Bitterness Overcome: (Now A Completed Story!)

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Nine: A NOVEL ROUTE

The night shifts for the watch and the following sunrise came without any effort on the party’s behalf. Semeion had long since studied his magic and fell asleep mid-meditation once his shift was over. Rhema’s turn had come and gone. Charis had awoken to Rhema asking to be relieved. In turn Charis woke Ischarus for the final shift. Ischarus had the pleasure of watching the first sunrise for this trip into such a dangerous land. He had found a cozy spot sitting in a low branch about ten feet above the ground when he first saw the golden rays trying to break through the foliage above him.

Before Ischarus could truly enjoy the sight he jerked his head around to where the party slept. Suddenly he was overcome with a feeling as though they were not alone. His eyes focused first to the place where Rhema slept. She was laying and resting easy on the ground. Her chest rose and fell slowly in her typical pattern of uninterrupted sleep.

Ischarus looked next to Semeion. He knew that Semeion was far more fragile that Charis. Semeion slept with his mouth gapping open, but at least he was not snoring. Ischarus glanced to Charis last. He hoped to find that she was also sleeping soundly in spite of his feeling of not being alone. Ischarus was not disappointed. Charis slept on her left side. He could tell that she slept nervously even if she was unconscious. Charis’ right hand gripped the joint on her pick where the handle met the pointed crosspiece.

A sudden snap of some small twig alerted Ischarus to his right. His eyes peered through the lower branches of the trees and focused on the ground but he could see no movement. He peered hard in the area where he was certain the sound had come from. In spite of his best efforts to carefully examine the area he was unable to locate any sign of movement. Perhaps even worse, he had a nagging feeling that they still weren’t alone. He was sure there was someone watching him from in the midst of the party. It was only a feeling, however. He could find no physical reason to believe his superstitions.

Knowing that the sun was up and the party could begin to move to the west and follow the mountains back to the area that the red dragon controlled, Ischarus slid out of the tree and landed hard on his feet. Rhema and Charis immediately woke up from the sound and the vibration through the ground. Rhema looked up towards the noise but remained calm. Charis, on the other hand, stood quickly and let her grip loosen on her pick until the handle comfortably fell into place within her fingertips. Her head snapped around and she exhaled heavily as she noticed Ischarus recovering from the jump from the tree.

Ischarus looked in Charis’ direction when he noticed her hand grip the handle of her pick. “Shhh!” He cast Rhema and Charis a serious glance and balanced without making any more noise. The forest around them was quiet, especially after the sudden movement of Ischarus jumping out of the tree. After a few minutes of standing in silence and straining his ears, Ischarus figured that he had better offer up some kind of explanation to his friends. “I didn’t see anything, but I swear that when I was sitting up in that tree I felt like there was someone standing in the middle of our camp looking up at me.”

Charis relaxed her pose and Rhema decided to stand up and prepare herself for their upcoming journey through the dangerous land. As Rhema stood and begin packing, the movement was close enough to Semeion to finally cause him to wake. He spoke as he was startled awake. “Huh? Oh, morning already.”

Charis snickered as she realized that he was clueless about what had transpired before he woke up. Charis continued the conversation where Ischarus had left off. “Just a feeling, then?”

Ischarus nodded. “Yeah. It was nothing more than a subtle nervousness, really. I just felt like I was being watched. At first it didn’t necessarily bother me and I didn’t get scared or anything. But the more I sat here and felt the presence the more it started to get under my skin. Even now, I just don’t feel right.”

Rhema smiled at Ischarus as she finished rolling up her mat. “You’re just creped out, Ischarus. It’s your first morning in Quehalost and you’re being overprotective. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. I’m not trying to demean you or your instincts. You and I both know you’d rather emerge out of the tunnels at daylight so you can put some distance between the tunnels and yourself. You’d rather scout out the area before we are going to set up camp.”

Ischarus still wasn’t all that convinced that is was simply his nerves. However, he still nodded and relaxed his position. Charis added to Rhema’s reasoning to try and help Ischarus relax. “Besides, Ischarus, we’re all awake now. We’ve got eight eyes, eight ears, four noses, and a plethora of weapons against any threat we might perceive. We’ll stay alert as we walk.”

Semeion finished tucking his traveling magic book into a pouch and like Rhema finished rolling up his mat. He had been the quietest party member so far this morning, but he was also aware that invisible opponents happened to exist in the world. In truth, many of them were also quite aggressive. Master Sathwright had begun to teach him in those areas and he took them seriously. As he rolled up his mat and attached it to Thana’s saddle he watched the ground for footprints that didn’t seem to belong to anyone in particular. His eyes were watchful, but even he didn’t perceive anything in particular.

The rest of the party followed Semeion’s work and before too long the few remaining embers from the previous night’s fire were scattered so as to hide any trace of their being present in Quehalost. Leaves were scattered over the area and a few broken branches were brought in to makes the spot look naturally undisturbed. Once Ischarus was content that there would be little means of following them the party set off. Of course the horse hoof prints would be easily enough followed, but they were also much more likely to occur than an organized fire pit.

The party slowly picked their way through the forest and kept the mountains on their right. Ischarus was careful to avoid any signs of civilization, including roads and blazed trails. Surely anyone that would be met on the roads or a path would only delay their quest. The denizens of Quehalost were not known for being particularly friendly regarding intruders.

The foursome picked their way along the edge of the mountains for several horses before Ischarus signaled for the group to stop. He glanced backwards over his left shoulder and made eye contact with Rhema. She knew that look well as Ischarus had used that same glance several times in their adventures. In response to Ischarus’ look she spurred Shauvry ahead of Elistra several paces and kept a stern watch as Ischarus slid out of his saddle.

Semeion and Charis approached Ischarus’ position, careful to not draw too close and potentially ruin what had caught Ischarus’ attention. Charis approached closer than Semeion, allowing Semeion to remain behind to keep watch along the party’s rear. As she approached Ischarus, Charis spoke softly. “What caught your attention, Ischarus?”

Ischarus looked up. He had clearly been staring at a small pile of discarded meat beside a couple of well defined footprints. “Goblins, Charis. Little ones I think.” His eyes darted to a small mount of crushed grass. “And apparently there were big ones, too. It hasn’t been long since they’ve been through here, either.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Nine: A NOVEL ROUTE

The night shifts for the watch and the following sunrise came without any effort on the party’s behalf. Semeion had long since studied his magic and fell asleep mid-meditation once his shift was over. Rhema’s turn had come and gone. Charis had awoken to Rhema asking to be relieved. In turn Charis woke Ischarus for the final shift. Ischarus had the pleasure of watching the first sunrise for this trip into such a dangerous land. He had found a cozy spot sitting in a low branch about ten feet above the ground when he first saw the golden rays trying to break through the foliage above him.

Before Ischarus could truly enjoy the sight he jerked his head around to where the party slept. Suddenly he was overcome with a feeling as though they were not alone. His eyes focused first to the place where Rhema slept. She was laying and resting easy on the ground. Her chest rose and fell slowly in her typical pattern of uninterrupted sleep.

Ischarus looked next to Semeion. He knew that Semeion was far more fragile that Charis. Semeion slept with his mouth gapping open, but at least he was not snoring. Ischarus glanced to Charis last. He hoped to find that she was also sleeping soundly in spite of his feeling of not being alone. Ischarus was not disappointed. Charis slept on her left side. He could tell that she slept nervously even if she was unconscious. Charis’ right hand gripped the joint on her pick where the handle met the pointed crosspiece.

A sudden snap of some small twig alerted Ischarus to his right. His eyes peered through the lower branches of the trees and focused on the ground but he could see no movement. He peered hard in the area where he was certain the sound had come from. In spite of his best efforts to carefully examine the area he was unable to locate any sign of movement. Perhaps even worse, he had a nagging feeling that they still weren’t alone. He was sure there was someone watching him from in the midst of the party. It was only a feeling, however. He could find no physical reason to believe his superstitions.

Knowing that the sun was up and the party could begin to move to the west and follow the mountains back to the area that the red dragon controlled, Ischarus slid out of the tree and landed hard on his feet. Rhema and Charis immediately woke up from the sound and the vibration through the ground. Rhema looked up towards the noise but remained calm. Charis, on the other hand, stood quickly and let her grip loosen on her pick until the handle comfortably fell into place within her fingertips. Her head snapped around and she exhaled heavily as she noticed Ischarus recovering from the jump from the tree.

Ischarus looked in Charis’ direction when he noticed her hand grip the handle of her pick. “Shhh!” He cast Rhema and Charis a serious glance and balanced without making any more noise. The forest around them was quiet, especially after the sudden movement of Ischarus jumping out of the tree. After a few minutes of standing in silence and straining his ears, Ischarus figured that he had better offer up some kind of explanation to his friends. “I didn’t see anything, but I swear that when I was sitting up in that tree I felt like there was someone standing in the middle of our camp looking up at me.”

Charis relaxed her pose and Rhema decided to stand up and prepare herself for their upcoming journey through the dangerous land. As Rhema stood and begin packing, the movement was close enough to Semeion to finally cause him to wake. He spoke as he was startled awake. “Huh? Oh, morning already.”

Charis snickered as she realized that he was clueless about what had transpired before he woke up. Charis continued the conversation where Ischarus had left off. “Just a feeling, then?”

Ischarus nodded. “Yeah. It was nothing more than a subtle nervousness, really. I just felt like I was being watched. At first it didn’t necessarily bother me and I didn’t get scared or anything. But the more I sat here and felt the presence the more it started to get under my skin. Even now, I just don’t feel right.”

Rhema smiled at Ischarus as she finished rolling up her mat. “You’re just creped out, Ischarus. It’s your first morning in Quehalost and you’re being overprotective. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. I’m not trying to demean you or your instincts. You and I both know you’d rather emerge out of the tunnels at daylight so you can put some distance between the tunnels and yourself. You’d rather scout out the area before we are going to set up camp.”

Ischarus still wasn’t all that convinced that is was simply his nerves. However, he still nodded and relaxed his position. Charis added to Rhema’s reasoning to try and help Ischarus relax. “Besides, Ischarus, we’re all awake now. We’ve got eight eyes, eight ears, four noses, and a plethora of weapons against any threat we might perceive. We’ll stay alert as we walk.”

Semeion finished tucking his traveling magic book into a pouch and like Rhema finished rolling up his mat. He had been the quietest party member so far this morning, but he was also aware that invisible opponents happened to exist in the world. In truth, many of them were also quite aggressive. Master Sathwright had begun to teach him in those areas and he took them seriously. As he rolled up his mat and attached it to Thana’s saddle he watched the ground for footprints that didn’t seem to belong to anyone in particular. His eyes were watchful, but even he didn’t perceive anything in particular.

The rest of the party followed Semeion’s work and before too long the few remaining embers from the previous night’s fire were scattered so as to hide any trace of their being present in Quehalost. Leaves were scattered over the area and a few broken branches were brought in to makes the spot look naturally undisturbed. Once Ischarus was content that there would be little means of following them the party set off. Of course the horse hoof prints would be easily enough followed, but they were also much more likely to occur than an organized fire pit.

The party slowly picked their way through the forest and kept the mountains on their right. Ischarus was careful to avoid any signs of civilization, including roads and blazed trails. Surely anyone that would be met on the roads or a path would only delay their quest. The denizens of Quehalost were not known for being particularly friendly regarding intruders.

The foursome picked their way along the edge of the mountains for several horses before Ischarus signaled for the group to stop. He glanced backwards over his left shoulder and made eye contact with Rhema. She knew that look well as Ischarus had used that same glance several times in their adventures. In response to Ischarus’ look she spurred Shauvry ahead of Elistra several paces and kept a stern watch as Ischarus slid out of his saddle.

Semeion and Charis approached Ischarus’ position, careful to not draw too close and potentially ruin what had caught Ischarus’ attention. Charis approached closer than Semeion, allowing Semeion to remain behind to keep watch along the party’s rear. As she approached Ischarus, Charis spoke softly. “What caught your attention, Ischarus?”

Ischarus looked up. He had clearly been staring at a small pile of discarded meat beside a couple of well defined footprints. “Goblins, Charis. Little ones I think.” His eyes darted to a small mount of crushed grass. “And apparently there were big ones, too. It hasn’t been long since they’ve been through here, either.”[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Charis’ face nearly leapt with glee. It was an opposite reaction than Ischarus had expected. She kept her voice well under control in spite of her obvious excitement to the news. “Goblins? That’s great!”

Ischarus smiled, unsure of how to truly take Charis’ response. His eyes darted back and forth to Rhema and Semeion, but they were both on horseback and far enough away to not pay attention to the conversation. “Great? What exactly do you mean by that, Charis? I know that you know more about Quehalost than I do, but great?”

Charis laughed out loud. Perhaps she had laughed a bit louder than she should have. Semeion turned his head around to see what had caused the reaction. Somehow he hadn’t expected her to laugh given the seriousness that Ischarus had the last time he looked in their direction. Ischarus waved his look off and with a motion of his hands Ischarus instructed Semeion to continue to watch their path from behind.

Charis slipped the head of her pick into its leather covering and fastened the end of it back onto her belt. As she looked up, she brushed her long black hair out of her eyes. With the morning sun filtering through the trees, Ischarus noticed that her red highlights showed up strongly against the dark hair beneath it. Her hair solidly betrayed her heritage on this day. In truth, that was one reason he had decided to keep his hair short.

As Ischarus was noticing her hair she responded to his earlier question. “I say great because of two reasons. First, you could have found fresh dragon tracks, or demon tracks, or any other score of horrible tracks you could find. But instead you found goblin tracks. Goblins are far less scary than some of the other evils found in Quehalost!”

Ischarus couldn’t help break a smile at Charis’ logic. If nothing else her logic was sound. Goblins were a better choice than a huge wyrm of some kind or evil creature released from the hells of other worlds. Since her first reason inspired him so much, he couldn’t wait to hear about the second reason that goblins were a great find.

Charis continued, “Besides, I have a vague recollection of a goblin tribe that lived a fair bit east of my father dragon’s land. Sure, the goblin tribe wasn’t exactly right next door. But it does mean that we can’t be terribly far. A few days journey, perhaps.”

Ischarus was pleased to hear that Charis was able to relate to her surroundings. Since none of them had ever approached Quehalost from the direction from which they had just traveled, it was good to hear that they were reasonably on the right path. At least they were headed in the right direction. His mind couldn’t help counter Charis’ excitement, however. “A few days walk through the territory of a great red wyrm and a smattering of goblins, however.”

Charis laughed again, and a huge smile crossed her face. This laugh was enough to signal to Rhema and Semeion that it was nearly time to go and they could come back from their posts as sentries. As they slowly walked their horses in towards Charis and Ischarus they could hear Charis’ reply to Ischarus. “That’s my great red wyrm, remember! It isn’t like we are sneaking up on some unknown dragon. I know that dragon intimately.”

Rhema couldn’t help but speak as she heard the talk about the red wyrm. “You’ve found Dragon tracks, Ischarus? Are we that close already?” Rhema’s voice embodied much of the excitement growing within her chest upon hearing the talk about dragons.

Ischarus couldn’t also help but laugh at Rhema’s conclusion. This conversation was not at all what he imagined it would be. It was supposed to be a serious warning to be cautious about goblins. From a perspective of seriousness it was headed downhill fast. Yet in the greater scheme of things the conversation didn’t seem to matter like it would have on earlier trips. It was good to laugh inside Quehalost. As Ischarus smiled, he replied to Rhema’s incorrect assertion. “No, Rhema. Not dragon tracks. Goblin tracks.”

Semeion raised a tone of alarm. “Goblin tracks! I thought that’s what I heard Charis speaking about earlier.”

Charis took the opportunity to calm down Semeion with the same observation that she had used on Ischarus. “Well, better to find fresh goblin tracks than fresh dragon tracks, right?”

Now Semeion knew why Ischarus had been laughing. Charis had struck again. The foursome broke into another round of laughter at Charis’ statement and enjoyed the laugh in the middle of Quehalost. The sun was warming the air and at this moment there was a peace about the land in a very small section of Quehalost. Even the trees seemed to enjoy the light-hearted moment as their branches swayed in the subtle wind.

Suddenly Ischarus raised his sword up from the ground where he had laid it when he checked the tracks. He slowly began turning around. Carefully he raised his sword to his chest level and extended it away from himself and the party. His eyes squinted through the neighboring foliage, but they could make nothing out.

Rhema questioned the action of Ischarus. “Another feeling, Ischarus?”

Ischarus nodded slowly, still examining the woods round them. “Yeah. Right then, when we all came together and laughed. I felt as though we were being watched once more. It was as if someone was participating in the laugh with us.”

The rest of the party turned their horses around and twisted in their saddles to peer through the leaves. Rhema confessed that she wasn’t in tune with Ischarus as she scanned the woods. “I’ve got to admit that I didn’t feel anything.”

Semeion concurred, but mitigated as well. “I didn’t feel anything, either. But we just found fresh goblin tracks. You never know what could be out there.”

Ischarus let out a low growl as he kept his sword pointed towards the forest. “I know that something is out there, I just can’t see it. But I can feel it looking deep within us, almost as if …” His voice trailed off into silence.

He had left room for Charis to finish his sentence for him. “Almost as if it can search our souls, right? I feel it now, too. I can feel the presence as if it were able to look deep inside. I agree, Ischarus, something is out there.”

Semeion didn’t like where this was going at all. Only a moment ago the conversation had been light-hearted. Now it was deathly serious in nature. Of course it had started with Ischarus, but then Charis was affected. It was one thing to have knowledge of invisible assailants; but nothing that he was aware of could search one’s soul. Nothing that he was aware of could even try hard enough to give such a feeling to the one being observed. His logical training kicked himself into a defensive posture. “Come on, guys. The more we allow ourselves to succumb to the paranoia the more and more we’re going to feel it spread. It’s just a feeling, and we’re all probably still tired from our journey through the tunnels. We’re in Quehalost and we just found fresh goblin tracks. We’re bound to be a bit jumpy.”

Rhema found wisdom in Semeion’s caution since she was unable to feel anything remotely close to what Ischarus and Charis had described. “Yeah, I agree. Let’s forget chasing shadows and feelings. This is Quehalost. Things aren’t going to be right in this place anyway. We could chase feelings and shadows forever and never accomplish anything. We’ve got a significant task at hand. We’ve got to save Charis’ people from the dragon.”

A warm breeze of air blew through the party and rustled the leaves on the trees that surrounded them. Rhema stopped her speech short. Ischarus’ and Charis’ breathing grew shallow as they focused on listening and peering through the trees in the direction that the wind had come.

Semeion sighed at the unfortunate luck of the warm air blowing at precisely the wrong moment. Rhema and Semeion had almost convinced Ischarus and Charis to forget their paranoia. “Rhema is right, guys. Let’s plan to move forward. Charis’ people are at stake. But the first thing that we’ve got to figure out is what to do about these goblins. Surely we want to avoid them, right?”

Ischarus snapped back to reality. Semeion’s words convinced his mind to force the feelings of being watched to subside. “Right. The last thing that we need to add to our plate right now is taking on a goblin tribe.”

Another warm breeze of air rustled through the party as soon as Ischarus finished speaking. Semeion grew frustrated at their luck. “Of all the stupid times for the air to warm up in the sunlight!” He sighed in exasperation as he saw that the breeze of air drew Ischarus’ attention back into the woods. However, after a few seconds both Ischarus and Charis had turned around and focused on the task ahead. The party needed to get to Charis’ village and leave the goblins behind.

Ischarus began to talk strategy. “Now, if we can take the direction of the tracks to imply a general direction of their tribal village at one end or another, these tracks are going in the same general direction that we are headed. But if we bend our path a bit more towards the mountains we might be able to slip between their destination and the edge of the mountains.”

Charis replied quickly. She knew that goblins were not the most logical creatures in the world. “That is assuming that goblins walk in straight lines to where they want to go.”

Ischarus smiled at Charis’ point. “Well, yes. But if we are going to get anywhere we do have to make some assumptions somewhere.”

Semeion piped in his opinion. He was pleased that they were now headed in the right direction with this conversation. “I agree. If we head more towards the mountains we’ll be less likely to run into trouble. Rhema, do you have any thoughts?”

Rhema nodded. “It sounds like as good of a plan as any. Ischarus, are you still leading the way?”

Ischarus nodded and lifted himself into Elistra’s saddle. Once he was settled and his gear was aligned for riding properly, he turned Elistra in the general direction that he wanted to head. He guided Elistra past Abijou and then between Thana and Shauvry.

Once he was clear and all alone, a strong head wind picked up out of nowhere. The wind was so strong that Elistra could make no headway and Ischarus had to tuck his head and close his eyes tightly to avoid the sting of the breeze. With his hands on the reigns he gently gave Elistra the command to retreat and step backwards. The wind ceased immediately. The rest of the party had only mildly felt the effects of the unusual current of air. Yet there was no denying what had just happened to Ischarus. They had seen the wind blast Ischarus and create mayhem with Elistra’s mane.

Semeion’s mind raced as he tried to come up with any kind of explanation. “Try it again, Ischarus.” He was no longer speaking out of frustration, however. His curiosity was now tapped by the strange gusts of wind. No longer could he explain the happenings as chance. Now they were clearly the result of some outside force. Semeion mumbled to himself as his mind continued to think. “At least so far it’s been benign.”

Ischarus turned Elistra back along the route that he wanted to go and as he encouraged her forward the strong gale picked up again. Once again the wind hardly affected anyone else in the party except Ischarus. Having enough of the wind, Ischarus pulled Elistra back and the gale wind ceased to blow.

Charis’ mind was also searching for an explanation. “Here, let me try.” Charis lead Abijou in the direction that Ischarus had tried to move and she was likewise met with the same resistance of wind. After a few seconds in the wind she and Abijou had both had enough. It was clear that the horses were beginning to become spooked.

Rhema’s mind was trying to figure out what was going on. “I hope that we have not willingly fallen into some kind of trap. The goblin prints we found here were kind of obvious. Maybe the design was to get us to stop so that the trap could be properly set up.”

Semeion shook his head from side to side. His mind was coming to a conclusion as he searched the magic around them. “Wait. The earlier gusts of wind only happened when we spoke of our mission. The first one came when we mentioned freeing Charis’ people. The second one happened when we mentioned avoiding the goblins. It was when we acted on trying to avoid the goblins when we met the greatest resistance. Ischarus, follow the path made by the tracks slowly. If you can make it, keep going. We’ll fall in line behind you.

Ischarus used the reigns to turn Elistra in the direction that the tracks had been heading. By this point, there had been enough horse traffic over the prints that they were difficult to see. However, Ischarus was pretty sure that he was headed in the right direction. As Elistra stepped forward, she was met with no resistance. The party stepped forward one by one in line with Ischarus and slowly followed the goblin tracks. The pleasurable moment of laughter that they had enjoyed only a few minutes ago was past. For some reason, the elements of Quehalost had seemingly decided to get revenge on their laughter by forcing them into conflict with the goblins.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis’ face nearly leapt with glee. It was an opposite reaction than Ischarus had expected. She kept her voice well under control in spite of her obvious excitement to the news. “Goblins? That’s great!”

Ischarus smiled, unsure of how to truly take Charis’ response. His eyes darted back and forth to Rhema and Semeion, but they were both on horseback and far enough away to not pay attention to the conversation. “Great? What exactly do you mean by that, Charis? I know that you know more about Quehalost than I do, but great?”

Charis laughed out loud. Perhaps she had laughed a bit louder than she should have. Semeion turned his head around to see what had caused the reaction. Somehow he hadn’t expected her to laugh given the seriousness that Ischarus had the last time he looked in their direction. Ischarus waved his look off and with a motion of his hands Ischarus instructed Semeion to continue to watch their path from behind.

Charis slipped the head of her pick into its leather covering and fastened the end of it back onto her belt. As she looked up, she brushed her long black hair out of her eyes. With the morning sun filtering through the trees, Ischarus noticed that her red highlights showed up strongly against the dark hair beneath it. Her hair solidly betrayed her heritage on this day. In truth, that was one reason he had decided to keep his hair short.

As Ischarus was noticing her hair she responded to his earlier question. “I say great because of two reasons. First, you could have found fresh dragon tracks, or demon tracks, or any other score of horrible tracks you could find. But instead you found goblin tracks. Goblins are far less scary than some of the other evils found in Quehalost!”

Ischarus couldn’t help break a smile at Charis’ logic. If nothing else her logic was sound. Goblins were a better choice than a huge wyrm of some kind or evil creature released from the hells of other worlds. Since her first reason inspired him so much, he couldn’t wait to hear about the second reason that goblins were a great find.

Charis continued, “Besides, I have a vague recollection of a goblin tribe that lived a fair bit east of my father dragon’s land. Sure, the goblin tribe wasn’t exactly right next door. But it does mean that we can’t be terribly far. A few days journey, perhaps.”

Ischarus was pleased to hear that Charis was able to relate to her surroundings. Since none of them had ever approached Quehalost from the direction from which they had just traveled, it was good to hear that they were reasonably on the right path. At least they were headed in the right direction. His mind couldn’t help counter Charis’ excitement, however. “A few days walk through the territory of a great red wyrm and a smattering of goblins, however.”

Charis laughed again, and a huge smile crossed her face. This laugh was enough to signal to Rhema and Semeion that it was nearly time to go and they could come back from their posts as sentries. As they slowly walked their horses in towards Charis and Ischarus they could hear Charis’ reply to Ischarus. “That’s my great red wyrm, remember! It isn’t like we are sneaking up on some unknown dragon. I know that dragon intimately.”

Rhema couldn’t help but speak as she heard the talk about the red wyrm. “You’ve found Dragon tracks, Ischarus? Are we that close already?” Rhema’s voice embodied much of the excitement growing within her chest upon hearing the talk about dragons.

Ischarus couldn’t also help but laugh at Rhema’s conclusion. This conversation was not at all what he imagined it would be. It was supposed to be a serious warning to be cautious about goblins. From a perspective of seriousness it was headed downhill fast. Yet in the greater scheme of things the conversation didn’t seem to matter like it would have on earlier trips. It was good to laugh inside Quehalost. As Ischarus smiled, he replied to Rhema’s incorrect assertion. “No, Rhema. Not dragon tracks. Goblin tracks.”

Semeion raised a tone of alarm. “Goblin tracks! I thought that’s what I heard Charis speaking about earlier.”

Charis took the opportunity to calm down Semeion with the same observation that she had used on Ischarus. “Well, better to find fresh goblin tracks than fresh dragon tracks, right?”

Now Semeion knew why Ischarus had been laughing. Charis had struck again. The foursome broke into another round of laughter at Charis’ statement and enjoyed the laugh in the middle of Quehalost. The sun was warming the air and at this moment there was a peace about the land in a very small section of Quehalost. Even the trees seemed to enjoy the light-hearted moment as their branches swayed in the subtle wind.

Suddenly Ischarus raised his sword up from the ground where he had laid it when he checked the tracks. He slowly began turning around. Carefully he raised his sword to his chest level and extended it away from himself and the party. His eyes squinted through the neighboring foliage, but they could make nothing out.

Rhema questioned the action of Ischarus. “Another feeling, Ischarus?”

Ischarus nodded slowly, still examining the woods round them. “Yeah. Right then, when we all came together and laughed. I felt as though we were being watched once more. It was as if someone was participating in the laugh with us.”

The rest of the party turned their horses around and twisted in their saddles to peer through the leaves. Rhema confessed that she wasn’t in tune with Ischarus as she scanned the woods. “I’ve got to admit that I didn’t feel anything.”

Semeion concurred, but mitigated as well. “I didn’t feel anything, either. But we just found fresh goblin tracks. You never know what could be out there.”

Ischarus let out a low growl as he kept his sword pointed towards the forest. “I know that something is out there, I just can’t see it. But I can feel it looking deep within us, almost as if …” His voice trailed off into silence.

He had left room for Charis to finish his sentence for him. “Almost as if it can search our souls, right? I feel it now, too. I can feel the presence as if it were able to look deep inside. I agree, Ischarus, something is out there.”

Semeion didn’t like where this was going at all. Only a moment ago the conversation had been light-hearted. Now it was deathly serious in nature. Of course it had started with Ischarus, but then Charis was affected. It was one thing to have knowledge of invisible assailants; but nothing that he was aware of could search one’s soul. Nothing that he was aware of could even try hard enough to give such a feeling to the one being observed. His logical training kicked himself into a defensive posture. “Come on, guys. The more we allow ourselves to succumb to the paranoia the more and more we’re going to feel it spread. It’s just a feeling, and we’re all probably still tired from our journey through the tunnels. We’re in Quehalost and we just found fresh goblin tracks. We’re bound to be a bit jumpy.”

Rhema found wisdom in Semeion’s caution since she was unable to feel anything remotely close to what Ischarus and Charis had described. “Yeah, I agree. Let’s forget chasing shadows and feelings. This is Quehalost. Things aren’t going to be right in this place anyway. We could chase feelings and shadows forever and never accomplish anything. We’ve got a significant task at hand. We’ve got to save Charis’ people from the dragon.”

A warm breeze of air blew through the party and rustled the leaves on the trees that surrounded them. Rhema stopped her speech short. Ischarus’ and Charis’ breathing grew shallow as they focused on listening and peering through the trees in the direction that the wind had come.

Semeion sighed at the unfortunate luck of the warm air blowing at precisely the wrong moment. Rhema and Semeion had almost convinced Ischarus and Charis to forget their paranoia. “Rhema is right, guys. Let’s plan to move forward. Charis’ people are at stake. But the first thing that we’ve got to figure out is what to do about these goblins. Surely we want to avoid them, right?”

Ischarus snapped back to reality. Semeion’s words convinced his mind to force the feelings of being watched to subside. “Right. The last thing that we need to add to our plate right now is taking on a goblin tribe.”

Another warm breeze of air rustled through the party as soon as Ischarus finished speaking. Semeion grew frustrated at their luck. “Of all the stupid times for the air to warm up in the sunlight!” He sighed in exasperation as he saw that the breeze of air drew Ischarus’ attention back into the woods. However, after a few seconds both Ischarus and Charis had turned around and focused on the task ahead. The party needed to get to Charis’ village and leave the goblins behind.

Ischarus began to talk strategy. “Now, if we can take the direction of the tracks to imply a general direction of their tribal village at one end or another, these tracks are going in the same general direction that we are headed. But if we bend our path a bit more towards the mountains we might be able to slip between their destination and the edge of the mountains.”

Charis replied quickly. She knew that goblins were not the most logical creatures in the world. “That is assuming that goblins walk in straight lines to where they want to go.”

Ischarus smiled at Charis’ point. “Well, yes. But if we are going to get anywhere we do have to make some assumptions somewhere.”

Semeion piped in his opinion. He was pleased that they were now headed in the right direction with this conversation. “I agree. If we head more towards the mountains we’ll be less likely to run into trouble. Rhema, do you have any thoughts?”

Rhema nodded. “It sounds like as good of a plan as any. Ischarus, are you still leading the way?”

Ischarus nodded and lifted himself into Elistra’s saddle. Once he was settled and his gear was aligned for riding properly, he turned Elistra in the general direction that he wanted to head. He guided Elistra past Abijou and then between Thana and Shauvry.

Once he was clear and all alone, a strong head wind picked up out of nowhere. The wind was so strong that Elistra could make no headway and Ischarus had to tuck his head and close his eyes tightly to avoid the sting of the breeze. With his hands on the reigns he gently gave Elistra the command to retreat and step backwards. The wind ceased immediately. The rest of the party had only mildly felt the effects of the unusual current of air. Yet there was no denying what had just happened to Ischarus. They had seen the wind blast Ischarus and create mayhem with Elistra’s mane.

Semeion’s mind raced as he tried to come up with any kind of explanation. “Try it again, Ischarus.” He was no longer speaking out of frustration, however. His curiosity was now tapped by the strange gusts of wind. No longer could he explain the happenings as chance. Now they were clearly the result of some outside force. Semeion mumbled to himself as his mind continued to think. “At least so far it’s been benign.”

Ischarus turned Elistra back along the route that he wanted to go and as he encouraged her forward the strong gale picked up again. Once again the wind hardly affected anyone else in the party except Ischarus. Having enough of the wind, Ischarus pulled Elistra back and the gale wind ceased to blow.

Charis’ mind was also searching for an explanation. “Here, let me try.” Charis lead Abijou in the direction that Ischarus had tried to move and she was likewise met with the same resistance of wind. After a few seconds in the wind she and Abijou had both had enough. It was clear that the horses were beginning to become spooked.

Rhema’s mind was trying to figure out what was going on. “I hope that we have not willingly fallen into some kind of trap. The goblin prints we found here were kind of obvious. Maybe the design was to get us to stop so that the trap could be properly set up.”

Semeion shook his head from side to side. His mind was coming to a conclusion as he searched the magic around them. “Wait. The earlier gusts of wind only happened when we spoke of our mission. The first one came when we mentioned freeing Charis’ people. The second one happened when we mentioned avoiding the goblins. It was when we acted on trying to avoid the goblins when we met the greatest resistance. Ischarus, follow the path made by the tracks slowly. If you can make it, keep going. We’ll fall in line behind you.

Ischarus used the reigns to turn Elistra in the direction that the tracks had been heading. By this point, there had been enough horse traffic over the prints that they were difficult to see. However, Ischarus was pretty sure that he was headed in the right direction. As Elistra stepped forward, she was met with no resistance. The party stepped forward one by one in line with Ischarus and slowly followed the goblin tracks. The pleasurable moment of laughter that they had enjoyed only a few minutes ago was past. For some reason, the elements of Quehalost had seemingly decided to get revenge on their laughter by forcing them into conflict with the goblins.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The foursome traveled through the thick underbrush as they slowly followed the tracks of the goblins. In the back of his mind, Ischarus knew that if the tracks weren’t fresh he’d have no chance of picking them out underneath the plant growth. Fortunately the signs were fairly obvious. He also knew that they were following them much more slowly than they had been laid, so the likelihood of coming across the goblins that originally made these tracks was not very good. Both of those facts made Ischarus much more at ease knowing that the only reason he was taking this path in the first place was because of some weird magical wind that forced him down this path.

They traveled in silence for over an hour, slowly picking their way through the low branches. After having their joyous laugh ruined by the suspense and mystery of the land they were all too busy lost in their thoughts to do much speaking out loud. Of course, the fact that they were in goblin territory and largely outnumbered wasn’t much of an encouragement to talk loudly either. They plugged along slowly, each one occasionally rubbing the mane of their horse to inspire it to keep moving.

As they continued, suddenly Ischarus heard Rhema’s voice whispering loudly behind him. “Ischarus, stop. I saw something.”

Ischarus smiled as he pulled Elistra to a stop and began to turn her around. He teased Rhema slightly. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen now that Rhema is seeing things!”

He was greeted with a very stern shushing from Charis. Rhema had already dismounted off of Shauvry and charged on foot into the underbrush. Charis and Semeion looked as though they were unsure as to whether or not they should follow.

Ischarus cursed under his breath when he saw Shauvry standing on the path with his saddle empty. He quickly swung his leg over Elistra’s back and was on the ground. He collected the reigns attached to Shauvry’s bit and bridle and brought both horses over to Charis. “Stay here with Semeion and watch this trail. It isn’t an often used trail by the looks of it, but if there is a tribal gathering or something going on it might be used more than normal. You and Semeion need to protect the horses.”

Charis nodded, looking back at Semeion. A slight smile came across her face, knowing that she and Semeion hadn’t had any time alone since the entered the tunnels on the Tongra side of the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. It might be nice to have a few moments with absolutely nothing to do except stay in one place with Semeion. In the end, she readily accepted the reigns from Ischarus and dismounted. Ischarus was gone in a flash after Rhema once Charis had taken the reigns from him.

Rhema was nearly a half minute ahead of Ischarus and she could just barely hear him coming through the underbrush behind her. She knew that she would have an easier time hearing him than he would of hearing her, however. She reached out and grabbed a thin birch sapling and shook it hard, rustling its leaves clear to the top. She was confident that Ischarus would be able to hear that.

She focused once more on trying to find what she had seen dart off of the road. She thought about what her mind had understood and it simply didn’t make sense. It was like a shadow had moved on its own, without something physical to move in correlation to it. As her mind focused, she stopped moving forward and thought some more. In a whisper she began to talk to herself. “Surely I am not chasing shadows through the woods of Quehalost. I am smarter than that.”

As her mind began to realize the imminent dangers that this land could be throwing at her, she reached out and found another sapling. She shook it hard, figuring that Ischarus would need another clue as to where to head soon. She listened and heard him coming in her direction. He was closing in on her and she relaxed knowing that he was drawing closer.

Suddenly her eyes caught movement again. Again in a whisper she talked herself through her surprise as she once again began the chase. “A foot! I know a foot when I see one, and that clearly was a foot. But it was no foot like I have ever seen. I could see through it. I could see the base of the tree behind where the foot was resting upon the ground.” A sudden chill ran through her body as she stopped moving. She heard herself talk through what she had seen and she knew the implications all too well. She was chasing some kind of shadow that could maintain its shape without having a physical body to relate to. A chill ran up her spine and she noticed that her feet no longer desired to move forward.

Again she spoke softly to herself. “Turn around, Rhema,” She was trying to talk herself away. There was no telling what deep evil had risen out of Quehalost against them. “You can’t use your powers of persuasion upon a shadow. Shadows don’t really care about things like we do. If you meet that shadow, then what’re you going to do?”

A hand reached out and touched her from behind. Rhema shrieked loudly as she crouched to the ground and spun around to face her adversary. Without even thinking about it, her might focused on what she could only assume was the worst. She extended a mental attack similar to the attack she had used on the gray skinned creatures below the mountains. To her surprise the attack worked!

Ischarus was hit with her attack and he shrunk to the ground in pain. “Ahh! Rhema, get out of my mind!” Tears streamed down his face at the sharpness of the unexpected assault.

Slowly, Rhema’s mind reverted back to reality. She knew that voice. She looked with her eyes; it was something she had not done earlier. She didn’t want to see her assailant. She merely wanted to force it off unseen. But when she heard the familiar voice her eyes darted up to see Ischarus crouching in pain before her. Immediately she released him from the attack and rushed to his aid. “Oh, Ischarus! I didn’t know it was you. I saw something. Actually I saw through something. Up until then I was just so curious, but when I actually saw a part of what I was chasing I got scared. And you caught me and …”

Ischarus had relaxed once Rhema’s assault had left his mind. He even boldly reached out his hand once again to her shoulder as she spoke in a hurried pattern. “Rhema, calm down. I’m alright. I’ve got a bit of a headache now, but I’ll live. And, you’re babbling pretty badly. So stop and breathe for a moment and then tell me once more what happened.”

Rhema paused in her speech and allowed herself to calm down. She took a few more deep breaths and caught Ischarus’ attention with her eyes. The look on her face was deeply apologetic and Ischarus could only smile. At the moment, he thought that she looked as though her favorite pet had just died.

He reached out and drew her into his shoulder. “Forget it, Rhema. You were obviously scared. I’m not hurt badly, so don’t worry about it.”

Rhema breathed deeply through her nose and choked back a few tears. “We aren’t chasing something natural, Ischarus. You can see right through it to the other side, but not clearly.”

Ischarus smiled, and he felt good enough to rise to his feet once more. Once he was standing he extended his arms to Rhema. As he helped her to his feet he continued to speak. “Well, I assumed not, Rhema. Something that has this kind of power over the wind is either a strong magic user or something not natural. I’ve been hoping it wasn’t a strong magic user because if it was we were immediately in over our head and thus being toyed with. If it had the power of someone like Brandt then we were just walking into its trap. Given that conclusion, your telling me that it isn’t natural is actually a relief.”

Another gust of wind blew through the middle of where Rhema and Semeion sat. Rhema’s eyes darted to Ischarus and then she spun around and stared along the ground. She couldn’t spot anything like before from where she stood.

Ischarus spoke as his mind was trying to make sense of the situation. “Listen, Rhema. Let’s move in the direction that you were headed. Maybe we’ll get another look and I’ll see it this time, too.”

Rhema nodded and led the way. Her confidence and curiosity was returning now that Ischarus had caught up with her. She stepped off into the direction that she had been moving. After a few paces both she and Ischarus pointed in the same area.

Ischarus called out from behind. “There it goes!” He indicated with his finger that the shadowy creature had moved off to the right.

Rhema called as she plunged through the undergrowth in the general direction the shadowy for had appeared to be moving. “I told you I saw something! Did you see what I meant about being able to see through it?”

Ischarus didn’t reply. He did nod to himself as he followed her change of course. He was deep in thought about what they could be following and never thought about the fact that Rhema couldn’t see his nod. Rhema didn’t seem to mind, though, as she kept moving through the brush. Suddenly she stopped short. Ischarus came up from behind quickly and nearly ran into her. Her eyes were fixated on a small horizontal stone slab in front of her. Ischarus saw the slab and couldn’t help but exclaim at the oddity of the sight. “What in Quehalost is that?” His words had broken the small silence that had formed during the chase.

Rhema stepped closer to the stone. There were burn marks across the face of the stone. Her head cocked slightly to the right as she took in the pattern of the marks, trying desperately to have it make sense to her mind. Her hand began to reach out and touch the marks to see how fresh they might be, but as she moved she quickly thought better of it.

Ischarus exclaimed in what sounded like a muffled shout. “Look!” He pointed toward the base of the stone slab where there were four slightly rotted wooden stakes. He continued in his whisper as he felt the need to hold the scene in reverence. “There are four of these around the base. And each stake seems to mark the major directions on a compass.”

Rhema nodded, putting the scene together in her mind. She likewise replied in a whisper. “And these wooden stakes are right below where the burn marks reach the edge of the stone. Could something have been tied …”

Her voice stopped short with a slight tone of horror behind it. Without delay Ischarus looked at her face and followed her line of sight to the stone slab. Immediately he saw what she had put together in her mind. His hand covered his mouth as the realization sunk in. “Not something, Rhema. Someone. Someone was burned here.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The foursome traveled through the thick underbrush as they slowly followed the tracks of the goblins. In the back of his mind, Ischarus knew that if the tracks weren’t fresh he’d have no chance of picking them out underneath the plant growth. Fortunately the signs were fairly obvious. He also knew that they were following them much more slowly than they had been laid, so the likelihood of coming across the goblins that originally made these tracks was not very good. Both of those facts made Ischarus much more at ease knowing that the only reason he was taking this path in the first place was because of some weird magical wind that forced him down this path.

They traveled in silence for over an hour, slowly picking their way through the low branches. After having their joyous laugh ruined by the suspense and mystery of the land they were all too busy lost in their thoughts to do much speaking out loud. Of course, the fact that they were in goblin territory and largely outnumbered wasn’t much of an encouragement to talk loudly either. They plugged along slowly, each one occasionally rubbing the mane of their horse to inspire it to keep moving.

As they continued, suddenly Ischarus heard Rhema’s voice whispering loudly behind him. “Ischarus, stop. I saw something.”

Ischarus smiled as he pulled Elistra to a stop and began to turn her around. He teased Rhema slightly. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen now that Rhema is seeing things!”

He was greeted with a very stern shushing from Charis. Rhema had already dismounted off of Shauvry and charged on foot into the underbrush. Charis and Semeion looked as though they were unsure as to whether or not they should follow.

Ischarus cursed under his breath when he saw Shauvry standing on the path with his saddle empty. He quickly swung his leg over Elistra’s back and was on the ground. He collected the reigns attached to Shauvry’s bit and bridle and brought both horses over to Charis. “Stay here with Semeion and watch this trail. It isn’t an often used trail by the looks of it, but if there is a tribal gathering or something going on it might be used more than normal. You and Semeion need to protect the horses.”

Charis nodded, looking back at Semeion. A slight smile came across her face, knowing that she and Semeion hadn’t had any time alone since the entered the tunnels on the Tongra side of the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. It might be nice to have a few moments with absolutely nothing to do except stay in one place with Semeion. In the end, she readily accepted the reigns from Ischarus and dismounted. Ischarus was gone in a flash after Rhema once Charis had taken the reigns from him.

Rhema was nearly a half minute ahead of Ischarus and she could just barely hear him coming through the underbrush behind her. She knew that she would have an easier time hearing him than he would of hearing her, however. She reached out and grabbed a thin birch sapling and shook it hard, rustling its leaves clear to the top. She was confident that Ischarus would be able to hear that.

She focused once more on trying to find what she had seen dart off of the road. She thought about what her mind had understood and it simply didn’t make sense. It was like a shadow had moved on its own, without something physical to move in correlation to it. As her mind focused, she stopped moving forward and thought some more. In a whisper she began to talk to herself. “Surely I am not chasing shadows through the woods of Quehalost. I am smarter than that.”

As her mind began to realize the imminent dangers that this land could be throwing at her, she reached out and found another sapling. She shook it hard, figuring that Ischarus would need another clue as to where to head soon. She listened and heard him coming in her direction. He was closing in on her and she relaxed knowing that he was drawing closer.

Suddenly her eyes caught movement again. Again in a whisper she talked herself through her surprise as she once again began the chase. “A foot! I know a foot when I see one, and that clearly was a foot. But it was no foot like I have ever seen. I could see through it. I could see the base of the tree behind where the foot was resting upon the ground.” A sudden chill ran through her body as she stopped moving. She heard herself talk through what she had seen and she knew the implications all too well. She was chasing some kind of shadow that could maintain its shape without having a physical body to relate to. A chill ran up her spine and she noticed that her feet no longer desired to move forward.

Again she spoke softly to herself. “Turn around, Rhema,” She was trying to talk herself away. There was no telling what deep evil had risen out of Quehalost against them. “You can’t use your powers of persuasion upon a shadow. Shadows don’t really care about things like we do. If you meet that shadow, then what’re you going to do?”

A hand reached out and touched her from behind. Rhema shrieked loudly as she crouched to the ground and spun around to face her adversary. Without even thinking about it, her might focused on what she could only assume was the worst. She extended a mental attack similar to the attack she had used on the gray skinned creatures below the mountains. To her surprise the attack worked!

Ischarus was hit with her attack and he shrunk to the ground in pain. “Ahh! Rhema, get out of my mind!” Tears streamed down his face at the sharpness of the unexpected assault.

Slowly, Rhema’s mind reverted back to reality. She knew that voice. She looked with her eyes; it was something she had not done earlier. She didn’t want to see her assailant. She merely wanted to force it off unseen. But when she heard the familiar voice her eyes darted up to see Ischarus crouching in pain before her. Immediately she released him from the attack and rushed to his aid. “Oh, Ischarus! I didn’t know it was you. I saw something. Actually I saw through something. Up until then I was just so curious, but when I actually saw a part of what I was chasing I got scared. And you caught me and …”

Ischarus had relaxed once Rhema’s assault had left his mind. He even boldly reached out his hand once again to her shoulder as she spoke in a hurried pattern. “Rhema, calm down. I’m alright. I’ve got a bit of a headache now, but I’ll live. And, you’re babbling pretty badly. So stop and breathe for a moment and then tell me once more what happened.”

Rhema paused in her speech and allowed herself to calm down. She took a few more deep breaths and caught Ischarus’ attention with her eyes. The look on her face was deeply apologetic and Ischarus could only smile. At the moment, he thought that she looked as though her favorite pet had just died.

He reached out and drew her into his shoulder. “Forget it, Rhema. You were obviously scared. I’m not hurt badly, so don’t worry about it.”

Rhema breathed deeply through her nose and choked back a few tears. “We aren’t chasing something natural, Ischarus. You can see right through it to the other side, but not clearly.”

Ischarus smiled, and he felt good enough to rise to his feet once more. Once he was standing he extended his arms to Rhema. As he helped her to his feet he continued to speak. “Well, I assumed not, Rhema. Something that has this kind of power over the wind is either a strong magic user or something not natural. I’ve been hoping it wasn’t a strong magic user because if it was we were immediately in over our head and thus being toyed with. If it had the power of someone like Brandt then we were just walking into its trap. Given that conclusion, your telling me that it isn’t natural is actually a relief.”

Another gust of wind blew through the middle of where Rhema and Semeion sat. Rhema’s eyes darted to Ischarus and then she spun around and stared along the ground. She couldn’t spot anything like before from where she stood.

Ischarus spoke as his mind was trying to make sense of the situation. “Listen, Rhema. Let’s move in the direction that you were headed. Maybe we’ll get another look and I’ll see it this time, too.”

Rhema nodded and led the way. Her confidence and curiosity was returning now that Ischarus had caught up with her. She stepped off into the direction that she had been moving. After a few paces both she and Ischarus pointed in the same area.

Ischarus called out from behind. “There it goes!” He indicated with his finger that the shadowy creature had moved off to the right.

Rhema called as she plunged through the undergrowth in the general direction the shadowy for had appeared to be moving. “I told you I saw something! Did you see what I meant about being able to see through it?”

Ischarus didn’t reply. He did nod to himself as he followed her change of course. He was deep in thought about what they could be following and never thought about the fact that Rhema couldn’t see his nod. Rhema didn’t seem to mind, though, as she kept moving through the brush. Suddenly she stopped short. Ischarus came up from behind quickly and nearly ran into her. Her eyes were fixated on a small horizontal stone slab in front of her. Ischarus saw the slab and couldn’t help but exclaim at the oddity of the sight. “What in Quehalost is that?” His words had broken the small silence that had formed during the chase.

Rhema stepped closer to the stone. There were burn marks across the face of the stone. Her head cocked slightly to the right as she took in the pattern of the marks, trying desperately to have it make sense to her mind. Her hand began to reach out and touch the marks to see how fresh they might be, but as she moved she quickly thought better of it.

Ischarus exclaimed in what sounded like a muffled shout. “Look!” He pointed toward the base of the stone slab where there were four slightly rotted wooden stakes. He continued in his whisper as he felt the need to hold the scene in reverence. “There are four of these around the base. And each stake seems to mark the major directions on a compass.”

Rhema nodded, putting the scene together in her mind. She likewise replied in a whisper. “And these wooden stakes are right below where the burn marks reach the edge of the stone. Could something have been tied …”

Her voice stopped short with a slight tone of horror behind it. Without delay Ischarus looked at her face and followed her line of sight to the stone slab. Immediately he saw what she had put together in her mind. His hand covered his mouth as the realization sunk in. “Not something, Rhema. Someone. Someone was burned here.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Rhema’s head shook slightly in an affirmative motion in response to Ischarus’ grim assertion. “Yeah. The hands were extended and tied to the stakes. The legs were also extended and tied. That circular burn mark there must be the head.” Her hand shook slightly as she gestured to a small burned spot on the stone. “Who would do such a thing as this?”

Ischarus replied calmly. “Have you forgotten where we are, Rhema?” It was a rhetorical question, but Ischarus had said it anyway. “Here they don’t play with the same set of rules that we do, Rhema. Their rules are a bit more lethal and unforgiving than what we’re accustomed to.”

A glint of reflected light caught Ischarus’ attention. The brief shimmer had come from a location a few feet into the trees on the other side of the stone slab. He stepped toward the light and directed Rhema to keep from following. “Stay here and watch out for trouble.”

Rhema looked to Ischarus and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Uh, okay. Where are you going?”

Her question went unanswered as Ischarus let his movement speak for him. He rounded the stone slab and stood between the stone and the tree line. He waited again for the glint of reflected light and when the natural winds blew just right he caught sight of it again. He thrust his hand deep into the undergrowth of the forest and clamped down tightly when he felt something that wasn’t a tree. As he pulled out the object he saw clearly what it was.

A small laugh escaped his mouth before he began to speak. “Well that’s interesting, although not unexpected. This axe is of a goblin make.” He held in his hand a very primitive looking instrument. The highly polished flint blade that had reflected the light was held in place by a significant solid wood handle and a few ropes that had been made from vine fiber.

As Ischarus examined the axe and before Rhema could interrupt him, a strong wind blew through this area of the forest. The wind assaulted both Ischarus and Rhema, blowing Rhema’s hair so strongly that it often lay horizontal out from her head.

Rhema cupped her hands over her mouth to yell in Ischarus’ direction. “I think you’ve found something significant, Ischarus. I’m just not sure if that is a good or bad thing!”

Ischarus could barely hear Rhema shouting over the howling wind. He contemplated putting the axe back but decided against it. As the wind blew, he approached the stone slab and set the primitive axe upon the stone. Immediately the wind silenced into perfect calm. Both Rhema and Ischarus nearly fell over as the force of the wind was removed. Neither realized the force that was required to brace themselves against it.

A strange voice erupted from among the trees. “Well done, people of Tongra.”

The voice came from the same direction as the wind that had just stopped. In an instant Rhema turned to face the voice and she let out a startled yell. Ischarus had his sword drawn in a flash and pivoted to prepare himself to deflect a blow. He was not prepared for what his eyes saw before him.

Rhema had been right before. The image that stood before them was in fact semi-transparent. Ischarus looked on in interest as his eyes made sense of the figure. The figure was completely monochromatic. A light gray colored the figure’s hands, feet, skin, eyes, and clothing. The forest behind him appeared to be a blending of the natural green and the light gray from his skin. The figure wore leather armor and had a sword attached to his belt just above his left hip. On the opposite side of his belt was a hammer. Both of these weapons were light gray and semi-transparent as well.

Underneath the light gray armor the figure wore what appeared to be a simple shirt. The shirt was also of a light gray coloration. His feet had simple traveling boots upon them and his head donned a simple leather cap that covered his short hair and protected his ears. Perhaps what made this figure more real than anything was the way that the eyes blinked naturally.

Rhema spoke through a trembling voice. “Forgive me, but I think you have us at a tremendous disadvantage. Would you care to tell us why we are here?” He hand was extended forward, ready to launch another one of her mental assaults upon this figure. She had no idea of whether or not that kind of attack would even work against the ghostly image.

Ischarus likewise kept his sword drawn and in position. He was even more unsure than Rhema as to what effectiveness his sword would have against this figure, but the comfort of feeling the hilt within his grasp and the support of the pommel below his fingers comforted him in this time of uncertainty. He swallowed hard as he waited for the figure to speak once more.

The figure smiled, and as it did its lips parted slightly. Behind these lips sat a neat set of light-gray teeth. Once again these teeth were exactly the color of the rest of the figure’s body and clothing. It held out its hands in a peaceful gesture and finally spoke. “You’ll not need those weapons with me. Even your mental attacks will not reach me, Rhema.”

Ischarus jumped to the defensive and ignored the figure’s comment about the weapons. He held the sword more directly toward the light gray figure and coldly questioned him. “How do you know her name?”

The figure neither backed down nor showed any fear of Ischarus’ increasingly threatening posture. “I have been listening to you all for several hours, now. I know all of your names. You are Ischarus. You even left Semeion and Charis back at the horses. I know these things; I have been traveling with you this whole day.”

Rhema dropped her hands, more in amazement than out of truly understanding that her attacks couldn’t harm this figure. “Are you the one that Ischarus has been sensing this whole day?”

The figure nodded. “I am the same.”

Ischarus emitted a low growl. “Then why have you waited until now to make yourself seen? I could feel you!”

A sudden look of deep sadness passed over the figure’s face as he looked at the stone slab between Ischarus and Rhema. “I was drawn to your presence as soon as you broke free of the tunnels and entered Quehalost. I have been searching for anyone with a pure heart for what you both feel as the passage of several months. But I had to know if you were capable of caring, first.”

Rhema was moved by the figure’s look. “Caring? We are here because you gave us no other option!” At this point she began to care much less about the fact that she was talking to a very unnatural figure and more about finding out the nature of this figure’s puzzle.

The figure replied in a calm manner. “Yes, Rhema. I needed to know if you were capable of caring about my cause. You see, this stone is the last thing that I ever saw.”

Ischarus began to question the ghostly figure’s assertion, but Rhema beat him to the punch. “Saw? I mean, are you really telling us that you are dead?”

The figure chuckled, its light gray shoulders rising and falling as the look of remorse passed from its face. His face took on a look of amusement. “Forgive me for laughing, I know this is difficult for you to believe. But I am amused that it sounds so shocking to you. I took me the better part of what you now call a year to accept that reality. For me, time is meaningless. But yes, I have come to terms with the fact that I am indeed dead.”

Ischarus and Rhema each glanced at the other person, exchanging looks of confusion. Ischarus spoke first. “But, if you’re dead …”

The amusement passed from the figure’s expression and it once more turned to sorrow as he focused upon the stone. “Then what am I still doing walking the forests of Quehalost?”

Without even thinking about it, Rhema agreed as she exhaled. “Yeah.”

The figure spoke, continuing to stare at the stone. “That is why I needed to know that you were capable of caring. If you are willing, I will share my story with you – and why I believe that I am still attached to this world and unable to move on.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema’s head shook slightly in an affirmative motion in response to Ischarus’ grim assertion. “Yeah. The hands were extended and tied to the stakes. The legs were also extended and tied. That circular burn mark there must be the head.” Her hand shook slightly as she gestured to a small burned spot on the stone. “Who would do such a thing as this?”

Ischarus replied calmly. “Have you forgotten where we are, Rhema?” It was a rhetorical question, but Ischarus had said it anyway. “Here they don’t play with the same set of rules that we do, Rhema. Their rules are a bit more lethal and unforgiving than what we’re accustomed to.”

A glint of reflected light caught Ischarus’ attention. The brief shimmer had come from a location a few feet into the trees on the other side of the stone slab. He stepped toward the light and directed Rhema to keep from following. “Stay here and watch out for trouble.”

Rhema looked to Ischarus and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Uh, okay. Where are you going?”

Her question went unanswered as Ischarus let his movement speak for him. He rounded the stone slab and stood between the stone and the tree line. He waited again for the glint of reflected light and when the natural winds blew just right he caught sight of it again. He thrust his hand deep into the undergrowth of the forest and clamped down tightly when he felt something that wasn’t a tree. As he pulled out the object he saw clearly what it was.

A small laugh escaped his mouth before he began to speak. “Well that’s interesting, although not unexpected. This axe is of a goblin make.” He held in his hand a very primitive looking instrument. The highly polished flint blade that had reflected the light was held in place by a significant solid wood handle and a few ropes that had been made from vine fiber.

As Ischarus examined the axe and before Rhema could interrupt him, a strong wind blew through this area of the forest. The wind assaulted both Ischarus and Rhema, blowing Rhema’s hair so strongly that it often lay horizontal out from her head.

Rhema cupped her hands over her mouth to yell in Ischarus’ direction. “I think you’ve found something significant, Ischarus. I’m just not sure if that is a good or bad thing!”

Ischarus could barely hear Rhema shouting over the howling wind. He contemplated putting the axe back but decided against it. As the wind blew, he approached the stone slab and set the primitive axe upon the stone. Immediately the wind silenced into perfect calm. Both Rhema and Ischarus nearly fell over as the force of the wind was removed. Neither realized the force that was required to brace themselves against it.

A strange voice erupted from among the trees. “Well done, people of Tongra.”

The voice came from the same direction as the wind that had just stopped. In an instant Rhema turned to face the voice and she let out a startled yell. Ischarus had his sword drawn in a flash and pivoted to prepare himself to deflect a blow. He was not prepared for what his eyes saw before him.

Rhema had been right before. The image that stood before them was in fact semi-transparent. Ischarus looked on in interest as his eyes made sense of the figure. The figure was completely monochromatic. A light gray colored the figure’s hands, feet, skin, eyes, and clothing. The forest behind him appeared to be a blending of the natural green and the light gray from his skin. The figure wore leather armor and had a sword attached to his belt just above his left hip. On the opposite side of his belt was a hammer. Both of these weapons were light gray and semi-transparent as well.

Underneath the light gray armor the figure wore what appeared to be a simple shirt. The shirt was also of a light gray coloration. His feet had simple traveling boots upon them and his head donned a simple leather cap that covered his short hair and protected his ears. Perhaps what made this figure more real than anything was the way that the eyes blinked naturally.

Rhema spoke through a trembling voice. “Forgive me, but I think you have us at a tremendous disadvantage. Would you care to tell us why we are here?” He hand was extended forward, ready to launch another one of her mental assaults upon this figure. She had no idea of whether or not that kind of attack would even work against the ghostly image.

Ischarus likewise kept his sword drawn and in position. He was even more unsure than Rhema as to what effectiveness his sword would have against this figure, but the comfort of feeling the hilt within his grasp and the support of the pommel below his fingers comforted him in this time of uncertainty. He swallowed hard as he waited for the figure to speak once more.

The figure smiled, and as it did its lips parted slightly. Behind these lips sat a neat set of light-gray teeth. Once again these teeth were exactly the color of the rest of the figure’s body and clothing. It held out its hands in a peaceful gesture and finally spoke. “You’ll not need those weapons with me. Even your mental attacks will not reach me, Rhema.”

Ischarus jumped to the defensive and ignored the figure’s comment about the weapons. He held the sword more directly toward the light gray figure and coldly questioned him. “How do you know her name?”

The figure neither backed down nor showed any fear of Ischarus’ increasingly threatening posture. “I have been listening to you all for several hours, now. I know all of your names. You are Ischarus. You even left Semeion and Charis back at the horses. I know these things; I have been traveling with you this whole day.”

Rhema dropped her hands, more in amazement than out of truly understanding that her attacks couldn’t harm this figure. “Are you the one that Ischarus has been sensing this whole day?”

The figure nodded. “I am the same.”

Ischarus emitted a low growl. “Then why have you waited until now to make yourself seen? I could feel you!”

A sudden look of deep sadness passed over the figure’s face as he looked at the stone slab between Ischarus and Rhema. “I was drawn to your presence as soon as you broke free of the tunnels and entered Quehalost. I have been searching for anyone with a pure heart for what you both feel as the passage of several months. But I had to know if you were capable of caring, first.”

Rhema was moved by the figure’s look. “Caring? We are here because you gave us no other option!” At this point she began to care much less about the fact that she was talking to a very unnatural figure and more about finding out the nature of this figure’s puzzle.

The figure replied in a calm manner. “Yes, Rhema. I needed to know if you were capable of caring about my cause. You see, this stone is the last thing that I ever saw.”

Ischarus began to question the ghostly figure’s assertion, but Rhema beat him to the punch. “Saw? I mean, are you really telling us that you are dead?”

The figure chuckled, its light gray shoulders rising and falling as the look of remorse passed from its face. His face took on a look of amusement. “Forgive me for laughing, I know this is difficult for you to believe. But I am amused that it sounds so shocking to you. I took me the better part of what you now call a year to accept that reality. For me, time is meaningless. But yes, I have come to terms with the fact that I am indeed dead.”

Ischarus and Rhema each glanced at the other person, exchanging looks of confusion. Ischarus spoke first. “But, if you’re dead …”

The amusement passed from the figure’s expression and it once more turned to sorrow as he focused upon the stone. “Then what am I still doing walking the forests of Quehalost?”

Without even thinking about it, Rhema agreed as she exhaled. “Yeah.”

The figure spoke, continuing to stare at the stone. “That is why I needed to know that you were capable of caring. If you are willing, I will share my story with you – and why I believe that I am still attached to this world and unable to move on.”[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Ischarus and Rhema looked to one another and nodded without even thinking of Semeion and Charis who were still with the horses. They were out with the horses along the path; out-of-sight out-of-mind. The light gray semi-transparent figure took their nod as a sign of interest in its story.

The ghostly image began with a long sigh before speaking. “Some time ago, as I said earlier about the amount of time that you both feel as a year, I was journeying into Quehalost as a scout. The organization that I was working for employed me to travel into Quehalost and look for useful areas. Of course, nobody in their right mind would come into Quehalost and develop the land. It would take too many resources in terms of defense just to keep the place. However, that didn’t mean that my organization couldn’t infiltrate the area and learn what we could from the natives.”

“You might think that Quehalost is a backward region where the constant fighting keeps the level of advances down to a minimum. And in many areas you might be correct. However, the amount of things that we can learn by studying the inhabitants in regard to tactics, defensiveness, and subterfuge is simply amazing. Because this land is such a rolling boil of existence in regard to power and domination these areas have to be taken rather seriously at all times.”

As the figure spoke, both Ischarus and Semeion noticed that while its chest seemed to simulate the heaving and falling of a patterned breathing, the figure was not actually taking in any air. The figures lips moved and the audible sound of his voice could be easily heard, but there was no movement of air. Even as the figure shifted, paced a bit, and even gestured with his hands the air did not stir when it drew close to either Rhema or Ischarus. However, even with this discovery neither Rhema nor Ischarus interrupted the tale.

The figure continued. “Perhaps the thing that impressed me most was this small goblin tribe. Sure, they have more than the small goblins dwelling among them. They have their larger cousins as part of their network. But their territory specifically borders three territories that you would assume would overtake this goblin tribe and enslave them. One the one side there is the land of the red wyrm. This is the one that to this day you seem to be pursuing if I have understood your conversations correctly. On the opposite side of this tribe’s territory and not to far from where I was drawn to you as you rested is a land controlled by a particular figure who seems to have an insane curiosity with creating hordes of animal servants as experiments. At first I thought the figure was a twisted druid that merely gave intelligence to mundane animals. Yet the creatures would also display rather unique phrenic activity. The figure was more than merely a misguided nature worshipper. The third threat is the one that I expected to outright destroy this goblin tribe and its territory. Bordering further towards the center of Quehalost is a land controlled by a demonic lord bent on possession of Quehalost as a portal to dominate the land. The demonic lord works to conquer the land so that it can strip it of its resources in building a vast means to bring his minions into this world to conquer it. This third threat is by far the most aggressive.”

The figure paused, allowing Rhema and Ischarus enough time to absorb the story so far as well as to give them an opportunity to ask any questions. Neither Rhema nor Ischarus desired to interrupt the figure at this point, so the figure continued. “Yet the whole time the goblin tribe has survived through several different means. Against a massive threat they merely vanish. They have learned how to leave the land as if they had never existed here. Like true goblin nature they flee before an insurmountable force, knowing that forfeit is still a better option than death. Once the massive threat has moved through the area, or abandoned the area because no sign of the goblin horde could be found, they reassemble and continue life as normal.”

“Against a smaller threat, they have the ability to fight back. Their use of guerilla tactics is amazing. The smaller goblins attack from afar and whittle the enemy down to a point at which the goblin tribe has vastly superior odds. Then they send in the bigger goblins to make quick work of whatever is left. Their ingenuity and ability to monitor their land is really quite impressive. That is why I acted to bring you in along their trail. If you would have moved in the direction you were headed they would have been alerted to your presence and you would have been subject to their guerilla tactics. You likely would have died a fate similar to mine.”

For the first time, Ischarus spoke. “Well, as frustrating as that trip was it is appreciated in retrospect.

The figure replied with a smile. “As I said before, the frustration was necessary because I needed to learn about your motivations for being in the land.”

“Anyway, the more and more trips that I took into Quehalost the more I found myself growing fond of this goblin tribe. When I would plan my trips I would intentionally plan them so that I would come in and out through this area simply so that I could spend a few days among them. I watched them and learned from them. Besides, the more I traveled through this land the more it began to feel like home and this truly became the safest way for me to come in and out of Quehalost.”

Rhema nodded slowly. “That much we understand. It is nice to travel through such dangerous land on ground that you are most familiar with. It minimizes accidents.”

The figure smiled. “Exactly. So I began to grow fond of these goblins. And then a year ago it happened to me. I was watching the goblin tribe from a distance, curious about how they would handle a minor incursion of the druid’s latest creation. The druid had managed to breed several black bears with the intelligence and ability to seemingly stun their prey with a thought. The bears would then close on their wounded prey and finish the job. I had been trailing the bears when I noticed that they were headed for the goblin territory. I moved ahead of the bears and waited for the goblin tribe to be alerted to their presence. I wanted to learn how the goblins would react to this threat.”

After a short pause in the story, Rhema noted that the figure had paused with a look of sorrow upon his face. She decided to help along this portion of the story. “I take it that the exploration did not go well?”

The figure dropped his eyes to the ground. “I scouted ahead too late. By the time I recognized the bears were headed into the goblin territory the goblins had already been alerted. They had already taken up defensive posts without me knowing about it. I walked right into one of their traps. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late. I even knew their tactics but could do nothing to prevent my capture.”

“Because I was only a single person who had been caught unaware I was not much of a threat. I was taken to their tribal center where they starved me nearly to the point of death. They displayed me for several days in a steel cage that was too short for me to even stand up and to narrow for me to lie down. I believe they learned this tactic from the red wyrm that you seek. I spent several days with some portion of my body bent. One day I was stripped of my armor and clothing and led out here to this stone. I was so weak that escape was not an option. They tied me up …”

Ischarus interrupted the story, watching Rhema as the figure arrived at this portion of the story. “I think we get the rest of the story. The evidence here makes it pretty certain. But that doesn’t do much to explain why you are still here.”

The figure nodded slowly at Ischarus’ interruption and looked Ischarus in the face once more when he asked his question. “The reason that I am here, so far as I can tell, is because the goblin tribe still displays my leather and my weapons in the middle of their village as a trophy. I have a mother and a father at home in Tongra and they are awaiting my return. They must be told of my death, and bringing my armor and weapons to them would bring an end to their waiting.”

Rhema looked a bit surprised. “That is why you remain here? Your equipment needs to be returned?”

The figure nodded once more, this time shifting his look to Rhema. “As far as I can tell, that is the reason I stay behind, unable to move on. My death is a mere disappearance in the lives of my family and my organization. My family must learn of my demise so that they can move on with their lives. Fortunately I never married nor had children. All I leave behind is parents and siblings. My items are insignificant except that they are the only proof to my family that I have died.”

Rhema began to speak, but Ischarus cut her off. “We’ll need to discuss this matter with the other two in our party.”

The figure nodded, and suddenly looked quite alert. The ghostly figure’s eyes popped wide open and he spoke with great urgency. “Yes, indeed! And we must hurry!”

The figure vanished from sight and a small gust of wind blew through the trees, passing directly across the flat horizontal sacrifice stone.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus and Rhema looked to one another and nodded without even thinking of Semeion and Charis who were still with the horses. They were out with the horses along the path; out-of-sight out-of-mind. The light gray semi-transparent figure took their nod as a sign of interest in its story.

The ghostly image began with a long sigh before speaking. “Some time ago, as I said earlier about the amount of time that you both feel as a year, I was journeying into Quehalost as a scout. The organization that I was working for employed me to travel into Quehalost and look for useful areas. Of course, nobody in their right mind would come into Quehalost and develop the land. It would take too many resources in terms of defense just to keep the place. However, that didn’t mean that my organization couldn’t infiltrate the area and learn what we could from the natives.”

“You might think that Quehalost is a backward region where the constant fighting keeps the level of advances down to a minimum. And in many areas you might be correct. However, the amount of things that we can learn by studying the inhabitants in regard to tactics, defensiveness, and subterfuge is simply amazing. Because this land is such a rolling boil of existence in regard to power and domination these areas have to be taken rather seriously at all times.”

As the figure spoke, both Ischarus and Semeion noticed that while its chest seemed to simulate the heaving and falling of a patterned breathing, the figure was not actually taking in any air. The figures lips moved and the audible sound of his voice could be easily heard, but there was no movement of air. Even as the figure shifted, paced a bit, and even gestured with his hands the air did not stir when it drew close to either Rhema or Ischarus. However, even with this discovery neither Rhema nor Ischarus interrupted the tale.

The figure continued. “Perhaps the thing that impressed me most was this small goblin tribe. Sure, they have more than the small goblins dwelling among them. They have their larger cousins as part of their network. But their territory specifically borders three territories that you would assume would overtake this goblin tribe and enslave them. One the one side there is the land of the red wyrm. This is the one that to this day you seem to be pursuing if I have understood your conversations correctly. On the opposite side of this tribe’s territory and not to far from where I was drawn to you as you rested is a land controlled by a particular figure who seems to have an insane curiosity with creating hordes of animal servants as experiments. At first I thought the figure was a twisted druid that merely gave intelligence to mundane animals. Yet the creatures would also display rather unique phrenic activity. The figure was more than merely a misguided nature worshipper. The third threat is the one that I expected to outright destroy this goblin tribe and its territory. Bordering further towards the center of Quehalost is a land controlled by a demonic lord bent on possession of Quehalost as a portal to dominate the land. The demonic lord works to conquer the land so that it can strip it of its resources in building a vast means to bring his minions into this world to conquer it. This third threat is by far the most aggressive.”

The figure paused, allowing Rhema and Ischarus enough time to absorb the story so far as well as to give them an opportunity to ask any questions. Neither Rhema nor Ischarus desired to interrupt the figure at this point, so the figure continued. “Yet the whole time the goblin tribe has survived through several different means. Against a massive threat they merely vanish. They have learned how to leave the land as if they had never existed here. Like true goblin nature they flee before an insurmountable force, knowing that forfeit is still a better option than death. Once the massive threat has moved through the area, or abandoned the area because no sign of the goblin horde could be found, they reassemble and continue life as normal.”

“Against a smaller threat, they have the ability to fight back. Their use of guerilla tactics is amazing. The smaller goblins attack from afar and whittle the enemy down to a point at which the goblin tribe has vastly superior odds. Then they send in the bigger goblins to make quick work of whatever is left. Their ingenuity and ability to monitor their land is really quite impressive. That is why I acted to bring you in along their trail. If you would have moved in the direction you were headed they would have been alerted to your presence and you would have been subject to their guerilla tactics. You likely would have died a fate similar to mine.”

For the first time, Ischarus spoke. “Well, as frustrating as that trip was it is appreciated in retrospect.

The figure replied with a smile. “As I said before, the frustration was necessary because I needed to learn about your motivations for being in the land.”

“Anyway, the more and more trips that I took into Quehalost the more I found myself growing fond of this goblin tribe. When I would plan my trips I would intentionally plan them so that I would come in and out through this area simply so that I could spend a few days among them. I watched them and learned from them. Besides, the more I traveled through this land the more it began to feel like home and this truly became the safest way for me to come in and out of Quehalost.”

Rhema nodded slowly. “That much we understand. It is nice to travel through such dangerous land on ground that you are most familiar with. It minimizes accidents.”

The figure smiled. “Exactly. So I began to grow fond of these goblins. And then a year ago it happened to me. I was watching the goblin tribe from a distance, curious about how they would handle a minor incursion of the druid’s latest creation. The druid had managed to breed several black bears with the intelligence and ability to seemingly stun their prey with a thought. The bears would then close on their wounded prey and finish the job. I had been trailing the bears when I noticed that they were headed for the goblin territory. I moved ahead of the bears and waited for the goblin tribe to be alerted to their presence. I wanted to learn how the goblins would react to this threat.”

After a short pause in the story, Rhema noted that the figure had paused with a look of sorrow upon his face. She decided to help along this portion of the story. “I take it that the exploration did not go well?”

The figure dropped his eyes to the ground. “I scouted ahead too late. By the time I recognized the bears were headed into the goblin territory the goblins had already been alerted. They had already taken up defensive posts without me knowing about it. I walked right into one of their traps. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late. I even knew their tactics but could do nothing to prevent my capture.”

“Because I was only a single person who had been caught unaware I was not much of a threat. I was taken to their tribal center where they starved me nearly to the point of death. They displayed me for several days in a steel cage that was too short for me to even stand up and to narrow for me to lie down. I believe they learned this tactic from the red wyrm that you seek. I spent several days with some portion of my body bent. One day I was stripped of my armor and clothing and led out here to this stone. I was so weak that escape was not an option. They tied me up …”

Ischarus interrupted the story, watching Rhema as the figure arrived at this portion of the story. “I think we get the rest of the story. The evidence here makes it pretty certain. But that doesn’t do much to explain why you are still here.”

The figure nodded slowly at Ischarus’ interruption and looked Ischarus in the face once more when he asked his question. “The reason that I am here, so far as I can tell, is because the goblin tribe still displays my leather and my weapons in the middle of their village as a trophy. I have a mother and a father at home in Tongra and they are awaiting my return. They must be told of my death, and bringing my armor and weapons to them would bring an end to their waiting.”

Rhema looked a bit surprised. “That is why you remain here? Your equipment needs to be returned?”

The figure nodded once more, this time shifting his look to Rhema. “As far as I can tell, that is the reason I stay behind, unable to move on. My death is a mere disappearance in the lives of my family and my organization. My family must learn of my demise so that they can move on with their lives. Fortunately I never married nor had children. All I leave behind is parents and siblings. My items are insignificant except that they are the only proof to my family that I have died.”

Rhema began to speak, but Ischarus cut her off. “We’ll need to discuss this matter with the other two in our party.”

The figure nodded, and suddenly looked quite alert. The ghostly figure’s eyes popped wide open and he spoke with great urgency. “Yes, indeed! And we must hurry!”

The figure vanished from sight and a small gust of wind blew through the trees, passing directly across the flat horizontal sacrifice stone.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Ischarus looked at Rhema as the figure vanished into thin air. “I hate to be the one to state the obvious,” Ischarus spoke and stopped to breathe.

Rhema cut Ischarus short. “But that can’t be good …” Rhema smiled as Ischarus looked to her in mild irritation for stealing his thunder. She shrugged her shoulders and extended her hands palm up. “What? I didn’t want you to be the one to state the obvious!”

Ischarus offered up a single laugh and stepped away from the stone into the undergrowth of the woods. As Rhema listened to him run away, she heard the draw of steel as his sword slipped out of its scabbard. She breathed deeply and took off after him. She listened closely to follow his path. Ischarus always had better directional sense than she did and he’d know the shortest way back to the horses. She yelled ahead as Ischarus charged through the trees. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Ischarus!”

As the two dashed through the undergrowth, suddenly Ischarus saw a light gray object before him. He was running too hard to stop before reaching the figure and before he knew it he heard the voice of the ghostly image speaking to him. “Stop, Ischarus!”

It was too late. Ischarus passed straight through the figure and emerged out the other side before he could stop. By that point in time Ischarus could see the trail just beyond a few more trees. He was able to stop before emerging onto the trail.

As Rhema approached Ischarus’ back she both heard and saw the light gray figure and was able to stop before passing through it. As she watched Ischarus pass completely through the shadowy gray figure, she also watched as the figure vanished before her. She slowly approached Ischarus’ position only a few feet from the road and she saw the light gray figure reappear before Ischarus. He had a finger raised to his lips as a sign to be quiet.

Ischarus raised an eyebrow at the appearance of the light gray figure. “What was that about?” Ischarus whispered in annoyance.

The figure breathed in and smiled. As he exhaled, Ischarus noticed again that there was no noticeable movement of air as he breathed. “That was the only way I could get you to stop on time. Now listen!”

Both Ischarus and Rhema paused and their breathing became shallower. They listened intently and heard five voices rapidly talking.

The first voice they heard was familiar to them. It was in fact Charis speaking fast. They could tell from her tone that she was clearly nervous and trying to be persuasive. “Listen, Granknog, There is no reason that your friends and I have to get into any kind of fight here. I respect your power, but you don’t have any idea what kind of fight you are in for. I’d suggest that you put that mace away and ask your friends to step back.”

A hostile voice replied. “Bah, you speak foolish, human. We will drag you off whether you come willingly or we have to kill you first.” The voice was higher pitched than Charis’ own voice, and there were two chuckles added to the haughty arrogance of the first speaker.

Ischarus smiled at Rhema. “Goblins.” His smile broadened as he whispered to Rhema and his hand clenched his sword even tighter.

Rhema reached out with her hand and placed it on Ischarus’ shoulder. She continued the whispering as she replied. “Wait. There might be another way. There might be a way that can get them out of their jam without bloodshed as well as get us what we need for our gray friend here.” Rhema’s face displayed a devious smile and as she gave Ischarus a wink she knew that he was caught with curiosity to her plan. With careful silence he stowed his blade and waited for Rhema’s signal.

Back on the trail, Semeion was adding to Charis’ statement. “I don’t think you really do know what you are talking about. You see how many horses we have here, right?”

Another voice, this one slightly deeper than Semeion’s own voice, replied. “Yes, but horse thieves go with more horses than they need all the time. You steal horses; we kill you and steal them back.”

Ischarus couldn’t help but to chuckle at the fairly obscure logic of the not-so-brilliant voice of the second goblin that they heard speak. With her hand still on his shoulder, Rhema felt Ischarus’ shoulders begin to shake as he snickered to himself. She too couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head.

Of course, Semeion responded with a bit of confusion. “What on earth does the fact that we have four horses have to do with us being horse thieves?”

The not-so-logical voice replied again, “There, you admit you are horse thieves. We now have more reason to kill you.” Two high pitched goblin sounding snickers accompanied the lower pitched voice’s assertion.

The third goblin voice followed up the conclusion of the lower voice. “Listen, basically what my friend, Bahkahr, is trying to say here is that we don’t need any more reasons to kill you. We basically just want to kill you because you’re on our territory and we defend it pretty fiercely. So you can either give up and let us take you back to town or you can put up a fight and recognize that the day of your death has come.”

Rhema stepped forward out onto the trail, emerging from the undergrowth a single pace behind the goblin trio. She wasn’t terribly surprised to find two goblins and one of their nastier large kin standing before her. As they turned in surprise, Rhema reached out and touched the goblin closest to her.

Granknog stepped back, but was unable to avoid her touch. Ischarus stepped out behind her and smiled grimly at the large one as Rhema spoke. “You don’t really want to take on the four of us, do you?”

The smaller goblin that Rhema had not touched spoke in reply. From the voice, she could tell that it was the more intelligent goblin who had spoken last. “Yeah, well, this changes things a little. Perhaps we might be willing to talk a bit longer.”

Rhema smiled deviously once more and looked directly at the goblin that she had touched. “Why don’t you tell your friends here that you’d rather they stay behind while you leave and go back to the village. If you do that much for me, I’ll guarantee that my big friend here with the sword won’t get nasty.”

Bahkahr spoke in his low voice. “Why Granknog say that?”

Granknog spoke harshly to his larger affiliate. “Cause it’s true you oversized muscle. She’s right. I knew that we should’ve brought the pair of swords that hangs in the center of our village. If we had those swords, we could intimidate these losers even more through our gloating of what our tribe did to that spy a year ago. If I had those swords, I’d be much more powerful.”

Bahkahr looked dumbfounded by Granknog’s speech. “But those swords are too big for you, Granknog.”

The third goblin didn’t seem to follow Granknog’s logic any more than Bahkahr. The third goblin spoke, exposing his growing irritation. “Granknog, you’re not making any sense even for you. What does having those swords have to do with these people?”

Granknog merely snarled in return. “You wouldn’t understand anyway. That skin of yours is so thick that a good idea would just bounce off your head anyway.”

Granknog pushed forward past Rhema in irritation towards his companions, and Rhema let him go. Ischarus didn’t try to stop him either. He’d seen this trick before. Rhema wasn’t the most charming person without her powers, but he knew that she had the ability to create a burning desire for any one thing within most people. All it took was a simple touch of her hand. He had seen her turn an enemy into a non-threat merely by touching the creature and creating an obsession within them. Once the obsession was born, it was merely a matter of removing the threat of violence and letting the obsession take over.

Bahkahr stepped forward as if to follow Granknog, but Ischarus placed his hand threateningly upon the hilt of his sword and stepped directly into his path. His calm voice took on a sly tone as he spoke to the less than intelligent larger opponent. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Granknog has indicated that you are to stay here. Now, I believe the battle currently stands at four on two. I’d recommend you stay right where you were.”

The third goblin wasn’t sure what to make of this odd run of events. However, he knew when he had been beaten. He also knew that fighting now would lead to an unpleasant end. He decided that keeping his large friend under control was the best way to ensure his safety for the longest time. “Bahkahr, stay here. Granknog will be back soon enough. The village isn’t that far and I doubt he’ll be able to come back with those swords anyway.”

Bahkahr stood still and stuck out his lower lip as if he was deep in thought. After a few moments he looked to Ischarus and added, “Okay, Frang. I’ll stay with you for now. But Bahkahr better come back soon. I don’t wait well.”

Ischarus looked over top of the goblin and caught Charis’ and Semeion’s attention. He gave them a knowing smile. “Now, I am assuming that since you goblins don’t want any trouble that you are going put your weapons on the ground.”

Bahkahr began to obey the suggestion until Frang spoke. “Don’t be a fool, Bahkahr. They don’t want to fight us unless they have to. We keep our weapons and wait. When Granknog comes back, we’ll continue this. For now, they can be happy simply keeping us here without complaint.”

Bahkahr smiled, “Okay. We wait then. Big man looses.”

Semeion began to step forward, but Ischarus looked him off. “Fine. We wait here in a standoff until Granknog comes back. Don’t try anything stupid.” He’d rather they wait without the threat of violence, but Rhema had worked hard to create a way to recover the weapons. If that was able to succeed they’d be that much closer to avoiding conflict with the goblin tribe and recovering the light gray figure’s equipment.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus looked at Rhema as the figure vanished into thin air. “I hate to be the one to state the obvious,” Ischarus spoke and stopped to breathe.

Rhema cut Ischarus short. “But that can’t be good …” Rhema smiled as Ischarus looked to her in mild irritation for stealing his thunder. She shrugged her shoulders and extended her hands palm up. “What? I didn’t want you to be the one to state the obvious!”

Ischarus offered up a single laugh and stepped away from the stone into the undergrowth of the woods. As Rhema listened to him run away, she heard the draw of steel as his sword slipped out of its scabbard. She breathed deeply and took off after him. She listened closely to follow his path. Ischarus always had better directional sense than she did and he’d know the shortest way back to the horses. She yelled ahead as Ischarus charged through the trees. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Ischarus!”

As the two dashed through the undergrowth, suddenly Ischarus saw a light gray object before him. He was running too hard to stop before reaching the figure and before he knew it he heard the voice of the ghostly image speaking to him. “Stop, Ischarus!”

It was too late. Ischarus passed straight through the figure and emerged out the other side before he could stop. By that point in time Ischarus could see the trail just beyond a few more trees. He was able to stop before emerging onto the trail.

As Rhema approached Ischarus’ back she both heard and saw the light gray figure and was able to stop before passing through it. As she watched Ischarus pass completely through the shadowy gray figure, she also watched as the figure vanished before her. She slowly approached Ischarus’ position only a few feet from the road and she saw the light gray figure reappear before Ischarus. He had a finger raised to his lips as a sign to be quiet.

Ischarus raised an eyebrow at the appearance of the light gray figure. “What was that about?” Ischarus whispered in annoyance.

The figure breathed in and smiled. As he exhaled, Ischarus noticed again that there was no noticeable movement of air as he breathed. “That was the only way I could get you to stop on time. Now listen!”

Both Ischarus and Rhema paused and their breathing became shallower. They listened intently and heard five voices rapidly talking.

The first voice they heard was familiar to them. It was in fact Charis speaking fast. They could tell from her tone that she was clearly nervous and trying to be persuasive. “Listen, Granknog, There is no reason that your friends and I have to get into any kind of fight here. I respect your power, but you don’t have any idea what kind of fight you are in for. I’d suggest that you put that mace away and ask your friends to step back.”

A hostile voice replied. “Bah, you speak foolish, human. We will drag you off whether you come willingly or we have to kill you first.” The voice was higher pitched than Charis’ own voice, and there were two chuckles added to the haughty arrogance of the first speaker.

Ischarus smiled at Rhema. “Goblins.” His smile broadened as he whispered to Rhema and his hand clenched his sword even tighter.

Rhema reached out with her hand and placed it on Ischarus’ shoulder. She continued the whispering as she replied. “Wait. There might be another way. There might be a way that can get them out of their jam without bloodshed as well as get us what we need for our gray friend here.” Rhema’s face displayed a devious smile and as she gave Ischarus a wink she knew that he was caught with curiosity to her plan. With careful silence he stowed his blade and waited for Rhema’s signal.

Back on the trail, Semeion was adding to Charis’ statement. “I don’t think you really do know what you are talking about. You see how many horses we have here, right?”

Another voice, this one slightly deeper than Semeion’s own voice, replied. “Yes, but horse thieves go with more horses than they need all the time. You steal horses; we kill you and steal them back.”

Ischarus couldn’t help but to chuckle at the fairly obscure logic of the not-so-brilliant voice of the second goblin that they heard speak. With her hand still on his shoulder, Rhema felt Ischarus’ shoulders begin to shake as he snickered to himself. She too couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head.

Of course, Semeion responded with a bit of confusion. “What on earth does the fact that we have four horses have to do with us being horse thieves?”

The not-so-logical voice replied again, “There, you admit you are horse thieves. We now have more reason to kill you.” Two high pitched goblin sounding snickers accompanied the lower pitched voice’s assertion.

The third goblin voice followed up the conclusion of the lower voice. “Listen, basically what my friend, Bahkahr, is trying to say here is that we don’t need any more reasons to kill you. We basically just want to kill you because you’re on our territory and we defend it pretty fiercely. So you can either give up and let us take you back to town or you can put up a fight and recognize that the day of your death has come.”

Rhema stepped forward out onto the trail, emerging from the undergrowth a single pace behind the goblin trio. She wasn’t terribly surprised to find two goblins and one of their nastier large kin standing before her. As they turned in surprise, Rhema reached out and touched the goblin closest to her.

Granknog stepped back, but was unable to avoid her touch. Ischarus stepped out behind her and smiled grimly at the large one as Rhema spoke. “You don’t really want to take on the four of us, do you?”

The smaller goblin that Rhema had not touched spoke in reply. From the voice, she could tell that it was the more intelligent goblin who had spoken last. “Yeah, well, this changes things a little. Perhaps we might be willing to talk a bit longer.”

Rhema smiled deviously once more and looked directly at the goblin that she had touched. “Why don’t you tell your friends here that you’d rather they stay behind while you leave and go back to the village. If you do that much for me, I’ll guarantee that my big friend here with the sword won’t get nasty.”

Bahkahr spoke in his low voice. “Why Granknog say that?”

Granknog spoke harshly to his larger affiliate. “Cause it’s true you oversized muscle. She’s right. I knew that we should’ve brought the pair of swords that hangs in the center of our village. If we had those swords, we could intimidate these losers even more through our gloating of what our tribe did to that spy a year ago. If I had those swords, I’d be much more powerful.”

Bahkahr looked dumbfounded by Granknog’s speech. “But those swords are too big for you, Granknog.”

The third goblin didn’t seem to follow Granknog’s logic any more than Bahkahr. The third goblin spoke, exposing his growing irritation. “Granknog, you’re not making any sense even for you. What does having those swords have to do with these people?”

Granknog merely snarled in return. “You wouldn’t understand anyway. That skin of yours is so thick that a good idea would just bounce off your head anyway.”

Granknog pushed forward past Rhema in irritation towards his companions, and Rhema let him go. Ischarus didn’t try to stop him either. He’d seen this trick before. Rhema wasn’t the most charming person without her powers, but he knew that she had the ability to create a burning desire for any one thing within most people. All it took was a simple touch of her hand. He had seen her turn an enemy into a non-threat merely by touching the creature and creating an obsession within them. Once the obsession was born, it was merely a matter of removing the threat of violence and letting the obsession take over.

Bahkahr stepped forward as if to follow Granknog, but Ischarus placed his hand threateningly upon the hilt of his sword and stepped directly into his path. His calm voice took on a sly tone as he spoke to the less than intelligent larger opponent. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Granknog has indicated that you are to stay here. Now, I believe the battle currently stands at four on two. I’d recommend you stay right where you were.”

The third goblin wasn’t sure what to make of this odd run of events. However, he knew when he had been beaten. He also knew that fighting now would lead to an unpleasant end. He decided that keeping his large friend under control was the best way to ensure his safety for the longest time. “Bahkahr, stay here. Granknog will be back soon enough. The village isn’t that far and I doubt he’ll be able to come back with those swords anyway.”

Bahkahr stood still and stuck out his lower lip as if he was deep in thought. After a few moments he looked to Ischarus and added, “Okay, Frang. I’ll stay with you for now. But Bahkahr better come back soon. I don’t wait well.”

Ischarus looked over top of the goblin and caught Charis’ and Semeion’s attention. He gave them a knowing smile. “Now, I am assuming that since you goblins don’t want any trouble that you are going put your weapons on the ground.”

Bahkahr began to obey the suggestion until Frang spoke. “Don’t be a fool, Bahkahr. They don’t want to fight us unless they have to. We keep our weapons and wait. When Granknog comes back, we’ll continue this. For now, they can be happy simply keeping us here without complaint.”

Bahkahr smiled, “Okay. We wait then. Big man looses.”

Semeion began to step forward, but Ischarus looked him off. “Fine. We wait here in a standoff until Granknog comes back. Don’t try anything stupid.” He’d rather they wait without the threat of violence, but Rhema had worked hard to create a way to recover the weapons. If that was able to succeed they’d be that much closer to avoiding conflict with the goblin tribe and recovering the light gray figure’s equipment.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The wait seemed to be eternal for the party. The pair of goblin kin stood silently waiting in the midst of the party knowing that they had been outmaneuvered. The party had taken up opposite positions with Ischarus and Rhema protecting the trail toward the goblin village and Semeion and Charis protecting the path away from the village. Although they outnumbered the goblins two to one, there was still a need to be watchful and keep them at bay.

Eventually Granknog returned, toting a pair of swords. He looked a bit ridiculous carrying the swords, for although they were normal sized swords for Ischarus and his companions they were about double the length of a sword designed for someone of Granknog’s more diminutive size. As Granknog walked, he kept one sword resting precariously on his shoulder. The other sword he tried to hold out before him and practiced maneuvering with it. Of course, the weapon weighed more than weapons normally of his size. The extra weight more than once brought the sword down to the ground. When the tip stuck fast in the ground the hilt would drive itself into Granknog’s gut. After coughing and evading the sharp blade of the sword resting on his shoulder, Gronknog would pull the tip of the blade out of the ground try again, only to have the same results a few steps later.

As Frang heard Granknog returning, he mumbled slightly under his breath so that nobody could hear him. Even Bahkahr gave Frang a strange look.

Ischarus couldn’t help disputing with the smaller goblin at the mumble. There was a sharp tone in his voice. “What’d you say, goblin?”

Frang snarled at Ischarus, allowing his sharp teeth to show between his blue tinted lips. Once Granknog had come into view Frang spoke loudly. “I said that it is a shame Granknog only brought the swords back. The true sacrifice contained armor, too. It is displayed in our village as a testimony to our resilience and a sacrifice to our god to keep us safe.”

Rhema stood up straight. She was intrigued by Frang’s words. Ischarus turned to look at her and could tell that she had a plan scheming in her mind. He stepped back as she stepped forward and approached the goblin. “Careful what you wish for, Frang. It could be arranged.”

Frang snarled again as Rhema threatened to touch him. “Ha! I’m not scared of your powers, witch. Granknog is a weak-minded fool. He’s sneaky, of course, but you cannot overcome my greatness with your sorcery.”

Rhema reached out with a single finger and held it a few inches away from Frang’s face. His eyes glared down his pointed nose and he watched the tip of her finger. As the finger drew near to her, he lunged forward and snapped at her finger. His razor sharp teeth caught nothing but air as Rhema dodged his attack. Before he could get out of the way, Rhema had her right hand underneath the goblin’s jaw in a firm grip. She looked deep into his eyes and the two locked in a stare down for a few seconds. No words were exchanged, but eventually Rhema smiled and pushed Frang back, releasing his jaw.

Frang glared at Rhema. “I’d think twice about doing that to a goblin that has flayed more than one of your kind, witch. If I had that suit of armor to prove it, you’d know the power that I speak of.”

Rhema smiled at Ischarus, exchanging a look with her oldest friend. As she turned her back on Frang she added, “Fine. Once Granknog has returned, we’ll exchange him for you. You can go and get that leather armor that you are so proud of. When you return, we’ll see how powerful I see you.”

A greedy look flashed through Frang’s eyes. “Done. And when I return, you shall feel the same force as the fool who was burned for the same arrogance that you now display. When I have that armor, you will see my power!”

Granknog reached the party at the same time as Frang finished speaking. His eyes shifted back and forth from Ischarus to Rhema and finally to Frang. He held the swords out menacingly, one of the tips pointed at Ischarus and one of the tips pointed at Rhema. “See? These swords are clearly not of goblin make, and they are clearly not goblin sized. And with these beautiful pieces of equipment I shall slice open your guts and expose your innards across the trail for the bear to find.”

Semeion approached from the other side of the trail, keeping an eye on Bahkahr while making Granknog chose between him and his other two targets. The maneuver was a tactical ploy to remind him that they were still unbalanced as far as numbers were concerned. “Be that as it may, Granknog, but we have arranged another deal with your associate. He seems to think that if you have the swords and he has the leather armor then we will truly be intimidated. While I likely doubt anything you or Frang could bring would intimidate us, it seems as though Frang would like an opportunity to try.”

Ischarus drew his sword out of its scabbard and used the tip of his sword to knock the blade pointed at him into the ground. Granknog was unable to keep it from hitting the ground on account of its great weight for his small frame. As the blade struck the ground, Ischarus spoke mockingly to Granknog. “And just like these two were kept safe until you returned to prove your point, you will join Bahkahr over there until Frang returns.”

Granknog shrugged and lifted the heavy blade once more off of the ground. An air of pleasure passed over the goblin’s face as the blade rose under his minimal control. “It makes no matter. Now that I have the swords, nothing can stop me. If Frang needs the armor, who cares?”

Bahkahr stood between the goblins with a dumbfounded look upon his hairy face. He raised a thick hand up to scratch his left hairy eyebrow and curled his lip on the left side of his mouth as he sucked in a deep breath. Frang looked to Granknog as he focused intently upon the blades, allowing the rest of the world pass him by. From Frang’s perspective Granknog was too impulsively self-absorbed into the blades to be of any good. “You and those blades, Granknog. Those blades will be the end of you, mark my words! But once I have the armor from the human that we burned then you shall see what true power is, fool.”

Granknog broke out of his trance to offer a snarl to Frang and then smiled subtly. “You think that you are so smart, but you’ll not be able to avoid being seen taking the armor. My skills came in much more handy in borrowing these great blades than yours will in getting you the leather.”

Frang merely smiled and mumbled again. This time the mumble was audible. “Ruinous Fool.” As he spoke he cast a quick glance to Ischarus and then looked to Rhema. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a suit of leather to retrieve. Then you will see exactly how powerful we can be.”

Rhema spit in Frang’s direction. She was careful not to hit him with it. “Go and get your precious treasure, goblin. I can hardly wait to see your false power.”

Frang almost seemed to laugh as he smirked at Rhema’s words. The goblin slipped past her just out of reach and replied to her bravado. “Oh, you will see power. You will see a power that slew the last arrogant human who met us. And like him, I will make sure that your body is burned upon our stone slab. And I will wear his leather armor as you are lit on fire!”

Rhema turned her back on Frang and let him disappear down the path. Ischarus smiled once he was out of earshot. Rhema knew the smile and she knew that Ischarus understood that she had used her power on Frang when she grabbed him by the jaw. Frang was now obsessed with the leather much like Granknog was obsessed with the blades.

She turned from Ischarus to look at the pair of goblin kin that were left. Granknog seemed oblivious to the world around him and played joyfully with the much too large pair of swords. He didn’t even seem to need to be guarded because he certainly didn’t seem to care that Ischarus was near him. Bahkahr stood by his smaller kin, fascinated by Granknog’s play with the swords. The swords would have looked natural in Bahkahr’s hands but Granknog was not about to give them up.

Charis left Semeion on the backside of the party and approached Rhema. She whispered, “Alright, I trust that you and Ischarus know what you guys are doing. But can you fill me in a bit?”

Rhema smiled and nodded to Ischarus. She stepped back and turned around so that she faced away from the goblin pair and into the undergrowth of the woods. Once Charis had turned with her she replied, “One of the powers that I possess allows me to create an obsession within someone. Once they are obsessed, so long as they are not threatened they will do anything they can to get close to and claim the objects of their desire. That is why I knew Granknog would get the swords. I also knew that if he wanted to keep them without getting into trouble he would find a way to do it without alerting the rest of his goblin clan.”

Charis smiled. “So then you did the same thing within Frang?”

Rhema nodded. “Yep. At this moment his mind should be obsessing over how he can get the leather armor away from his clan without getting caught. I only hope he is up to the task as much as Granknog apparently was.”

Chairs smiled in understanding and appreciation for Rhema’s ability to manipulate these weaker minded opponents. “But why do we want them to get it? And who is this person that they killed to get this armor?”

Rhema nodded, realizing for the first time that neither Charis nor Semeion knew about the light gray figure that she and Ischarus had met in the woods. Rhema turned to look over her shoulder and make sure that the goblins were behaving. Once she was sure that they weren’t up to anything foolish, she motioned for Charis to follow her. Together they approached Semeion and while they waited for Frang to return Rhema explained to Charis and Semeion what they had learned in the forest.

After what seemed an eternity equal to that which they had spent waiting for Granknog to return, the party finally heard Frang coming down the trail. Once he was in view, they could see that he had the leather armor in tow. He was smiling broadly from ear to ear and a greedy twinkle flashed through his eyes. As he approached the party he stepped in beside Granknog and Bahkahr. His smile vanished and his look of greed transmuted into a sly devious scowl. As best he could, he tossed the leather armor at the feet of Rhema.

Rhema looked to him, unsure of what he was doing. Granknog was only now coming out from under the effects of her charm; Frang shouldn’t want to part with the leather armor for a good while yet. She crouched down and caught the leather collar in her hand.

As she stood, Frang began to laugh and explain her smile. “I promised you power, and I promised that you would see it, human.” The goblin spoke defiantly now. Something was wrong. Semeion, Charis, and Ischarus all looked to Rhema for understanding, but Rhema had none. Her heart rate accelerated as the goblin spoke. “I give you the power that killed the human whose things we brought to you.”

The undergrowth around them began to rustle and Rhema knew what was happening. It was too late. Her eyes flashed wide with understanding as over twenty goblins emerged around them from within the undergrowth. They had been double-crossed. Her attempt to control Frang had failed and Frang had beaten her in her own game. Frang had understood from the beginning what she did to Granknog, and had used that knowledge against her!

The sound of steel rang out as every one of the goblins and their larger kin were instantly armed. Everyone, including the party, were sweating, breathing hard, and judging their opponents.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The wait seemed to be eternal for the party. The pair of goblin kin stood silently waiting in the midst of the party knowing that they had been outmaneuvered. The party had taken up opposite positions with Ischarus and Rhema protecting the trail toward the goblin village and Semeion and Charis protecting the path away from the village. Although they outnumbered the goblins two to one, there was still a need to be watchful and keep them at bay.

Eventually Granknog returned, toting a pair of swords. He looked a bit ridiculous carrying the swords, for although they were normal sized swords for Ischarus and his companions they were about double the length of a sword designed for someone of Granknog’s more diminutive size. As Granknog walked, he kept one sword resting precariously on his shoulder. The other sword he tried to hold out before him and practiced maneuvering with it. Of course, the weapon weighed more than weapons normally of his size. The extra weight more than once brought the sword down to the ground. When the tip stuck fast in the ground the hilt would drive itself into Granknog’s gut. After coughing and evading the sharp blade of the sword resting on his shoulder, Gronknog would pull the tip of the blade out of the ground try again, only to have the same results a few steps later.

As Frang heard Granknog returning, he mumbled slightly under his breath so that nobody could hear him. Even Bahkahr gave Frang a strange look.

Ischarus couldn’t help disputing with the smaller goblin at the mumble. There was a sharp tone in his voice. “What’d you say, goblin?”

Frang snarled at Ischarus, allowing his sharp teeth to show between his blue tinted lips. Once Granknog had come into view Frang spoke loudly. “I said that it is a shame Granknog only brought the swords back. The true sacrifice contained armor, too. It is displayed in our village as a testimony to our resilience and a sacrifice to our god to keep us safe.”

Rhema stood up straight. She was intrigued by Frang’s words. Ischarus turned to look at her and could tell that she had a plan scheming in her mind. He stepped back as she stepped forward and approached the goblin. “Careful what you wish for, Frang. It could be arranged.”

Frang snarled again as Rhema threatened to touch him. “Ha! I’m not scared of your powers, witch. Granknog is a weak-minded fool. He’s sneaky, of course, but you cannot overcome my greatness with your sorcery.”

Rhema reached out with a single finger and held it a few inches away from Frang’s face. His eyes glared down his pointed nose and he watched the tip of her finger. As the finger drew near to her, he lunged forward and snapped at her finger. His razor sharp teeth caught nothing but air as Rhema dodged his attack. Before he could get out of the way, Rhema had her right hand underneath the goblin’s jaw in a firm grip. She looked deep into his eyes and the two locked in a stare down for a few seconds. No words were exchanged, but eventually Rhema smiled and pushed Frang back, releasing his jaw.

Frang glared at Rhema. “I’d think twice about doing that to a goblin that has flayed more than one of your kind, witch. If I had that suit of armor to prove it, you’d know the power that I speak of.”

Rhema smiled at Ischarus, exchanging a look with her oldest friend. As she turned her back on Frang she added, “Fine. Once Granknog has returned, we’ll exchange him for you. You can go and get that leather armor that you are so proud of. When you return, we’ll see how powerful I see you.”

A greedy look flashed through Frang’s eyes. “Done. And when I return, you shall feel the same force as the fool who was burned for the same arrogance that you now display. When I have that armor, you will see my power!”

Granknog reached the party at the same time as Frang finished speaking. His eyes shifted back and forth from Ischarus to Rhema and finally to Frang. He held the swords out menacingly, one of the tips pointed at Ischarus and one of the tips pointed at Rhema. “See? These swords are clearly not of goblin make, and they are clearly not goblin sized. And with these beautiful pieces of equipment I shall slice open your guts and expose your innards across the trail for the bear to find.”

Semeion approached from the other side of the trail, keeping an eye on Bahkahr while making Granknog chose between him and his other two targets. The maneuver was a tactical ploy to remind him that they were still unbalanced as far as numbers were concerned. “Be that as it may, Granknog, but we have arranged another deal with your associate. He seems to think that if you have the swords and he has the leather armor then we will truly be intimidated. While I likely doubt anything you or Frang could bring would intimidate us, it seems as though Frang would like an opportunity to try.”

Ischarus drew his sword out of its scabbard and used the tip of his sword to knock the blade pointed at him into the ground. Granknog was unable to keep it from hitting the ground on account of its great weight for his small frame. As the blade struck the ground, Ischarus spoke mockingly to Granknog. “And just like these two were kept safe until you returned to prove your point, you will join Bahkahr over there until Frang returns.”

Granknog shrugged and lifted the heavy blade once more off of the ground. An air of pleasure passed over the goblin’s face as the blade rose under his minimal control. “It makes no matter. Now that I have the swords, nothing can stop me. If Frang needs the armor, who cares?”

Bahkahr stood between the goblins with a dumbfounded look upon his hairy face. He raised a thick hand up to scratch his left hairy eyebrow and curled his lip on the left side of his mouth as he sucked in a deep breath. Frang looked to Granknog as he focused intently upon the blades, allowing the rest of the world pass him by. From Frang’s perspective Granknog was too impulsively self-absorbed into the blades to be of any good. “You and those blades, Granknog. Those blades will be the end of you, mark my words! But once I have the armor from the human that we burned then you shall see what true power is, fool.”

Granknog broke out of his trance to offer a snarl to Frang and then smiled subtly. “You think that you are so smart, but you’ll not be able to avoid being seen taking the armor. My skills came in much more handy in borrowing these great blades than yours will in getting you the leather.”

Frang merely smiled and mumbled again. This time the mumble was audible. “Ruinous Fool.” As he spoke he cast a quick glance to Ischarus and then looked to Rhema. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a suit of leather to retrieve. Then you will see exactly how powerful we can be.”

Rhema spit in Frang’s direction. She was careful not to hit him with it. “Go and get your precious treasure, goblin. I can hardly wait to see your false power.”

Frang almost seemed to laugh as he smirked at Rhema’s words. The goblin slipped past her just out of reach and replied to her bravado. “Oh, you will see power. You will see a power that slew the last arrogant human who met us. And like him, I will make sure that your body is burned upon our stone slab. And I will wear his leather armor as you are lit on fire!”

Rhema turned her back on Frang and let him disappear down the path. Ischarus smiled once he was out of earshot. Rhema knew the smile and she knew that Ischarus understood that she had used her power on Frang when she grabbed him by the jaw. Frang was now obsessed with the leather much like Granknog was obsessed with the blades.

She turned from Ischarus to look at the pair of goblin kin that were left. Granknog seemed oblivious to the world around him and played joyfully with the much too large pair of swords. He didn’t even seem to need to be guarded because he certainly didn’t seem to care that Ischarus was near him. Bahkahr stood by his smaller kin, fascinated by Granknog’s play with the swords. The swords would have looked natural in Bahkahr’s hands but Granknog was not about to give them up.

Charis left Semeion on the backside of the party and approached Rhema. She whispered, “Alright, I trust that you and Ischarus know what you guys are doing. But can you fill me in a bit?”

Rhema smiled and nodded to Ischarus. She stepped back and turned around so that she faced away from the goblin pair and into the undergrowth of the woods. Once Charis had turned with her she replied, “One of the powers that I possess allows me to create an obsession within someone. Once they are obsessed, so long as they are not threatened they will do anything they can to get close to and claim the objects of their desire. That is why I knew Granknog would get the swords. I also knew that if he wanted to keep them without getting into trouble he would find a way to do it without alerting the rest of his goblin clan.”

Charis smiled. “So then you did the same thing within Frang?”

Rhema nodded. “Yep. At this moment his mind should be obsessing over how he can get the leather armor away from his clan without getting caught. I only hope he is up to the task as much as Granknog apparently was.”

Chairs smiled in understanding and appreciation for Rhema’s ability to manipulate these weaker minded opponents. “But why do we want them to get it? And who is this person that they killed to get this armor?”

Rhema nodded, realizing for the first time that neither Charis nor Semeion knew about the light gray figure that she and Ischarus had met in the woods. Rhema turned to look over her shoulder and make sure that the goblins were behaving. Once she was sure that they weren’t up to anything foolish, she motioned for Charis to follow her. Together they approached Semeion and while they waited for Frang to return Rhema explained to Charis and Semeion what they had learned in the forest.

After what seemed an eternity equal to that which they had spent waiting for Granknog to return, the party finally heard Frang coming down the trail. Once he was in view, they could see that he had the leather armor in tow. He was smiling broadly from ear to ear and a greedy twinkle flashed through his eyes. As he approached the party he stepped in beside Granknog and Bahkahr. His smile vanished and his look of greed transmuted into a sly devious scowl. As best he could, he tossed the leather armor at the feet of Rhema.

Rhema looked to him, unsure of what he was doing. Granknog was only now coming out from under the effects of her charm; Frang shouldn’t want to part with the leather armor for a good while yet. She crouched down and caught the leather collar in her hand.

As she stood, Frang began to laugh and explain her smile. “I promised you power, and I promised that you would see it, human.” The goblin spoke defiantly now. Something was wrong. Semeion, Charis, and Ischarus all looked to Rhema for understanding, but Rhema had none. Her heart rate accelerated as the goblin spoke. “I give you the power that killed the human whose things we brought to you.”

The undergrowth around them began to rustle and Rhema knew what was happening. It was too late. Her eyes flashed wide with understanding as over twenty goblins emerged around them from within the undergrowth. They had been double-crossed. Her attempt to control Frang had failed and Frang had beaten her in her own game. Frang had understood from the beginning what she did to Granknog, and had used that knowledge against her!

The sound of steel rang out as every one of the goblins and their larger kin were instantly armed. Everyone, including the party, were sweating, breathing hard, and judging their opponents.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

As the goblin kin surrounded the party, each of the four thought about the best opportunity that they had for survival. Ischarus was sure that he could take three or four out before he was consumed in the goblin rage. He was even sure that Charis would be able to take a few out herself before falling prey to the onslaught. But surely Rhema and Semeion didn’t have that much staying power. Certainly they didn’t have the ability to wait that long. Given what he knew about the last man to get captured by this tribe it didn’t make sense to surrender, either.

Rhema stood quietly, waiting for Ischarus’ initial move. She knew that goblins weren’t the hardest minds to charm, but there were far too many for her to affect at once. She might be able to charm one or two before she fell, but that certainly wouldn’t help matters. There were far too many surrounding them and once she fell in battle her mind control simply wouldn’t help the others.

Semeion reached back into the recesses of his mind. He had a couple of his energy balls to toss around, but the likelihood of him even standing up to one of the larger brutes was not very good. He was sure that he could get one energy ball off, but even that one energy ball wouldn’t take down one of these goblin kin. Even if he had tried to mount Thana and ride off he was sure that this horde could overwhelm the horse before she could pull away from them.

Charis gripped her pick tightly, waiting for the first of the goblins to come near her. The odds were stacked against her and her friends, but only a few months ago she would never have guessed that she would be anything but a Provenience. She had come so far and in such an unimaginable way. There didn’t seem to be any way out of this situation, but her belief refused to lose hope. She would go down swinging hard once it came to blows.

In a split second after the goblins had appeared and weapons were drawn the battle was joined. The leader of the goblin mass screamed loudly in a blood curdling yell. The rest of the goblins raised their primitive weapons and fangs were bared. But suddenly Charis and her friends heard what could only be described as a miracle rising above them.

The goblin yell was countered by a scream of immediately unknown origin. The scream rang through the forest and sounded not too dissimilar than a satisfied jaguar that had dragged its prey up a tree and was about to settle in for a hearty meal. The sound originated directly above where Rhema was standing. Before the goblins could make good on their own verbal war cry their eyes were distracted and drawn upward to find the source of the scream.

The goblin war party was silent for a few seconds as they frantically searched the sky above them. The strange cry echoed off of the nearby hills, but except for the eerie echo the forest stood silent while the goblins searched. Ischarus and Charis both contemplated reaching out in anger and grasping the upper hand with a first attack, but both thought better of the idea. The occurrence of the scream was an odd enough coincidence that they decided that the effect it was having on the goblins shouldn’t be interrupted.

After a few seconds, a light gray image appeared above Rhema’s head. The figure floated above Rhema, the bottom of its semi-transparent cloak floating through Rhema’s head as if being blown by a non-existent wind. Clearly the image was not of this world as its clothing had no difficulty passing through Rhema’s flesh. The face of the figure seemed to writhe in pain as it looked down upon the goblins. Its hands were empty, but the bony fingers stretched out as if to be reaching intently to grasp some unknown object. It hovered above Rhema for a second and then turned towards Granknog.

The figure spoke in a shriek from beyond the grave. “Those are mine!” The light gray figure howled, making it quite apparent that the hideous scream heard a few seconds ago had originated from the same mouth. “You will return what is mine to my servants!”

At the first comment the majority of the smaller goblins simply dropped their weapons and retreated considerably. They desired to flee the horrible apparition that had come upon their conflict. They ran in fear and hoped that the old goblin adage would be true. The key to surviving was not being the slowest goblin.

At the second command of the light gray figure the larger of the goblins decided to also drop their weapons out of fear and to turn tail and run. They were able to withstand the first voice, but once the majority of their companions had fled they knew that they were the only remaining targets. Ischarus couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of a half dozen large goblin kin turning tail and vanishing loudly into the undergrowth.

Soon there were only two goblins left. Frang stood beside Granknog. Even Bahkahr had enough sense to run away. Granknog’s knees trembled as the wispy and semi-transparent light gray figure closed the distance and swooped down upon him. The figure hovered lowly over top of the short goblin. The goblin’s mouth hung open, exposing several rows of sharp teeth.

Frang spoke sharply to his goblin companion. “Drop ‘em and go, Granknog. We don’t need these anymore.” Frang bolted as soon as he had spoken.

Granknog didn’t need any other encouragement. Once Frang had turned tail and fled, Granknog was not about to stay and be the last one at the scene. The oversized blades fell from his hand and the goblin turned and vanished through the undergrowth. A soft chuckle could be heard through the air as the light gray figure seemed amused.

Charis and Semeion weren’t sure at all what to make of this latest development, but they took their cues from the much more calm Ischarus and Rhema. Semeion spoke cautiously at first. “So does somebody want to explain to me what just happened?”

Ischarus smiled, realizing that Semeion and Charis were still in the dark as to this being the figure that they had met earlier. He reached down to retrieve the weapons that Granknog had discarded. Before he could speak, however, the light gray figure settled down to the ground and pointed away from the direction the goblins had run. “We must go, and hurry. This tribe scares easy the first time, but they’ll eventually forget why they ran and realize that they had the numbers advantage. They’ll likely come back in greater numbers and with more fierce weapons. I’ll not be able to catch them off guard another time.”

Ischarus realized that the figure had pointed them in the direction that they had come from. He shook his head slowly. “I know that you want us to deliver these items, and I know that this is a significant quest for you to undertake. But we’re here on our own mission, and our destination lies to the west. We aren’t going through those mountains until we’ve paid a certain red dragon’s village a visit.”

The figure nodded, as if understanding precisely how to handle this. “Very well. It seems like the recovery of my items is not enough to release me from this world anyway. You have kept your word; I will lead you through the goblin’s land to the other side.”

Rhema smiled as she mounted Shauvry. “Well, perhaps there is a way that you can repay us for doing you this favor.”

Charis and Semeion still exchanged lost glances, realizing that they were only getting bits and pieces of the story. They knew that this was unlikely to change any time soon until they had all agreed on one plan of attack. However, since Rhema had mounted Shauvry it meant that they would be headed out shortly. They mounted Abijou and Thana respectively, content to listen and glean what they could until the whole story had been explained to them.

The light gray figure seemed to laugh and replied to Rhema, “You mean besides getting you free from a goblin war party?”

Ischarus had been waiting for that comment. “A war party that we wouldn’t have faced had we not been doing a favor for you!”

Rhema grinned even broader. As she spurred Shauvry into motion she continued, “So anyway, about this favor that you now owe us.” She laughed as Shauvry jerked into motion.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
As the goblin kin surrounded the party, each of the four thought about the best opportunity that they had for survival. Ischarus was sure that he could take three or four out before he was consumed in the goblin rage. He was even sure that Charis would be able to take a few out herself before falling prey to the onslaught. But surely Rhema and Semeion didn’t have that much staying power. Certainly they didn’t have the ability to wait that long. Given what he knew about the last man to get captured by this tribe it didn’t make sense to surrender, either.

Rhema stood quietly, waiting for Ischarus’ initial move. She knew that goblins weren’t the hardest minds to charm, but there were far too many for her to affect at once. She might be able to charm one or two before she fell, but that certainly wouldn’t help matters. There were far too many surrounding them and once she fell in battle her mind control simply wouldn’t help the others.

Semeion reached back into the recesses of his mind. He had a couple of his energy balls to toss around, but the likelihood of him even standing up to one of the larger brutes was not very good. He was sure that he could get one energy ball off, but even that one energy ball wouldn’t take down one of these goblin kin. Even if he had tried to mount Thana and ride off he was sure that this horde could overwhelm the horse before she could pull away from them.

Charis gripped her pick tightly, waiting for the first of the goblins to come near her. The odds were stacked against her and her friends, but only a few months ago she would never have guessed that she would be anything but a Provenience. She had come so far and in such an unimaginable way. There didn’t seem to be any way out of this situation, but her belief refused to lose hope. She would go down swinging hard once it came to blows.

In a split second after the goblins had appeared and weapons were drawn the battle was joined. The leader of the goblin mass screamed loudly in a blood curdling yell. The rest of the goblins raised their primitive weapons and fangs were bared. But suddenly Charis and her friends heard what could only be described as a miracle rising above them.

The goblin yell was countered by a scream of immediately unknown origin. The scream rang through the forest and sounded not too dissimilar than a satisfied jaguar that had dragged its prey up a tree and was about to settle in for a hearty meal. The sound originated directly above where Rhema was standing. Before the goblins could make good on their own verbal war cry their eyes were distracted and drawn upward to find the source of the scream.

The goblin war party was silent for a few seconds as they frantically searched the sky above them. The strange cry echoed off of the nearby hills, but except for the eerie echo the forest stood silent while the goblins searched. Ischarus and Charis both contemplated reaching out in anger and grasping the upper hand with a first attack, but both thought better of the idea. The occurrence of the scream was an odd enough coincidence that they decided that the effect it was having on the goblins shouldn’t be interrupted.

After a few seconds, a light gray image appeared above Rhema’s head. The figure floated above Rhema, the bottom of its semi-transparent cloak floating through Rhema’s head as if being blown by a non-existent wind. Clearly the image was not of this world as its clothing had no difficulty passing through Rhema’s flesh. The face of the figure seemed to writhe in pain as it looked down upon the goblins. Its hands were empty, but the bony fingers stretched out as if to be reaching intently to grasp some unknown object. It hovered above Rhema for a second and then turned towards Granknog.

The figure spoke in a shriek from beyond the grave. “Those are mine!” The light gray figure howled, making it quite apparent that the hideous scream heard a few seconds ago had originated from the same mouth. “You will return what is mine to my servants!”

At the first comment the majority of the smaller goblins simply dropped their weapons and retreated considerably. They desired to flee the horrible apparition that had come upon their conflict. They ran in fear and hoped that the old goblin adage would be true. The key to surviving was not being the slowest goblin.

At the second command of the light gray figure the larger of the goblins decided to also drop their weapons out of fear and to turn tail and run. They were able to withstand the first voice, but once the majority of their companions had fled they knew that they were the only remaining targets. Ischarus couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of a half dozen large goblin kin turning tail and vanishing loudly into the undergrowth.

Soon there were only two goblins left. Frang stood beside Granknog. Even Bahkahr had enough sense to run away. Granknog’s knees trembled as the wispy and semi-transparent light gray figure closed the distance and swooped down upon him. The figure hovered lowly over top of the short goblin. The goblin’s mouth hung open, exposing several rows of sharp teeth.

Frang spoke sharply to his goblin companion. “Drop ‘em and go, Granknog. We don’t need these anymore.” Frang bolted as soon as he had spoken.

Granknog didn’t need any other encouragement. Once Frang had turned tail and fled, Granknog was not about to stay and be the last one at the scene. The oversized blades fell from his hand and the goblin turned and vanished through the undergrowth. A soft chuckle could be heard through the air as the light gray figure seemed amused.

Charis and Semeion weren’t sure at all what to make of this latest development, but they took their cues from the much more calm Ischarus and Rhema. Semeion spoke cautiously at first. “So does somebody want to explain to me what just happened?”

Ischarus smiled, realizing that Semeion and Charis were still in the dark as to this being the figure that they had met earlier. He reached down to retrieve the weapons that Granknog had discarded. Before he could speak, however, the light gray figure settled down to the ground and pointed away from the direction the goblins had run. “We must go, and hurry. This tribe scares easy the first time, but they’ll eventually forget why they ran and realize that they had the numbers advantage. They’ll likely come back in greater numbers and with more fierce weapons. I’ll not be able to catch them off guard another time.”

Ischarus realized that the figure had pointed them in the direction that they had come from. He shook his head slowly. “I know that you want us to deliver these items, and I know that this is a significant quest for you to undertake. But we’re here on our own mission, and our destination lies to the west. We aren’t going through those mountains until we’ve paid a certain red dragon’s village a visit.”

The figure nodded, as if understanding precisely how to handle this. “Very well. It seems like the recovery of my items is not enough to release me from this world anyway. You have kept your word; I will lead you through the goblin’s land to the other side.”

Rhema smiled as she mounted Shauvry. “Well, perhaps there is a way that you can repay us for doing you this favor.”

Charis and Semeion still exchanged lost glances, realizing that they were only getting bits and pieces of the story. They knew that this was unlikely to change any time soon until they had all agreed on one plan of attack. However, since Rhema had mounted Shauvry it meant that they would be headed out shortly. They mounted Abijou and Thana respectively, content to listen and glean what they could until the whole story had been explained to them.

The light gray figure seemed to laugh and replied to Rhema, “You mean besides getting you free from a goblin war party?”

Ischarus had been waiting for that comment. “A war party that we wouldn’t have faced had we not been doing a favor for you!”

Rhema grinned even broader. As she spurred Shauvry into motion she continued, “So anyway, about this favor that you now owe us.” She laughed as Shauvry jerked into motion.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Semeion laughed as Rhema pressed the issue. He slowly shook his head, assuming that her charming personality wouldn’t work on what seemed to be a ghost. But then again, he still hadn’t gotten the whole story about who this figure was and why the swords and armor were so important. Perhaps there was more to this story than appeared on the surface.

The light gray figured seemed to will its movement into existence. The figure did not simulate walking or even swinging its arms. Rather, it merely levitated several inched off of the ground and slid itself forward into motion. Occasionally the figure would have to pass through trees, braches, and an occasional rock face. Each of these things didn’t hamper the figure in the slightest. The smaller saplings would simply pass right through it. Or, perhaps it was the figure that would simply pass right through the saplings.

In the case of the larger trees or the rock outcroppings, part or all of the entire figure would vanish for a second or two and then emerge out the other side as if nothing had happened. It took the party a bit of time to become familiar with this odd type of movement. But after traveling with the figure for several miles, their minds became immune to feeling the need to tell the figure to watch out for an upcoming tree or rock.

Rhema continued to talk to the figure about the need to help one another and exchange favors. “So you see, although we had helped you first and you likewise helped us get out of the fix we were in because of helping you in the first place, we could use a bit of a favor in return. You’re already familiar with the red wyrm Grixanthrosilithiss and his territory. Well, several months ago we interrupted his next phase toward world domination. We stole his Provenience.” Rhema pointed over her shoulder with her thumb back toward Charis.

The ghostly figure responded in shock. “You stole a Provenience? That’s simply amazing. And you escaped with your lives nonetheless! So why do you want to return to the dragon’s land?”

Rhema continued to speak to the figure. “It would seem that the dragon was not altogether pleased with our adventure. He kept what few remaining loyal servants he had and more than likely sent them into the tunnels underneath the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains in order to round up any villagers who had fled but were having difficulty navigating the mountainous tunnels. Once he had managed to regain some means for control over his remaining people and formulated a new plan for the repopulation of his Drakontai, he sent several thugs after us. They wanted nothing more than to obtain both revenge and Charis on account of her apparent treachery. During the interrogation of one of the thugs that the red wyrm sent after us, we discovered that the original plans of the wyrm are still in the process of coming to fruition. He has the means and the desire to populate an army of half-breed children to take over more land.”

Ischarus continued where Rhema left off. “Yes, and knowing the greed of the average red wyrm he’ll likely not be satisfied until he has made an entire claim on all of Quehalost. Should he ever realize even a portion of that dream it will be too late to stop him.”

The light gray figure nodded as he drifted just above the ground. “Agreed. The reason that the rest of the world continues to exist is because the flux of evil in Quehalost. Should the evil ever become organized and mount an offensive against the rest of the land all but Barghost would certainly fall quickly. Barghost would only survive long if the holy divine agents would break their code against direct interference.”

Charis looked puzzled for a moment. “Barghost? The region to the east of Tongra? They have special claim to the divine agents?” She had only heard of Barghost in passing. Even then it was only since she had left the region of Quehalost and learned a new life at the villa where she had heard mention of Barghost. Largely on account of her lack of understanding, her question had a simple tone of hurt within it.

Ischarus immediately knew the source for her confusion and hurt and began to explain and set the record straight. “In a way, Charis. That is not to say that evil does not exist in Barghost. And that is certainly not to say that terrestrial divine agents can only be found there. But Barghost is to holy what Quehalost is to evil. The only difference is that in Quehalost the evil fights against itself for control of this land. In Barghost the divine agents have a pact with the natives of the land which specifies guidance and non-direct interference. The affairs of the people in Barghost are up to them to decide. They may seek the divine for influence and guidance, but that is all.”

Charis wrinkled her eyebrows and brought up her hand to run it through her hair while she thought. “So the land of Barghost is good and holy, is that what you are telling me?”

Semeion laughed. “A more fair question to ask is if anything good can come out of Quehalost.”

Charis turned to look over her shoulder at him. She gave him an odd look of questioning as if she was trying to figure out if the question was for real or not. In reply, Semeion gestured with an open palm and returned Charis’ look with an interested expression of his own. “Well?”

Charis smiled, still a bit confused. “I am from Quehalost!”

Rhema and Ischarus chuckled audibly, amused at Charis’ slight offense at Semeion’s question. They were also amused by the way that she had phrased her reply. No doubt as Semeion had intended, Rhema had taken Semeion’s question more personally than intended. It was likely Semeion’s goal to accomplish such a stance with Charis.

The light gray figure paused as it passed through a significantly large birch tree beside the path. It allowed Rhema’s horse to pass by. As Charis’ horse passed by the same birch tree, the figure popped out of the birch tree and continued gliding along the surface of the ground. It kept pace with Charis for the time being. “I believe, madam, that you have discovered the young man’s point.”

Charis jumped out of her saddle nearly an inch as the figure startled her. She had been looking over her right shoulder, so she hadn’t noticed when he stopped on her left side and then followed her so closely. Charis could hear the chuckle of Semeion behind her and she responded to the ghostly figure with a question of her own. “He wanted me to take his question personally?”

Semeion responded in the third person regarding himself before the light gray figure could reply. “He wanted you to answer your own question. Barghost has as much of a tendency to produce citizens leaning toward holiness as Quehalost has in producing denizens leaning toward the greed and selfishness that comes from evil. But among the great evil that is known to be Quehalost you were found! You refused to be selfish and were willing to offer yourself up in sacrifice to help your people. Granted, it wouldn’t have worked, but it was the best plan that you could come up with given what you had. You’re not evil, yet you came from Quehalost!”

Charis nodded as she followed his reasoning. “So the average person in Barghost will lean to holiness. But evil is possible.”

Rhema smiled as Charis worked the logic through in her head. Ischarus replied to the conversation that was happening behind him. “In fact, I am willing to assert that when you find evil in Barghost it will be a most heinous kind. It would have to be extremely wicked to survive in Barghost without being crushed under the holiness. Much like any good that is found in Quehalost is typically quite sacred. It would have to be impressively sacred to survive the atrocious evil that exists here.”

Rhema smiled again as Ischarus spoke. He always had a way of speaking clearly while still magnifying the contrasting sides of right and wrong. She knew that Ischarus largely saw the world in white and black with little shade of gray. In this respect his religion served him well. She preferred to see shades of gray, but she respected Ischarus for the clarity of vision that he could sometimes speak towards.

Charis replied quickly to all of her mentors. “Thank you, all. Both for the …”

Suddenly a dark gray blur flashed before her eyes. It startled Charis enough that she forgot what exactly she was saying. It leapt up from the ground and knocked her from her saddle. In a moment she had her pick drawn and ready to return the attack. Another blur, this one black, leapt for Rhema and knocked her to the ground. Rhema found herself trapped under the paws of an enormous black wolf with green eyes.

Thana reared back, nearly throwing Semeion to the ground. To keep from falling, he rose to a standing position in the saddle and pressed his body against the neck of the rising horse. As Thana returned to the ground he could see that the two women had already been knocked out of their saddles and were struggling under the attack of the large wolves.

As the large wolves attacked, their ferocious snarls alerted Ischarus that trouble was brewing. He spun Elistra around and saw the beasts. In a moment, he was out of his own saddle. His weapon was in his hand as his feet hit the ground. He strode toward the wolf that had pinned Rhema to the ground and he heard the creature speak.

The wolf was apparently addressing Ischarus. “Come no further or she dies feeling my teeth ripping out her neck.” The black wolf’s head turned to face Ischarus and he felt himself caught momentarily by the eerily glowing green eyes.

Semeion took no notice of the monstrous wolf’s warning as it spoke to Ischarus. Instantly he conjured up the words he longed to use and then spoke them with authority now that Thana had settled beneath him. “Thin-tok.” The words passed through his lips easily, and as the bright blue energy cascaded across his fingers he sent the charged ball directly into the side of the beast. The black haired wolf yelped slightly, but it maintained his position over Rhema.

Ischarus let out a low growl. At the end of his growl he smiled and muttered some magical words of his own. “Ahthach-gat” As he pointed a finger at the wolf standing atop Rhema, a murky haze developed over the creature. The wolf appeared to grow weaker as the haze was absorbed into its body. When the haze had done its work, the creature still appeared ferocious, but much less able to put any hurt on Rhema.

Even though she was pinned, Rhema knew that she did not need her hands to work her best attack. She focused on the wolf as it recovered from Ischarus’ murky haze. Suddenly the large wolf let out another yelp. It had been attacked by a sharp force coming from beneath it, yet the wolf knew that it had Rhema trapped. The creature looked down at Rhema as if surprised to find that she was still largely pinned underneath him. Her hands had not produced the attack of force that he felt.

The wolf returned Rhema’s attack with one of its own. As it attempted to strike the woman pinned underneath it, the wolf found that Ischarus’ attack had reduced its ability to fight significantly. Its teeth sunk into Rhema’s shoulder area but it was unable to bite hard enough to penetrate her clothing. The beast released its bite and made a licking motion as if to remove fabric fibers from its tongue and mouth.

Semeion drew out one of his daggers, knowing that to throw it now would not in turn arm the enemy. From on top of Thana he released the dagger. It sailed through the air but missed the wolf completely as it flew too high. Semeion turned to see how Charis was fairing with the other wolf.

As Semeion turned, Ischarus continued his assault on the creature on top of Rhema. He noticed that on account of his weakening spell the wolf had trouble attacking as it had planned. With the immediate fear of life-ending danger slightly removed, Ischarus didn’t think twice about finishing his approach. His steel blade sliced through the air with a dramatic rush and the wolf yelped out in pain as steel cut through its thick coat and into its flesh. As Ischarus lifted his blade back into the air for another swing he noticed that the blade had been significantly bloodied.

Rhema took advantage once more of the strike from Ischarus and focused her mental powers upon the beast. Again the wolf yelped out in pain as a surprise attack came from below. Rhema was gratified that she had been able to take the wolf by surprise twice now. She hoped that perhaps her tactics would spook the beast.

The green eyed wolf knew that it was quickly losing its ability to stay on top of the fight. For that matter, it was struggling to simply stay on top of Rhema. It leapt into the air off of Rhema. In a moment it was gone. The only thing that remained was a crashing sound passing through the undergrowth. Once it had gone several paces, Ischarus and Rhema both heard it call back to its partner in a speech unknown to either of them. The call was followed by a quick howl.

As the fight over Rhema was going well, Charis found herself in a single duel against the gray haired wolf that had knocked her out of her own saddle. This wolf’s eyes glowed green as had the other wolf’s eyes. At the beast’s approach Abijou wisely retreated to a much safer distance. Charis stepped toward the wolf and connected with a solid blow. The pointed end of her pick struggled to find its way through the thick mat of fur, but the solid blow had been landed nonetheless.

As Charis swung her arms, the wolf sprang forward and snapped hard at Rhema. The creature’s powerful jaws snapped shut and found nothing but air. Charis had watched the attack coming and knew that she had to move her forearm out of harm’s way. It was only a split second difference between safety and a bloodied forearm. Fortunately, her reflexes were still good. The only damage that she found herself in was a slight spray of the creature’s spit as the jaws closed empty.

Charis struck out another blow, but this time the wolf ducked low. As Charis twisted with the motion of the pick the wolf returned the blow with a strike at her thigh. The powerful jaws of the beast found home this time. Charis watched as the beast’s teeth bloodied her leg. The creature seemed spurred on by the taste of blood until it heard the help and call from its partner. As the other wolf bounded off and howled, the remaining creature licked its lips and turned to Charis. “I’ve tasted your blood, Drakontos. I know you’re not human and I promise you that I’ll be back to finish the meal. Drakontos is some of my favorite flesh.”

Having finished its thought, the creature followed its partner and leapt into the woods to find its companion. Once the threat had vanished, Semeion turned to Charis and asked, “Did it know you?”

Charis shook her head, not knowing the proper answer. She was just as confused as he was. A few feet away from Semeion and Charis, Ischarus sheathed his sword and helped Rhema to her feet. He turned her around and brushed grass and dirt off of the back of her traveling cloak.

The ghostly figure spoke so that all could hear him. “Froves. They were big, mean, and nasty froves. They are used by goblins to track their enemies. The fact that we were caught by them means that the goblins are already in pursuit. Their tactics were to delay us and I’ve seen this before. You’ll note that the tactics worked. We have been delayed already. With any luck the smaller goblins won’t be riding atop the backs of other froves as mounts. If we are unlucky, well, you all better move pretty quickly.” The light gray figure had a worried look upon its face.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion laughed as Rhema pressed the issue. He slowly shook his head, assuming that her charming personality wouldn’t work on what seemed to be a ghost. But then again, he still hadn’t gotten the whole story about who this figure was and why the swords and armor were so important. Perhaps there was more to this story than appeared on the surface.

The light gray figured seemed to will its movement into existence. The figure did not simulate walking or even swinging its arms. Rather, it merely levitated several inched off of the ground and slid itself forward into motion. Occasionally the figure would have to pass through trees, braches, and an occasional rock face. Each of these things didn’t hamper the figure in the slightest. The smaller saplings would simply pass right through it. Or, perhaps it was the figure that would simply pass right through the saplings.

In the case of the larger trees or the rock outcroppings, part or all of the entire figure would vanish for a second or two and then emerge out the other side as if nothing had happened. It took the party a bit of time to become familiar with this odd type of movement. But after traveling with the figure for several miles, their minds became immune to feeling the need to tell the figure to watch out for an upcoming tree or rock.

Rhema continued to talk to the figure about the need to help one another and exchange favors. “So you see, although we had helped you first and you likewise helped us get out of the fix we were in because of helping you in the first place, we could use a bit of a favor in return. You’re already familiar with the red wyrm Grixanthrosilithiss and his territory. Well, several months ago we interrupted his next phase toward world domination. We stole his Provenience.” Rhema pointed over her shoulder with her thumb back toward Charis.

The ghostly figure responded in shock. “You stole a Provenience? That’s simply amazing. And you escaped with your lives nonetheless! So why do you want to return to the dragon’s land?”

Rhema continued to speak to the figure. “It would seem that the dragon was not altogether pleased with our adventure. He kept what few remaining loyal servants he had and more than likely sent them into the tunnels underneath the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains in order to round up any villagers who had fled but were having difficulty navigating the mountainous tunnels. Once he had managed to regain some means for control over his remaining people and formulated a new plan for the repopulation of his Drakontai, he sent several thugs after us. They wanted nothing more than to obtain both revenge and Charis on account of her apparent treachery. During the interrogation of one of the thugs that the red wyrm sent after us, we discovered that the original plans of the wyrm are still in the process of coming to fruition. He has the means and the desire to populate an army of half-breed children to take over more land.”

Ischarus continued where Rhema left off. “Yes, and knowing the greed of the average red wyrm he’ll likely not be satisfied until he has made an entire claim on all of Quehalost. Should he ever realize even a portion of that dream it will be too late to stop him.”

The light gray figure nodded as he drifted just above the ground. “Agreed. The reason that the rest of the world continues to exist is because the flux of evil in Quehalost. Should the evil ever become organized and mount an offensive against the rest of the land all but Barghost would certainly fall quickly. Barghost would only survive long if the holy divine agents would break their code against direct interference.”

Charis looked puzzled for a moment. “Barghost? The region to the east of Tongra? They have special claim to the divine agents?” She had only heard of Barghost in passing. Even then it was only since she had left the region of Quehalost and learned a new life at the villa where she had heard mention of Barghost. Largely on account of her lack of understanding, her question had a simple tone of hurt within it.

Ischarus immediately knew the source for her confusion and hurt and began to explain and set the record straight. “In a way, Charis. That is not to say that evil does not exist in Barghost. And that is certainly not to say that terrestrial divine agents can only be found there. But Barghost is to holy what Quehalost is to evil. The only difference is that in Quehalost the evil fights against itself for control of this land. In Barghost the divine agents have a pact with the natives of the land which specifies guidance and non-direct interference. The affairs of the people in Barghost are up to them to decide. They may seek the divine for influence and guidance, but that is all.”

Charis wrinkled her eyebrows and brought up her hand to run it through her hair while she thought. “So the land of Barghost is good and holy, is that what you are telling me?”

Semeion laughed. “A more fair question to ask is if anything good can come out of Quehalost.”

Charis turned to look over her shoulder at him. She gave him an odd look of questioning as if she was trying to figure out if the question was for real or not. In reply, Semeion gestured with an open palm and returned Charis’ look with an interested expression of his own. “Well?”

Charis smiled, still a bit confused. “I am from Quehalost!”

Rhema and Ischarus chuckled audibly, amused at Charis’ slight offense at Semeion’s question. They were also amused by the way that she had phrased her reply. No doubt as Semeion had intended, Rhema had taken Semeion’s question more personally than intended. It was likely Semeion’s goal to accomplish such a stance with Charis.

The light gray figure paused as it passed through a significantly large birch tree beside the path. It allowed Rhema’s horse to pass by. As Charis’ horse passed by the same birch tree, the figure popped out of the birch tree and continued gliding along the surface of the ground. It kept pace with Charis for the time being. “I believe, madam, that you have discovered the young man’s point.”

Charis jumped out of her saddle nearly an inch as the figure startled her. She had been looking over her right shoulder, so she hadn’t noticed when he stopped on her left side and then followed her so closely. Charis could hear the chuckle of Semeion behind her and she responded to the ghostly figure with a question of her own. “He wanted me to take his question personally?”

Semeion responded in the third person regarding himself before the light gray figure could reply. “He wanted you to answer your own question. Barghost has as much of a tendency to produce citizens leaning toward holiness as Quehalost has in producing denizens leaning toward the greed and selfishness that comes from evil. But among the great evil that is known to be Quehalost you were found! You refused to be selfish and were willing to offer yourself up in sacrifice to help your people. Granted, it wouldn’t have worked, but it was the best plan that you could come up with given what you had. You’re not evil, yet you came from Quehalost!”

Charis nodded as she followed his reasoning. “So the average person in Barghost will lean to holiness. But evil is possible.”

Rhema smiled as Charis worked the logic through in her head. Ischarus replied to the conversation that was happening behind him. “In fact, I am willing to assert that when you find evil in Barghost it will be a most heinous kind. It would have to be extremely wicked to survive in Barghost without being crushed under the holiness. Much like any good that is found in Quehalost is typically quite sacred. It would have to be impressively sacred to survive the atrocious evil that exists here.”

Rhema smiled again as Ischarus spoke. He always had a way of speaking clearly while still magnifying the contrasting sides of right and wrong. She knew that Ischarus largely saw the world in white and black with little shade of gray. In this respect his religion served him well. She preferred to see shades of gray, but she respected Ischarus for the clarity of vision that he could sometimes speak towards.

Charis replied quickly to all of her mentors. “Thank you, all. Both for the …”

Suddenly a dark gray blur flashed before her eyes. It startled Charis enough that she forgot what exactly she was saying. It leapt up from the ground and knocked her from her saddle. In a moment she had her pick drawn and ready to return the attack. Another blur, this one black, leapt for Rhema and knocked her to the ground. Rhema found herself trapped under the paws of an enormous black wolf with green eyes.

Thana reared back, nearly throwing Semeion to the ground. To keep from falling, he rose to a standing position in the saddle and pressed his body against the neck of the rising horse. As Thana returned to the ground he could see that the two women had already been knocked out of their saddles and were struggling under the attack of the large wolves.

As the large wolves attacked, their ferocious snarls alerted Ischarus that trouble was brewing. He spun Elistra around and saw the beasts. In a moment, he was out of his own saddle. His weapon was in his hand as his feet hit the ground. He strode toward the wolf that had pinned Rhema to the ground and he heard the creature speak.

The wolf was apparently addressing Ischarus. “Come no further or she dies feeling my teeth ripping out her neck.” The black wolf’s head turned to face Ischarus and he felt himself caught momentarily by the eerily glowing green eyes.

Semeion took no notice of the monstrous wolf’s warning as it spoke to Ischarus. Instantly he conjured up the words he longed to use and then spoke them with authority now that Thana had settled beneath him. “Thin-tok.” The words passed through his lips easily, and as the bright blue energy cascaded across his fingers he sent the charged ball directly into the side of the beast. The black haired wolf yelped slightly, but it maintained his position over Rhema.

Ischarus let out a low growl. At the end of his growl he smiled and muttered some magical words of his own. “Ahthach-gat” As he pointed a finger at the wolf standing atop Rhema, a murky haze developed over the creature. The wolf appeared to grow weaker as the haze was absorbed into its body. When the haze had done its work, the creature still appeared ferocious, but much less able to put any hurt on Rhema.

Even though she was pinned, Rhema knew that she did not need her hands to work her best attack. She focused on the wolf as it recovered from Ischarus’ murky haze. Suddenly the large wolf let out another yelp. It had been attacked by a sharp force coming from beneath it, yet the wolf knew that it had Rhema trapped. The creature looked down at Rhema as if surprised to find that she was still largely pinned underneath him. Her hands had not produced the attack of force that he felt.

The wolf returned Rhema’s attack with one of its own. As it attempted to strike the woman pinned underneath it, the wolf found that Ischarus’ attack had reduced its ability to fight significantly. Its teeth sunk into Rhema’s shoulder area but it was unable to bite hard enough to penetrate her clothing. The beast released its bite and made a licking motion as if to remove fabric fibers from its tongue and mouth.

Semeion drew out one of his daggers, knowing that to throw it now would not in turn arm the enemy. From on top of Thana he released the dagger. It sailed through the air but missed the wolf completely as it flew too high. Semeion turned to see how Charis was fairing with the other wolf.

As Semeion turned, Ischarus continued his assault on the creature on top of Rhema. He noticed that on account of his weakening spell the wolf had trouble attacking as it had planned. With the immediate fear of life-ending danger slightly removed, Ischarus didn’t think twice about finishing his approach. His steel blade sliced through the air with a dramatic rush and the wolf yelped out in pain as steel cut through its thick coat and into its flesh. As Ischarus lifted his blade back into the air for another swing he noticed that the blade had been significantly bloodied.

Rhema took advantage once more of the strike from Ischarus and focused her mental powers upon the beast. Again the wolf yelped out in pain as a surprise attack came from below. Rhema was gratified that she had been able to take the wolf by surprise twice now. She hoped that perhaps her tactics would spook the beast.

The green eyed wolf knew that it was quickly losing its ability to stay on top of the fight. For that matter, it was struggling to simply stay on top of Rhema. It leapt into the air off of Rhema. In a moment it was gone. The only thing that remained was a crashing sound passing through the undergrowth. Once it had gone several paces, Ischarus and Rhema both heard it call back to its partner in a speech unknown to either of them. The call was followed by a quick howl.

As the fight over Rhema was going well, Charis found herself in a single duel against the gray haired wolf that had knocked her out of her own saddle. This wolf’s eyes glowed green as had the other wolf’s eyes. At the beast’s approach Abijou wisely retreated to a much safer distance. Charis stepped toward the wolf and connected with a solid blow. The pointed end of her pick struggled to find its way through the thick mat of fur, but the solid blow had been landed nonetheless.

As Charis swung her arms, the wolf sprang forward and snapped hard at Rhema. The creature’s powerful jaws snapped shut and found nothing but air. Charis had watched the attack coming and knew that she had to move her forearm out of harm’s way. It was only a split second difference between safety and a bloodied forearm. Fortunately, her reflexes were still good. The only damage that she found herself in was a slight spray of the creature’s spit as the jaws closed empty.

Charis struck out another blow, but this time the wolf ducked low. As Charis twisted with the motion of the pick the wolf returned the blow with a strike at her thigh. The powerful jaws of the beast found home this time. Charis watched as the beast’s teeth bloodied her leg. The creature seemed spurred on by the taste of blood until it heard the help and call from its partner. As the other wolf bounded off and howled, the remaining creature licked its lips and turned to Charis. “I’ve tasted your blood, Drakontos. I know you’re not human and I promise you that I’ll be back to finish the meal. Drakontos is some of my favorite flesh.”

Having finished its thought, the creature followed its partner and leapt into the woods to find its companion. Once the threat had vanished, Semeion turned to Charis and asked, “Did it know you?”

Charis shook her head, not knowing the proper answer. She was just as confused as he was. A few feet away from Semeion and Charis, Ischarus sheathed his sword and helped Rhema to her feet. He turned her around and brushed grass and dirt off of the back of her traveling cloak.

The ghostly figure spoke so that all could hear him. “Froves. They were big, mean, and nasty froves. They are used by goblins to track their enemies. The fact that we were caught by them means that the goblins are already in pursuit. Their tactics were to delay us and I’ve seen this before. You’ll note that the tactics worked. We have been delayed already. With any luck the smaller goblins won’t be riding atop the backs of other froves as mounts. If we are unlucky, well, you all better move pretty quickly.” The light gray figure had a worried look upon its face.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

As soon as the light-gray figure had spoken his omen, a howl echoed in the distance. This echo had come from a slightly different direction than the area that the pair of froves had retreated to. Another howl rang out after the first one had ended. This second howl came from the same direction as the most recent one.

Charis looked to the ghostly figure and couldn’t help but confirm what she already knew. “More froves?”

Ischarus nodded, spinning Elistra around to the direction he wanted to travel. “Rhema, Semeion! Ride at the front and ride hard. Charis and I will follow behind you and protect your rear flank.”

Ischarus pulled slightly on the reigns and Elistra edged off the trail. Rhema spurred Shauvry into motion and Semeion spurred Thana behind her. As both these riders sprang forth into movement and brushed past Elistra, Ischarus motioned for Charis to go next. “I’ll go last. Hurry!”

The gray figure looked at Ischarus. “You know those howls?”

Ischarus smiled, and looked at the back of Charis. His foot dug hard into the stirrup and then shot back into Elistra’s side. The kick jolted his horse into movement. The gray figure matched Ischarus’ pace and followed along as Ischarus replied to his inquiry. “I don’t need to know those howls. I know enough about wolves back home to recognize the call of the pack. That’s what the two did when they retreated from our attack. They were calling the pack and my guess is that this was the pack answering.”

The figure nodded as it continued to slide effortlessly above the ground. “I fear you are correct. I have heard those howls many times, and I believe they mean exactly what you say.”

Ischarus ducked under a low branch as he continued the conversation. “If that is the case, those howls were not far off. The pack is not far from closing in on our position.”

Ischarus dug in again and urged Elistra into greater speed. As he did, he heard the yelping of exited dogs running in motion as they closed in on the foursome of horses. Over top of the excited yelps Ischarus heard a voice calling out excitedly.

Ischarus stood in his saddle and yelled to the riders ahead of him with all of his strength. “Hunting wolves closing!” It was all Ischarus could get out of his mouth before he heard a crash of flesh through the forest behind him.

A snarl erupted in sound from behind him on the path. Ischarus could hear the snapping of a single jaw. Soon there was another crash of underbrush and an excited yelp. He thought he heard a similar voice as the one that had come from the frove that pinned Rhema to the ground. This voice spoke in a language Ischarus did not understand. The voice was answered by one of a much higher pitch.

This voice Ischarus recognized immediately even without turning to see it. It was a goblin riding atop what he could only expect to be a frove. By his count, there were two froves and a goblin behind. Given their speed at closing in on the charging horses he knew that the froves were faster than the horses. Running was less and less becoming an option.

His mind calculated the risks of fighting or being picked off one by one from the back. Again he rose in his saddle and yelled loudly. “Fight!” Once Ischarus had yelled, he leaned hard on the reigns and turned Elistra around to face his pursuers. As he went through the motions he noticed that he was wrong. There was not just one goblin rider. Each of the froves had a rider.

The nearest frove stopped short upon seeing Ischarus turn to face him. As the frove planted its front feet, the goblin that was riding atop of was caught completely by surprise and it flew forward and planted itself headfirst into the side of Elistra. The frove lunged forward in a bite, but Ischarus immediately turned it astray with the flat of his blade.

The goblin that was still mounted upon a frove reached behind its back and brought forth and arrow. The goblin snapped the arrow into place and sent it forward toward Ischarus. From atop his horse, Ischarus ducked behind his shield and the arrow bounced off harmlessly.

While Ischarus was drawing the ire of the pursuers, Charis spun Abijou around and charged back toward Ischarus. She unfastened her pick from her belt and raised the weapon in a windmill strike. Back on Rhema’s father’s villa she had been taught a game played with a ball while being mounted in the saddle. This would be little different if she timed it right. Her goal was the goblin now lying at Elistra’s feet. Unfortunately for Charis, the pick sailed high and missed the creature on account of the goblin’s short stature.

Rhema had also heard Ischarus call. She spun Shauvry around and smirked as she watched her friends peel around launch into attacking formation. She called forth her mental powers once more, although this time her goal wasn’t to harm the goblin mind she had entered. She didn’t even desire to create an obsession like she had done with the goblins before. “Look at me!” Rhema commanded the fallen goblin that Charis had just missed with her hammer. The goblin’s head snapped around on its shoulders and looked back at Rhema. The expression on its face told Rhema all she needed to know. “Charis, move on to a frove! The goblin is mine!” She turned her head to regain focus on the goblin. “Come to me!” The goblin hesitated, and then slowly walked towards Shauvry.

The frove that still maintained its rider snarled, and its lips parted in speech. Neither Ischarus nor Charis understood the speech, but the goblin on top replied with its own voice in the same unfamiliar language. The goblin slid off of the frove’s back and the frove leapt forward into action. The beast sprang forward in an attempt to unhorse Ischarus. The valiant fighter used his sword as a lever and deflected the frove to the ground. The frove landed awkwardly on its back and exposed its more vulnerable belly to Ischarus.

Semeion pulled back hard on the reigns and caused Thana to rise up onto her hind legs. As the horse rose up, Semeion also stood in the saddle and surveyed the battlefield. He spotted a legitimate target. He had used enough of his magic already today that he was averse to waste a spell unless it was necessary. As the horse returned to the ground, Semeion dug into his stirrups and called Thana to charge. “Hiya!”

He had spotted a narrow opening between Charis and Ischarus and planned to charge through the gap on top of Thana. As the horse broke into its move, the frove that had first attacked Ischarus managed to slip out of the way of the charging mount. The goblin that had fired an arrow upon Ischarus couldn’t get out of the way. The horse kicked hard at the goblin as it passed by. The solid hooves struck the goblin twice. One blow came from each front foot. The goblin was bloodied and fell face first into the underbrush. It didn’t move once it came to rest.

Ischarus smiled as Semeion used his mount to charge into action. He looked down upon the frove that had tried to unhorse him as the beast struggled to right itself from its bad fall. His sword slipped through the air, but the frove was able to twist out of the way.

The other frove turned and faced Charis. She had been shifting Elistra into position for a strike. The frove lunged up and bit at Charis’ foot but missed. Instead the frove caught the bottom of Charis’ boot upon its jaw. Charis returned the strike and managed to hit the frove with her pick before it could leap out of the way.

The frove gathered itself from the attack and leapt up again. This time the green eyed beast caught Charis on her leg. Red blood stained the maw of the frove and Charis’ stirrup dripped with blood. The bite attack had been worse that what Charis had hoped would happen and as she dug her foot into Abijou’s side a bloody print of her calf and foot was left on the abdomen of the horse.

Despite the frove’s attempt to drag her from the saddle, Charis twisted her pick in her hand and stuck again in anger. Her blow drove the frove back to the ground, knocking it below Abijou’s feet. As the frove fell to the ground it dipped and twisted through Abijou’s steps as it avoided being tread upon and trampled to death. It was clear that this frove was experienced at fighting enemies from atop horses.

Semeion noticed that the fight was touch and go between Charis and the frove. He spun Thana around and charged back alongside Charis. He was careful to avoid her striking lanes as he rode by Abijou. He let out a cheer as he rode along, alerting Charis that he was coming up behind her. The frove managed to partially dodge Thana’s charge, although it was struck by one of Thana’s hooves. Thana’s nostril’s flared as Semeion spun her around for another trampling run. It seemed as though the horse was enjoying beating the froves with its mighty hooves.

The frove leapt up once more against Charis, but Charis took this attack much more seriously than the last one. When the attack was over, the frove had a bloody impression of the bottom of Charis’ stirrup plastered across his nose. Charis returned the strike and caught the frove behind its right front shoulder with the point of her pick. The frove yelped in a bit of a howl and backed up to survey the battlefield. As Semeion looked on, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the goblins that were in charge of the froves or if the froves were the real brains behind the goblin tribe.

What the frove saw when it surveyed the battlefield was the effects of several blows traded from Ischarus and the other frove. After Iscahrus missed the frove’s exposed underbelly, the frove rose to the ground and leapt once more trying to unhorse the rider. Ischarus deftly spun Elistra around as the frove leapt and cause the frove to slam into the much more sturdy neck of Elistra. The frove tumbled back to the ground and Ischarus followed the blow from Elistra’s muscular neck with one of his own. His sword cut through the frove’s hair and a thin trail of blood appeared across the frove’s back.

The frove who was attacking Ischarus refused to give up and attacked again. This time the frove connected and caught hold of Ischarus’ forearm just above where his shield protected him. As the frove fell back to the ground, it clenched its teeth firmly in an attempt to unhorse Ischarus. Ischarus yanked back, freeing his arm from the bloody maw of the frove. The green eyed beast fell back to the ground and left a bloodied forearm behind in its wake. Ischarus turned Elistra around so that the frove was again on his sword side. Unfortunately his follow-up attack missed the frove high.

The frove leapt up again, staying on the sword side of Ischarus. The jaw of the frove found nothing except the solid metal butt end of Ischarus’ hilt of his sword. Ischarus quickly swung the sword down and caught the frove as he fell back to the ground. Another trail of blood appeared within the thick mat of fur protecting the frove. This cut was along his side.

The frove snarled at Ischarus and prepared to strike again. As it crouched in a ready stance to attack, the frove that had been attacking Charis called out to it in its foreign tongue. The frove looked to its left and saw that Semeion starting to charge again with Thana. The frove jumped backwards out of Semeion’s path and looked up into Ischarus’ eyes. As Ischarus returned the glare to the glowing green orbs of the frove, the beast spoke to him. “We will wear you down until there is nothing left, Drakontos. I have tasted your blood; I will eventually feast on your flesh.”

The froves turned and leapt back into the undergrowth of the forest. Charis turned in the saddle to look at Rhema. She stood in her saddle and was watching the proceeding with a very obedient goblin standing to her left. Rhema’s face showed a smile as she looked upon her friends. She looked down at the goblin and spoke softly and gently. “See, Rashaak? I told you that your forces would not be victorious. But I also told you that your forces would be spared in spite of the attack that you brought on us. We didn’t ask to be attacked. You attacked us. But to show you our true greatness, we will care for your wounded. Watch.”

Rhema nodded to Ischarus firmly and smiled. Ischarus picked up where Rhema had left off. “Charis, check on the goblin that Thana knocked into the forest. I’ll watch your back and make sure Abijou is safe.”

Charis gave Ischarus a quick glance and the look questioned if this is an appropriate time to stop and care for the goblin. She knew the enemy’s main force couldn’t be far. Ischarus gave his head a quick and hardly noticeable jerk in Rashaak’s direction. Charis nodded, dismounted, and moved quickly to where the goblin had been knocked into the woods. She dragged the goblin’s body back to among the company and checked his vital signs. She applied pressure to some of his wounds and ensuring that the bleeding has stopped. She quickly stood up and gave her report. “He’s unconscious, but will live. He’ll have a mighty headache when he wakes, but he’ll get better.”

Rhema smiled again, showing her extreme composure at a time when seconds meant everything. “Rashaak, look at me.” The goblin looked up at Rhema upon her horse. “As I have promised. He’ll live. Now stand here and wait for the hunting party to find you. Tell them that we intentionally did not kill any of your village. Tell them that we are merely moving through your territory and are not worth your effort.”

Rashaak nodded. He was enraptured by Rhema’s mind control over him. Rhema carefully backed up to avoid threatening Rashaak with Shauvry’s hooves. Once Semeion had passed by both Charis and Ischarus, Rhema spurred Shauvry into motion and continued along the trail. This time, she took the lead. Semeion followed atop of Thana and saluted Rashaak as he passed by. Charis followed behind Semeion and as she looked at the tiny, charmed, and confused goblin she couldn’t help but give a pleasant smile and a wink to the goblin. As Ischarus followed in the rear position, he stowed his sword in its scabbard and patted the hilt as he rode by Rashaak. Even the light gray figure took a part in the act as it passed by Rashaak and maintained eye contact until he passed directly through a tree.

The company surged forward through the trees, hoping to outrun the goblins and get out of their territory. Of course, nobody knew better than Charis that the owner of the next territory would likely not be any more forgiving.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
As soon as the light-gray figure had spoken his omen, a howl echoed in the distance. This echo had come from a slightly different direction than the area that the pair of froves had retreated to. Another howl rang out after the first one had ended. This second howl came from the same direction as the most recent one.

Charis looked to the ghostly figure and couldn’t help but confirm what she already knew. “More froves?”

Ischarus nodded, spinning Elistra around to the direction he wanted to travel. “Rhema, Semeion! Ride at the front and ride hard. Charis and I will follow behind you and protect your rear flank.”

Ischarus pulled slightly on the reigns and Elistra edged off the trail. Rhema spurred Shauvry into motion and Semeion spurred Thana behind her. As both these riders sprang forth into movement and brushed past Elistra, Ischarus motioned for Charis to go next. “I’ll go last. Hurry!”

The gray figure looked at Ischarus. “You know those howls?”

Ischarus smiled, and looked at the back of Charis. His foot dug hard into the stirrup and then shot back into Elistra’s side. The kick jolted his horse into movement. The gray figure matched Ischarus’ pace and followed along as Ischarus replied to his inquiry. “I don’t need to know those howls. I know enough about wolves back home to recognize the call of the pack. That’s what the two did when they retreated from our attack. They were calling the pack and my guess is that this was the pack answering.”

The figure nodded as it continued to slide effortlessly above the ground. “I fear you are correct. I have heard those howls many times, and I believe they mean exactly what you say.”

Ischarus ducked under a low branch as he continued the conversation. “If that is the case, those howls were not far off. The pack is not far from closing in on our position.”

Ischarus dug in again and urged Elistra into greater speed. As he did, he heard the yelping of exited dogs running in motion as they closed in on the foursome of horses. Over top of the excited yelps Ischarus heard a voice calling out excitedly.

Ischarus stood in his saddle and yelled to the riders ahead of him with all of his strength. “Hunting wolves closing!” It was all Ischarus could get out of his mouth before he heard a crash of flesh through the forest behind him.

A snarl erupted in sound from behind him on the path. Ischarus could hear the snapping of a single jaw. Soon there was another crash of underbrush and an excited yelp. He thought he heard a similar voice as the one that had come from the frove that pinned Rhema to the ground. This voice spoke in a language Ischarus did not understand. The voice was answered by one of a much higher pitch.

This voice Ischarus recognized immediately even without turning to see it. It was a goblin riding atop what he could only expect to be a frove. By his count, there were two froves and a goblin behind. Given their speed at closing in on the charging horses he knew that the froves were faster than the horses. Running was less and less becoming an option.

His mind calculated the risks of fighting or being picked off one by one from the back. Again he rose in his saddle and yelled loudly. “Fight!” Once Ischarus had yelled, he leaned hard on the reigns and turned Elistra around to face his pursuers. As he went through the motions he noticed that he was wrong. There was not just one goblin rider. Each of the froves had a rider.

The nearest frove stopped short upon seeing Ischarus turn to face him. As the frove planted its front feet, the goblin that was riding atop of was caught completely by surprise and it flew forward and planted itself headfirst into the side of Elistra. The frove lunged forward in a bite, but Ischarus immediately turned it astray with the flat of his blade.

The goblin that was still mounted upon a frove reached behind its back and brought forth and arrow. The goblin snapped the arrow into place and sent it forward toward Ischarus. From atop his horse, Ischarus ducked behind his shield and the arrow bounced off harmlessly.

While Ischarus was drawing the ire of the pursuers, Charis spun Abijou around and charged back toward Ischarus. She unfastened her pick from her belt and raised the weapon in a windmill strike. Back on Rhema’s father’s villa she had been taught a game played with a ball while being mounted in the saddle. This would be little different if she timed it right. Her goal was the goblin now lying at Elistra’s feet. Unfortunately for Charis, the pick sailed high and missed the creature on account of the goblin’s short stature.

Rhema had also heard Ischarus call. She spun Shauvry around and smirked as she watched her friends peel around launch into attacking formation. She called forth her mental powers once more, although this time her goal wasn’t to harm the goblin mind she had entered. She didn’t even desire to create an obsession like she had done with the goblins before. “Look at me!” Rhema commanded the fallen goblin that Charis had just missed with her hammer. The goblin’s head snapped around on its shoulders and looked back at Rhema. The expression on its face told Rhema all she needed to know. “Charis, move on to a frove! The goblin is mine!” She turned her head to regain focus on the goblin. “Come to me!” The goblin hesitated, and then slowly walked towards Shauvry.

The frove that still maintained its rider snarled, and its lips parted in speech. Neither Ischarus nor Charis understood the speech, but the goblin on top replied with its own voice in the same unfamiliar language. The goblin slid off of the frove’s back and the frove leapt forward into action. The beast sprang forward in an attempt to unhorse Ischarus. The valiant fighter used his sword as a lever and deflected the frove to the ground. The frove landed awkwardly on its back and exposed its more vulnerable belly to Ischarus.

Semeion pulled back hard on the reigns and caused Thana to rise up onto her hind legs. As the horse rose up, Semeion also stood in the saddle and surveyed the battlefield. He spotted a legitimate target. He had used enough of his magic already today that he was averse to waste a spell unless it was necessary. As the horse returned to the ground, Semeion dug into his stirrups and called Thana to charge. “Hiya!”

He had spotted a narrow opening between Charis and Ischarus and planned to charge through the gap on top of Thana. As the horse broke into its move, the frove that had first attacked Ischarus managed to slip out of the way of the charging mount. The goblin that had fired an arrow upon Ischarus couldn’t get out of the way. The horse kicked hard at the goblin as it passed by. The solid hooves struck the goblin twice. One blow came from each front foot. The goblin was bloodied and fell face first into the underbrush. It didn’t move once it came to rest.

Ischarus smiled as Semeion used his mount to charge into action. He looked down upon the frove that had tried to unhorse him as the beast struggled to right itself from its bad fall. His sword slipped through the air, but the frove was able to twist out of the way.

The other frove turned and faced Charis. She had been shifting Elistra into position for a strike. The frove lunged up and bit at Charis’ foot but missed. Instead the frove caught the bottom of Charis’ boot upon its jaw. Charis returned the strike and managed to hit the frove with her pick before it could leap out of the way.

The frove gathered itself from the attack and leapt up again. This time the green eyed beast caught Charis on her leg. Red blood stained the maw of the frove and Charis’ stirrup dripped with blood. The bite attack had been worse that what Charis had hoped would happen and as she dug her foot into Abijou’s side a bloody print of her calf and foot was left on the abdomen of the horse.

Despite the frove’s attempt to drag her from the saddle, Charis twisted her pick in her hand and stuck again in anger. Her blow drove the frove back to the ground, knocking it below Abijou’s feet. As the frove fell to the ground it dipped and twisted through Abijou’s steps as it avoided being tread upon and trampled to death. It was clear that this frove was experienced at fighting enemies from atop horses.

Semeion noticed that the fight was touch and go between Charis and the frove. He spun Thana around and charged back alongside Charis. He was careful to avoid her striking lanes as he rode by Abijou. He let out a cheer as he rode along, alerting Charis that he was coming up behind her. The frove managed to partially dodge Thana’s charge, although it was struck by one of Thana’s hooves. Thana’s nostril’s flared as Semeion spun her around for another trampling run. It seemed as though the horse was enjoying beating the froves with its mighty hooves.

The frove leapt up once more against Charis, but Charis took this attack much more seriously than the last one. When the attack was over, the frove had a bloody impression of the bottom of Charis’ stirrup plastered across his nose. Charis returned the strike and caught the frove behind its right front shoulder with the point of her pick. The frove yelped in a bit of a howl and backed up to survey the battlefield. As Semeion looked on, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the goblins that were in charge of the froves or if the froves were the real brains behind the goblin tribe.

What the frove saw when it surveyed the battlefield was the effects of several blows traded from Ischarus and the other frove. After Iscahrus missed the frove’s exposed underbelly, the frove rose to the ground and leapt once more trying to unhorse the rider. Ischarus deftly spun Elistra around as the frove leapt and cause the frove to slam into the much more sturdy neck of Elistra. The frove tumbled back to the ground and Ischarus followed the blow from Elistra’s muscular neck with one of his own. His sword cut through the frove’s hair and a thin trail of blood appeared across the frove’s back.

The frove who was attacking Ischarus refused to give up and attacked again. This time the frove connected and caught hold of Ischarus’ forearm just above where his shield protected him. As the frove fell back to the ground, it clenched its teeth firmly in an attempt to unhorse Ischarus. Ischarus yanked back, freeing his arm from the bloody maw of the frove. The green eyed beast fell back to the ground and left a bloodied forearm behind in its wake. Ischarus turned Elistra around so that the frove was again on his sword side. Unfortunately his follow-up attack missed the frove high.

The frove leapt up again, staying on the sword side of Ischarus. The jaw of the frove found nothing except the solid metal butt end of Ischarus’ hilt of his sword. Ischarus quickly swung the sword down and caught the frove as he fell back to the ground. Another trail of blood appeared within the thick mat of fur protecting the frove. This cut was along his side.

The frove snarled at Ischarus and prepared to strike again. As it crouched in a ready stance to attack, the frove that had been attacking Charis called out to it in its foreign tongue. The frove looked to its left and saw that Semeion starting to charge again with Thana. The frove jumped backwards out of Semeion’s path and looked up into Ischarus’ eyes. As Ischarus returned the glare to the glowing green orbs of the frove, the beast spoke to him. “We will wear you down until there is nothing left, Drakontos. I have tasted your blood; I will eventually feast on your flesh.”

The froves turned and leapt back into the undergrowth of the forest. Charis turned in the saddle to look at Rhema. She stood in her saddle and was watching the proceeding with a very obedient goblin standing to her left. Rhema’s face showed a smile as she looked upon her friends. She looked down at the goblin and spoke softly and gently. “See, Rashaak? I told you that your forces would not be victorious. But I also told you that your forces would be spared in spite of the attack that you brought on us. We didn’t ask to be attacked. You attacked us. But to show you our true greatness, we will care for your wounded. Watch.”

Rhema nodded to Ischarus firmly and smiled. Ischarus picked up where Rhema had left off. “Charis, check on the goblin that Thana knocked into the forest. I’ll watch your back and make sure Abijou is safe.”

Charis gave Ischarus a quick glance and the look questioned if this is an appropriate time to stop and care for the goblin. She knew the enemy’s main force couldn’t be far. Ischarus gave his head a quick and hardly noticeable jerk in Rashaak’s direction. Charis nodded, dismounted, and moved quickly to where the goblin had been knocked into the woods. She dragged the goblin’s body back to among the company and checked his vital signs. She applied pressure to some of his wounds and ensuring that the bleeding has stopped. She quickly stood up and gave her report. “He’s unconscious, but will live. He’ll have a mighty headache when he wakes, but he’ll get better.”

Rhema smiled again, showing her extreme composure at a time when seconds meant everything. “Rashaak, look at me.” The goblin looked up at Rhema upon her horse. “As I have promised. He’ll live. Now stand here and wait for the hunting party to find you. Tell them that we intentionally did not kill any of your village. Tell them that we are merely moving through your territory and are not worth your effort.”

Rashaak nodded. He was enraptured by Rhema’s mind control over him. Rhema carefully backed up to avoid threatening Rashaak with Shauvry’s hooves. Once Semeion had passed by both Charis and Ischarus, Rhema spurred Shauvry into motion and continued along the trail. This time, she took the lead. Semeion followed atop of Thana and saluted Rashaak as he passed by. Charis followed behind Semeion and as she looked at the tiny, charmed, and confused goblin she couldn’t help but give a pleasant smile and a wink to the goblin. As Ischarus followed in the rear position, he stowed his sword in its scabbard and patted the hilt as he rode by Rashaak. Even the light gray figure took a part in the act as it passed by Rashaak and maintained eye contact until he passed directly through a tree.

The company surged forward through the trees, hoping to outrun the goblins and get out of their territory. Of course, nobody knew better than Charis that the owner of the next territory would likely not be any more forgiving.[/Sblock]