused, leathery soles of his feet pushing off against stones that were vanishing under them. When he reached safety at the end, he turned and watched as the entire hallway fall into a murky dark substance that bubbled and hissed.


    Heh. He thought to himself, brushing dust off his legs proudly. Broden did a few victory flexes at the destroyed hallway, preening over his athletic skill before following the passage the rest of the way. At which point, he discovered the bodies of the orcs Katrina and Cole had slain. His shoulders slumped for a moment. He was disappointed that he missed the fun.


    Katrina was shimmering with holy energy. Divine sparks danced around her skin. In other words, she looked like she always did. At least, she didn''t look any different in his sight. Cole however was completely transformed. Before now, Cole had always looked like a normal human, somewhat dark, certainly not glow-y at all. Not now. Cole blazed. Broden couldn''t look directly at him because it was like looking into the sun. Broden felt this was appropriate as a priest of the sun and felt a warm, happy yellow glow spread over him.


    Katrina was bent over Strozazand, who was glowing with enough lightning he could be one of Shandra''s experiments, while Cole was yelling at Kegar. Broden was surprised that cowardly Cole, of all people, would yell at Kegar. Broden knew from experience how petty Kegar could be when he felt threatened. Now that Kegar was going to inherit Pode through Lizzy¡­ Cole''s family, if not Cole himself, could expect some pretty stiff repercussions for this outburst¡­ even if it took them a few years to be allowed to go home. Broden was awash with a sigh of blue thoughts.


    Looks like they found their way without me. Broden wiped the orc blood off his axe, I guess there wasn''t a point in me going to find them.

 #18 Its a Valid Question

    Author''s Note: This is the second chapter I posted on 15/6/16.


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    It had been gut wrenching for Ellen to see Strozazand die. He was a young man that she felt like she had helped raise. Had raised, given how uninvolved his parents had been. She had taught him to fish in the Vatnie Lake, tried to teach him how to clean and cook his catch, and taught him how to defend his kills against crocalyals. The trick was masking the scent of the food so the crocalyal never knew it was there¡­ the other option was running quickly.


    He had been the only person in the entire village that she had shared her true age with¡­ mostly so that he would believe her when she told him she knew more about things than he did¡­ but still, she hadn''t told Katrina or even Sir Wilbur. And he hadn''t betrayed her trust by telling anyone. She felt responsible for him. She had watched him grow up before her¡­ and she watched him get cut down because of Kegar''s negligence.


    Ellen ran to him, chasing Mary, even knowing there was little if anything she could do for him. The best she could do was defend Mary. Her boy would understand. He would appreciate that she was protecting his sister. The two siblings didn''t always get on well, but given how their parents played them against each other, they cared surprisingly deeply for one another.


    The arrows flew, the orcs laughed, and death would come. But then great blue wings burst from Strozazand''s back, protecting Mary and her. Even as the light went out of his eyes, he kept his wings around them.


    That''s my boy. She didn''t realize tears were streaming down her face.


    Hiding under the cover of his¡­ corpse¡­ she began shooting her own arrows at the laughing orcs in front of her. She focused a moment, pooling violet energy around the arrowhead, it swirled eerily before she drew the fletching back to her ear and fired. The yellow orc tried to catch her arrow with his throat, which would have been a poor plan under ordinary circumstances. With the psionic energy wrapped around the arrowhead, the arrow severed the yellow orc''s filthy head from his shoulders and embedded itself into the stone wall behind him. His pustulous corpse collapsed to the floor of the keep, spewing a noxious fountain of red blood.


    The remaining orcs left off their laughter and began advancing, weapons drawn. Ellen knew she wouldn''t be able to defeat them all, not with Mary hysterical beside her.


    The hair on her forearm stood on end, old wounds began to ache, no longer suppressed by adrenaline, "What the¡­?" She murmured, notching another arrow.


    Electricity flowed out of the arrow slits like a torrent, jumping from one orc to the next. Their bodies froze, then jerked wildly in an electric dance of death before collapsing. With its final leap, the lightning jumped to Strozazand, where it seemed to be absorbed into his skin, leaving only a slight crackle behind.


    With hesitant fingers, Ellen reached out to touch Stroz''s wing. "What the hell?"


    "I wouldn''t do that, Ellen." Finos remarked, causing Ellen to startle. At some point during the skurmish he had come up to stand next to her. His bow was notched.


    Ellen stopped. She glanced backwards, certainly she hadn''t been looking for anyone else to run into the death trap, but now that Finos had¡­ Percival was doing what he had been hired to do, protect Lizzy. In fact, he was physically restraining her from going out into the kill zone. The look on his face said that if he wasn''t holding her, he would have been out there. Shandra was fumbling with her potions, clearly looking for something that would help. Broden was¡­ gone. Which was a surprise. Out of everyone, he was the person most likely to charge into danger headless of his safety. Faute looked on with pure panic etched into her face. That level of total terror would have worried her, and it did, but she was far more concerned about Kegar who was looking on in disgust.


    That can''t be right¡­ Ellen thought, trying desperately to find another emotion etched in his face.


    Kegar saw her looking at him, "What was that?" His face twisted, as if he were trying to hide his reaction but was unsuccessful.


    Part of the stone wall, by the arrow slits, fell away. The stone ground against itself, echoing down the hallway. Cole and Katrina stood like avenging archangels. Cole shone like the sun, his light blistering away any darkness or shadow. His bone armor gleamed like polished gold. Katrina was wreathed in lightning, the electricity arced around her, culminating in a javelin forged from lightning.


    "What happened?" A voice boomed out from Cole. It was like the sound of a thousand hammers forging the perfect blade.


    Katrina, having no consideration of the lightning around Stroz, checked his pulse and found him dead. Tenderly, she began to remove the arrows that peppered his body.


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    "What happened!" Cole repeated, advancing on Kegar. "You lead this group, you have the authority and the responsibility. Now, answer me!" Cole spoke with the scorching power of his deity. Ellen felt the power go out of him and the compulsion wrap around Kegar.


    Surprise lit up his face. He struggled for a moment before answer, "It''s Mary''s fault he''s dead! I was trying to decide what to do, we had clearly reached a trapped room, but she stumbled, the clumsy blue cowbra, and pushed Stroz into the room. That''s when he was shot. After she pushed him."


    Ellen listened in outrage, That''s only loosely true at best! Ellen opened her mouth to argue when she was cut off.


    "We do not have time to argue. Every instant of hesitation gives our enemies more time to prepare." Katrina hefted Stroz''s corpse over her shoulder, her javelin having already been absorbed back into her skin. Katrina tucked Stroz''s winds securely against his back while she murmured, "Not that we haven''t already given them ample time."


    Cole nodded, the dry heat of the desert sun radiating from him. "We discovered that this whole section of building is reflecting sound toward a central chamber further in." He outlined the experiments they had done to determine this.


    Lizzy nodded. It was what she had tried to tell Kegar when they entered the first room.


    Kegar stood his ground, now that the divine power wasn''t pulling words from his mouth he could say what he wanted, "If you two had been here instead of dealing with her temper tantrum or discovering things together, Strozazand would still be alive!" His words struck at Katrina''s fear.


    "That¡­ is doubtful." Cole began, surprise turning everyone''s faces towards him.


    It was rare for Cole to think of anyone but himself. Let alone to come to another''s aid three times in the same day. What happened? Ellen wondered.


    "If she had not controlled the divine wrath we all know burns inside her, then we would all be dead from the explosives in the room. And if she hadn''t helped me understand my divine encounter, then we never would have found the secret passage. Obviously, it goes without saying that the orcs couldn''t have been dealt with without access to where they were shooting their arrows."


    Kegar, not wanting to argue with this new Cole, turned on Finos and Percival who were both looking guilty, "It''s your fault he''s dead. You should have found the secret passage!"


    Mary reached out to touch her brother, but Katrina stepped away, "Don''t. Although he''s dead, his body is filled with divine energy. No one should touch him but me."


    Mary didn''t turn her tearful eyes away from her brother. He was finally beginning to respect me. She felt guilty for how close she felt they should have been, but weren''t. She felt shame that Kegar was right. It was because of how clumsy she was, if she had been able to catch herself, she wouldn''t have pushed Stroz out after Kegar shoved her. "What do you mean?"


    Katrina patted Stroz on the wing, "It seems as though Strozazand the Dargonman has found favor with my goddess. The unexpended energy from the chain lightning was sent into him and is preserving him. I can only assume that it''s because you two have the blood of blue dragons flowing through your veins. She favors blue dragons."


    Mary''s eyes widened. I didn''t believe it was true¡­ but to know we are from blue dragons? She looked at the blue skin on her hand, Maybe it isn''t meant as a curse?


    "Why can''t you bring him back now?" Faute still hadn''t stepped in the room. Shandra glared at Faute, but she sniffed and replied, "It''s a fair question. I''m just saying what you all are thinking."


    Cole shook his head slowly, "Neither of us are strong enough to channel that kind of energy. Only a bishop or someone that caliber could. There is probably one in Capita. If we can complete the king''s mission quickly, he might even give us access to the priest as a bonus for helping him." He flexed his shoulders, "So, let''s kill this chieftain, go back to Capita and get our friend back."


    Broden, panting and out of breath thundered from the secret passage.


    Katrina walked over to him, she moved slowly under the weight of her burden. She patted his shoulder, "Thanks for coming to get us, but we made it."


    Broden''s shoulders sagged as he looked at the limp body of Strozazand.


    "I''m sorry you missed it. Cole and I obliterated them with some hefty divine power." Katrina smiled sadly, before turning to follow Cole through the next hall.

 #19 Clearing the Keep

    Finos and Percival surveyed the arguing and began to loot the pockets of the dead orcs. It was a filthy, thankless task, but Percival pulled a written letter from the loin cloth of the biggest orc. The letter was badly stained with blood and in a language that Percival couldn''t understand. He pocketed it. It isn''t the time to try and read it. Perhaps after we dispatch the leader.


    In spite of Ellen''s pain and sadness over Strozazand''s death, a slow sad smile bloomed across her face when she saw Cole and Katrina taking charge. Something deep had happened to him when they fought the troll, whatever it was, it had saved their relationship. Not only that, but somehow respect and understanding had formed. He allowed her to direct him and she allowed him to speak for her. Has she been asked yesterday if such a thing where possible, she would have laughed. Clearly, he felt secure in who he was, which meant that he no longer had to undercut who she was.


    The group found a second trapped room. However, this time Cole''s light illuminated the secret passageways, which meant they weren''t missed. Missed or not, the room and it''s adjacent archer-hold were abandoned. An overturned table, spilled beer and strewn cards indicated a group of orcs had been there.


    Shandra''s shame at not being able to help Strozazand made her critical of everything. She eyed her surroundings and tried to draw conclusions, but her shame clouded her mind preventing answers from finding their way in. "Are these orcs that have run away? Or are these the orcs that had come into the trapped room¡­ that¡­ Stroz¡­" She looked away.


    Finos, still feeling guilty for missing the passageway sniffed the beer, "These are different ones. This was spilled too recently to have been the ones that attacked us."


    "Great!" Faute exclaimed, "Because of--" she glanced at Katrina who was still pulsing with holy light, "Finos not finding the passage every orc between here and the capital knows where we are and is lying in wait!"


    Katrina didn''t even glance over her shoulder, her focus was being spent trying to reach her goddess. "This is hardly the time to point fingers." She said soothingly.


    Kegar, who couldn''t resist a jab at Percival, continued as if Katrina hadn''t spoken, "Percival could have tried to find it. How can he be trusted with Lizzy''s safety if he can''t find a simple secret passage?"


    Ellen had grown tired of Kegar''s underhanded and biting comments. "We trust Percival because Sir Wilbur gave him that authority, just like he gave you authority. Saying we shouldn''t trust Percival is like saying we shouldn''t trust you." She glared at Kegar.


    "Enough!" Katrina snapped. The lightning encircling Strozazand brightened considerably before fading back. "Cole, please lead us out. There is most likely an ambush coming. Broden, go with him. Be prepared to attack. Ellen, Finos, Percival, you have bows and such, have your weapons at the ready. The rest of you should be ready to cast spells at a moment''s notice." She grabbed Mary''s shoulder pulling her back, "Stay with me. I need someone who can defend me if they try to flank us."


    Kegar leaned over to whisper to Lizzy, he stood on his tip-toes to get as close to her as possible but his words were still clearly heard, "How can we trust her to make good decisions with that temper always beneath the surface?"


    Lizzy shook her head, "Give it a rest Kegar. We''re all upset about Strozazand."


    Ellen regretted her comment to Kegar. She knew that anyone who addressed Kegar''s failure directly would have unpleasant experiences. She hadn''t missed the¡­ consequences¡­ Percival was having to face after standing up to Kegar outside of Capita. But this cowed silence that clung to the group, they were just letting Kegar get away with killing one of them! Someone they had grown up with, her boy. I know that he is going to be their lord, that they have to think of their families¡­ but he practically murdered Strozazand!


    Ellen stirred her psychic energy. I need to be careful with how much I use. Who knows what is coming next¡­ Kegar looked so smug. Like he at best, did understand what he had done, and at worst, was proud of himself. He needs to feel bad for what he''s done.


    Ellen focused her thoughts on Kegar. Her mind reached out to his and placed a thought in his head. At least Katrina hasn''t killed anyone.


    Kegar''s eyes widened. He glanced around the room. Ellen had done this sort of thing before, a long time ago, before Pode. So she knew not to look at Kegar, no matter how she might want to see his reaction. I hope you feel guilty you bastard. The last thing she wanted to do was to give him something to fixate his guilt on.


    Of course, that was the problem. The last time she had done this to a man like Kegar, it had just been her. There had been no one she cared about that the evil man could punish for his actions. Ellen''s despair at Strozazand''s death had led her to not think through the consequences of her own actions for not her, but others. She could disappear into the forests if she wanted to, none of them would be able to track her. She didn''t have to go back to Pode. She had options. She had formed attachments, of course, she didn''t look forward to leaving them. But she could.


    The rest¡­ not so much. They had family: siblings, mothers, fathers, friends. People who depended on them. Winter would be hard for them even if they were able to send goods and money back home from their heroic deeds¡­ if they never came back¡­ or worse, if they came back and the new lord held them with disfavor¡­ it would be a disaster. One that would certainly result in a few deaths.


    Kegar, finding no one in particular looking at him, glared daggers into Percival''s back. His anger was a tangible aura around him.


    The group crept down the hallway in virtual silence. When Cole reached the door at the end, he glanced back at Katrina, who nodded. Cole clutched his sword in both hands. The burning heat of the sun licked up his blade. Broden held his axe at the ready, the muscles of his neck strained for a moment before his head rippled and transformed into a lions.


    That shift acted as the signal. Cole kicked the door, breaking the latch and sending the door whipping inside. Broden, with the once cowardly Cole on his heels, charged inside. Their weapons cleaving through anyone or anything in their path.


    The motley crew of orcs were not surprised by their entrance, they were however, blinded by the intense light radiating from Cole. Their arrows fired semi-wildly; as they hadn''t suddenly become stupid when they were sun blinded. What "aiming" was done, sent the arrows in Cole''s direction. The arrows struck his divinely enriched platemail and fell away harmlessly.


    Broden was less lucky. A single arrow struck him in the gut, but before he could stumble, Cole reached out and touched his arm. The arrow fell out and light, rather than blood poured out of the wound until it sealed.


    Cole''s sword scorched through orcs, leaving the stench of burning flesh and cauterized wounds. Broden, not dealing death fast enough, left his axe buried in one of the many orcs that had risen up against them and began tearing into them with his fangs.


    He clamped down on a grey orc''s throat before ripping it out. Blood spurted into the air, spraying the melee. He roared his pleasure once, the rumbling roar cowered the orcs for an instant of hesitation before both he and they returned to the bloodshed.


    From over Cole and Broden''s shoulders, mostly Broden''s since he was shorter, a volley of arrows and knives flew. Ellen didn''t bother charging her arrows with energy before loosing them. There were too many orcs for her to use it on each arrow that she was firing and she was firing too rapidly to take the time. She, like Finos and Percival, aimed for the orcs just behind the ones Cole and Broden were fighting. The ones in the front row died too fast for them to help.


    "Magic users! Attack!" Katrina called. She shifted her grip on Strozazand. She was used to carrying bales of hay or bags of feed. However, those were usually no more than eighty pounds in a single sack. Even if she carried two, and she often did, that was one on either shoulder. Strozazand was well over eighty pounds and he was slung over one shoulder.


    Lizzy''s pure voice rang out over the din of battle. Power went out of her and into the arms of the combatants. To her friends, she fed strength, even Katrina found herself feeling stronger and able to continue carrying Strozazand without issue; to her enemies, she harvested strength, their attacks grew weaker as if there was simply less power in their arms.


    Shandra pointed a finger at the combatants and spoke archaic words. The language was filled with fire and pain. Flames encircled her finger before six tiny balls of fire shot out striking six orcs who were immediately consumed. Nothing remained but ash. Her face went pale and she fell to her knee, gasping for breath. Not too long after, she was able to cast the spell again, with similar results.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Faute, not to be outdone by Shandra, summoned energy from herself and fired pink light from her fingers. Her attacks were not as potent as Shandra, no one combusted, but her attacks were more frequent and more numerous. Their body counts amounted to about the same.


    Kegar leaned against his staff. Blood spray covered one side of his face. He idlely wiped it away with the back of his hand.


    Katrina glanced at him while giving directions to the others.


    His eyes narrowed at her, "What do you want me to do? Summon vines to choke them? Not much plant life here." He looked back at the melee, and sighed, "I''m doing what I can."


    Wading through the rainbow corpses of fallen orcs, Cole came to a fuchsia orc. He stood head and shoulders over the other orcs and had been giving orders in their guttural language. Feathers had been stitched into his skin; shoulders, back, and scalp.


    Cole entered a guard position, "You will die for your crimes orc! If you thought uniting your people so you could pillage mine would work, you are sorely mistaken!"


    The large orc laughed pointing a bulbous thumb at his chest, "I am Glogallath the Ravager!" He gestured at Cole, "If you think I am the chieftain that united the orcs, you are a fool. The orcs under my command are a small fraction of the orcs my brother has subjugated."


    "You can talk?" Cole had only spoken to the orc for appearance sake, he hadn''t thought the creature could understand him.


    Glogallath the Ravager smiled disdainfully at Cole, "Even if you defeat me, you will never be able to defeat Thmug the Subjugator! With the backing of the swamp dargon, no one will be able to stand against the hordes! We will pillage your lands! We will take your women and eat your children!"


    While Glogallath had been bragging to Cole, Broden had circled behind him. The dwarf with the head of a lion sank his fangs into the calf of the orc. The giant orc howled his pain. His left hand slapped down and gripped the lion head, his filthy talons drew blood as they clutched Broden''s head. Then he shouted three words in a foul language that Shandra recognized. Four flashes of light thudded out from his hand and into Broden''s head.


    Cole used the orc''s distraction to strike at him with his flaming blade. The orc however, had different plans. With a shout in that strange language and a flick of his wrist, he knocked Cole aside. The sword spun out of his hand, the flame going out as soon as it left his hand. Cole flew against the wall and cracked his skull.


    Glogallath tossed Broden''s inert form away from him. A creeping smile crawled across his face revealing his tusks. They had been carved with runes and then smudged with red dye, or possibly blood. The runes seemed to glow with an unnatural light.


    Katrina and Mary moved to place themselves between the ranged people and the orc. Katrina''s eyes were storm grey, her voice as hard as hail, "On my mark, hit him with everything you''ve got!" Electricity pooled in her empty hand.


    Ellen pulled back her arrow, the arrow was one of her special cowbra arrows, tipped in the venom of the strange and unnatural creature. She poured all of her focus and energy into the arrow, the length of the arrow spun with purple psychic energy.


    Power radiated out from the group, but the orc just smiled. His steps thundered against the ground and he seemed to grow in size with each step. His hands twisted into claws, the talons revealing the same runes as his tusks.


    "Now!" Katrina shouted. Everyone, except Kegar, lobbed their most powerful attacks, emptying all their energy and pouring it this joint effort.


    For a moment, it seemed it wouldn''t be enough. But then Cole''s sword burst through the orc''s chest. Cole was on his knees behind the bastard, the sword shoved up through feathers and pelvis and out through the center of his chest. The orc''s hands came up to the blade and struggled with it for a moment, as if he was confused that there was something there.


    The magic from the rest of the group prevailed against his defenses and fell on him at once, as if wild animals. His body blackened and charred, fell to its knees. Broden, struggled to his feet and staggered to the body. His head was shifting back. The bones sliding against each other with groans. While his hands were still claws, he plunged one into the orc and pulled out the monster''s heart. When he crushed it, the orc turned to ash.


    Faute looked on in disgust, "Was that really necessary?"


    Broden nodded.


    Faute rolled her eyes.


    Shandra was surprised, "It was actually. I''m surprised you knew that. I was going to ask some¡­ else¡­ to cut out his heart. He would have come back if we hadn''t crushed his heart. How did you know?"


    Broden pointed to his mouth, still smeared with blood, "Tasted it." Normally, he wouldn''t have answered, but it was Shandra asking¡­ so¡­ Hopefully it won''t become a habit.


    Katrina walked over to Cole who was still on his knees. "How are you feeling?"


    "A little banged up. My head is pounding." He used his sword as a crutch to stand.


    "Thought so." She laid her hand on his shoulder, sparks raced around his body for a moment, leaving him feeling better than when they came into the keep. She turned and put her hand on Broden, restoring him to better than new. "I hope no one else gets injured, because I''m all tapped out."


    Cole nodded, "Well, this was a bust. No orc chieftain. Let''s go to the top, make sure everything is dead and get out of here."


    Kegar snarled, "How can you be sure? Just because some monster said he wasn''t chief, doesn''t mean he was telling the truth."


    Percival collected his knives, along with some meager amounts of copper, from the corpses of the dead, "Give it a rest Kegar, there aren''t enough orcs here to be the united tribes."


    Cole and Broden led the way to the top of the keep. The ground floor of the structure, which was also the highest floor since the upper floors had collapsed, had trap doors that fell into the cells they had seen in the basement. Cole''s holy light illuminated the places to avoid.


    Kegar still almost stepped on one of the traps, but Lizzy stopped him. After he realized that they had a way of seeing the traps and he didn''t, Kegar just followed in Lizzy''s steps.


    When they came to the last room, Cole stopped them. They could see the sunlight pouring in through the broken gate. Cole''s eyes flicked around the room.


    Kegar pushed his way to the front, "What''s the matter? See the exit and now you''re scared?"


    When Kegar finished speaking a distinct sound echoed through the building. It was sound of weeping, "HELP ME! PLEASE!"


    Faute glared at Katrina, "Someone is crying out for help and you aren''t going to save them?"


    Cole, waved them to be quiet, before answering Faute in a hiss, "There are traps strewn throughout the whole damn room! We can''t charge in there. Anyway, we don''t know if that''s a trap, but it likely is given how many traps there are!"


    Faute touched the ring Sir Reginald had given her. She still couldn''t remember if the spell was three times a day or three times period, but she did remember the bargain she had made with him. "Are you a horse?"


    Cole glared at her.


    The sad voice called back, "Yes! My name is Paint the Horse, the Horse of Destiny! Do you know my master Sir Reginald?"


    Faute nodded, then remembered he couldn''t see her. "Yes, I met him in Capita. He is worried for you."


    "Not that worried, I''m afraid. You are the first people to have come for me. I was afraid that troll would eat me, but you seem to have killed or driven it off. Whatever you did, it was wonderful!"


    Percival moved to the front of the group, "Here, let me try and disable these traps." Since they were largely ones he had set, he was able to take them down in record time.


    As soon as there was a clear path, Faute ran to the horse. Kegar grabbed her arm, "I''m a druid." He said hauntily, "This is what we do."


    She shrugged past him. He stuck his staff between her legs and tripped her, then sprinted to the horse and began releasing the creature. Before anyone else got into the room, he took the horse''s head in his hands and stared into one of Paint''s beautiful brown eyes, "You are my horse and mine alone. You love me."


    Paint''s eyes glazed slightly, "I love you."


    "Good." He patted Paint''s shoulder.

 #20 Divine Watchers

    Two divine figures reclined on grass too vibrant and lush to be in the mortal realm. Their respective powers coiled underneath them to provide them with comfortable places to rest, almost like they were resting on divans. A still pool spread out before them, showing them the mortal world. The divine realm breathed peace. It wasn''t that nothing was going on, merely that nothing was at odds.


    Morgunstjarna sat up from the brilliant light he had been reclining on and pumped his fist in the air once, "Yes!" His skin was like burnished bronze and he wore a white, plated shendyt kilt around his waist embroidered with golden runes. A golden belt rested above his hips. His hair fell down to his shoulders like gold and scarlet fire.


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur patted his hand, continuing to rest on her couch of pleasant white clouds, "That''s wonderful dear. You''ve been trying to get through to that boy for years." Her skin was the color of a cool breeze and her hair was the sable of night. Her beauty was devastatingly lovely. She wore a shear slip of a dress, it was the color of a clear day. The dress was modest in length, however, whatever modesty it possessed it more than made up for in transparency.


    "Finally!" He grinned broadly at her, his teeth brilliantly white. Concern flitted across his face, "I don''t know what''s wrong with that place, but everything we send down there keeps getting jumbled." Morgunstjarna sat up and stretched.


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur nodded, frowning. "I know what you mean. It makes no sense why Katrina has to struggle against so much storm. I''m almost never storm." In a mockery of her words her dress, began turning cloudy and grey. "I didn''t know there was an creature in all of creation that could prevent us from communicating to our chosen."


    Morgunstjarna reached over and took her delicate hands in his large ones, "We''ll figure this madness out. Whatever is preventing the others from coming and heeding our warning, will come to light soon enough, everything does." They sat quietly looking into one another''s eyes until at last Bl¨ªeur Vindur pulled away with a sigh. "We shouldn''t leave them alone for long. There is no telling what trouble they could come up with."


    They looked back into the still pool just in time to see Kegar push Strozazand to his death. Bl¨ªeur Vindur''s jaw clenched. She saw Katrina''s chain lightning kill the orcs in the room and before it dissipated, she changed its nature from death giving to life giving. She wrapped it around Strozazand''s body.


    Morgunstjana''s pantheon didn''t include weather, so he couldn''t see what exactly she did, though he could see her working. "What did you do?" he asked.


    She shook her head harshly, "They need Strozazand. I''m not letting that idiot ruin our plan to save their world. More is at stake than their island." She sighed, "I wish I could be more direct. I had hoped to resurrect him... but this interference... it stopped me. All I could do is preserve his body till someone with a stronger connection to me than Katrina does, asks for him back."


    Morgunstjana''s rested his hand on her shoulder, as they looked at the would-be-heroes mourning Strozazand''s death. "They aren''t going to get the truth while that dwarf has the others gripped in fear." His words were punctuated with the sudden appearance of a young blue dargon beside the still pool. "We should try to let Cole and Katrina know what happened when they sleep tonight."


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur nodded her agreement before turning to address the dargon. The dargon was looking at his claws in wonderment. His belly scales were the color of a cloudless sky at high noon, his spine the bluest black of the night''s sky. "You weren''t supposed to die, Strozazand, but don''t worry. Katrina and Cole will have you back alive in a week''s time."


    Strozazand was fascinated by his new hands, they were almost like a memory of human hands, covered in scales with talons instead of nails. They were dexterous enough that he could have held a fine crystal glass without breaking it, while strong enough that he could crush a boulder in one claw. He looked up from his hands in wonder, his eyes truly seeing the two divine figures for the first time, "I... I''m a dargon?"


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur smiled gazing at him like a proud parent, her dress changing to the blushing pink of sunrise, dargons were her favorite, "Yes. Through your mother and her father before her, both you and your half sister are dargons." She reached out and gently touched his face, "Since your true nature is that of a dargon, that''s what you look like here. No one can hide their true nature in this place." She gazed lovingly at Morgunstjana, "Especially, not in front of the god of the sun, whose light reveals all truth."


    Stroz was having trouble processing what she said, "Half sister? Mary isn''t my full sister?" Stroz''s darconic face scrunched up and tears formed. All his life, his parents had been cruel to him. The one steady force in his family, was that he and his sister loved each other. Now that she wasn''t even his full sister¡­ What does that mean for us? Will she abandon me when she knows?


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur scooped him up into her arms, he was the size of a kitten to her, "I''m so sorry, Stroz. Your mother is a bit of a slut. The man you grew up with isn''t either of your father."


    Stroz sniffed, tucking his tail up over his belly and clutching it in his hands, "Is that why he didn''t want me? Why he¡­" he looked away for a moment, "¡­why he hit me?" The tip of his tail flicked back and forth under his chin, displaying his anxiety.


    "What?" Bl¨ªeur Vindur asked, "No, of course not, he''s a terrible person. He believes that you are both his. He is just spiteful and wicked." She considered how much to tell Strozazand; weighing it in her mind for a moment before continuing, "The man that you called your father blames everyone for his decisions but himself. He hates himself for desiring men instead of women. So, to hide from himself, he married a woman and then abused and scorned her because she was a constant reminder of how he felt like a failure." She smiled sadly, "The thing is, if he had just accepted himself, he would have saved himself a lot of trouble. It''s true there weren''t any men for him in Pode, but there are lots out in the rest of the world. He destroyed himself and everyone around him because he was selfish, frightened and angry. He would rather stay miserable than risk happiness."


    Strozazand wept in her arms for a long time. He had so much pain wrapped up in him. He had chained away his emotions so tightly on the mortal plane; he had accessed his emotions so little there. Here in the safety of her loving arms, it was as if a flood gate had opened and all the anguish was being washed away.


    After a while he came back to himself. He scrubbed at his eyes with his hands. If this were on the mortal plane, I would feel so embarrassed right now. He acknowledged, But here¡­ is this what freedom is? He was quiet for a time before he realized something, "You''ve been calling me Strozazand. I thought you would call me Tommy."


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur smiled, "I told you, only the truth of ones nature can be here. Your dargon name is Strozazand the Dargonman. I sent that to you in a dream. I was hoping that learning your true name would help to alleviate some of the pain of growing up the way you did."


    He smiled, "It did. I always knew it was more true than Tommy." He laughed, "Even if people did think I was crazy."


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur spoke gently, stroking his face like he was a small child, "That won''t be forever. One day, your name will be spoken with reverence."


    He grinned, "As fun as that sounds, I don''t know if I want reverence¡­" he trailed off, disappearing into thought, "Does Mary have a dargon name?"


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur nodded, "Yes, she does and I sent it to her too." She looked away for a moment, "Your sister is far more concerned about what people, especially people in authority, think about her than you are. She heard her true name and became afraid that she would be scorned for taking it up, of course, she would have been. She worries that she isn''t really a dargon at all. Her insistence on burying her true name has only made that fear grow inside her. When you experienced your parents rejection, you found a measure of solace with Ellen Masterpiece¡­ your sister¡­ she hungers so desperately for your parents'' approval. It could be a long time before she takes her name."


    They talked for a long time. He asked about his father, but only received vague answers. The two gods taught him how to fly in his dargon form, he had thought it would be instinctive, and it would have been if he didn''t have so many years of human clouding his dargon instincts. They taught him how to access his dargon magic and told him that he would have to practice relentlessly if he wanted to use it.


    "Magic is like a muscle. If you want to use it; you need to exercise it, practice with it, stretch it. Otherwise, it will be weak and you won''t be able to cast anything but the smallest magic." Morgunstjana said, instructing him.


    Strozazand nodded, Damn. I don''t really care for all this brainy work. At least I can ask Shandra for help. He opened his mouth to reply when he felt a tug on his soul, asking him if he wanted to return. "Looks like they are finally getting me back up." He waved cheerfully and disappeared.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur and Morgunstjana smiled at each other and looked into the pool, "What in the hells?" They exclaimed together.


    Before they could investigate what was going on, Alltaf V?xtur the goddess of nature suddenly appeared in their midst with a burst of myrtle and saffron sparkles. She had wide hips and full breasts, her nipples were barely concealed by the creeping vines that made up her n¨¦glig¨¦e. She had the same burnished bronze skin of her brother, but that was only resemblance they shared. Her hair was dark and sultry, with jade highlights gleaming through the darkness like ivy in shadow. She was all smiles and laughter, "One of my druids asked a boon and I granted it before I noticed that you two had tags on some of the people¡­" She registered the furious faces of Bl¨ªeur Vindur and Morgunstjana, "¡­what?"


    Morgunstjana ground his teeth, "We told them! We told them all they had to do was find and kill the orc chieftain and then a priest from Capita could resurrect Strozazand!" He growled, "So what happens? They ignore their time sensitive mission to do it in the worst way!"


    Alltaf V?xtur looked like she had been slapped. "Hey!" she pouted, "I thought I was helping you out¡­ don''t insult me."


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur waved Alltaf V?xtur to the mirror, "My dargon just woke up in a dwarf body after living his life in a human one."


    The nature goddess frowned. She liked growth, seeds coming back to life. She did not like being told she should have left something dead. "At least he''s back up?"


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur, goddess of weather, shook her head, "No. Actually, this way took longer, a week longer to accomplish and two weeks to get back to where they belong¡­ not to mention the orc chieftain is still alive."


    Alltaf V?xtur raised an immaculate eyebrow, "Brother, Bl¨ªeur Vindur, it isn''t like you two to get so involved in the lives of mortals. What do you care if an orc chieftain lives or dies?"


    Morgunstjana moved the focus from the travelers far to the north, to the southern end of the kingdom. He focused on the burnt out corpse of one of the outlying towns of Capita. He shifted the focus to a town currently under attack. The orcs were butchering the townsfolk. The sun baked roads had turned to mud under the weight of spilled blood.


    A mother used her body to shield her child from the bloody axe of an orc. The orc''s fuchsia skin would have been comical against the backdrop of blood and fire if the scene wasn''t so horrible. The heavy downward swing cleaved her spine in two. She fell forward onto the child, pinning it to the street. From the angle the gods were looking from, it wasn''t clear if the child was trampled to death under the feet of its'' mother''s murderer, or if it drowned in the rising tide of blood.


    Alltaf V?xtur recoiled in horror. "Just because mortals do terrible things, doesn''t mean I want to see it!" She flicked a hand at the pond they were looking into and the child was swallowed into the earth. A few miles outside of town the earth opened and the child crawled out, terror naked on its face. She glanced at the surprised faces of the other gods, "I don''t like interfering¡­ but¡­ it was a child¡­"


    Morgunstjana nodded in understanding, he liked to save children too, he added sadly, "You know the little one will just die of exposure in the open like that."


    The child''s clothes were soaked in its mother''s blood. Its blond hair was plastered to its face, framing its terror. The child clutched its knees and rocked back and forth, sobbing. Its tears washed rivulets of blood away.


    She shook her head, "Not so. I have one of my chosen in the area. I''ll have it come and get the small thing." Alltaf V?xtur''s eyes grew shiny with unshed tears, "Why didn''t those fools just they just finish what they started?" Under her breath she murmured, "All those children¡­" She wasn''t just the goddess of nature, her pantheon included new growth and children fell squarely into it.


    None of the gods could look away from the trembling small form until Alltaf V?xtur''s champion, a humanoid bee creature covered from head to toe in platemail, arrived and succeeded at convincing the child to come to "her". She was a noble bee, which meant she was a hermaphrodite, allowing her to breed with both a queen or worker bees. The armor had openings on the back to allow her wings to function without impunity. Her wings hung behind her like a cape.


    The gods could see the psionic energy swirling around the bee girl. Morgunstjana raised an eyebrow, "Is that natural?"


    Alltaf V?xtur nodded, "I went through a phase where I made a bunch of half-human-hybrids."


    The child finally allowed the bee to pick it up and carry it off. The deities sighed with relief and returned to their conversation.


    Morgunstjana scratched his chin, "They knew Stroz would be able to be resurrected at Capita. Maybe¡­ someone¡­ convinced them that it would take a long time to find the orcs? If they thought it would take a while they could have felt guilty for not going to help him¡­" He felt that explanation was a stretch.


    Alltaf V?xtur watched in silence for a long while before commenting again, "This is very clearly a complete mess, but why are you so concerned with this place that you both have champions in the thick of it?"


    A sense of fear crept up their legs, clutching their chests and leaving them momentarily paralyzed. "I believe" a voice like a thousand screams spoke, it was long and drawn out, "that I can answer that."


    The gods turned to face ¨®tti Framleieandi, Viarte of Fear. His body, normally cloaked in shadows and darkness, was exposed and it was the stuff of nightmares. It shifted with bone breaking sounds from pustulous to monstrous. If Morgunstjana and his ever present light hadn''t been there to chase away the darkness, they would only have seen shadows and heard the crunching, painful sounds of terrible things happening obscured by vile mist. But since darkness cannot stand against light, it was forced to flee, revealing his true nature. Clutched in one of his many talons were several adorable, fluffy cloud creatures, "I believe these are yours Bl¨ªeur Vindur."


    The viarte opened his claw and the little clouds fled back to their mistress, who scooped them up into her arms and began to sooth them. "It''s unexpected for you to be so bold that you would stop my messengers."


    The viarte tilted his head to the side, sound of broken bones accompanied his movement, "Is it? You are trying to foil my plan."


    Morgunstjana looked over to Alltaf V?xtur, "That''s why you hadn''t heard of the situation here¡­ we sent multiple messengers."


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur counted the clouds at her bosom, "Some of them are missing."


    A terrible smile stretched across his face, it was grotesquely large, "I couldn''t resist sampling a few¡­" Yes¡­ I don''t fear you or your power. What else have I done? How many got through at all?


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur pulled her little clouds closer. The little, fluffy clouds tucked themselves around her like chicks under their mother''s wing.


    "Why are you interfering with my plans?" ¨®tti Framleieandi''s body broke and bent in a thousand places. The grating sound of bones scraping against stone pierced the gods'' ears.


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur suppressed a wince at that wretched sound, she reached out a tendril of wind and softly touched the viarte''s twisted visage with a soothing breeze, "Because you are trying to destroy what we love, ¨®tti Framleieandi."


    Fangs stretched out from the viarte''s maw, growing larger and larger before twisting into tentacles that reached for the gods. "Oh please, you think too much of yourselves. I don''t want to destroy anything." Twelve hands reached out from his chest, thin, grotesque and hungry stretching to distressing lengths before sucked back into his body like noodles. "I just want to feed. I can hardly do that if I destroy your precious creations." A sickening laugh squelched from his maw, "After all¡­ the dead know no fear..."


    "Twisting our creation with fear does destroy it." The nature goddess grumbled, "At the very least it corrupts it."


    Crippled wings burst out of the viarte''s back, the wings beat a few times lifting ¨®tti Framleieandi off the crisp green grass, "and on that note, I''ll take my leave. Feel free to worry about what I''ll be doing away from your presences. Worry may not be as potent as fear, but divine worry is so much sweeter than a mortal''s fear." Secure in his perceived invincibility, the viarte faded out, leaving only his mocking laughter.


    The gods exchanged looks. Alltaf V?xtur flicked her hand and a wooden divan grew from the divine earth. She threw herself dramatically onto her couch. "Once the child is taken care of, I''m sending my champion to keep an eye on things. That viarte has devoured many others of his kind¡­ I don''t know if even the three of us have the power to stand against him."


    Bl¨ªeur Vindur nodded, "We can only hope we are able to gather more allies." She sent the pool back to the youths from Pode, "And hope these children do not give themselves over to the viarte."

 #21 Magic Necklaces and Dwarven Beards

    Strozazand fished short black mustache hairs out of his cowbra soup. His face was flushed red under his thick beard and mustache, two of the ¡°perks¡± he had gotten when he was reincarnated as a dwarf. The glow of the campfire only served to accentuate the harsh scowl carved into his face.


    When Stroz had been reincarnated by the magic spell that Paint the Horse, the Horse of Destiny had cast for Kegar, the natural dwarf had been shocked to see Stroz come back to life as a dwarf, with a full dwarven beard and mustache. It was as if the dwarven gods had taken pity on the dargonman and blessed him with a luscious hirsute body. Kegar was very jealous. It wasn¡¯t that Kegar¡¯s beard was in any way scraggly or sparse, but Stroz had clearly been blessed and Kegar didn¡¯t like it when blessings went to others.


    Unfortunately, everything seemed harder to Stroz. His mind wasn¡¯t used to such a short body, so he stumbled and tripped when he walked unless he was giving each step his undivided attention. They had passed through an orchard and when he had tried to reach a low hanging fruit, it had been so far out of his reach he couldn¡¯t even get it jumping like a fool. Now, he couldn¡¯t even eat his hard won dinner without the, to his mind, dwarven curse infiltrating his meal.


    Ellen watched his frustration and felt impotent. The reincarnation had brought him back as a different race and had made some of his memories hazy. He claimed, and Ellen had no reason to doubt him, that he didn¡¯t remember the keep with the troll at all. He had learned some things from the Divine realm, but even those memories had been foggy. Although, who knows if that is because the memories were made in the Divine realm or if the reincarnation effected them?


    Ellen surveyed the frustrated and angry youths that sat around the fire. Stroz¡¯s first words, ¡°Why is there a dog on my face?¡± Had upset Kegar, who felt like Stroz was insulting his heritage. Broden had laughed, which had upset Kegar further. This had meant that the near two weeks they had been walking since had been filled with barbed comments and threats.


    Ellen sighed, setting aside her empty bowl. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I told you guys a story. How about one?¡±


    Strozazand immediately perked up, ¡°Can you tell the one about the vampire cloak you made?¡±


    Kegar snorted, ¡°That¡¯s not real. She¡¯s just pulling your leg.¡±


    Shandra shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t see how it could be real; vampire skin turns to ash when the vampire dies.¡±


    Lizzy shook her head, ¡°Vampires have been extinct for hundreds of years. Even if she could have done it, there aren¡¯t any vampires to skin.¡± She plucked her lute, as if to remind them that she had studied these things and knew more than them.


    ¡°It is real!¡± Stroz insisted petulantly. He had asked a great deal of questions about that story; it was his favorite, so she had gone into far more detail with him than with the others. According to her, because she had skinned the vampire while it was alive the creature didn¡¯t turn to ash. There had been a number of strange rules she had to follow: she could only work on it under the starlight when the moon was dark, it had to be rubbed with humanoid blood every night without letting any light touch it, and she had to sew it with a needle made from the fang of the vampire she had skinned.


    Ellen waved a hand, dismissing their comments. ¡°No, no. I¡¯ll tell you about my exploits another time.¡± She poked the fire with a stick, ¡°No. This is a story from long ago and far to the south.¡±


    Strozazand settled his back against a wooden log. His wings had retreated into his back, once again simple tattoos. Mary picked up her blanket and joined Stroz at the log. The blanket started on her, but through the course of the story, it would migrate to cover them both. Even Katrina and Cole, who had been eating some distance away, came closer to the fire to hear the story.


    Ellen waited until everyone ¨C even those who pretended not to want to hear ¨C had settled down before she began. ¡°A long, long time ago, long before Capita had been built or the Northern Kingdom had broken off from the kingdom to the south. Long before even the dwarves of the northern mountains had left to make their homes in the Deep Mount; there was a kingdom a long way to the south of where we are now. It was further south than the river that separates our lands from Talasht¡¯s kingdom and it was east across the inland sea where the great kraken lives to destroy ships and the dreams of sea merchants.


    ¡°There was a city made of black glass. It was a city known throughout all the lands as one of great learning. Anything you could hope to divine from the universe could be sought out there¡­ for a price.


    ¡°For no magic is free and their city had a darker price than most. The founders of the city of black glass had enslaved a demon. Luckily, not one of the Viarte, or things would have gone far worse for them. Nor was it one of the demons that led one of the courts of hell, but the demon was strong all the same and demanded a steep price for its power.


    ¡°Any citizen mage in the entire city could cast magic endlessly it seemed, but few knew what their part in the demon¡¯s pact was. Every day the city had to sacrifice a virgin elf maiden to the demon so that he could drink her blood and feast on her soul.¡±


    Shandra interrupted, ¡°That¡¯s three hundred and sixty-five elf women a year. That¡¯s unsustainable. Elves don¡¯t reproduce fast enough for that.¡±


    ¡°They decimated the elf population which used to be much more prevalent.¡± Ellen glared at Shandra, before continuing the story, irritated about the interruption, ¡°This angered the elven nations to the north who quickly grew tired of their women and children being kidnapped and enslaved or sacrificed.


    ¡°But in the way of many nations, it wasn¡¯t until the elf king¡¯s newborn daughter was stolen that the elves mobilized in earnest. The elf king had, in all the time the black city had stood, never bothered to understand humans and their pride. So when his daughter was kidnapped he mounted an assault on the city to free her; but what he didn¡¯t understand was that the humans¡¯ desire to keep their city would make them sacrifice the elves they already had in droves. Long before the extricating elves penetrated the black glass walls of the city, the little princess¡¯ blood had been poured out on the altar for the demon to lap it up.


    ¡°The rage that burned through the elves for their children ¨C which are precious to them for they have so few ¨C doomed the city as soon as the attack began. Every mage in the city had been called to the walls to defend their livelihood from an attack they didn¡¯t understand. The people of the city didn¡¯t know their power was bought through the blood of elves and the masters of the city were not willing to enlighten them. So as far as the mages knew, the elves were monsters that were attacking for no reason. This is why the humans of the Northern Kingdom still hate all elves to this day.


    ¡°However, one mage didn¡¯t come to the walls. He was something of a recluse, so when the summons went out for him to join the defenders on the wall, he never acknowledged it. The mage, whose name has been lost in time, cared only for a friend of his. A courtesan. She was lovely; dusky skin, voluptuous hips and blessed in every physical aspect.


    ¡°But as beautiful as she was, she still had her problems. Her make up would run in the rain, when strong winds came it would tossle her hair unpleasantly, or when the men she was with became drunk and ran through the streets she would turn an ankle in her high heeled shoes. It was after one such ankle turning that she had told that mage about her frustrations. He spent weeks secluded away from the world crafting a beautiful necklace that would flatter her. He had a list of enchantments: one to keep her make up from smudging, one to tend to her hair, another to keep her clothes unrumpled and unsoiled, one to keep her perpetually clean and nice smelling, and lastly to prevent her ankles from spraining in heels.


    ¡°It was a silly trinket. Certainly one that would help the woman in her work¡­ but it was nothing of substance.¡± Ellen nodded at Shandra, ¡°But as Shandra knows, every enchantment placed upon an item serves to compound not only its value, but its cost. Just because the mage didn¡¯t have to pay the cost of the necklace, didn¡¯t mean the cost wasn¡¯t being paid. There was a great deal of magical energy being poured into that decadent trinket.


    ¡°The mage was unaware that the elves had defeated the wizards on the wall and were slaughtering everyone in the city. They were specifically looking for any wizards. So when they found his spire, wrapped in enchantments so no one could bother him in his great work, they thought they had found one of the leaders of the black glass city. They thought they had found one of the men responsible for the kidnapping of their beloved children, their princess. So they attacked his spire. Many of their elven warriors fell to the magical protections wreathed around his tower, but their anger drove them like wild beasts and they continued to throw themselves at his defenses until the final one buckled and fell.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°The mage wasn¡¯t even aware of the elves when they broke down the door to his work room. He wasn¡¯t even aware of them until one of them planted a long knife in between his ribs. His death disturbed the magical working and released all the power he had been gathering for the necklace. The entire city was leveled as the power burst forth.


    ¡°That¡¯s why the lands to the east of the kraken lake are largely desolate. Few people have returned to the lands cursed and ravaged by the release of the demonic energy.¡± Ellen finished her story.


    Stroz had fallen asleep curled in a ball, his head resting on his sister¡¯s lap, his beard tangled around one of his hands. Stroz always fell asleep during Ellen¡¯s stories and she didn¡¯t take it as an insult. He loved hearing them and always asked for them, but no matter how hard he tried, he always fell asleep at some point during the tale. He claimed that it meant it took five tellings of the story for him to not hear something new and while Ellen believed that was probably true, she didn¡¯t agree with his assessment that this was a good thing.


    Faute, needing to make a snide comment, answered the pleasant silence, ¡°What? No magical artifact for us to find on our journey?¡±


    Mary glared at Faute, ¡°There aren¡¯t magical items in all her stories.¡±


    Ellen chuckled, throwing off Faute¡¯s ire. ¡°Didn¡¯t I mention the necklace? When the spell was interrupted, it leveled the city but the jewelry was still completed. In fact, some say that the mage¡¯s death acted as a sacrifice and his soul was placed in the artifact itself.¡±


    Kegar shook his head emphatically, ¡°You made the whole thing up. None of it happened.¡±


    Even Lizzy was eyeing Ellen with skepticism. She normally enjoyed Ellen¡¯s tall tales, but she couldn¡¯t get over the plot holes. ¡°How could anyone know that story? Everyone who was there died and if they weren¡¯t directly there, then they wouldn¡¯t have known about the mage making the necklace!¡±


    Ellen shrugged, ¡°What can I say; knowledge has a habit of escaping from even the most guarded lips.¡±


    That was enough for most of them. Not only was her story improbable, if it were true, it would have been impossible for someone human to learn the truth without making a pact with a demon or using some other nefarious means of seeing the past. Ellen told wild stories, but at least they were fun.


    Ellen stretched, ¡°Well, if you won¡¯t believe my story then the least you can do is let me sleep through the night.¡±


    Katrina chuckled, ¡°So that was your game? Sure. I¡¯ll take first watch.¡± Katrina waited to see if anyone would protest. When no one did, she began walking around the perimeter. She kept her eyes looking away from the fire so that she wouldn¡¯t ruin her night vision.


    The night was long and the dark was thick. She sat listening to the sounds of insects chatting and the occasional pop of the fire. The story, that had seemed so improbable before seemed to become more likely as she turned it over in her mind.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t know how she could have known about the story¡­¡± She murmured to herself, an eye trained on the perfectly ordinary raccoon that was warily approaching the camp to see if their dinner could become his.


    She pulled out her knife, everyone with half a brain carried a knife even if they didn¡¯t use it much, and carefully began to run it against the whetstone honing its edge. She didn¡¯t make any unnecessary noise, but she didn¡¯t try to hide the sound either. The watch often used the long hours to tend to their more tedious needs.


    When it was time for second watch, Stroz stretched and stood up without being awoken. His beard, still entangled around his hand, was clearly frustrating him but he was keeping his swearing to a minimum in an attempt to not wake anyone.


    Katrina watched him as he made his way to her. It¡¯s odd to look him in the eyes when I¡¯m sitting down. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you with a beard before. It¡¯s weird.¡±


    Stroz¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°I don¡¯t care what dwarven culture says, I hate it. I want to cut it off!¡±


    That came as a bit of a surprise to Katrina. ¡°Then why don¡¯t you?¡±


    Stroz¡¯s frown disappeared in a flicker of confusion, ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t a dwarf now anymore than you were a human before. You¡¯ve always told us you were a dargon, so be a dargon. If you don¡¯t like the long beard, don¡¯t wear it.¡±


    Stroz smiled, pulled out his knife and cut off a huge swath of hair. After some careless hacking, his movements got slower and less sure until he finally stopped. ¡°Uh¡­ do you mind trimming it for me? I think I won¡¯t shear myself completely, just leave a bit, and I can¡¯t see it.¡±


    Katrina pulled out the knife she had only recently sharpened. ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d pick one way or another; it¡¯ll be harder to keep it at a specific length on the road.¡±


    Stroz nodded, ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he seemed to think about it for half a second, and ¡°I¡¯d still like to try out the short beard.¡±


    Katrina shrugged, What do I know? I don¡¯t have a beard and don¡¯t intend to collect one. ¡°Sure thing.¡±


    Stroz turned his face toward the fire so Katrina could see it clearly while she trimmed his beard to a manageable amount. Freshly groomed, his beard accented his jawbone nicely and made him look distinguished rather than the homeless mess he had looked like before. He rubbed his hand over his jaw, a slow smile spreading across his face. ¡°Kegar is going to be pissed.¡±


    Katrina¡¯s face blanched in the darkness. I don¡¯t need him any angrier with me. It was likely that he would murder her if she stood up to him again. Murder, as in kill his childhood friend. He had threatened to when she insisted on finishing their mission before resurrecting Stroz. It was hard for her to wrap her head around. He had said, in front of everyone, that he was the leader and if she disobeyed him it would be mutiny in war time and that he would have no choice but to exercise military justice.


    In fact, his exact words at that point were, ¡°If you don¡¯t obey me, you will be making me force K?ttur to kill you. How could you do that to K?ttur? He adores you.¡±


    She had reminded him that without her, Stroz¡¯s corpse would lie on the ground and no one would be able to pick him up. They would never bring him back¡­ but Kegar didn¡¯t care. He had wanted her obedience and the stupid horse had been prancing around, crowing about how it could bring Stroz back.


    It was of little surprise, given how guilt stricken people were, that they had gone with the option that didn¡¯t lead them into additional conflict. Mary had even praised Kegar¡¯s efforts for trying to resurrect Strozazand as soon as possible¡­ in spite of the fact that both Katrina and Cole had clearly laid out that Kegar¡¯s plan would mean that Strozazand would be dead and Katrina would have to carry him for an additional week.


    Katrina¡¯s thoughts went round and round in circles like a mouse caught in the bottom of a glass jar, finding no purchase on the slick walls. No way to process her friends¡¯ choices or the person that Kegar was turning out to be.


    She laid in her bedroll sleepless, worrying at the problem through Strozazand¡¯s watch, until exhaustion claimed her when Cole took third watch. Her sleep was not restful however. Nightmares of K?ttur crying while he gnawed her limbs mingled with dreams of Kegar mocking her as her friends fell into obedient step behind him.


    Perhaps, if she had been older or wiser the answers wouldn¡¯t have eluded her. But, perhaps not. After all, Ellen didn¡¯t seem to have any answers either and Ellen was the granddaughter of the courtesan in her story that night. Not that anyone in Pode knew or would have believed that if Ellen had told them. For a town that had the flotsam of the world constantly washing up on its shores, it was surprisingly unwilling to accept the histories people brought with them.

 #22 The Shadow of the Puzzle Box

    Strozazand jerked awake. His mind struggled with what had awoken him while his body wrestled with the sudden shock of morning air rushing around his body. His eyes shot open. Kegar had ripped away his blanket and was standing over him. The dwarf was shaking; the blood drained from his face, a look of pure horror stained his visage.


    ¡°Your beard! Your beautiful beard! Someone has defiled your race and cut your beard!¡±


    Broden looked up from his breakfast. A single, expressive eyebrow raised slowly in confusion before he shrugged and turned his body away from whatever travesty was about to happen. It didn¡¯t concern him and he didn¡¯t particularly care about the participants. He took another bite and smiled. Tasty.


    Stroz shivered in the dawn, ¡°It was in my way so I cut it. Now,¡± he motioned with one hand for his blanket, ¡°give me my blanket back, I have an hour more to sleep.¡± It was an exaggeration, but not by much judging from the light.


    Kegar held the blanket away from Stroz¡¯s reaching hand, ¡°You cut it¡­ on purpose?¡±


    Stroz sat up and stretched. ¡°I¡¯m no more a dwarf now then I was a human before. I¡¯m a dargon. Now give me my damn blanket.¡±


    Kegar¡¯s face twisted, ¡°You are a disgrace to dwarves everywhere!¡±


    Stroz shrugged, ¡°As long as I make a great dargon, that¡¯s fine.¡±


    Kegar glared at him. ¡°Dargons don¡¯t need blankets.¡± Then he dropped the blanket on the fire.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Stroz snatched his blanket and began trying to put out the embers, ¡°How would you know! You aren¡¯t a dargon!¡±


    ¡°Because, I¡¯m in charge! It¡¯s my job to know everything!¡± Kegar snapped back.


    Four crows sitting in one of the trees that encircled their camp cawed mockingly at him. He snarled a curse at them and turned away, as uncomfortable as he had been angry. It was weird to be angry at stupid birds. They made him feel tingly all over, but not in a good way. He glared at them.


    Faute blearily looked up from her breakfast. Something had disturbed her slumber the previous night. She had tossed and turned, waking multiple times during Stroz and Cole¡¯s watches. The irritating caw of the crows sounded like horrid snickering and drew her eyes up from the tasteless food. She squinted at them.


    Am I dreaming? She thought and rubbed her eyes.


    Unlike everyone else from Pode, when Faute looked at the crows, she didn¡¯t see black birds. At least, that isn¡¯t all she saw. The black birds were more like a mist than actual birds, but stranger still was at their core. The shadows of the birds surrounded very real, red demonic creatures. Their skin was smooth and hairless, their hands ended in sharp talons and they had three adorable, tiny horns protruding from their foreheads.


    Imps. She had seen them before around Pode. Shandra had summoned a few once for an experiment. It hadn¡¯t gone well for the small things. Shandra had been trying out new recipes for her healing potions; which the wizard then compelled the imps to drink. One of the creatures had melted from the inside out, another had exploded and the third had been tie dyed and changed genders.


    The imps seemed to be pointing at Stroz and laughing. She blushed at some of their wildly inappropriate gestures. It was her blush that gave her away to them. One of the imps saw her blush and turn away. In short hopping jumps that mimicked the crow it was pretending to be, the imp approached her.


    ¡°You can see us.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. It was spoken in a terrible language that both chilled her heart and felt like a homecoming.


    She heard him, understood him, in spite having never heard the language before and she also heard the echo of a crow cawing. No one else sees anything other than a curious crow. Her eyes widened then narrowed. A slow, arrogant smile spread across her face, No one else hears anything other than a crow cawing. I could reveal what they are and then everyone would know how they need me.


    The imp hoped from one foot to the other, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t turn us in will you? We¡¯ve been watching you and your friends for a while. They don¡¯t listen to you very much do they?¡±


    Faute frowned.


    ¡°Do you really think they¡¯ll hear us out? Do you think they will bother to know why we are here? They¡¯ll attack us for no reason just because we are imps. They don¡¯t care about anything other than our race.¡± He cocked his head to the side, ¡°Do you know how it feels to be hated because of your race?¡±


    Faute¡¯s face went red. She remembered her disgust, stupid human peasants. They should have been bowing to me, not throwing filth! She gave a slight nod.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell them. We don¡¯t mean any harm.¡± It crouched down.


    It¡¯s so small and pathetic. She nodded again.


    The imp seemed to believe that was enough. He hopped back to the other imps.


    Ellen frowned. She had come back from washing up to see Faute sitting with her food and a crow sitting very close cawing softly. It was odd. ¡°Thinking about turning into a druid, Faute?¡± She was tempted to reach out for Faute¡¯s mind¡­ But that isn¡¯t something I want to do lightly. Looking at crows isn¡¯t strange enough to warrant that invasion of privacy.


    Faute stiffened before tossing her long hair back over her shoulder, ¡°Don¡¯t judge things you don¡¯t understand. Human.¡±


    Ellen raised an eyebrow and leaned against a tree, ¡°Didn¡¯t realize I was judging anything. My mistake.¡±


    Faute blushed. It felt strange talking to Ellen that way. The older woman had never treated her as if she was lesser but¡­ she¡¯s a human and I¡¯m not. I know they all judge me for being an elf. She corrected herself, for being better. She went to get her horse ready to ride. She spent a frustratingly long time struggling with ties that she had tied too tight.


    Finos rode up on his pony. ¡°Do you need a knife?¡± He held out one of his knives. It was one of his favorites. Crocalyal carapace blade with a cowbra bone hilt carved to look like an elven maiden drawing steel.


    She reached for the knife before pulling back her hand. Disgust laced her words, ¡°Do you have anything that isn¡¯t pornographic?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not my pornographic knife.¡± He smirked and pulled out a second knife, ¡°This one is.¡± It was. This elven woman was no maiden, not in that position.


    Faute gasped and snatched the first knife. She struggled to cut the knots, but once she finished she turned back to Finos. She looked at the knife in her hand for a moment before turning and hurling it away. ¡°That¡¯s what you get you disgusting little hobbit!¡±


    Finos went pale, his eyes blurred. My¡­ my knife.


    ¡°What in the hells!¡± Cole yelled from the other end of camp, ¡°Whoever threw that knife almost hit me!¡±


    Finos rode toward Cole, ¡°You didn¡¯t happen to catch it did you?¡±


    Cole shook his head and brushed dirt and plant matter off his breastplate. ¡°No, I hit the dirt when I saw it. It was coming straight for my head.¡± He pointed behind him, ¡°It went in that direction. I can help you look.¡±


    The two began combing the undergrowth but in spite of the thorns and prickers they collected with their hands, they were unable to find the knife. Finos thought they should have been able to find it if they were looking in the right area. The handle is bone white after all.


    The group packed in sullen silence. The crows followed them. More specifically, the crows followed Strozazand. When the group paused to get their bearings, the crows would crowd into the tree nearest him and make a ruckus. It gave him chills and irritated the rest of the group who were largely already in terrible moods.


    At midday, they stopped for lunch in the burnt out remains of one of the southern towns. None of the Pode natives had ever been that far south before, Ellen was wisely keeping her mouth shut and Percival was being ignored by Kegar. Kegar discovered the town was called Southton, according to the broken sign.


    Stroz had smelled something for the last mile. It tickled his nose pleasantly and filled him with an eager, hungry feeling. He set his pack down by where Katrina and Mary were making lunch and set out into the town. Grateful the irritating crows had decided to not to follow him, he wandered through the town looking for survivers and whatever was making that wonderful smell.


    In what must have been the mayor¡¯s home, under the floor boards he found the body of a woman, perhaps nineteen or twenty. She was very pregnant. Two younglings were with her, maybe four or five. It was hard to tell given the state of decay. The stink was pungent.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°See their faces?¡± Ellen came up behind him.


    ¡°Yah?¡± Stroz wasn¡¯t looking at them at all, but rather, through them.


    ¡°They suffocated. Between the smoke and the collapsed building¡­ they ran out of air and died.¡±


    Stroz grunted in acknowledgement before stepping down into the hole.


    ¡°The worst part is that they¡¯ve been dead about five days. This was preventable. We could have prevented this.¡± Her eyes narrowed, ¡°What are you doing? Be careful moving them, their stomachs could burst.¡±


    Stroz froze. He had been about to lift one of the children out of the way. ¡°Erm.¡± He coughed awkwardly, ¡°How should we move them?¡±


    Ellen shook her head, ¡°We shouldn¡¯t. If we had time to bury them properly that would be one thing, but we can¡¯t. Every moment we spend with the dead is a moment we aren¡¯t saving the living.¡±


    Stroz chewed his bottom lip, ¡°Okay, but what if we had to move these bodies?¡±


    A frown pulled at Ellen¡¯s lips, ¡°It isn¡¯t right to move the dead if we aren¡¯t caring for them.¡±


    ¡°You sound like a cleric.¡± He straightened, ¡°I need to move them, you going to help or judge?¡±


    Ellen raised an eyebrow, ¡°I¡¯d help better if I knew why you were doing what you are.¡±


    He shrugged, ¡°I smell something.¡±


    She wrinkled her nose as she climbed into the hole with him, ¡°Me too.¡±


    A grim smile pulled at his lips, ¡°Funny. Not that. I smell something; I¡¯ve smelled it since before we got to town. I don¡¯t know what it is, but it¡¯s under them.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment.


    Together they lifted away the bodies. Under them was an iron chest. It was perfectly ordinary except for the lock which shimmered wondrously in his sight. He reached for it, but Ellen grabbed his wrist.


    She had seen his eyes glaze slightly and peeked into his mind to see the shimmery lock. ¡°Wait. What if it¡¯s trapped?¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t be trapped.¡± He gestured in the direction of the corpses they had stacked outside of the house, ¡°Their bodies were on it.¡±


    Ellen rolled her eyes.


    Seeing her expression he added, ¡°¡­unless the trap wouldn¡¯t go off until someone tried to open it?¡±


    ¡°Better.¡±


    ¡°Can you check it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but my forte is better suited to traps set in the wilderness, tracking through marshes or invading sentient creatures minds.¡± She didn¡¯t bother adding that it had been a century or two since she had needed to pick a lock.


    Stroz snickered, ¡°One of those things is not like the others.¡± He knew she wasn¡¯t lying. Some people in Pode didn¡¯t know and some people didn¡¯t believe she could muck about a person¡¯s mind. But Stroz knew. She had helped him out a time or two.


    She flashed him a winning smile, ¡°Why don¡¯t we ask Percival? He could use a break.¡±


    Stroz grimaced, ¡°No kidding.¡±


    Anyone with an ounce of humanity felt bad for Percival and the situation he was in. Kegar was getting more and more abusive towards the merchant¡¯s son. But what could they do? Ellen cared too much about Stroz and Katrina to disappear into the forest although the thought became more and more tempting every day. The Pode natives had extended families and any actions they took towards one another would have consequences.


    Lizzy was tuning her harp while Katrina and Mary made the midday meal. Cole and Finos fed the horse. Cole was trying to console the halfling about his lost dagger. It was going poorly. Shandra was reading a book while Broden napped nearby. His head rested on her foot. Kegar had wandered off for the gods knew what reason. Faute was telling Finos about how he wasn¡¯t tending her animals correctly and dictating how he should change his methods.


    Ellen waved Percival to follow her when Stroz exploded, ¡°Dirty thieving bastards!¡± He picked up a handful of rocks and began hurling them at the crows.


    The murder of crows had, using their cleaver beaks and talons, untied Stroz¡¯s pack and began taking things from it and strewing it about the ground. When he went to pick up his bag and stuff things back inside, he found that they had undone the stitching so the whole thing came apart.


    Faute turned up her nose at him, ¡°It serves you right for yelling at them!¡± As a warlock, she knew better to insult imps.


    ¡°They are filthy, stinking, stupid crows!¡± He yelled at them again before turning his ire on the half-breed, ¡°Why should I care in the slightest about how they feel?¡±


    She sniffed, ¡°They aren¡¯t called a murder for nothing.¡±


    Katrina snorted, ¡°Please, Faute. That¡¯s a bit dramatic, don¡¯t you think?¡± She looked over at Stroz, ¡°If they were Storm Crows, I could tell them to let you be. They must be a southern kind of crow. But don¡¯t worry, Kegar is a druid. He can ask them to leave you alone or at least find out why they are bothering you.¡± Her thoughts continued, And if they don¡¯t want to tell or leave you alone, he can compel them. He enjoys exerting his will over others.


    ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± Stroz said, picking up another rock.


    ¡°Stroz.¡± Katrina said, ¡°You may want to not retaliate. Crows may be animals, but they are smart. Let them be.¡±


    He ground his teeth, before biting of a single word, ¡°Fine.¡± He stalked off; careful to make sure the wicked birds didn¡¯t follow him. That¡¯s the last thing I need. Stupid birds.


    Katrina stole glances at the birds while she continued making lunch, Crows are smart¡­ but being vindictive for no reason? That¡¯s odd. She eyed the stones he had thrown, they hadn¡¯t come close. That was strange. Strozazand had an excellent arm. I suppose¡­ it could be another instance of his new dwarven body messing with his hand-eye coordination.


    Broden grabbed an extra pack, one that had been full of food which had been eaten, and started packing up Stroz¡¯s stuff. He didn¡¯t pack it well, but he shoved until everything fit. Then he used the pack as a pillow and continued his nap.


    When Stroz got back to the mayor¡¯s house, Percival and Ellen were sitting on some beams with the chest in front of them. The chest was unopened, but the lock was off.


    ¡°Welcome back.¡± Percival gestured, ¡°Someone wanted to keep that shut bad.¡±


    Ellen nodded a greeting at him, ¡°We waited for you to open it, since it was your find.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Today was a shit day. He needed a win. He knelt in front of the chest and opened it. Part of him expected an explosion or fire to shoot out. But no. There were no fireworks. Percival had done an excellent job taking care of any traps as well as picking the lock.


    There was money in the chest, a mixture of golds, silvers and coppers. Which Stroz¡­ well, he wasn¡¯t happy to split it with the other two, but he was willing to give them a share since they had helped him. There was a note book in a cramped hand. It was difficult to make out, but it seemed to be in the mayor¡¯s hand. Probably not important. Paperwork rarely was important. Finally, he was able to lift out what had smelled so interesting from so far away. It was a box.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Strozazand looked over the box. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Ellen held out her hand for the box. Stroz was loathe letting it go¡­ but this was Ellen. He handed it to her, his movements painfully slow. When he placed it in her hand, he took a while to let go.


    She looked it over carefully, ¡°It¡¯s a puzzle box. Whatever is inside, you¡¯ll have to solve the puzzle first. You may want to let Shandra take a look at it.¡± She glanced at his paling face, ¡°Or¡­ maybe not.¡±


    He snatched the box from her hand, ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out. Dargons are good problem solvers.¡±


    Percival and Ellen shared a worried look, ¡°Sure.¡± Perhaps helping him had been a bad thing. On the other hand, if they hadn¡¯t helped him, then they wouldn¡¯t know why he was acting strange.


    When the coins were near Stroz¡¯s nose, he noticed they gave off a very faint trace of the alluring smell but the box¡¯s scent was so much more compelling. The box¡¯s scent was so intoxicating; he almost didn¡¯t care about the coins at all. Almost. He was, after all, a dargon. Dargons loved having money in their horde. He had saved for years so that he could line the inside of his blanket with copper coins.

 #23 Resolution of Crows

    The group didn¡¯t stay long in Southton. After they finished gulping down their meal of hard cheese and some vegetables they had scavenged from the ruined gardens, they gathered up their things and went through the burnt out shell of the southern gate. The crows followed, their jeers echoing eerily.


    Ellen stepped out into the road and felt her boot sink up to her ankle. It hadn¡¯t rained recently; at least she didn¡¯t think so. There didn¡¯t seem to be clouds in sight, although storms could crop up at a moments notice. Why would it be so swampy? She reached over and touched Katrina¡¯s sleeve, ¡°Did it rain here recently?¡± The town was totally dry. Dry the way it was a hundred years ago when I passed through at this same time.


    Katrina breathed deep through her nose, ¡°No. It¡¯s been a few months since it last rained. Why do you ask?¡± She could smell rain on the wind, but it was coming as apposed to going.


    Ellen raised an eyebrow, ¡°Really? Your boots are caked in mud and you are asking me that question?¡±


    Katrina looked down at her boots in surprise. ¡°Hmm.¡± She began praying to the storm goddess. Small lightning bolts flickered along her hands like static electricity. Her hair stood on end and Ellen got a metal taste in her mouth. Unfortunately, Katrina¡¯s prayer was like a beacon for the coming storm, attracting it. Not that it wasn¡¯t already headed their way. Something else, something more sinister was drawing it toward them already.


    Percival rode up on his horse, ¡°This road is worse than when I came through with my father on our wagons.¡±


    Lizzy, who was riding in the front with Kegar, shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. ¡°Kegar, why are those crows still following us? Haven¡¯t they gotten bored yet?¡±


    Kegar glared up at the crows. K?ttur had been complaining about Paint since the dwarf had dominated the horse. Recently, he was making noises that the goddess would deny Kegar access to her gifts if he didn¡¯t release the horse. He hadn¡¯t believed K?ttur, but now he couldn¡¯t communicate with the crows. He had looked at them with his druidic magic and it had been like he was looking at magical creatures. There was simply nothing there. How dare she take away my power? It was outrageous to him. He didn¡¯t consider the possibility that they were magical in nature, or more precisely demonic in nature. He was too afraid that K?ttur¡¯s comment was becoming a reality. He couldn¡¯t tell anyone that he couldn¡¯t see them with his druidic sight. It hadn¡¯t occurred to him that he still saw the horses in his sight so it was likely that the crows weren¡¯t real.


    If I tell anyone, they¡¯ll want to know why she¡¯s taking away my powers. I¡¯d have to tell them about Paint¡­ and then they would want me to release the horse¡­ The horse was his and no one else¡¯s.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t doing anything. They¡¯ll get bored and fly away. If they start to be a problem I¡¯ll talk to them.¡± Kegar grumbled fussing with his reins.


    Lizzy shook her head, ¡°They are a problem. While we were stopped for lunch they took Stroz¡¯s pack apart.¡±


    Kegar waved a non-committal hand, ¡°All in good fun. Crows are like that. Just don¡¯t be mean to them and they¡¯ll play nice.¡±


    ¡°Stroz didn¡¯t do anything to them.¡± Lizzy said petulantly.


    While the others were shifting nervously, Broden sat silently, carving a new bone handle for Finos. That was a good knife. He thought to himself engrossed in his task. He was accustomed to ignoring the grandstanding bluster of his cousin.


    Leave it alone woman! Kegar was reaching for whatever he could so that he wouldn¡¯t have to send the crows away. ¡°Stroz thinks he¡¯s a dargon. They probably looked at his ¡®horde¡¯ wrong and he threw rocks at them and now they have a bone to pick with him.¡±


    I could see that happening. ¡°Did they tell you that?¡± Lizzy asked with genuine curiosity.


    Kegar almost lied, but Lizzy was looking at him with that earnest expression she got sometimes. ¡°No¡­¡± He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. Paint was very tall. Any horse was, he was after all a dwarf and they weren¡¯t particularly suited for horses. He would be better off on a pony, but there was no way he was riding on a pony when Percival was riding a horse next to Lizzy. Kegar believed strongly that leaders should be the most visible member of the group.


    ¡°Well, then,¡± Kegar¡¯s pigheaded insistence was irritating Lizzy, ¡°why can¡¯t you ask them what their problem is?¡±


    Kegar gritted his teeth, ¡°Because it isn¡¯t important.¡± His teeth creaked and his jaw hurt, ¡°I¡¯ll ask them when it¡¯s important.¡±


    Her face fell. ¡°I¡­ thought me asking kind of made it important.¡±


    ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t.¡± He barked, ¡°Just because you want something doesn¡¯t make it worth having. This isn¡¯t Pode anymore and not everyone is catering to your silly whims!¡±


    Lizzy had been sitting her horse like a competent horse woman: back straight and wrists relaxed. His final comment turned her spine to steel and her words fell from her lips like a pick, ¡°Be careful, Kegar of the Frozenpine, don¡¯t overstep your station. I am the heir of Sir Wilbur and stand to inherit Pode and the Northern Wastes. We are not married yet.¡± The word ¡°yet¡± hung in the air, declaring to all ears that if his behavior continued, they would never be married. She clucked her horse and rode forward with Percival and Strozazand at her left hand. Neither of them wanted to be left with the broody and moody dwarf.


    An awkward and uncomfortable silence pooled out from the lovers. Any conversations that had been going on had withered as Lizzy and Kegar¡¯s argument had been getting more and more heated. Now, like children attempting to avoid a beating from their father, everyone kept their heads down and tried not to be noticed. The rain that had been coming broke into a drizzle over them, hiding Lizzy¡¯s tears and fueling the fire of Kegar¡¯s ire. ¡°Katrina! Do something about this rain!¡±


    Katrina looked up into the sky. The clouds were hidden by an unpleasant mist, but due to her relationship with her deity, her eyes peered through the gloom. The clouds were pregnant with rain. The winds that had hurried them along so forcefully had dropped off. ¡°I can¡¯t. Something else brought the rain here.¡± I only helped it come. Ooops.


    ¡°What. Something?¡± Kegar snarled.


    With a mental sigh she continued. ¡°I don¡¯t actually know. Something powerful enough to rearrange the weather patterns, but when I look at them it seems to be naturally done. You should be able to see that yourself, actually, you might be able to get more information than I can.¡± She looked at him expectantly, but at his continued hard glare, she decided to go on. ¡°Uh¡­ It looks like a natural phenomenon, but it clearly isn¡¯t, no weather patterns would act this way if it were truly natural.¡± She looked around for assistance and found none being offered. ¡°Uh, Shandra, have you noticed anything with your magic?¡±


    Shandra looked up from her book, which sat in a special holder attached to the saddle, surprised to hear her name. ¡°Hmm?¡± An invisible shield floated above her like an umbrella protecting her book and curly hair. She lifted her hands and a red, flaming ball appeared between them. The flames rotated like they were water being swished around a bowl before turning black and being snuffed out. ¡°Yes.¡± She returned to her reading.


    Kegar¡¯s face was turning purple with rage.


    Katrina stepped in, ¡°So¡­ Shandra, what has your magic told you about the situation?¡±


    Shandra looked up from her book again, ¡°Oh, yes, it¡¯s quite simple really. A dargon moved in somewhere nearby, but not that close. If it were closer, it would have been transforming the landscape faster; it¡¯s really more an arcane process than a natural one. Based on the color the flames turned, I am reasonably certain there is either a black or obsidian dargon nearby. So everywhere near it is being teraformed into a swamp.¡±


    Katrina frowned, ¡°Why did it seem natural to me?¡±


    Shandra shrugged, ¡°I¡¯m not certain. Perhaps because your deity has a thing for dargons. Maybe because while their power is arcane, it works by changing the natural order of things, so it¡¯s ¡®technically¡¯¡± she made air quotes, ¡°a natural phenomenon, though it is caused by a magical source.¡±


    Percival leaned over to whisper to Stroz, ¡°Dargons cheat. Your people use magic to change the rules so what they do is natural.¡±


    Stroz nodded, his cloak was pulled over his shoulders and in front of his body, his hands were still working over the puzzle box. He was reasonably confident that the crows couldn¡¯t tell he was doing anything. ¡°Isn¡¯t it great? Wishing you were a dargon now, too?¡±


    Percival snickered. ¡°That¡¯s okay; I¡¯m enjoying being human today.¡±


    With the bad weather closing in, night came quickly. The only person not hampered by the poor weather was Katrina and she wasn¡¯t interested in calling any more attention to herself. Anyway, to her reasoning, there was no point in one person leading a whole group when the rest wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything if trouble arose.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Everyone pitched their tents. Something they had largely not bothered with before, but were now glad that they had brought along. Stroz took his a step further and, with the assistance of Percival, laid traps all around his tent. They were simple things that would make lots of noise if they were disturbed or slap the intruder painfully. The traps weren¡¯t particularly dangerous, just irritating and designed to wake Stroz if he was approached. Especially if irritating birds tried to go through his stuff.


    After a long and silent night, Mary woke Faute for the final watch. The warlock tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but Mary was tired and unwilling to take a double watch just because Faute was lazy. Mary kept poking Faute until fed up with it, she tore Faute¡¯s blanket off her.


    ¡°Get. Up.¡± She snarled through clenched teeth.


    Faute pouted as she sat up, ¡°You¡¯re so mean!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your watch. Get up. I¡¯m going to bed.¡± Mary stalked off toward her tent. She hated the middle watch. Just enough of a nap to be groggy, only to get your second wind before you have to sleep again.


    Faute huddled under a blanket, trying to escape the pervasive dampness. Her boots were soaked through their oil coating. Her clothes, designed more for appearance than function, were now failing at both jobs. She looked bedraggled and felt worse.


    One of the crows hopped over to her, ¡°Why don¡¯t you use your magic to warm yourself?¡±


    ¡°People said I shouldn¡¯t use it willy nilly.¡± She said, pulling her blanket closer. How am I going to dry this thing?


    ¡°Who told you that?¡± The crow spoke with such concern, it touched Faute.


    No one ever cares about my wellbeing. She thought back to Mary¡¯s selfish display when the freak woke her. ¡°The village cleric and Sir Wilbur. They said that the more I used it, the more I would be bound to the powers that gave it to me. I don¡¯t like the idea of being bound to anyone. I¡¯m my own person.¡±


    ¡°Of course you are! They were just trying to scare you off of it, because they are jealous. You have access to your magic because of your bloodline; you can¡¯t bind yourself any closer than blood. It¡¯s in your veins; it¡¯s already a part of you. Use your power and enjoy it. It was made to be used.¡± The crow told her exactly what she had always believed, what she wanted to believe. It made it very easy to agree with the imp¡¯s words.


    Faute smiled. Finally someone who really cares about me for me. ¡°Thank you!¡± She focused on her hand and a tiny pink flame burst into life. She felt a wonderful thrill of life and heat wash over her.


    While she and the lead crow discussed her power and what kind of interesting things she could do with it, the other two crows that had been tormenting Stroz descended on his tent. Goblins could have surrounded the camp and Faute wouldn¡¯t have noticed. Faute was enraptured by the imp¡¯s words. Each time they spoke a silk net was drawn tighter around her soul.


    When dawn spilled across the sky, it chased away the worst of the clouds, granting a small reprieve from the soggy weather. Ellen crawled out of her tent and stretched. She had missed the southern dawns. In Pode the weird and warped trees seemed to hold back the dawn with their strange, clawing branches. It¡¯s not the same as it is across the southern river¡­ but it¡¯s nice to be able to see the sun rising.


    She glanced over to Stroz¡¯s tent and saw his traps were gone. Did he already get up? His tent was up and seemed undisturbed. Maybe he had to rush off to the bathroom and so hasn¡¯t taken it down?


    She took down her tent, went through her morning ritual and then began to make breakfast, since Faute hadn¡¯t started anything. The girl barely kept the fire going through the end of her watch. What was she doing? The smell of cooking meat and vegetables began to rouse the camp. With that awakening came Stroz¡¯s swearing.


    He launched himself out of his tent in nothing but a pair of shorts that to the surprise and gratitude of everyone covered him. Red welts covered his chest and legs.


    Percival raised his head from his mug of spikbra, it was a stimulant made from ground spiken and cowbra bones. Boiling water was poured through the grounds and allowed to steep, leaching out the stimulant. It was seven times more powerful than what the people of Capita drank and about twenty times more foul. ¡°Hmm. Did you move those traps we set in your sleep?¡± He peered wearily at Stroz, ¡°None of the traps should have done that kind of damage. Especially not to a humanoid.¡±


    Scales gleamed through his skin; his dargon was perilously close to bursting forth, ¡°It was those damn crows!¡±


    Broden shook his head and staggered off to empty himself. Stroz was pretty fanatical about how wicked the crows were. It didn¡¯t make any sense to him. Birds were birds, generally ignorable.


    ¡°Crows couldn¡¯t do that,¡± Mary said, hearing only part of the conversation. She was tired and groggy, ¡°they¡¯re smart but they don¡¯t have thumbs.¡±


    Faute glanced at the crows that were cawing their laughter. Their imp forms waved at her, wiggling their thumbs. She snickered, unable to repress herself. ¡°Strozazand, they out smarted you. It¡¯s no big deal. Just accept it.¡±


    Stroz ground his teeth. He stalked over to the crows, ¡°I¡¯m tired of this. It ends now.¡± He took a deep breath and breathed fire on them. The crows cawed their distress and disappeared.


    Kegar leapt to his feet, ¡°That was uncalled for!¡± He, like everyone other than Faute, thought the birds had been charred to ash.


    Stroz smiled and rubbed one of the welts on his chest. ¡°That takes care of that. Nothing messes with a dargon and lives.¡± With those words uttered, he doubled over as something punched him in the crotch.


    ¡°Uh, Stroz?¡± Percival said, ¡°You okay?¡±


    ¡°Grf.¡± Stroz groaned as his head jerked backward, ¡°No! Something is hitting me!¡± Tiny, fist-shaped, red bruises blossomed on his skin.


    Percival drew six knives and rose to his feet. His mug of spikbra still in his other hand. ¡°I can¡¯t see anything! Where is it coming from?¡±


    Stroz span in a circle breathing a cone of frost. ¡°Everywhere!¡±


    Percival and Finos, who had been coming out of his own tent, leapt back. ¡°Hey, careful where you point that!¡±


    Katrina had an orb of lightning in her hand, ¡°Can anyone see anything?¡±


    Faute crossed her arms over her chest, ¡°They were just playing with him and he attacked them! He gets whatever they give him.¡±


    Kegar whipped around, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    She pointed at Strozazand, ¡°The imps. They didn¡¯t do anything deserving of what he did. He deserves this.¡±


    Lizzy gasped, ¡°Imps?¡± She turned on Kegar, ¡°You didn¡¯t even try!¡±


    Stroz was swinging wildly, ¡°This isn¡¯t really the time for pointing fi¡ª oof ¨Cfingers, can we just agree to help me?¡±


    Everyone stood around impotently, weapons drawn and at the ready but no target to attack. Faute just stood there, drinking her spikbra secure in the righteousness of her decision. Katrina tried to appeal to her better nature and Kegar tried to bully her, but Faute knew that Strozazand the Dargonman deserved what was coming to him. After all, the imps were the only people in the entire world who had ever tried to understand her, and they had told her so.


    Ellen tried to sense their presence with her psychic powers, but the imps were concealing themselves from her sight. She sent a secure comment to Stroz, They know about my powers¡­ somehow¡­ I can¡¯t sense them. The only person who can see them is Faute.


    ¡°Faute!¡± Stroz cried out, there was a sickening crack as one of his ribs broke, ¡°Please, call them off! Help me! I¡¯m sorry for attacking them¡­ your friends¡­ I didn¡¯t realize they were your friends.¡± His wings erupted from his back and covered him as he tried to protect his vital organs. Scales pushed their way through his skin, sending rivers of blood down his back, chest and thighs.


    Shandra began making a circle of protection around where the fight was happening. She couldn¡¯t see the demons, but if she could trap them inside and was undisturbed long enough, she could banish the demons back to the hells. Maybe in time to save Strozazand. It was a long ritual and he was being beaten to death in front of them.


    Katrina gave up on Faute. She looked at Stroz who was now lying in a pool of his own blood. ¡°Heal him!¡± She shouted at Cole who began praying to his god for healing. Normally, he had to lay hands on the person he was healing, but he couldn¡¯t touch Stroz because he would interfere with the spell Shandra was casting.


    If my goddess preserved his body with lightning, maybe he is immune to it? It was all she could do. She began raining electric bolts down on the area inside Shandra¡¯s circle. He wasn¡¯t. She stopped and tried to cast her own healing spells.


    Cole placed a hand on her shoulder, ¡°He¡¯s dead. The imps beat him to death.¡±


    The group, except for Shandra who was still performing the ritual, turned on Faute. ¡°How could you do that? You had the power to save him and you didn¡¯t! Why? He was your friend! He trusted you!¡±


    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have done it if he didn¡¯t deserve it.¡± Her self righteous stare was fading from her face as she watched her ¡°friends¡± continue to beat Stroz¡¯s dead body. The sound of bones snapping and organs bursting was making her green in the face. ¡°People who do evil things deserve what they get.¡±


    ¡°Evil!¡± Ellen yelled, ¡°He defended himself from demons and you call him evil? You let demons murder someone, Faute. Not just someone, but your friend.¡±


    The imps spoke to her from inside the circle, ¡°No, we are your friends! They never cared about you!¡± One of them sat on Stroz¡¯s back and systematically broke each bone in his wings.


    ¡°He never cared about me.¡± She flipped her hair, ¡°He was too busy being an imaginary dargon.¡±


    ¡°He has wings, Faute.¡± Kegar said, ¡°I think we¡¯ve moved past it being a figment of his imagination.¡±


    Shandra shouted something from where she was working on the circle. The circle shot fire thirty feet into the air and then disappeared. ¡°Well, that should take care of them.¡±


    Faute¡¯s face twisted with anger and horror, ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I sent them back to their home.¡± Shandra stood up and brushed baked mud off her knees ¡°Someone will have to summon them or a greater demon will have to send them before they can come back.¡±


    ¡°How could you?¡± Faute stood, pink flames wreathed her fingers. She took a menacing step forward.


    Kegar shook his head, ¡°Oh no, we aren¡¯t doing this right now.¡± He waved his hands and the grass grew up and wrapped around Faute, holding her in place and her mouth closed.


    Lizzy raised an eyebrow at him.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t see them to hold them in place.¡± And I didn¡¯t know it would work¡­


    The party turned away from Faute and looked at Stroz¡¯s body. ¡°When we go back to the city¡­ we can pay to have him resurrected¡­ his body won¡¯t keep long enough for us to find more herbs to reincarnate him.¡±


    Kegar shook his head, ¡°I picked extra herbs.¡± One of Stroz¡¯s broken wings collapsed awkwardly, ¡°There is no way I¡¯m carting that bloody broken mess for weeks. He¡¯ll stink.¡±


    Tears streaked down Mary¡¯s face. ¡°We can¡¯t leave him broken like that.¡±


    No one felt comfortable with Stroz¡¯s crumpled body. Kegar called Paint the Horse, the Horse of Destiny over to Stroz¡¯s body.


    ¡°Master¡± Paint whispered, ¡°I could see the imps. They were quite cruel, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Kegar glared at the horse, ¡°Just reincarnate him.¡± I¡¯ll need to talk to you about telling me things. It was one of the side effects of stripping the will from a creature. The creature could no longer take the initiative to inform Kegar, or pull him aside. Paint had seen the imps, but had no way of knowing that Kegar needed or wanted that information. Since the horse¡¯s directive had been to not offer any information in front of the others, Paint couldn¡¯t mention it until they had stepped away. He was essentially mute around the party unless asked a direct question.


    Paint nodded and took the offered herbs from Kegar. He placed them around Stroz¡¯s body and began a complicated dance. His hooves flashed around the body, narrowly missing it over and over again, until he reared with a scream and brought his front hooves down on Stroz¡¯s shoulders. There was a flash of green light and in the place of Stroz¡¯s corpse was a living, fluffy white bunny. Appropriately sized blue dargon wings rose up from the rabbits back. It looked equal parts uncomfortable and awkward.


    Kegar looked at the bunny. ¡°Damn. I forgot that could happen.¡±


    Bunny Strozazand twitched his adorable nose. Someone murmured, ¡°He¡¯s so fluffy and cute!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a dargon bunny!¡± Someone else laughed. There was an uncomfortable edge that flirted with hysteria. ¡°I wonder if he can still breathe fire like that?¡±


    Paint cocked his head at Kegar, ¡°I reminded you last time what the chances are. Reincarnation is quite chaotic and the chances of an¡­ odd¡­ return increase exponentially each time.¡±


    Kegar blanched.


    Mary stepped forward, ¡°We could hardly leave him like that. No one blames you Kegar. You did the right thing.¡± She knelt down, holding out her hand as if to encourage the bunny to come to her. However, before she could do more than outstretch her hand, a lightning bolt struck him, blinding everyone. Thunder ruptured the morning, like a powerful shout of disapproval, deafening them as well.

 #24 Trial of the Traitor

    Strozazand sat with his legs crossed at the center of the circle Shandra had drawn. He was naked. There was a cool breeze swirling playfully around him. It was a joke, or reminder, or sign, or something from the goddess. He was certain of that. Of what it meant¡­ well, he wasn¡¯t a cleric.


    The breeze tickled his skin. He could feel that his tattoo of wings had lifted out of his back. His wings were wings in truth now. The wings were folded up gracefully behind him. His skin was covered in a patchwork of small, azure scales. He could feel more pressing from under his skin.


    The only benefit to all these traumas ¨C I seem to get closer to becoming a dargon in my body. His joints were uniformly armored with scales; as was his spine, from the small of his back to his hairline.


    Like a man runs his tongue over his teeth after a hard fought brawl to check and see if they remain in his head, Stroz checked his memories. When he had been reincarnated as a bunny, the last thing he could remember was entering the burnt out town. After the lightning bolt that had restored him to his human body, he remembered everything; including his death and his time in the divine realm. The lightning bolt had not restored his lost memories from his previous reincarnation, unfortunately.


    He shivered and opened his eyes, ¡°Thanks for trying guys, but I don¡¯t like losing my memories and I don¡¯t want to be anything weird. If I die again,¡± Which seems unfortunately likely¡­ ¡°please don¡¯t reincarnate me.¡± A youthful grin spread across his face, ¡°Not saying don¡¯t get me back up.¡± He laughed, ¡°But the goddess of nature likes chance a little too much for my liking.¡±


    Kegar gritted his teeth, but let it slide. Stroz just died. He is in shock. More importantly, no one would tolerate Kegar trying to enforce discipline on Stroz after watching him die the way they had.


    Seeing Strozazand alive and well, the group turned their angry focus on the bound and gagged Faute. Fury gleamed in her eyes.


    Katrina murmured and touched a finger to one of Faute¡¯s ears.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± Lizzy asked.


    ¡°I deafened her.¡± Katrina said turning toward the group. ¡°I knew Kegar wouldn¡¯t want her to hear what we were discussing. After all, whatever our decision is, it would be cruel for her to hear us come to it.¡±


    Kegar narrowed his eyes at Katrina. Deafening Faute was the compassionate thing to do. Even if he had thought of it, he wouldn¡¯t have done it. Now that it was done, demanding she take it off would just make him look bad.


    ¡°Discuss what we are to do?¡± Mary¡¯s sharp voice lashed out, ¡°She basically murdered my brother and then she gloated. She has to die.¡±


    ¡°She disobeyed a direct order from me. I warned you all what would happen if you did that.¡± Kegar said. ¡°She must die.¡±


    Finos¡¯ face was pale and he looked ill. Tears pooled in his eyes. For reasons beyond anyone¡¯s comprehension, he loved her. But even he could find no reason, no justification for her to be spared. Everyone had been a witness to her betrayal.


    Percival checked his knives and arm crossbow. He wasn¡¯t going to get involved in this argument. If they let her live, for whatever stupid reason, then I¡¯ll just kill her in the night. Having someone willing to kill a friend that she had grown up with, to his mind, put Lady Elizabeth in mortal danger. There was no telling what imagined slight would give her the justification necessary to kill again. And there is no knowing how many herbs Kegar has. He had given the impression that he only had enough to raise Strozazand once¡­ but here we are.


    While the conversation, which was less an argument and more a slow meander toward assent, continued, a blood skinned, buxom devil approached Faute. Smooth obsidian horns that were inlaid with opal curled gracefully out from her forehead and disappeared into raven hair so long it brushed the earth. The devil was all curves and soft edges, even the points of her horns were hidden from view. Faute could tell from the way the devil was blurry at the edges that she was invisible. Jealousy filled Faute with a bitter hatred of the devil.


    Without my interference, the she-devil¡¯s satin voice snaked around Faute¡¯s thoughts, you will be executed for what you did today.


    Faute strained against her bonds, He got what he deserved!


    She held up an elegant hand, stifling the onslaught of panicked, self-exonerating drivel. Of course, I understand your reasons. Friends, family, these things are important and false friends should be punished.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    She nodded vigorously.


    I¡¯ll make you a deal. The she-devil pulled a pink, lace choker from her ample cleavage. If you help me, I¡¯ll save you. But if I give you an order, any order, you must obey.


    Faute¡¯s eyes narrowed suspiciously.


    You wear this choker and all my followers and allies will know to assist you, while all my enemies will know to fear you. However, if you disobey and break faith, the choker will turn into black hellstone and they will all know that you have displeased me and I have renounced my favor.


    Faute considered. She knew from her warlock powers that this creature in front of her was a devil and not a demon. She also knew that devils were like the fey, they couldn¡¯t lie, but they delighted in twisting the truth. Devils in particular were thrilled with making deals that would end in them getting a soul. It was curious that the devil wasn¡¯t gambling for her soul. But she said outright that I¡¯ll be executed if I don¡¯t make a deal¡­ which means it¡¯s a forgone ending. Whatever else happened, she didn¡¯t want to die. She nodded.


    The she-devil smiled and clipped the choker around Faute¡¯s neck. The lace bit into her skin like white-hot iron. She knew that if someone tried to remove it she would die painfully. A wave of gloriously blistering power rushed through her body. As the power reached her ears, she felt a faint popping sensation and she could hear again just in time to hear Shandra speak.


    Setting her book aside she asked, ¡°Are you sure we should be killing her? I mean, she does have that charm spell on her.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can you break it?¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you mention that earlier!¡±


    Percival stood behind Lizzy. This changes things¡­ If she didn¡¯t know what she was doing¡­ then¡­ This wasn¡¯t an outcome he had expected. I¡¯ll watch her. If she even looks for a second like she is putting Lizzy in danger, she¡¯s dead.


    Shandra was affronted, ¡°Of course I can break it! I didn¡¯t mention it because I thought you all knew.¡±


    A general outcry arose until Kegar quelled it, ¡°Just break it, Shandra.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Shandra crouched by Faute. Under her breath, but loud enough for the no longer deafened Faute to hear, she muttered, ¡°She¡¯s had the charm for nearly forever. I thought everyone knew about it.¡± I know that having a charm spell on you makes you more susceptible to suggestion¡­ but whatever this spell did it shouldn¡¯t have made her willing to do anything she didn¡¯t want to do. With a mental chuckle she added, unless someone had a charm on her to kill Strozazand since his birth. Of course, if she weren¡¯t already willing to do that, a simple charm would be hard pressed to make her kill someone. You can¡¯t charm a husband who loves his wife to kill her, but you can enchant him so he sees his wife as a monster and charm him to kill the monster. I wonder what the charm was on her for? Shandra¡¯s thoughts wandered jackknifing between why Faute was charmed, what the charm spell did, and what the semantics of a charm spell were.


    Faute¡¯s eyes widened. Who had charmed her? How had her parents not known? No. She amended. Mother had to know even if father hadn¡¯t. Mother and granny had special insight into all that mind-bender magic. They had to have known and mother told father everything. She knew then that when she got back to Pode, she would make her father pay for enchanting her against her will.


    Shandra¡¯s final word rang out and the charm on Faute broke. She felt something deep inside her shatter. There had been warmth in the way she viewed the world. Not like the way the sun heats a day in summer, but rather like a brazier heats a drafty hovel in the dead of winter. It had been artificial, but necessary for life. That was gone now. She didn¡¯t mourn it. Now, she saw clearly how artificial that warmth had been.


    The world came into a crystalline focus. The colors seemed to become muted, but it wasn¡¯t a change in the colors or how her eyes saw them, but rather how her mind processed them. She saw the world without empathy and without sympathy. These bastards think they can control me? She snarled inwardly.


    The she-devil whispered in her mind, Our deal stands. I want you to help them. Specifically, I want you to help Strozazand at all costs.


    Faute glowered at the she-devil.


    Don¡¯t be like that. A deal is a deal. You¡¯ll live for quite a while if you uphold your end. She turned away before casually saying; Try not to be such a bitch.


    Finos bent down and cut Faute¡¯s bonds. His hands were shaking so much he had to try three times before he could cut them. ¡°We broke the charm on you. It wasn¡¯t your fault that you killed Stroz, so everything is okay.¡±


    Faute stared at Finos blankly. I wonder why I never took advantage of how much he wants my approval.


    Finos turned to Katrina, ¡°I forgot! You deafened her. Quick! Take it off!¡±


    He waited for Katrina to try to lift her spell before repeating himself.


    Faute pasted a smile across her lips. ¡°Good. That¡¯s good.¡± She touched his shoulder for the barest of seconds before turning away from him. ¡°I¡¯m glad that¡¯s over!¡±


    Mary glowered at her. She wanted vengeance for Strozazand¡­ but he is alive now¡­ and she was charmed. She didn¡¯t know what she was doing. It isn¡¯t her fault. Mary swallowed her anger. I can¡¯t be angry with her about something she didn¡¯t have control over.


    Ellen hadn¡¯t been in town when the charm had been placed on Faute. She had been out tracking an ancient crocalyal that had been stealing sheef from the aquatic pens the town had set up. Neither had she been told about the charm after she had come back. She had never been one to talk about her psychic powers, so no one thought to tell her and she tried to keep her mind out of other¡¯s heads, unless she had cause to. Since the child Faute had almost never come into contact with Ellen, it had never come up.


    But Ellen did know about things that affected the mind. She had studied them under the tutelage of her mother for half a century. There is no way a charm could have made her have that reaction. Sure, the imps could have revealed something already in her¡­ but forced something not there? No. She had tried to say something about that, but Kegar had interrupted her so much it was impossible to speak. She stretched out her mind to try and brush Faute¡¯s surface thoughts. What she found was distressing.


    Somehow, Faute was blocking her. The untrained twenty-something was preventing the woman with four hundred years experience. This is bad. Something has to be helping her, boosting her powers¡­ Ellen shook her head. She loved Strozazand like a younger brother, but Faute was wrong. She needed to leave and leave soon. I¡¯ll help them finish this mission with the orc chieftain¡­ that will give me time to convince Strozazand to leave.

 A Charmed Life

    Lilly handed Faute to Chanceux. The pudgy, blond girl pulled on her father¡¯s mustache with a strength that was equal parts impressive and painful.


    Lilly looked at her daughter, ¡°Rose, I need to speak with you. Right now.¡±


    Rose knew better than to question her mother when the older woman used that tone. She laid aside her knitting, brushed some auburn hair from off her face and followed her mother out of the front room of the tavern and into her parent¡¯s bedroom. It was connected to the kitchen. Lilly didn¡¯t like anyone cooking in the tavern¡¯s kitchen but her. It was her domain.


    ¡°What is it mother?¡± Dread curled in the pit of Rose¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°Your daughter.¡± Lilly began without preamble. ¡°She is sick in the head.¡±


    Weakly Rose tried to defend her spawn, ¡°No¡­ she¡¯s just-¡°


    ¡°Rose,¡± her mother cut her off sharply, gray eyes narrowing, ¡°I have been guarding this town since I was ten years old. I have been a mind healer for more than forty years. I know there is something wrong with your daughter and so do you.¡±


    Rose couldn¡¯t look at her mother. Now that her mother knew, a floodgate of despair was released. ¡°Did you know I¡¯ve gotten pregnant three times since Faute was born?¡±


    Lilly was surprised by this turn in the conversation, ¡°I did not.¡±


    Rose nodded, ¡°The first time, I didn¡¯t even know I was pregnant. But she looked at me and said, ¡®Don¡¯t want a sister¡¯. I woke up in the night with terrible cramps and bled. I thought it was just a strange coincidence. The second time she said it, I knew I was pregnant, I was further along. But the cramps that followed, they were worse than the first time, but I felt the same emptiness inside me when it was over. I knew then what the first one was.¡± Tears sprang into her eyes, ¡°The third time¡­ my youngest daughter had grown old enough that I had connected with her mind, the way you said I had with you. The way I hadn¡¯t with Faute¡­¡± She choked back a sob, ¡°I felt her die¡­ but it was worse than that.¡±


    Lilly¡¯s eyes were blurry with tears, ¡°How could it be worse?¡±


    ¡°She was fighting Faute. For days, Violet was struggling to live. I¡­ I couldn¡¯t admit what was happening. How could I? How could I accept that one of my daughters was killing the others?¡± Her legs buckled and she sat on the bed, ¡°Now¡­ how can I stop her? She¡­ she still is my child.¡± I can¡¯t kill my daughter, no matter what she has done.


    But you let her murder Violet. Sorrow gripped her. Violet was your daughter too. Lilly¡¯s voice grew was hard. ¡°We have two options. The first and far better, is that we¡­ help Faute past the first gate. The second is that we attempt to mind heal her.¡± Regret and confusion welled up inside her, Why didn¡¯t you come to me? I could have taken care of Faute until Violet was born.


    Rose looked wearily up at her mother, ¡°I can¡¯t let you kill my daughter. Whatever it may cost me.¡± She hung her head, ¡°And¡­ and Sir Wilbur isn¡¯t here right now. He and Ellen are hunting the giant crocalyal that broke into the sheef pen. He is the only one that can execute someone and if we acted without his consent¡­ he may decide that he needs to execute us.¡±


    Sir Wilbur wasn¡¯t rash, by any means. But he didn¡¯t really understand what their line had been doing for the area surrounding Pode for generations. None of the townsfolk knew how they were being defended, and from what. If they acted and Sir Wilbur felt he had to reciprocate it would be disastrous for the town. The least of the town¡¯s worries would be the undead castle reanimating. Both Lilly and Rose felt the castle seeking a weakness in their shield at all times.


    Lilly¡¯s voice cracked for a moment before she was able to get herself under control. ¡°If we attempt to mind heal her, it may not do any good and rather a whole lot of ill.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± Lilly asked. ¡°If we do this, we are going to be putting a compulsion on her to value life. Something she currently sees no value in. Her mind will deal with this compulsion in one of two ways. In the best outcome she will integrate it into her psyche and grow from there. She can never be the shield of Pode that we are, but if she chooses this path, she could become its sword.


    ¡°However, more likely, given how long this has been going on and the choices she has made thus far, her subconscious mind will contest the compulsion at every turn. Her mind will cease to mature as her subconscious fights the compulsion instead of growing with it. This will leave her immature for her age with fully functioning powers.


    ¡°If she fights the coercion, her subconscious mind, fueled by her powers would constantly chew away at the strength of the compulsion. Keeping the compulsion in place will either draw power away from Pode¡¯s barrier or directly from our life forces. Even if she doesn¡¯t fight it, we will die before our time and the barrier with us. If she fights it, we will not live to see her grown and she will be like a wild cowbra; no conscience and all teeth.¡±


    Rose clenched her hands around her skirt, ¡°Such a choice is no choice at all. Killing her would be the death of me and the ending of our line. Our only chance is to try to heal her and hope that she lets herself be healed. I would sacrifice myself, you and Pode a thousand times for my daughter¡¯s life.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Lilly brushed a tear from her daughter¡¯s face, ¡°I understand love. Maybe once this is resolved you can have another child.¡±


    Rose nodded, but she knew there would be no more children. When Violet died, she had felt a searing pain inside her. Since then she had not had her monthlies. Faute was all she had and all she ever would have. ¡°When will we do it?¡±


    ¡°As soon as may be. She needs this in place so she doesn¡¯t hurt someone else¡¯s children.¡±


    It was something she hadn¡¯t considered. If she was caught harming someone else¡¯s child, I wouldn¡¯t be able to protect her. It wouldn¡¯t matter how young and inexperienced she is. ¡°Yes, yes. Let¡¯s take care of her now¡­ let¡¯s go out to the sheef pen. The shefherds are out hunting with Ellen and Sir Wilbur so there will be no one to disturb us.¡±


    Lilly laid a gentle hand on her daughter¡¯s shoulder, ¡°I¡¯ll collect what is needed. Gather up your daughter and meet me there.¡±


    Rose went back out into the tavern¡¯s big room and plucked Faute out of her father¡¯s lap. Chanceux looked at his wife gratefully, ¡°Thank you, I need to finish getting this piece carved-what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    She kissed him on the cheek, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it tonight.¡± She bounced Faute on her hip, ¡°Lilly, Faute and I are going to have some girl time together, yay!¡±


    Faute waved her chubby fists in the air, ¡°Yay!¡± She looked down at her father, ¡°No boys allowed! Only girls!¡±


    Chanceux smiled with a wince. For reasons beyond his comprehension, Faute had never called him her father. She loved to pull on his mustache, but when he tried to get her to say he was her daddy, she would say, ¡°No! You aren¡¯t daddy!¡± It was a losing battle for him. ¡°Have a good time girls.¡± He knew that his wife hadn¡¯t cheated on him, he had gotten a little bit of magic from his own mother, and he knew that Faute was his child. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t seem to matter to his offspring. She seemed to have been gifted with her mother¡¯s ability to see where you were hurting emotionally and cursed with his mother¡¯s willingness to cause pain. It was his curse too, but he actively chose against it at every turn.


    Rose carried her daughter out of the tavern. The tavern had been a staple of the town since before Lilly had been born. When Sir Wilbur had come to the small town, after being knighted in Capita, he had built the tavern to entice peddlers. He had then gifted the tavern to Lilly¡¯s mother, Heather; since he hadn¡¯t understood what their family did for the town and believed that everyone should be contributing.


    Since the tavern was a late addition to the town, it was not situated in the town square, but rather somewhat off the square. The forest was continually attempting to creep into the yard. Lilly was constantly cutting back the blanket of Kali Maw Flowers. The Kali Maw Flowers were indigenous to Pode¡¯s area. They looked and tasted like cauliflower that grew about a foot tall, with one central head and eight branches, four on either side. The incredible thing about them was that they were carnivorous, but not in any normal way, even normal for Pode, which everyone agreed was fairly unique.


    Kali Maw Flowers had a strange power that allowed them to rip the heart out of any living creature that came near them. It began by a strange chanting hum and ended with the creature¡¯s heart bursting from its chest as if the heart simply couldn¡¯t stand being encased in flesh any longer. This worked on anything that was child sized or smaller. It was a danger the town of Pode could not afford to cultivate, which was why they were constantly fight it. The benefit to them, however, was their pest control nature, any rodents or birds carrying seeds would be eaten, along with the seeds, which prevented any additional growth of the forest.


    Rose waved to the few people in the town square: Shannara was collecting more of the strange, dangerous and what could only be considered unpalatable foodstuffs. The woman had a gift for making things that would kill you not only taste delicious, but also fortify your strength. Momma Thompkins was speaking with the blacksmith, Rory, again. It seemed Rory always had to fix a plow or repair an axe for her.


    Past the square, the few shops, and Sir Wilbur¡¯s keep was the sheeffolds. Only one shefherd remained to care for the sheef still alive; a lad about ten years or so. He had a chisel out and was breaking off some of the coral that had grown up inside the pen.


    Lilly was already there, ¡°Here lad, why don¡¯t I do that? You go have a bit of a break for about an hour or so, hm?¡±


    The boy, in no hurry to do the back breaking work of clearing sheef slobber, handed over the chisel and ran off before she could change her mind. Sheef, a staple of Pode, were sheep that had mutated to incorporate coral into themselves. Their hooves were coral, their horns were coral and they spent much of their lives submerged to the neck in water. However, in a manner completely in discord with keeping themselves alive, they could not breathe water and if they were not watched carefully, would drown themselves; either by trying to drink and drowning, or trying to wet their coral horns, forgetting they couldn¡¯t breathe and drowning, or by forgetting to lift their heads to the surface while eating kelp and drowning.


    Sheef slobber solidified into hard, sharp coral. For this reason, a shefherd had to be on hand to wipe the slobber off the sheef¡¯s mouths; otherwise it would solidify and cut their sensitive mouths. Sheef did have a natural, symbiotic relationship with some fish, which would come and collect the saliva to build coral homes for themselves, but shefherds had to be careful because the water had to be level and still or the sheef would be pulled under by their own wool. Too many fish in the pond would create disturbances in the water, which killed the sheef. The sheef could also be startled by seeing the bright colored fish or being brushed by them as the fish swam past. Startled sheef tended to forget how to stand, or would occasionally faint.


    Lilly and Rose waded through the sheef; wiping dribble off their chins, pulling heads out of the water, and fluffing waterlogged wool. Once they had the sheef cared for, they set about preparing to mind heal Faute. The mind healing itself wasn¡¯t technically difficult; they just needed uninterrupted time and no one around to influence their thoughts. This was key, since they would have to take down their mental shields and open themselves up to Faute.


    Faute sat on the coral wall, dangling her legs into the sheef pen. She was kicking her legs gently, so that it stirred the water. Mother and grandmother sat on either side of her, each touching her hand. The two mind healers began sifting through the child¡¯s mind and found emptiness. The place in her mind where people care about the lives of others was simply absent. It hadn¡¯t been removed by some dark force, that would have left marks on the child¡¯s psyche, it simply had never developed.


    Lilly and Rose began using their power to build an artificial construct of compassion inside Faute¡¯s mind. It was during this attempt that they learned that Faute had inherited some of their power; it was just infected with the demonic taint from her father¡¯s bloodline. Faute¡¯s subconscious fought against them. For every two building blocks they put in, it tore one down. Finally, Rose devoted herself to holding Faute¡¯s power at bay while Lilly completed building the compassion construct.


    When it was completed, an exhausted Lilly said to her daughter, ¡°You will need to keep her away from wizards and sorcerers; they will think this is a charm spell and any do gooders among them will try to disable it.¡±


    Rose gulped air and nodded. Whatever magical power Shannara had would almost certainly be passed in some form to her daughter Shandra, Rose would do her best to keep Faute away from that family. Faute had already been expressing disdain for pure blooded humans, if it was a disgust that would keep her daughter safe, Rose would encourage it.


    Lilly and Rose¡¯s decision to exclude the lord of the land from this choice was unfortunate. Sir Wilbur had been an adventurer before coming to Pode and was familiar with curses, enchantments and magical boons. He even had a magical artifact or two that could have been used to boost their power. Had they spoke to Father Franklin, he could have preformed a ritual that would have placed the burden of magical drain on the town as a whole instead of them as individuals. After all, both Father Franklin and Sir Wilbur were firm believers that the people of the town were the responsibility of the town and that every child¡¯s life is precious.

 #25 - Wrestling Tor-cats and Blinding Gold

    Percival was having a hard time wrapping his mind around what had just occurred. Faute was looking at the group with a mix of anger and disgust on her face, which Percival felt was rather undeserved, especially given that she didn¡¯t know how close she had come to death.


    Where did she get that pink choker? He wondered, trying not to appear to be watching her. I would have sworn she hadn¡¯t had it just a second ago¡­ Articles of clothing appearing on her only made him more suspicious of her.


    Finos was practically dancing around her bubbling over about how wonderful it was that the charm spell had been broken. His pudgy body jiggled eagerly as he tried to convince himself that everything was over.


    Percival had been trying to stay out of it, but Faute had just murdered his friend and was even now showing no remorse, and so, he found himself snapping, ¡°Try at least looking sorry for killing Stroz, Faute.¡±


    She jerked her head as if she had been slapped. ¡°I¡ª¡° she cut herself off. With visible effort she replaced her anger with her usual self righteous arrogance. ¡°What happened with Strozazand was regrettable.¡± She brushed her arms off, as if she were flicking off Halfling germs, and stood up. ¡°Should we move along? Aren¡¯t we in the middle of a quest or something?¡±


    Kegar looked at Faute and blinked slowly. ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s been a weird day¡­¡± He looked up at the sky. Twilight was coming fast. ¡°No, it¡¯s almost night. We¡¯ll set up camp here.¡±


    There was an awkward shifting as the group looked at the place Stroz had been beaten to death. The blood still stained the ground. The circle of protection that Shandra had cast sizzled on the ground.


    With unspoken consent they moved the camp down the road until they were out of sight of the blood stain before setting up camp. Uncomfortable silences stretched as the party fractured and split around separate campfires.


    Percival watched Ellen pull Stroz aside and speak to him in fervent, hushed tones. I wish I knew what they were talking about. The sad thought crept through his mind. He felt such confused feelings around his friends from Pode.


    On the road, his father strongly discouraged him from building any friendships with anyone from the caravan. It had been that way as long as Percival could remember. Anytime he had begun to befriend a guard, he would find that that guard was let go at the next stop. His father had even sold any horses or mules he became attached to.


    Somehow, Pode was different. Maybe it was because his father regarded Pode with such contempt that the man simply could not believe Percival would form any attachments to the town. Or perhaps, it was that his father couldn¡¯t do anything about the situation. They were, forcibly, under contract from the king of the Northern Kingdom to collect taxes every year from Pode. A situation his father had not resisted because it gave him two primary benefits. Firstly, it gave him the benefit of being paid by the king to journey to Pode, a place where he could sell all his excess worthless crap to the backwater idiots who didn¡¯t know or understand how useless what he sold was. Secondly, it gave him a token from the king. Should anyone try to claim they were being swindled¡­ well that cleared things up quickly.


    Just before Breeding Season, Percival and his father would journey to Pode without the escort they kept during the trade season. They always made certain to come before the start of Breeding Season, if they were late, then it wouldn¡¯t matter how many guards they had, they would be killed. Breeding Season was dangerous anywhere in Eyjan, but Pode¡¯s Breeding Season made the rest of Eyjan seem like a holiday.


    No one would ever be so strapped for coppers that they would be willing to spend Breeding Season there. Excluding Percival¡¯s father, who missed his vocation as a priest of the god of wealth.


    It was the only time the whole year that Percival was allowed to play. His father¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t constantly watching him. This, Percival supposed, was ironic given that Pode was actually the most dangerous place they went to.


    The Southern Plains in the Northern Kingdom had bands of orcs and lizardmen, but the basic fauna of Pode was both far harder to kill and better suited to kill humans. It was a wonder the people of Pode lived to their majority.


    It was also why Percival had paid buckets of coins into the hands of masters around the Eyjan for martial training. He had realized quickly that every single person in that backwater town was super human, for him to keep up with his fellow youths in any form, he would need special training.


    He felt like he was constantly struggling to keep up with the Podians. They were always bigger, stronger, faster and more magically gifted than he was. Finos never studied locks, he just began unlocking them when he was a tiny, chubby baby. Percival had spent years under the heavy hand of his father learning all the different kinds of locks and traps in Eyjan. He had to, if he was going to be keeping his strong boxes safe, he needed to know how thieves would get into them.


    Percival stretched his arms and shoulders, loosening them and bringing him back to the present. Thinking about how deficient he was compared to his companions tensed him up. After all, how was he supposed to defend Lizzy if he was the weakest person there? No point dwelling on it! Be vigilant!


    His eyes flicked around the camp, taking in how everyone had broken into small groups. Distrusting whispers clung to the area like a miserable fog. Percival rarely felt like an outsider, but he did now. He would give anything to have a reason to leave the awkwardness of the camp.


    A shiver went up Percival¡¯s spine as he felt the wind change. The wind had been blowing their scent west. The wind had turned and was blowing their scent east now. With the change came another scent on the wind. It was the cloyingly sweet smell that the creatures of the Southern Plains exuded in the breeding season.


    Percival made sure a bolt was in his hand crossbow as he crept out of the camp. He slinked through the tall grass coming up behind a male tor-cat. The beast¡¯s tail, which was as wide as his chest, twitched in excitement. The creature, even crouched, towered over the grass it was trying to blend in with.


    The tor-cat, in spite of its great size, was normally benign. They hunted the plentiful bison and pronghorn deer, occasionally stealing cows or horses from pens, picking one or two up in their huge maws and carrying them off. However, this was a rare occurrence because they seemed to be supernaturally terrified of humans. At least, anytime but Breeding Season they were.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    During Breeding Season they became remorseless killers. They slaughtered everything they came across; attempting to fatten themselves up before they caught a mate and exhausted themselves in their mating. If they didn¡¯t have enough fat stored up they would die of starvation before the breeding was finished.


    The tor-cat had blood soaking its maw and front paws. Clearly, it had recently been successful in hunting. Judging from the strip of blue cloth caught in its teeth, it had caught some refugees fleeing one of the burnt out towns the orcs had sacked.


    That sealed it for Percival. Any hope he had of chasing off the tor-cat ended there. As a human killer, he couldn¡¯t let it live. He, quietly, placed a second bolt between his teeth before taking aim carefully with his crossbow and shooting. The pronged barb took the tor-cat in the eye, but it must have caught his scent because it turned slightly just before he fired.


    Instead of piercing the eye and striking the brain, the bolt struck the orbital bone and lodged itself there. The cat roared its pain and leapt toward him; swiping a paw, easily bigger than his head, at his chest.


    Percival dove to the right, evading the mighty paw, before springing up and in a quick motion loaded the bolt he had gripped between his teeth. He had to dodge multiple times before he found another good shot to take the beast down, but even as he fired, he knew this one would hit the orbital bone as well. He could have drawn his knives and cut the big cat to ribbons, of course, but that would have been a waste. Tor-cat pelts were very valuable, especially when hunted in Breeding Season since they were more lush and full at that time. During the Breeding Season there were bioluminescents in their fur that glowed especially bright under the light of the full moon. Anyone who was anyone wanted a pelt.


    Percival¡¯s father¡¯s blood was too strong in him to let that money slip through his fingers. Anyway, the tor-cat was nothing compared to the beasts around Pode. He could afford to wait for the cat to give him the right shot.


    Although all that roaring will probably draw someone¡¯s attention. He didn¡¯t want that. He wanted the prize for himself.


    The tor-cat lunged at him again. This time, instead of dodging the mighty paw, he ducked under the swipe, bending backwards. As the paw passed over him, he grabbed the long fur and pulled himself on top of the cat¡¯s leg, running up the leg onto the cat¡¯s shoulders.


    The tor-cat was momentarily confused. It was so full of Breeding Season¡¯s nonsense that it was difficult for the tor-cat to process this type of absurd maneuver. Percival capitalized on the cat¡¯s confusion by drawing a long blade from his boot and stuffing it through the tor-cat¡¯s good eye and into its brain.


    The tor-cat shuddered and collapsed to the ground. Percival gave his blade a hard twist to the left and then to the right before dismounting. It pays to be careful. He thought to himself, remembering how one of his father¡¯s guards had his back broken by a tor-cat¡¯s death throws.


    His right arm was covered in brain matter up past his elbow. He muttered to himself, flicking some fluids away, ¡°It¡¯s going to take forever to clean my crossbow¡­¡± The bow would definitely not fire correctly with bits of flesh stuck in it.


    He cleaned his knife off in the tall grass before starting the tedious task of skinning the tor-cat. The sun would be long gone before he finished. It was irresponsible of him to leave Lizzy so long. Yes, killing the tor-cat was needful, but skinning it? That was being derelict of his duties.


    But¡­ he couldn¡¯t leave the pelt.


    Ellen stepped into the clearing the flailing cat had made. The tor-cat¡¯s guts had been spilled onto the dirt. She wrinkled her nose. ¡°I smelled the blood and thought I¡¯d take a look.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear the roar?¡±


    She shook her head, ¡°Of course I did, but it¡¯s Breeding Season. Tor-cat¡¯s attack anything that moves and sometimes things that don¡¯t. I figured it was just trying to take down a herd of bison or something.¡± She pulled a thin skinning knife out of a sheath she had on her thigh and handed it to Percival. ¡°When I smelled the blood I realized you weren¡¯t in camp and decided to take a look.¡±


    Percival nodded his thanks as he took the knife. The skinning knife was able to separate the skin from the flesh much faster and cleaner than his knife. Which made sense; it was designed to do that.


    ¡°That was nicely done, killing it without damaging the hide.¡± She watched him a little longer before adding, ¡°You know, those organs are worth money.¡±


    Percival paused and looked up, ¡°Really?¡± I¡¯ve never heard of anyone using tor-cat organs. A frown crinkled his brow, I know the meat is prized for its rarity and strong flavor, but we can¡¯t preserve this much meat, can we?


    Ellen came over and crouched next to him, pointing out what was worth what. ¡°See those glands at the base of his tail? They release a powerful stench, much like a skunk, but if you can cut those off without damaging them an alchemist would pay a gold for one, two for both of them.¡± She paused and glanced at him, ¡°Shandra would certainly owe you a favor if you gave them to her.


    She pointed at the stomach that was laying in the dirt, ¡°Again, an alchemist would pay coins for the stomach acid and a tailor would pay for the stomach. They could make a water flask out of the stomach, or use it to hold certain potions.¡±


    Percival was shocked by how much money could be made from the internal organs. As he counted up each organ she listed, he realized the insides of the tor-cat were actually worth more than the pelt.


    ¡°It¡¯s a pity you had to ruin the eyes. Tor-cat eyes are worth more than everything else combined.¡±


    Percival barked out a laugh, ¡°What? No they aren¡¯t, you¡¯re pulling my purse strings.¡±


    Ellen shook her head, ¡°No, seriously. Tor-cat eyes are one of the ingredients in a potion that temporarily grants you the powers of an oracle for the god closest to you.¡± She began listing the ingredients on her fingers, ¡°You need the eyes of a plains tor-cat, the tongue of a southern forest owl, and the ears of the eastern desert fox. The potion is hard to make because the ingredients are rare and temperamental.¡± She shrugged in his direction, ¡°As you know, rare means expensive.¡±


    Percival¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°How in the hells do you kill it without ruining the eyes or the pelt or the organs?¡±


    Ellen raised an eyebrow, ¡°Uh, I always stuff a dagger through the roof of its mouth into the brain that way.¡±


    Percival felt his eyes bug out, ¡°How do you do that?¡± Then added, ¡°You¡¯ve done that?¡±


    Ellen nodded, ¡°Well, sure. Twice for my mother and a few other times¡­¡± she trailed off, ¡°Anyway, sure, yeah. You just grab the beard on its chin, pull its mouth open and stuff the dagger up. When it tries to bite on your arm, it will push the blade into its brain. Oh, and make sure you use a blade at least a foot and a half long, otherwise you¡¯ll just piss it off.¡±


    ¡°You sound like you are speaking from experience.¡±


    She shrugged, ¡°One time I grabbed the wrong knife, rookie mistake. I looked like an idiot with its jaw clamped around my arm. It tried to shake me and break my arm; you know how cats shake their prey to break their spine or neck? Like that. If I hadn¡¯t been wearing sheef clothes, it would have been a bad day for me. As it was, it was just embarrassing.¡±


    Percival sat back on his heels, ¡°Sheef clothes? Sheef wool isn¡¯t that tough. Sure, you can make it water resistant, or super absorbent, but that¡¯s what it¡¯s good for.¡±


    She patted him on the head, ¡°You have a lot to learn.¡± She chuckled, ¡°I discovered that if you process sheef wool with cowbra piss, it has to be wild cowbra piss, it does something to the fabric so that the cloth is stronger than even crocalyal hide armor.¡±


    He glanced at her crocalyal hide armor, ¡°Why wear the armor then?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s simple really. Sheef wool is great, but crocalyal is still better for repelling arrows. In sheef wool, if I got hit with an arrow it would be like being punched by Broden. A punch that powerful could still break a rib. In crocalyal armor, getting hit with an arrow is more like getting a stern glare from Faute, it might make you feel bad, but that¡¯s about it.¡±


    Percival knew the people that lived in Pode were something special, but this was insane to him. What she described would be certain death to a normal human. But I guess the people of Pode are far from normal. ¡°Well, as much as it pains me to leave all this money on the ground, I don¡¯t have anything that could stop this stuff from rotting before we go back to Capita.¡±


    Ellen stood up, ¡°Let me ask Stroz if he has something. I¡¯d bet one of those tor-cat claws that he does.¡±


    If she is betting, it¡¯s because she already knows he has something. Percival smiled, ¡°No deal. But¡­ I tell you what. I¡¯ve heard about some of the things you¡¯ve crafted. If you make a cloak out of the tor-cat pelt, I¡¯ll split the profits with you, thirty-seventy.¡±


    She laughed, ¡°Fifty-fifty and you have a deal.¡±


    His grin stretched wider, ¡°Deal. But I want you to make me something special out of the teeth.¡± He didn¡¯t know what she would make, but everything she crafted seemed to have some kind of magic effect. It would be worth it.


    She considered his offer for half a second, before stretching out a clean hand to his blood soaked one, ¡°You have yourself a deal.¡±

 #26 - The Orc Patrol

    Ellen hadn¡¯t been pulling Percival¡¯s purse strings when she said how much money a tor-cat was worth. Everything about the giant feline was worth silvers and golds. She knew she could have waited for him to finish skinning the cat and then come back and gathered up the leavings, but that would have been foolish.


    He could have damaged things, not realizing they were valuable. Not to mention that if she had waited some of the more delicate organs would most likely go rancid; which would have been a true shame.


    Anyway, she liked him after a fashion. She was willing to split her cut with Stroz. Well¡­ not split, per say, but she promised him a crafted item if he lent her his bag.


    Percival had only asked for one cloak out of the fur, but she thought she could probably make three full sized cloaks and perhaps one for something Finos¡¯ size as well. Or she could make Percival the cloak he requested and a new bedroll for Stroz, since those imps took his last one apart.


    She smiled. The kid needed a new bedroll. The first task was to tan the hide, something none of her companions would enjoy. The stink alone was terrible.


    Her smile dropped into a frown. I can¡¯t tan the hide while we are trying to sneak up on orcs. They aren¡¯t particularly smart, but that doesn¡¯t make them stupid. They¡¯ll smell us from a mile away. It was unfortunate, but she would still be able to begin working on Percival¡¯s necklace, so it wasn¡¯t all bad.


    Ellen sat on her bedroll and pulled out a set of tools wrapped in sheef wool that had been carded until it was so fine it felt like silk. Not that she had ever owned silk. Her grandmother said she had owned many silk dresses, but after her homecity had exploded all the silk worms had mutated and began to spit acid; silk had become even rarer than it had previously been.


    I think¡­ I¡¯ll make a free spinning design inside an outer latticework. It was very difficult. First she would have to carve the latticework onto the surface of the fang, and then she would have to use her tools to separate the inside of the fang from the first layer of intricate work. Given the size of the fang, she imagined that she could probably put in a few layers of free floating lattice before putting the spinning bead in motion.


    It took Ellen five nights and four days in the saddle to finish the fang, a night and a day to make the setting and the following morning to make the neck tong.


    When the piece was completed she looked at it with a smile. A completed work always made her happy. The fang was warm in her hand and seemed to hum with a pleasant murmur.


    ¡°Is that mine?¡± Percival walked up behind her.


    ¡°Yep.¡± She handed it over readily. Her projects were only interesting until they were finished. When she was younger she would just throw them out or leave them behind. Her mother had saved many of them and then taken Ellen with her when she sold them so that Ellen understood how valuable her creations were.


    Percival placed the necklace around his neck. ¡°It¡¯s warm. Is it supposed to be like that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably just warm because I was holding it. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ okay.¡± He held it up so he could look at the intricate design. ¡°Whoa! How did you get that bead inside?¡± He tilted it to one side and then the other, ¡°How do you have so many layers spinning inside? Are they connected? They don¡¯t look connected, but they aren¡¯t rattling against one another.¡±


    Ellen chuckled lightly, ¡°The bead is part of the fang, I didn¡¯t put it there, it was already there. As for the rest, it isn¡¯t connected, it should spin freely, but I¡¯m not going to tell you. It¡¯s a trade secret.¡±


    ¡°Whoa. This is pretty cool.¡± He tucked it into his tunic so it wouldn¡¯t be damaged. It looked very delicate.


    As he was fiddling with his new accessory, Ellen gripped his shoulder, ¡°Do you hear that?¡±


    Percival strained his ears and looked in the direction she gestured toward. Many people who had not been to the great plains of the Northern Kingdom were under the mistaken impression that because the area was plains, that meant you could see everything that happened there. This was not the actuality of the area. Things were not as transparent as that.


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    Though the grasslands stretched on for miles, the grasses themselves were a range of sizes. In some places they were quite tall. They would have to be, after all, tor-cats did hide in the plains. There were also gentle slopes. It was nothing even remotely similar to the hills of the south, but it did mean that a man surveying the plains would get the impression that he was seeing far more than he actually was.


    Had Ellen been alerting anyone else to the sound, they would have been confused. The group was generally aware of the height of the grasses; after all they were traveling through them, but had yet to experience the slopes. Percival however, was quite experienced with this land.


    ¡°There is movement.¡± He strained his eyes, ¡°I-I believe it could be a patrol of orcs.¡± Percival glanced toward Lizzy. Would the best thing be to stand by her side in case we come upon them? Or to deal with them before they have a chance to endanger her?


    Ellen called up to Kegar, ¡°I think I saw something, but it¡¯s likely nothing. Percival and I are going to check it out.¡±


    Kegar didn¡¯t even look up from his argument with Lizzy. It seemed that every day they would have quiet arguments that tensed everyone up.


    Percival and Ellen handed the reigns of their mounts off to others before slipping into the grasses.


    ¡°How far do you think that is?¡±


    ¡°It could be quite far. It¡¯s hard to judge distances, but the movement was subtle.¡±


    ¡°Why did you think it was a patrol? It could easily be a herd of kreas or bison.¡± Kreas looked like feathered bison, they had beaks and horns but were gentle and hard to rile up.


    ¡°No. I saw the glint of metal. It may not be orcs, but it is definitely humanoid.¡±


    Soon the familiar chinking sound of chainmail caught their attention. These orcs were in heavier gear than the orcs they had found before on the crossroads. Those had been outfitted for stealth and these couldn¡¯t care less. Those orcs were speaking in their own language; to Percival¡¯s understanding, he could only assume they were telling fart jokes as they marched. They laughed and took turns speaking their gobbledygook of a language before making a farting sound, either with their lips or with their arms or hands.


    It was undoubtedly stupid, however it gave Percival pause. These were a group of friends, laughing and having fun together. It was something beautiful to him, something he had always longed for. Camaraderie.


    That thought hung over him like a dark cloud as he pulled some caltrops out of his pouch and scattered them in front of Ellen and himself. When the orcs charged, they would be in for a terrible surprise.


    He leveled his hand crossbow at a pale blue orc who was in the back of the group. Ellen gestured that she would take the yellow orc, or at least, that¡¯s what Percival hoped she was trying to indicate. He resolved to begin learning Broden¡¯s hand language. Having a universal hand language, something like the common tongue, would make these kind of covert missions much easier.


    However, there was nothing to be done then. Percival counted down from three with his fingers so Ellen could see and then fired. His bolt pierced the blue orc¡¯s back just as her arrow pierced the back of the yellow orc.


    There was no time to catch the falling orcs, nor to prevent them from exhaling their death gasps. As one and then the other orc collapsed to the ground, the others from the group whipped around drawing swords, axes and halberds. Plates of steel covered their vital organs on their chests, preventing similar attacks. Chainmail coifs would make slashing at their throats harder as well.


    As Percival was reloading his crossbow, Ellen drew back three arrows and let them fly. Purple energy swirled around the tips, guiding them to the eyes of three separate orcs. They would need to thin out the orc ranks as much as possible before the orcs could close in on them, close combat would give the orcs a significant advantage.


    His bolt reloaded, he shot one of the orcs, but in his haste, he missed his mark. Instead of killing the orc, his bolt glanced off the chainmail coif. However, the blow was still intense and so while the orc wasn¡¯t killed outright, he did go to one knee, gasping and trying to breathe.


    A sludge green orc with a halberd clambered through the high grass toward Percival. His eyes were focused on the human and not losing him, which meant he didn¡¯t see the caltrops underfoot. His leather boots had steel plates on the top so that taking a pike butt wouldn¡¯t break his foot, they did not have anything on the bottom. This meant that he shoved his foot straight down on a three inch spike. The spike was long enough to go totally through the orc¡¯s foot and out the top of the boot, the barbs on the spike meant that when he pulled his foot up, it did not lift off the spike, but rather dragged the piece with him, doing more damage to his foot.


    The orc wailed in pain, but tried to move toward Percival even still. Percival frantically reloaded and shot the orc in the face with his crossbow. They were so close that the bolt went through the back of his helm and into the knee of another orc.


    A red orc tackled Percival from the side. They rolled on the ground, thankfully not among the caltrops, both trying to get the upper hand. The orc¡¯s mailed glove slammed into Percival¡¯s jaw making him go slack for a moment. Pain exploded in his head and stars bloomed in his sight.


    The orc sat on his chest, gloved hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing. Percival¡¯s hand twitched at his side, struggling to find something to use against the orc. His knife was trapped under the pressure of the orc¡¯s thigh, but his bag of caltrops wasn¡¯t.


    He grabbed one and plunged it into the orc¡¯s arm. The orc howled in anger, but kept his grip. Percival pulled it out and tried again, but he was getting weaker and when he struck a metal plate, it just skittered off. Once again he tried, this time he came from the back and struck the orc in the kidney.


    He must have nicked an artery, because a spurt of blood shot out of the orc and the orc collapsed to the side. Percival pushed him off and sat up, rubbing his throat, he was just in time to see Ellen put her hand on two orcs¡¯ heads. Purple energy swirled around her hands and the orcs screamed. Their screams tore from their throats, their eyes rolling up in their heads before they collapsed to the ground.


    ¡°Uh¡­ didn¡¯t know you could do that.¡± Percival climbed to his feet.


    Ellen blushed, ¡°Damn, I was hoping you wouldn¡¯t see me do that.¡±


    ¡°Why? It was pretty cool.¡±


    She crossed her arm over her chest, ¡°Because I¡¯m trying to be mysterious.¡±


    Well, that¡¯s cowbra manure. He didn¡¯t know why she was trying to hide, but it wasn¡¯t just to be ¡°mysterious¡±.


    A lightning bolt struck the grass near them.


    Percival jumped back, ¡°What in the hells?¡±


    Katrina pushed back the grass revealing an orc smoldering on the ground. ¡°You missed one.¡±

 #27 - Orc Captives

    The orc hissed as trapped gasses escaped its blackened corpse. The delightful smell of cooked pork reached Percival¡¯s nostrils and made his stomach twist with disgust. Knowing his mouth was watering over the death of a sentient creature was horrifying.


    Trying for nonchalance he asked, ¡°Is that going to cause a problem?¡±


    Katrina raised a questioning eyebrow, ¡°Will what be a problem?¡±


    Ellen stifled a snicker, ¡°You just pulled down lightning from a cloudless day.¡± It was hard for her to take them seriously at times. They were like adolescent tor-cats. Fierce, deadly and so curious they would wander up to a hunter just to see if his knife was really as sharp as their elders said. There are times when they just don¡¯t get that their actions have consequences.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Katrina looked up at the sky, a smirk spreading across her face before she shook her head and chuckled, ¡°No, no. I see why you would wonder, but the weather has been strange across the entire plains. One stray lightning bolt will draw no curious eyes.¡±


    ¡°Has it really been that strange?¡± Percival asked. He hadn¡¯t been in the plains during Breeding Season. He hadn¡¯t heard any of the other merchants complain about bad weather, but then no one ever went out during Breeding Season because of how insane the animals got. But how would she know the weather is being strange? She¡¯s never left Pode.


    Katrina nodded, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve pushed some of the worst away from us, but I can tell this area isn¡¯t used to this much rain. The dargon is changing the area to fit its needs, in a few months this whole area will become a swamp. That takes a lot of water that really doesn¡¯t normally belong here.¡±


    Percival shrugged. As long as it doesn¡¯t alert the orcs.


    ¡°So the important question, were you following us?¡± Ellen asked unstringing her bow.


    ¡°You mean when the two of you snuck off?¡± Katrina shook her head, ¡°Nah. Have your sneaky alone time. I heard the shouts and came down. Broden charged down ahead of me¡­¡± She looked around, but the grass was too tall to see anything, ¡°but I guess he got distracted or something.¡±


    Ellen leaned against her stout bow stave and gestured to the two orcs she had blasted with purple light, ¡°You two are strong, how about picking up these orcs and hauling them back to the others?¡±


    Katrina adjusted a gauntlet, ¡°Um¡­ why?¡±


    Percival looked up from going through the pockets of one of the dead orcs. He hadn¡¯t found much, but he had pulled about thirty coppers and had already picked up his fallen caltrops.


    ¡°Because I asked nicely?¡±


    Katrina snorted in an unladylike fashion, ¡°I¡¯m going to need a better reason than that to haul dead orcs around.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t dead!¡± Ellen looked affronted, ¡°I just knocked them out.¡±


    Percival, whose hand was in one of their pockets jumped back from the unconscious orc, ¡°Not dead?¡± It was one thing to check a dead man¡¯s codpiece for hidden loot; it was another to feel up a living man.


    ¡°No. Just knocked out. I wanted to question some of them.¡±


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s really smart! If we question them, then we can find out where their camp is and where the chieftain is!¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Exactly.¡± Ellen¡¯s voice was dry.


    ¡°But, uh, why not just question them here? Wouldn¡¯t questioning them amongst the bodies of their friends make them more likely to tell us?¡± Katrina asked.


    ¡°Damn. That¡¯s cold.¡± Percival said. Whoa, she is way more ruthless than I ever thought.


    Katrina shrugged, ¡°Hey, they are trying to kill us and our entire nation. They kinda earned a level of callousness.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Ellen spoke with a firm slashing gesture of her hand.


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not. How you behave in situations of pressure says more about you than how you behave in times of peace. Sometimes, you have to question your enemies among their dead; you can¡¯t move them because it will endanger your own life. But this is not one of those times.¡± Also, we want to get away from any groups that may come looking for their lost patrol. ¡°Torture seems like a great idea, hurt the people who want to hurt you and get the information you need, but that isn¡¯t how things work.¡±


    Percival and Katrina each picked up an orc and walked behind Ellen as she continued to explain.


    ¡°Just think about it, Katrina, your family live in Pode. Is there anything that could make you tell an enemy their location?¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡±


    ¡°Well, if someone tormented you long enough, you would say anything to make the pain stop, including telling where your loved ones are located. But, before you finally say where they are, you would lie through your teeth and say all kinds of things to throw them off the scent. So, when do they know when you are telling the truth? They don¡¯t. So they just keep hurting you. There is no end to torturing someone for information, you never know if you have the right information. There are far better ways of getting information.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Well, if you have time, you can gain their trust. We are social creatures ¨C even orcs ¨C and at some point, we will talk if we feel this person, even if they are our enemy, will help us. We say things all the time that give clues about ourselves without even realizing it.¡±


    ¡°Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we don¡¯t have time. We were supposed to get this done quickly, but thanks to a certain dwarf, we¡¯ve spent far longer on this mission than we were ever supposed to.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true, that¡¯s true. But I have some different ways to tell if a person is lying or not. Tricks of the trade, a little mind magic, etc.¡±


    Katrina adjusted her grip on the blue orc, ¡°Hm, orcs are evil. They don¡¯t form social bonds.¡±


    Ellen and Percival shook their heads, but it was Percival who spoke, though his words came between gasps, carrying his pink orc. The orcs had appeared to be the same size on the ground, but the pink orc was much sturdier than the blue. ¡°Orcs, uh, they form social groups. Tribes. Very close knit. I¡¯ve done some trading with the blue tribe. Some tribes are fiercer than others.¡±


    The three of them stepped through the high grass into the clearing their party had flattened so they could make camp. Percival and Katrina unceremoniously dumped the orcs into a multicolored pile of limbs in the middle of the camp. Percival grabbed a rope from his pack before coming back and securing the two orcs. He tied them back to back so he could use the same length of rope.


    Ellen looked at one orc¡¯s face then the other. The blue one was clearly older, his face more grizzled, his protruding tusks were yellowed, but there was a distinct similarity in their features. Something that went beyond them both being orcs. Could they be related? It would be unlikely. As far as she knew, orcs stuck with their color tribes and didn¡¯t like blending. In fact, the green tribe was considered the lowest tribe on the totem poll because it looked like a blend of the blue tribe and the yellow instead of its own distinct tribe.


    Katrina glanced at Ellen, ¡°Do you want me to go track down Broden?¡±


    Ellen shook her head laughing, ¡°You are a terrible tracker. No, that¡¯s okay. We¡¯ll be here a while. If he is still lost after we have questioned the orcs, I¡¯ll go out.¡±


    Kegar stomped over to them, ¡°Who told you to wander off! We were worried about you!¡±


    Lizzy followed behind him, she shook her head and mouthed, ¡°We didn¡¯t know you were gone.¡±


    Kegar stared at the orcs whose prone forms gave him the ability to look down on them in disgust. ¡°What are these orcs doing here? Why aren¡¯t they dead?¡±


    Ellen pulled two handkerchiefs out of her sleeve and gagged the unconscious orcs. ¡°I¡¯m going to question them to find the location of their orc chief. That way we won¡¯t have to wander around these plains forever.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± Ellen¡¯s brow wrinkled in confusion.


    ¡°I¡¯m the leader of this expedition. I should have given the approval for capturing these orcs, however, now that we have them, I will be the one torturing them. It would be wrong of me to entrust that to someone else.¡± There was a gleam in his eyes that frightened Katrina.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to torture them, we can just question them. I have a way of knowing if they are lying or not.¡±


    Kegar flicked his staff and the orcs were restrained by vines that burst from the ground. It was redundant given that they were already tightly bound. However, Kegar¡¯s vines were far tighter than necessary. ¡°What method is this?¡±


    The last thing Ellen wanted to do was tell Kegar she could read his mind if she wanted. It was unethical to do it without someone¡¯s consent or in great need, but she knew from her interactions with Kegar that if he had her ability, he would not be restrained by ethics and because of this, wouldn¡¯t believe her restraint. He might try to kill me to prevent me from reading his mind. ¡°I¡¯ve been trained to read body language. If you question the orc I can tell if he is lying or not.¡±


    Worry flickered across Kegar¡¯s face.


    The blue orc¡¯s head lolled to the side. He sneezed mightily pulling everyone¡¯s gaze to him. The blue orc glared up at the dwarf that stood over him. He yelled into his gag. The muffled insults, and they were most assuredly insults, struggled and died around the cloth in his mouth.


    Kegar¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Do you speak orcish?¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡±


    Kegar wasn¡¯t about to admit he couldn¡¯t speak a language.


    Strozazand stepped forward running a hand through his hair. ¡°Uh, I do. So I guess it doesn¡¯t matter, right? I can ask whatever questions you have. Ellen will tell us if they are lying or whatever and then we can do what we need to do.¡±


    Ellen nodded and undid the gag.


    Kegar grimaced. ¡°Where is your encampment?¡±


    Strozazand translated the question into orcish, ¡°Where is your encampment?¡±


    The orc looked at him with a puzzled expression. His blue lids blinked slowly over quicksilver eyes. The eyes had been unfocused when he first came to, but with each passing second they were getting sharper.


    Ellen struggled not to let an exasperated smirk cross her face, ¡°I don¡¯t think he knows what that word means.¡±


    ¡°You translated it wrong!¡± Kegar stamped his foot.


    ¡°No.¡± Stroz shook his head, ¡°No, I just used a word that was too big for him.¡± He tapped his jaw thinking, before speaking again in orcish, ¡°Where are your bedroll and the bedrolls of your tribe?¡±


    The orc laughed, his skin flushed into a deep blue, ¡°You puny pink skins use bedrolls? Orcs sleep among the skins of our enemies! Their hides are stripped and used to cover our bodies! Thmug the Subjugator would never allow something as pathetic as a bedroll in our camp.¡± He hawked a loogy and spit onto the ground.


    There were magics that mages could cast that would prevent someone from lying or would flash blue or red if someone lied. With a bit more study, Shandra would be able to cast such spells. However, Ellen was not a mage. She was a psion. She could tap into a person¡¯s surface thoughts; hearing them, speaking into them and with effort she could search through a person¡¯s memories or even change them. What she was doing with the orc took little energy, at the most she would nudge his thoughts toward what she wanted. The hardest part of it was actually to open her mind enough to hear the orc¡¯s thoughts without picking up on the people from Pode¡¯s thoughts. It would be an invasion of privacy and it would confuse what she was trying to determine.


    Ellen saw the orc¡¯s thoughts regarding Stroz¡¯s question in a series of pictures. She didn¡¯t know exactly what had been asked, but she saw his memories of a spacious tent. The tent¡¯s floors were blanketed with a mixture of crudely and incredibly well tanned furs of the different plains creatures, including a tor-cat. A voluptuous, middle aged orc female with delicate tusks tipped in gold lay naked on the blankets. She was such a rich and deep pink she almost looked red. The blue orc looked down on her with a tender fondness that only comes from a long bond and children. Two slightly younger females, mirror images of one another, ran clean, manicured blue fingers lightly across his chest. Their nails were a rainbow of colors with delicate chips of precious stones embedded into the nails.


    Oh hells no. She was not interested in watching orc porn. It was his memory, but it didn¡¯t need to be her¡¯s too. That was the problem with this method of psionics, what she did wasn¡¯t like reading a transcript or history of an event. Her power was kin to acquiring a new memory; with all the emotions, smells, and tactile feelings that accompanied those memories.


    Stroz frowned and snapped out a new question.


    The orc¡¯s memory shifted from the floor of the tent to him walking out. Judging by the color of the sky he was remembering a morning. She nudged his memory, asking him to recall more. A very large fuchsia orc, one that easily stood head and shoulders over the two bound in front of Ellen, towered over him speaking to him in the harsh orcish tongue. The blue orc felt admiration, jealousy and¡­ friendship¡­ towards the larger orc. Insight speared her, He is the pink female¡¯s brother.


    The three female orcs clung to the blue orc¡¯s his legs, weeping at whatever the large orc had said.


    That must be the orc chieftain.


    The blue orc turned in his memory and stepped away from his lovers. The first orc he saw was the young pink orc who was currently tied to his back. Warm paternal feelings welled up. Pride. Joy. Anxiety.


    That explains the features. That should be something we can use. The blue orc won¡¯t want to betray his mates, but he should want to save his son.


    Then the blue orc gathered up a squad and walked off into the grass, looking for something.


    For us. Ellen realized. She watched the path the orcs went on their patrol. She knew where the encampment was in relation to them. It was quite close. But how did they know to look for us? She couldn¡¯t understand the words that the two orcs had exchanged, but she was confident that something that had been said¡­ something said how the orcs knew they were coming.


    Ellen nodded as the blue orc insulted Stroz. ¡°Stroz, I recognized a word or two that he said. Can you ask him why he chose to bring his son on this raid?¡±


    The blue orc¡¯s eyes narrowed at Ellen. His thoughts flicked to his son.


    Wait. He understands the common tongue? This was a surprise to Ellen. She had always been led to believe that few orcs managed to learn it. Generally only the shamans, who were often covered in feathers, and the chieftains, who were huge. This orc was neither.


    Stroz¡¯s brow wrinkled in confusion. ¡°Uh, yeah¡­¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you didn¡¯t know orcish?¡± Kegar demanded.


    Ellen shook her head lying, ¡°Not enough to speak it by any means, but I can sometimes pick out a word or two.¡±


    Kegar frowned. His lips pressed so thin they disappeared like a knife cut behind his mustache and beard. ¡°No. Don¡¯t ask him that.¡± Kegar beckoned K?ttur over. ¡°Tell him, if he doesn¡¯t tell us where the orc chieftain is, I will have K?ttur rend his son limb from limb in front of him.¡±


    Stroz¡¯s eyes slid sideways to Ellen. A miniscule shrug said, ¡°If I would I could.¡± Then he spoke harshly in orcish.


    The blue orc¡¯s eyes widened at Kegar¡¯s words. He hadn¡¯t displayed fear when K?ttur approached. Ellen could tell that he had been convinced of his death from the moment he awoke. However the orc died, he would die with honor. But at Stroz¡¯s words, the blue orc whipped his head to the side; his eyes bulged as he saw his son¡¯s slack mouth and felt the young orc¡¯s shallow breath.


    ¡°Thunk!¡± The blue orc shouted. He turned back to Stroz and began babbling. His angry voice shouted and railed against Stroz, but fear radiated off him.


    He brought his son out to die in battle, but is afraid of him actually dying. A traitorous thought slipped out of her, or¡­ perhaps he is afraid of having his son be tortured? It is certainly different to die in battle than to be tortured, even though both leave you dead and both can be quite painful.


    Ellen shook her head, ¡°He¡¯s terrified now. I can¡¯t get anything from him but fear.¡±


    A sly smile crept across Kegar¡¯s face, ¡°Perhaps we can bargain with him.¡±


    That comment, coming from Kegar was a shock to everyone.


    Faute looked at the orcs with disgust, ¡°I can¡¯t believe you would release them.¡±


    Shandra looked up from her book, ¡°I think what Kegar is planning is to offer the son¡¯s life for the information we need. I get it, but we can¡¯t let either of them go unless we could guarantee that they wouldn¡¯t tell we were coming or something like that.¡± She tapped her fingers on her chin, ¡°Maybe I could come up with a spell that would prevent him from acting against us for a few days or a week¡­ obviously, not longer, since I would have to maintain it¡­¡± She trailed off in thought.


    Kegar rolled his eyes, ¡°No, you idiots. We aren¡¯t actually going to release the orc. We¡¯re going to lie.¡±


    The blue orc¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    Lizzy gasped in shock, ¡°You can¡¯t give your word and then back out! You are acting in my grandfather¡¯s place! It would dishonor my entire family.¡±


    Kegar gritted his teeth before forcibly unclenching his jaw, ¡°But dear, it isn¡¯t deception if you lie to something like an orc. They¡¯re completely evil.¡± He took her hands in his, ¡°I¡¯m just trying to protect everyone with the least amount of bloodshed.¡±


    Lizzy pulled her hands away from him, ¡°No! You cannot offer him his son¡¯s life and then back out on your word! That¡¯s evil!¡±


    Kegar¡¯s eyes flashed angrily, ¡°Fine! If he agrees and gives us the correct location ¨C which we will verify ¨C then we will release the son.¡±


    Ellen had been monitoring the orc¡¯s mind during the argument, but with Kegar¡¯s final remark she picked up on his surface thoughts. He¡¯s lying through his teeth. He fully intends to kill them both.


    Stroz translated the offer to the blue orc. The orc¡¯s eyes flicked from Kegar to Lizzy and back again. It seemed to Ellen that he was trying to decide which would have the ultimate authority.


    Ellen knew that she could find the orc camp with what information she currently had. The hard part would be convincing Kegar that she knew the way, especially since what she had was fairly vague information. She would have to do some tracking and she would need to do it in silence.


    It would be far simpler to get the whereabouts from the orc¡¯s mouth. Anyway, it would be a few hours, possibly days, before his feelings toward his family wore off and she couldn¡¯t let his son be tortured.


    ¡°If you tell Strozazand where the orc camp is, I swear to you, I will make sure your wives and children escape and I will make sure your son does not die today either.¡± She placed the thoughts in his head.


    His eyes snapped toward hers. His brow wrinkled. You¡­ are¡­ a mind walker?


    That was a name she hadn¡¯t heard before. ¡°Yes.¡±


    He turned his head to Stroz. This is Strozazand the Dargonman? The troll said he was dead. The troll said Strozazand was carried out a corpse. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, He looks good for a dead man.


    That was certainly news to Ellen. It explained how the orcs knew they were coming, the troll from the keep had escaped ¨C not burned to death ¨C and had watched them leave with Stroz¡¯s corpse. But¡­ ¡°How did you know Stroz¡¯s name?¡±


    The swamp dargon told the chief his name and that he needed to die. But, I argued. I said we orcs weren¡¯t the slaves of the swamp dargon. We are creatures of the plains, like the blue dargons, not swamp monsters like the lizardmen and swamp dargons. When I heard the troll¡¯s description of Strozazand the Dargonman, I knew we weren¡¯t supposed to attack him, but ally with him.


    This was unexpected.


    ¡°But¡­ if you knew Stroz¡¯s description, why didn¡¯t you cooperate earlier?¡±


    The orc sneezed. How many people have you even known to come back to life? Even the hero¡¯s tales don¡¯t have people coming back to life that often. It¡¯s something saved for intervention from the gods.


    Ellen remembered Stroz coming back as a bunny before a lightning bolt struck him and he was restored to his human shape. ¡°I suppose that is true.¡±


    That means that the trolls betrayed my people. I didn¡¯t trust them to begin with, but this seals it. Promise me you won¡¯t let them kill the females and littles, promise me that you will spare my son and I will tell Strozazand where the orc chieftain is.


    ¡°I promise.¡±


    Very well. The orc began speaking orcish to Strozazand.


    Stroz¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°He says he accepts. We spare his son and he¡¯ll tell us where the camp is.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± Kegar snapped. ¡°Lizzy will stay here guarding the orcs. We don¡¯t want them to run while we are gone.¡±


    ¡°No! I¡¯m seeing this through.¡±


    ¡°Fine!¡± Kegar glared around the group, ¡°Katrina, you and Mary will stay here. Guard them. If they move, kill them.¡±


    Katrina and Mary nodded.


    ¡°The rest of you come with me. Stroz, you lead us until we get close.¡±


    The group picked up what they needed for the strike and filed out of the clearing of stomped grasses. Kegar waited until everyone had moved out before going back to Katrina and Mary, ¡°I want those orcs dead when I get back. If they aren¡¯t you¡¯ll be dead.¡±

 #28 - Thmug the Subjugator

    Thmug the Subjugator lifted the flap to his tent and looked out. The sky was clear, at the moment, but since the swamp dargon moved in, the great plains were constantly under stress. One moment it would be like it had always been, and the next storms were tearing across the countryside, pulling up grasses that were tall enough to hide a tor-cat and flattening orc dens. He stepped out of the tent, his new boot sinking ankle deep into the suddenly swampy ground.


    A permanent frown had been etched on his face ever since the swamp dargon had moved in. It had only gotten deeper when he had united the clans.


    A lizardman slithered out of the tent, ¡°Remember chieftain, if you sack the capital city of the humans, the dargon, in her most infinite wisdom, will give you the plains uncontested.¡±


    Thmug looked at his soiled boot, ¡°But will the plains be swamp or plains?¡±


    ¡°That all depends on how quickly you perform your task. The longer you dawdle, the more of it will be swamp.¡±


    Thmug¡¯s fist clenched. ¡°If you are lying to me, I promise you, I will eat the flesh from your bones and then break your neck.¡±


    The lizardman¡¯s tongue flicked out of his snake-like mouth. Only another reptile would be able to read its facial expression and they had no sweat glands for an accomplished hunter to scent their fear. In other words, if you weren¡¯t expecting peace, they made excellent diplomats.


    Thmug snapped his fingers and a short ashy grey orc, with eyes that seemed too large for his head, appeared at his side, ¡°Hork, post extra guards on the side the lightning came from. It could be something.¡±


    Hork bobbed his head like a bird before running off. His back was covered in the feathers of a shaman, but when the fighting came, he would be placed in the tents with the women and children. Hork was too simple to take into battle. And it would devastate those who lived if he died. Not to mention Hork didn¡¯t know a single combat spell.


    ¡°Mirasi!¡± He shouted. His first mate poked her head out of their tent. She was not the most lovely orc female, but she was cunning and loyal. The many bright feathers sown into her skin indicated that she was a powerful shaman.


    ¡°What do you ask of me, chieftain?¡± She nodded her head in deference.


    ¡°Strike down the camp. When we leave, I want you to lead the non-combatants deeper south-west into the plains.¡±


    The lizardman hissed from his elbow, ¡°Do you not expect to be victorious, orc chieftain?¡±


    The chieftain ignored the reptile, ¡°You will take them to our Breeding Season camp. After our victory over the humans, the last thing the warriors need to fear is that our females and younglings may be in danger.¡±


    His first mate nodded and left, barking orders to the other females, younglings and non-combatants. The females struck, folded and reconfigured the tents into sleds while the younglings corralled the draft boars and readied them to be hitched up.


    One of his trolls, the one that had been stationed at the old keep, came up to him. The troll was badly burned. Half of his face was a mass of burn scars and his left arm had been shriveled to a pathetic stump protruding from his left shoulder. Trolls could heal from anything but a fire or acid burn. Those scars would mark him forever to his shame and the shame of his tribe. If Thmug hadn¡¯t interceded for him, he would certainly have been killed when he returned, something that would have been a blessing to the world, but Thmug had needed the information the troll had brought him then and prevented the other trolls from killing the deformed creature. ¡°Hail! Thmug the Subjugator, chieftain of orcs!¡±


    Thumg raised his hand in salute, ¡°Hail! Silisk the Burned. What do you bring me?¡±


    Silisk the Burned sneered at the orc chieftain, ¡°Do you remember the insolent creatures that burned me?¡±


    ¡°I remember your tale of woe. I remember how you told me that they would surely come for me swiftly, and I would do right to prepare. I prepared and doubled my patrols, encountering many of the enraged beasts of Breeding Season, but we encountered none of these pink skins that you told us of.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Silisk waved a hand disregarding what Thmug had said, ¡°Thmug the Subjugartor was wise to listen to Silisk the Burned then, and he would be wise to listen now, follow me!¡±


    The troll crept out of the camp, through the grasses along the route they would take to Capita. Thmug followed, while he didn¡¯t really have time for a wild serapital chase, if it turned out to be something, and it would need to for Silisk to keep Thmug¡¯s favor and protection, then it would be worth knowing.


    Silisk stopped and guestured for Thmug to listen. At first Thmug couldn¡¯t hear anything, but as he listened he heard shouting. Silisk leaned over and whispered, ¡°The one you hear is the little dwarf. It could be dangerous to creep closer to count them, but that is certainly the dwarf from the group that attacked me.¡± Silisk¡¯s grotesque face twisted in a horrible grimace, ¡°I would love to get my hand on one of them.¡± His lone hand clenched so tightly his claws dug into his unburned hand and brackish blood oozed out before the wound healed itself.


    Thmug put a hand on the troll¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Come on back, we¡¯ll attack before they are ready for us.¡±


    The two returned to the orc camp while Thmug peppered Silisk with questions about the group. Thmug rallied the troops and called out the march. He was at the front of the troop with Silisk and Orts the two trolls and Ugi, Karm, and Runi the lizardmen directly behind him. He didn¡¯t want the lizardmen running off to betray them. His combat shamans were mixed in the rear with his archers.


    Ugi, Karm and Runi palmed dark stones. According to the lizardmen, they could be chewed and then allowed the chewer to breathe some sort of dargon breath. They were unclear on the details.


    The tall grasses parted and the strange group of surprised humanoids was in front of them. Arrows flew in a volley toward the group but one of the female humans, Shandra, shouted a spell and the arrows struck an unseen barrier before falling to the ground. Before the others in the group could recover from their surprise, Thmug and his sword and axe wielding orcs charged.


    Twin great axes that glowed with the blessings of his shamans leapt into Thmugs strong hands. He swung in a strong downward arc at the dwarf with leaves stuck in his hair and beard, the one Silisk had claimed to be the leader, but a human in glowing golden armor kicked the dwarf, Kegar, out of the way and hooked both axes on a two-handed golden blade. The blade sparked like it was throwing off pieces of the sun when Thmug¡¯s axes struck it and the tall grass around them began to smoke. This was a moment when the swampiness of the plains was in the world¡¯s favor however, because the high water concentration in the ground put out any fires before they could sweep across the plains.


    Thmug¡¯s army fired another volley of arrows, this time focusing on the casters: Shandra, who had cast the protection spell; the white woman with the glowing pink energy around her hands, Faute; and the brownish woman with the lute, Lizzy. The troll had said that the woman with the lute, Thmug knew she had to be a bard, could sing and make her allies fight with more vigor or play and bring his forces to their knees.


    Bards are not to be taken lightly. The legends say that Eyjan is surrounded by the mists because of bards. Thmug roared trying to distract any that he could. He saw Silisk was trying to fight a man with dargon wings sprouted from his back, Strozazand. Stroz was trying to breathe on Silisk, but Silisk¡¯s heavy fist prevented the man from being able to do so. Orts wrestled with a huge snow leopard, the two taking turns biting and clawing one another. The snow cat¡¯s attempts were futile since the troll healed and the troll couldn¡¯t seem to penetrate the cat¡¯s hide.


    The lizardmen were alternating between chewing their stones and breathing sprays of acid at the party, however the wind was whipping up and some of the acid sprays were being blown back at the trolls who were not pleased by the development. Every time the wind blew acid on the trolls it not only harmed them, but it also prevented them from healing from the attacks they were suffering from their attackers.


    Thmug shouted in orcish, ¡°Shamans! Kill the black human!¡± I bet if humans and their ilk were not so monochromatic they wouldn¡¯t feel the need to steal our land. It was something Thmug had believed for a long time. Humans and dwarves only came in two colors, pink and black. It wasn¡¯t a nice pink either, like orcs, but rather a sad pink that tried to hide behind a mask of white. It was shameful. Humans were shameful.


    Roots and grasses leapt from the grass entangling Shandra¡¯s calves and thighs, disrupting her spell casting. Kegar began casting at the orc shamans, ignoring Shandra¡¯s struggles.


    ¡°Broden!¡± Shandra yelled.


    That was when Thmug heard a sound he had hoped he would never hear again. In his younger days, before he had sought to unite the clans, he had journeyed far from his plains homeland to the boarders of the Brown Dargon flight¡¯s lands. It was there that he had encountered a lion. The beast was so powerful and large it could make a Tor-cat roll over in sheer panic.


    Thmug turned and looked over his people to see, what he knew to be a rather small lion, tearing its way through his archers. Some of his archers turned and fired at the lion, but Thmug knew iron tipped arrows couldn¡¯t pierce a lion¡¯s hide. Others, seeing their death coming, fired futilely at the bard whose¡¯ magic was sapping the strength from the orcs. Thmug watched the arrows stream toward the bard only to be cut away by a slight man, Percival, he hadn¡¯t noticed. Some of the arrows, the man literally snatched out of the air. It was at once amazing and horrifying to see.


    It became even more horrifying when Percival handed all the snatched arrows to a dusky black skinned woman with a bow, Ellen. The bow was wreathed in purple energy and as she held each arrow against it, they too became charged with the purple energy. When she fired the arrows, they went unerringly into the throats of the lizardmen and Silisk.


    The power of the arrows striking Silisk knocked the troll off balance, which gave Strozazand just enough time to get a breath and breathe fire into Silisk¡¯s face. But the flames weren¡¯t done. Stroz turned his head and caught Orts in the blast as well. K?ttur, was slightly singed, but managed to spring out of the way before catching too much heat.


    Thmug had been able to take in all this information while holding back Cole, the man in the golden armor. What he hadn¡¯t noticed was the short, fat Halfling Finos sneaking around behind him. Thmug did notice the Halfling hamstringing him.


    Thmug felt determined to kill one of these detestable creatures that would make orcish kind extinct. The bard, it must be the bard. Silisk had believed the dwarf was the leader, but Thmug could smell the royal blood in the bard. Using his left axe to deflect Cole¡¯s sword, he threw his axe straight toward Lizzy, knowing that the power of his throw would be too much for the slight man to deflect.


    As the lion¡¯s jaws clamped around his throat and began to shake him, Thmug saw Percival kick the axe head squarely on the shaft between the two heads. The human¡¯s timing was so perfect that the axe turned and fell, hitting no one.


    We have all died for nothing.

 #29 - Cleaning Up is Never Clean

    The sun was setting on the battlefield, the blood staining the earth reflecting the crimson sky. The death of the orc warriors had been as vicious and inevitable as a crocalyal swimming into a sheef pond were only a few young shefherders stood guard. Orcish arms had been separated from orcish bodies; both by steel, claw and spell. The trolls were nothing more than foul smelling ash, putrefying the earth beneath them.


    Broden had, for the first time, fully transformed into his totem animal the lion. The laws of physics seemed to have checked out while he did so, because the solidly built, two hundred pound dwarf had transformed into an eight hundred pound lion. He had not mimicked the filthy, stained pelt he carried with him. Rather, he had transformed into the almost mythical beast that hunted the hotter scrublands and plains in the south. His pelt had shimmered in the light a tawny yellow, his mane a brilliant rose gold. He had been majestic. His majesty had not been tarnished by hunt, but rather burnished by the blood in his claws and the death in his paws.


    He had torn through the camp, from the back to the front, slaughtering all who lifted a weapon against him. His fierce attack focused on the flank had routed those that were already engaged with the rest of the group so that the levee of Pode destroyed the orcs with the ease of shooting domesticated cowbra in a barn.


    Strozazand cracked his neck, some scales that had broken through his skin receding. ¡°I guess we should behead the chieftain and head back?¡± His eyes rested on the orc corpse with trepidation. The chief was significantly larger than any of the other orcs; broader than Broden and taller than Cole. Even in death, the chief was imposing.


    In all the tales Sir Wilbur had told them about hunts or battles, it was always the king or prince, or leader of the group who, if not dealt the final blow to the leader, at least took the creature¡¯s head. Often, if the offender was of high enough intelligence, they challenged him to single combat. It was both the privilege of leadership and the responsibility of it.


    Cole glanced at Kegar. The dwarf made no move to take the orc¡¯s head. ¡°It seems like something the leader should really do.¡± He murmured before adding louder, ¡°I have a sword, why don¡¯t I take care of it?¡±


    Finally noticing his ¡°head¡± pun. A half hysterical burble of laughter escaped Stroz¡¯s lips before he clamped down on it. In all the battles the levee had faced, and all the fights he had been in as part of Pode militia, nothing had prepared him for the gore of this slaughter. It was overwhelming in its magnitude. They, a band of twelve, had not only fought and killed, but butchered an army of orcs.


    The levee of Pode had singlehandedly killed all the male orcs of all the tribes that roamed the plains. Had the army of the Northern Kingdom been here in their stead, the army, not the orcs would have been slaughtered. Shandra¡¯s mind whirled like one of the mini tornadoes that sometimes appeared when Katrina was enraged. She had always known herself to be powerful and intelligent, but surveying the carnage¡­ she had to wonder, What is it about Pode that has made us all so powerful? It was such an intriguing idea that she made it her new area of study.


    Cole placed one boot on the orc¡¯s chest while resting his other on the ground to give himself the leverage he needed to cut through the thick neck. Even with his considerable strength it took two blows to cut through all the sinew and bone.


    With distaste he picked up the severed head. ¡°Ellen, do you have an extra sack or something to wrap it in? I don¡¯t want orc brains or goop on my clothes.¡±


    Ellen nodded, ¡°With my things, sure.¡± She chuckled over the corpse of an orc, ¡°Without me, you wouldn¡¯t have half the tools you need.¡±


    Stroz smiled and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a bloody smear in its wake. ¡°Without you, we wouldn¡¯t know what we were missing.¡± He crouched by a body and began stripping its gear, pocketing coins and other small valuables while setting the bulkier gear like weapons and armor in a pile so he could determine if its value was worth its weight later.


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    Ellen laughed again, ¡°You¡¯re like an old campaigner, Stroz. Stripping everything from a field of battle.¡±


    He shrugged, seeming to have recovered from his earlier burble, ¡°Kegar promised me money for the bone tower and he didn¡¯t deliver, all I got was that weird bone spike off the top. And I only got that because I refused to leave without something. Who knows if that¡¯s going to be worth anything. If this king tries to back out on his payment, I want to get something out of it. My horde can¡¯t remain barren forever.¡± Frustration bled into his voice.


    Cole replied, still looking at the head in his hand with distaste, ¡°Don¡¯t you mean ¡®we¡¯ want to get something out of it?¡±


    Stroz grunted thoughtfully while pulling a breastplate off an orc. ¡°Well, I suppose I¡¯ll share with Mary and Katrina, after all they didn¡¯t have a choice, and Ellen is helping me strip the bodies so of course she¡¯ll get some. But what do the rest of you care? You would leave the money on the ground, so you can¡¯t be interested. Anyway, I¡¯m the one, with Ellen¡¯s help, doing all the work.¡±


    Kegar jumped in, ¡°We are a team! You can¡¯t take all the spoils for yourself when we killed them together! Cole and Katrina ransacked the room in the keep alone and they were going to share the money from that! How can you be so selfish?¡±


    Cole raised an eyebrow at Kegar. He hadn¡¯t considered the need for him to share what he had found. I suppose though it¡¯s true. If I want people to share with me when they find something, I need to be willing to share with them when I find something. His shoulder lifted and dropped in a almost imperceptible shrug, shrugging off the entire mental argument and deciding to simply share whatever treasure he discovered.


    Lizzy pulled a bandage tight on Percival with a disgusted sigh. He had received the slash preventing her from being skewered, something Kegar had not noticed at all. Lizzy had noticed that Percival had stuck by her, like he had been hired to do, preventing her from dying almost a dozen times. Kegar said I didn¡¯t need Percival because he would take care of me, protect me, but he wasn¡¯t anywhere near me. He didn¡¯t even have K?ttur stay by me. Her fury burned into her movements, making them harsh and jerky. Unfortunately, making her anger sear Percival a great deal and touch Kegar not at all. But Percival suffered through her ministrations while giving no indication that he noticed how firmly she was wrapping his wounds or how quickly she was pulling bandages tight.


    When she finished, Percival stood with effort. His attempt to make it seem effortless only emphasized how stiffly he rose, ¡°I think he is willing to share if we help, is that right Stroz?¡±


    Stroz nodded, ¡°It¡¯ll go faster too.¡±


    Broden, having finished changing back into a dwarf, began taking the stripped orcs and tossing them into a pile. The process that had brought him back to his natural form would make any self respecting, mundane alchemist or would be scientist have kittens. Not only had Broden released six hundred pounds into somewhere, but he also was restored fully clothed, or as clothed as he ever was, with his weapons and miscellaneous pouches all in proper order. Even the wounds he had suffered in lion form seemed to have been tended to. Not with a bandages like Percival, but more likely with some magical spell or divine intervention.


    Shandra, whose thoughts had been moving so fast, nearly anyone else would have collapsed in exhaustion, shook her head, clearing the light mental exercise before she began a magical ritual. It was a rather tame ritual, as far as magic went. She took a piece of orc flesh, so the spell would target orcs, and stared at it while gesturing and murmuring archaic words. The ritual would, when it went off, remove the orcs from their belongings. In theory it sounded wonderful, in practice¡­ less so. The orcs that hadn¡¯t been stripped by the time she was done were reduced to a pile or puddle of sludge, their goop dropped on the stacked corpses. Unfortunately, they were dropped onto the pile, so their viscous nature splashed when they hit the corpses, spraying anyone nearby with pureed orc.


    Fortunately, this ended the argument over loot.


    Ellen, who was only just managing to not vomit, grunted, ¡°I hope the female and young weren¡¯t planning on coming back for their dead.¡± Her skin was a distressed green shade.


    Faute, who had not lifted a finger to help, cut in, ¡°I hope they do come back and see! Filthy animals! You saw what they did to those villages. What if that had been Pode?¡± While others were releasing themselves of their breakfast, she seemed completely unperturbed.


    ¡°First off, it couldn¡¯t have been Pode. Look what we did to them. If all of Pode had been here¡­ Second, while it was terrible, yes, it¡¯s no worse than what humans, dwarves, and lizardfolk have been visiting upon each other for generations.¡± Ellen replied, attempting to reason with a child she knew better than to try with.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve had good reason!¡± Faute snapped back.


    ¡°There is always a good reason, but never an excuse.¡±


    When the bodies were finished being stripped and they were loaded up to carry as much of the spoils as they could, they made their way back to Mary and Katrina. Kegar had forgotten not only his order to kill the captured orcs, but also that there had been captured orcs with all the commotion of the battle. Because of this, he didn¡¯t think to question them on their prisoners and no one else remembered or cared. They were weary from the ferocity of the battle and eager to head back to Capita. If they weren¡¯t feeling at ease with their group, they were at least secure in the knowledge that the orcs had been put down, the chief slain. There would be no more delay. The king would send the knights and clerics to Pode to destroy the corruption of the bone spire before it could rise again and destroy their homeland.