Bitterness Overcome: (Now A Completed Story!)

[Nonlethal Force]

The next day Charis, Semeion, and Rhema woke up early to travel from Huetown to Fingerdale once more. Of course they wanted to check in on Ischarus and see how his training and healing was progressing, but they also knew that they had a bit of work to do. It’d been three months since they returned from Quehalost and it was approaching time to go back. That meant that there would be a deep need for better equipment. They hadn’t placed a priority on selling the equipment that they had managed to bring back to Tongra from the few resistance squads that they had met in the mountainous passages between here and there. It was the sale of that equipment and the purchase of any new equipment that would take precedence over meeting with Ischarus.

As they entered Fingerdale again for the second day, Charis couldn’t help but smile. “At least this time we won’t have to worry about an unintentional sicknesses! And if we do, I’ll know what to look for this time!”

Rhema chuckled at Charis’ comment. “I was thinking about the same kind of thing, but I didn’t really want to jinx you. And I’d rather not deal with anything else today. We need to get our errands run before Ischarus finishes up with his training.”

As she spoke of her errands, a smile crossed over her face. Semeion took note of the smile and couldn’t let it go without continuing the conversation. “So, you are obviously looking forward to these errands. Any particular reason why?”

Rhema nodded, but kept her focus on the road as the walked under the gate to the city. “There are two shops that we need to visit. The first one is a blacksmith friend of my father’s. He keeps my father in supply of the right farming equipment that we need around the villa. Of course, forging farm equipment is how he keeps his business name clean and well known among the commoners. His true love is buying and selling weaponry. The reason my father likes him is simply because he refuses to forge for Lord Ironblood’s army. Not that he does it to spite the Lord, my guess is that he pays a tax to avoid forging for the army and being blacklisted. He doesn’t make this known too loudly, but the reason that he doesn’t forge for the army or the city guard is because he knows that they are not always honorable in their methods. My father and I believe that kind of business ethics is well worth supporting.”

Charis wasn’t quite sure she was following the reason for Rhema’s excitement about the shopping. “And buying from this man has you that excited?”

Rhema laughed. “No, I guess I got a bit distracted by Garreth and the Silver Glaive. Actually, truth be known I’m honestly much more excited about finally getting out to this little shop that I have been to a few times. It honestly doesn’t look like much besides an herbalist shop that on the side is deeply involved in mystical activities like telling fortunes and reading palms and stuff. Of course, that’s merely just part of the business. The real reason that I am excited to shop there today is because they had this beautiful azure crystal sword that I have wanted to buy for some time. It’s an absolutely gorgeously crafted sword and they claim that the crystal it is made of is just as hard as forged steel. Nothing wrong with forged steel, but the ability to carry around a dark blue sword that is just as good as steel is too much to pass up.”

Semeion and Charis each smiled at Rhema’s explanation – more at her enthusiasm than anything else. They walked a bit further into the city and Rhema pointed down a side road. “The Silver Glaive is down this road. We’ll get Garreth to give us a legitimate price for our goods and then split up the funds. You guys can obviously do what you want with your share of the earnings from the sale. And no doubt that Garreth would be happy to take your money back in sale of his own items from the price that he gives us.”

They arrived in short order outside the Silver Glaive and Rhema opened the single door leading into the front room. The door was heavy, and after the three entered the shop Rhema closed the door with a solid thump. At the sound of the closing door a woman’s voice could be heard from around the corner in the next room. “Be right with you, I’m pulling my hot water off of the stove for tea as I speak.”

Rhema recognized the voice and in a normal volume spoke to Charis and Semeion. “That’s Faereena, Garreth’s wife. She often helps out in the shop, but she helps more than anything with the sales room. Garreth is a skilled metal smith and anyone who knows him thinks little of his appearance. But he’s a bit gruff to be a salesman for people who just stumble upon this place.”

In a louder voice, Rhema spoke to the woman in the other room. “No hurry, Faereena. We can wait for you to put a tea bag in the water.”

The sound of a mug setting down upon a table could be heard from where the trio stood. The sound of the mug was followed by an exclamation that rose in volume as Faereena neared the room where Rhema and her companions stood. “Why, Rhema! I’ve been looking forward to your visit for a while now! You’ve been away too long.”

Her speech cut off as she rounded the final corner and realized that Ischarus had been replaced with a pair of newcomers. She continued in her speech and covered her instinctual hesitation. “So, how is your dad?”

Rhema chuckled. “Busy as ever on the villa. Fortunately, he’s in need of little as far as instruments of the field. Garreth can rest easy over the forge for now.” The two women shared a short laugh and Rhema continued her greeting. “Faereena, these are my friends Semeion and Charis. These two have accompanied Ischarus and me for a few months now.”

Faereena could be seen to visibly exhale a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s a relief, there lass. When you showed up with new friends I thought maybe something happened between you and Ischarus. Or worse yet, I thought something had happened to Ischarus himself. So where is the lad?”

Charis entered the conversation before Rhema could answer the question. As she spoke, Charis strolled forward and extended a hand in greeting. It was then that Charis noted for the first time that Faereena had the best known mark of an elf. She had pointed ears. “Ischarus is doing what any man would do given his situation. He’s off getting special treatment at the temple while we are left to do the legwork.”

Rhema smiled at Charis’ comment and supplied her own explanation. “He’s getting a religion fix, Faereena.” Faereena lifted an eyebrow in Rhema’s direction. Rhema responded to the nonverbal inquiry by offering a bit more of the explanation. “No, there’s nothing the matter. He just needed to ask a few questions while we were in the area.”

Her answer was obviously vague and Faereena knew Rhema had left it vague intentionally. The saleswoman continued to speak in general terms without forcing the party to feel obligated to say more about Ischarus. ”Well, at least he isn’t in any kind of trouble, then. So, what can I do for you this visit through?”

Semeion remained silent, figuring that Charis and Rhema already had the situation in control. The conversation was heading down the path of business anyway, and he didn’t have any particular love for negotiating prices. Charis laid out a few weapons onto a table in the room and spoke. “Well, we understand that your shop here will not only buy a few weapons off of our hand but then you’ll gladly sell us some new ones in exchange?”

Faereena laughed at Charis’ charm. “Lass, we’ll gladly take weapons off your hands at a fair price and even more gladly take the money back in exchange for equipment of your own choosing. Why don’t you guys who are new take a look around the place while I figure out what I can give you for what you brought in.”

Rhema patted her pocket, “We’ve brought additional resources, Faereena. I think we’ll be looking at the fine equipment today.”

The elf woman smiled back at Rhema. “Well, Garreth does fine work with his hammer. And he enjoys making items that people find interesting. Sure, he can make a standard item that serves well in the field. And for the most part that’s exactly what he does. But when he gets inspired I think you guys will find that his work is rather extraordinary.”

Faereena set about to evaluating the weapons and other items that they had taken off of the denizens and highwaymen that they had encountered between Fingerdale, Quehalost, and back again. As she worked, Charis and Semeion looked over the weapons on display. They casually spoke to one another as the browsed. Eventually Charis decided to test one of Garreth’s heavy picks in her hand and seemed quite pleased with the balance. The pick end was shaped normally as she expected, but the handle was forged and hammered so that the metal handle looked as though it were a basket weave pattern that was spiraling around the handle to the very end. At the end of the handle a metal ball that was nearly double the radius of the handle had been placed as a guard and counterbalance for the weight of the pick end. Charis decided that it was this ball that made the weapon so superior since it did an effective job of counterbalancing the weight of the pick in her hand in almost any position that she held it. She motioned to Semeion to pick something up and try the balance of the item for himself while she continued to test Garreth’s design against one of the picks she had found while traveling through the tunnels. Ultimately, Garreth’s design was so superior that she placed her own pick upon the stack of items Faereena was evaluating.

Faereena smiled and noticed the pleased expression upon Charis’ face. “I told you, didn’t I? Garreth does good work! I knew you wouldn’t be disappointed.”

Semeion was inspired by the quality Charis had found in one of Garreth’s picks. He turned to Rhema and waited until he had her attention. “Do you want either of the daggers that we had found in the tunnels? I know that they’re of quite good quality, but I am thinking of selling them and wanted to give you the chance to take one first.”

Rhema declined the offer with a twinkle in her eye and a curious shake of the head. Semeion knew what the motion meant. Rhema was still convinced to pick up her azure crystal sword.

Having received the answer he sought, Semeion placed the daggers on top of the pile that Faereena was evaluating. Faereena immediately took note of them. “I hope I don’t need to tell you that these daggers are a pair of finely made instruments themselves. I’ll gladly take them off of your hands as it’ll save Garreth some work in duplicating their quality. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were selling. These items are nearly of the same quality that Garreth is capable of making.”

Semeion smiled at the saleswoman’s honorable assertion and replied, “Daggers just don’t feel right at my side when Ischarus has his sword and Charis has her pick. I want something a little more noticeable.”

His eyes spied a well crafted rapier hanging on the far wall and he walked over to it and lifted it off of its hook. Semeion carefully unsheathed the rapier and noted that at first the blade looked as though it was simple undecorated steel. However, once he had the blade off of the wall and in his hand he could see that the only decoration on the blade was on the top of the hand guard and therefore away from his hand. The top of the hand guard was clearly carved with the face of a dwarf on the top. In fact, the carving was such that the actual blade of the rapier substituted for the nose of the inscribed dwarf’s face! Semeion laughed quietly to himself as he examined the simple carving. Once he had seen the dwarf’s face, he also realized that the strip of metal which ran from the hand guard to the end of the handle which was intended to protect his fingers was also lightly carved. In the greater image this piece of metal became a long dwarven beard when looked at from any angle that allowed the dwarf face to be seen. More to himself than anyone else, Semeion spoke upon seeing the humorous carving atop the hand guard. “If this isn’t the humor of the elves!” He quickly added the item to his inventory.

Rhema was also looking at a weapon, although it was clear that the weapon she held was not one in which she had been trained. She had lifted up a long sword, almost identical in shape to the weapon Ischarus was currently using in his training. When she realized Semeion and Charis had found something to please themselves she added, “I think it is time Ischarus got a new blade, what do you think?”

Semeion added, “I certainly think that he earned it, so long as the blade he currently uses doesn’t have any emotional ties to him.”

Rhema replied quickly, “Heavens no! That sword is an old instrument that my father gave him one day. It’s nothing but a beginner sword in truth. This one here done by Garreth is a much better sword. Just look at it!”

The sword was indeed a nicely forged sword. The blade had been forged hard and fast and it shined from almost any direction. As Rhema examined the blade, she found that a small verse had been inscribed where the handle met the hilt. The verse was inscribed in the tongue of the elves, and Faereena commented on the inscription as she finished up her calculations. “I’ll let Ischarus figure out what it means before I tell you.”

Rhema also noted that while the blade shined from almost any angle, the hilt was the opposite. A dark blue sapphire had been encrusted in the bottom of the hilt, and the dark gemstone blended in magnificently with the dark hilt. She could imagine Ischarus proudly drawing the blade. The hilt dark would be in his hands, the sapphire only occasionally glistening below his lowest fingers. The blade of the sword would shimmer in any light in contrast to Ischarus’ hands and the hilt of the sword. She carefully sheathed the sword and added it to her belongings.

Once they had all finished, Faereena informed them of how much they owed on top of the value for their trade in weapons. The three weapons they had purchased were considerably of a finer make than any of the weapons they brought to sell except for the pair of daggers. Semeion, Rhema, and Charis each paid their share of the debt and bid Faereena farewell.

As they left the smith’s salesroom, each of the trio bubbled with anticipation. Now it was time to seek out the mystical herbalist shop that Rhema had been excited about earlier.


[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The next day Charis, Semeion, and Rhema woke up early to travel from Huetown to Fingerdale once more. Of course they wanted to check in on Ischarus and see how his training and healing was progressing, but they also knew that they had a bit of work to do. It’d been three months since they returned from Quehalost and it was approaching time to go back. That meant that there would be a deep need for better equipment. They hadn’t placed a priority on selling the equipment that they had managed to bring back to Tongra from the few resistance squads that they had met in the mountainous passages between here and there. It was the sale of that equipment and the purchase of any new equipment that would take precedence over meeting with Ischarus.

As they entered Fingerdale again for the second day, Charis couldn’t help but smile. “At least this time we won’t have to worry about an unintentional sicknesses! And if we do, I’ll know what to look for this time!”

Rhema chuckled at Charis’ comment. “I was thinking about the same kind of thing, but I didn’t really want to jinx you. And I’d rather not deal with anything else today. We need to get our errands run before Ischarus finishes up with his training.”

As she spoke of her errands, a smile crossed over her face. Semeion took note of the smile and couldn’t let it go without continuing the conversation. “So, you are obviously looking forward to these errands. Any particular reason why?”

Rhema nodded, but kept her focus on the road as the walked under the gate to the city. “There are two shops that we need to visit. The first one is a blacksmith friend of my father’s. He keeps my father in supply of the right farming equipment that we need around the villa. Of course, forging farm equipment is how he keeps his business name clean and well known among the commoners. His true love is buying and selling weaponry. The reason my father likes him is simply because he refuses to forge for Lord Ironblood’s army. Not that he does it to spite the Lord, my guess is that he pays a tax to avoid forging for the army and being blacklisted. He doesn’t make this known too loudly, but the reason that he doesn’t forge for the army or the city guard is because he knows that they are not always honorable in their methods. My father and I believe that kind of business ethics is well worth supporting.”

Charis wasn’t quite sure she was following the reason for Rhema’s excitement about the shopping. “And buying from this man has you that excited?”

Rhema laughed. “No, I guess I got a bit distracted by Garreth and the Silver Glaive. Actually, truth be known I’m honestly much more excited about finally getting out to this little shop that I have been to a few times. It honestly doesn’t look like much besides an herbalist shop that on the side is deeply involved in mystical activities like telling fortunes and reading palms and stuff. Of course, that’s merely just part of the business. The real reason that I am excited to shop there today is because they had this beautiful azure crystal sword that I have wanted to buy for some time. It’s an absolutely gorgeously crafted sword and they claim that the crystal it is made of is just as hard as forged steel. Nothing wrong with forged steel, but the ability to carry around a dark blue sword that is just as good as steel is too much to pass up.”

Semeion and Charis each smiled at Rhema’s explanation – more at her enthusiasm than anything else. They walked a bit further into the city and Rhema pointed down a side road. “The Silver Glaive is down this road. We’ll get Garreth to give us a legitimate price for our goods and then split up the funds. You guys can obviously do what you want with your share of the earnings from the sale. And no doubt that Garreth would be happy to take your money back in sale of his own items from the price that he gives us.”

They arrived in short order outside the Silver Glaive and Rhema opened the single door leading into the front room. The door was heavy, and after the three entered the shop Rhema closed the door with a solid thump. At the sound of the closing door a woman’s voice could be heard from around the corner in the next room. “Be right with you, I’m pulling my hot water off of the stove for tea as I speak.”

Rhema recognized the voice and in a normal volume spoke to Charis and Semeion. “That’s Faereena, Garreth’s wife. She often helps out in the shop, but she helps more than anything with the sales room. Garreth is a skilled metal smith and anyone who knows him thinks little of his appearance. But he’s a bit gruff to be a salesman for people who just stumble upon this place.”

In a louder voice, Rhema spoke to the woman in the other room. “No hurry, Faereena. We can wait for you to put a tea bag in the water.”

The sound of a mug setting down upon a table could be heard from where the trio stood. The sound of the mug was followed by an exclamation that rose in volume as Faereena neared the room where Rhema and her companions stood. “Why, Rhema! I’ve been looking forward to your visit for a while now! You’ve been away too long.”

Her speech cut off as she rounded the final corner and realized that Ischarus had been replaced with a pair of newcomers. She continued in her speech and covered her instinctual hesitation. “So, how is your dad?”

Rhema chuckled. “Busy as ever on the villa. Fortunately, he’s in need of little as far as instruments of the field. Garreth can rest easy over the forge for now.” The two women shared a short laugh and Rhema continued her greeting. “Faereena, these are my friends Semeion and Charis. These two have accompanied Ischarus and me for a few months now.”

Faereena could be seen to visibly exhale a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s a relief, there lass. When you showed up with new friends I thought maybe something happened between you and Ischarus. Or worse yet, I thought something had happened to Ischarus himself. So where is the lad?”

Charis entered the conversation before Rhema could answer the question. As she spoke, Charis strolled forward and extended a hand in greeting. It was then that Charis noted for the first time that Faereena had the best known mark of an elf. She had pointed ears. “Ischarus is doing what any man would do given his situation. He’s off getting special treatment at the temple while we are left to do the legwork.”

Rhema smiled at Charis’ comment and supplied her own explanation. “He’s getting a religion fix, Faereena.” Faereena lifted an eyebrow in Rhema’s direction. Rhema responded to the nonverbal inquiry by offering a bit more of the explanation. “No, there’s nothing the matter. He just needed to ask a few questions while we were in the area.”

Her answer was obviously vague and Faereena knew Rhema had left it vague intentionally. The saleswoman continued to speak in general terms without forcing the party to feel obligated to say more about Ischarus. ”Well, at least he isn’t in any kind of trouble, then. So, what can I do for you this visit through?”

Semeion remained silent, figuring that Charis and Rhema already had the situation in control. The conversation was heading down the path of business anyway, and he didn’t have any particular love for negotiating prices. Charis laid out a few weapons onto a table in the room and spoke. “Well, we understand that your shop here will not only buy a few weapons off of our hand but then you’ll gladly sell us some new ones in exchange?”

Faereena laughed at Charis’ charm. “Lass, we’ll gladly take weapons off your hands at a fair price and even more gladly take the money back in exchange for equipment of your own choosing. Why don’t you guys who are new take a look around the place while I figure out what I can give you for what you brought in.”

Rhema patted her pocket, “We’ve brought additional resources, Faereena. I think we’ll be looking at the fine equipment today.”

The elf woman smiled back at Rhema. “Well, Garreth does fine work with his hammer. And he enjoys making items that people find interesting. Sure, he can make a standard item that serves well in the field. And for the most part that’s exactly what he does. But when he gets inspired I think you guys will find that his work is rather extraordinary.”

Faereena set about to evaluating the weapons and other items that they had taken off of the denizens and highwaymen that they had encountered between Fingerdale, Quehalost, and back again. As she worked, Charis and Semeion looked over the weapons on display. They casually spoke to one another as the browsed. Eventually Charis decided to test one of Garreth’s heavy picks in her hand and seemed quite pleased with the balance. The pick end was shaped normally as she expected, but the handle was forged and hammered so that the metal handle looked as though it were a basket weave pattern that was spiraling around the handle to the very end. At the end of the handle a metal ball that was nearly double the radius of the handle had been placed as a guard and counterbalance for the weight of the pick end. Charis decided that it was this ball that made the weapon so superior since it did an effective job of counterbalancing the weight of the pick in her hand in almost any position that she held it. She motioned to Semeion to pick something up and try the balance of the item for himself while she continued to test Garreth’s design against one of the picks she had found while traveling through the tunnels. Ultimately, Garreth’s design was so superior that she placed her own pick upon the stack of items Faereena was evaluating.

Faereena smiled and noticed the pleased expression upon Charis’ face. “I told you, didn’t I? Garreth does good work! I knew you wouldn’t be disappointed.”

Semeion was inspired by the quality Charis had found in one of Garreth’s picks. He turned to Rhema and waited until he had her attention. “Do you want either of the daggers that we had found in the tunnels? I know that they’re of quite good quality, but I am thinking of selling them and wanted to give you the chance to take one first.”

Rhema declined the offer with a twinkle in her eye and a curious shake of the head. Semeion knew what the motion meant. Rhema was still convinced to pick up her azure crystal sword.

Having received the answer he sought, Semeion placed the daggers on top of the pile that Faereena was evaluating. Faereena immediately took note of them. “I hope I don’t need to tell you that these daggers are a pair of finely made instruments themselves. I’ll gladly take them off of your hands as it’ll save Garreth some work in duplicating their quality. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were selling. These items are nearly of the same quality that Garreth is capable of making.”

Semeion smiled at the saleswoman’s honorable assertion and replied, “Daggers just don’t feel right at my side when Ischarus has his sword and Charis has her pick. I want something a little more noticeable.”

His eyes spied a well crafted rapier hanging on the far wall and he walked over to it and lifted it off of its hook. Semeion carefully unsheathed the rapier and noted that at first the blade looked as though it was simple undecorated steel. However, once he had the blade off of the wall and in his hand he could see that the only decoration on the blade was on the top of the hand guard and therefore away from his hand. The top of the hand guard was clearly carved with the face of a dwarf on the top. In fact, the carving was such that the actual blade of the rapier substituted for the nose of the inscribed dwarf’s face! Semeion laughed quietly to himself as he examined the simple carving. Once he had seen the dwarf’s face, he also realized that the strip of metal which ran from the hand guard to the end of the handle which was intended to protect his fingers was also lightly carved. In the greater image this piece of metal became a long dwarven beard when looked at from any angle that allowed the dwarf face to be seen. More to himself than anyone else, Semeion spoke upon seeing the humorous carving atop the hand guard. “If this isn’t the humor of the elves!” He quickly added the item to his inventory.

Rhema was also looking at a weapon, although it was clear that the weapon she held was not one in which she had been trained. She had lifted up a long sword, almost identical in shape to the weapon Ischarus was currently using in his training. When she realized Semeion and Charis had found something to please themselves she added, “I think it is time Ischarus got a new blade, what do you think?”

Semeion added, “I certainly think that he earned it, so long as the blade he currently uses doesn’t have any emotional ties to him.”

Rhema replied quickly, “Heavens no! That sword is an old instrument that my father gave him one day. It’s nothing but a beginner sword in truth. This one here done by Garreth is a much better sword. Just look at it!”

The sword was indeed a nicely forged sword. The blade had been forged hard and fast and it shined from almost any direction. As Rhema examined the blade, she found that a small verse had been inscribed where the handle met the hilt. The verse was inscribed in the tongue of the elves, and Faereena commented on the inscription as she finished up her calculations. “I’ll let Ischarus figure out what it means before I tell you.”

Rhema also noted that while the blade shined from almost any angle, the hilt was the opposite. A dark blue sapphire had been encrusted in the bottom of the hilt, and the dark gemstone blended in magnificently with the dark hilt. She could imagine Ischarus proudly drawing the blade. The hilt dark would be in his hands, the sapphire only occasionally glistening below his lowest fingers. The blade of the sword would shimmer in any light in contrast to Ischarus’ hands and the hilt of the sword. She carefully sheathed the sword and added it to her belongings.

Once they had all finished, Faereena informed them of how much they owed on top of the value for their trade in weapons. The three weapons they had purchased were considerably of a finer make than any of the weapons they brought to sell except for the pair of daggers. Semeion, Rhema, and Charis each paid their share of the debt and bid Faereena farewell.

As they left the smith’s salesroom, each of the trio bubbled with anticipation. Now it was time to seek out the mystical herbalist shop that Rhema had been excited about earlier.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Rhema continued to lead them through a network of what felt like back alleys through the rest of the city of Fingerdale. These were in fact normal streets. However, the merchant shops that lined the streets took such liberties to extend their storefront out into the street to gain visibility for their wares that the street took on a much more cramped alley feel to it. Rhema and Semeion were amused to watch Charis’ reaction to some of the various methods of advertising that were employed. One particular simple magic shop used illusion magic to create a scary dragon head that would rise up with a loud roar at anyone who looked into the shop. The illusion was so realistic that Rhema and Semeion were taken by surprise; but Charis was completely unprepared for this occurrence and before she knew it she had her new pick in her hand and was ready to defend herself! Only a convincing appeal from Rhema calmed her down, much to the amusement of several of the nearby merchants. They had grown accustomed to the initial panic of people passing by.

Eventually the trio came to the herbalist shop that Rhema had spoken of earlier. It was one of the few shops in their entire walk that had not taken advantage of pouring its wares out onto the street to help advertise. In fact, it had done simply the opposite. The merchant shops on either side of this herbal shop had taken over all but a very narrow path into the herbal shop. This arrangement made the herbalist shop blend into the natural background even more. It was as if the herbalist desired to keep a low profil and only be found by those with the intention of seeking the shop out.

Semeion looked at the odd arrangement as Rhema found the narrow path and headed toward the building, “How did you ever find this place, Rhema?”

Charis added, “No doubt. I think that if I was walking down this street in search for it I wouldn’t be able to find it. It is almost as if the owner doesn’t want to advertise!”

Rhema stopped before entering and spoke softly. From her tone and volume Charis and Semeion picked up rather easily that the street was not a great place to speak of the shop in great detail. “The owner doesn’t. And the only reason at all that I know of this place is that several years back the owner of this place came and asked of a favor from my father. He could give little in exchange. Fortunately for him his personality caught my attention immediately. I was a young teenager at the time and I begged my father to help him just because he seemed like a nice person. My father then suggested an alternate payment for his assistance. The owner of this shop agreed to train me in the basics of his craft in exchange for my father’s help. The owner of this shop helped me begin to learn what I know. Unfortunately, I quickly surpassed the skill of the owner of the shop and since have had to learn what I know on my own.”

Rhema turned and parted the thick veil of beads that dangled from the top of the entrance to the shop. There were several rows of beads, and the beads varied in sizes so as to make a very effective barrier to the sounds and lights trying to pass from the outside, through the curtain, and into the shop. In truth, they also provided a good barrier at keeping sounds originating in the shop with the walls of the shop. As the trio entered, they saw quart sized glass jars lining the walls on small wooden shelves. The rows of shelves that held the quart sized jars were floor to ceiling and almost made it impossible to view the walls behind them. This first room of the store was roughly a mere 10 feet wide and only a good 15 feet deep. However, there was a door in the middle of the far wall that looked as though to have seen a fair amount of use.

Semeion was intrigued by the patron of the shop. The figure was a small goblin with bluish highlights to his naturally occurring hair. His crooked nose and rough skin spoke of the fact that he had not had an easy life. Before the goblin looked up to see who had entered he began into his typical introductory speech. “Welcome to the Translucent Corymb. If you need any assistance finding the herb you desire, feel free to ask.”

Rhema cleared her throat a little obviously and spoke. “We don’t seek herbs, Braagh, you old fool.”

The voice and the mild insult caused the goblin to look up and smile. Once he had recognized Rhema he spoke softly to her. “Rhema, my dear. Good to see you once more! Come, come now. Have you come and brought friends to stare at the sword of your dreams? I’ve saved it for you as I promised.”

Rhema smiled as the goblin slid off of his chair. Even from a standing height the goblin rose only to the bottom of Rhema’s ribcage. “Not only have I come to show them the crystal sword – I’ve come to take it off your hands and slip you some profit in the process!”

The goblin smiled even more. “That is simply wonderful news! A visit from a friend is good, but a visit from a friend who brings profit is even better!

Braagh took several quick steps and turned the handle on the back door. The door appeared to be oddly proportioned with the handle located much closer to the ground for the smaller goblin to be able to reach comfortably. The lower handle gave the top of the door the appearance of a yawning twenty foot mouth as it opened. As the goblin entered the room the trio could make out several small cases inside the room. Once they had all entered the back it was clear that this back room was where Braagh kept the wares that he truly cherished. Everything was under glass and locked. In fact, everything in the back storeroom that was for sale was also made of crystal.

As Rhema walked into the room, she heard a voice. The voice sounded nearly ghostly, although it had a significantly female quality to it. “I have watched you come into this shop for years, Rhema.”

The thin hairs on the back of Rhema’s neck stood on end as a chill shot down Rhema’s spine. Her voice betrayed a small sense of concern as she asked, “Braagh, are we alone?”

As Braagh reached into one of his pocket and removed a key, he replied, “Do you seek to offend my sensibilities, Rhema? Of course we are alone! Nobody knows of the wares of this room unless I desire them to know.” He smiled politely at her and flipped the key over along his fingers several times. “So you are really going to take this sword off my hands today? I can’t believe the day has finally come! I’m so happy for you!”

As Rhema turned to face the case that held the crystalline weapons and Braagh inserted the key into the lock to open that same case, Rhema heard the strange voice again. This time the voice was coming from behind her. “Together we can make each other stronger, Rhema.”

As Braagh lifted the crystalline sword out of the case with a fair amount of difficulty, for it was a sword designed for someone Rhema’s size and not his own, Rhema spun and turned away from him.

Braagh wrinkled his eyebrows as she turned away right at the moment he prepared to hand her the sword. “Rhema, is there something wrong? You’ve never been this edgy back here. In fact, normally I can’t get you away from this case.”

Rhema searched the opposite side of the plain room. The only thing in that area of the room was the other display case filled with a smattering of crystal objects similar to the case Braagh had just opened. Confused, she turned back around to Braagh and took the sword into her hand. “Sorry, Braagh. I really am interested in this sword.”

Rhema’s hand gripped the handle like she had many times before. The sword felt perfectly balanced in her hand, and she marveled at how the dark blue crystal was just barely light enough to be able to see faint images through the blade itself. She held the blade up to her eyes and watched as she could barely make out the room and the people within it through the blade. Of course, everything her eyes perceived through the blade was all heavily tinted from the blue of the crystal.

Charis had been intrigued by the crystal objects upon entering, but until Rhema had actually picked one up she was a bit unsure of them since they were not as common as the steel pick she strapped to her belt. She looked at Rhema’s pleased expression with the sword and asked, “That is a beautiful sword, Rhema. Can I hold it for a second?”

Before Rhema could reply in the affirmative she heard the strange voice again. “Give her the sword, Rhema. We both know that your power, our power, does not come from weapons. It comes from your mind.”

Much to the shock of the other three people in the room, Rhema spun on her heels and leveled the sword toward the far wall. In a firm and surprisingly loud voice Rhema commanded an order into the emptiness. “I have had enough of your hidden speech. I demand that you show yourself!”

A few moments of awkward silence settled over the room before Semeion spoke. “Uh, Rhema? Are you hearing voices? Because I’ve not heard a word.”

Instinctively Braagh locked up the case from which he had drawn Rhema’s sword and with a simple flick of his wrist the key was back into the hidden pocket where it properly belonged. Charis spun in the direction that Rhema pointed and hoisted her pick in a defensive posture as well. As the others turned, Semeion also turned and stared at what appeared to be an empty wall with a case in front of it.

Rhema heard the voice again. “Give the sword to your friend to hold. Search your mind. Your mind has called out to me for years now. You can find me if you know where to look.”

“There it was again! Tell me you didn’t hear it!” The weight of holding the sword horizontally before her began to cause her hand to waver a bit. She lowered the sword as the voice commanded.

Semeion and Charis simply shook their heads as Rhema looked to them for support. Once she realized that she truly was the only one hearing the voice she decided to do as the voice suggested. She turned to Charis and handed her the sword. “Sure, Charis. You can see the sword. Go ahead and take it, I think you’ll have to trust me on this one.”

Charis and Semeion exchanged a quick and confused look but decided that they were in no position to argue with Rhema. She was apparently the only one who was supposed to know what was going on. Charis stowed her pick onto her belt and took the sword from Rhema. She was indeed impressed with the natural balance that the crystalline sword provided in her hand.

As she gave the sword to Charis, Rhema noticed that Braagh had a smug smile on his lips. In a rather sharp tone stemming from the confusion of the incidents with the voices, Rhema demanded information from Braagh. “And just what are you grinning at, Braagh?”

Braagh didn’t answer. The short creature before them merely shook his head from side to side. Rather intentionally, he forced the smug smile from his face until Rhema turned back around to the opposite case. Once he was sure that her attention was otherwise focused elsewhere, the smile returned to the goblin’s expression.

The voice entered Rhema’s mind once more. “Good. Now, use your mind. Your mind has been calling out to me for years. Together we can become strong. Use your mind to find me.”

In an odd manner, Rhema spoke aloud in response to the voice. Charis and Semeion once more exchanged confused looks as the response made no sense without the reason for prompting it. “How have I been calling for you? I don’t know how!” Semeion looked as though he were about to speak, but Braagh and Charis both motioned for him to remain quiet.

The voice returned once more to Rhema’s mind. “I cannot guide you in what you already know how to do yourself. You must have confidence that you know what you are doing. Use your mind and find me.”

Rhema closed her eyes and focused. She offered up a small prayer to Ischarus’ god. When she opened her eyes once more, she stepped forward to the opposite case and began to look inside. Very slowly, Braagh moved from behind the one case to the side of the other. He did not wish to disturb Rhema, so he did not approach the lock on the opposite side from where Rhema looked.

Inside the case, Rhema poured over the contents, hoping to find something that would strike her as being familiar. She reasoned that if she had been calling out for years, that there must have been something in this case that she had seen in one of her many trips before. She looked at several crystalline objects. There were a few crystal shafts that were about two feet long and of a variety of colors. There were several other crystal swords of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. There were a few small cases with what looked like crystal shards within the cases. And almost as decoration there were a few simple crystals of various colors simply laying in the case.

Again Rhema spoke aloud to the voice that had appeared in her head. “There are so many to choose from, how do I know who you are?”

There was no reply. What had seemed at first to be an intrusion into her mind was now greatly missed. Her mind felt the mental silence and longed for it to be filled with advice. She was trying to solve a puzzle in which the only clue was that she already knew the answer. The very fact that she didn’t know how to unlock the answer was racing through her mind.

After several minutes of deep thinking, Rhema spoke aloud to allow the logic to come to the open air. “I believe you are not a weapon, because none of the weapons look familiar or intriguing to me.” As she spoke, she gestured with her hands. The action was more of a physical release of nervous energy than anything else. When she stopped gesturing she looked down at her hands before her. They had come together almost as if she were forming a bowl with her fingers and palms. Her mind leapt in understanding. “You are one of the stones being used for decoration!”

Rhema didn’t notice that Braagh’s smug smile turned into a smile of pride at her verbal outburst. Charis and Semeion did notice it. The goblin’s smile was infectious as they all began to smile in the realization that Rhema had made a tremendous leap in understanding. Semeion and Charis slowly stepped towards the case so that they could better see the stones that Rhema had to choose from. There were at least six that matched the size of the bowl subconsciously formed by Rhema’s hands. The stones were each colored differently. There was a dark purple crystal, a pink crystal, a maize crystal, a scarlet crystal, an orange crystal, and a navy blue crystal.

Rhema stepped back to think, slightly bumping into Charis’ right side. As Rhema’s hands shot out to brace herself from falling, she caught sight of her cloak as it flailed about her as well as her sword that she had asked Charis to hold. Both of them were a dark blue in color. Her mind raced back to the case. “Could the choice be that simple?”

She thought for a moment and looked around the room to find Braagh. She was amused to find him smiling so proudly and already standing beside the case, key in hand as if he was anticipating the moment to come. She spoke to the small creature in a soft tone. “Braagh, could I see …” Her voice stopped short of making a firm commitment.

Rhema’s finger rested on the glass top and she pointed to the navy blue stone. The goblin easily rounded the corner of the case and slipped the key into the lock. It was pretty clear that he was just as excited about what was happening as Rhema. Charis and Semeion each saw the goblin’s excitement and realized that they were the only two standing on the outside of the experience and looking in. The others had some inkling as to what was happening while they were simply trying to just understand what was happening.

Rhema finished her thought. “… the navy … no. Not the navy blue stone. The voice that spoke out to me was not a carbon copy of who I am. The voice that spoke to me was a compliment to who I am. The voice promised that together we could make each other stronger. Her mind raced through the selection again as her eyes bounced from crystal to crystal. I would like to see the scarlet stone, please.”

The familiar voice returned to Rhema’s mind. “Did I not tell you that you had the ability to find me? Together we shall enhance each other. Your mind has awakened me from my natural sleep. Thank you.”

Rhema stood up and smiled as Braagh removed the scarlet stone from the case. Charis and Semeion exchanged confused looks one more time as Rhema spoke in response to an unheard prompting. “You’re welcome, and thank you.”

Charis waited until Rhema had accepted the stone from Braagh before speaking. “So, can you explain what just happened to those of us sane enough to not hear voices?” The teasing was intentional and Charis’ face erupted in a broad smile as she spoke to Rhema.

Braagh smiled toward Rhema and the expression informed Rhema that he would address the question. “These crystals that you interpret as decoration each have within them a deep consciousness. They are not for sale, and you cannot buy one. Rather, they lay in waiting for someone to come buy and make a mental connection. Once that connection has occurred, the crystal responds. Some of the crystals are aggressive in their approach and other crystals can wait a year, two, five, or even ten years while the mental powers of the one they connected to are established in greater power. In all cases, however, the psychic power laden deep within the stones is drawn to the power in some people. The stones enhance the abilities of the ones to whom they are drawn. It is very much a symbiotic relationship.”

Semeion smiled as he made a connection with his own training. “So, this stone is more like a psychic familiar for Rhema?”

Braagh nodded. “As a crude analogy, yes. In some ways that is a fair assumption. In other ways there is great difference.”

Rhema stowed the crystal in one of the inner pockets of her cloak. “You will not let me pay for the crystal, Braagh? If not, then tell me what I owe for the sword. I have a feeling that it is almost time to go see Ischarus.”

Braagh replied, “I do not pay for the crystals myself, so I do not charge for them. As for the sword …”

Rhema settled the debt with Braagh and after a bit more small talk they headed out of the well disguised store toward the center of town. They would have much to show Ischarus and hopefully he would have much to tell them about his training.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema continued to lead them through a network of what felt like back alleys through the rest of the city of Fingerdale. These were in fact normal streets. However, the merchant shops that lined the streets took such liberties to extend their storefront out into the street to gain visibility for their wares that the street took on a much more cramped alley feel to it. Rhema and Semeion were amused to watch Charis’ reaction to some of the various methods of advertising that were employed. One particular simple magic shop used illusion magic to create a scary dragon head that would rise up with a loud roar at anyone who looked into the shop. The illusion was so realistic that Rhema and Semeion were taken by surprise; but Charis was completely unprepared for this occurrence and before she knew it she had her new pick in her hand and was ready to defend herself! Only a convincing appeal from Rhema calmed her down, much to the amusement of several of the nearby merchants. They had grown accustomed to the initial panic of people passing by.

Eventually the trio came to the herbalist shop that Rhema had spoken of earlier. It was one of the few shops in their entire walk that had not taken advantage of pouring its wares out onto the street to help advertise. In fact, it had done simply the opposite. The merchant shops on either side of this herbal shop had taken over all but a very narrow path into the herbal shop. This arrangement made the herbalist shop blend into the natural background even more. It was as if the herbalist desired to keep a low profil and only be found by those with the intention of seeking the shop out.

Semeion looked at the odd arrangement as Rhema found the narrow path and headed toward the building, “How did you ever find this place, Rhema?”

Charis added, “No doubt. I think that if I was walking down this street in search for it I wouldn’t be able to find it. It is almost as if the owner doesn’t want to advertise!”

Rhema stopped before entering and spoke softly. From her tone and volume Charis and Semeion picked up rather easily that the street was not a great place to speak of the shop in great detail. “The owner doesn’t. And the only reason at all that I know of this place is that several years back the owner of this place came and asked of a favor from my father. He could give little in exchange. Fortunately for him his personality caught my attention immediately. I was a young teenager at the time and I begged my father to help him just because he seemed like a nice person. My father then suggested an alternate payment for his assistance. The owner of this shop agreed to train me in the basics of his craft in exchange for my father’s help. The owner of this shop helped me begin to learn what I know. Unfortunately, I quickly surpassed the skill of the owner of the shop and since have had to learn what I know on my own.”

Rhema turned and parted the thick veil of beads that dangled from the top of the entrance to the shop. There were several rows of beads, and the beads varied in sizes so as to make a very effective barrier to the sounds and lights trying to pass from the outside, through the curtain, and into the shop. In truth, they also provided a good barrier at keeping sounds originating in the shop with the walls of the shop. As the trio entered, they saw quart sized glass jars lining the walls on small wooden shelves. The rows of shelves that held the quart sized jars were floor to ceiling and almost made it impossible to view the walls behind them. This first room of the store was roughly a mere 10 feet wide and only a good 15 feet deep. However, there was a door in the middle of the far wall that looked as though to have seen a fair amount of use.

Semeion was intrigued by the patron of the shop. The figure was a small goblin with bluish highlights to his naturally occurring hair. His crooked nose and rough skin spoke of the fact that he had not had an easy life. Before the goblin looked up to see who had entered he began into his typical introductory speech. “Welcome to the Translucent Corymb. If you need any assistance finding the herb you desire, feel free to ask.”

Rhema cleared her throat a little obviously and spoke. “We don’t seek herbs, Braagh, you old fool.”

The voice and the mild insult caused the goblin to look up and smile. Once he had recognized Rhema he spoke softly to her. “Rhema, my dear. Good to see you once more! Come, come now. Have you come and brought friends to stare at the sword of your dreams? I’ve saved it for you as I promised.”

Rhema smiled as the goblin slid off of his chair. Even from a standing height the goblin rose only to the bottom of Rhema’s ribcage. “Not only have I come to show them the crystal sword – I’ve come to take it off your hands and slip you some profit in the process!”

The goblin smiled even more. “That is simply wonderful news! A visit from a friend is good, but a visit from a friend who brings profit is even better!

Braagh took several quick steps and turned the handle on the back door. The door appeared to be oddly proportioned with the handle located much closer to the ground for the smaller goblin to be able to reach comfortably. The lower handle gave the top of the door the appearance of a yawning twenty foot mouth as it opened. As the goblin entered the room the trio could make out several small cases inside the room. Once they had all entered the back it was clear that this back room was where Braagh kept the wares that he truly cherished. Everything was under glass and locked. In fact, everything in the back storeroom that was for sale was also made of crystal.

As Rhema walked into the room, she heard a voice. The voice sounded nearly ghostly, although it had a significantly female quality to it. “I have watched you come into this shop for years, Rhema.”

The thin hairs on the back of Rhema’s neck stood on end as a chill shot down Rhema’s spine. Her voice betrayed a small sense of concern as she asked, “Braagh, are we alone?”

As Braagh reached into one of his pocket and removed a key, he replied, “Do you seek to offend my sensibilities, Rhema? Of course we are alone! Nobody knows of the wares of this room unless I desire them to know.” He smiled politely at her and flipped the key over along his fingers several times. “So you are really going to take this sword off my hands today? I can’t believe the day has finally come! I’m so happy for you!”

As Rhema turned to face the case that held the crystalline weapons and Braagh inserted the key into the lock to open that same case, Rhema heard the strange voice again. This time the voice was coming from behind her. “Together we can make each other stronger, Rhema.”

As Braagh lifted the crystalline sword out of the case with a fair amount of difficulty, for it was a sword designed for someone Rhema’s size and not his own, Rhema spun and turned away from him.

Braagh wrinkled his eyebrows as she turned away right at the moment he prepared to hand her the sword. “Rhema, is there something wrong? You’ve never been this edgy back here. In fact, normally I can’t get you away from this case.”

Rhema searched the opposite side of the plain room. The only thing in that area of the room was the other display case filled with a smattering of crystal objects similar to the case Braagh had just opened. Confused, she turned back around to Braagh and took the sword into her hand. “Sorry, Braagh. I really am interested in this sword.”

Rhema’s hand gripped the handle like she had many times before. The sword felt perfectly balanced in her hand, and she marveled at how the dark blue crystal was just barely light enough to be able to see faint images through the blade itself. She held the blade up to her eyes and watched as she could barely make out the room and the people within it through the blade. Of course, everything her eyes perceived through the blade was all heavily tinted from the blue of the crystal.

Charis had been intrigued by the crystal objects upon entering, but until Rhema had actually picked one up she was a bit unsure of them since they were not as common as the steel pick she strapped to her belt. She looked at Rhema’s pleased expression with the sword and asked, “That is a beautiful sword, Rhema. Can I hold it for a second?”

Before Rhema could reply in the affirmative she heard the strange voice again. “Give her the sword, Rhema. We both know that your power, our power, does not come from weapons. It comes from your mind.”

Much to the shock of the other three people in the room, Rhema spun on her heels and leveled the sword toward the far wall. In a firm and surprisingly loud voice Rhema commanded an order into the emptiness. “I have had enough of your hidden speech. I demand that you show yourself!”

A few moments of awkward silence settled over the room before Semeion spoke. “Uh, Rhema? Are you hearing voices? Because I’ve not heard a word.”

Instinctively Braagh locked up the case from which he had drawn Rhema’s sword and with a simple flick of his wrist the key was back into the hidden pocket where it properly belonged. Charis spun in the direction that Rhema pointed and hoisted her pick in a defensive posture as well. As the others turned, Semeion also turned and stared at what appeared to be an empty wall with a case in front of it.

Rhema heard the voice again. “Give the sword to your friend to hold. Search your mind. Your mind has called out to me for years now. You can find me if you know where to look.”

“There it was again! Tell me you didn’t hear it!” The weight of holding the sword horizontally before her began to cause her hand to waver a bit. She lowered the sword as the voice commanded.

Semeion and Charis simply shook their heads as Rhema looked to them for support. Once she realized that she truly was the only one hearing the voice she decided to do as the voice suggested. She turned to Charis and handed her the sword. “Sure, Charis. You can see the sword. Go ahead and take it, I think you’ll have to trust me on this one.”

Charis and Semeion exchanged a quick and confused look but decided that they were in no position to argue with Rhema. She was apparently the only one who was supposed to know what was going on. Charis stowed her pick onto her belt and took the sword from Rhema. She was indeed impressed with the natural balance that the crystalline sword provided in her hand.

As she gave the sword to Charis, Rhema noticed that Braagh had a smug smile on his lips. In a rather sharp tone stemming from the confusion of the incidents with the voices, Rhema demanded information from Braagh. “And just what are you grinning at, Braagh?”

Braagh didn’t answer. The short creature before them merely shook his head from side to side. Rather intentionally, he forced the smug smile from his face until Rhema turned back around to the opposite case. Once he was sure that her attention was otherwise focused elsewhere, the smile returned to the goblin’s expression.

The voice entered Rhema’s mind once more. “Good. Now, use your mind. Your mind has been calling out to me for years. Together we can become strong. Use your mind to find me.”

In an odd manner, Rhema spoke aloud in response to the voice. Charis and Semeion once more exchanged confused looks as the response made no sense without the reason for prompting it. “How have I been calling for you? I don’t know how!” Semeion looked as though he were about to speak, but Braagh and Charis both motioned for him to remain quiet.

The voice returned once more to Rhema’s mind. “I cannot guide you in what you already know how to do yourself. You must have confidence that you know what you are doing. Use your mind and find me.”

Rhema closed her eyes and focused. She offered up a small prayer to Ischarus’ god. When she opened her eyes once more, she stepped forward to the opposite case and began to look inside. Very slowly, Braagh moved from behind the one case to the side of the other. He did not wish to disturb Rhema, so he did not approach the lock on the opposite side from where Rhema looked.

Inside the case, Rhema poured over the contents, hoping to find something that would strike her as being familiar. She reasoned that if she had been calling out for years, that there must have been something in this case that she had seen in one of her many trips before. She looked at several crystalline objects. There were a few crystal shafts that were about two feet long and of a variety of colors. There were several other crystal swords of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. There were a few small cases with what looked like crystal shards within the cases. And almost as decoration there were a few simple crystals of various colors simply laying in the case.

Again Rhema spoke aloud to the voice that had appeared in her head. “There are so many to choose from, how do I know who you are?”

There was no reply. What had seemed at first to be an intrusion into her mind was now greatly missed. Her mind felt the mental silence and longed for it to be filled with advice. She was trying to solve a puzzle in which the only clue was that she already knew the answer. The very fact that she didn’t know how to unlock the answer was racing through her mind.

After several minutes of deep thinking, Rhema spoke aloud to allow the logic to come to the open air. “I believe you are not a weapon, because none of the weapons look familiar or intriguing to me.” As she spoke, she gestured with her hands. The action was more of a physical release of nervous energy than anything else. When she stopped gesturing she looked down at her hands before her. They had come together almost as if she were forming a bowl with her fingers and palms. Her mind leapt in understanding. “You are one of the stones being used for decoration!”

Rhema didn’t notice that Braagh’s smug smile turned into a smile of pride at her verbal outburst. Charis and Semeion did notice it. The goblin’s smile was infectious as they all began to smile in the realization that Rhema had made a tremendous leap in understanding. Semeion and Charis slowly stepped towards the case so that they could better see the stones that Rhema had to choose from. There were at least six that matched the size of the bowl subconsciously formed by Rhema’s hands. The stones were each colored differently. There was a dark purple crystal, a pink crystal, a maize crystal, a scarlet crystal, an orange crystal, and a navy blue crystal.

Rhema stepped back to think, slightly bumping into Charis’ right side. As Rhema’s hands shot out to brace herself from falling, she caught sight of her cloak as it flailed about her as well as her sword that she had asked Charis to hold. Both of them were a dark blue in color. Her mind raced back to the case. “Could the choice be that simple?”

She thought for a moment and looked around the room to find Braagh. She was amused to find him smiling so proudly and already standing beside the case, key in hand as if he was anticipating the moment to come. She spoke to the small creature in a soft tone. “Braagh, could I see …” Her voice stopped short of making a firm commitment.

Rhema’s finger rested on the glass top and she pointed to the navy blue stone. The goblin easily rounded the corner of the case and slipped the key into the lock. It was pretty clear that he was just as excited about what was happening as Rhema. Charis and Semeion each saw the goblin’s excitement and realized that they were the only two standing on the outside of the experience and looking in. The others had some inkling as to what was happening while they were simply trying to just understand what was happening.

Rhema finished her thought. “… the navy … no. Not the navy blue stone. The voice that spoke out to me was not a carbon copy of who I am. The voice that spoke to me was a compliment to who I am. The voice promised that together we could make each other stronger. Her mind raced through the selection again as her eyes bounced from crystal to crystal. I would like to see the scarlet stone, please.”

The familiar voice returned to Rhema’s mind. “Did I not tell you that you had the ability to find me? Together we shall enhance each other. Your mind has awakened me from my natural sleep. Thank you.”

Rhema stood up and smiled as Braagh removed the scarlet stone from the case. Charis and Semeion exchanged confused looks one more time as Rhema spoke in response to an unheard prompting. “You’re welcome, and thank you.”

Charis waited until Rhema had accepted the stone from Braagh before speaking. “So, can you explain what just happened to those of us sane enough to not hear voices?” The teasing was intentional and Charis’ face erupted in a broad smile as she spoke to Rhema.

Braagh smiled toward Rhema and the expression informed Rhema that he would address the question. “These crystals that you interpret as decoration each have within them a deep consciousness. They are not for sale, and you cannot buy one. Rather, they lay in waiting for someone to come buy and make a mental connection. Once that connection has occurred, the crystal responds. Some of the crystals are aggressive in their approach and other crystals can wait a year, two, five, or even ten years while the mental powers of the one they connected to are established in greater power. In all cases, however, the psychic power laden deep within the stones is drawn to the power in some people. The stones enhance the abilities of the ones to whom they are drawn. It is very much a symbiotic relationship.”

Semeion smiled as he made a connection with his own training. “So, this stone is more like a psychic familiar for Rhema?”

Braagh nodded. “As a crude analogy, yes. In some ways that is a fair assumption. In other ways there is great difference.”

Rhema stowed the crystal in one of the inner pockets of her cloak. “You will not let me pay for the crystal, Braagh? If not, then tell me what I owe for the sword. I have a feeling that it is almost time to go see Ischarus.”

Braagh replied, “I do not pay for the crystals myself, so I do not charge for them. As for the sword …”

Rhema settled the debt with Braagh and after a bit more small talk they headed out of the well disguised store toward the center of town. They would have much to show Ischarus and hopefully he would have much to tell them about his training.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The rest of the day passed rather harmlessly from the perspective of Rhema, Semeion, and Charis. They ran the rest of their errands in the morning and managed to get to the temple just in time to catch Ischarus as he was finishing up a section of training. With a fair amount of pride, Rhema showed off the sword that she had purchased for Ischarus while they were shopping earlier in the day. Ischarus could obviously tell that Rhema was proud of the purchase and he could tell simply by handling the sword that the item was of a significantly higher quality than the sword that he currently fought with. With more than a hint of pleasure he took the sword and scabbard from Rhema. As he attached the belt around his waist he informed her that he would continue to hold onto both swords until he was done with his training and then return his old sword to Rhema’s father once he was finished. They all knew that it would take Ischarus a bit of time to grow comfortable with the new sword anyway, even if it was a far superior construction.

Rhema also showed off her own crystal sword, pleased that she had finally been able to save up enough money to purchase the sword. Of course, she also happily informed Ischarus of the incident at the Translucent Corymb in which she obtained her other newest addition. Ischarus was more than slightly disappointed to find out that nobody heard the crystal speak except for Rhema. Truth be told, it was a fact that worried him more than anything else.

The rest of the conversation was short on account of Brandt returning early and looking forward to beginning Ischarus’ training once more. Brandt hinted at the fact that he was pleased with Ischarus’ progression, although he also hinted at the fact that he and Ischarus had a significant amount of training left to accomplish. All in all, Brandt explained that he had a total of seven magical abilities that he would like for Ischarus to master before sending him away to complete his training on his own. Brandt indicated that these seven examples would certainly not give him a complete understanding of the arcane world. However, these seven examples would provide a solid base upon which the rest of his learning could be built at a later time.

Ischarus and Rhema certainly understood Brandt’s desire to continue the training, and their parting on this day was easier than the day before. Rhema could see that Ischarus was both mentally and physically healing from their encounters with Grick. She felt much more comfortable leaving Ischarus alone with Brandt now that she was sure that his healing was not in jeopardy. They parted company once more. Rhema returned to her father’s villa with Semeion and Charis while Ischarus returned to his studies with his master. Brandt suggested that he would send for Rhema, Semeion, and Charis when Ischarus would be ready.

Four days passed before Rhema’s father received a messenger from Brandt at the villa. The messenger announced that he was from the temple in Fingerdale and that Brandt was sure Ischarus would have mastered his new techniques by sundown of the following day. Of course, Ischarus was not the only one to have put this break between adventures to good use.

Over the course of the past few days, Rhema had learned that her new scarlet colored crystal companion was going to be a tremendous advantage in bolstering her will power and ability to make favorable decisions. The crystalline presence seemed quite confident in its own abilities and seldom forgot to extend the compliments and confidence to include Rhema as well. Before she had met the crystalline presence she had been working on stretching her powers in a few new directions. The crystal helped her focus her efforts until she had mastered a few new techniques of her own.

Semeion had taken a bit of time to continue to travel into Fingerdale and seek out a few simple magic shops. He had hoped to find a link between the shop keeping merchants who were in charge of the shops and the mages that kept them supplied with goods to sell. Unfortunately, Semeion was unable to convince any of the merchants to reveal their suppliers or to even attempt to arrange a meeting. The best that Semeion could do was to find a few simple scrolls upon which unfamiliar arcane writing had been scrawled. He spent many hours deciphering the magical inscriptions and as he did so he realized that he had unlocked a few magical secrets that he had not previously been taught. He quickly added the magical notations to his own reference sources so that their power would not be lost from his ability to keep them.

During this time, however, Charis was likely the busiest of all of the party. She was not only learning social etiquette, but she was also given plenty of opportunities around the villa to demonstrate her valuable skills. As the land drew closer and closer to the time for the harvest, the activity cycle of the villa increased significantly. As the life cycle of the villa increased, it meant more and more injuries to the servants who worked hard to prepare the land for its harvest. Charis found herself quickly developing a significant loyal following among the people who worked the villa’s land. She found that both her skill in treating minor injuries as well as her ability to magically treat the more serious wounds drew great appreciation from those that she healed. However, perhaps the most important thing that Charis found helpful in living among the people of the villa was the fact that like the majority of them she was also a refugee from Quehalost. As Charis would heal, those refugees who had been around the villa for more time than Charis were able to explain their own period of transition. This allowed the servants of the villa to feel as though they were invested in Charis’ own development and transition from slavery to freedom. Before too long, only Rhema and her father were more popular across the face of the villa than Charis.

The time for the foursome to be reunited came after only a few days, and it wasn’t long at all before Rhema, Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion all found themselves nestled back into the seating area within Brandt’s office. The sun was just about to set as the day wound down. All day long Ischarus had thought that Brandt was not acting in his usual manner. As the day drew on, Brandt seemed to grow more and more excited. Each time Ischarus would hint as to whether or not Brandt was hiding anything, Brandt would merely allude to being excited about Ischarus’ graduation day from his training. Yet now that they were all present, Brandt was acting all the more excited.

“I am glad that you have all been gathered here once more in my office,” Brandt began with a broad smile. Rhema, Charis, and Semeion were equally surprised by this unusual enthusiasm shown by Brandt. Although they were not as well acquainted with Brandt as Ischarus, they could still tell that he was excited about something. “I can assure you greatly that your comrade is ready to go forth and adventure with a much renewed and invigorated spirit.”

Everyone smiled at Ischarus, who proudly returned their expressions with a stoic look of accomplishment. The work had not been easy, and there were a few new bruises that Rhema had noticed upon Ischarus when she arrived. However, this was neither the time nor the place to question them. She and the rest of the party were merely glad to have Ischarus back among them.

Brandt continued speaking as he questioned them with an unapologetic spirit. He quickly transitioned from Ischarus to the party’s future. “I assume that you will be heading back to Quehalost?”

Ischarus flashed a quick glance to his friends, but Rhema smiled confidently. This topic had only begun to appear among the friends before Ischarus had been separated from them. Yet during Ischarus’ absence this particular topic had come upon quite often. Each time it was discussed, the return to Quehalost was a simple conclusion to reach.

Ischarus sat while Rhema offered up the answer. “I believe you can count with an assured spirit that it will not be long before we return to Quehalost. After all, we have made several trips to Quehalost already. We are only now getting to the point of making journeys of more than an hour beyond the mountainous passages. Surely there is a considerable amount of work yet to be accomplished within the land contained by mountains.”

Brandt nodded. “Indeed there is. And while you have shown great courage in challenging the authority of a red wyrm and surviving thus far, there are challenges within the land with which you would simply not be prepared for. To be honest, I am rather confident that there are challenges within the land of Quehalost that I am not prepared for no matter how much I acknowledge that they exist.”

Semeion nodded, understanding that even the magical power of Brandt had its limitations. Rhema continued, “I believe that we have enough challenge waiting there for us for the time being, sir.”

Brandt smiled slightly, although he didn’t speak quite yet. He patiently waited for the party to volunteer any information rather than having to probe it out of them.

Charis picked up where Rhema had left off. “I would like to know the fate of my village, personally. There is much that I left behind in the manner in which I was taken from Quehalost. Mind you, I am not angry with how I was taken and there was a reason that I had to be disconnected in the fashion that I was taken. Yet I know that the presence of Grick means that the village continues on in some form or another. The power of my dragon father has not been broken. In fact, it is likely that he has already chosen another Provenience if any women of my tribe survived his rage. If none survived, then it is likely that my dragon father went out to capture and enslave other women to start fresh.”

Brandt nodded completely in agreement. He had heard the direction in which the party was leaning. “I understand your sentiment, Charis. I cannot know your situation, because like Ischarus my dragon father was a loving and supporting of my development. My dragon father did not use his obvious power over us as a utensil of fear. But I do feel the need to remind you that returning home will not be easy. While you still have great compassion for your people, those who remain will likely see you as a traitor and the reason for their most recent round of great suffering. If you return to your home village, I must caution you in this.”

Charis nodded, although to a great extent she was blind to the emotional river that would likely burst forth should they return as planned. Either way, she was confident in her ability to handle it.

Brandt leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly once more. “And what of you, Semeion? Do you desire to return back to Quehalost and match wits with the dragon that almost roasted you and your friends?”

Semeion nodded in the affirmative and rested a hand upon Charis’ shoulder. “I wish to quest for some purpose. There is no reason to simply study the arcane arts without using it to help people in one form of another. I can think of no greater need than Quehalost. Besides, I will support Charis in her desire to return.”

Brandt smiled as he heard the telltale sign of emotion infused into logic. “Be careful that you do not find yourself standing between love and a fire, then. For while Quehalost is indeed a place of great need, there is no greater place in which you can be killed where nobody will think anything of it. Quehalost is a place where heroes can be made, but fools can be lost to the world.”

Semeion’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as he thought deeply about Brandt’s cautionary speech. He wasn’t quite sure as to whether Brandt was trying to cautiously encourage him or lay a slight insult upon his feet. Semeion concluded that the answer probably lay in whether he lives through their next mission or dies in the midst of it.

Brandt continued the questioning of the party. “And of you, Rhema? Did you have enough time to put words to your thoughts as Charis and Semeion spoke? Why would you return to Quehalost?”

Rhema’s face grew stern as she thought of her last adventure. Her thoughts revolved around Druff and if he were even still alive. It was Druff that had informed them that the trip would have to be related to the previous one. Now it seemed as though their next journey under the mountains would lead them to the same place for a third time in a row. “I have a bit of unfinished business left in Quehalost. I’d like to see it settled one way or another.”

Brandt smiled a crooked smile, almost as if he could read her mind. “I hope that you finish them satisfactorily before they finish you, Rhema.” Turning to Ischarus, Brandt asked his final question. “And what of you? Why will you step foot into Quehalost once more, Ischarus?”

Ischarus breathed deeply and smiled. “I agree with my friend Semeion. There are people in that land who simply are not free. They are oppressed. Many are enslaved. Those who have some freedom live in fear most of their lives. That life is not any life that I should want myself. How can I honorably live here in our relative freedom and peace when they do not even have that choice? Of course, I desire to see my kin again even if they are from a different dragon father. As Charis spoke of earlier and Rhema also implied, there is work that we left unfinished in the land. Three months have passed. It is time to go once more.”

Brandt nodded along with Ischarus, but offered no concluding advice for him as he had done with the others. Ischarus had been listening to advice from Brandt for five days now. If that advice hadn’t stuck by now there would be no parting words that would stick! As Ischarus finished speaking, Brandt leaned back and looked as though he had something to say. The party sat in silence, waiting for Brandt to speak.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The rest of the day passed rather harmlessly from the perspective of Rhema, Semeion, and Charis. They ran the rest of their errands in the morning and managed to get to the temple just in time to catch Ischarus as he was finishing up a section of training. With a fair amount of pride, Rhema showed off the sword that she had purchased for Ischarus while they were shopping earlier in the day. Ischarus could obviously tell that Rhema was proud of the purchase and he could tell simply by handling the sword that the item was of a significantly higher quality than the sword that he currently fought with. With more than a hint of pleasure he took the sword and scabbard from Rhema. As he attached the belt around his waist he informed her that he would continue to hold onto both swords until he was done with his training and then return his old sword to Rhema’s father once he was finished. They all knew that it would take Ischarus a bit of time to grow comfortable with the new sword anyway, even if it was a far superior construction.

Rhema also showed off her own crystal sword, pleased that she had finally been able to save up enough money to purchase the sword. Of course, she also happily informed Ischarus of the incident at the Translucent Corymb in which she obtained her other newest addition. Ischarus was more than slightly disappointed to find out that nobody heard the crystal speak except for Rhema. Truth be told, it was a fact that worried him more than anything else.

The rest of the conversation was short on account of Brandt returning early and looking forward to beginning Ischarus’ training once more. Brandt hinted at the fact that he was pleased with Ischarus’ progression, although he also hinted at the fact that he and Ischarus had a significant amount of training left to accomplish. All in all, Brandt explained that he had a total of seven magical abilities that he would like for Ischarus to master before sending him away to complete his training on his own. Brandt indicated that these seven examples would certainly not give him a complete understanding of the arcane world. However, these seven examples would provide a solid base upon which the rest of his learning could be built at a later time.

Ischarus and Rhema certainly understood Brandt’s desire to continue the training, and their parting on this day was easier than the day before. Rhema could see that Ischarus was both mentally and physically healing from their encounters with Grick. She felt much more comfortable leaving Ischarus alone with Brandt now that she was sure that his healing was not in jeopardy. They parted company once more. Rhema returned to her father’s villa with Semeion and Charis while Ischarus returned to his studies with his master. Brandt suggested that he would send for Rhema, Semeion, and Charis when Ischarus would be ready.

Four days passed before Rhema’s father received a messenger from Brandt at the villa. The messenger announced that he was from the temple in Fingerdale and that Brandt was sure Ischarus would have mastered his new techniques by sundown of the following day. Of course, Ischarus was not the only one to have put this break between adventures to good use.

Over the course of the past few days, Rhema had learned that her new scarlet colored crystal companion was going to be a tremendous advantage in bolstering her will power and ability to make favorable decisions. The crystalline presence seemed quite confident in its own abilities and seldom forgot to extend the compliments and confidence to include Rhema as well. Before she had met the crystalline presence she had been working on stretching her powers in a few new directions. The crystal helped her focus her efforts until she had mastered a few new techniques of her own.

Semeion had taken a bit of time to continue to travel into Fingerdale and seek out a few simple magic shops. He had hoped to find a link between the shop keeping merchants who were in charge of the shops and the mages that kept them supplied with goods to sell. Unfortunately, Semeion was unable to convince any of the merchants to reveal their suppliers or to even attempt to arrange a meeting. The best that Semeion could do was to find a few simple scrolls upon which unfamiliar arcane writing had been scrawled. He spent many hours deciphering the magical inscriptions and as he did so he realized that he had unlocked a few magical secrets that he had not previously been taught. He quickly added the magical notations to his own reference sources so that their power would not be lost from his ability to keep them.

During this time, however, Charis was likely the busiest of all of the party. She was not only learning social etiquette, but she was also given plenty of opportunities around the villa to demonstrate her valuable skills. As the land drew closer and closer to the time for the harvest, the activity cycle of the villa increased significantly. As the life cycle of the villa increased, it meant more and more injuries to the servants who worked hard to prepare the land for its harvest. Charis found herself quickly developing a significant loyal following among the people who worked the villa’s land. She found that both her skill in treating minor injuries as well as her ability to magically treat the more serious wounds drew great appreciation from those that she healed. However, perhaps the most important thing that Charis found helpful in living among the people of the villa was the fact that like the majority of them she was also a refugee from Quehalost. As Charis would heal, those refugees who had been around the villa for more time than Charis were able to explain their own period of transition. This allowed the servants of the villa to feel as though they were invested in Charis’ own development and transition from slavery to freedom. Before too long, only Rhema and her father were more popular across the face of the villa than Charis.

The time for the foursome to be reunited came after only a few days, and it wasn’t long at all before Rhema, Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion all found themselves nestled back into the seating area within Brandt’s office. The sun was just about to set as the day wound down. All day long Ischarus had thought that Brandt was not acting in his usual manner. As the day drew on, Brandt seemed to grow more and more excited. Each time Ischarus would hint as to whether or not Brandt was hiding anything, Brandt would merely allude to being excited about Ischarus’ graduation day from his training. Yet now that they were all present, Brandt was acting all the more excited.

“I am glad that you have all been gathered here once more in my office,” Brandt began with a broad smile. Rhema, Charis, and Semeion were equally surprised by this unusual enthusiasm shown by Brandt. Although they were not as well acquainted with Brandt as Ischarus, they could still tell that he was excited about something. “I can assure you greatly that your comrade is ready to go forth and adventure with a much renewed and invigorated spirit.”

Everyone smiled at Ischarus, who proudly returned their expressions with a stoic look of accomplishment. The work had not been easy, and there were a few new bruises that Rhema had noticed upon Ischarus when she arrived. However, this was neither the time nor the place to question them. She and the rest of the party were merely glad to have Ischarus back among them.

Brandt continued speaking as he questioned them with an unapologetic spirit. He quickly transitioned from Ischarus to the party’s future. “I assume that you will be heading back to Quehalost?”

Ischarus flashed a quick glance to his friends, but Rhema smiled confidently. This topic had only begun to appear among the friends before Ischarus had been separated from them. Yet during Ischarus’ absence this particular topic had come upon quite often. Each time it was discussed, the return to Quehalost was a simple conclusion to reach.

Ischarus sat while Rhema offered up the answer. “I believe you can count with an assured spirit that it will not be long before we return to Quehalost. After all, we have made several trips to Quehalost already. We are only now getting to the point of making journeys of more than an hour beyond the mountainous passages. Surely there is a considerable amount of work yet to be accomplished within the land contained by mountains.”

Brandt nodded. “Indeed there is. And while you have shown great courage in challenging the authority of a red wyrm and surviving thus far, there are challenges within the land with which you would simply not be prepared for. To be honest, I am rather confident that there are challenges within the land of Quehalost that I am not prepared for no matter how much I acknowledge that they exist.”

Semeion nodded, understanding that even the magical power of Brandt had its limitations. Rhema continued, “I believe that we have enough challenge waiting there for us for the time being, sir.”

Brandt smiled slightly, although he didn’t speak quite yet. He patiently waited for the party to volunteer any information rather than having to probe it out of them.

Charis picked up where Rhema had left off. “I would like to know the fate of my village, personally. There is much that I left behind in the manner in which I was taken from Quehalost. Mind you, I am not angry with how I was taken and there was a reason that I had to be disconnected in the fashion that I was taken. Yet I know that the presence of Grick means that the village continues on in some form or another. The power of my dragon father has not been broken. In fact, it is likely that he has already chosen another Provenience if any women of my tribe survived his rage. If none survived, then it is likely that my dragon father went out to capture and enslave other women to start fresh.”

Brandt nodded completely in agreement. He had heard the direction in which the party was leaning. “I understand your sentiment, Charis. I cannot know your situation, because like Ischarus my dragon father was a loving and supporting of my development. My dragon father did not use his obvious power over us as a utensil of fear. But I do feel the need to remind you that returning home will not be easy. While you still have great compassion for your people, those who remain will likely see you as a traitor and the reason for their most recent round of great suffering. If you return to your home village, I must caution you in this.”

Charis nodded, although to a great extent she was blind to the emotional river that would likely burst forth should they return as planned. Either way, she was confident in her ability to handle it.

Brandt leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly once more. “And what of you, Semeion? Do you desire to return back to Quehalost and match wits with the dragon that almost roasted you and your friends?”

Semeion nodded in the affirmative and rested a hand upon Charis’ shoulder. “I wish to quest for some purpose. There is no reason to simply study the arcane arts without using it to help people in one form of another. I can think of no greater need than Quehalost. Besides, I will support Charis in her desire to return.”

Brandt smiled as he heard the telltale sign of emotion infused into logic. “Be careful that you do not find yourself standing between love and a fire, then. For while Quehalost is indeed a place of great need, there is no greater place in which you can be killed where nobody will think anything of it. Quehalost is a place where heroes can be made, but fools can be lost to the world.”

Semeion’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as he thought deeply about Brandt’s cautionary speech. He wasn’t quite sure as to whether Brandt was trying to cautiously encourage him or lay a slight insult upon his feet. Semeion concluded that the answer probably lay in whether he lives through their next mission or dies in the midst of it.

Brandt continued the questioning of the party. “And of you, Rhema? Did you have enough time to put words to your thoughts as Charis and Semeion spoke? Why would you return to Quehalost?”

Rhema’s face grew stern as she thought of her last adventure. Her thoughts revolved around Druff and if he were even still alive. It was Druff that had informed them that the trip would have to be related to the previous one. Now it seemed as though their next journey under the mountains would lead them to the same place for a third time in a row. “I have a bit of unfinished business left in Quehalost. I’d like to see it settled one way or another.”

Brandt smiled a crooked smile, almost as if he could read her mind. “I hope that you finish them satisfactorily before they finish you, Rhema.” Turning to Ischarus, Brandt asked his final question. “And what of you? Why will you step foot into Quehalost once more, Ischarus?”

Ischarus breathed deeply and smiled. “I agree with my friend Semeion. There are people in that land who simply are not free. They are oppressed. Many are enslaved. Those who have some freedom live in fear most of their lives. That life is not any life that I should want myself. How can I honorably live here in our relative freedom and peace when they do not even have that choice? Of course, I desire to see my kin again even if they are from a different dragon father. As Charis spoke of earlier and Rhema also implied, there is work that we left unfinished in the land. Three months have passed. It is time to go once more.”

Brandt nodded along with Ischarus, but offered no concluding advice for him as he had done with the others. Ischarus had been listening to advice from Brandt for five days now. If that advice hadn’t stuck by now there would be no parting words that would stick! As Ischarus finished speaking, Brandt leaned back and looked as though he had something to say. The party sat in silence, waiting for Brandt to speak.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Brandt leaned forward in his chair and lowered his volume. Everyone in the room had to strain just to hear what had been said. “I have a favor to ask of you, and this is a favor that will come at quite a difficult level for you. I had the chance to speak to my dragon father about Ischarus over the course of this past week. In so doing, my dragon father has been impressed not only by your progress in each of your talents, but more in the values that you exude. Ischarus has told me of your moral choice to kill no foe. My father dragon found that particularly noteworthy. He was also impressed by the fact that you frequently risk your lives for the freedom of others. He has asked a simple favor, but I will not lie. The favor carries a tremendous amount of danger within it.”

He paused and leaned back in his chair as if to think about what to say. Ischarus began to speak, but Brandt silenced him with a simple look. Nobody else desired to challenge Brandt for the floor and the ability to speak once Ischarus had been refused. “My dragon father wishes to have a red dragon egg if there is one available.”

Ischarus and Charis immediately knew the imminent danger of such a task and they gasped as the favor was asked. Semeion understood dragon pride enough from his studies to also understand the weight that such a task would carry. Rhema knew little about dragons and their clutches, but she knew enough from the last time a red dragon was breathing down their necks to know she didn’t want a repeat of that event.

Ischarus spoke first. “Your dragon father asks too much! It is impossible!”

Brandt smiled and shook his head. “It is not impossible. And it is not an order or a command. It is merely an offer should you find yourself in a given opportunity.”

Semeion spoke up the next objection. “Surely you know how greedy red dragons are! They often know the value of their hordes down to the smallest fleck of gold. Do you expect us to be able to steal an egg easier than a gold piece?”

Brandt was prepared for this objection. “Yes. As to the well known fact of dragon greed, the funny thing about red wyrms is that there are some things that you can in fact steal and others that if you steal them they will hunt you down across the mountains. Their treasure is completely off limits, and it matters not if you are talking about monetary treasure or gemstones. They love their hordes more than anything else in the whole world. A red wyrm’s honor and reputation is wrapped up both psychologically and emotionally in the size of the horde to which they return. In fact, the only way to ever be free in stealing even the minutest portion of a red dragon’s horde is to slay the dragon itself.”

Brandt paused and the look of a mischievous eight year old boy who just sent his younger brother out of the room to distract his mother while he dips into the cookie jar passed over Brandt’s face. “That being said about the greed of the red wyrm especially, remember that you managed to take Charis without her dragon father tracking you down personally. He came after you in anger, but only sent minions to reclaim Charis. The red wyrm is indeed greedy and possessive about treasure; but it is much less possessive of family. Human made Drakontai can always be replaced by mating with another human. A dragon cannot produce treasure through mating. A clutch of eggs can even be replaced almost as easily as a Drakontos. Living family is perishable in the eyes of a red wyrm. But the gold that lay on the bottom of a horde floor cannot be replaced.”

Charis’ mouth opened slightly as she heard Brandt’s explanation. She thought about all that she had learned in the past three months as well as how much her kin still living in Quehalost meant to her. She pondered for a second about how many had perished when they fled. “That’s just wrong.” It was a simple complaint, but it was all her mind could wrap around regarding the priorities of her dragon father. She had never thought about how little her father dragon had done to get her back in those terms. Yet Charis knew that Brandt’s logic was absolutely correct.

Brandt nodded in agreement. “You’ll not find the same values in all dragon kind, Charis. In fact you’ll not even find those values in all evil dragon kind. In truth most dragons care about their immediate family. But you will find it true in reds. Furthermore, a red dragon will care less about the eggs within its clutch that are of the same gender as the parent than the eggs of the opposite gender. Red wyrms are very territorial, remember? Dragons of the same gender compete for mating rites, land usage, and even control over Drakontai. From the perspective of a red dragon, the fewer red wyrms around of the same gender the easier and more productive their life will be. Thus, if you can find his stash of male eggs, he might not even notice one was gone for a few days. And even if one turns up missing, I guarantee that the red wyrm will pursue you for the sake of his reputation being tarnished and not because he actually cares for the egg. If you can survive long enough for his immediate anger to burn itself out, your task will be all but accomplished.”

Charis still couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Ischarus was struggling to understand the red wyrm approach to kin as well. He had known the love that his own silver dragon father gave to all his children. Semeion was absolutely amazed at Brandt’s wealth of knowledge regarding the red dragon that he didn’t have time to be appalled. In a very neutral and academic sort of way Semeion even found it intriguing. Rhema, on the other hand, was already scheming. A slight and dark smile crept across her face. “We might be able to do it, Brandt. If we cannot do it on this journey perhaps we can accomplish this task on the next.”

Rhema’s voice trailed off into her own thoughts. Brandt replied simply, “My father dragon is not particular. Of course sooner is better, but this is not a simple one time offer. We do not desire you to make this the goal of your mission. Obviously, saving lives is the goal. Working toward justice in Quehalost is far superior to this quest for my father dragon. However, should you find that the red wyrm has protection of a clutch and you are in a position…”

Rhema smiled broadly. “We just might find ourselves there.”

The rest of the party was now curious, but that was all Rhema was going to offer up in explanation in front of Brandt. Brandt mentioned a healthy reward from such a dragon egg. They chatted about their training for a little while longer and Charis reminded them that if they were going to leave the city before the gates were closed for the night they should probably hurry. Before too long they were all on the way home to Huetown.

The next day was spent in preparation for the expedition. Salted food, water skins, arrows, and flint were all packed into the saddlebags. Once the preparations were made, they each lay down to sleep. Tomorrow marked the most difficult trip into the evil land yet. Not only were they intentionally headed into an area in which they were already marked individuals, they were doing it with Rhema convinced that the retrieval of an egg of a red wyrm might just be possible.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt leaned forward in his chair and lowered his volume. Everyone in the room had to strain just to hear what had been said. “I have a favor to ask of you, and this is a favor that will come at quite a difficult level for you. I had the chance to speak to my dragon father about Ischarus over the course of this past week. In so doing, my dragon father has been impressed not only by your progress in each of your talents, but more in the values that you exude. Ischarus has told me of your moral choice to kill no foe. My father dragon found that particularly noteworthy. He was also impressed by the fact that you frequently risk your lives for the freedom of others. He has asked a simple favor, but I will not lie. The favor carries a tremendous amount of danger within it.”

He paused and leaned back in his chair as if to think about what to say. Ischarus began to speak, but Brandt silenced him with a simple look. Nobody else desired to challenge Brandt for the floor and the ability to speak once Ischarus had been refused. “My dragon father wishes to have a red dragon egg if there is one available.”

Ischarus and Charis immediately knew the imminent danger of such a task and they gasped as the favor was asked. Semeion understood dragon pride enough from his studies to also understand the weight that such a task would carry. Rhema knew little about dragons and their clutches, but she knew enough from the last time a red dragon was breathing down their necks to know she didn’t want a repeat of that event.

Ischarus spoke first. “Your dragon father asks too much! It is impossible!”

Brandt smiled and shook his head. “It is not impossible. And it is not an order or a command. It is merely an offer should you find yourself in a given opportunity.”

Semeion spoke up the next objection. “Surely you know how greedy red dragons are! They often know the value of their hordes down to the smallest fleck of gold. Do you expect us to be able to steal an egg easier than a gold piece?”

Brandt was prepared for this objection. “Yes. As to the well known fact of dragon greed, the funny thing about red wyrms is that there are some things that you can in fact steal and others that if you steal them they will hunt you down across the mountains. Their treasure is completely off limits, and it matters not if you are talking about monetary treasure or gemstones. They love their hordes more than anything else in the whole world. A red wyrm’s honor and reputation is wrapped up both psychologically and emotionally in the size of the horde to which they return. In fact, the only way to ever be free in stealing even the minutest portion of a red dragon’s horde is to slay the dragon itself.”

Brandt paused and the look of a mischievous eight year old boy who just sent his younger brother out of the room to distract his mother while he dips into the cookie jar passed over Brandt’s face. “That being said about the greed of the red wyrm especially, remember that you managed to take Charis without her dragon father tracking you down personally. He came after you in anger, but only sent minions to reclaim Charis. The red wyrm is indeed greedy and possessive about treasure; but it is much less possessive of family. Human made Drakontai can always be replaced by mating with another human. A dragon cannot produce treasure through mating. A clutch of eggs can even be replaced almost as easily as a Drakontos. Living family is perishable in the eyes of a red wyrm. But the gold that lay on the bottom of a horde floor cannot be replaced.”

Charis’ mouth opened slightly as she heard Brandt’s explanation. She thought about all that she had learned in the past three months as well as how much her kin still living in Quehalost meant to her. She pondered for a second about how many had perished when they fled. “That’s just wrong.” It was a simple complaint, but it was all her mind could wrap around regarding the priorities of her dragon father. She had never thought about how little her father dragon had done to get her back in those terms. Yet Charis knew that Brandt’s logic was absolutely correct.

Brandt nodded in agreement. “You’ll not find the same values in all dragon kind, Charis. In fact you’ll not even find those values in all evil dragon kind. In truth most dragons care about their immediate family. But you will find it true in reds. Furthermore, a red dragon will care less about the eggs within its clutch that are of the same gender as the parent than the eggs of the opposite gender. Red wyrms are very territorial, remember? Dragons of the same gender compete for mating rites, land usage, and even control over Drakontai. From the perspective of a red dragon, the fewer red wyrms around of the same gender the easier and more productive their life will be. Thus, if you can find his stash of male eggs, he might not even notice one was gone for a few days. And even if one turns up missing, I guarantee that the red wyrm will pursue you for the sake of his reputation being tarnished and not because he actually cares for the egg. If you can survive long enough for his immediate anger to burn itself out, your task will be all but accomplished.”

Charis still couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Ischarus was struggling to understand the red wyrm approach to kin as well. He had known the love that his own silver dragon father gave to all his children. Semeion was absolutely amazed at Brandt’s wealth of knowledge regarding the red dragon that he didn’t have time to be appalled. In a very neutral and academic sort of way Semeion even found it intriguing. Rhema, on the other hand, was already scheming. A slight and dark smile crept across her face. “We might be able to do it, Brandt. If we cannot do it on this journey perhaps we can accomplish this task on the next.”

Rhema’s voice trailed off into her own thoughts. Brandt replied simply, “My father dragon is not particular. Of course sooner is better, but this is not a simple one time offer. We do not desire you to make this the goal of your mission. Obviously, saving lives is the goal. Working toward justice in Quehalost is far superior to this quest for my father dragon. However, should you find that the red wyrm has protection of a clutch and you are in a position…”

Rhema smiled broadly. “We just might find ourselves there.”

The rest of the party was now curious, but that was all Rhema was going to offer up in explanation in front of Brandt. Brandt mentioned a healthy reward from such a dragon egg. They chatted about their training for a little while longer and Charis reminded them that if they were going to leave the city before the gates were closed for the night they should probably hurry. Before too long they were all on the way home to Huetown.

The next day was spent in preparation for the expedition. Salted food, water skins, arrows, and flint were all packed into the saddlebags. Once the preparations were made, they each lay down to sleep. Tomorrow marked the most difficult trip into the evil land yet. Not only were they intentionally headed into an area in which they were already marked individuals, they were doing it with Rhema convinced that the retrieval of an egg of a red wyrm might just be possible.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Eight: THE PATH OF THE UNSEEING

On account of their anxiousness, the next morning came upon the resting party very quickly. Quests were always fun and exciting; but the element of danger could not be overlooked even from the greatest perspective of excitement. The horses were brought out by the stable master at sunrise and several stable hands began to brush them down, blanket and saddle the horses, and prepare the saddlebags with a week’s worth of supplies. Each of the saddlebags would contain two days rations for the horses since it would be assumed that the horses would be tended at the night and allowed to graze on the land during rests. Unless the party wanted to survive upon berries, no such assumption could be made for their sake.

Inside the villa’s main housing structure Semeion woke with a start. His subconscious had kept him jumpy all night. His dreams were erratic and as he woke his sheets had the slightly damp feeling of being sweated upon throughout the night. Yet, it was not the dampness of the sheets that had startled him. As he slept he had felt a presence come near him. As it drew close enough to alarm his subconscious Semeion woke quickly and sat up. He looked up as he sucked in a deep breath and saw that it was Charis who was standing over him.

Charis spoke as she sat down beside him. “I’m a bit worried, Semeion.” She ignored the fact that she had startled him out of his sleep. “We’re heading back into my homeland and I’m not entirely sure this is a good idea.”

Semeion calmed himself as soon as he realized he was safe and Charis was in need of his support. It seemed so long ago since they had met even though it had been a simple three months. He reached up to stroke Charis’ face with the back of his hand before sitting up in bed. “You’ve no more reason to worry than the rest of us, Charis. We’re in this together and by this point I’m sure anyone working for your dragon father would just as soon kill any one of us without preference.”

Charis smiled. She could tell by Semeion’s comment that he wasn’t quite awake. He meant well, at least. “I just have a feeling that so much of this is riding upon my shoulders. So much of this quest depends upon me. I am the old Provenience. Druff used to respect my opinion and now who knows what will happen? And that assumes that he is alive! Rhema has so many expectations in regard to the freedom for all these people, as well as for that egg! I wish Brandt had never spoken of it. To attempt to bring back such a prize is mere foolishness!”

Semeion blinked a few times, trying to calm himself further and bring his mind into being fully awake. “It’s alright, Charis. Nobody is expecting anything special from you in regard to your people. And we’ll cross the bridge of what to do about the egg when we get there. You, Ischarus, and I all know the dangers. If it cannot be done, then we’ll outnumber Rhema. But from this side of the mountains all she can see is the opportunity. She can’t see any of the danger because she doesn’t know what the real danger is from either life or study. You and Ischarus know what dragons are capable of on account of your life experience. I know their dangers from my life and from studying them. She doesn’t have any of that. She only has the realization of how much a dragon egg would bring in profit.”

Charis sighed softly, having heard these words from Semeion several times before. Semeion could tell from her sigh that she knew his counsel was good, but she also wished there was something more concrete that she could do about it.

Semeion began to speak before Charis could dwell too much on her feelings again. “Listen, Charis. You’ll feel better once we are actually on our way to Quehalost. I felt the same things my first trip. The morning before we actually left I wondered what I was getting myself into and whether or not I’d even come back. If I had listened to those feelings I would have never met you.”

Semeion tossed back the sheets, exposing nearly all of his pale white skin. His shorts covered a small percentage of the pasty white skin, but Charis smirked as his skin so obviously clashed with her own lightly tanned skin. Semeion spent so much of his time inside studying that the sun often went days without directly falling upon his skin. Once Semeion indicated that he was ready to get out of bed, Charis rose and walked to the door to allow him to change in peace. When she reached the door she turned around and spoke before closing it. “I’ll be out with the horses. They stable master has been prepping them for almost an hour now.”

Semeion smiled once he was alone. He knew that meant Ischarus had been up for at least that long and ready to go. There was little doubt that Charis had awoken about the same time. Only time would tell if Rhema or Semeion would be the last out to the horses. He quickly changed into his traveling cloak and tucked his traveling book of arcane writings into a pocket on the inside of the same cloak. He grabbed his new rapier and fastened it to his waist. He looked around the room to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind before he picked up his shoulder pack and headed outside.

As Semeion arrived near where the horses were being tended he saw that he was indeed the last one to be ready. Ischarus had mounted Elistra the moment he saw Semeion coming out of the villa’s front door. A smile of anticipation had crossed his face. Semeion returned the smile. He knew that Ischarus loved the journey from Huetown into Quehalost. “I suppose that since I am the last I am holding you all up, then?”

Rhema shook her head slightly. “Don’t worry about it. We only need to get Reignsburg in a few days and then get to Scarhaus the next. It’ll take us a while to make that journey anyway. We might as well go by way of a leisurely pace rather than hustle in the beginning while we’re safe. Once we get to the Tongra-Quehalost mountain range we’ll be moving with enough haste as it is. There is no need to wear ourselves out before then.”

As Rhema spoke, she mounted Shauvry. Charis followed suit and with a significant amount of grace mounted Abijou. Semeion likewise took Thana from the stable hand and rose to a sitting position atop her back. Rhema pulled Shauvry into the lead and the foursome began to head down the path leading away from the villa. As was her custom upon reaching the end of the path, Rhema turned and looked back upon the happy dwelling place of her family. Each time that she left here headed for Quehalost she wondered if it would be her last or if she would once again return with new refugees.

The trip to Reignsburg passed by rather uneventfully, although there were a few instances where Charis swore that she felt as though they were being trailed. However, each time she had the feeling there was no means of proving that her intuition was right. Eventually Charis simply decided that her nerves were getting the better of her and she ignored the suspicion. She would depend upon the strengths of the others rather than succumbing to her own paranoia. Perhaps what bothered her more than anything else was that she was already experiencing paranoia and they were not even in Quehalost yet.

When they were in Reignsburg the foursome easily found the Cachinnating Roadhouse. They bought a stay for the night for both themselves and their horses from Archis. Once they were inside the inn and their evening arrangements settled, Ischarus treated the foursome to a large helping of Archis’ famous potatoes. As usual, Rhema enjoyed herself thoroughly on the feast of her favorite food along the route. Charis didn’t seem to enjoy the food as much as her companions. She slowly picked at her food while Ischarus and Semeion found themselves reminiscing about the last time they were in town headed to Quehalost.

The next day the party woke to find that the skies had opened up and produced a steady stream of rain. Visibility was poor and the rain showed no signs of letting up for the entire day. Since they did not want to pay for another day in the inn and lose a day of travel, the foursome decided to head out into the rain anyway. At least they could be comforted at the fact that they were headed perpendicular to the storm. The storm was coming out of the west and there could be little doubt in the fact that the storm clouds were riding the mountains on its southern edge.

They were headed due south to Scarhaus and the rain passed over them without forcing the party to head into the wind too much. The worst part of the trip besides getting wet was the realization that the reduced visibility made them much more susceptible to highwaymen. Fortunately the day trip from Reignsburg to Scarhaus passed by uneventfully. Well after they were soaked to the skin they arrived in Scarhaus and rested comfortably in Rapheus’ inn. They had arrived too late in the day for Rhema to see young Mardak, however. The rain had slowed them enough that their arrival was later than normal. Hopefully there would be time on the return trip to stop and visit with Mardak.

The following morning brought little sunshine into the land. The rain had stopped, but the long rain from the night before meant that a thick fog had risen from the woods and across the road. The sky was deep with clouds and the likelihood of the sun burning the fog off before noon was minimal. In spite of the fog, the party saddled up and headed into Quehalost. They left their last friendly port behind them and turned to where they knew the mountains lay beyond the thick fog. The fog was so thick that even this close to the looming mountains they could not be seen.

Charis felt better about life with the fog, however. With the presence of the fog she was able to quite distinctly know that they were indeed being followed. The inability of their tail to use visual cues meant that whoever was following them had to stay within earshot in order to make sure that they did not lose the party. Once the tail remained in earshot for long enough to give his presence away on several occasions Charis was able to determine for certain that they were not alone.

Charis spoke softly once she brought Abijou to a trot to catch up to Ischarus in the second position. “I’ve heard twigs snapping behind us, Ischarus.”

Semeion spurred Thana into a trot in order to maintain the small distance between himself and Charis as she moved forward. Once he had made up the distance he could see Ischarus raise two of his left fingers to his mouth and let out a quick shrill whistle. Up ahead, he could tell that Rhema had slowed her pace in response to the whistle. Rhema still continued forward after hearing the call from Ischarus, but she now did so at a more conservative pace. With the reduced speed the horses instinctively closed ranks into a much tighter formation. It was not long before Ischarus and Charis realized that they would not be disappointed this morning.

Three figures emerged out of the fog and threatened the foursome once their horses had slowed down to a walk. Two of the figures came towards them from the front while a third figure slinked out of the woods behind the party. The foursome knew that their horses were not necessarily trained for combat so in a flash they voluntarily gave up their advantage on horseback and slipped out of the saddle. They drew their weapons and waited for the highwaymen to make the first move. The three highwaymen spread out to form a rough triangle around the party and it became clear that there would be no retreat or diplomacy as an attempt to get out of this situation. As the highwaymen formed their triangle around the party, the foursome formed a circled around their horses. Semeion and Rhema took positions opposite each other leaving Charis and Ischarus to be opposite as well.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Eight: THE PATH OF THE UNSEEING

On account of their anxiousness, the next morning came upon the resting party very quickly. Quests were always fun and exciting; but the element of danger could not be overlooked even from the greatest perspective of excitement. The horses were brought out by the stable master at sunrise and several stable hands began to brush them down, blanket and saddle the horses, and prepare the saddlebags with a week’s worth of supplies. Each of the saddlebags would contain two days rations for the horses since it would be assumed that the horses would be tended at the night and allowed to graze on the land during rests. Unless the party wanted to survive upon berries, no such assumption could be made for their sake.

Inside the villa’s main housing structure Semeion woke with a start. His subconscious had kept him jumpy all night. His dreams were erratic and as he woke his sheets had the slightly damp feeling of being sweated upon throughout the night. Yet, it was not the dampness of the sheets that had startled him. As he slept he had felt a presence come near him. As it drew close enough to alarm his subconscious Semeion woke quickly and sat up. He looked up as he sucked in a deep breath and saw that it was Charis who was standing over him.

Charis spoke as she sat down beside him. “I’m a bit worried, Semeion.” She ignored the fact that she had startled him out of his sleep. “We’re heading back into my homeland and I’m not entirely sure this is a good idea.”

Semeion calmed himself as soon as he realized he was safe and Charis was in need of his support. It seemed so long ago since they had met even though it had been a simple three months. He reached up to stroke Charis’ face with the back of his hand before sitting up in bed. “You’ve no more reason to worry than the rest of us, Charis. We’re in this together and by this point I’m sure anyone working for your dragon father would just as soon kill any one of us without preference.”

Charis smiled. She could tell by Semeion’s comment that he wasn’t quite awake. He meant well, at least. “I just have a feeling that so much of this is riding upon my shoulders. So much of this quest depends upon me. I am the old Provenience. Druff used to respect my opinion and now who knows what will happen? And that assumes that he is alive! Rhema has so many expectations in regard to the freedom for all these people, as well as for that egg! I wish Brandt had never spoken of it. To attempt to bring back such a prize is mere foolishness!”

Semeion blinked a few times, trying to calm himself further and bring his mind into being fully awake. “It’s alright, Charis. Nobody is expecting anything special from you in regard to your people. And we’ll cross the bridge of what to do about the egg when we get there. You, Ischarus, and I all know the dangers. If it cannot be done, then we’ll outnumber Rhema. But from this side of the mountains all she can see is the opportunity. She can’t see any of the danger because she doesn’t know what the real danger is from either life or study. You and Ischarus know what dragons are capable of on account of your life experience. I know their dangers from my life and from studying them. She doesn’t have any of that. She only has the realization of how much a dragon egg would bring in profit.”

Charis sighed softly, having heard these words from Semeion several times before. Semeion could tell from her sigh that she knew his counsel was good, but she also wished there was something more concrete that she could do about it.

Semeion began to speak before Charis could dwell too much on her feelings again. “Listen, Charis. You’ll feel better once we are actually on our way to Quehalost. I felt the same things my first trip. The morning before we actually left I wondered what I was getting myself into and whether or not I’d even come back. If I had listened to those feelings I would have never met you.”

Semeion tossed back the sheets, exposing nearly all of his pale white skin. His shorts covered a small percentage of the pasty white skin, but Charis smirked as his skin so obviously clashed with her own lightly tanned skin. Semeion spent so much of his time inside studying that the sun often went days without directly falling upon his skin. Once Semeion indicated that he was ready to get out of bed, Charis rose and walked to the door to allow him to change in peace. When she reached the door she turned around and spoke before closing it. “I’ll be out with the horses. They stable master has been prepping them for almost an hour now.”

Semeion smiled once he was alone. He knew that meant Ischarus had been up for at least that long and ready to go. There was little doubt that Charis had awoken about the same time. Only time would tell if Rhema or Semeion would be the last out to the horses. He quickly changed into his traveling cloak and tucked his traveling book of arcane writings into a pocket on the inside of the same cloak. He grabbed his new rapier and fastened it to his waist. He looked around the room to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind before he picked up his shoulder pack and headed outside.

As Semeion arrived near where the horses were being tended he saw that he was indeed the last one to be ready. Ischarus had mounted Elistra the moment he saw Semeion coming out of the villa’s front door. A smile of anticipation had crossed his face. Semeion returned the smile. He knew that Ischarus loved the journey from Huetown into Quehalost. “I suppose that since I am the last I am holding you all up, then?”

Rhema shook her head slightly. “Don’t worry about it. We only need to get Reignsburg in a few days and then get to Scarhaus the next. It’ll take us a while to make that journey anyway. We might as well go by way of a leisurely pace rather than hustle in the beginning while we’re safe. Once we get to the Tongra-Quehalost mountain range we’ll be moving with enough haste as it is. There is no need to wear ourselves out before then.”

As Rhema spoke, she mounted Shauvry. Charis followed suit and with a significant amount of grace mounted Abijou. Semeion likewise took Thana from the stable hand and rose to a sitting position atop her back. Rhema pulled Shauvry into the lead and the foursome began to head down the path leading away from the villa. As was her custom upon reaching the end of the path, Rhema turned and looked back upon the happy dwelling place of her family. Each time that she left here headed for Quehalost she wondered if it would be her last or if she would once again return with new refugees.

The trip to Reignsburg passed by rather uneventfully, although there were a few instances where Charis swore that she felt as though they were being trailed. However, each time she had the feeling there was no means of proving that her intuition was right. Eventually Charis simply decided that her nerves were getting the better of her and she ignored the suspicion. She would depend upon the strengths of the others rather than succumbing to her own paranoia. Perhaps what bothered her more than anything else was that she was already experiencing paranoia and they were not even in Quehalost yet.

When they were in Reignsburg the foursome easily found the Cachinnating Roadhouse. They bought a stay for the night for both themselves and their horses from Archis. Once they were inside the inn and their evening arrangements settled, Ischarus treated the foursome to a large helping of Archis’ famous potatoes. As usual, Rhema enjoyed herself thoroughly on the feast of her favorite food along the route. Charis didn’t seem to enjoy the food as much as her companions. She slowly picked at her food while Ischarus and Semeion found themselves reminiscing about the last time they were in town headed to Quehalost.

The next day the party woke to find that the skies had opened up and produced a steady stream of rain. Visibility was poor and the rain showed no signs of letting up for the entire day. Since they did not want to pay for another day in the inn and lose a day of travel, the foursome decided to head out into the rain anyway. At least they could be comforted at the fact that they were headed perpendicular to the storm. The storm was coming out of the west and there could be little doubt in the fact that the storm clouds were riding the mountains on its southern edge.

They were headed due south to Scarhaus and the rain passed over them without forcing the party to head into the wind too much. The worst part of the trip besides getting wet was the realization that the reduced visibility made them much more susceptible to highwaymen. Fortunately the day trip from Reignsburg to Scarhaus passed by uneventfully. Well after they were soaked to the skin they arrived in Scarhaus and rested comfortably in Rapheus’ inn. They had arrived too late in the day for Rhema to see young Mardak, however. The rain had slowed them enough that their arrival was later than normal. Hopefully there would be time on the return trip to stop and visit with Mardak.

The following morning brought little sunshine into the land. The rain had stopped, but the long rain from the night before meant that a thick fog had risen from the woods and across the road. The sky was deep with clouds and the likelihood of the sun burning the fog off before noon was minimal. In spite of the fog, the party saddled up and headed into Quehalost. They left their last friendly port behind them and turned to where they knew the mountains lay beyond the thick fog. The fog was so thick that even this close to the looming mountains they could not be seen.

Charis felt better about life with the fog, however. With the presence of the fog she was able to quite distinctly know that they were indeed being followed. The inability of their tail to use visual cues meant that whoever was following them had to stay within earshot in order to make sure that they did not lose the party. Once the tail remained in earshot for long enough to give his presence away on several occasions Charis was able to determine for certain that they were not alone.

Charis spoke softly once she brought Abijou to a trot to catch up to Ischarus in the second position. “I’ve heard twigs snapping behind us, Ischarus.”

Semeion spurred Thana into a trot in order to maintain the small distance between himself and Charis as she moved forward. Once he had made up the distance he could see Ischarus raise two of his left fingers to his mouth and let out a quick shrill whistle. Up ahead, he could tell that Rhema had slowed her pace in response to the whistle. Rhema still continued forward after hearing the call from Ischarus, but she now did so at a more conservative pace. With the reduced speed the horses instinctively closed ranks into a much tighter formation. It was not long before Ischarus and Charis realized that they would not be disappointed this morning.

Three figures emerged out of the fog and threatened the foursome once their horses had slowed down to a walk. Two of the figures came towards them from the front while a third figure slinked out of the woods behind the party. The foursome knew that their horses were not necessarily trained for combat so in a flash they voluntarily gave up their advantage on horseback and slipped out of the saddle. They drew their weapons and waited for the highwaymen to make the first move. The three highwaymen spread out to form a rough triangle around the party and it became clear that there would be no retreat or diplomacy as an attempt to get out of this situation. As the highwaymen formed their triangle around the party, the foursome formed a circled around their horses. Semeion and Rhema took positions opposite each other leaving Charis and Ischarus to be opposite as well.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Rhema smiled as she realized that the highwayman who was facing her was a female and brandishing a sword as though she knew how to use it. She knew that she had backup with the knowledge that Ischarus was to her right and Charis was to her left. She had been given a moment to strike if she chose to use it before the woman could come against her. Rhema gripped the handle of her sword tightly as her mind focused on her approaching enemy. In spite of her moment of tactical advantage she also knew that her victory would be through her words and not through the skill of her blade. “Do not oppose us.” Rhema spoke softly and calmly. “You will not suffer any loss if you do not oppose us. Our fight is not with you. It never has been.”

The highwayman who had come up from behind the party yelled to the woman that Rhema had spoken. “Do not listen to that witch’s words! She’ll only try and lead you astray!”

The one to whom Rhema had spoken made no motion with her blade, although she griped the handle of her sword tightly in the midst of the confusion in her mind. Rhema had given her a decision to make. She knew the words of her associate were true enough, but even armed with the verbal support of the other highwaymen Rhema’s words had a powerful force all of their own. As the fighter stood there hesitating in her mind she heard Rhema’s words repeated over and over.

While the female highwayman stood debating her actions, the battle took a much more fierce tone on the opposite side of the horses. Semeion lined up a strike against the one who had challenged them from behind and who had yelled encouragement against Rhema’s compulsion. The familiar words came to his mind as he once again extended his fingers. “Thin-tok.” His fingers glowed with a pale blue hue for a second before the color leapt off of his hands and merged into a single energy ball. The ball sprang into action and found the target that Semeion desired. The energy ball erupted upon the fighter’s chest.

The fighter already had his weapon in hand as he stepped forward, received the blow from Semeion’s spell, and finished with a swing against Charis. In spite of being a half-second behind in her parry, Charis was able to deflect the blow with the shaft of her newly purchased pick. Already it was clear that the ease of balancing her new weapon was paying off. With great skill and quickness she was able to move from defense to offense. She pushed her opponent’s sword to her right and was able to find a weak spot in her opponent’s armor. She drove the pointed end of her pick into the flesh of the fighter who had come against her. The fighter cursed as pain ripped through his body. In spite of this pain he was able to recuperate his loss and manage to square up another strike.

The fighter wasn’t prepared for another magical strike, however. From over Charis’ left shoulder he heard the same words as before. “Thin-tok”. He couldn’t see it forming, but the bright blue energy returned to Semeion’s fingers and leapt off his hand seeking out the opposition. The energy ball blasted the fighter solidly in the chest and dropped him to the ground in a slightly bloodied state of unconsciousness. Pleased at his effort, Semeion turned to find out how Ischarus was fairing.

The whole time that Rhema had been talking her own opponent out of fighting and his other associates were handling the fighter that had come up from behind, Ischarus found himself locked in a deadly combat with an opponent who matched him sword for shield. After several defensive blocks from both fighters Ischarus was able to advance upon his opponent and land the first blow. His sword smashed hard of his opponent’s thigh, driving a cut in the leather thigh protection that his opponent wore.

The fighter returned Ischarus’ blow with one of his own, although Ischarus was ready for the strike and observed that his opponent’s grip on his weapon had been rushed by Ischarus’ main offensive. As his opponent’s weapon deflected of Ischarus’ shield, Ischarus pushed back against his opponent’s sword and forced it out of his hand. Ischarus meant to take advantage of the fighter’s weakened position, but his own thrust of the sword missed just wide of the fighter’s weakened right side. With a quick motion the fighter had his spare mace in his hand. He used an overhand smash to bring it down upon Ischarus’ position. Ischarus crouched a bit and raised his shield in defense. It was here that Ischarus heard Semeion and Charis drop their enemy to the ground.

Charis yelled to Semeion, “I need to stabilize this one, go help Rhema! I’ll help Ischarus once I’m done.”

As he turned, Semeion saw Charis bending down to stop the bleeding that her pick had brought upon the fighter. Once she had configured a means of using her opponent’s armor to securely hold pressure over the wound, Charis moved to the fighter’s head to make sure that his signs of life were strong. She removed his helm and gasped. She stood as she backed up in shock and silently grabbed her pick once more. In a few step she was in a position to help Ischarus flank his opponent.

Ischarus saw Charis coming, and maneuvered around his opponent so that she could position herself more easily. Ischarus swung hard with his sword, but the opposing fighter effectively used his shield to allow the blow to glance off him harmlessly. The fighter returned the strike, but Ischarus deflected this blow away as easily as his own blow had been deflected moments ago. Ischarus noted that the fighter was intent on bringing him to the ground. Charis was almost completely being ignored by their mutual opponent.

Charis took advantage of the positioning and landed a clean blow against the fighter. Her pick once more penetrated armor. This blow caught the backside of the fighter’s right shoulder. Like the last one, the fighter howled in pain and both Charis and Ischarus could see that the blow had weakened his offensive hand.

Ischarus lined up another shot immediately after Charis’ strike. His intention was to keep the fighter busy and allow Charis to find another vulnerable spot. The fighter easily parried Ischarus’ strike, although Ischarus likewise parried the fighter’s half-hearted return. Charis lined up a second shot and her pick found home once more. As her weapon sank deep into the back of the fighter’s left leg her opponent collapsed in pain to the ground.

Charis quickly stowed her weapon while Ischarus used his sword to push the fighter’s mace and shield away from his body. With the skilled hands of a healer, Charis set about to mending the wounds that she had just inflicted. As she worked, she could hear Rhema continuing her persuasive speech against the one remaining highwayman left standing.

Rhema spoke with great composure in the presence of such violence. “Listen to me. In a matter of less than a minute this fight was decided. You were not harmed at all because you very intelligently did not lift up your arms against me. Now that you have seen that I speak the truth, I ask you to lay down your weapons. If you lay them on the ground and step away from them, I can promise that no harm will come to you. You saw what happened to your associates. There is no need at all for this to happen to you.”

The female highwayman nodded slowly, taking into account how her friends had been defeated. She dropped her sword to the ground and quickly unclasped her morningstar as well. As the ball end of her morningstar hit the ground with a solid thud, the woman undid the straps securing her shield to her arm and allowed that to fall to the ground as well. Rhema motioned for her to move away from her weapons and the woman complied with a nod of approval.

Once the woman was far enough away, Rhema continued giving the female fighter some directions. “Now listen carefully and nobody will get hurt, do you understand?” Rhema asked this question rhetorically. Although she did not expect it, Rhema received a nod to the affirmative from her opponent. “Your friends will have their weapons and means of defending themselves taken away from them as well. But they will not be harmed in the process. Do not interfere when their weapons are removed and you will not be touched.”

From behind her she could hear Charis remove the helm of the opponent that had faced off against Ischarus. This fighter caught her by as much surprise as the last. She couldn’t help but speak out in surprise. “They’re Drakontos, Ischarus. Look at their eyes. They look like mine. They have flecks of red mixed into their human coloration. Look at the hair. The highlights are also red.”

Charis paused while Ischarus bent over the body for a better look. When he stood she continued, “And I know that one back there. That is the one we called Steg. He was under Druff’s control before you came in and rescued me.”

Ischarus looked to the body of the fighter that Charis and Semeion had managed to knock unconscious. “Well then, if they are Drakontos from your father dragon then it can only mean one thing. They have been here in Tongra anticipating our return. If Steg was the one that you felt following us for some time, he may have set up this ambush last night while we were sleeping. But there is no way he could have returned to your village and back in a single night. The cavernous mountain passageways would prevent movement that fast. These three had to be here in Tongra.”

Semeion left Rhema’s side and joined in the discussion. “If that’s the case, then they must know our route. Could they have trailed us three months ago and we were so unaware?”

Charis nodded and in a firm voice she added, “Yes.” Her face showed the resolve of a person born of dragon blood. “It would not surprise me at all if my dragon father sent several groups through the mountains to follow us. This trio here was supposed to be the insurance policy. If everyone else failed in their task, this group would be here.”

Rhema turned to the fighter that she had charmed into listening to her. “Is what they say true?”

The fighter replied almost immediately. Her face seemed pleased to pass the information along to Rhema. “It is. Grick was supposed to finish you off. Steg was supposed to trail him, and Grick did not know our father dragon had sent Steg behind him. When Grick was overcome and thrown in jail, Steg returned here to set up the ambush.”

Semeion and Charis looked to Ischarus. The tall fighter smiled slightly and spoke. “Then the game of wits is on. If they know our paths and they know we are coming, then they will be prepared for us. We must find a new path. We must find a trail that they will not expect us to take.”

The fighter that Ischarus and Charis had worked over hard moaned at their feet. Ischarus spun around at the sound. “Curses!” Ischarus couldn’t help but shout as he realized the conversation had caused him to forget his job. “We have to bind them before they wake or it’ll be much more difficult!”

The trio set off binding the fallen fighters while Rhema continued to talk to the one who had decided against fighting. “We are going to take you back to Scarhaus and place you in prison. You have no choice in this matter if you wish to remain unharmed. Do you understand?”

The woman scowled a bit, but nodded after a few seconds of thought.

Rhema continued her directions. “However, since you did not raise a weapon against us I will put in a good word for you and you may not be charged. When we return from Quehalost – or two weeks in the event we cannot return – you will be tried. That’ll give you time to think about your choices and determine your future. It’ll give you time to think about whether you’d rather continue to live serving an evil master like your dragon father or whether you find more honor in our mercy. Your dragon father would have us killed. You’ll notice that not only were your lives spared but your party’s wounds that we inflicted have been treated.”

The fighter spoke nothing in return. A sour look settled over her face. However, she offered up no resistance and after the party managed to find their opponent’s horses they brought the group of highwaymen back to Scarhaus for jail and an eventual trial. Rhema argued hard for leniency in sentence for the female fighter who had not fought against them. In the end Rhema’s arguments won her a cell in a separate area of the jail where the restrictions and punishments were not as severe. The party decided to spend the rest of the day in Scarhaus looking for maps that might allow them to find a new path in the morning. When evening came, they settled back in for a second night at Rapheus’ inn. This time, Rhena was sure to give Mardak the attention that he longed for.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema smiled as she realized that the highwayman who was facing her was a female and brandishing a sword as though she knew how to use it. She knew that she had backup with the knowledge that Ischarus was to her right and Charis was to her left. She had been given a moment to strike if she chose to use it before the woman could come against her. Rhema gripped the handle of her sword tightly as her mind focused on her approaching enemy. In spite of her moment of tactical advantage she also knew that her victory would be through her words and not through the skill of her blade. “Do not oppose us.” Rhema spoke softly and calmly. “You will not suffer any loss if you do not oppose us. Our fight is not with you. It never has been.”

The highwayman who had come up from behind the party yelled to the woman that Rhema had spoken. “Do not listen to that witch’s words! She’ll only try and lead you astray!”

The one to whom Rhema had spoken made no motion with her blade, although she griped the handle of her sword tightly in the midst of the confusion in her mind. Rhema had given her a decision to make. She knew the words of her associate were true enough, but even armed with the verbal support of the other highwaymen Rhema’s words had a powerful force all of their own. As the fighter stood there hesitating in her mind she heard Rhema’s words repeated over and over.

While the female highwayman stood debating her actions, the battle took a much more fierce tone on the opposite side of the horses. Semeion lined up a strike against the one who had challenged them from behind and who had yelled encouragement against Rhema’s compulsion. The familiar words came to his mind as he once again extended his fingers. “Thin-tok.” His fingers glowed with a pale blue hue for a second before the color leapt off of his hands and merged into a single energy ball. The ball sprang into action and found the target that Semeion desired. The energy ball erupted upon the fighter’s chest.

The fighter already had his weapon in hand as he stepped forward, received the blow from Semeion’s spell, and finished with a swing against Charis. In spite of being a half-second behind in her parry, Charis was able to deflect the blow with the shaft of her newly purchased pick. Already it was clear that the ease of balancing her new weapon was paying off. With great skill and quickness she was able to move from defense to offense. She pushed her opponent’s sword to her right and was able to find a weak spot in her opponent’s armor. She drove the pointed end of her pick into the flesh of the fighter who had come against her. The fighter cursed as pain ripped through his body. In spite of this pain he was able to recuperate his loss and manage to square up another strike.

The fighter wasn’t prepared for another magical strike, however. From over Charis’ left shoulder he heard the same words as before. “Thin-tok”. He couldn’t see it forming, but the bright blue energy returned to Semeion’s fingers and leapt off his hand seeking out the opposition. The energy ball blasted the fighter solidly in the chest and dropped him to the ground in a slightly bloodied state of unconsciousness. Pleased at his effort, Semeion turned to find out how Ischarus was fairing.

The whole time that Rhema had been talking her own opponent out of fighting and his other associates were handling the fighter that had come up from behind, Ischarus found himself locked in a deadly combat with an opponent who matched him sword for shield. After several defensive blocks from both fighters Ischarus was able to advance upon his opponent and land the first blow. His sword smashed hard of his opponent’s thigh, driving a cut in the leather thigh protection that his opponent wore.

The fighter returned Ischarus’ blow with one of his own, although Ischarus was ready for the strike and observed that his opponent’s grip on his weapon had been rushed by Ischarus’ main offensive. As his opponent’s weapon deflected of Ischarus’ shield, Ischarus pushed back against his opponent’s sword and forced it out of his hand. Ischarus meant to take advantage of the fighter’s weakened position, but his own thrust of the sword missed just wide of the fighter’s weakened right side. With a quick motion the fighter had his spare mace in his hand. He used an overhand smash to bring it down upon Ischarus’ position. Ischarus crouched a bit and raised his shield in defense. It was here that Ischarus heard Semeion and Charis drop their enemy to the ground.

Charis yelled to Semeion, “I need to stabilize this one, go help Rhema! I’ll help Ischarus once I’m done.”

As he turned, Semeion saw Charis bending down to stop the bleeding that her pick had brought upon the fighter. Once she had configured a means of using her opponent’s armor to securely hold pressure over the wound, Charis moved to the fighter’s head to make sure that his signs of life were strong. She removed his helm and gasped. She stood as she backed up in shock and silently grabbed her pick once more. In a few step she was in a position to help Ischarus flank his opponent.

Ischarus saw Charis coming, and maneuvered around his opponent so that she could position herself more easily. Ischarus swung hard with his sword, but the opposing fighter effectively used his shield to allow the blow to glance off him harmlessly. The fighter returned the strike, but Ischarus deflected this blow away as easily as his own blow had been deflected moments ago. Ischarus noted that the fighter was intent on bringing him to the ground. Charis was almost completely being ignored by their mutual opponent.

Charis took advantage of the positioning and landed a clean blow against the fighter. Her pick once more penetrated armor. This blow caught the backside of the fighter’s right shoulder. Like the last one, the fighter howled in pain and both Charis and Ischarus could see that the blow had weakened his offensive hand.

Ischarus lined up another shot immediately after Charis’ strike. His intention was to keep the fighter busy and allow Charis to find another vulnerable spot. The fighter easily parried Ischarus’ strike, although Ischarus likewise parried the fighter’s half-hearted return. Charis lined up a second shot and her pick found home once more. As her weapon sank deep into the back of the fighter’s left leg her opponent collapsed in pain to the ground.

Charis quickly stowed her weapon while Ischarus used his sword to push the fighter’s mace and shield away from his body. With the skilled hands of a healer, Charis set about to mending the wounds that she had just inflicted. As she worked, she could hear Rhema continuing her persuasive speech against the one remaining highwayman left standing.

Rhema spoke with great composure in the presence of such violence. “Listen to me. In a matter of less than a minute this fight was decided. You were not harmed at all because you very intelligently did not lift up your arms against me. Now that you have seen that I speak the truth, I ask you to lay down your weapons. If you lay them on the ground and step away from them, I can promise that no harm will come to you. You saw what happened to your associates. There is no need at all for this to happen to you.”

The female highwayman nodded slowly, taking into account how her friends had been defeated. She dropped her sword to the ground and quickly unclasped her morningstar as well. As the ball end of her morningstar hit the ground with a solid thud, the woman undid the straps securing her shield to her arm and allowed that to fall to the ground as well. Rhema motioned for her to move away from her weapons and the woman complied with a nod of approval.

Once the woman was far enough away, Rhema continued giving the female fighter some directions. “Now listen carefully and nobody will get hurt, do you understand?” Rhema asked this question rhetorically. Although she did not expect it, Rhema received a nod to the affirmative from her opponent. “Your friends will have their weapons and means of defending themselves taken away from them as well. But they will not be harmed in the process. Do not interfere when their weapons are removed and you will not be touched.”

From behind her she could hear Charis remove the helm of the opponent that had faced off against Ischarus. This fighter caught her by as much surprise as the last. She couldn’t help but speak out in surprise. “They’re Drakontos, Ischarus. Look at their eyes. They look like mine. They have flecks of red mixed into their human coloration. Look at the hair. The highlights are also red.”

Charis paused while Ischarus bent over the body for a better look. When he stood she continued, “And I know that one back there. That is the one we called Steg. He was under Druff’s control before you came in and rescued me.”

Ischarus looked to the body of the fighter that Charis and Semeion had managed to knock unconscious. “Well then, if they are Drakontos from your father dragon then it can only mean one thing. They have been here in Tongra anticipating our return. If Steg was the one that you felt following us for some time, he may have set up this ambush last night while we were sleeping. But there is no way he could have returned to your village and back in a single night. The cavernous mountain passageways would prevent movement that fast. These three had to be here in Tongra.”

Semeion left Rhema’s side and joined in the discussion. “If that’s the case, then they must know our route. Could they have trailed us three months ago and we were so unaware?”

Charis nodded and in a firm voice she added, “Yes.” Her face showed the resolve of a person born of dragon blood. “It would not surprise me at all if my dragon father sent several groups through the mountains to follow us. This trio here was supposed to be the insurance policy. If everyone else failed in their task, this group would be here.”

Rhema turned to the fighter that she had charmed into listening to her. “Is what they say true?”

The fighter replied almost immediately. Her face seemed pleased to pass the information along to Rhema. “It is. Grick was supposed to finish you off. Steg was supposed to trail him, and Grick did not know our father dragon had sent Steg behind him. When Grick was overcome and thrown in jail, Steg returned here to set up the ambush.”

Semeion and Charis looked to Ischarus. The tall fighter smiled slightly and spoke. “Then the game of wits is on. If they know our paths and they know we are coming, then they will be prepared for us. We must find a new path. We must find a trail that they will not expect us to take.”

The fighter that Ischarus and Charis had worked over hard moaned at their feet. Ischarus spun around at the sound. “Curses!” Ischarus couldn’t help but shout as he realized the conversation had caused him to forget his job. “We have to bind them before they wake or it’ll be much more difficult!”

The trio set off binding the fallen fighters while Rhema continued to talk to the one who had decided against fighting. “We are going to take you back to Scarhaus and place you in prison. You have no choice in this matter if you wish to remain unharmed. Do you understand?”

The woman scowled a bit, but nodded after a few seconds of thought.

Rhema continued her directions. “However, since you did not raise a weapon against us I will put in a good word for you and you may not be charged. When we return from Quehalost – or two weeks in the event we cannot return – you will be tried. That’ll give you time to think about your choices and determine your future. It’ll give you time to think about whether you’d rather continue to live serving an evil master like your dragon father or whether you find more honor in our mercy. Your dragon father would have us killed. You’ll notice that not only were your lives spared but your party’s wounds that we inflicted have been treated.”

The fighter spoke nothing in return. A sour look settled over her face. However, she offered up no resistance and after the party managed to find their opponent’s horses they brought the group of highwaymen back to Scarhaus for jail and an eventual trial. Rhema argued hard for leniency in sentence for the female fighter who had not fought against them. In the end Rhema’s arguments won her a cell in a separate area of the jail where the restrictions and punishments were not as severe. The party decided to spend the rest of the day in Scarhaus looking for maps that might allow them to find a new path in the morning. When evening came, they settled back in for a second night at Rapheus’ inn. This time, Rhena was sure to give Mardak the attention that he longed for.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The next day the party woke before the sun crept over the horizon. In a matter of minutes they had Rapheus out of bed to bring them their horses. They were more than pleased to be able to leave Scarhaus and travel a good half-hour before the sun began to show above the treetops. The previous night the party decided to make an early start in the hope that the maneuver might enable them to escape detection if yet another group of Drakontai were following them.

This time they headed east out of Scarhaus and passed along the outskirts of Ardensdale. Ardensdale was known for its hunter’s guild; although the village itself only had a few hundred people if that many. The traveling foursome assumed that since Ardensdale had so few people living within it there would be little risk of traveling so close to its boundaries. At this point in their journey they wanted as few people as possible to know of their coming. To be safe they passed only along the very outskirts of the village.

By noon the party had begun to climb the gradual inclines leading to the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. After a few more hours of climbing they found the face of the rock that they were looking for. There was a simple hole in the mountain with an outcropping of stone directly above it. In the few maps and charts they could find in Scarhaus this hole in the mountain was called the Cyclopean Fissure. It had gotten the name many centuries ago since the massive outcropping of stone overtop the hole looked very much like a massive hairy eyebrow over a single wide eye.

The party also discovered that there were stories about this entrance being cursed. The resulting reputation meant that this road was less traveled. That reference alone spoke volumes about the trail because few of the passageways into Quehalost were traveled frequently. If this passageway was frequented less frequently than the others then it must be hardly ever used at all. This was a designation that suited Ischarus and his friends perfectly. The road less traveled might be a simpler path to take in the long run.

The party quickly dismounted from their horses and Ischarus took the lead from Rhema. Shauvry snorted as Elistra passed her, but Rhema quickly settled the dominant horse down. Rhema followed after Ischarus with Semeion following her. Charis and her great skill with the pick pulled up the rear of the traveling group. Once they had passed into the tunnel, Ischarus stopped when he could no longer see.

As he stopped his progression he spoke loud enough for the whole party to hear. “Semeion, would you do me the favor of lighting my sword with your magic?”

Semeion’s eyes rolled back for a few seconds while Semeion searched within his mind and brought forth the magical command. “Arack!” Semeion stretched out his hand towards Ischarus’ weapon and the sword began to glow with a soft bluish yellow light. “What we need the next time that we buy weapons is to make sure that we have enough money to afford something magical. Master Sathwright was a master at creating magical weapons that would glow on command and cease on another command. He had even perfected his technique enough that had had over twenty different hues of light in which any given item could shine. I guess that’s a bit misleading. The buyer had to pick one of the hues that my master would use in the enchantment process. From that point on, the color was always the same.”

Rhema chuckled a bit at her own thoughts as the party began to walk forward and continue talking. “You know, we’d sure have to make sure our command words were all different, though.”

Charis quickly agreed. “I was just thinking the same thing! Wouldn’t it be odd to have the weapons or items all tuned into the same command so that they would all turn on or off with only one of us speaking? That could be a real nightmare!”

Ischarus chimed in his opinion from the front of the party. “Yeah, but imagine the money we could make in a local tavern showing off our power of suggestion!”

The party had a good laugh and continued talking for almost a good hour as they walked through the darkened cavernous tunnel. The conversations constantly lead them back to reminiscing about Rhema’s home in Huetown. They spoke of their most recent trip home in terms of friends, family, the local servants of the villa, and even Grick’s stay in prison. As they journeyed through the mountains they knew that the next light they would see would be in a hostile land that would think nothing of their destruction. Therefore, subconsciously their thoughts continued to return joyously to their home.

Suddenly Ischarus pulled up short and instantly sheathed his sword. The effect of this maneuver was to cast the party in the pitch blackness of the tunnel.

Rhema whispered. “What’s up, Ischarus?” She was closest to him and was the first to notice his intent to stop.

Ischarus whispered in return just loud enough that Semeion and Charis could only hear if they strained their ears. “I heard what sounded like a splash of water further down the tunnel. It was the kind of splash that I’ve heard time and time again when I step into a puddle on a street. It wasn’t a dripping, it was a solid splash.”

Nobody in the party spoke for several minutes as they all listened for any other sign of movement. Before too long, Rhema caught the sound of a faint dripping in the distance. “There, in the distance ahead of us. I hear a faint dripping.”

Ischarus listened hard, and he heard the dripping sound as well. “Yeah, I can hear it now, too. But I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the …”

Ischarus stopped his sentence when he realized that he was rudely interrupted by the sound of bare feet slapping against stone. The sound was drawing nearer and nearer. It was charging down the tunnel in their direction. As the footfalls drew closer to the party they could see no light source coming with the slapping footsteps. Semeion’s mind quickly guessed that their opponent didn’t need light to see for one reason or another and he called out to Ischarus in the front. “Ischarus, the light! They know where we are and we must be able to see them, too!”

Ischarus quickly drew out his sword once more. It was a fortuitous draw. As the light burst into the tunnel, the blade of the sword was met with a heavy force. Ischarus’ blade was knocked harmlessly into his own chest, but the effect of the weapon draw was essentially a well timed parry. Ischarus saw another blade heading for his person and stepped enough to the right to evade the strike. As Ischarus looked to his assailants he found them difficult to see in the magical light. Their skin was nearly identical in color to the gray stone around them. The creatures had an almost camouflaging nature about them with regard to the tunnel walls.

The creature that had struck first swung again as Ischarus tried to ready himself. This creature’s attack was also easily sidestepped. Ischarus could hear Charis drawing her weapon behind him. He could also hear Rhema beginning to speak in the voice that he had come to recognize as her gift.

Her words came softly and filled with confidence. “There is no need for aggression, friends. If we are trespassing upon your land you merely need to step back and we can talk this matter out. We were unaware that this ground might belong to other people.”

The leading gray skinned creature pivoted its hips slightly in her direction and let out a simple growl toward Rhema. It bared its teeth as it growled and for the first time Rhema got a good glimpse of its face. It looked as though it had two rows of razor sharp teeth within its mouth. Yet this was not the most disturbing fact about the creature’s opposing them. In the place where there should have been eyes there was a simple flesh colored void.

Both of the creatures’ noses were wide and flat and they used these large nostrils to suck in a significant amount of air just before they swung each time. After sucking in a deep breath the creatures returned its focus upon Ischarus and slashed out with their primitive axes. Ischarus was able to parry these attacks before thinking about launching one of his own.

Rhema yelled as her thoughts caught up with her ability to see the party’s assailants. “They’ve got no eyes!” And my ability to charm them is all but ineffective!”

Charis yelled as she ran past Semeion. Her pick was already drawn. “Semeion, guard the horses!” She weaved her way through Semeion, Thana, Rhema, Shauvry, and Elistra before arriving at Ischarus’ side. She took a simple swing at one of the large gray colored humanoids. She had hoped that her strike might just catch it off guard since she had come from the back of the pack. Her hope was granted and her blow found its way through the creatures tougher than normal hide. The gray assailant didn’t wear any armor, so it was not a difficult choice for Charis to figure out where to swing.

Ischarus deflected another blow as he tried to swing a strike against the one that Charis had just managed to hit. Ischarus’ blow was weakened enough by his need to stand defensively that he could not muster any sort of power behind the assault. His blow landed on the creature’s tough hide without penetrating and wounding the creature.

The first creature to strike out at Ischarus let out a soft howl. Ischarus noted that had he not seen the creature make the noise he would have considered it more of a moan than anything else. However, he did see the creature tilt its head back like a wolf and bring forth the howl. The sound was almost perfectly modulated for the tunnels and Rhema noted that the sound carried considerably well within the tunnel walls. The creature finished the howl with an overhand smash against Ischarus. This blow managed to force its way past Ischarus’ parry and land hard upon his shoulder. Ischarus winced in pain as he noticed his blood was visible on the gray warrior’s simple axe.

Rhema saw Ischarus take the blow and called her thoughts out to him. “I bet that howl wasn’t simply a shout of exultation. I’d expect more company before too long, Ischarus.” As she watched him wince from the pain caused by the axe, her mind leapt forth in a mental assault upon the same one that had struck Ischarus. The creature yelped in pain. The sound that came from its mouth was quite similar to that of a wolf that had just been bitten or surprised. This creature now glared past Ischarus at Rhema as if it knew where the mental attack had originated from. In a savage fashion the gray skinned creature exposed its own double set of razor sharp teeth.

The other gray assailant switched opponents and swung wildly at Charis. Its strong swing overcame Charis’ mild defense and battered her pick out of the way. The Drakontos felt the cold stone axe head scrape across her skin. When she looked down she was grateful to realize that the wound was not serious. Ischarus had been hit for much worse. She returned the blow to the one that she had struck moments ago. The head of her pick sunk much more deeply into its flesh of the creature than it had just done to her. This creature yelped in pain much like the other one yelp at Rhema’s mental assault.

Ischarus was irate at himself over the fact that he had allowed his defenses to be penetrated so easily. He brought his sword in an upwardly curving arc against the creature that had just struck him. The edge of the sword missed gray flesh by a matter of inches as the beast began to pull away from him to dodge the coming blow. The gray figure let out another quick set of grunts and stepped back into the shadows.

Rhema thought about attacking the one who remained against Charis, but thought better then wasting her power upon an enemy that may have been hit hard enough so as to retreat. The second gray creature did in fact move back into the shadows. Ischarus and Charis stood with their weapons on the ready in case there was another attempt at an ambush.

Semeion spoke first. “Anyone know what those things were?” His curiosity had been aroused and he felt bad about having not much of an avenue to use his magic in such cramped fighting quarters. He was not only behind the other three members of his party but he was behind all the horses as well. It was simply impossible to use his magic through all of that flesh.

Charis stowed her pick and turned to make sure that Ischarus’ wound was not too serious. Rhema shook her head at Semeion’s question. “I’ve got nothing. I’ve not seen anything like those creatures in the other tunnels that we’ve taken under the mountains.”

Ischarus concurred, wincing a bit at first as Charis examined his wound. “No, I’d definitely remember fighting those things. I never realized how creepy it is to fight an opponent that has empty flesh colored sockets where the eyes should be.”

Semeion mused over Ischarus’ words and then felt the need to reassert Rhema’s earlier point. “Yeah. But why develop eyes if you live in an area that has no natural light? For that matter, why color skin as an attempt to camouflage themselves? Either way, I doubt that’s the last we’ll see of them. I agree with Rhema. That howl seemed to have more of a meaning than a simple battle cry.”

Ischarus scowled as Charis pressed hard against his skin to stop the bleeding from the deep wound. “Perhaps. With a bit of luck, however, our show of force was enough to convince them to stay away.”


[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The next day the party woke before the sun crept over the horizon. In a matter of minutes they had Rapheus out of bed to bring them their horses. They were more than pleased to be able to leave Scarhaus and travel a good half-hour before the sun began to show above the treetops. The previous night the party decided to make an early start in the hope that the maneuver might enable them to escape detection if yet another group of Drakontai were following them.

This time they headed east out of Scarhaus and passed along the outskirts of Ardensdale. Ardensdale was known for its hunter’s guild; although the village itself only had a few hundred people if that many. The traveling foursome assumed that since Ardensdale had so few people living within it there would be little risk of traveling so close to its boundaries. At this point in their journey they wanted as few people as possible to know of their coming. To be safe they passed only along the very outskirts of the village.

By noon the party had begun to climb the gradual inclines leading to the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. After a few more hours of climbing they found the face of the rock that they were looking for. There was a simple hole in the mountain with an outcropping of stone directly above it. In the few maps and charts they could find in Scarhaus this hole in the mountain was called the Cyclopean Fissure. It had gotten the name many centuries ago since the massive outcropping of stone overtop the hole looked very much like a massive hairy eyebrow over a single wide eye.

The party also discovered that there were stories about this entrance being cursed. The resulting reputation meant that this road was less traveled. That reference alone spoke volumes about the trail because few of the passageways into Quehalost were traveled frequently. If this passageway was frequented less frequently than the others then it must be hardly ever used at all. This was a designation that suited Ischarus and his friends perfectly. The road less traveled might be a simpler path to take in the long run.

The party quickly dismounted from their horses and Ischarus took the lead from Rhema. Shauvry snorted as Elistra passed her, but Rhema quickly settled the dominant horse down. Rhema followed after Ischarus with Semeion following her. Charis and her great skill with the pick pulled up the rear of the traveling group. Once they had passed into the tunnel, Ischarus stopped when he could no longer see.

As he stopped his progression he spoke loud enough for the whole party to hear. “Semeion, would you do me the favor of lighting my sword with your magic?”

Semeion’s eyes rolled back for a few seconds while Semeion searched within his mind and brought forth the magical command. “Arack!” Semeion stretched out his hand towards Ischarus’ weapon and the sword began to glow with a soft bluish yellow light. “What we need the next time that we buy weapons is to make sure that we have enough money to afford something magical. Master Sathwright was a master at creating magical weapons that would glow on command and cease on another command. He had even perfected his technique enough that had had over twenty different hues of light in which any given item could shine. I guess that’s a bit misleading. The buyer had to pick one of the hues that my master would use in the enchantment process. From that point on, the color was always the same.”

Rhema chuckled a bit at her own thoughts as the party began to walk forward and continue talking. “You know, we’d sure have to make sure our command words were all different, though.”

Charis quickly agreed. “I was just thinking the same thing! Wouldn’t it be odd to have the weapons or items all tuned into the same command so that they would all turn on or off with only one of us speaking? That could be a real nightmare!”

Ischarus chimed in his opinion from the front of the party. “Yeah, but imagine the money we could make in a local tavern showing off our power of suggestion!”

The party had a good laugh and continued talking for almost a good hour as they walked through the darkened cavernous tunnel. The conversations constantly lead them back to reminiscing about Rhema’s home in Huetown. They spoke of their most recent trip home in terms of friends, family, the local servants of the villa, and even Grick’s stay in prison. As they journeyed through the mountains they knew that the next light they would see would be in a hostile land that would think nothing of their destruction. Therefore, subconsciously their thoughts continued to return joyously to their home.

Suddenly Ischarus pulled up short and instantly sheathed his sword. The effect of this maneuver was to cast the party in the pitch blackness of the tunnel.

Rhema whispered. “What’s up, Ischarus?” She was closest to him and was the first to notice his intent to stop.

Ischarus whispered in return just loud enough that Semeion and Charis could only hear if they strained their ears. “I heard what sounded like a splash of water further down the tunnel. It was the kind of splash that I’ve heard time and time again when I step into a puddle on a street. It wasn’t a dripping, it was a solid splash.”

Nobody in the party spoke for several minutes as they all listened for any other sign of movement. Before too long, Rhema caught the sound of a faint dripping in the distance. “There, in the distance ahead of us. I hear a faint dripping.”

Ischarus listened hard, and he heard the dripping sound as well. “Yeah, I can hear it now, too. But I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the …”

Ischarus stopped his sentence when he realized that he was rudely interrupted by the sound of bare feet slapping against stone. The sound was drawing nearer and nearer. It was charging down the tunnel in their direction. As the footfalls drew closer to the party they could see no light source coming with the slapping footsteps. Semeion’s mind quickly guessed that their opponent didn’t need light to see for one reason or another and he called out to Ischarus in the front. “Ischarus, the light! They know where we are and we must be able to see them, too!”

Ischarus quickly drew out his sword once more. It was a fortuitous draw. As the light burst into the tunnel, the blade of the sword was met with a heavy force. Ischarus’ blade was knocked harmlessly into his own chest, but the effect of the weapon draw was essentially a well timed parry. Ischarus saw another blade heading for his person and stepped enough to the right to evade the strike. As Ischarus looked to his assailants he found them difficult to see in the magical light. Their skin was nearly identical in color to the gray stone around them. The creatures had an almost camouflaging nature about them with regard to the tunnel walls.

The creature that had struck first swung again as Ischarus tried to ready himself. This creature’s attack was also easily sidestepped. Ischarus could hear Charis drawing her weapon behind him. He could also hear Rhema beginning to speak in the voice that he had come to recognize as her gift.

Her words came softly and filled with confidence. “There is no need for aggression, friends. If we are trespassing upon your land you merely need to step back and we can talk this matter out. We were unaware that this ground might belong to other people.”

The leading gray skinned creature pivoted its hips slightly in her direction and let out a simple growl toward Rhema. It bared its teeth as it growled and for the first time Rhema got a good glimpse of its face. It looked as though it had two rows of razor sharp teeth within its mouth. Yet this was not the most disturbing fact about the creature’s opposing them. In the place where there should have been eyes there was a simple flesh colored void.

Both of the creatures’ noses were wide and flat and they used these large nostrils to suck in a significant amount of air just before they swung each time. After sucking in a deep breath the creatures returned its focus upon Ischarus and slashed out with their primitive axes. Ischarus was able to parry these attacks before thinking about launching one of his own.

Rhema yelled as her thoughts caught up with her ability to see the party’s assailants. “They’ve got no eyes!” And my ability to charm them is all but ineffective!”

Charis yelled as she ran past Semeion. Her pick was already drawn. “Semeion, guard the horses!” She weaved her way through Semeion, Thana, Rhema, Shauvry, and Elistra before arriving at Ischarus’ side. She took a simple swing at one of the large gray colored humanoids. She had hoped that her strike might just catch it off guard since she had come from the back of the pack. Her hope was granted and her blow found its way through the creatures tougher than normal hide. The gray assailant didn’t wear any armor, so it was not a difficult choice for Charis to figure out where to swing.

Ischarus deflected another blow as he tried to swing a strike against the one that Charis had just managed to hit. Ischarus’ blow was weakened enough by his need to stand defensively that he could not muster any sort of power behind the assault. His blow landed on the creature’s tough hide without penetrating and wounding the creature.

The first creature to strike out at Ischarus let out a soft howl. Ischarus noted that had he not seen the creature make the noise he would have considered it more of a moan than anything else. However, he did see the creature tilt its head back like a wolf and bring forth the howl. The sound was almost perfectly modulated for the tunnels and Rhema noted that the sound carried considerably well within the tunnel walls. The creature finished the howl with an overhand smash against Ischarus. This blow managed to force its way past Ischarus’ parry and land hard upon his shoulder. Ischarus winced in pain as he noticed his blood was visible on the gray warrior’s simple axe.

Rhema saw Ischarus take the blow and called her thoughts out to him. “I bet that howl wasn’t simply a shout of exultation. I’d expect more company before too long, Ischarus.” As she watched him wince from the pain caused by the axe, her mind leapt forth in a mental assault upon the same one that had struck Ischarus. The creature yelped in pain. The sound that came from its mouth was quite similar to that of a wolf that had just been bitten or surprised. This creature now glared past Ischarus at Rhema as if it knew where the mental attack had originated from. In a savage fashion the gray skinned creature exposed its own double set of razor sharp teeth.

The other gray assailant switched opponents and swung wildly at Charis. Its strong swing overcame Charis’ mild defense and battered her pick out of the way. The Drakontos felt the cold stone axe head scrape across her skin. When she looked down she was grateful to realize that the wound was not serious. Ischarus had been hit for much worse. She returned the blow to the one that she had struck moments ago. The head of her pick sunk much more deeply into its flesh of the creature than it had just done to her. This creature yelped in pain much like the other one yelp at Rhema’s mental assault.

Ischarus was irate at himself over the fact that he had allowed his defenses to be penetrated so easily. He brought his sword in an upwardly curving arc against the creature that had just struck him. The edge of the sword missed gray flesh by a matter of inches as the beast began to pull away from him to dodge the coming blow. The gray figure let out another quick set of grunts and stepped back into the shadows.

Rhema thought about attacking the one who remained against Charis, but thought better then wasting her power upon an enemy that may have been hit hard enough so as to retreat. The second gray creature did in fact move back into the shadows. Ischarus and Charis stood with their weapons on the ready in case there was another attempt at an ambush.

Semeion spoke first. “Anyone know what those things were?” His curiosity had been aroused and he felt bad about having not much of an avenue to use his magic in such cramped fighting quarters. He was not only behind the other three members of his party but he was behind all the horses as well. It was simply impossible to use his magic through all of that flesh.

Charis stowed her pick and turned to make sure that Ischarus’ wound was not too serious. Rhema shook her head at Semeion’s question. “I’ve got nothing. I’ve not seen anything like those creatures in the other tunnels that we’ve taken under the mountains.”

Ischarus concurred, wincing a bit at first as Charis examined his wound. “No, I’d definitely remember fighting those things. I never realized how creepy it is to fight an opponent that has empty flesh colored sockets where the eyes should be.”

Semeion mused over Ischarus’ words and then felt the need to reassert Rhema’s earlier point. “Yeah. But why develop eyes if you live in an area that has no natural light? For that matter, why color skin as an attempt to camouflage themselves? Either way, I doubt that’s the last we’ll see of them. I agree with Rhema. That howl seemed to have more of a meaning than a simple battle cry.”

Ischarus scowled as Charis pressed hard against his skin to stop the bleeding from the deep wound. “Perhaps. With a bit of luck, however, our show of force was enough to convince them to stay away.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Semeion turned a sharp look in Ischarus’ direction as the figures could be heard retreating further into the darkness of the tunnel. “If I can make a suggestion, keep your sword out next time so that you can see them coming.”

Semeion didn’t meant it to come out as sharply as it had, and Ischarus heard it a bit more sharply than Semeion actually said it. “This coming from the one who stood back and tended the horses! You aren’t the one who got injured and paid the price for that decision!”

Semeion looked a bit surprised at Ischarus’ outburst. “I didn’t mean it like that!” He objected stubbornly to Ischarus’ retort.

Ischarus shot him an irritated glance and was about to speak when Charis stepped between them on her way back to Abijou’s side. “I think what he meant, Ischarus, is that since they don’t seem to have any eyes then there’s little reason to stow your sword. If they don’t depend on light, they can locate us by other means. We don’t have the same luxury. But if they don’t need the light and we do, you might as well just keep it out.”

Both Ischarus and Semeion looked as though they were about to speak when Charis cut them off again with her words. “And, yes, Semeion, it did come out sharply whether you meant it to be that sharp or not.”

Rhema jumped in on the high-road bandwagon and Charis was more than welcome to allow her participation. “Now come on, the both of you. We’ve had a long couple of days ride and the setbacks from yesterday’s fog and fight didn’t put any of us in a particularly good mood. Add that to the fact that we are essentially walking blindly through the tunnels simply trying to find our way out to the other side and we have the making for short fuses. I suggest we put the energy coming from our frustration to work in moving away quickly before those things come back with reinforcements.”

Ischarus’ look softened a bit, and Semeion gave a slight smile. “I am sorry if you were injured because I could not use my magic, friend. You bear your pain well.”

Ischarus burst into a hearty laugh, releasing the anger that his injuries had caused inside. “I bear my wounds as well as a four year old boy who has been slapped on the wrist and told to go stand in the corner! But your words of peace are accepted nonetheless. Come now, Rhema gave good counsel. Let’s go before reinforcements come.”

Charis rose from the ground where she had been crouched as she tended her own wounds. “Too late. I hear bare feet striking against the stone, and this time there is more of them.”

Ischarus turned and faced the tunnel from the direction of the noise. Several howls of exaltation could be heard as the footsteps grew closer. “Those howls I don’t need translated. They expect victory.”

The dull slapping of flat-footed skin upon the stone increased in both intensity and pace. Charis’ eyes darted back and forth as she focused her thoughts. “I count four, Ischarus. They’ll not be able to fight more than three abreast in this tunnel, and neither can we. Their numbers will give them no greater advantage until the first one is dropped and a fresh replacement comes forth.”

Ischarus smiled broadly. He yelled a shout of exaltation to rival the exultation of the howls that came through the tunnels at their approach. “Then brace yourself against their charge and make the first ones fall quickly!”

Rhema noted that Ischarus seemed to be enjoying this moment of retribution far too much. “Remember our pledge, Ischarus!”

As the first of the gray skinned assailants broke into the area of light provided by Ischarus’ sword he yelled back, “But of course, milady. We shall not have anyone fainting at the sight of death around here!”

As if to allow Ischarus’ slightly mocking reply to pass straight through her, Rhema yelled forward, “The one in the middle and the one behind are wounded, Ischarus.”

Charis had noticed what Rhema saw as well. Two of the four bore the marks of battle. There could be no doubt that two of the four had come back to them to fight now that they had reinforcements.

One of the new reinforcements struck hard as it charged down the cavernous tunnel towards Charis. Its savage blow penetrated Charis defenses, knocking her pick to the ground and several pings of metal bouncing off of stone echoed through across the tunnel walls. Charis thought for a moment to pick it up until she realized that her wound from the attack was severe enough to need attention immediately.

Noticing that the assailants were charging hard and catching Ischarus and Charis off guard once more, Rhema focused her mind hard on the middle once as it charged. She recognized this one as the one that she had previously injured herself. She focused her mind upon the head of the foe as it neared the party. As if being struck by an invisible force, the creature dropped its axe and collapsed to the floor. It grasped its head as it lapsed into unconsciousness and eventually lay still upon the floor.

The second newcomer broke for the party at nearly the same time as the first one. Since Rhema had focused her attention on the already wounded one, Ischarus braced his shield to accept the charging blow. With a single quick motion the beast struck the side of Ischarus’ shield with the butt end of his axe, exposing his left flank. A simple turn of the wrist brought the sharp end against Ischarus and dug deep into his side. Thick red blood spilled from the wound as the creature pulled his blade from Ischarus’ side. Rhema winced as she saw the blood. Ischarus dropped to a single knee.

Charis had extended her hand and prepared to heal her own wound when she watched Ischarus be overcome by the serious blow. In a selfless act her hand turned away from her own flesh and rested upon Ischarus’ shoulder. “Bondras-tol Egro!” A yellow radiance emanated from her fingers, beginning with her thumb and circling around her hand until the light passed into Ischarus. Within seconds Ischarus wound was sealed and his strength returned.

However, Ischarus’ run of bad luck would continue for yet another blow. The final assailant – the one still standing who had been wounded from the previous encounter – filled the gap that was left when Rhema used her mental powers to take out the creature now lying upon the floor. As the assailant stepped up to fill the ranks, it took advantage of Ischarus’ recovery period and landed a clean blow across his arm. This wound was much less severe, although Ischarus’ eyes burned with a deep fire of vengeance upon receiving the blow.

As Ischarus rose from Charis’ moment of healing, he focused on the creature that had just struck him across the arm. He recognized the creature as being the most wounded and thus the most vulnerable. His sword flashed forward in a simple attack and pierced the already wounded creature. The blind beast stumbled back from the blow and fell to the ground in pain.

Semeion had been planning to fire one of his energy blasts at the wounded creature, but when he noticed that Ischarus had taken care of him Semeion found a new target. Charis had lost her weapon and was facing an opponent that had already delivered a serious blow. His mouth easily formed the words that had become familiar to him. “Thin-tok.” His fingers extended and the blue energy quickly leapt off his hand and struck the creature that faced off against Charis.

The creature that Semeion had just struck howled in pain as Semeion’s energy ball crashed into its chest. Furious with rage, the beast swung its axe across Charis’ path. Charis saw the attack coming and while she prepared to touch Ischarus again with her healing energies she raised her shield to counter the wild blow. The axe glanced off her steel shield with a loud ring.

Charis followed the defeated attack with a quick magical command of her own. Again she desired to help Ischarus’ pain. “Bondras-tol Egro!” Once more Ischarus was surrounded and healed by the radiant light emanating from her hand.

Rhema watched as the creature missed Charis with a poorly timed wrathful strike. She focused her own mind in vast contrast to the creature’s rage. Rhema shot forth another mental attack. The creature howled once more and for a moment looked as though it would drop its own axe from the crushing pain in its head.

The creature regained control in time to slice off another attack aimed viciously for Charis’ head. Charis deflected the blow again with her shield as she now prepared to heal herself. As the stone axe rang off the steel shield her words of healing could be heard once more echoing through the tunnel. “Bondras-tol Egro!” This time Ischarus was not the recipient of her healing powers. The radiant light wrapped around herself and strengthened her.

As Charis ducked under the attack and healed herself, Rhema knew she still needed protection. She focused her mental attacks once more and forced pain upon the mind of the gray skinned creature. This time the creature tilted back its head in a deep howl of pain and dropped its stone axe onto the floor. The creature dropped to its knees under the pain before collapsing face first onto the floor.

While the creature that was attacking Charis was being fought off by Rhema, Ischarus and Semeion had their hands full against the other creature. The beast took a vicious swing against Ischarus, but the experienced fighter was learning the creature’s tactics. Ischarus parried the axe harmlessly to the side with the help of his own blade. On account of needing to use his sword for the parry, Ischarus was unable to strike seriously at the gray skinned creature and as a result his own attack fell wide. However, when Ischarus’ strike missed wide he could hear Semeion’s voice behind him as an opening in the melee appeared. “Thin-tok” Ischarus watched as the blue energy ball narrowly slid past his own shoulder and landed solidly against the creature.

The beast howled in rage once more, still feeling as though success could be within its grasp. Like its companion, it used its own rage to strike furiously towards Ischarus. Ischarus saw an opportunity, but in order to take advantage of the opening he dropped his sword on the ground as he ducked beneath the creature’s attack. For the first time in life or death combat Ischarus exploded in magical power of his own. “Fashiir-gat!”

Ischarus extended his fingers in the direction of his opponent. For only a split second, each small portion of air between himself and the creature froze. Once the frozen air extended out and reached the creature the particles next to Ischarus’ hand appeared to melt and return to normal. The area of impact on the skin of the creature turned a faint frosty color before also returning to normal. The creature howled again at the pain and the recognition that its ally who had been attacking Charis had now fallen. Ischarus yelled in pure delight at the success of the spell. “Ha! My first ever combat spell!”

Semeion yelled from behind him. “Well cast, Ischarus. Now get back to the swordplay that you excel in!”

Once the opponent attacking Charis had fallen, it meant that the entire party could focus upon the creature still attacking Ischarus. Rhema once more focused her mind against the beast and this attack only caused a mild reaction in the gray skinned creature. The pain from the attack was enough to force its own attack to be lessened. Ischarus was easily able to deflect the creature’s blow. Ischarus rose after casting his spell and using his shield to deflect the creature’s attack. He picked up his sword and drove it in an upward thrust toward the creature. The blind creature heard the attack coming and despite missing Ischarus it was able to twist away from the blow.

Semeion chided from the back row once more, “Ha! Well, perhaps you should go back to casting spells, then!”

While Semeion yelled, Charis retrieved her weapon from the ground and half-heartedly attacked the remaining creature. Her blow missed the beast, but it was enough to alert it to the fact that it was slowly being outnumbered.

The creature adopted a parrying posture and stepped back. It looked as though it was about to howl for reinforcements as the other one had done previously. Rhema noticed the motion and focused her powers once more. She knew that this had already been a costly battle in regard to using her powers, but this last strike was necessary. The creature dropped to a knee in pain. Yet before the rest of the party could take advantage of the position it was back on its feet.

Ischarus and Charis both advanced to challenge the sole remaining adversary. Ischarus struck hard, intentionally drawing the creature’s parry. Charis snuck the long point of her pick into the creature’s side, collapsing it to the ground in pain.

Once the last of the threat had fallen, Ischarus extended his sword away from him in a posture for allowing the most illumination possible. Charis immediately stowed her weapon and began tending the fallen creatures. She shook her head at the seemingly senselessness of the whole combat. They could not allow the creatures to die; it wasn’t their way. However, the creatures would not let the party move on without a fight. It was a horrible predicament to constantly drive one’s opponents to the brink of death and then treat their wounds and mend them so that they could recover after they were long gone. Yet, it was the best they could do at this time. In a cruel world that mandated battles of life or death it was necessary that they fight hard and choose life for all those involved.

Semeion and Rhema worked hard in removing the stone axes in case the gray creatures woke before they could make a serious escape down the tunnel. Once the weapons had been collected and Charis was convinced that their opposition would recover, they set out once more down the unknown tunnels.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion turned a sharp look in Ischarus’ direction as the figures could be heard retreating further into the darkness of the tunnel. “If I can make a suggestion, keep your sword out next time so that you can see them coming.”

Semeion didn’t meant it to come out as sharply as it had, and Ischarus heard it a bit more sharply than Semeion actually said it. “This coming from the one who stood back and tended the horses! You aren’t the one who got injured and paid the price for that decision!”

Semeion looked a bit surprised at Ischarus’ outburst. “I didn’t mean it like that!” He objected stubbornly to Ischarus’ retort.

Ischarus shot him an irritated glance and was about to speak when Charis stepped between them on her way back to Abijou’s side. “I think what he meant, Ischarus, is that since they don’t seem to have any eyes then there’s little reason to stow your sword. If they don’t depend on light, they can locate us by other means. We don’t have the same luxury. But if they don’t need the light and we do, you might as well just keep it out.”

Both Ischarus and Semeion looked as though they were about to speak when Charis cut them off again with her words. “And, yes, Semeion, it did come out sharply whether you meant it to be that sharp or not.”

Rhema jumped in on the high-road bandwagon and Charis was more than welcome to allow her participation. “Now come on, the both of you. We’ve had a long couple of days ride and the setbacks from yesterday’s fog and fight didn’t put any of us in a particularly good mood. Add that to the fact that we are essentially walking blindly through the tunnels simply trying to find our way out to the other side and we have the making for short fuses. I suggest we put the energy coming from our frustration to work in moving away quickly before those things come back with reinforcements.”

Ischarus’ look softened a bit, and Semeion gave a slight smile. “I am sorry if you were injured because I could not use my magic, friend. You bear your pain well.”

Ischarus burst into a hearty laugh, releasing the anger that his injuries had caused inside. “I bear my wounds as well as a four year old boy who has been slapped on the wrist and told to go stand in the corner! But your words of peace are accepted nonetheless. Come now, Rhema gave good counsel. Let’s go before reinforcements come.”

Charis rose from the ground where she had been crouched as she tended her own wounds. “Too late. I hear bare feet striking against the stone, and this time there is more of them.”

Ischarus turned and faced the tunnel from the direction of the noise. Several howls of exaltation could be heard as the footsteps grew closer. “Those howls I don’t need translated. They expect victory.”

The dull slapping of flat-footed skin upon the stone increased in both intensity and pace. Charis’ eyes darted back and forth as she focused her thoughts. “I count four, Ischarus. They’ll not be able to fight more than three abreast in this tunnel, and neither can we. Their numbers will give them no greater advantage until the first one is dropped and a fresh replacement comes forth.”

Ischarus smiled broadly. He yelled a shout of exaltation to rival the exultation of the howls that came through the tunnels at their approach. “Then brace yourself against their charge and make the first ones fall quickly!”

Rhema noted that Ischarus seemed to be enjoying this moment of retribution far too much. “Remember our pledge, Ischarus!”

As the first of the gray skinned assailants broke into the area of light provided by Ischarus’ sword he yelled back, “But of course, milady. We shall not have anyone fainting at the sight of death around here!”

As if to allow Ischarus’ slightly mocking reply to pass straight through her, Rhema yelled forward, “The one in the middle and the one behind are wounded, Ischarus.”

Charis had noticed what Rhema saw as well. Two of the four bore the marks of battle. There could be no doubt that two of the four had come back to them to fight now that they had reinforcements.

One of the new reinforcements struck hard as it charged down the cavernous tunnel towards Charis. Its savage blow penetrated Charis defenses, knocking her pick to the ground and several pings of metal bouncing off of stone echoed through across the tunnel walls. Charis thought for a moment to pick it up until she realized that her wound from the attack was severe enough to need attention immediately.

Noticing that the assailants were charging hard and catching Ischarus and Charis off guard once more, Rhema focused her mind hard on the middle once as it charged. She recognized this one as the one that she had previously injured herself. She focused her mind upon the head of the foe as it neared the party. As if being struck by an invisible force, the creature dropped its axe and collapsed to the floor. It grasped its head as it lapsed into unconsciousness and eventually lay still upon the floor.

The second newcomer broke for the party at nearly the same time as the first one. Since Rhema had focused her attention on the already wounded one, Ischarus braced his shield to accept the charging blow. With a single quick motion the beast struck the side of Ischarus’ shield with the butt end of his axe, exposing his left flank. A simple turn of the wrist brought the sharp end against Ischarus and dug deep into his side. Thick red blood spilled from the wound as the creature pulled his blade from Ischarus’ side. Rhema winced as she saw the blood. Ischarus dropped to a single knee.

Charis had extended her hand and prepared to heal her own wound when she watched Ischarus be overcome by the serious blow. In a selfless act her hand turned away from her own flesh and rested upon Ischarus’ shoulder. “Bondras-tol Egro!” A yellow radiance emanated from her fingers, beginning with her thumb and circling around her hand until the light passed into Ischarus. Within seconds Ischarus wound was sealed and his strength returned.

However, Ischarus’ run of bad luck would continue for yet another blow. The final assailant – the one still standing who had been wounded from the previous encounter – filled the gap that was left when Rhema used her mental powers to take out the creature now lying upon the floor. As the assailant stepped up to fill the ranks, it took advantage of Ischarus’ recovery period and landed a clean blow across his arm. This wound was much less severe, although Ischarus’ eyes burned with a deep fire of vengeance upon receiving the blow.

As Ischarus rose from Charis’ moment of healing, he focused on the creature that had just struck him across the arm. He recognized the creature as being the most wounded and thus the most vulnerable. His sword flashed forward in a simple attack and pierced the already wounded creature. The blind beast stumbled back from the blow and fell to the ground in pain.

Semeion had been planning to fire one of his energy blasts at the wounded creature, but when he noticed that Ischarus had taken care of him Semeion found a new target. Charis had lost her weapon and was facing an opponent that had already delivered a serious blow. His mouth easily formed the words that had become familiar to him. “Thin-tok.” His fingers extended and the blue energy quickly leapt off his hand and struck the creature that faced off against Charis.

The creature that Semeion had just struck howled in pain as Semeion’s energy ball crashed into its chest. Furious with rage, the beast swung its axe across Charis’ path. Charis saw the attack coming and while she prepared to touch Ischarus again with her healing energies she raised her shield to counter the wild blow. The axe glanced off her steel shield with a loud ring.

Charis followed the defeated attack with a quick magical command of her own. Again she desired to help Ischarus’ pain. “Bondras-tol Egro!” Once more Ischarus was surrounded and healed by the radiant light emanating from her hand.

Rhema watched as the creature missed Charis with a poorly timed wrathful strike. She focused her own mind in vast contrast to the creature’s rage. Rhema shot forth another mental attack. The creature howled once more and for a moment looked as though it would drop its own axe from the crushing pain in its head.

The creature regained control in time to slice off another attack aimed viciously for Charis’ head. Charis deflected the blow again with her shield as she now prepared to heal herself. As the stone axe rang off the steel shield her words of healing could be heard once more echoing through the tunnel. “Bondras-tol Egro!” This time Ischarus was not the recipient of her healing powers. The radiant light wrapped around herself and strengthened her.

As Charis ducked under the attack and healed herself, Rhema knew she still needed protection. She focused her mental attacks once more and forced pain upon the mind of the gray skinned creature. This time the creature tilted back its head in a deep howl of pain and dropped its stone axe onto the floor. The creature dropped to its knees under the pain before collapsing face first onto the floor.

While the creature that was attacking Charis was being fought off by Rhema, Ischarus and Semeion had their hands full against the other creature. The beast took a vicious swing against Ischarus, but the experienced fighter was learning the creature’s tactics. Ischarus parried the axe harmlessly to the side with the help of his own blade. On account of needing to use his sword for the parry, Ischarus was unable to strike seriously at the gray skinned creature and as a result his own attack fell wide. However, when Ischarus’ strike missed wide he could hear Semeion’s voice behind him as an opening in the melee appeared. “Thin-tok” Ischarus watched as the blue energy ball narrowly slid past his own shoulder and landed solidly against the creature.

The beast howled in rage once more, still feeling as though success could be within its grasp. Like its companion, it used its own rage to strike furiously towards Ischarus. Ischarus saw an opportunity, but in order to take advantage of the opening he dropped his sword on the ground as he ducked beneath the creature’s attack. For the first time in life or death combat Ischarus exploded in magical power of his own. “Fashiir-gat!”

Ischarus extended his fingers in the direction of his opponent. For only a split second, each small portion of air between himself and the creature froze. Once the frozen air extended out and reached the creature the particles next to Ischarus’ hand appeared to melt and return to normal. The area of impact on the skin of the creature turned a faint frosty color before also returning to normal. The creature howled again at the pain and the recognition that its ally who had been attacking Charis had now fallen. Ischarus yelled in pure delight at the success of the spell. “Ha! My first ever combat spell!”

Semeion yelled from behind him. “Well cast, Ischarus. Now get back to the swordplay that you excel in!”

Once the opponent attacking Charis had fallen, it meant that the entire party could focus upon the creature still attacking Ischarus. Rhema once more focused her mind against the beast and this attack only caused a mild reaction in the gray skinned creature. The pain from the attack was enough to force its own attack to be lessened. Ischarus was easily able to deflect the creature’s blow. Ischarus rose after casting his spell and using his shield to deflect the creature’s attack. He picked up his sword and drove it in an upward thrust toward the creature. The blind creature heard the attack coming and despite missing Ischarus it was able to twist away from the blow.

Semeion chided from the back row once more, “Ha! Well, perhaps you should go back to casting spells, then!”

While Semeion yelled, Charis retrieved her weapon from the ground and half-heartedly attacked the remaining creature. Her blow missed the beast, but it was enough to alert it to the fact that it was slowly being outnumbered.

The creature adopted a parrying posture and stepped back. It looked as though it was about to howl for reinforcements as the other one had done previously. Rhema noticed the motion and focused her powers once more. She knew that this had already been a costly battle in regard to using her powers, but this last strike was necessary. The creature dropped to a knee in pain. Yet before the rest of the party could take advantage of the position it was back on its feet.

Ischarus and Charis both advanced to challenge the sole remaining adversary. Ischarus struck hard, intentionally drawing the creature’s parry. Charis snuck the long point of her pick into the creature’s side, collapsing it to the ground in pain.

Once the last of the threat had fallen, Ischarus extended his sword away from him in a posture for allowing the most illumination possible. Charis immediately stowed her weapon and began tending the fallen creatures. She shook her head at the seemingly senselessness of the whole combat. They could not allow the creatures to die; it wasn’t their way. However, the creatures would not let the party move on without a fight. It was a horrible predicament to constantly drive one’s opponents to the brink of death and then treat their wounds and mend them so that they could recover after they were long gone. Yet, it was the best they could do at this time. In a cruel world that mandated battles of life or death it was necessary that they fight hard and choose life for all those involved.

Semeion and Rhema worked hard in removing the stone axes in case the gray creatures woke before they could make a serious escape down the tunnel. Once the weapons had been collected and Charis was convinced that their opposition would recover, they set out once more down the unknown tunnels.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The party walked cautiously through the tunnels for another hour before Ischarus showed any sign of slowing. Once he was sure that they had traveled a good bit away from the last encounter he began to slow his pacing to allow the others to walk in a more tight formation. “I think our horses could use a rest. Considering all that has happened, I think that they’ve been remarkably well tempered. Anyone else concur?”

Rhema took full advantage of the opportunity to rest themselves and the horses. “I don’t know that I can speak to the horses, but I am a bit worried about the wounds that you and Charis took earlier. You didn’t stop to treat them before we left and I know at least in your case that Charis’ healing could not have cured all of your injuries. If nothing else, a rest would provide us a bit of time to relax, catch our breath, check out your wounds, and talk about what lies behind us.”

Semeion added to Rhema’s comments as he closed the distance between himself and Ischarus. “Don’t forget about what still lies before us, Rhema.”

Rhema answered Semeion’s assertion. “Unfortunately, we don’t know exactly where this tunnel will bring us out. And neither Ischarus nor myself knows Quehalost well enough to be able to know what to expect. Talking about what lies before us may not be all that easy to predict.”

Ischarus spoke up, intentionally ignoring the conversation path that Semeion and Rhema had chosen. He felt it necessary to address his wounded state and alleviate any concern. “Besides, I’m fine. There’s no real reason to worry that I won’t be alright. Charis healed me with her magic, I’ll be alright.”

At this point Charis felt the need to step in and back up Rhema’s concern. “And there’s no real reason that I shouldn’t have a good look at you, either. The wounds that you took were fairly severe and my healing magic is not yet all that powerful. I’d feel much better if you allowed me to examine your wounds.”

A proud look of machismo crossed Ischarus face as if to imply that he didn’t need assistance. Rhema saw the look and intervened on Charis’ behalf. Her tone was not unlike a mother whose son was putting up a mild protest of willpower. “Take of your leather coat and strip off that shirt. Charis is a skilled healer and we’ve got the time. Once we saw her skills we knew she would make a great addition to the party. If we aren’t going to use her skills, then why are we risking her life?”

Ischarus smiled as the instinct to follow Rhema’s command kicked in. “Well, if the situation was a little bit different I’d think there was more to that command than merely wanting to make sure I’m healing properly.”

The comment caught Rhema off-guard. She glanced to Ischarus with a look of surprise upon her face, but Ischarus’ face appeared as stone. There was virtually no sign of emotion as he slowly unbuttoned his leather armor coat and peeled it away from his skin. As he did so, he winced considerably.

Charis smirked as Ischarus winced. “See, now? Aren’t you glad that I demanded this examination? You’re obviously still in some kind of pain.”

Ischarus continued his macho protest. “Stiffness from the wound that your magic healed, that’s all.” Having removed his leather, he unfastened the metal hooks that held his shirt together around his body. With another wince of pain he had this removed this layer as well.

Charis snorted in amusement and set to examine his injuries. “Well, it may be mostly stiffness, but your wound is still rather raw. I honestly don’t think that it poses any immediate danger, but if we have a trouble free remainder of the day I’ll cast another healing spell on you before retiring for the evening. That should go a fair way towards making the wound insignificant tomorrow.”

When Charis was done examining him, Ischarus quickly donned his shirt and leather once more. He spotted Semeion sitting up the tunnel a few feet, watching over the horses. He slowly walked towards him, leaving Charis and Rhema to watch the tunnel from the direction that they had just come.

Semeion looked up as he heard Ischarus’ footsteps and spoke. “You’ve honestly got no idea what those things were?”

Ischarus smiled. Semeion had read his mind. “I was actually just about to ask you the same thing, Semeion. In all of your studies you’ve not read of such a beast? They seemed rather magical to me.”

Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows as Ischarus concluded his thought on the possibility of their magical background. He turned his head up the tunnel and stared into the darkness. “Magical? How so? The things never once cast a spell – unless they have learned how to cast spells silently and without even a gesture!”

Ischarus crouched down beside Semeion so that he could lower his volume, although he was not intentionally keeping this discussion from Charis or Rhema. “The creatures didn’t have any eyes at all, Semeion. There must have been some kind of magic behind them to allow them to see. They were difficult opponents as it was. I can’t imagine what they would have been like if they had eyes!”

Semeion rubbed the stubble that had appeared since his last shave back at Rhema’s family villa. “Do me a favor, Ischarus. Sheathe your sword for a moment.”

Ischarus gave Semeion a confused look, but didn’t see any reason not to comply. As soon as the light from his sword was hidden both Semeion and Ischarus heard a shout from down the tunnel.

The shout was from Charis who grew concerned at the loss of light. “Everything alright up there?

Semeion called back in a calm tone. “Couldn’t be better. The light will be back in just a second.” Once he was sure that the women at the other end of their horse pack wouldn’t be yelling anything more, Semeion dragged his fingers slowly across the tunnel floor until he found what he was looking for. His fingers wrapped around a small pebble not more than an inch in diameter. After picking it up and shifting his grip, Semeion threw it hard against the far wall of the tunnel. He could hear Ischarus shift his feet in the direction that he had thrown the rock.

Semeion smiled as he prepared to continue the lesson. He never considered how far he had come since ceasing to be the pupil under his master. “Ischarus, how did you know to turn the way that you did?”

Ischarus replied without hesitation. “Well, that’s rather easy. I heard a noise against … oh. I see what you did here. So you honestly think that those creatures didn’t have any magical qualities about them, its just that their other senses are so much better tuned than ours?”

Semeion nodded, not realizing that he could not be seen without the light of Ischarus’ sword. “That would be my guess. They might be magical, but if they are I have never heard of such beings. My guess is that they have lived among the darkness of the mountains for so long that their eyes have merely vanished. Why carry around a liability like an eye socket when it serves you no purpose other than to be injured?”

Ischarus thought for a moment at Semeion’s assertion before agreeing. “Interesting. If you are correct, that would explain the thick patch of skin covering the place where their eyes should have been. The skin would help protect the vulnerable spot since it wasn’t needed.”

Semeion continued his thought a bit further. “That would also explain their skin. You and I have color in our skin because we dwell on the surface. Our skin has to be able to change colors as a defense against the sun. I’m sure you’ve noticed that people tan the more they spend time outside in the summer months.”

Ischarus drew his sword, having had enough of the darkness. Talking about not being able to see made him uneasy. This discussion reminded him that in darkness the creature’s ability to not be reliant upon sight actually gave them an advantage. “So if they seldom had contact with the sun – perhaps even never – you are saying that their skin would lose its color and turn that shade of gray?”

Semeion smiled at Ischarus’ mental curiosity. “It is only a guess, Ischarus. But you do show great promise. There may be hope for you as a spell caster yet!”

The pair of men enjoyed a hearty laugh as Ischarus began to talk to Semeion about a few of the spells that Brandt had helped him discover. Neither of the men saw the smiles that appeared on the women as they heard the men laughing together and healing the emotional wound that had been opened before their last encounter. Perhaps there was more sense in stopping to rest and heal than they first thought.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party walked cautiously through the tunnels for another hour before Ischarus showed any sign of slowing. Once he was sure that they had traveled a good bit away from the last encounter he began to slow his pacing to allow the others to walk in a more tight formation. “I think our horses could use a rest. Considering all that has happened, I think that they’ve been remarkably well tempered. Anyone else concur?”

Rhema took full advantage of the opportunity to rest themselves and the horses. “I don’t know that I can speak to the horses, but I am a bit worried about the wounds that you and Charis took earlier. You didn’t stop to treat them before we left and I know at least in your case that Charis’ healing could not have cured all of your injuries. If nothing else, a rest would provide us a bit of time to relax, catch our breath, check out your wounds, and talk about what lies behind us.”

Semeion added to Rhema’s comments as he closed the distance between himself and Ischarus. “Don’t forget about what still lies before us, Rhema.”

Rhema answered Semeion’s assertion. “Unfortunately, we don’t know exactly where this tunnel will bring us out. And neither Ischarus nor myself knows Quehalost well enough to be able to know what to expect. Talking about what lies before us may not be all that easy to predict.”

Ischarus spoke up, intentionally ignoring the conversation path that Semeion and Rhema had chosen. He felt it necessary to address his wounded state and alleviate any concern. “Besides, I’m fine. There’s no real reason to worry that I won’t be alright. Charis healed me with her magic, I’ll be alright.”

At this point Charis felt the need to step in and back up Rhema’s concern. “And there’s no real reason that I shouldn’t have a good look at you, either. The wounds that you took were fairly severe and my healing magic is not yet all that powerful. I’d feel much better if you allowed me to examine your wounds.”

A proud look of machismo crossed Ischarus face as if to imply that he didn’t need assistance. Rhema saw the look and intervened on Charis’ behalf. Her tone was not unlike a mother whose son was putting up a mild protest of willpower. “Take of your leather coat and strip off that shirt. Charis is a skilled healer and we’ve got the time. Once we saw her skills we knew she would make a great addition to the party. If we aren’t going to use her skills, then why are we risking her life?”

Ischarus smiled as the instinct to follow Rhema’s command kicked in. “Well, if the situation was a little bit different I’d think there was more to that command than merely wanting to make sure I’m healing properly.”

The comment caught Rhema off-guard. She glanced to Ischarus with a look of surprise upon her face, but Ischarus’ face appeared as stone. There was virtually no sign of emotion as he slowly unbuttoned his leather armor coat and peeled it away from his skin. As he did so, he winced considerably.

Charis smirked as Ischarus winced. “See, now? Aren’t you glad that I demanded this examination? You’re obviously still in some kind of pain.”

Ischarus continued his macho protest. “Stiffness from the wound that your magic healed, that’s all.” Having removed his leather, he unfastened the metal hooks that held his shirt together around his body. With another wince of pain he had this removed this layer as well.

Charis snorted in amusement and set to examine his injuries. “Well, it may be mostly stiffness, but your wound is still rather raw. I honestly don’t think that it poses any immediate danger, but if we have a trouble free remainder of the day I’ll cast another healing spell on you before retiring for the evening. That should go a fair way towards making the wound insignificant tomorrow.”

When Charis was done examining him, Ischarus quickly donned his shirt and leather once more. He spotted Semeion sitting up the tunnel a few feet, watching over the horses. He slowly walked towards him, leaving Charis and Rhema to watch the tunnel from the direction that they had just come.

Semeion looked up as he heard Ischarus’ footsteps and spoke. “You’ve honestly got no idea what those things were?”

Ischarus smiled. Semeion had read his mind. “I was actually just about to ask you the same thing, Semeion. In all of your studies you’ve not read of such a beast? They seemed rather magical to me.”

Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows as Ischarus concluded his thought on the possibility of their magical background. He turned his head up the tunnel and stared into the darkness. “Magical? How so? The things never once cast a spell – unless they have learned how to cast spells silently and without even a gesture!”

Ischarus crouched down beside Semeion so that he could lower his volume, although he was not intentionally keeping this discussion from Charis or Rhema. “The creatures didn’t have any eyes at all, Semeion. There must have been some kind of magic behind them to allow them to see. They were difficult opponents as it was. I can’t imagine what they would have been like if they had eyes!”

Semeion rubbed the stubble that had appeared since his last shave back at Rhema’s family villa. “Do me a favor, Ischarus. Sheathe your sword for a moment.”

Ischarus gave Semeion a confused look, but didn’t see any reason not to comply. As soon as the light from his sword was hidden both Semeion and Ischarus heard a shout from down the tunnel.

The shout was from Charis who grew concerned at the loss of light. “Everything alright up there?

Semeion called back in a calm tone. “Couldn’t be better. The light will be back in just a second.” Once he was sure that the women at the other end of their horse pack wouldn’t be yelling anything more, Semeion dragged his fingers slowly across the tunnel floor until he found what he was looking for. His fingers wrapped around a small pebble not more than an inch in diameter. After picking it up and shifting his grip, Semeion threw it hard against the far wall of the tunnel. He could hear Ischarus shift his feet in the direction that he had thrown the rock.

Semeion smiled as he prepared to continue the lesson. He never considered how far he had come since ceasing to be the pupil under his master. “Ischarus, how did you know to turn the way that you did?”

Ischarus replied without hesitation. “Well, that’s rather easy. I heard a noise against … oh. I see what you did here. So you honestly think that those creatures didn’t have any magical qualities about them, its just that their other senses are so much better tuned than ours?”

Semeion nodded, not realizing that he could not be seen without the light of Ischarus’ sword. “That would be my guess. They might be magical, but if they are I have never heard of such beings. My guess is that they have lived among the darkness of the mountains for so long that their eyes have merely vanished. Why carry around a liability like an eye socket when it serves you no purpose other than to be injured?”

Ischarus thought for a moment at Semeion’s assertion before agreeing. “Interesting. If you are correct, that would explain the thick patch of skin covering the place where their eyes should have been. The skin would help protect the vulnerable spot since it wasn’t needed.”

Semeion continued his thought a bit further. “That would also explain their skin. You and I have color in our skin because we dwell on the surface. Our skin has to be able to change colors as a defense against the sun. I’m sure you’ve noticed that people tan the more they spend time outside in the summer months.”

Ischarus drew his sword, having had enough of the darkness. Talking about not being able to see made him uneasy. This discussion reminded him that in darkness the creature’s ability to not be reliant upon sight actually gave them an advantage. “So if they seldom had contact with the sun – perhaps even never – you are saying that their skin would lose its color and turn that shade of gray?”

Semeion smiled at Ischarus’ mental curiosity. “It is only a guess, Ischarus. But you do show great promise. There may be hope for you as a spell caster yet!”

The pair of men enjoyed a hearty laugh as Ischarus began to talk to Semeion about a few of the spells that Brandt had helped him discover. Neither of the men saw the smiles that appeared on the women as they heard the men laughing together and healing the emotional wound that had been opened before their last encounter. Perhaps there was more sense in stopping to rest and heal than they first thought.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Before they were ready to move forward once more, Rhema thought she heard a noise from the direction in which they’d already come. “Ischarus.” She called quickly up the tunnel and then replied much more quietly to Charis, “I think there is something coming up the tunnel after us.”

Ischarus quickly rose to his feet, looking back to Semeion and saying, “Stay here and guard this end of the tunnel. I know that tone from Rhema. Something has gotten her attention. I don’t want it to be a diversion and we get blindsided from behind.”

Semeion nodded, realizing that this time through the tunnels this type of scenario had already become a routine for him. He hoped deep inside that he was more useful to the rest of his friends than just a horse guard.

While Ischarus lightly jogged to the end of the passageway where Rhema and Charis stood, Charis replied to Rhema. “Well, we have been in this place for a while. Surely something had an opportunity to catch up to us if it could track us through the tunnels. But those things just don’t have any eyes!”

Ischarus heard the end of Charis’ comment as he slowed to a quiet walk. “Semeion was down there teaching me how dependant we are on our ability to see. We can’t imagine getting through this life without our eyesight because we are so accustomed to it always being on. Yet, our other senses can be used just as easily with enough training. It is Semeion’s bet – and I am with him – that these creatures have tremendous touch and hearing. They may be able to feel vibrations through the rock floor and use them to locate their foes. They may be quite skilled at using sound to triangulate their positing.”

As if on cue, Rhema held out her hand and listened once Ischarus was done. She had thought she heard breathing down the tunnel. Once the tunnel had grown quietly still Ischarus raised his sword above his head for the sake of illumination. “I heard it too. Step behind me, Rhema.”

The sound of flesh upon stone echoed down the tunnel towards the trio of adventurers at this end. After a few seconds of the sound, Charis and Ischarus could both see a familiar imagine pass through the darkness and into the illuminated portion of the tunnel. It was another gray skinned figure, and this one had brought a friend as well.

Ischarus leapt into battle, tired of feeling hunted by these creatures who needed no light to stalk them. “I have had enough of your kind! We are merely passing through these tunnels, leave us alone!” His anger guided his hands true, and his blade struck the first creature solidly in the shoulder. His blow knocked the creature back a few steps and Ischarus hoisted his shield high in defense.

The one that Ischarus had struck regained his composure and swung away at Ischarus. His strike was weak and inaccurate due to the severe blow that Ischarus had just given him. Ischarus easily used his shield to steer the blow away from hitting him.

The creature spoke. It was the first time that any of the creatures had done anything except howl and grunt. The voice was deep, raspy, and hard to understand. “You are within our hunting grounds. All who pass through these tunnels are rightfully ours to claim!”

Charis was surprised to hear the creature speaking in the common tongue that her friends had just taught her only a few months earlier. She had originally intended on striking against the creature that Ischarus had struck so hard, but the shock from hearing the voice of the gray skinned creature disrupted her motion. Her swing was mistimed and short.

The other creature approached Charis with caution after watching Ischarus rip into its friend. As it drew its axe and thought about striking Charis, the primitive handle slipped out of its hand and landed on the floor at its feet. Charis adopted a defensive position as both of the creatures focused on her for a second.

Rhema shouted from her protected area from behind Ischarus. “Nobody has the right to injure another person simply because they are passing through! These tunnels are not marked as your own, you cannot own this! You gave us no warning of our trespass!” Rhema yelled from behind Ischarus, equally surprised to hear the creatures speak as Charis was.

Ischarus continued Rhema’s reasoning as he swung his sword. “We have no quarrel with you. We have already defeated four of your brethren, but we left them to recover in the tunnels. We mean you no harm; we simply desire to pass through!” The blade of his sword caught nothing but air as he swung.

The seriously wounded creature returned Ischarus’ blow awkwardly, missing Ischarus horribly. It left itself open for an attack and that was all the opportunity Charis needed. She swung hard with her pick. She had recovered from the shock of hearing these creatures speak. The pick landed hard against the creature and drove deep into its flesh. The force of the blow knocked the creature to the ground.

The other creature howled in anger. “So this is what you mean by you mean us no harm? You assault and injure my brothers?” By this time the creature had retrieved its stone axe from the floor and it struck out at Charis to avenge his kind. His blow connected hard with Charis’ chest, knocking her back. Charis found that she was winded and needed a few seconds to recover to catch her breath. The weight of the stone axe against her chest had almost ended her life in spite of failing to cut her deeply.

Rhema saw Charis stumble backwards and decided to no longer hold back her powers. In an angry voice she cried out, “Do not do that again! You attacked us first, we are merely defending ourselves!”

The creature howled in pain as Rhema’s words assaulted its mind. The creature felt for a minute as if its head were about to explode. In this moment of uncertainty, Ischarus finished the job. “This is the last you will see of us, creature!” Ischarus’ sword plunged deep into the creature’s side. As Ischarus removed the blade, it fell over onto its side beside its kin. Rhema looked on in shock as Ischarus released such a violent strike.

“Ischarus!” Rhema shouted. “You didn’t!”

A smile crept over Charis’ face as she bent down to examine the injured creatures’ injuries. “No, Rhema, he didn’t. He almost did, but I can make sure it doesn’t die.” Her hands quickly went to work by putting pressure where it was needed and making sure the creature didn’t lose any more blood than was necessary.

As she finished up her work and prepared to move to the first one that had fallen she looked to Ischarus and directed him to help. “I need you to hold this in place for another minute or so. That was a risky blow, Ischarus. You almost did kill him.”

Ischarus nodded to Rhema, knowing that his anger had almost gotten the better of him. “I know. But you were hit pretty hard, too. This battle needed to end quickly and I was tired of being hunted by things I didn’t want to fight.”

With Ischarus applying pressure where it was needed, Charis moved over to treat the wounds of the other creature. This creature’s wounds were not bad, although they would take some time to heal without magic. Charis stabilized this one as well. When she was convinced neither of them would die she nodded to Ischarus and Rhema.

Semeion called from the other end of the tunnel. “I think that’s our cue to move as quickly as we can. I for one am tired of this route already, and we’ve only been down here less than a day!”

Ischarus motioned for the others to follow and nodded in agreement with Semeion’s words. It was time to leave.

The rest of the trip through the mountains passed by slowly. The adventurers didn’t know night from day below the earth, although they were accustomed to this process having each been through the mountain tunnels at least once before. This route took nearly three times as long to traverse on account of not knowing precisely which direction to head. Several times Rhema made the wrong decision and the party had to spend hours backtracking after finding a collapsed tunnel or a tunnel that headed in the wrong direction. After over a week underground, the party finally emerged into Quehalost. As luck would have it, it was night when they again saw trees.

Knowing that they were on the other side of the mountains and that they would be less likely to be surprised out in the forest as they were underground, Charis expended the rest of her healing spells and headed for bed. Semeion volunteered to take first watch, letting Ischarus get some much needed sleep. The horses were loosely tied and allowed to graze or lay down as they saw fit. As he looked upon his friends and their ease in falling asleep, Semeion spoke softly under his breath. “Fresh air does wonders for the soul. One day I’ll learn the teleportation spell Brandt used. That way we can avoid the dark dangers of the deep mountains.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Before they were ready to move forward once more, Rhema thought she heard a noise from the direction in which they’d already come. “Ischarus.” She called quickly up the tunnel and then replied much more quietly to Charis, “I think there is something coming up the tunnel after us.”

Ischarus quickly rose to his feet, looking back to Semeion and saying, “Stay here and guard this end of the tunnel. I know that tone from Rhema. Something has gotten her attention. I don’t want it to be a diversion and we get blindsided from behind.”

Semeion nodded, realizing that this time through the tunnels this type of scenario had already become a routine for him. He hoped deep inside that he was more useful to the rest of his friends than just a horse guard.

While Ischarus lightly jogged to the end of the passageway where Rhema and Charis stood, Charis replied to Rhema. “Well, we have been in this place for a while. Surely something had an opportunity to catch up to us if it could track us through the tunnels. But those things just don’t have any eyes!”

Ischarus heard the end of Charis’ comment as he slowed to a quiet walk. “Semeion was down there teaching me how dependant we are on our ability to see. We can’t imagine getting through this life without our eyesight because we are so accustomed to it always being on. Yet, our other senses can be used just as easily with enough training. It is Semeion’s bet – and I am with him – that these creatures have tremendous touch and hearing. They may be able to feel vibrations through the rock floor and use them to locate their foes. They may be quite skilled at using sound to triangulate their positing.”

As if on cue, Rhema held out her hand and listened once Ischarus was done. She had thought she heard breathing down the tunnel. Once the tunnel had grown quietly still Ischarus raised his sword above his head for the sake of illumination. “I heard it too. Step behind me, Rhema.”

The sound of flesh upon stone echoed down the tunnel towards the trio of adventurers at this end. After a few seconds of the sound, Charis and Ischarus could both see a familiar imagine pass through the darkness and into the illuminated portion of the tunnel. It was another gray skinned figure, and this one had brought a friend as well.

Ischarus leapt into battle, tired of feeling hunted by these creatures who needed no light to stalk them. “I have had enough of your kind! We are merely passing through these tunnels, leave us alone!” His anger guided his hands true, and his blade struck the first creature solidly in the shoulder. His blow knocked the creature back a few steps and Ischarus hoisted his shield high in defense.

The one that Ischarus had struck regained his composure and swung away at Ischarus. His strike was weak and inaccurate due to the severe blow that Ischarus had just given him. Ischarus easily used his shield to steer the blow away from hitting him.

The creature spoke. It was the first time that any of the creatures had done anything except howl and grunt. The voice was deep, raspy, and hard to understand. “You are within our hunting grounds. All who pass through these tunnels are rightfully ours to claim!”

Charis was surprised to hear the creature speaking in the common tongue that her friends had just taught her only a few months earlier. She had originally intended on striking against the creature that Ischarus had struck so hard, but the shock from hearing the voice of the gray skinned creature disrupted her motion. Her swing was mistimed and short.

The other creature approached Charis with caution after watching Ischarus rip into its friend. As it drew its axe and thought about striking Charis, the primitive handle slipped out of its hand and landed on the floor at its feet. Charis adopted a defensive position as both of the creatures focused on her for a second.

Rhema shouted from her protected area from behind Ischarus. “Nobody has the right to injure another person simply because they are passing through! These tunnels are not marked as your own, you cannot own this! You gave us no warning of our trespass!” Rhema yelled from behind Ischarus, equally surprised to hear the creatures speak as Charis was.

Ischarus continued Rhema’s reasoning as he swung his sword. “We have no quarrel with you. We have already defeated four of your brethren, but we left them to recover in the tunnels. We mean you no harm; we simply desire to pass through!” The blade of his sword caught nothing but air as he swung.

The seriously wounded creature returned Ischarus’ blow awkwardly, missing Ischarus horribly. It left itself open for an attack and that was all the opportunity Charis needed. She swung hard with her pick. She had recovered from the shock of hearing these creatures speak. The pick landed hard against the creature and drove deep into its flesh. The force of the blow knocked the creature to the ground.

The other creature howled in anger. “So this is what you mean by you mean us no harm? You assault and injure my brothers?” By this time the creature had retrieved its stone axe from the floor and it struck out at Charis to avenge his kind. His blow connected hard with Charis’ chest, knocking her back. Charis found that she was winded and needed a few seconds to recover to catch her breath. The weight of the stone axe against her chest had almost ended her life in spite of failing to cut her deeply.

Rhema saw Charis stumble backwards and decided to no longer hold back her powers. In an angry voice she cried out, “Do not do that again! You attacked us first, we are merely defending ourselves!”

The creature howled in pain as Rhema’s words assaulted its mind. The creature felt for a minute as if its head were about to explode. In this moment of uncertainty, Ischarus finished the job. “This is the last you will see of us, creature!” Ischarus’ sword plunged deep into the creature’s side. As Ischarus removed the blade, it fell over onto its side beside its kin. Rhema looked on in shock as Ischarus released such a violent strike.

“Ischarus!” Rhema shouted. “You didn’t!”

A smile crept over Charis’ face as she bent down to examine the injured creatures’ injuries. “No, Rhema, he didn’t. He almost did, but I can make sure it doesn’t die.” Her hands quickly went to work by putting pressure where it was needed and making sure the creature didn’t lose any more blood than was necessary.

As she finished up her work and prepared to move to the first one that had fallen she looked to Ischarus and directed him to help. “I need you to hold this in place for another minute or so. That was a risky blow, Ischarus. You almost did kill him.”

Ischarus nodded to Rhema, knowing that his anger had almost gotten the better of him. “I know. But you were hit pretty hard, too. This battle needed to end quickly and I was tired of being hunted by things I didn’t want to fight.”

With Ischarus applying pressure where it was needed, Charis moved over to treat the wounds of the other creature. This creature’s wounds were not bad, although they would take some time to heal without magic. Charis stabilized this one as well. When she was convinced neither of them would die she nodded to Ischarus and Rhema.

Semeion called from the other end of the tunnel. “I think that’s our cue to move as quickly as we can. I for one am tired of this route already, and we’ve only been down here less than a day!”

Ischarus motioned for the others to follow and nodded in agreement with Semeion’s words. It was time to leave.

The rest of the trip through the mountains passed by slowly. The adventurers didn’t know night from day below the earth, although they were accustomed to this process having each been through the mountain tunnels at least once before. This route took nearly three times as long to traverse on account of not knowing precisely which direction to head. Several times Rhema made the wrong decision and the party had to spend hours backtracking after finding a collapsed tunnel or a tunnel that headed in the wrong direction. After over a week underground, the party finally emerged into Quehalost. As luck would have it, it was night when they again saw trees.

Knowing that they were on the other side of the mountains and that they would be less likely to be surprised out in the forest as they were underground, Charis expended the rest of her healing spells and headed for bed. Semeion volunteered to take first watch, letting Ischarus get some much needed sleep. The horses were loosely tied and allowed to graze or lay down as they saw fit. As he looked upon his friends and their ease in falling asleep, Semeion spoke softly under his breath. “Fresh air does wonders for the soul. One day I’ll learn the teleportation spell Brandt used. That way we can avoid the dark dangers of the deep mountains.”[/Sblock]