fantasy

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 30

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Closing her eyes, Callindra wove Brightfang in an intricate pattern, keeping her breath measured and even.  She called the arcane power that drove the very world to spin into herself and harnessed it.  Her eyes flashed open and she rushed the creatures, moving faster that she ever had before.  She was the wind and she danced between her enemies, her sword cutting huge rents into their bodies.

Pausing at the far side of the room, Callindra realized that the corpses hadn’t fallen and that they now stood between her and the door.  Cursing in fear and frustration she gathered herself, looking for a way out.  A had grabbed her ankle in a vice like grip.  She had forgotten the nurse.

The door burst open, Cronos and Vilhylm coming through nearly at a run.  Vilhylm leapt through the air, smashing both hands down with brutal force and bludgeoning one of the monsters to the floor.  Cronos was incanting arcane words and summoning bolts of power that flew from his fingertips to strike another.

Two still remained, both focused on Callindra.  One had her leg and continued to hold it, clawing at her unprotected calf with its other had but she kicked the hand away, managing to stumble out of the way of the other’s clumsy attack.

“Hurry, they’re getting stronger!”  She warned, hacking awkwardly at what had been the nurse.

Behind her friends, shouts of alarm could be heard.  Soldiers came through the, weapons drawn and eyes angry.  When they took in the scene, their horror was strong enough to send two of them running back out the door screaming in panic.

“Help her you thrice cursed cowards!”  Cronos shouted at their retreating backs.  The others seemed too shocked to do  more than hide behind their shields.

Vilhylm took one of the heavy beds and hurled it at the only creature still standing.  The frame cracked from the impact and the monster was crushed beneath it.  Callindra shrieked in pain as the one remaining enemy raked her leg with sharp claws.  With a sharp double swing of Brightfang she severed both its arms (Dragonfly Lands on the Pond).

“This is what you were hiding?”  She demanded, “You had infected here the whole time?”
“I didn’t know.”  One of the soldiers said faintly, “They never told us…”

“Well you certainly could have guessed!”  Cronos shouted, “Or perhaps you could have god rotting CHECKED!”

“They said it was contagious, that only those with special protections against the illness could hope to enter.”  The soldier said, “How were we to know?”

“My brother was exposed to this.”  Cronos said, his voice dark with anger, “If it truly is contagious and he’s infected it will be a very bad day for you.”

Vilhylm had removed his mask and returned to a more normal size and demeanor, but his anger was also apparent.  “This was a grave mistake.  I will speak to the Mayor about it.”

The measured tramp of feet came from outside.  The last creature that Callindra had hacked into pieces was still writhing on the floor but she left it there.  Let them see what evil Mayor Iason had been hiding.  The soldiers stopped outside the door.

“I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.”  Captain Luca said, his voice flat and emotionless.  “We shall give you provisions and horses for your assistance, but you must leave now.”

“You’re all mad if you stay here.”  Callindra said, looking at the ranks of soldiers behind him, “You’ll all die.  There’s something here that’s spreading THAT!”  She pointed at the figure that still moved on the floor in spite of not having a head or hands.

“This never happened to people before you came!”  One of the soldiers in the back shouted, “Get gone and be thankful we’re giving you anything!”

“We aren’t thieves.”  Luca said, “We have brought your belongings to the front gate, along with provisions and horses.  Your priest tried his level best and we appreciate that, however he only made things worse.  His presence seems to aggravate the condition.”

“You may not be thieves.”  Tryst’s tired voice said from behind the ranks of armed men, “But you are fools if you think you can hide from this behind walls.  I do not know what this sickness is, but if it ravages the world there is no wall that can possibly keep it out.”

Callindra looked in Luca’s eyes as she moved to join Tryst, and she could see the despair in them.  He knew they were right and that he had no way of keeping his people safe and he knew it, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Good luck.”  Callindra said quietly to him as she passed, “You are going to need it.”

–

They had been making much better time now that they were mounted again, after three days the forest began to thin and give way to rolling hills.  Vilhylm began to get more and more tense the further they traveled.  He began to ride ahead when they approached taller hills in order to get the lay of the land before allowing the others to continue.  After a day of this, Cronos finally lost his patience.

“What in the hells are you doing?”  He demanded when Vil had returned from one of his forays, “It’s going to take us forever to get to the High Forest at this rate.”

“The lack of any human presence is disturbing me.”  Vilhylm said, “We should have at least come across a patrol by this point, but we haven’t seen anyone.”

“What city are we approaching?”  Callindra asked, wondering why there would be patrols this far out in the wilderness.

“We are only about a day or two from Dagger’s Falls.”  Vilhylm replied, “That smoke is also worrisome.”

“Smoke?”  Tryst said, “What smoke?”

They all scanned the horizon and Vilhylm pointed to what they had all thought was a thunderstorm.  Now that they looked, they could see the black and gray smoke rising from a fire of unimaginable proportions.

“What could possibly cause that large of a blaze?”  Callindra whispered, “There’s just… no way….”

“I’m afraid it’s the city.”  Vilhylm said.

“That’s impossible.”  Said Cronos, “There are over a million people in that city, the guards alone number in the hundreds of thousands.  Nothing could destroy a city that large.  No army in the known lands could possibly lay siege to it.”

“True enough.”  Tryst said, his voice grim. “Unless that sickness or whatever it is has spread.”

The idea stopped all of them cold.  It was almost too much to contemplate.

“You don’t think that’s possible do you?”  Callindra asked, “I mean, wouldn’t we have seen… something?”

“Exactly my point.” Said Vilhylm.  The rest of them fell silent.

“All right.  So we continue cautiously until we can see the city.”  Callindra said, “If I recall what I’ve seen of the maps, it’s on the coast right?  We should have the high ground, it ought to be easy enough for us to see what’s happening there.”

“Yes, but until we get there we must be careful.  If the city is truly besieged the odds of us running into hostile forces are high.”  Vilhylm said, “We do not number nearly enough to survive such an encounter, so I am being careful.”

“If the city is under attack, how will we cross the river?”  Callindra asked, “I thought the only bridge of the WHATEVER river this far south was at Dagger’s Falls.”

“We might be able to find a ford.”  Cronos said doubtfully, “I don’t remember this part of the world very well though.”

“No, the WHATEVER river is far too swift and generally runs through deep ravines that it has carved out of the landscape.”  Callindra said, “If we can’t cross at Dagger’s Falls then we will be forced to backtrack for days, or maybe even weeks before we find a safe crossing.”

“Well, we will just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”  Tryst said without a trace of amusement.  After a moment, he added, “Or not I suppose.”  He was so deadpan that Callindra broke out laughing in spite of herself.  Cronos’s laugh was surprisingly mellow, reminding her that he was younger than she was, even if not by much.  Even Vilhylm smiled, the first time she had seen him do more than quirk up a corner of his mouth.

“We’ll get past it one way or another.”  Tryst said, smiling. “It can’t be as bad as all that, else we would have heard of it.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 29

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The guard led the way through a series of low stone buildings to the high walls of the keep.  To one side they could see a stockyard overflowing with lowing cattle.  On the other side, a gang of children were playing a game involving kicking a ball of rags around in a flagstone courtyard.  They walked into the keep and Callindra noted the heavily armed guards on both sides of the door.

He brought them through a series of corridors and into a large hall.  Fireplaces burned on each end and the windows were wide open, letting in a pleasant breeze and plenty of sunlight.  A tired looking man in rumpled purple and gold robes sat in a carved chair with purple cushions.

“What is this then captain?”  He said, looking up from a cup of wine.

“Travelers my lord Mayor.  They’re clean, I checked them personally.”  He gestured toward Tryst, “This one here is a healer.  He says he might be able to help us.”

“Is that so?”  He said, looking up at them.  “I see, that would be most welcome.”

“I am Tryst te ‘Chern.”  Tryst said, “These are my companions Vilhylm, Cronos and Callindra.  We are on a mission of some import, however I would be most honored if you would allow me to attempt to help your people to earn our room and board for the night.”

“Wonderful!  I am Iason, and this is my guard captain Lucca.  Please allow me to show you and your friends to refreshments and once you are ready…”  A look of hope passed over him as well, “Well, if you can help us we will forever be in your debt.”

Lucca set his wine cup down and stood from his chair, leading them down a short hallway, and down a flight of stairs.  The smell of soap and wood fires made Callindra very aware of her filthy, blood splattered state and she saw with relief that they were being led first to a huge bathing pool.

The water was hot enough to make her wince, especially when her wounds touched it.  It was a relief to sluice the dust, dirt and blood from herself though and then to briefly soak in the pool.  Once she was clean, she returned to find Tryst waiting for her with a needle and thread.

“We need to take care of those gashes across your stomach at very least.”  He said, “Now that they’re clean I can stitch them up.”

Callindra sighed, she’d been hoping to get away with just a quick bandage and then be able to go and eat but wasn’t surprised at his insistence.  She was only wearing her chest wrap, having anticipated Tryst wanting to patch her up and sighed again as she lay down on a rough wooden bench in the changing room.

His hands were deft and gentle and she was able to relax in spite of the pain of the needle and thread.  She wondered at how comfortable she was with Tryst, even in this state of undress and vulnerability.  There was no question in her mind that he was treating her as an equal; as he would his own brother.

This was what she had wished so hard for during her training.  Callindra felt her eyes sting with emotion, she had never dared dream that she would actually find true companions like these and now more than ever she knew she would fight to the bitter end for any one of her friends.

“All done.  Now go and get some food.  Red meat, hearty ale, bread and vegetables.”  He said, pulling her from her reverie.  “Nothing strenuous for at least a day.”

“You’ve told me all that before.”  She said, her voice muffled from beneath the tunic she was pulling over her head.

“And you’ve ignored every time, at least the part about taking it easy.”  Tryst said with a smile, “That’s why I feel the need to repeat myself.”

Callindra laughed, “Fair enough my friend.  Thank you for your help, as always.”

“You bleed with us Callindra, it’s the least I can do.”  Said Tryst, putting his needle and thread away carefully in a small cedar wood box.  “Now let’s get food together.  I’m worried about what I’ll find when I get to the infirmary.”

The others were already in the main hall, enjoying a meal with Iason and a few others they hadn’t met before.  Apparently there was an abundance of cattle and a dearth of fodder, for the meat was plentiful and fresh but there weren’t many vegetables.  The meal was largely consumed in silence for Callindra and her friends were hungry and the folk of the keep seemed to be intentionally keeping to themselves.  After the plates had been cleared away, Tryst rose and turned to Iason.

“If you would lead me to your wounded, I will see what I can do for them.”  He said.

“I’ll … just come to see where you’ll be.”  Callindra said.  She was getting a strange feeling and decided she wanted to see where they were bringing her friend.

The infirmary wasn’t far away, and it only had four occupants.  They were all children though, laying on beds heaped high with blankets and large fires roared on both ends of the room.  The children shivered in spite of the heat and the extra coverage.

“I will be fine Callindra.”  Tryst said, “Go and get some rest.  I think you took the worst of it out there.”

She nodded slowly and retreated, moving back to the main keep and finding her bed.  Her body was screaming for sleep and she knew if she didn’t rest she wouldn’t be able to be worth a damn the next day.  Even with a good night’s rest she would barely be able to dance the Korumn the next day.

Removing her boots, she fell into bed, laying Brightfang’s hilt on the pillow next to her.  When sleep came, she wrestled with troubling dreams filled with green eyed monsters and strange children who left burning footprints wherever they walked.

–

The sunlight streaming through her window awakened Callindra, and she sat up, disentangling herself from the twisted mess of her sheets and blankets.  Her room had a mirror and she glared at her reflection, hair looking like she’d spent the night in a gale, not in a quiet bed, eyes with dark circles underneath them…

She stretched and grimaced at the tightness in her abdomen.  After running through some basic Stances, she went to look for some breakfast, and her friends.  Cronos was eating a hearty breakfast, and Callindra sat next to him and poured a mug of tea.

“You look like shit.”  Cronos said.

“And a mighty fine morning to you!”  Callindra retorted, “When did Tryst get to bed?”

“Eh?  What do you mean come to bed?”  Asked Cronos, “He’s been at it all night again.”

Callindra shoved the rest of the bread in her mouth and stood, grabbing her teacup.  Adjusting Brightfang’s scabbard over her shoulder, she headed for the door.  The feeling of unease was back and she needed to see Tryst to set herself at ease.  Cronos shrugged and returned to his breakfast.

Hurrying across the courtyard, Callindra paused briefly at the door to the infirmary and took a deep, calming breath.  “It’s just your imagination fool girl.”  She muttered, “These people have been nothing but hospitable after the initial unpleasantness at the gate.”

Opening the door, she was hit by a wave of heat.  The air had a strange, sweet scent that made her nostrils burn.  Beneath that sweet smell was the unmistakable reek of brimstone.  Tryst knelt by one of the beds, an assortment of medical supplies arranged about him.  Callindra approached him on cat’s feet, not making the slightest sound.  When she put her hand on his shoulder, he started slightly and looked up.

“Oh, Callindra.”  He said, his voice thick with weariness.  “You startled me.  I was nearly done here.  Nearly done.”

“Tryst.”  She hissed, “You need to get out of here!”

The closest figure sat up in bed.  He was a boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen, one strongly built but now his muscles hung loose on a frame ravaged by fever.  He looked at her and she saw his eyes for the first time.  They were pools of emerald fire.  “Water.”  He croaked.

Callindra whirled, rising from a kneeling position, drawing her sword and striking in the same motion (Dance of the Coiled Viper) and removed his head from his shoulders.  “GO damn you Tryst, they’re infected!”

“No, no, I was praying.  I used magic.  I’m sure…”  Tryst trailed off.  In spite of their size difference, Callindra hauled him to his feet and shoved him to the door grimacing at the pain as the cuts across her stomach tore their stitches open.  He seemed disoriented, as though he had no idea what was going on.

The second bedridden figure was struggling to rise against the heaps of blankets, and so was the third.  She panicked, turning from Tryst and only waiting long enough to see the shine of scintillating green beneath their eyelids before killing them as well.  A crash sounded from across the room and Callindra turned to see a nurse standing there, staring at her in horror with a tray of breakfast scattered on the floor at her feet.

Callindra ran to her, flinging the drops of blood off Brightfang’s blade with a practiced flick of her wrist.  Grabbing the nurse’s head she looked into her eyes and saw a flicker of burning green.

“No, it’s not in me.”  The nurse whispered, “I swear it’s not in me.”  She broke into tears, “Please, my fam-” Callindra didn’t hesitate any longer, she couldn’t allow herself to.  She cut the woman down.

Shaking with suppressed emotion, she went to where Tryst was leaning listlessly against the wall.  Reaching a trembling hand out, she lifted his face to look into hers.  Her heart nearly stopped.  His eyes had an emerald sheen to them.  Not a flickering flame like the others, but it was unmistakable.  Callindra let out a strangled sound, releasing him and raising her sword in both hands.

Could she do it?  Was he infected?  What if she didn’t kill him?  Once it took him over…  She gripped Brightfang so hard her knuckles hurt.  Her sword wavered in her grip and finally she let out an explosive breath.

“I can’t do it.”  She sobbed, letting her arms fall to her sides, “Gods and Demons, I killed them for the same but I can’t do it to you.”

Tryst shook his head and stared up at her, “What’s that?”  She looked at him again, his eyes were clear.  Dropping her sword, Callindra pried his eyelids wide and stared intently at them.  There was no sign of the green tint.  She couldn’t doubt herself.  The others had been infected, they HAD been.  She had done the right thing.

“We have to go.”  She said, “You need rest and these people… we need to go.”

“Callindra!”  Said Tryst, “Callindra what have you DONE?”  He was looking past her at the carnage she had left in her wake.

“They were infected Tryst.”  She said, “They would have killed you, killed me, killed us all!”  As if in response to her cries, one of the corpses began moving.

“Get out!” She shouted, “Get out NOW, you’re in no condition to handle this right now!”

“I’m not leaving you.”  He said quietly.

“Go.  Get.  The others.”  She said, her voice deadly quiet.  “You don’t even have a weapon or a shield, let alone your armor.  I can hold them but only for a short time.  GO!”

Tryst nodded grudgingly and ran as best he could.  The monsters that had been children threw off their bedding with violence that belied their size.  None of the former weakness remained, as if they had been storing the power taken by the fever and waiting to release it now.  Callindra grimly took Brightfang in a two handed grip and faced her enemies.

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 28

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Callindra fell back on her childhood skills, snaring rabbits with simple traps.  She was thankful for her practice skinning and preparing small game with nothing but Brightfang during her year in the wilderness.  Her companions were grateful and seemed slightly surprised, although she was glad of Cronos’s ability to cook.  Her efforts had always ended up tough and charred, but he had a knack for making even just a rabbit on a spit tender and juicy.

“So, does anyone know what Dergeras meant when he said the Fang in the Teeth of the Sky?”  Cronos asked, sprinkling some herb he had plucked onto the meat he was cooking.

“Yes.”  Said Vilhylm, surprising Callindra who had been about to say the same.  “It is an impregnable fortress in the mountains called the Teeth of the Sky.”

“Oh, well that sounds like bad news for us then.”  Cronos said.

“It was destroyed from the inside in the end.  Treachery and deceit, greed and the lust for power were what destroyed the Fang.”  Vilhylm said sadly.  “It has become a home for fell things, the lost souls of the ones who succumbed to that base nature are said to still stalk its hallways and courtyards.”

“Or what’s left of them.”  Callindra added somberly.  At the other’s startled looks, she shrugged.  “I read ‘The Rise and Fall of Invincibility’ once when I was laid up with a nasty injury.  It was a good warning about what can happen when you don’t surround yourself with reliable people and let the desire for power rule your actions.”

“I had no idea you were so well educated.” Tryst said, “I’ve not read that tome myself, however I know it was in the personal collection of my Biscop.  What else have you read?”

“Glarian brought me many books to read.”  She said in a subdued tone, “I never knew how valuable the lessons they contained would be, when he brought them I only thought of them as a way to pass the time during my convalescence.”

“He was a wise man.”  Tryst said, “He gave you the tools you would need to survive in the world, without you even knowing what he was doing.”

“And now I’ve abandoned him.”  She said dully, “Left him to suffer while I escape with my worthless life.”

“We are all born helpless.”  Said Vilhylm, “Doesn’t your training tell you to list your age as the amount of time you’ve been training?”

“I am not yet two years old.”  Callindra said automatically, and then paused.  “I suppose you have a point.”

“Some of us age faster than others.”  Vilhylm said, “You’re beyond training, the world is a harsh place.  You will either grow strong or you will perish.”

“Well that’s heartening.”  Cronos muttered, taking the meat from the fire.  “You aren’t going to die today at least, so how about we lighten the mood and eat.”

Callindra felt some of her anger dissipate as the banter of her friends soothed the hurt and loss away.  They were still with her.  She could become the person she needed to be in order to save her master.  “Just hold on old man.  Stay strong for me until I have the power to save you.”

–

The bear rose before them on its hind legs, roaring in animal rage.  An unpleasant memory flickered in the back of Callindra’s memory, but she forced it aside, now was not the time for reminiscence.  The beast must have young nearby to be acting like this, normally bears were docile and avoided contact with humans.

Brightfang sang in the air as she ducked under a paw that would have taken her head from her shoulders and the shock of the blade striking the animal’s leg with the combined strength of her swing and the bear’s.  Something wasn’t right here.

Tryst slammed his hammer into his shield, getting the bear’s attention and Vilhylm appeared from behind it, or at least Callindra thought it was Vilhylm.  His tall shape was covered in what seemed to be dripping mud.  With exaggerated motions, he slung gobs of the mucky mass to splatter on the bear’s feet.

The animal stumbled, the mud causing it to falter and give Cronos an opening which he used to sink the edge of his bastard sword deep into its side.  At the same time, Tryst struck from the other direction, his hammer fracturing bone.  The bear roared in anger, but seemed not to notice the grievous wounds.  Instead, it attacked the nearest target; in this case Callindra who had been sneaking up to deliver the killing stroke.

The bear’s claws raked her across the abdomen, tearing her armor and ripping into her flesh.  Agony seared through the wounds, but she kept her focus and struck with a blow that used every muscle in her body in one desperate stroke.  The sword strike Avalanche Down the Mountain removed the head from the shoulders.  Callindra saw a strange emerald fire die behind its eyes before they closed.

“That was strange.”  She said, wiping the blood from her sword and trying to ignore the pain of the slashes across her stomach.  They had torn through her armor and the skin beneath but thankfully only seemed to be minor thanks to the boiled leather of her breastplate.

“What was strange?”  Cronos asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“It was probably nothing.”  Said Callindra, “But its eyes seemed to be a weird glowing green color.”

“I thought I was only imagining it.”  He replied, bending over the dead animal, “I swear I saw the same thing.”

The corpse of the bear erupted into brilliant green flames.  Before they could react, the headless body began blindly striking out, sending Cronos and Callindra flying across the clearing.  She flipped in the air, grimacing in pain as the effort of righting herself to land on her feet caused white fire to spread across her wounded stomach muscles.

“Begone from here fell thing!”  Tryst shouted, his polished shield flashing with a white light of Divine origin.

In response, the bear turned swiftly, seeming to target him with unerring ease in spite of being headless.  The priest stood his ground, a grim look on his face.  Callindra started from her shocked state as she realized the young man was truly willing to die for them.  For her.

“Haiiiii!” A battle shout from ages before erupted from her throat and she flung herself forward, dropping to a knee at the last moment in a devastating stroke that split the undead animal’s Achilles tendons (Howl of the Winter Wolf).  It teetered uncertainly and at this moment, Tryst struck it a savage blow on its neck with his hammer.

“Oh hellteeth!” Callindra swore, trying to spring out of the way as her torn abdominal muscles gave out on her.  The finally unmoving corpse of the bear fell heavily on her, filling her nostrils with the stench of death and a strong smell of brimstone.

Once her friends had stopped laughing, they levered the beast’s carcass off her.  Callindra climbed painfully to her feet and wiped Brightfang on the bear’s fur before carefully sheathing him.

“There’s a small road over there.”  She said, pointing.  “Maybe there’s a village or something.”

“Are you hurt?” Tryst asked, concern on his too pretty face.

“Some cuts from the claws.”  Callindra said and grimaced, “Maybe some fractured ribs from when it struck me, or perhaps from when the bedamned thing fell on me.  Regardless I wouldn’t mind finding a town where we could at least purchase bedrolls if not tents and horses.”

A rustling sound caused them all to turn as one, A second bear flew out of the trees at them, moving at an astonishing rate but strangely silent.  Callindra could see emerald fire shining from its eyes.

Moving Brightfang in a whirling double arc to test her tender ribs, Callindra moved to intercept the creature, grimly intent on disabling it as quickly as possible.  Before she had taken a half dozen steps, Cronos barked three words of Arcane Power and a sheet of brilliant red fire burst from his outstretched fingertips, washing over the bear and burning it to a crisp.

As it tried to rise again, Vilhylm and Tryst smashed into it from either side, breaking bones and driving it to the ground.  Callindra looked at Cronos, who was rubbing his ribs and grimacing in pain.

“I didn’t want to deal with it.”  He said shortly, “Pretty sure the other one broke a couple of my ribs too.”

“I hope there aren’t any more of them.”  She said, looking around and not sheathing her sword just yet.

“Let’s get moving.”  Vilhylm said, no longer appearing to be covered in swamp muck.  “If there are other things that are … infected in the same way as this one we should try and find a place where we can take shelter.”

They began moving down the dirt track, looking around at every forest sound.  As they rounded a bend, the walls of a small keep came into view. The gate was closed and guards were on duty along the walls.  Callindra wondered if this was normal for a remote outpost such as this.  Normally her understanding was a city that engaged in regular commerce had the gates open all day.

“This feels wrong.”  Vilhylm said, glancing at the closed gates.  “Unless at war these gates should be open.  Where are the livestock?  Where are the workers tending the fields?”

Callindra followed his gaze and realized that the clearings they were walking through were paddocks and gardens, not just land logged for lumber or cleared for line of sight.  Weeds grew ankle high among the crops and there were no animals in the fenced paddocks.

They approached the gate and could see that the stone wall and stout wooden gate showed signs of recent damage.  A few scorch marks marred the seasoned wood above the steel banding that sheathed the bottom few feet of the door.  The soldiers on the walls trained nasty looking crossbows on them and called out for them to halt.

Tryst approached, his spotless white surcoat and gleaming shield shining like a beacon.  “We are weary travelers, wounded from fighting beasts upon the road and seeking shelter.”

“Come to the side door.” Came the curt reply from above.  Tryst complied, moving to a steel sheathed door bolted into the stone wall.  A slit opened with an oiled scrape of steel on steel.  “Look into the slit, I need to see your eyes stranger.”

“What is the reason for this treatment?”  Callindra demanded, “We are tired and injured!”

Tryst waved her to silence, “Remember the bears.”  He said and she thought of the emerald flame that burned in the infected beasts eyes.

“It can affect humans too?”  She whispered, the implications turning her blood to ice.

Tryst removed his helm and leaned forward to look through the slit in the door.  After a moment, the man on the other side gruffly told him to step aside and allow the next one to step forward.  Only when they had all been checked for burning green eyes were the heavy crossbows raised and door opened.

“No offense intended.” The guard said, “Those… things wreaked havoc before we figured out how to identify them.  We lost many.”

“I am a healer.”  Tryst said, “If you have wounded I can help.”

The guard looked at him, the suspicion in his eyes slowly being replaced by hope.  “I’ll take you to the mayor and then if he agrees you can see to our injured.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 27

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Callindra awoke in the pre-dawn glow just before sunrise, unwrapping herself from around Brightfang’s scabbard.  She was glad the others weren’t awake yet, her habit of cuddling her sword as though he was a lover was a tad embarrassing.  Standing quietly and stretching, she moved away slightly to avoid waking the others.  On her way out of camp she saw Felix stand from where he must have been standing guard.

“I’m gon ta go lass.  Yeh got things from here?”  He smiled at her, “Yeh truly do belong ta tha blade.”

“You mean he belongs to me?”  She said, finding his comment a bit disconcerting.

“Nah lass.  Yeh know as well’s I do tha yeh rely on tha blade.”  He shouldered his substantial pack and his feet sank visibly into the ground.  “I gotta go.  Take carea tha sword an he’ll take carea yeh in return.”  With that, he stood and took a single step that covered a hundred paces.  The next one spanned more than a mile.  I stared after him in astonishment.

Instead of wasting time trying to follow him, she walked to a small clearing a short distance from her sleeping friends and began her morning practice of the Korumn.  When she was complete she was sweating but energized and ready for the day.  Brightfang was singing when she sheathed him and Callindra felt close to the same herself by the time she returned to camp.

“Rise and shine boys!” She said as she entered camp.  The winds capered around the embers of last night’s fire and the kindling she tossed down burst into merry flames.  It wasn’t her turn to cook, but since the others were busy sleeping in she had a pot of water boiling and was getting ready to start the porridge by the time Vilhylm stopped her.

“Better you leave this to me.” He said, “Your last attempt at porridge was more suited to paving roads than breakfast.”  If she hadn’t been in such a good mood, Callindra would have taken offense… but he had a point.  She wasn’t the gods gift to cooking.

–

After two days of uneventful travel, they saw smoke on the horizon. “I think we’re only about a half day’s travel from a town.” Tryst said, frowning at his map.

“We could be there by midday.” Cronos said, hand on the hilt of one of his swords.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to get involved with an attack of that magnitude.” Vilhylm said, “I think there must be at least a hundred fires burning there.”

“We’re not going to turn our back on those people.” Tryst said, his voice grim. “Or at least I’m not going to.”

“We can handle it.” Callindra said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Anyone who’s cowardly enough to attack a defenseless town is no match for what we can dish out.”

They saddled their horses and rode out, setting the pace at a mile-eating trot. In a few hours they were looking down on the smoldering ruins of the small town of Cedar. Only one building was still intact, the streets were littered with bricks, fallen timbers and other detritus from the destruction.

As they dismounted, their horses snorted in fear and ran, pulling the reins from their hands. The reason for this fear was clear in moments as three dogs the size of ponies stalked into the street, growling menacingly. Their voices weren’t the most frightening thing about them though, their feet burned into the ground and smoke trailed from their nostrils.

“Hounds of Hell!” Tryst shouted, “Your will shall not be done this day!” A nimbus of silver light surrounded him and he began casting another spell while Callindra threw caution to the wind and ran at them, Brightfang whistling from his sheath in a shining arc.

As she approached, flanked by Vilhylm in his flowing black cloak, the Hounds unleashed a blistering blast of flame from their mouths. Vilhylm swirled his cloak around himself, avoiding the worst of the fire and Callindra vaulted high over the flames, their eager licking tongues singing her hair and clothes.

Then she was among them, Brightfang flashing red in the light of their fires. She struck the head of one completely off with a mighty overhand blow but the landing made her stumble. One of the beasts ran past her, leaping for Tryst but before it could bite him it shook its head uncertainly. His magic had confused it.

The momentary hesitation was all Cronos needed. He swung his sword in a blurring arc of steel and buried it halfway into the monster’s chest. It fell with a gurgle to twitch on the ground. He turned to look at the empty field of battle with a frown making his youthful face look old.

“This can’t have been all of them.” The youth said, “There’s no way a handful of dogs did all this damage, even if they could breathe fire.”

“Their handlers must be close.” Tryst agreed, “Monsters like these need close supervision.”

They moved through the streets of the town, weapons drawn and eyes open for danger. When they got to the center it became obvious that the fire raging in the central square was magical in nature. A huge pile of corpses was being devoured by roaring flames. Three figures stood looking at it with grim expressions on their faces.

“What happened here?” Tryst’s voice rang out in challenge. “Who are you and what have you to do with this massacre?” Callindra hadn’t heard true rage in her friend’s voice before and it was frightening.

“Who are you?” The leader said, “What do you have to do with the killings?”

Tryst fought to restrain himself and Callindra stepped forward instead. “I am Callindra, these are my companions Tryst, Vilhylm and Cronos. We have come from the city of BLARG on a mission from the high Biscop himself to-”

“Callindra! It is you!” One of the men stepped forward with a noticeable limp. “I heard rumors that you were still alive but I didn’t believe it until now.”

“Inspector Shojin!” Callindra exclaimed, staring at him with hatred. “How’s the knee?”

“I look forward to finding out what you know.” Shojin said with an evil smile, “I will find out, where the Sol ‘Estin is, as well as whatever else I want to know.”

“You’ll have to kill me.” She said, “I won’t allow you to take me alive!”

“Oh, I have a few things in mind little girl.” Said Shojin, “We have ways of-” He was interrupted by a blast of wind, harsh with the bitter cold blowing down from the Teeth of the Sky.

“You will do nothing to my apprentice!” A voice thundered and Glarian was there, arriving like a bolt of lightning out of a clear blue sky.

Callindra’s heart caught in her throat, she wanted to scream, wanted to cry but most of all to her surprise she wanted to run up and wrap her arms around him. The man she saw was different though. Gone were the slumped shoulders and slightly defeated demeanor, the figure that stood before her was like a honed blade.

“Ahh, Sol’Estin.” Shojin’s voice dripped malice, “How wonderful to see you.”

“Go Callindra, I can handle these insects.” Glarian said with a grim smile.

“No Master!” Callindra protested, “I will fight with you!” She ran toward the Inquisitors with Brightfang gleaming in her fist.

“I said STAY BACK!” Glarian shouted, pulling his Greatsword Sakar from his back. A blast of wind burst from his left hand, holding her back from the battle. He slammed his blade into the ground and shouted words of Arcane Power. A whirlwind sprang up between him and their enemies.

“Master!” Callindra’s voice cut through the roar of the gale. “At least take this back!” She took the leather cord that held his Sigil from around her neck and threw it toward him. It spun through the air, the leather thong looping around the hilt of Sakar where she was still driven into the earth.

The winds blew the tears of frustration from her face and she turned and ran. She knew she was too weak to help him fight and that the only way to be of any use was to leave. Callindra looked at her companions, all of whom were readying themselves for a fight and felt her heart rise at their resolve.

“No!” She yelled, “This is a fight we can’t win, we have to go! RUN!”

They paused in their flight at the top of a rise and took another look at the battlefield below. Glarian was surrounded now, his enemies flanking him in a triangle. The vortex of with that had kept them at bay now swirled menacingly above his head. Callindra felt something in the patterns of the winds change and screamed a warning that was impossible for him to hear.

“Master, look OUT!”

The swirling column of dust and debris above his head became pitch black and began to flash with brilliant

emerald green lightning. They watched in fear as it concentrated overhead, forming into the shape of a man. Dergeras dropped from the suddenly still air, landing behind Glarian with serpentine grace, a sword of glittering green fire in his fist.

“NO!” Callindra screamed, her throat tearing.

As if warned by her shout, Glarian turned with inhuman speed, leaping out of the way just before the emerald sword cut him in half. Instead of ending his life, Dergeras’s blade rebounded off Sakar with a resounding clang that they felt more than heard.

“Run you fool girl, RUN!” Her master’s voice whispered in her ear, “I can’t hold for long against Dergeras. You have to get as far away as possible before he realizes you four are gone. He doesn’t want me he wants you.”

“We have to go.” She choked her tears off, wiping them of with an angry hand. “He’s holding Dergeras off so we can escape.”

“But isn’t he going to die?” Cronos asked in his usual blunt manner. “I mean that demon killed me before.”

“Don’t compare yourself to him.” She laughed in spite of her frustration and fear, “He is in a league of his own.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” At the tone of his voice, Callindra glanced over her shoulder. Glarian was suspended in the air, crucified on a cross of emerald flame.

Without hesitation she turned to run back, to help him, to do something. Hands gripped her arms, holding her back and she fought with every fiber of her strength. There were screams of anger and fear ringing in her ears. Her screams.  

“I will be waiting for you little girl. When you want to pick up the scraps that remain of this old man meet me at the Fang in the Teeth of the Sky.”

“Callindra we have to go. We have to GO!” Tryst was shouting. He and Vilhylm were pulling her back from the edge of the cliff. Had she just been about to leap off that precipice?  

She allowed them to pull her back, her brow creasing in sorrow when she noticed the sword wounds on her friend’s arms and the blood dripping down Brightfang’s length. “I’m sorry.” She said, her apology attempting to encompass them, her Master, her inability to do anything.

“Later. We can discuss it later.” Tryst said.

“It is nothing.” Said Vilhylm, “They are just scratches.” She now saw the blood on his arm as well.

“That thing isn’t a man.” Cronos said, and then continued almost grudgingly. “But that man you call Master seems stronger than most. We will find a way to help you if we can, but staying here is suicide and dead people can’t help anyone.”

Seeing that Callindra was coming with them of her own volition now, the two men let her go. They all ran, having to leave their horses and gear behind. It was a bitter defeat, but this only sought to increase the emotion Callindra felt building inside herself. The shame and fear she had been feeling were being replaced by a burning desire for revenge.  

Random Gaming Fiction Part 1

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“I can’t understand it.”  Solflame says, leaning close and inspecting Xyrella’s body.  “The dress is still here, but I can’t remove it and I can’t figure out what was making it like flame.”

“I’m not worried about the damn dress.”  She snaps, “Why am I mortal?”

He takes a step back and looks at her.  She is closing the thick woolen robe back around her body and the faint outline of smoke or cinders that used to be a wonderful dress of Ethereal fire.  Mortal she may be, but she was still amazingly beautiful.

Hair that had once appeared to be spun gold now was merely blonde.  Eyes that had been solid violet were now sky irises with whites, like normal human eyes.  Although they were covered now, the long gashes on her back where her wings of fire and light had once sprouted were troubling in that they refused to heal completely.  Her shadow was a normal looking shadow, not moving on its own and her clothes no longer seemed to move in an unseen wind.

“I don’t know that either.”  He says, “Tiamet must have somehow distilled the Celestial qualities from your blood and removed them or contained them somehow.”

The room was hot enough that Solflame had needed to sheath himself in magic to keep his skin from blistering.  Xyrella, on the other hand, had donned a silk shift and was wrapping herself in wool but still shivering.  “Are mortals always this cold?”  She said, teeth chattering.

“My dear Lady Xy, it is hot enough in here to cook meat.  The fact that your skin isn’t blistering and that you are instead cold is as puzzling to me as the rest of this mystery.”  He replied, “Perhaps Jolokar will be able to tell more when he arrives.”

At this she brightened visibly, “Jolokar is coming?  I’ve missed him… much more than I anticipated if truth be known.”

“Would you miss me if I was gone?”  Solflame said, half-jokingly and she smiled at him.

“Of course I’ll miss you once you’re gone.”  She said, smiling sadly.  “I miss all my mortal friends after they die.”

Solflame opened and closed his mouth a time or two, not having an immediate response, but Xyrella was already curling back under the thick blankets on her bed.  The translucent magic of the wall showed the lava flow that surrounded the chamber she had chosen to be her room.

“I can be immortal as well.”  He said softly to himself as he climbed the ladder.  “I know Orestain had found the means to extend his life long enough that he was as near as immortal as makes no difference.  There must be something in the library.”

–

Jolokar approached the Burning Keep on the wing, circling once and sending a short Arcane message to the guards to avoid any unpleasantness as he landed at the front gate in a rush of wind.  Xyrella’s magical protections slid over his skin like a lover’s caress as he walked into the front gate.

She had created layers of protection on the Keep, especially at the front entrance, that would greatly discourage anyone who was evil or attempting to deceive the Keep or its denizens with magic.  Feeling them touch him was like a welcoming embrace.

Gorblam was waiting for him when he entered the Keep proper.  “Jolokar.  I need ta speak with ya.”

“Certainly Gorblam.”  Jolokar said, “I will be happy to meet with you as soon as I’ve had the chance to check in on how Lady Xyrella Kra’alin is recovering.”

The Azer nodded curtly, “She’s in tha Lava Research room.”  He said before going back to his beloved forest of brass trees and the forges of the Keep.  Jolokar made his way to where Xyrella rested, activating his heat resistance aura as he crossed the thin catwalk of stone and descended the ladder into the chamber.

Xy was sleeping and he took a moment to look at her.  She looked terrible.  Her cheeks were sunken and she had dark circles beneath her eyes.  Well, that and she was still mortal.  The dishwater blonde hair and pink skin wasn’t unattractive, but it was a far cry from the flawless alabaster and metallic gold her Celestial blood had granted her.

In spite of the magic protecting him, Jolokar still felt the heat.  Xyrella shivered beneath plies of wool blankets.  He leaned forward to put a hand on her forehead and was shocked to find it cold.  Her eyes opened and she stared up at him.

“Oh!”  She said, surprise and happiness in her voice, “Jolokar, it’s wonderful to see you.  I’m sorry you have to find me like this…”

“You feel chilled to the bone.” He said, looking at her in concern, “How can you be this cold?”  Jolokar felt the unaccustomed grip of fear in his chest.  He knew this woman as the Righteous Flame of the Dragon Lord personified on the Prime Material Plane, and now she was as cold as ice.  Even in this fortress, with its direct connection to the elemental plain of Lava she shivered.

“I do not know why.”  Xyrella said through chattering teeth, “I just can’t get warm.”

Jolokar used his divine power to feel her body and her spirit.  The moment it touched her, he felt the power drain from him as though being devoured by a ravenous beast.  By the time he was able to pull away he staggered and almost fell from exhaustion.  His Auras were even depleted and the intense heat of the room made him dizzy.

“Fang and Scale!”  He gasped, “What was that?”

Xy was shaking uncontrollably now, convulsing with cold.  Frost formed on her eyelashes and her breath was ice crystals.  Jolokar nearly lost himself to panic, but mastered his fear with pure force of will.

“I’m going to get Solflame and Raddinal.”  He rasped, “This is beyond me.”  He was barely able to drag himself up the ladder.  When he reached the top he saw Solflame already hurrying toward him.

“I felt something… what was that?” The mage asked, his thread of gold embroidered robes billowing as he hurried up, “Whatever it was, I think it was… hostile!  How can something hostile have gotten into the Keep without my knowledge?”

“It was Xy.”  Jolokar said, still shaking from exhaustion.  “She almost killed me.”

“She… WHAT?” Solflame exclaimed, “What did you do to provoke her?”

Jolokar began walking toward the rooms he had claimed on the other side of the lava flow.  “I tried to delve her with healing magic.  To see what was wrong.  Something inside her tried to take my energy.  All of it.”

“Did it warm her up at all?”  Solflame asked, not even seeming to notice Jolokar’s enfeebled state, “She’s so cold no matter what I do…”

“No.”  Jolokar said, his voice harsh with worry and fatigue.  “It made her colder.  Much colder.”

“Maybe because you have ice powers.  Maybe she stole your ice powers and it only increased whatever’s building inside her.”  Solflame mused, “Damn, I need a priest with the power of flame to test… Of course!  I’ll go and get Gorblam!”

“Be careful.”  Jolokar warned, “She was shaking so hard I was afraid she was going to hurt herself.  If he makes it worse…”

“I’ll make sure to have him be very delicate, ready to break free at the first sign of a problem.”  Solflame assured him, “Now you get some rest, you look like shit.”

Jolokar took a deep breath, sending a prayer to Bahamut and felt his trembling cease as the strength of his God support him.  “I’ll be fine.  The Dragon Lord has work for me yet this day.  I would be with her when we try this experiment.  I do not know if I can help if anything goes wrong but…” He trailed off, not knowing how to express the dread that threatened him when he thought of Xyrella dying.

“Yeah, sure.”  Solflame said, his mind already trying to unravel the puzzle.  “You go back to her and I’ll bring Gorblam.”

Jolokar returned to find the room where Xyrella was huddled foggy and strange.  He couldn’t see all the way to the bed where she lay.  He beat his wings twice, the motion of the air circulating clearing most of the fog and he saw Xy’s bed was covered in rapidly evaporating ice.

Running to her side, he pulled the blankets from her, sending a shower of ice to splatter against the walls with a hiss of steam.  Jolokar picked up the freezing form with a cry, lifting her so that he could hold her close to the wall of lava and the waves of heat that emanated from it.

Gradually, the heat from the lava seemed to begin to thaw her.  In spite of his immunities and protections, Jolokar could feel the frostbite on his arms and chest where he cradled her as well as the blistering on his skin where the heat was burning him.  He didn’t care.

“You can’t die on me.  Not like this.”  He said, voice shaking.  “Not after all we’ve been through.  We won damn it.  We defeated the Dragon Queen and it was you that banished her soul back to the pit where it belongs.  You can’t….”

“Easy laddie.”  Gorblam’s rough voice was surprisingly gentle, “Lemme have a look here.  Put tha Lady on tha bed over here.”

The intense heat of the room had cleared the bed of all ice; not even water remained.  The Azer looked around, a slight frown on his face, “Why’s it so damn hot in here?  This ain’t right.  Not right at all.  Solflame I thought ya said she was cold!”

“She’s freezing.”  Jolokar said, “The heat in here is too much even for me and yet she’s freezing.”  He set her on the bed, thankful that some of the deathly pallor seemed to have faded from her skin.  Her lips were still blue and her short, shallow breaths still had puffs of ice crystals in them.

Gorblam lay his hand on Xyrella’s forehead and drew it back almost instantly with a hiss of alarm.  “This is bad.  Very very bad.  Solflame, I want you to look with your truesight and tell me what you see.”

“My what?”  Solflame asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The spell you have that allows you to see all things as they are.”  Gorblam said impatiently.

“I have done so already, it didn’t reveal anything to me.”  He said, but Gorblam gestured impatiently and the mage incanted the spell.  His eyes began to glow with a dull red fire.  When he looked at Xy he gasped aloud, “It’s consuming the power… I must not have been able to see it before because it was so small…”

“What is it?”  Jolokar asked, looking at the other two.  “What’s eating the power?  What power is it eating?”

“I’m not sure what it is, but it’s feeding off the power of the Burning Keep.”  Solflame said, “It uses that arcane energy to convert her power over fire into cold somehow.”

“We need to fly then.” Said Jolokar, “The power of this place only extends so far.  Once we are outside its influence perhaps this evil inside of her will die.”

“Or perhaps it will begin to do worse.”  Solflame warned, “I haven’t ever seen anything like this before.   Raddinal and I will do research.  I will make sure to contact you if I find anything.  Make sure you watch her carefully for signs of worsening.”

Xyrella’s eyes fluttered open and she stared around the room in bewilderment before settling on Jolokar.  “You’re not leaving are you?”  The note of uncertainty and fear in her voice was almost as unnerving as her condition.

“This can’t be the same woman I saw threaten Tiamet herself with banishment and then dismiss her like a petulant child.”  He said, managing to make himself sound confident and sure, “I’m leaving and you’re coming with.  Think of it as a well-earned vacation.”

She smiled, looking more like her old self and sat up.  He took a small Sandalwood box from his belt pouch, offering it to her with a flourish.

“What’s this?”  She asked, looking suspiciously at him.

“It’s not a replacement, but… it’s something.” He said with a smile.

She withdrew a dress of jet black material that flowed like woven water and sparkled as though it had diamonds woven into it.  She laughed in delight, “Jolokar, it’s beautiful!  It will be like wearing the starry night sky.  Thank you.”

Without any hint of modesty, she took off the thick wool robe and silk shift which fell to the floor with the tinkle of breaking ice.  The dress fit her like second skin, and for the first time since the Battle of the Adder Peaks, she almost looked like herself again.

“Thank you for all you’ve done Solflame.  Take care of the place with him Gorblam.”  She said, and turned to smile up at Jolokar, “Lets go.  I’m ready.”

Gorblam watched the two of them leave and then glanced at Solflame.  The wizard had a strange, troubled look on his face.  It was a mixture of regret, hope and a twinge of jealousy.

“Well.  I have some research to do.”  Solflame said, with a decisive shake of his head. “Let me know if you need anything.  I’ll be in the library.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 26

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They were setting up camp, two days out of Lin Lamorak when a stranger stepped into their camp.  Callindra jumped and almost dropped her smoldering pipe; she hadn’t heard him approach which was amazing since he carried a pack that was twice as tall as he was.  He stopped just inside their firelight and hailed them.

“Ho the camp!  Cn I share yer fire?”

“Of course stranger, we welcome any friendly travelers.”  Tryst said, standing and intentionally revealing the heavy hammer hanging from his belt.

“Heh, nah need ta worry lad.  If ah meant ya harm yeh’d be dead.”  The man walked further into the firelight and

Callindra gasped.  This man wasn’t human.  He was short and stocky; his arms were as thick as her thighs and he had a long beard woven into two wide braids clasped with heavy silver beads.  Dark eyes gleamed from under bushy eyebrows and a leather cap covered unruly hair that was also fell in braids that reached past his waist.  She had read about Dwarves but had assumed they were a myth.

“Mah name’s Felix.” The Dwarf said, setting his pack down with a thud that they could all feel more than hear.  He pulled a chair made from canvas and wooden poles out of a pocket on the side of his enormous bag and sat down with a satisfied sigh.

“I’m Tryst.  This is Vilhylm, Cronos and Callindra.” Tryst said, indicating his companions in turn.  “Well met master Felix, we have rabbits roasting and trail bread.”

“Ah ain’t no master.” Felix said, “But thanks fer th hospitality.  Ah have some salad greens an carrots t offer in return.”  He turned and rummaged in his pack, pulling out a burlap sack of carrots and an armful of fresh lettuce.

“Where did you get fresh produce?” Callindra said, her eyes round.

“So.  What’s a Wind Dancer, a priest of the Old One, an Archmage’s apprentice and a Mask Master doin together?”  Felix asked with a friendly grin, ignoring Callindra’s question.

“Your eyes see much.”  Vilhylm said, looking at the Dwarf from the depths of his cloak’s hood.  “How did you know any of that?”

“Was pretty obvious.  Yer cloak has pockets of tha right size and yeh cover yer face, tha girl’s a gale in a bottle an has tha winds allus playin tricks, tha boy’s leaking power I ain’t seen since tha last war an if yeh don’t know what tha holy symbol of tha Old One is then yeh need an education.”  He turned to look at Callindra, “Is that Karalan Imperialis girl?”

“Yes it is.”  She said, feeling a little over whelmed by the concise dissection of their group.  “Would you like some?”  All things considered she couldn’t help, feeling a kinship with someone who smoked the same leaf as her Master.

“Ah ain’t had the Imperial blend for ages.”  Felix said, eyes twinkling.  “Ah’d love some.”  The Dwarf took a short stemmed pipe with a wide bowl made of dark red stone from a pocket and Callindra passed him her pouch of tac.  He packed the bowl and it lit on its own.

“So… where are you headed?” Tryst asked as Callindra turned from their unusual guest to turn the roasting rabbits.

“Noplace special.  Just out collecting.”  Felix said, puffing contentedly on his pipe.

Cronos looked up from where he was shredding the lettuce and slicing carrots to make a salad.  “Collecting what?” He asked suspiciously.

“Whatever ah find that ah don’t have yet.” The Dwarf said with a shrug, “It’s getting harder to find things like tha though.  Just tother day though a man played a song he’d composed that he’d never played for anyone else.  Tha was an interesting thing to keep.”

“How can you keep a song?”  Callindra asked, “That’s not possible.”

Felix stared off into the distance for a moment, streams of smoke trailing from his nostrils.  “Wen ya go to tha High Forest don’t go through the Wastes.  It’s tha shortest way but it ain’t safe.”

“How did you know that’s where we were heading?”  Tryst asked, his hand straying toward the handle of his hammer.

Callindra shifted her shoulders slightly to allow Brightfang’s hilt to fall to within easy reach of her left hand and she could see Vilhylm reaching into a pocket for a mask.  Cronos actually drew his longsword with a dangerous rasp of steel.  Felix knew too much for this to be coincidence.

“Nah don’t get yer nickers in a twist.”  Felix said, folding his massively muscled arms over his chest.  “Knowin things is what I do.  Tha girl was kind enough to share some of her smoke with me so I gave her somethin in return.”

They still stared suspiciously at him, Cronos taking a half step to the side so as to be in the Dwarf’s blind spot.  Felix seemed totally at ease where he sat, still calmly smoking his pipe.  “Yer coneys are gonna burn.”  He said, looking at the fire.  When they still didn’t move he sighed.  “I jus visited Tyreen.  She mentioned sommat about a group heading ta tha High Forest.  Sounded interesting so I caught up with ya.”

Callindra moved to take the rabbits off the flame so their dinner wouldn’t be ruined.  She set them of a flat slab of stone nearby to cool and then looked at the others.  “If he wanted to hurt us, I think he would have done it already.  Cronos, really, put up your blade.  From what I’ve read of Dwarves we would likely have a hard time stopping him if he did wish us harm, although I’d love to spar with him… just to see.”

Felix chuckled, “She’s a feisty one ain’t she?”

“What?  In Vlarias’s The Art of Combat he mentions a Dwarf holding a doorway against hundreds of foes on his own for an entire day.  My Master keeps telling me I need to build up my stamina; sparring with someone with that kind of constitution would be…”  She trailed off, embarrassed.

“I ain’t heard anyone talk of Vlarias in years.  Tha blowhard was generally fulla hot air, but once ya got a couple of drinks in him he weren’t so bad.”  Felix said, “Oh speakin a drink…” He opened one of the many flaps on the side of his pack and pulled out a small keg.  Callindra blinked; the pocket he had withdrawn the keg from should not have been able to hold something that large.  From the same pocket, the Dwarf produced a pewter ale jack for each of them.

“You KNEW Vlarias?  Like personally?”  Callindra asked, going over his words in her mind. “He died over fifty years ago.  How old are you?”

“Old nough.”  Felix grunted and broached the cask with a practiced bash of his fist.

As Felix dipped out mugs of a rich brown ale, Callindra drew her sword and quickly quartered the rabbits.  She was so used to using him for everything that she didn’t even think of using a knife.  Carefully wiping the blade with a scrap of cloth before sheathing him again.

“Where.  Did yeh get one of Beliach’s blades?”  Felix’s voice had a dangerous note to it; an implicit threat that made Callindra shiver.  Nonetheless she forced herself to look him squarely in the eye.

“He was a gift.  My Master gave him to me.”  The winds gusted around her, flaring the fire and making her hair whip back from her face.  Callindra let herself slip into the Ready Stance; a relaxed seeming posture that would allow her to respond to whatever was coming quickly.  “What do you know about the smith?”

“He stole somethin from my clan.”  The Dwarf rumbled, “Ah been lookin for him.”

“Well that doesn’t have anything to do with me.  I just needed a blade that could withstand my fighting style.”  And her magic, but he didn’t need to know about that.

“Fer Beliach ta make yeh a blade yeh gotta visit him.”  Felix said, narrowing his eyes.  “He’s gotta get ta know yeh so he can make sure the weapon matches.  Where is he?”

“I don’t know.  I never visited him at all, on the one year anniversary of my apprenticeship my Master gave me Brightfang.  He said that Beliach owed him a favor or something but didn’t have time to tell me anything else because the Inquisitors attacked…”  Damn it, there she went again.  Why couldn’t she keep control of her tongue?

Felix stood from his chair faster than his bulk would suggest was possible.  With effort, Callindra matched his speed, performing a perfect backflip over the fire, the winds nearly extinguishing the flames and blowing up a cloud of sparks.  She landed lightly on the balls of her feet with Brightfang glittering in her hands.  The Dwarf blurred with speed and she struck where she thought he would be instead of where she thought he was.

With a harsh metallic clang, Brightfang stopped as though he had struck solid stone.  Felix had caught the blade between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand.  He stared at her up the curved length of the blade, his eyes intense.  Brightfang whined in protest then fell silent when the Dwarf flicked the blade with his other hand.

“Yer good girl.  What do ya really know bout Glarian?” He said, looking at her with eyes that seemed carved from flint.

Callindra tried to withdraw her sword, but she might as well have tried to lift a mountain.  “Who is Glarian?”  She asked defiantly.  Behind Felix, her companions had drawn weapons and were cautiously approaching them.

“This blade says yer his apprentice.  Tha winds say tha same.  Nobody else would dare call in favors from Beliach, an besides, yeh have his fighting style in spite of usin a blade a quarter the size of his and yer bonded ta this pigsticker.”

“I know he’s the best swordsman in the world.”  She retorted, “What do you know of him?”

Felix burst into laughter, surprising them all.  “Yeh really are fiesty ain’t ya?  Ya shoulda been trained by fire with that spirit, but I spose wind fits yeh too.  Yeh have a hard road ahead a yeh girl, but ah think yeh got what it takes to travel it.”  He released her sword and turned back to the others.

“Na need ta worry.  Ah knew it was too easy for me ta find Beliach like this.  She don’t know where he is.”  With that, the Dwarf returned to his seat, passing between the others as though he had nothing to worry about in spite of the weapons in their hands.

Cronos looked at Tryst, his eyes clearly asking if they were just going to let this slide.  Tryst glanced at Vilhylm and Callindra, and she shook her head slightly and sheathed Brightfang.  The others relaxed slightly, except for Cronos who still eyed Felix suspiciously.

“So what did this smith supposedly steal from your people?” Cronos demanded.

Felix regarded him for a moment before answering.  “He stole the captive demon we used to fire our Adamantine Forge.  It happened right at the same moment that we were assaulted by an ancient Black Dragon.  We have a hard time thinking it might be coincidence.”

They were all quiet for a few moments and then Cronos sheathed his swords.  “Fine.  Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Callindra released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and took her hand off Brightfang’s hilt and they all settled down for a relatively calm dinner.  After eating, Callindra and Felix filled their pipes once more and sat smoking contentedly.

“Yeh cn all sleep tonigh, Ah’ll keep watch in return fer th meal.” Felix said, “Yeh all look like yeh could use it.”

“I’m not one to turn down a good night’s sleep.”  Tryst said, “Today was fairly taxing.”  The others didn’t seem to share his apparent trust, but still rolled into their blankets without complaint.

More Random Fiction

/ thebenraven / 2 Comments

This is a little piece I wrote for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign… it started out with an intro for a character that spiraled out of control and into a full blown court case.  Hope you enjoy…

The waiting room outside Diege’s court is full, several men and women are pacing up to look at the bronze plaque posted next to the door.  The bell tolls the noon hour and a man in chainmaile with the livery of city guard steps out, announcing the first case.  While Owin, Khaladin, Rohk and Chiva all wait, Luag’s complaint is listed second on the list, they take in the scene.

The plaque is new, and engraved upon it are the following words.  ‘When you enter here, the power of the Dragon Lord Bahamut will encourage your words to be true and the Flames of Truth shall reveal falsehood.  Speak no word that is a lie and you shall find justice.’

The bailiff comes out and speaks their names in turn, calling the four of them to come present their evidence in the case of Luag Seitheach vs Fredrick Tornbarr.  When they pass through the door of the courtroom, a shiver runs down their spines as they feel the power of the magic surround them.

Sitting on a high backed chair of carved and polished walnut with purple cushions behind a desk of graninte, Diege Hamira holds a silver gavel in her hand.  She wears the embroidered purple and gold mantle of Magistrate.  To right stands an imposing figure in gleaming gold washed platemaile armor, the surcoat of Knight Captain Commander over the top, and the battered, leather worn hilt of an Orcish Greataxe over his shoulder.

His helm is clipped to his belt, and his jutting lower tusks, coarse black hair and greenish cast to his skin make his Orc heritage quite apparent.  This is the first time some of you have seen the city’s Battle Commander, Gerad Skullcrusher and his visage is, to say the least, a shock to Owin.  The Dwarf wisely keeps his mouth shut, but even so, as Gerad’s eyes sweep over the group they linger on him for just a moment and Owin jerks a bit when the massive Half-Orc meets his eyes and gives him a deliberate wink before turning his attention back to the room.

“We are here to discuss the incident that occurred during the Battle of Adder Peak on the afternoon of the Seventeenth day of Eleint, Year 1489.”  A voice from Diege’s other side says crisply and a man in a black scholar’s robe with purple and gold embroidery around the cuffs and hem steps forward.  He is almost completely unremarkable, and most find themselves feeling trust for him without any real reason to do so.

“Now then, first we call the accuser, Luag Seitheach forward to give his accounting and make a formal accusation.”  The black robed man says.

“Thank you Dethnar.”  Diege says, motioning toward Gerad who exits through a side door, returning after a moment.  On one side is Fredrick, dressed in simple green velvet.  On the other is Luag, still wearing the flag of Bahamut as a kilt and using the broken battle standard as a staff.  Upon entry, Gerad takes the staff and leans it against the door.

“Please approach and give your complete account of events.”  Diege says, her eyes taking in the flag with a twitch of annoyance.

“When shall I begin?”  Luag asks, coming to stand before the three.  A tattoo of the White Stag of Oberon shines on his skin, glittering like moonlight on calm waters and a wreath of Brightstar flowers grows and twines through his flaming red hair.  Covering his arms and torso dark, almost iridescent blue tattoos form wild patterns.  The pseudo dragon perches on his shoulder, her head peering around the room in interest.

“At the beginning of the time relevant to this event, and up to where your accusation has been made please.”  Dethnar says, pulling an eagle feather quill from a drawer and turning a roll of parchment that scrolls over his desk, allowing him to write a great deal of information without changing paper.

Luag puts his hands behind his back, clearing his throat before beginning. “On the afternoon of the 17th day of Eleint year 1489 DR, I was fishing on the banks of a small tributary of the River Ashara.  I had caught several trout and was cleaning them when I felt a pain in my chest the likes of which I had not felt before.

“My vision was obscured by blinding light, and then all sensation left my body.  I knew somehow that I was traveling, but was unable to ascertain how or where I was going.  Within moments, I was looking down on a battlefield and my vision was drawn to two figures, a man and a half-dragon.

“A white flash blinded my eyes and I found myself in front of the half-dragon, the man at my feet and the half-dragon’s weapons covered in his blood. I could tell that my body had sustained wounds that brought me in danger of perishing, and using my gifts sought to put the creature to sleep.  I did not see the weaker troglodytes behind the hulking figure filling my vision, and my magic affected them first instead of my intended target.

“The people I now know as Khaladin Flameblessed Dohrohk uanye ehricherdir (Green Knight), Chiva, and Terrivangian dispatched the creature with ease and the dwarf Owin Stonebrew ministered to my wounds with great efficiency and care.  The immediate danger past, I then examined myself and noticed the outline of a circle on my chest above my heart… and felt the arcane connection pulling me toward Lord Frederick.

“Lord Frederick was unconscious but alive, so I did a quick examination and found an identical circle on his chest as well.  I was able to determine that these rings were the catalyst that brought me 1500 miles across the sea of stars and away from my home, and fishing rod.  Realizing I was on a battlefield once more and against troglodytes and half-dragons, I joined my rescuers in the battle.

“After victory was achieved, I quickly sought rest after a promise of a more thorough examination of the link between Lord Frederick and myself in the morning.  Upon awakening Owin Stonebrew and Khaladin Flameblessed attempted to remove the ring from my chest by cutting it out, which we learned is impossible.

“With Owin and Khaladin I went to question Lord Frederick, and after persuading him to cooperate he confessed to meeting my mother 46 years ago and conceiving me… and when my mother came to him with the baby he convinced her to allow this shackle to be placed in my chest.  It was then that I called for him to be bound by law.”

Dethnar’s pen scratches on the paper for a few more moments before he glances at Diege who nods.  “Thank you Luag.  Are you aware of the import of these charges?  What the punishment for such a thing in these lands would be?”

“I have read your laws, and find them adequate with regards to slavery and compulsion against an unwilling person.  The punishment does give me pause however.” Luag says,  “If Lord Frederick is deemed guilty by Lady Diege and the punishment is carried out before I am able to get the offending artifact removed from my person what I have been able to discern about the nature of these rings causes me to believe that the bond would first kill me, before finally ending his life.”

“Beyond that, he also has a family and while his sons…” Dethnar pauses with an apologetic shrug of the shoulders, “His legitimate sons, are of age to inherit there is still the matter of their care and the title.  You don’t seem to me to be the type who would take to the life of a Lord.”

“Nor do I seek it, I feel sympathy for his family… and in a way for him as well.  I do not excuse his actions, for they pain me more than you can know… but the state of a man that is driven to do that to part of his own flesh puts a sadness in my heart just thinking of it.  When Lord Frederick decided to use magic and an enchanted item in a negative way to try to protect his life in the future he became subject the threefold law; that I cannot change.”

“I do however find myself across this continent with little idea on how I would return home… or if that is my best course of action at this point.  Well do I know the myriad and twisted path a life walks before it is done in this world, perhaps there is something I am meant to learn here…But without a way to sustain myself easily any course of action I would choose to take seems daunting, I am a cub left in the bushes with no one to care for me, naked and alone.”

“Interesting metaphor.”  He mutters, writing some more with his pen.  “I have no further questions.  Lady, please call in the next witness.”

“Sir Khaladin, please approach and give your account.”  Says Diege, taking a drink from a water glass on her desk.

Khaladin glances around the room when called upon, looking for Jolokar and not seeing him here.  Ignoring his feeling of unease, Kal walks to stand before the desk, giving a sharp salute.  Diege waves it away, and bids him be at his ease.

Standing at Parade Rest Kal begins his prepared recitation.  “On 17th day of Eleint year 1489 DR I, Khaladin Flameblessed, Knight of the Order of the Flame and Green Knight of the Methwood, was attached to the Third Corps, Second Division, Fourth Brigade, First Regiment as Squad Leader of Wolf Squad.  Our mission was as reserves and a tactical support team in the event of breaches in the line.

“We were placed under the command of Lord Frederick Thornbarr along with the other Tactical Squads assigned to Fourth Brigade.  At approximately 1030 in the morning the Army of Engelstad, and her allies, arrived at the Winding River where my Squad and other advanced elements crossed the river ahead of the army to repel any potential threats to the crossing.  No assaults happened and we advanced upon the mountain.

“We then marched with the army and the opposing army was sighted at approximately 1400 hours by advanced scouts.  At approximately 1530 hours battle was joined.  We remained in reserve and after battle was joined with the army of Troglodites the Half-Dragon abominations they had hid in reserve began to fall upon our rank and file, disrupting the lines.

“First Regiment was unmolested by the Half-Dragons.  Lord Frederick had observed a Half-Dragon land among the ranks of Second Regiment and they had broken and started to retreat before its’ powerful breath weapon.  Lord Thornbarr charged the beast and cried out for a charge which alerted us to its’ presence.  He was well ahead of us when I lead my squad along with Terrivangian in a charge at the Half-Dragon.

“As we attempted to catch and overtake our commander in his brave but reckless charge we urged the fleeing troops to mount a counteroffensive and after much urging Rohk Stonebrew was able to rally them behind us.

“Lord Thornbarr reached the Half-Dragon well before us and using the battle standard as a spear attempted to slay the beast.  He was unsuccessful.  Lord Frederick Thornbarr was then nearly decapitated by the foul spawn of Tiamat and fell at its feet.  I assumed he had surely perished.

“There was a blinding light then and a naked man, Luag here, (points to Luag) appeared and disrupted a charging line of Troglodites with a well-placed spell.  I observed the newcomer appeared to be grievously wounded, blood coming from wounds on his body. Miraculously, Lord Thornbarr’s neck wound was healed and he appeared to be breathing.  I called for a medic and ordered him removed to the casualty tents.

“As we charged the Half-Dragon to avenge our fallen commander an restore the integrity of the battle line my Squad worked with amazing efficiency and it did not have a chance to so much as raise a finger before it was slain.

“We then returned to our Regiment and provided aid and support in the battle line and behind until the day was won.  The next morning Owin Stonebrew, a camp surgeon, and I attempted to remove the ring grafted under Luag’s skin in a surgery tent.  We were unsuccessful.

“Luag confronted Lord Thornbarr about the magic of the ring and I heard him admit he had placed it under Luag’s skin when he was but a babe and that he was Luag’s father. I filed a written report with my order that evening and have supplied copies to the court.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, meeting Diege’s eyes.  “Is there anything else your Ladyship requires of me?”

“You were present when Lord Thornbarr admitted to being Luag’s father?”  Dethnar says, finishing his sentence and looking up from his writing.

“I was sir, and I must say it was as much of a shock to me as it likely was to you.”  Kal says, shaking his head slightly.

“Interesting.”  Dethnar says.

“Thank you Sir Khaladin.”  Diege says and he steps back.

“It is my understanding that one Terrivangian, has given a written testimony as he is unable to attend.  Is that correct?”  Dethnar asks.

Gerad lets loose short snort of laughter before composing himself.  He hands Diege a piece of folded parchment.  On the back is an army shipment manifest.  Diege’s mouth turns up slightly at the corners and she reads aloud.

“That Fredrick coyote should be hamstrung and left for the ravens, however I understand that might hurt the one he made his slave.  Cage and muzzle him, but by the Hart do not allow him on a field of battle again.  Courage without ability is suicide, he fights like a newborn pup chasing a grasshopper and is as likely to bite his own tail as not.  The fight was disappointing, the Alpha knows what happened.  Alpha’s know how to deal with cowards and idiots.”

“Colorful.”  Dethnar says, “May I see that please?”

Diege hands him the note and he looks at both sides.  When he reads what Terr has written his brow furrows.  “I do not understand all of his diction, but his penmanship is quite precise.  Who is this ‘Alpha’ he refers to?”

Kahladin clears his throat, appearing slightly embarrassed and opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by Gerad.  “It is just his word for leader sir.”  Kal glances at him, grateful not to have had to try and explain his strange relationship with the man.  Gerad meets his eyes and quirks first one, then the other eyebrow at him and then throwing him a mirthful wink.

“Very well, since we cannot question this Terrivangian, perhaps we can continue?” Dearth sets the paper down on his desk.

“Owin Stonebrew, please come forward and give your account.”  Diege says, glancing between Kal and Gerad.  Gerad’s face is as implacable as a stone, and Kal manages to look fairly innocent, however a slight bit of color rises to his cheeks.

Owin approaches, looking around with apparent unease.  “If this do be a zone of truth and the magic shows the truth, why do you ask us. Ask them. I heard a tale from Lord Fredrick, but I would like him to testify on his own actions. In battle he led our troops. I saw a man fall dropping our banner and he picked it up and led the charge”

“Owin Stonebrew, your question is not without merit.”  Diege says, sighing and running a hand through her short cropped red hair.  She looks tired.  “The protocols and laws for a proper trial were established long before the Lady Xyrella Kra’Allin blessed us with this spell and they will remain after the magics she has placed upon this courtroom fade.”

She sits up straighter, and her face lights with passion, “Laws are not designed around such fleeting things as a magical enchantment, they are structured around what is Right and Just!  Each accused has the chance to defend themselves and each accuser has the right to bring witnesses.  The Arbitrator presides and I, as Magistrate listen to the evidence and make my decision based upon the laws I am sworn to uphold.  If your testimony is complete, please step down for the next witness.”

“Well said my Lady.”  Gerad says, looking at her.  Owin is the only one close enough to see the expression in his eyes take on a look of fondness.  Owin is shocked even more when Diege returns his look and her gaze goes well beyond fond.  She’s in love with a Half-Orc! His skin crawls.

“Ah.  Well.” Owin hesitates, “I did try an remove the ring an it did seem like it was killin him.  So, ah, if it was put there against his will by someone then ah, they’re probably not very nice.”

“Thank you Owin.” Dethnar says, “If that is all?”  Owin bows awkwardly and returns to his seat.

“Rohk Stonebrew?”  Diege says, “Please approach.”

Rohk walks up to stand before the table looking even more nervous than his brother.  “Well…I was kinda hoping I could talk about this without Luag and Fredrick right there lookin’ at me and judgin’ me but, alright.  I hate bein’ forced to say things in front of people that might make them hate me but looks like I have no choice in the matter.”

“I can promise you that no harm will be allowed to come to you based upon your testimony here.”  Diege says, “Please continue without fear for your or your family’s safety.  If people were unable to testify because of such threats our system of justice would fail to work.”

Rohk nods, looking slightly less nervous, clears his throat and begins to talk, “Let me paint the scene for you…

“There we were…middle of the battle field and this large, scaly monster of a half dragon jumps right in our midst, spreading devastation about with his large swords and fiery breath.  Many lay dying in one fiery explosion from his maw…people were scared and started running away in terror.  Ser Khaladin and I immediately looked at each other and started to rally the troops to gain strength and not run as we charged the beast.  It seemed that our incredibly brave attack rallied the troops some, as many began to gain heart and turn around and follow us back into the fight.

“Ser Fredrick also charged the beast with us and got to him before we did, jamming his spear right into the beast.  It was a brave attack, but the dragon…half dragon…promptly turned and gave Ser Fredrick what we thought was a fatal blow.

“Unfortunately my little dwarf legs weren’t fast enough to get to the dragon in time to hit it meself.” A small tongue of flame curls around his feet and he hastily adds, “With my hammer that is… I didn’t have a crossbow to use.”

He looks down for a moment, visibly sweating before continuing, “By the time I got there it was dead from Chiva’s daggers and a massive beating by Ser Khaladin and Terravangian.  That’s when there was the strange flash of light…imagine it…dead dragon, destruction all around…our squad leader dead in the dirt…suddenly Fredrick is standing up and there’s a d’rn naked man sittin’ there!  What the hell I say!

“I didn’t know what to do at that point…so natural I proceeded to loot the half dragon’s weapons and went and got me mule.

“That’s all I know other then what I been told by others.  I can say I don’t trust Fredrick OR Luag.  It’s a little disconcerting to me that that Luag fella latched onto my group so fast, asking and expecting us to just buy him supplies.  Who does that?  Who immediately meets new people then asks them to buy him stuff and expect no questions?  Somethin’ seems suspicious about the both of em.”

“So, your natural inclination on the field of battle is to start collecting spoils of war even when the battle rages around you?”  Gerad’s eyes narrow, but before he can press for an answer Diege cuts him off with a chopping motion of her hand.

“That point is irrelevant to this hearing.” She says shortly.

“It seems that your brother was charitable enough to offer him healing.  Perhaps he assumed you would share that charity.”  Diege says to Rohk.

“Now you say that you are suspicious of Luag because he was needy after arriving on a battlefield clad only in his skin?”  Dehtnar asks, “I don’t think that sounds… unreasonable.”

“He gimmie a list like a mile long!”  Rohk protested, “And it weren’t stuff like food an whatnot, he put a house on there!  A HOUSE!”  He looks around as though expecting to hear a chorus of Dwarves harrumphing through their beards, then remembers where they are.

“Thank you, no more questions.” Dethnar says and Rohk gratefully retreats.

“Chiva, if you would come forward and give your account?”  Diege says, and the Halfling bounces up, looking interestedly at the parchment roll Dethnar has been using before starting.

“Thanks!  I mean, this is interesting, very interesting.  Ah yes, the battle, I’ll make it short.  Incompetent dumbass who should never have been in leadership charged recklessly.”  He gestures at Fredrick.

“Dumbass then gets eviscerated by nasty dragon guy.  Bright light.  Naked tattoo guy appears. Dumbass is back alive.  I luckily get a dagger into the dragon which is then railroad spiked by Terr and then finished off by Kal. Any questions?”

He glances at Dethnar who is scribbling madly to keep up with his tirade, an amused look on his face.  “I lost my favorite dagger in that beast too.  I don’t suppose there’s any chance of recovering it?”

Diege unstraps a sheathed dagger from her waist and tosses it to him.  Chiva catches it out of the air, feeling its perfect balance.  He doesn’t react to but notices Gerad tense at the presence of an armed person within leaping distance of Diege.

“I – ah, thanks?”  He says, not sounding sure.

“Not at all.”  Diege says dryly, “That’s my favorite dagger, wield it well.”

“Now it’s time for the last bit of testimony.”  Dethnar says, “That of the accused.”

“Frederick Thornbarr.” Says Diege, “You are called to defend yourself.”

Frederick comes to stand before them, his shoulders slumped.  He looks quite different from the man who ran defiantly into the teeth of a half dragon.  “All I have to say in my defense is I was just a boy of fifteen.  The witch who gave me the rings said they’d protect me.  I was young and ambitious.  I didn’t think about what it meant…

“I’ve seen … “ He shudders, “I’ve seen what awaits me after I die.  I know I can’t change it, but I mean to try.”  Tears fall from his eyes.  “I am sorry Luag Seitheach.  I plead for the court to have mercy on my family, this was none of their doing.”

“I have heard bits of this testimony before.”  Diege says, “And I have had time to give this some thought.  What you all have told me today has only strengthened my decision.

“Frederick Thornbarr, I hereby strip you of your title.  You shall be kept under house arrest until the day when Luag Seitheach is able to remove the ring from his chest.  In consideration of your youth, your family and the condition of the ring’s enchantment you will not be sentenced to death.  Instead you shall be insulated from harm, not allowed to do anything dangerous and will be required to put whatever skills you may have to use helping the less fortunate.

“Luag Seitheach, in recompense for what you have lost and in lieu of the punishment that cannot be meted out to you, I award you Frederick’s share of the treasure from the battle.  In addition you will be offered travel back to your homeland at the expense of Frederick’s estate.”  She crosses her arms, and looks him over before continuing.

“From all reports, and I’ve heard a few, you conducted yourself quite well.  Not just on the battlefield either.  It seems you have a bit of talent and ambition, and we could use some more of that around here… as long as you can keep the latter in check.”  She glances at Frederick who flinches.  “So I’m offering you a second option.”

“The Thornbarr estate owns a large parcel of land outside of the city.  I have made some negotiations, they are willing to part with forty acres.  They border on the Mephwood on one side, and apparently have been some rumors of issues with the forest lately.  If you wish to make a life for yourself here, you would be welcome.”

She smooths a rumpled sheet of paper on her desk, and raises an eyebrow artfully at him. “You seem to have begun to make plans already, but I will leave the decision up to you.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 25

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It was a dream.  Callindra knew it was a dream because Glarian was standing at her side, one hand holding that monster Sakar over one shoulder and the other resting on hers.  Even though it wasn’t real she felt like she could really talk to him and damn if she didn’t have some things to say.  She opened her mouth to give Glarian the rough side of her tongue for running off or maybe to beg him to come back to her but he spoke first.

“How do you feel?”  He asked, his voice rough with … was it concern?

“What do you mean Master?”

“You’ve had to defend yourself apprentice … you’ve killed and not just monsters now either.”  He said, “So I was wondering how you felt.”

“Scared.  Tired.  Devastated.  Exhilarated.”  She turned and looked up into his face, her eyes sparkling, “Dangerous.”

“Oh you’re dangerous all right.” The concern was clear now, “Has the Weave been behaving?  You’ve been keeping up with the Korumn?”

“Master … it’s OK.  I’m OK.  I practice every morning with the sunrise.  We’re on a quest for-“

“Yes, I know.  You’re looking for Gode.  We’re all looking for Gode.  If you find him, let us know.”

–

“Callindra?” She tried to focus on the voice, her vision swimming. “Hey, welcome back.”  It was Tryst she realized.

“Thanks.”  She was lying on the ground and staring up at a perfect sunset streaking across wispy clouds.

“You had me worried there for a moment.  Usually the healing prayers work with more alacrity.”

“How long was I out?”  She struggled to a sitting position, testing her limbs for stiffness and smiling at Tryst, “I feel as good as new, or almost anyway.  It’s a miracle for real!”  Most of the cuts she had gathered during the fight were healed to faded scars and her hands had a growth of new pink skin.  Re-growing the swordsman’s calluses on them was going to be murder but at least she didn’t have to wait for the blisters to heal.

“You have only been unconscious for about ten minutes.  Don’t push too hard yet, the euphoria is only temporary.  Only half of the healing comes from prayer, the other half comes from your body.”  He gave her an encouraging smile, “The real miracle is that your body knows how to heal itself in the first place; I just help it along.”

The clearing they were in was a sheltered bowl at the top of a tall hill.  From here they could see the village of Vonlar below far in the distance.  They could also make out a winding trail that made its way down the hills steep sides.  The men had made a few rude buildings that blended into the landscape, one housed a few rather tired looking horses, another rough looking accommodations but the third and largest one had piles of boxes and stacks of supplies.  Unless she missed her guess, Callindra believed they had found the missing goods stolen by the Kobolds and perhaps more.

“We should return to Vonlar and tell the villagers where they can go to recover their things.” Tryst said.

“Yeah, the sooner we clear our debt with these backwards muckdwellers the better.” Cronos muttered.

“I feel like we should get back to Tyreen.” Said Vilhylm, “She’s a Dryad, if anyone knows about legends like Elves she would.”

Callindra levered herself to her feet with a reluctant sigh.  “I suppose we should at least get back to Vonlar… or maybe we could just stay here tonight.  I mean it’s not like there’s anyone left to mess with us right?  Besides, I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted.”

“No, we are all tired and that’s exactly why we must return to Vonlar before dark.” Vil said, “There we will be assured of at least some rest whereas here we would be forced to post a rotating watch.”

“I can see the village from here, it won’t take long.” Cronos said with unusual kindness, “He’s right, and the faster we get there the sooner we can all sleep.”

“Ok, ok…”  Callindra sighed again and settled Brightfang more comfortably on her back, “Let’s go then.”

–

The sunlight blinked and flickered on the surface of the pool in what Callindra now thought of as Tyreen’s Grotto.  Callindra was having a hard time staying focused on the conversation at hand, it was just too beautiful out.  She couldn’t believe how fearless the wildlife was when the Dryad was around.  Before, butterflies had landed on her, but now there were deer drinking from the pool and a mountain lion had even spent a half hour letting Tyreen pick burrs out of its coat and rub its belly.

“If you are looking for the Elves, you must go to the Grandfather Tree in the High Forest.” Tyreen said to Tryst.  The big man sat in his gleaming white surcoat, not seeming to notice the small birds that were flying around him and occasionally landing on his shoulders.  “I know very little of the things you seek, but I know the mistress of all Elvenkind resides there.  The Goddess Jorda herself is there.”

This made Callindra sit up and take notice, “What?  You say an actual Goddess lives there?  I thought the Gods were…”

“Myths?  Tryst asked, sounding amused.  “Where do you think the magic that healed your wounds came from?”

“I… “ She didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t make her feel stupid, “I haven’t met a God before so it’s hard for me to think about them.  Besides, knowing my upbringing it’s not too unusual.  Either peasants like me believe absolutely in the Gods or we don’t.  I happen to be of the second kind.”

“You don’t speak like a peasant.” Tryst replied, his eyes twinkling.

“You don’t seem like a priest.” She retorted, annoyed.

“Fair enough.” Said Tryst, laughing merrily, “I don’t feel much like those stodgy old codgers either.”

“So we’re going to the High Forest then?” Said Vilhylm with his usual abruptness.

“That’s a helluva long trip.” Cronos said with a frown.

“Well in that case, we should leave today.  The sooner the better right?”  Callindra said, standing and brushing the dirt from her pants.

“You seem to be restless young one.” Tyreen said, smiling at Callindra’s indignant look.  “Why are you so hesitant to sit still?”

“I need to keep moving.  The more I travel, the more likely I am to find my Master.”  She said, not wanting to admit her fears, her feeling of abandonment or how useless she felt.  To cover her consternation, she took her pipe from its water tight case and packed the bowl with tac, lighting it with flint and steel.

“Who is your Master?”  Tyreen asked, and the others gave her confused looks.  Callindra hadn’t brought him up before.

“He… taught me the Sword.” She mumbled around her pipe stem, “He wasn’t supposed to and now he’s in trouble because of me.”

“Ah, and you think you can help him?”  Tyreen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… I can’t…”  Callindra blew out a cloud of smoke, frustrated that she couldn’t organize her thoughts better, “He’s out there with nobody to watch his back.  I can’t just let him face the Inquisitors on his own.”  Realizing what she had just said, she shut her mouth with an audible snap.

“By the nine hells…” Cronos said, looking at her with wide eyes.  “You’re a rogue weaponmage.  Do you have any idea what the price on your head is?  The Order pays platinum for information on …” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“Of course we wouldn’t dream of turning a comrade in without knowing the whole story.” Tryst said, giving her a penetrating look.

Callindra sighed, why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut?  “He found me injured in the woods, took me in, cared for me and showed me nothing but kindness and respect no matter how often I showed him the rough side of my tongue.  One day I saw him practicing and all but demanded he teach me.  Of course it took me a long time to recover from my injuries, but he took me seriously and didn’t let me off easy.

“Then I guess I began to manifest powers he said I had to learn to control before they killed me.  I didn’t know… but he did and he never asked me.  He knew they’d come and try to kill us, but he taught me anyway.  I owe him, and damn it he owes me!  He should have told me.”

“Why was he exiled from The Order?” Vilhylm asked, looking dark and dangerous in spite of the brightness of the day.

“Because he wouldn’t kill someone I guess.  I don’t care.  If you could see him with his sword… there is no way someone who can dance that beautifully can be bad.”  She knew there was a look of hero worship on her face and she forcibly hardened her features.  “Besides, he saved my life.  It doesn’t matter what someone says he did.  When you face someone over a sword blade you get to know who they are.”

“So you expect us to just travel with you?”  Cronos asked, “You should have told us.”

“Now Cronos, many of us have things in our past we would rather not reveal to certain authorities.”  He raised an eyebrow, “Right?”

To Callindra’s surprise, Cronos blushed and looked away.  She made note of that information for later use.  Just in case.

“Look, I didn’t want to expose you to danger.  That’s why I haven’t told you about it… I mean I had enough trouble keeping my own mouth shut.  Secrets shared aren’t secret anymore.”  She exhaled a stream of smoke from her nostrils, enjoying the rich flavor and letting the scent bring memories of her Master to the surface.  “Glarian was a harsh master but also a real friend.  I can’t bear the thought of him fighting for the both of us by himself.”

Cronos made a choking sound and even Tryst seemed shocked.  “Glarian?”  Tryst said, “You apprenticed to the Sol’Estin?  The Master of the North Wind?”

“Um…. yes?”  She had known that Glarian was extraordinary but hadn’t really thought much of it beyond the trouble she was causing him.  “Is he really that famous?  He seemed just like an old man living on his own in the woods…”

“He was the only member of The Order to ever escape their full punishment.  The only member to ever leave their ranks with his title.”  Vilhylm paused, “You really didn’t know?  He fought in hundreds of significant battles and was credited for the victory on his side in almost all of them.  Many of them were nearly bloodless with him simply defeating the general of the opposing army or his champion in single combat.”

“He’s a legend.”  Cronos said, finally recovering.  “My… teacher even mentioned him sometimes.”

“Where is he now?”  Callindra asked, curious.  “Your teacher I mean.”

“Dead.” The boy said flatly.  She wisely decided to drop the subject.

“I think the girl is right though.  We should leave today, there’s still plenty of daylight and we have a long trip ahead of us.” Said Vilhylm, standing and drawing his cloak about himself.

With that, they seemed to come to an agreement.  The rest of them stood as well and Callindra felt her pulse rise, they were back on the road.  Their time of rest was over, and she would be able to get back to fighting, training and getting stronger.

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 24

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As the tunnel twisted deeper Callindra could feel the air beginning to get warmer and an acrid stink of something burning made her eyes water.  She glanced at her companions and saw their expressions grim.  Something about the smell of the smoke was bothering them, but she didn’t know what it was.  Just as she was opening her mouth to ask what the issue was Vilhylm, who was in the lead, raised a hand for them to stop.  Ahead she saw flickering firelight and could barely make out some sort of rhythmic chanting.

She slipped up next to Vil, pausing for a moment before peering around the corner.  The scene below made her heart skip a beat and her stomach roll.  A group of humans were huddled naked and filthy in a ring of wooden slats surrounded by a group of well-armed Kobolds.  Beyond them, a stone altar with a black stain running down the side stood and on the other side an open hole in the cavern floor bubbled with molten rock.  A large bonfire blazed around which a motley assortment of Kobolds seemed to be working themselves into a frenzy.

A short, twisted creature with a head of stringy hair stood next to the altar, pulling the beating heart from a body that still twitched and convulsed on the altar and held it aloft.  The assembled Kobolds raised a shout of triumph and hunger and the priest barked a few words, shaking the heart and showering the assembled monsters in a shower of hot blood.  Two soldiers dragged the corpse from the altar and threw it to the shouting mob.  They fell on it in a frenzy of snapping jaws and razor sharp claws.

The heart was deposited in a golden box hanging from the end of a steel pole on an iron chain and carried to the crack in the floor.  Here the priest began a guttural chant and lowered it slowly into the lava where it burst into a greasy flame.  The acrid sweetish smell burned in her nose and she was filled with an uncontrollable rage.  This ended now.

Before anyone could stop her, Callindra stood and leaped off the high ledge in one smooth motion.  She landed in a rush of air that blew the surrounding Kobolds off their feet.  With a scream of anger, the creatures closed in on her but she was a whirlwind of magic and steel.  Every time one of them tried to strike her, she managed to dodge out of the way and deal a devastating blow in return.  By the time her companions arrived the crowd of Kobolds were all laying on the ground, bleeding and moaning.

“Bloody stupid thing, running off like that girl!” Vilhylm said.

“Don’t listen to the old stick.” Cronos laughed, “Nice work.  Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“We have bigger problems.” Said Tryst, pointing toward the phalanx of Kobold guards who were moving away from the slave pen.  They were holding their weapons like they knew how to use them and the chainmaile they wore was polished to a mirror finish.

“You take care of the small fry.”  Callindra said with a determined grimace on her face, “That shaman is mine.”

“Wait!” Tryst shouted, but it was too late.  She had already ran straight at the guards, but instead of trying to cut them down, she dodged to one side at the last minute.  Taking three quick steps up the wall of the cavern, Callindra sprang off and ran lightly over her foes using heads and shoulders as momentary foot holds.  Turning a neat flip off the last one, she landed with a flourish in front of her intended opponent.

“Foolissshhh chhhild.” The shaman hissed and waved a hand at her, hissing more words in a sibilant language she didn’t recognize.

She readied Brightfang to spring for his throat but before she could, he vanished and re-appeared on the other side of the raging bonfire.  Her sword hilt quivered in her hand, almost feeling too warm.  It was strange but she focused on the scene instead, trying to find a way across the flames to her quarry.  A quick glance showed her a possible route.  With a short sprint Callindra slid between two approaching Kobolds, digging her toes into the ground and regaining her feet as the monsters smashed into each other.  With a grin she covered the remaining distance between her and the shaman easily.  It was only then that she noticed the pain in her hands.

Steam was coming from her thin leather gloves and the skin beneath was close to blistering.  The shaman fixed her with a gleeful smile and opened his mouth to taunt her.  This was almost nothing compared to the pain of her training.  The smile faded off the creature’s face as she tightened her grip on Brightfang in spite of the sizzle of burning flesh.

“You think this is going to stop me?” She asked, twisting her face into a smirk in spite of Brightfang’s hilt now glowing red hot.  “All it’s going to accomplish is that my blade will hurt more when it slices through your flesh.  You’ve taken the blood of innocents.  Now it’s time for you to bleed.”

“Sssso be it.” The shaman raised a spear tied with bones and totems from his side and swung it in an arc.  Black wood met shining steel in a shower of sparks.  The two fought back and forth over the floor, neither able to find advantage.  Callindra found herself with her back to the lava pool, the shaman raised his spear for a strike that would surely send her into the molten rock.

“Callindra down!” Cronos’s voice rang out behind her.  Without thinking she dropped to her knees and a wave of flame seared the monster before roaring over her head.  It didn’t seem to have much effect on him, but the momentary distraction was enough to create an opening.

Brightfang slashed across the monster’s thighs in a left handed swipe and she followed up by grabbing the spear with her right hand and pulling back with all her strength.  She allowed herself to fall backward, planting a boot in the shaman’s chest and flipping it over her head into the lava.

“Thanks Cronos.” She said rolling smoothly to her feet.  They looked in satisfaction at the burning remains of the shaman.

“Yeah.  Nice job on that one.” He said, nodding at the lava.  They turned and looked at the remains of the battlefield.  Tryst and Vilhylm were cleaning their weapons and binding some minor wounds.  All the Kobolds were dead.

The few remaining human slaves cowered in the slat sided pen, not even moving until Tryst spoke to them at length.  Eventually they regained enough confidence to follow his directions on how to escape the tunnels.  The likelihood of them running into any more of the monsters after the number that had been in this cavern seemed slim and they would certainly have a better chance of escaping that way than following along.

“This was bad, but I don’t think it could account for all we’ve seen.  There must be someone else behind their organization.  I don’t think this… priest… would have the resources to provide them with armor and training.” Tryst said grimly.

“Perhaps we should follow these stairs then?” Vilhylm pointed to a steep set of steps that twisted up the side of the cavern.  “They’re bound to lead somewhere important.”

“I’ll lead.  I think I’m the most surefooted.” Callindra said and started up the stairs two at a time, not waiting to see if the others followed.  As she got close to the top her pace slowed.  Sunlight shone down from above and she could smell fresh air but more importantly there were voices up there.  Human voices.

“I tell yeh, we gotta run.  There’s people down there killin th critters left an right.  They’s gonna make it past th priest any time an then they’s gonna come fer us.”

“We got plenny a loot boss.  We should split while we can.”

“Yeh cowards, I say let ‘em come.  Get yer bows ready.  As soon as yeh see a head come up th stairs fill it wi arrows.”

She was going to leap out before they could draw their weapons, but Vilhylm’s hand came down on her shoulder. “Wait for Tryst to catch up.” He whispered, “He and Cronos are up to something.”

The other two came up quietly and put their heads close.  “We all come out at once and scatter.  There will be less targets that way.  Callindra, you go for their leader since you’re the fastest.  Cronos, see if you can distract them.  Vilhylm, you and I will take care of the archers.”

“Just a second.  If I’m fast now, I can double that speed with a touch of magic.” Callindra said with a wide grin.  She whispered a few arcane words and called the North Wind to speed her feet.  “All right, let’s go kick some ass.”

As one, they all leaped from the staircase and ran in separate directions.  An arrow buzzed past Callindra’s neck, the loose fletching causing it to buzz like an angry wasp.  The winds whirled around her as she ran, sending up clouds of dust and dead leaves.  The men she saw were dressed in a variety of armor, but in spite of being slightly mismatched it was all relatively new and in perfect repair.  She saw the only one who didn’t have a bow drawn and made for him as fast as she could.  He calmly drew a scimitar and waited for her to approach with a smile of anticipation on his face.

They met in a clash of swords, but no matter how fast Callindra struck, he was faster.  After a few moments she was covered in a myriad of small bleeding wounds, none of them were dangerous on their own but combined they slowed her down.  She pushed harder, waiting for him to misstep, trying to find an opening but only succeeded in earning a few more cuts.

The ferocity of her attack had driven him back to the edge of a cliff but now he was on the offensive.  They danced close to the precipice as he slammed blow after blow down on her, a series of strikes that ended with a massive overhand stroke that drove her to her knees.  A confused expression crossed his face, and she saw an arrow stuck in his chest.  His sword blow had saved her from being shot in the back.

With a complicated motion of her sword, Callindra summoned a blast of wind that knocked her still surprised opponent over the edge of the cliff.  She spun on her knees to see her friends dispatching the last of the men.  Sitting back with a weak laugh of relief she wiped Brightfang on the hem of her cloak and sheathed him.

“That was too god rotting close.” She said, wiping the blood out of her eyes.

Tryst was pulling an arrow out of Cronos’s arm with a grim expression on his face.  “I couldn’t agree more Callindra.  Far too close.”

She laughed in relief finally able to relax, but as the adrenaline wore off she realized she might have overdone things a bit.  “Gods and demons.  Tryst when you get a moment I could really use some of that healing magic of yours.  I think I’m going to just … if it’s all right with you I’m going to rest my eyes for a second.”

The Callindra Chronicles Chapter 23

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Callindra awoke with a jerk, having slept so deeply she forgot where she was for a moment.  Her eyes adjusted to the morning light that streamed into the room from an open window and she remembered.  Tryst and Cronos were still asleep; they hadn’t had the benefit of drinking the spring water.  To her pleasure, she found that the dirt, sweat and blood of the prior day had somehow been cleaned from her skin during the night. She knew she should find it strange, but it was such a relief to be clean that she didn’t think about it too much.

She unwrapped and re-wrapped her breast band before pulling on her loose cotton breeches and making her way outside with Brightfang’s baldric slung over one shoulder.  While she practiced, clouds of butterflies swirled and dipped around her, even landing on her hair and arms.  Their probing feet tickled unmercifully and after losing her concentration several times, Callindra gave up.  She ran and laughed amid the thousands of brightly colored creatures, feeling like a little girl.

There were trees with apples and pears growing on them, vines thick with grapes and edible mushrooms growing on fallen logs.  She picked enough for her friends to break their fast and nearly skipped back inside, singing a bawdy tune about what kinds of mischief the wives of sailors got up to while their men were out at sea.

Her companions were all sitting around a low table. Even Vilhylm was there, looking no worse for the wear other than some dark circles under his eyes.  Callindra set the fruits she had harvested down with a smile.

“I already ate as much as I could hold.  Dig in boys, we have a long day ahead of us!”

“You’re unaccountably cheerful this morning.” Tryst remarked, although he couldn’t keep the smile from his face.  Even Cronos looked almost happy, or as close to happy as Callindra could remember seeing him.

“How are you feeling?” Callindra asked, looking at Vilhylm and pouring herself a glass of spring water.  “Looks like our trip to Vonlar wasn’t wasted.”

“I owe Tyreen my life.” He said in glowing tones, “It sounds like I owe this Jasmine as well.”

“We can pay Jasmine back by routing those Kobolds from whatever hole they are hiding in.” Tryst said stoutly.

–

The horses trotted like colts, their good humor restored after a full night’s rest and good meals of grass.  The water from Tyreen’s spring probably helped too, Callindra reflected, remembering how it had made her feel.  They made good time back to Vonlar and arrived just before the midday meal.

Tryst almost had to fight off a crowd of anxious people before they would allow him to go and search for their belongings and loved ones.  Callindra was grinding her teeth audibly before the crowd took the big man’s assurances that he would do what he could at face value and let them get on their way. He handled it with an aplomb that would have done a king proud, promising any aid that could be given and explaining that the first priority was to find the monsters and deal with them.

“I know all of you are anxious about your families.  I can promise you that we will do everything in our power to restore to you what has been taken.  For now please remain in your homes and care for your wounded and grief-stricken.”

It was child’s play to follow the trail of the Kobolds back to their lair.  During the day, the creatures would likely stay inside their caves and hadn’t even bothered to post guard.  After all there had been so little resistance in this area that it didn’t make sense to waste the effort.

They snuck inside, even Tryst managing to be quiet in spite of his heavy armor.  Initially the tunnel slanted downward, but eventually it widened and branched into two.  On the left, a wide ramp sloped slightly up and on the right the tunnel grew even wider.  Down the right hand side, they could see rude mud huts built against the side of the cave dimly lit by torches.

Small kobolds, likely children, played between pens of filthy human slaves and others carried out menial tasks of daily life.  It was almost surreal to see that the monsters had young.  Beyond the village, more tunnels gaped like empty eye sockets, absent gods only knew how deep they ran.

“I will not be party to the slaying of children.” Tryst whispered, his jaw set.  “They have done no wrong and I will not see innocent blood spilled.”

“I agree, but how will we frighten them off?” Vilhylm asked.  Callindra exchanged glances with Cronos and she could tell he had been thinking the same thing she had.  They might be children but innocent was in the eye of the beholder.  Those slaves didn’t look too tenderly cared for.

“I have an idea.”  Callindra said after a moment.  She knew a whisper carried further than a simple low tone of voice and kept the sibilant sounds that carried to a minimum.  “If we all go up that ramp back there I think I can make a distraction that will get most of them out of the way.  Then we can rescue the captured humans and see them safely away.”

“Are you sure it’ll work?” Cronos asked, eyeing her dubiously.

“Well… no, but if it doesn’t we can always run away.  The cave entrance is right over there and there’s nothing between it and us right?”  At the other’s nods, she followed Tryst up the ramp.  When they reached the top she worked Brightfang in an intricate pattern and pulled the runes of power from his flat, one spell swiftly followed by another.

A low moan echoed through the Kobold village and a fog began creeping from the dark tunnel openings on the far side.  Flickering shapes showed amid the fog as it rolled toward the huts, indistinct but suggesting something horrible with powerful arms and hook-like hands.  She wasn’t sure what it was, but the idea had been pulled from the imaginations of the creatures she was trying to frighten and the effect was nearly instantaneous. Mothers grabbed children and fled shrieking past them, out toward the mouth of the cave.

It only took moments to free the prisoners, but to Callindra’s dismay they refused to listen when Tryst told them they had to run.

“Please, my wife.” One man choked, “They took her… I need to rescue her.” He pointed a trembling finger toward a tunnel that sloped down on the far side of the cavern.  A girl who must be his daughter clung to his leg and stared at Callindra with wide, fearful eyes.

“I aint leavin till I get some back.” One man said, folding his arms over his chest.  “Them critters got somethin comin and I’m gonna give ‘em.  Jest gimme a knife and-“

His tirade was cut off by a deafening shout.  A line of Kobold warriors wearing good chainmaile and carrying well-made short swords stood at the mouths of the caves.  At the sight of so many well-armed foes, the villagers finally took to their heels and ran.

Callindra and her companions were too busy preparing for the charge of their enemies to give them more thought.  With defiant screams the small green monsters ran towards them, waving a motley assortment of weapons.  With a smile, she ran to meet their charge and was lost in the ring of steel on steel.

She slid under a precise slash and disemboweled the creature on her way past.  These were much better fighters than the group she had faced either in Vonlar or on the road to Gomreed, not to mention better equipped.  It didn’t matter though, Brightfang parted the chainmaile the monster wore as though it was made of paper.  Spinning on her knee, Callindra brought her blade in a smooth arc that took another of the creature’s legs from its body.

Pain erupted down her back as a sword’s edge was deflected by her armor, but she knew the bruising would take days to subside. Snarling, she reversed her blade and stabbed blindly backward, feeling the tip dig in and smiling in satisfaction at the squeal of pain.  Wrenching Brightfang free, she used the momentum to slash the throat of another kobold and then there were no more opponents left to face.

“It is disturbing how well armed and armored these are.” Tryst said with a frown creasing his face into a pretty study of consternation.

“They weren’t much better trained.” Cronos remarked, wiping his sword on one of the corpses.

“Judging by how clean their equipment is, I’d wager they haven’t had it for long.  Kobolds are notoriously filthy.” Said Vilhylm, gesturing at the general state of decay of the huts and the muck of excrement on the street.

“Something feels wrong about this.” Callindra said, “Who would be funding them, for what reason and why would the little monsters agree?  Regardless, from the size of this settlement I’d say there will be a lot more of them.”

Even as those words left her mouth, the sounds of armor-shod feet and the guttural barks of the Kobold tongue began echoing from the other side of the cavern.  Tryst and Cronos each grabbed a torch and, they all moved down one of the passages that led deeper into the ground.  Perhaps they could avoid being ambushed and perhaps not, but staying here was asking to be overwhelmed.