Bitterness Overcome: (Now A Completed Story!)

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Ten: METANOIA

Within minutes after the party left Rashaak and the unconscious goblin behind, they heard another set of howls. This particular set of howls sounded more desperate than before. As the party continued away from the scene, they noticed that the howls grew further and further away. At the sound of the howls the horses themselves naturally increased their pace. Each rider on the horses’ back noticed the increase in pace. The quickened pace was coupled with a run of goose bumps and chills of there own.

Charis was the first to comment on the howling. “I think that the howls are getting further away from us. Perhaps we are outdistancing them!”

Semeion offered up an alternate suggestion. His mind was working through the possible scenarios quickly as he was sure the pursuit would not be far behind. “Either that, or they have stopped to deal with Rashaak and the wounded one that we left behind.”

Rhema glanced down toward the ground with a brief moment of sorrow. “I do hope they will not treat Rashaak too miserably for allowing us to go. They should notice that he is still under my influence for a few more minutes. Hopefully our earlier encounter with Frang and Granknog will help them spare his life.”

Semeion offered up a hint of forgiveness to Rhema’s confession. “Either way, we did all that we could. We spared their lives and attempted to show them a higher ground. They brought the assault to us, Rhema.”

Rhema’s tone told that while she appreciated Semeion’s attempt to console her she was not altogether convinced. “Indeed. It seems that in Quehalost all we can do is small effects that narrowly escape failure. It really shouldn’t matter who brought the fight to whom. What should matter is that nobody needed to die at all.”

Ischarus had not heard the conversation from his position in the far rear of the group. The thundering of the horse hooves as they surged through the trees drowned out each of the front rider’s softer voices. “Whatever the reason is for the wolf howls fading in the distance, I think that we should be thankful and use that to spur us into riding harder! The more separation we can put between us and them the better off we will be when the froves begin pursuit again. We’ve already seen that we can be overtaken by the faster froves. Ride on, freedom fighters of Tongra!”

His last assertion rose in volume to that of a shout, the invocation of a semblance of a party name once again drove chills up and down the spines of those who rode on horseback. Unlike the last chills which came out of the eerie nature of the howling of the froves, these chills were from excitement and enthusiasm arising from a group identity. Charis let out a few cheers and yips. Before too long the entire party was yipping along with many of the thunderous thuds from the hooves beating upon the ground beneath them.

It did indeed prove to be the last they would hear of the goblins and froves as the rode hard. Nearly an hour and a half of hard riding later Ischarus called for a halt. He noticed that his horse was beginning to strain under the exertion of riding through unknown terrain at a considerable pace. “We walk to horses from here for a while,” Ischarus commanded after his call for a halt had gotten the attention of all ahead of him.

As they dismounted and began to walk in an attempt to cool the horses down and keep their overworked muscles from cramping, the light-gray figure approached Charis’ position and glided along the ground beside her. He matched her gate perfectly and without any effort. Abijou stood between Charis and the figure and the presence of the ghostly figure made the horse was nervous to say the least. “So, Drakontos, how does it feel to be home? From what the others have told me about your story I understand this area controlled by the great red wyrm Grixanthrosilithiss is your homeland?”

Charis nodded, although her gesture went unseen by the figure since her head was hidden by the broad front shoulders of Abijou. “You have heard correctly. I have been in no greater danger than that which I approach with every step. Our only hope is that my father dragon watches the other side of his territory with the same intensity of focus as he hoards treasure and plans on conquering the world in order to hoard more treasure. We hope to sneak in the back door and catch him unaware.”

Semeion added a question of his own before the light gray figure could reply. “You know this land well, then? Can you state for certain that we are out of goblin territory and safely into the land of the wyrm?”

Ischarus laughed and added, “Safely. Now that is an interesting choice of words, Semeion.”

The light gray figure ignored Ischarus for the moment and replied to Semeion before addressing Charis once more. “Yes. We are out of the goblin territory and have been for some time. Now you all fear fire from the sky and not the furry death from the glowing-eyed froves. But you avoided my question, Charis. How does it feel to be home?”

Nobody saw the single tear that ran down Charis’ cheek. She was grateful the tear appeared out of her left eye, as it meant her nose hid it from the right and Abijou hid it from the left. Her voice betrayed her passion, however. “How do you describe it? Is there a word that describes fear, terror, rage, guilt, and compassion all at once?”

Semeion was the first to pick up on her tone and respond. “Charis, are you alright? Do you need to break from our constant pursuit of your homeland?”

Charis shook her head slowly. Her speech came even more slowly. “No. The walking helps keep my mind focused away from the emotion.”

Silence ensued, Charis was obviously upset and even beyond death the light gray figure was able to understand that his innocent question had brought her emotions to the surface. After they had walked with only the sounds of feet and hooves crushing twigs and pine needles underneath for several minutes Charis spoke again. “What have I done to deserve this favor? Look at me? I was rescued from a life of abuse. Most likely I’d either be pregnant with half-draconic children right now or I’d be dead. One of those two choices was likely going to be my fate if I’d remained. And when it happened I didn’t even want to be rescued because I did not understand the truth about freedom and life.”

She paused for a moment to catch her breath before speaking again. “My people remain enslaved to that beast. I doubt that most found freedom when I was rescued. They had no guide through the tunnels. They knew no greater path. If they were not killed, captured, or enslaved by any of the beings that inhabit the tunnels underneath the mountains then they were likely rounded up and brought back. Worse yet, my people may have grown hungry and desperate when they were out on their own. Thus, they would have returned home and accepted the anger that my dragon father threw at them in exchange for the ability to continue living. Yet, if they did return they would have had to bargain their way into my father dragon’s society. They would have been forced to agree to a harder lifestyle than before. What did I ever do to deserve such a fate as this? Why am I so lucky while the rest of my people suffer so greatly?”

Again, silence ensued. Charis’ words made it clear that her comments were largely rhetorical. What could be said in response to the truth of what she spoke? Sure, everyone who was walking beside Charis knew that often life hands out cards in an unfair manner. In spite of this knowledge it seemed like a highly inappropriate time to remind Charis of that fact. Saying such a thing would only worsen the pain inside rather than ease it. Reminding her that life is not fair would only strengthen the guilt she felt inside.

They continued to walk in silence for well over a few hours. At first the party maintained silence for Charis’ sake. But once the silence had continued for some time they realized that it was not a bad strategy to use when passing through the dragon’s territory. After several hours of silence, Charis herself spoke first. She looked around at the surrounding area and recognition came to her eyes. “I know this territory. We are not far now. Perhaps a day’s more journey if we continue to travel until sundown.” She looked through the canopy above her as best as she could. “I recognize those hills. We used to come near this land and hunt for food.”

The pace of the party quickened once more. They were invigorated after enjoying the natural slow from Charis’ earlier comments. They continued to walk, knowing that the horses would be ridden hard tomorrow to reach their destination. The party had enough of silence and when Charis had spoken it sparked several small discussions about random elements of life. The party spoke of food, weapons, horses, and the light gray figure’s areas of expertise in Quehalost.

By the time sundown came, they had approached a natural spot in which to rest. There was a place where the canopy lessened and it would make a natural place to rest on account of the starlight helping the visibility for the evening watches. There was still enough of a canopy overhead to escape detection should a certain flying red dragon pass by. Camp was established quickly since it would be a fire-free camp. The flames from a fire would only attract attention from above. The light gray figure planned on helping each of the party members stay awake, keep alert, and pass the time on their watch since he would not need to sleep.

The next day passed quickly. The party rode atop their horses for most of the day, but they did not ride their horses hard. They knew that should they encounter resistance they would need fresh horses. This would be especially true should they encounter the kind of resistance with scales and a fiery breath. The pace was akin to a brisk walk for the horses.

The ground leveled as they neared the area that Charis had grown up under the careful eye of Grixanthrosilithiss. He had chosen an excellent place to establish his territorial rule. The mountains rose up sharply, giving him a perfect place to establish a home of his own. However, beneath the sharply increasing mountain sides there was a single valley of flat land. It was an ideal village area. Charis had loved its majesty when she was growing up. Now each step closer caused another figurative butterfly to flutter around inside her.

They knew that they were close when they saw the signs of smoke. Charis knew immediately that it was an innocent smoke. It was the smoke of cooking fires and small forges. Yet the spirits of all but Charis lifted as they saw the signs. It meant they were close. On horseback, they were less than a quarter of an hour of riding away.

Ischarus held up a clenched fist and the party came to an immediate halt. “Rhema, you and Semeion tend the horses. Charis and I know the most about Drakontai. We’re going to take a look.”

The plan made sense, at least on the surface level. The light gray figure decided to stay and talk lightly with Rhema and Semeion while the other two left. The canopy above them was thick, so it seemed like a good place to rest. Shortly after dismounting, Ischarus and Charis were out of sight and unable to be heard as they walked through the forest.

Ischarus and Rhema slowly crept up to the village edge. They saw the clearing as it had been only a few months before. The horizontal stone slab still existed as an important icon at the center of the community, although it was now empty and the signs of the earlier battle had easily been erased. The houses were still present in the near circular ring that Charis remembered. Everything seemed as though it had remained the same, almost as if the party’s efforts to disrupt the village had only one effect. It was as if life remained exactly the same with the exception of the disappearance of herself and a few others from her village.

As they looked and crept around the outside of the village only a few feet from the edge of the undergrowth, both Charis and Ischarus stopped at the same time. Their eyes simultaneously fixed on the same location. There was a four foot steel cube hanging from a pole in a slightly off center position within the circle of houses that made up the village. The steel cube had a solid top and bottom. The top of the cube had been painted black. The two sides of the cube that Ischarus and Rhema saw were both solid and also painted black.

With a slow and determined motion, Charis crept around the village enough to be able to get a glimpse of what the object truly was. As the other side came into view she understood. A third face of the steel cube was solid black painted steel. The fourth side had steel bars rather than a solid face. It was a cage, suspended from a pole. There was neither enough room to stand or lay down. Ironically, it reminded Ischarus of the torture device the light gray figure had spoken of being kept in within the goblin village.

Charis commented with a whisper as she noted the device. “It’s a cage. I can’t make out what’s inside. Is it an animal or human inside, can you see?”

Ischarus shook his head. “No clue.” He motioned for Charis to continue moving around.

As she moved, she tried to peer inside. “Painted black to draw the heat of the sun?” Charis questioned her thoughts aloud, speaking through her thoughts more than asking a legitimate question of Ischarus.

Ischarus answered anyway. “Probably a method of torture. It’d make sense for your dragon father to use the sun as a torture device. He is a red wyrm after all.

Charis stopped as the person inside came into view. “No,” she spoke softly. “It can’t be. Not for all this time! Oh, what have I done?”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]Chapter Ten: METANOIA

Within minutes after the party left Rashaak and the unconscious goblin behind, they heard another set of howls. This particular set of howls sounded more desperate than before. As the party continued away from the scene, they noticed that the howls grew further and further away. At the sound of the howls the horses themselves naturally increased their pace. Each rider on the horses’ back noticed the increase in pace. The quickened pace was coupled with a run of goose bumps and chills of there own.

Charis was the first to comment on the howling. “I think that the howls are getting further away from us. Perhaps we are outdistancing them!”

Semeion offered up an alternate suggestion. His mind was working through the possible scenarios quickly as he was sure the pursuit would not be far behind. “Either that, or they have stopped to deal with Rashaak and the wounded one that we left behind.”

Rhema glanced down toward the ground with a brief moment of sorrow. “I do hope they will not treat Rashaak too miserably for allowing us to go. They should notice that he is still under my influence for a few more minutes. Hopefully our earlier encounter with Frang and Granknog will help them spare his life.”

Semeion offered up a hint of forgiveness to Rhema’s confession. “Either way, we did all that we could. We spared their lives and attempted to show them a higher ground. They brought the assault to us, Rhema.”

Rhema’s tone told that while she appreciated Semeion’s attempt to console her she was not altogether convinced. “Indeed. It seems that in Quehalost all we can do is small effects that narrowly escape failure. It really shouldn’t matter who brought the fight to whom. What should matter is that nobody needed to die at all.”

Ischarus had not heard the conversation from his position in the far rear of the group. The thundering of the horse hooves as they surged through the trees drowned out each of the front rider’s softer voices. “Whatever the reason is for the wolf howls fading in the distance, I think that we should be thankful and use that to spur us into riding harder! The more separation we can put between us and them the better off we will be when the froves begin pursuit again. We’ve already seen that we can be overtaken by the faster froves. Ride on, freedom fighters of Tongra!”

His last assertion rose in volume to that of a shout, the invocation of a semblance of a party name once again drove chills up and down the spines of those who rode on horseback. Unlike the last chills which came out of the eerie nature of the howling of the froves, these chills were from excitement and enthusiasm arising from a group identity. Charis let out a few cheers and yips. Before too long the entire party was yipping along with many of the thunderous thuds from the hooves beating upon the ground beneath them.

It did indeed prove to be the last they would hear of the goblins and froves as the rode hard. Nearly an hour and a half of hard riding later Ischarus called for a halt. He noticed that his horse was beginning to strain under the exertion of riding through unknown terrain at a considerable pace. “We walk to horses from here for a while,” Ischarus commanded after his call for a halt had gotten the attention of all ahead of him.

As they dismounted and began to walk in an attempt to cool the horses down and keep their overworked muscles from cramping, the light-gray figure approached Charis’ position and glided along the ground beside her. He matched her gate perfectly and without any effort. Abijou stood between Charis and the figure and the presence of the ghostly figure made the horse was nervous to say the least. “So, Drakontos, how does it feel to be home? From what the others have told me about your story I understand this area controlled by the great red wyrm Grixanthrosilithiss is your homeland?”

Charis nodded, although her gesture went unseen by the figure since her head was hidden by the broad front shoulders of Abijou. “You have heard correctly. I have been in no greater danger than that which I approach with every step. Our only hope is that my father dragon watches the other side of his territory with the same intensity of focus as he hoards treasure and plans on conquering the world in order to hoard more treasure. We hope to sneak in the back door and catch him unaware.”

Semeion added a question of his own before the light gray figure could reply. “You know this land well, then? Can you state for certain that we are out of goblin territory and safely into the land of the wyrm?”

Ischarus laughed and added, “Safely. Now that is an interesting choice of words, Semeion.”

The light gray figure ignored Ischarus for the moment and replied to Semeion before addressing Charis once more. “Yes. We are out of the goblin territory and have been for some time. Now you all fear fire from the sky and not the furry death from the glowing-eyed froves. But you avoided my question, Charis. How does it feel to be home?”

Nobody saw the single tear that ran down Charis’ cheek. She was grateful the tear appeared out of her left eye, as it meant her nose hid it from the right and Abijou hid it from the left. Her voice betrayed her passion, however. “How do you describe it? Is there a word that describes fear, terror, rage, guilt, and compassion all at once?”

Semeion was the first to pick up on her tone and respond. “Charis, are you alright? Do you need to break from our constant pursuit of your homeland?”

Charis shook her head slowly. Her speech came even more slowly. “No. The walking helps keep my mind focused away from the emotion.”

Silence ensued, Charis was obviously upset and even beyond death the light gray figure was able to understand that his innocent question had brought her emotions to the surface. After they had walked with only the sounds of feet and hooves crushing twigs and pine needles underneath for several minutes Charis spoke again. “What have I done to deserve this favor? Look at me? I was rescued from a life of abuse. Most likely I’d either be pregnant with half-draconic children right now or I’d be dead. One of those two choices was likely going to be my fate if I’d remained. And when it happened I didn’t even want to be rescued because I did not understand the truth about freedom and life.”

She paused for a moment to catch her breath before speaking again. “My people remain enslaved to that beast. I doubt that most found freedom when I was rescued. They had no guide through the tunnels. They knew no greater path. If they were not killed, captured, or enslaved by any of the beings that inhabit the tunnels underneath the mountains then they were likely rounded up and brought back. Worse yet, my people may have grown hungry and desperate when they were out on their own. Thus, they would have returned home and accepted the anger that my dragon father threw at them in exchange for the ability to continue living. Yet, if they did return they would have had to bargain their way into my father dragon’s society. They would have been forced to agree to a harder lifestyle than before. What did I ever do to deserve such a fate as this? Why am I so lucky while the rest of my people suffer so greatly?”

Again, silence ensued. Charis’ words made it clear that her comments were largely rhetorical. What could be said in response to the truth of what she spoke? Sure, everyone who was walking beside Charis knew that often life hands out cards in an unfair manner. In spite of this knowledge it seemed like a highly inappropriate time to remind Charis of that fact. Saying such a thing would only worsen the pain inside rather than ease it. Reminding her that life is not fair would only strengthen the guilt she felt inside.

They continued to walk in silence for well over a few hours. At first the party maintained silence for Charis’ sake. But once the silence had continued for some time they realized that it was not a bad strategy to use when passing through the dragon’s territory. After several hours of silence, Charis herself spoke first. She looked around at the surrounding area and recognition came to her eyes. “I know this territory. We are not far now. Perhaps a day’s more journey if we continue to travel until sundown.” She looked through the canopy above her as best as she could. “I recognize those hills. We used to come near this land and hunt for food.”

The pace of the party quickened once more. They were invigorated after enjoying the natural slow from Charis’ earlier comments. They continued to walk, knowing that the horses would be ridden hard tomorrow to reach their destination. The party had enough of silence and when Charis had spoken it sparked several small discussions about random elements of life. The party spoke of food, weapons, horses, and the light gray figure’s areas of expertise in Quehalost.

By the time sundown came, they had approached a natural spot in which to rest. There was a place where the canopy lessened and it would make a natural place to rest on account of the starlight helping the visibility for the evening watches. There was still enough of a canopy overhead to escape detection should a certain flying red dragon pass by. Camp was established quickly since it would be a fire-free camp. The flames from a fire would only attract attention from above. The light gray figure planned on helping each of the party members stay awake, keep alert, and pass the time on their watch since he would not need to sleep.

The next day passed quickly. The party rode atop their horses for most of the day, but they did not ride their horses hard. They knew that should they encounter resistance they would need fresh horses. This would be especially true should they encounter the kind of resistance with scales and a fiery breath. The pace was akin to a brisk walk for the horses.

The ground leveled as they neared the area that Charis had grown up under the careful eye of Grixanthrosilithiss. He had chosen an excellent place to establish his territorial rule. The mountains rose up sharply, giving him a perfect place to establish a home of his own. However, beneath the sharply increasing mountain sides there was a single valley of flat land. It was an ideal village area. Charis had loved its majesty when she was growing up. Now each step closer caused another figurative butterfly to flutter around inside her.

They knew that they were close when they saw the signs of smoke. Charis knew immediately that it was an innocent smoke. It was the smoke of cooking fires and small forges. Yet the spirits of all but Charis lifted as they saw the signs. It meant they were close. On horseback, they were less than a quarter of an hour of riding away.

Ischarus held up a clenched fist and the party came to an immediate halt. “Rhema, you and Semeion tend the horses. Charis and I know the most about Drakontai. We’re going to take a look.”

The plan made sense, at least on the surface level. The light gray figure decided to stay and talk lightly with Rhema and Semeion while the other two left. The canopy above them was thick, so it seemed like a good place to rest. Shortly after dismounting, Ischarus and Charis were out of sight and unable to be heard as they walked through the forest.

Ischarus and Rhema slowly crept up to the village edge. They saw the clearing as it had been only a few months before. The horizontal stone slab still existed as an important icon at the center of the community, although it was now empty and the signs of the earlier battle had easily been erased. The houses were still present in the near circular ring that Charis remembered. Everything seemed as though it had remained the same, almost as if the party’s efforts to disrupt the village had only one effect. It was as if life remained exactly the same with the exception of the disappearance of herself and a few others from her village.

As they looked and crept around the outside of the village only a few feet from the edge of the undergrowth, both Charis and Ischarus stopped at the same time. Their eyes simultaneously fixed on the same location. There was a four foot steel cube hanging from a pole in a slightly off center position within the circle of houses that made up the village. The steel cube had a solid top and bottom. The top of the cube had been painted black. The two sides of the cube that Ischarus and Rhema saw were both solid and also painted black.

With a slow and determined motion, Charis crept around the village enough to be able to get a glimpse of what the object truly was. As the other side came into view she understood. A third face of the steel cube was solid black painted steel. The fourth side had steel bars rather than a solid face. It was a cage, suspended from a pole. There was neither enough room to stand or lay down. Ironically, it reminded Ischarus of the torture device the light gray figure had spoken of being kept in within the goblin village.

Charis commented with a whisper as she noted the device. “It’s a cage. I can’t make out what’s inside. Is it an animal or human inside, can you see?”

Ischarus shook his head. “No clue.” He motioned for Charis to continue moving around.

As she moved, she tried to peer inside. “Painted black to draw the heat of the sun?” Charis questioned her thoughts aloud, speaking through her thoughts more than asking a legitimate question of Ischarus.

Ischarus answered anyway. “Probably a method of torture. It’d make sense for your dragon father to use the sun as a torture device. He is a red wyrm after all.

Charis stopped as the person inside came into view. “No,” she spoke softly. “It can’t be. Not for all this time! Oh, what have I done?”[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Ischarus took one look at the inside of the cage and saw a disheveled looking man. He’d obviously not been bathed for a long time. His facial hair had grown long and it was matted in several places. His clothing hung loosely from his shoulders and was torn and tattered. There was evidence that a whipping had occurred as many of the tears in the clothing were parallel to one another. The figure’s muscle tone was simply nonexistent from having spent prolonged periods of time in the cramped quarters. In all, there didn’t appear to be much muscle left on the figure. He had the look of a man who was intentionally being starved within an inch of his life. Ischarus noticed especially that there appeared to be a great swarm of flies constantly darting in and out of the front of the metal cage.

Charis tucked her head into her hands and mumbled something inaudible. Ischarus thought it sounded like a name but he wasn’t sure. Charis breathed in deeply and used the palms of her hand to push away her hair as it covered her face when she looked down. Frustrated, she pulled her hair back and tied it in a simple knot that she expected to come undone the first time that she moved. She looked up once more at the cage and shook her head in disbelief.

Ischarus saw her immediate discouragement as she recognized the figure inside the cage. “Family, Charis?”

Charis smiled and let out a quick, muffled laugh. She hadn’t expected that comment out of Ischarus. He knew what a Drakontos village community was like. “We’re all family, Ischarus, through our dragon father.”

Ischarus shared her quick and muffled laugh after hearing her response. “Fair enough. Is it immediate family, then? Brother, Father?” Ischarus expected that the man being her father would be a bit of a stretch. The man in the cage didn’t look much more than Charis’ own age, although the unkempt appearance made it hard to tell for certain. He had thought about adding something along the lines of boyfriend, fiancée, or even husband but for the sake of Semeion and their budding romance he held back his tongue.

Charis replied with sorrow in her voice. “None of the above. He was a friend, that’s all. He was a good friend of mine until about a week before I was offered up as Provenience and rescued by you all. I had tried to get him to understand the necessity of our plan. I had tried to sway him to see the light of those who desired me to be the Provenience in an attempt to spread my healing to a new generation. But he was too close to our dragon father. He was convinced that if our dragon father’s plans were attainable then our greatness and freedom from manual labor was destined to be through creating an army of power and dominating the area. He thought that our freedom rested upon the enslavement of others.”

Ischarus frowned as he listened to Charis. “If he was so close to the dragon father, why do you think that he has been locked up here? If he chose to follow the ways of his dragon father over the counsel of his friends, why would he be punished?”

Charis shook her head slowly as her eyes focused in on the man within the cage. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a good guess. I would expect that the man in the box has been in there for about as long as I have been running free.”

Ischarus looked confused. “How can you be so certain?

Charis looked down and away from the box, closing her eyes tightly so as to drive the image out of her mind. When she was unsuccessful she looked back to Ischarus. Her eyes were filled with tears. “The man in the box is Druff. He used to be a fighter of great strength as you saw the last time you were through here.”

Ischarus looked back at the box. It was not possible for him to imagine the strong and vibrant young swordsman that Ischarus had matched up against so evenly as having turned into this untidy and weak figure before them. “Druff? But he was so adamantly loyal to the power of your dragon father!”

Charis nodded in agreement. “But he was the one Rhema charmed to help get the people to run. He was as big of a factor in their freedom as you all were. When you made it to the caves, I have no doubt that the wrath of my dragon father focused on Druff for allowing himself to be charmed into listening to Rhema. He took the blame that was intended for you three. I am sure that he took my father dragon’s rage for losing me. The setback to my father dragon’s plan became his fault. I do not doubt that.”

Ischarus spoke softly, hoping to sooth the pain and guilt inside. “You cannot know that for sure, Charis.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t out of enjoyment. Her face demonstrated that she was grateful for his attempt to make her feel better but his words carried little weight. “Look at him, Ischarus. He’s been in there for a long time.”

A voice appeared from directly behind the pair and softly put forth a question. “Menshea?” Both the language and the name were spoken in a thick draconic accent.

Ischarus drew his sword in a flash and spun around to find a young girl, perhaps three or four years younger than Charis. Her black hair with red highlights and the red flecked irises of her eyes gave her away as a Drakontos of this village. Much of her facial figures were incredibly similar to Charis that it was uncanny.

In another instant Ischarus pounced on the girl and trapped her mouth underneath his leather gauntleted glove. He was careful to make sure that her nose was completely free from being blocked so that she could still breathe. Switching to the language of the Drakontai he spoke directly to the girl. “Make no sound. Even seeing us could get you killed by your dragon father. Do you understand that your life is in danger and not necessarily by us?”

Of course, the girl nodded. From her perspective she knew her life was in danger. Ischarus had drawn his sword and charged her position before she could react. There was no doubt in the girl’s mind that her life was in danger.

Charis quickly moved to the girl’s position. “Harrah? Is that you? You are so thin!”

The girl nodded in the affirmative quite vigorously. Of course, it was impossible to reply on account of Ischarus’ hand covering her mouth.

Charis smiled broadly. “Ischarus, this is a friend. Her parents were two of the most vocal supporters of the plan to make me Provenience. She won’t yell or tell anyone that she has seen us. Will she, Harrah?”

Harrah shook her head slowly from side to side. Her eyes shot to Ischarus upon hearing his name. She recognized it as a Drakontos name itself. Yet, she knew that his eyes and hair did not contain the red flecks and highlights as did those of Charis and herself. Where she expected to find red she only saw the glistening of the color of mercury.

Ischarus lifted his hand only an inch from her face, completely prepared to reapply the pressure should the need arise. “No loud sounds, correct?”

Harrah spoke softly in the draconic language. “No loud sounds. You are a strange Drakontos. How have you shed your red color and replaced it with that of refined metal?”

Charis smiled, remembering the exact same thought the first time she recognized Ischarus as a Drakontos. “He is not of our tribe, Harrah. He is of a tribe with another dragon father. His father dragon is the color of his eyes, not red like ours.”

Harrah spat upon the ground. “You are the enemy of our father dragon. We all know of dragons who have the coloring of your eyes.”

Ischarus could only smile. She was correct, of course. His father dragon was a natural enemy of her own father dragon. “Our father dragons may be enemies, but that does not imply that we must be enemies. The one you call Menshea is my friend. We call her Charis.”

The girl smiled. “You speak wisely, Drakontos of another tribe.”

Charis interrupted the polite introductions. It was time to have some answers. “Harrah, what happened to Druff?”

Harrah looked to the ground. “Druff has been abused by our father dragon as a sign of disobedience. For several weeks Druff and others like him hunted our people in the tunnels and the surrounding area. He and the others returned many of our tribe back to our father dragon. As more came back, our father dragon imposed much more harsh and strict penalties upon us. You say I am so skinny, but that is because we are forced to work twice as hard as before and have hardly any time to hunt. Many of our fellow tribesmen have not eaten meat for a month. We live simply off of the berries that we can forage for at night when we should be sleeping. Once Druff and his men were certain there were no more left to find and that you had escaped for good, our dragon father imposed even greater penalties upon our community. The children were taken away. Husbands were not allowed to mate with their wives. In fact, our dragon father made it so that men and women could not even meet and if anyone violated the rule they would be punished with death by our father dragon’s breath. As the penalties increased greatly, Druff began to see what he could not see before you left. Druff could not see what you and my parents and others like you could not convince him of. Druff saw the cruelty for what it was.”

Ischarus heard a snap of a twig around their location, but a quick search found nobody in movement. The trio said nothing as they searched the area around them. After several minutes of silence, Ischarus nodded for Harrah to continue.

Harrah spoke more softly than she had earlier. “Druff met with the male elders, for he was not allowed to meet with the women. Together they all devised a plan. The elders proposed to our father dragon that if he would remove some of the restrictions they would investigate as to who the traitors were that were still in the community. Our father dragon agreed, and removed all of the punishments that divided our community. He refused to remove the increases to our labor. Our elders thought the compromise would be enough and was worth the sacrifice. At Druff’s proposal they turned Druff in as the traitor. Immediately our father dragon’s rage turned upon him. We have lived easier for several months because Druff is tortured. We begged for him to not make this choice, but he insisted. He had seen our father dragon for the abusively powerful figure that he was and knew that escape was impossible. He realized that he had put his faith in the wrong source and it was now coming back to haunt him and his fellow Drakontai. He wanted to die rather than live and mourn the errors of his past. Yet, our dragon father would not grant him that request. Our dragon father decided that Druff would become the icon for what happens to those who lose faith. As a form of torture, our father dragon allows him 20 minutes of exercise a day. That is enough to keep his body from deciding to die. Our father dragon only allows Druff to have exactly enough food to prevent him from dying. He is always hungry, however. Our dragon father gives him just enough to keep him from dying. But through his sacrifice we have found ease.”

Harrah’s eyes dropped to the ground, mourning Druff’s condition. Charis was about to speak, but each of the three Drakontai present heard another snap of a twig. This time, Ischarus saw who was moving around them. It was an aged man, especially for a Drakontos of red dragon lineage. Ischarus estimated that by his look that the newcomer was several decades older than Ischarus himself. Ischarus caught his eyes in a stare of his own but did not speak. He motioned for the figure to come out of hiding.

As the figure moved, Harrah whispered with a smile on his face. “Papa! Why have you come into the woods and left your work?”

The man closed a few steps closer and then looked at the party. “I remember you,” he said as he looked to Ischarus. “You are the one who came and began all of our trouble! You were the one that stole our …” His eyes glanced to Charis. His tone changed to one of being stunned. “Provenience?” He bowed his head in respect and stepped two more steps forward.

Charis looked at the man and her eyes filled with compassion. “Xando. It has been forever. Please, come and approach. I have returned for you all, and I have brought friends.”

The man looked up as his name was spoken. “That is impossible. Do not speak of such things.” Xando approached Harrah and embraced her lovingly. “Harrah, when you did not return from retrieving wood for my fire I grew worried. I had to come and see if you were safe.”

Ischarus spoke with little emotion in his voice. He was smart enough to realize that he and Charis were alone. Too many Drakontai would mean an ever increasing amount of danger. “She is safe. She is safer now than she has been in months.”

Harrah spoke softly to her father. “Listen to Menshea and her friend. They speak truth. That is something that has vanished from our village for years. And it has only returned in the cage.”

Charis looked down again at the mention of Druff. She lifted her head and spoke directly to Xando. “Xando, how many in the village are loyal to you?”

Xando smiled, and his thick gray mustache curled around his lips. “As many as before. But I can say that there is only a handful still loyal to the father dragon. Those who are not loyal to me have been swayed by Druff’s sacrifice. Many may be loyal to me. But all are loyal to Druff. There is not one in the village who would not listen to Druff.”

Charis’ eyes brightened. Her mind regressed to the time when she was a part of this community and she remembered the village routines. “Good. Then tell each family member to send one representative to your house after the fire is extinguished for the night. Tell them to come in darkness and bring no light. Druff will speak with them.”

Both Xando and Harrah looked with curiosity upon Charis. Even Ischarus had to admit that her words had him interested. As Xando looked to her he began to question her words. Charis cut him off and pointed to the village. “Do not ask. Go! You both have been gone too long already. And take wood with you!”

Charis had stepped back into the mode of Provenience. Xando and Harrah felt it natural to obey her and they did. They knew the wisdom in her last statement. Charis and Ischarus watched from the cover of the woods to make sure they both safely returned to their house with the wood. Only once they were safely in the house did Charis give one more glance to Druff in his cage. “I always knew Druff was noble. If only he had not been so stubborn before you came. If he would have had more wisdom before you came things would have been different. But, we’ve had enough of the past. Come, we have plans to make. Those plans will require all our input.”

Charis began to move away from the village. Ischarus stopped her by grabbing her elbow lightly. As she turned to face him, Ischarus smiled and spoke. “Menshea?”

Charis blushed and looked down to the ground. “It is a nickname, nothing more.”

Iscahrus released her and they began to walk quietly through the woods together. Ischarus continued to pry. “A nickname? You get a name like Menshea and you expect me to be satisfied with that explanation?”

Charis smiled broadly and gave Ischarus a nearly flirtatious look. As her head turned back to look at him, her hair fluttered freely through the air. Had her interest in Semeion not been so obvious, Ischarus might have considered the look for more than what it was as offered. “We do not always get what we want, Ischarus.”

She knew they were far enough away from the village to be able to make a bit of noise. She looked back in the direction they were headed and broke into a run, expecting Ischarus to chase. She was not disappointed.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus took one look at the inside of the cage and saw a disheveled looking man. He’d obviously not been bathed for a long time. His facial hair had grown long and it was matted in several places. His clothing hung loosely from his shoulders and was torn and tattered. There was evidence that a whipping had occurred as many of the tears in the clothing were parallel to one another. The figure’s muscle tone was simply nonexistent from having spent prolonged periods of time in the cramped quarters. In all, there didn’t appear to be much muscle left on the figure. He had the look of a man who was intentionally being starved within an inch of his life. Ischarus noticed especially that there appeared to be a great swarm of flies constantly darting in and out of the front of the metal cage.

Charis tucked her head into her hands and mumbled something inaudible. Ischarus thought it sounded like a name but he wasn’t sure. Charis breathed in deeply and used the palms of her hand to push away her hair as it covered her face when she looked down. Frustrated, she pulled her hair back and tied it in a simple knot that she expected to come undone the first time that she moved. She looked up once more at the cage and shook her head in disbelief.

Ischarus saw her immediate discouragement as she recognized the figure inside the cage. “Family, Charis?”

Charis smiled and let out a quick, muffled laugh. She hadn’t expected that comment out of Ischarus. He knew what a Drakontos village community was like. “We’re all family, Ischarus, through our dragon father.”

Ischarus shared her quick and muffled laugh after hearing her response. “Fair enough. Is it immediate family, then? Brother, Father?” Ischarus expected that the man being her father would be a bit of a stretch. The man in the cage didn’t look much more than Charis’ own age, although the unkempt appearance made it hard to tell for certain. He had thought about adding something along the lines of boyfriend, fiancée, or even husband but for the sake of Semeion and their budding romance he held back his tongue.

Charis replied with sorrow in her voice. “None of the above. He was a friend, that’s all. He was a good friend of mine until about a week before I was offered up as Provenience and rescued by you all. I had tried to get him to understand the necessity of our plan. I had tried to sway him to see the light of those who desired me to be the Provenience in an attempt to spread my healing to a new generation. But he was too close to our dragon father. He was convinced that if our dragon father’s plans were attainable then our greatness and freedom from manual labor was destined to be through creating an army of power and dominating the area. He thought that our freedom rested upon the enslavement of others.”

Ischarus frowned as he listened to Charis. “If he was so close to the dragon father, why do you think that he has been locked up here? If he chose to follow the ways of his dragon father over the counsel of his friends, why would he be punished?”

Charis shook her head slowly as her eyes focused in on the man within the cage. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a good guess. I would expect that the man in the box has been in there for about as long as I have been running free.”

Ischarus looked confused. “How can you be so certain?

Charis looked down and away from the box, closing her eyes tightly so as to drive the image out of her mind. When she was unsuccessful she looked back to Ischarus. Her eyes were filled with tears. “The man in the box is Druff. He used to be a fighter of great strength as you saw the last time you were through here.”

Ischarus looked back at the box. It was not possible for him to imagine the strong and vibrant young swordsman that Ischarus had matched up against so evenly as having turned into this untidy and weak figure before them. “Druff? But he was so adamantly loyal to the power of your dragon father!”

Charis nodded in agreement. “But he was the one Rhema charmed to help get the people to run. He was as big of a factor in their freedom as you all were. When you made it to the caves, I have no doubt that the wrath of my dragon father focused on Druff for allowing himself to be charmed into listening to Rhema. He took the blame that was intended for you three. I am sure that he took my father dragon’s rage for losing me. The setback to my father dragon’s plan became his fault. I do not doubt that.”

Ischarus spoke softly, hoping to sooth the pain and guilt inside. “You cannot know that for sure, Charis.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t out of enjoyment. Her face demonstrated that she was grateful for his attempt to make her feel better but his words carried little weight. “Look at him, Ischarus. He’s been in there for a long time.”

A voice appeared from directly behind the pair and softly put forth a question. “Menshea?” Both the language and the name were spoken in a thick draconic accent.

Ischarus drew his sword in a flash and spun around to find a young girl, perhaps three or four years younger than Charis. Her black hair with red highlights and the red flecked irises of her eyes gave her away as a Drakontos of this village. Much of her facial figures were incredibly similar to Charis that it was uncanny.

In another instant Ischarus pounced on the girl and trapped her mouth underneath his leather gauntleted glove. He was careful to make sure that her nose was completely free from being blocked so that she could still breathe. Switching to the language of the Drakontai he spoke directly to the girl. “Make no sound. Even seeing us could get you killed by your dragon father. Do you understand that your life is in danger and not necessarily by us?”

Of course, the girl nodded. From her perspective she knew her life was in danger. Ischarus had drawn his sword and charged her position before she could react. There was no doubt in the girl’s mind that her life was in danger.

Charis quickly moved to the girl’s position. “Harrah? Is that you? You are so thin!”

The girl nodded in the affirmative quite vigorously. Of course, it was impossible to reply on account of Ischarus’ hand covering her mouth.

Charis smiled broadly. “Ischarus, this is a friend. Her parents were two of the most vocal supporters of the plan to make me Provenience. She won’t yell or tell anyone that she has seen us. Will she, Harrah?”

Harrah shook her head slowly from side to side. Her eyes shot to Ischarus upon hearing his name. She recognized it as a Drakontos name itself. Yet, she knew that his eyes and hair did not contain the red flecks and highlights as did those of Charis and herself. Where she expected to find red she only saw the glistening of the color of mercury.

Ischarus lifted his hand only an inch from her face, completely prepared to reapply the pressure should the need arise. “No loud sounds, correct?”

Harrah spoke softly in the draconic language. “No loud sounds. You are a strange Drakontos. How have you shed your red color and replaced it with that of refined metal?”

Charis smiled, remembering the exact same thought the first time she recognized Ischarus as a Drakontos. “He is not of our tribe, Harrah. He is of a tribe with another dragon father. His father dragon is the color of his eyes, not red like ours.”

Harrah spat upon the ground. “You are the enemy of our father dragon. We all know of dragons who have the coloring of your eyes.”

Ischarus could only smile. She was correct, of course. His father dragon was a natural enemy of her own father dragon. “Our father dragons may be enemies, but that does not imply that we must be enemies. The one you call Menshea is my friend. We call her Charis.”

The girl smiled. “You speak wisely, Drakontos of another tribe.”

Charis interrupted the polite introductions. It was time to have some answers. “Harrah, what happened to Druff?”

Harrah looked to the ground. “Druff has been abused by our father dragon as a sign of disobedience. For several weeks Druff and others like him hunted our people in the tunnels and the surrounding area. He and the others returned many of our tribe back to our father dragon. As more came back, our father dragon imposed much more harsh and strict penalties upon us. You say I am so skinny, but that is because we are forced to work twice as hard as before and have hardly any time to hunt. Many of our fellow tribesmen have not eaten meat for a month. We live simply off of the berries that we can forage for at night when we should be sleeping. Once Druff and his men were certain there were no more left to find and that you had escaped for good, our dragon father imposed even greater penalties upon our community. The children were taken away. Husbands were not allowed to mate with their wives. In fact, our dragon father made it so that men and women could not even meet and if anyone violated the rule they would be punished with death by our father dragon’s breath. As the penalties increased greatly, Druff began to see what he could not see before you left. Druff could not see what you and my parents and others like you could not convince him of. Druff saw the cruelty for what it was.”

Ischarus heard a snap of a twig around their location, but a quick search found nobody in movement. The trio said nothing as they searched the area around them. After several minutes of silence, Ischarus nodded for Harrah to continue.

Harrah spoke more softly than she had earlier. “Druff met with the male elders, for he was not allowed to meet with the women. Together they all devised a plan. The elders proposed to our father dragon that if he would remove some of the restrictions they would investigate as to who the traitors were that were still in the community. Our father dragon agreed, and removed all of the punishments that divided our community. He refused to remove the increases to our labor. Our elders thought the compromise would be enough and was worth the sacrifice. At Druff’s proposal they turned Druff in as the traitor. Immediately our father dragon’s rage turned upon him. We have lived easier for several months because Druff is tortured. We begged for him to not make this choice, but he insisted. He had seen our father dragon for the abusively powerful figure that he was and knew that escape was impossible. He realized that he had put his faith in the wrong source and it was now coming back to haunt him and his fellow Drakontai. He wanted to die rather than live and mourn the errors of his past. Yet, our dragon father would not grant him that request. Our dragon father decided that Druff would become the icon for what happens to those who lose faith. As a form of torture, our father dragon allows him 20 minutes of exercise a day. That is enough to keep his body from deciding to die. Our father dragon only allows Druff to have exactly enough food to prevent him from dying. He is always hungry, however. Our dragon father gives him just enough to keep him from dying. But through his sacrifice we have found ease.”

Harrah’s eyes dropped to the ground, mourning Druff’s condition. Charis was about to speak, but each of the three Drakontai present heard another snap of a twig. This time, Ischarus saw who was moving around them. It was an aged man, especially for a Drakontos of red dragon lineage. Ischarus estimated that by his look that the newcomer was several decades older than Ischarus himself. Ischarus caught his eyes in a stare of his own but did not speak. He motioned for the figure to come out of hiding.

As the figure moved, Harrah whispered with a smile on his face. “Papa! Why have you come into the woods and left your work?”

The man closed a few steps closer and then looked at the party. “I remember you,” he said as he looked to Ischarus. “You are the one who came and began all of our trouble! You were the one that stole our …” His eyes glanced to Charis. His tone changed to one of being stunned. “Provenience?” He bowed his head in respect and stepped two more steps forward.

Charis looked at the man and her eyes filled with compassion. “Xando. It has been forever. Please, come and approach. I have returned for you all, and I have brought friends.”

The man looked up as his name was spoken. “That is impossible. Do not speak of such things.” Xando approached Harrah and embraced her lovingly. “Harrah, when you did not return from retrieving wood for my fire I grew worried. I had to come and see if you were safe.”

Ischarus spoke with little emotion in his voice. He was smart enough to realize that he and Charis were alone. Too many Drakontai would mean an ever increasing amount of danger. “She is safe. She is safer now than she has been in months.”

Harrah spoke softly to her father. “Listen to Menshea and her friend. They speak truth. That is something that has vanished from our village for years. And it has only returned in the cage.”

Charis looked down again at the mention of Druff. She lifted her head and spoke directly to Xando. “Xando, how many in the village are loyal to you?”

Xando smiled, and his thick gray mustache curled around his lips. “As many as before. But I can say that there is only a handful still loyal to the father dragon. Those who are not loyal to me have been swayed by Druff’s sacrifice. Many may be loyal to me. But all are loyal to Druff. There is not one in the village who would not listen to Druff.”

Charis’ eyes brightened. Her mind regressed to the time when she was a part of this community and she remembered the village routines. “Good. Then tell each family member to send one representative to your house after the fire is extinguished for the night. Tell them to come in darkness and bring no light. Druff will speak with them.”

Both Xando and Harrah looked with curiosity upon Charis. Even Ischarus had to admit that her words had him interested. As Xando looked to her he began to question her words. Charis cut him off and pointed to the village. “Do not ask. Go! You both have been gone too long already. And take wood with you!”

Charis had stepped back into the mode of Provenience. Xando and Harrah felt it natural to obey her and they did. They knew the wisdom in her last statement. Charis and Ischarus watched from the cover of the woods to make sure they both safely returned to their house with the wood. Only once they were safely in the house did Charis give one more glance to Druff in his cage. “I always knew Druff was noble. If only he had not been so stubborn before you came. If he would have had more wisdom before you came things would have been different. But, we’ve had enough of the past. Come, we have plans to make. Those plans will require all our input.”

Charis began to move away from the village. Ischarus stopped her by grabbing her elbow lightly. As she turned to face him, Ischarus smiled and spoke. “Menshea?”

Charis blushed and looked down to the ground. “It is a nickname, nothing more.”

Iscahrus released her and they began to walk quietly through the woods together. Ischarus continued to pry. “A nickname? You get a name like Menshea and you expect me to be satisfied with that explanation?”

Charis smiled broadly and gave Ischarus a nearly flirtatious look. As her head turned back to look at him, her hair fluttered freely through the air. Had her interest in Semeion not been so obvious, Ischarus might have considered the look for more than what it was as offered. “We do not always get what we want, Ischarus.”

She knew they were far enough away from the village to be able to make a bit of noise. She looked back in the direction they were headed and broke into a run, expecting Ischarus to chase. She was not disappointed.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Ischarus eventually caught up to Charis and in a whirling motion of intertwined bodies they tumbled to the ground. Fortunately for both of them neither of them landed on top of each other and the awkward moment of potential was avoided. Ischarus was the first one to stand up on his feet and he approached Charis with caution, fearing that she just might try and trip him. He reached out a hand and extended it to her as an offering of a sign of truce to get her onto her feet. He smiled as he spoke and his tone took a teasing position. “Now I caught you, so fess up. Where I come from Menshea is not a bad term, but it is definitely an unusual one. Menshea means something loosely translated to ‘Big Little Finger.’ I couldn’t help myself so I checked during that conversation. Your fingers aren’t oddly shaped at all. So there must be something about the name that I do not understand, right?”

Charis returned the smile and accepted Ischarus’ help up. “I suppose the name is not so much embarrassing as it is telling of my upbringing. It is a personal name given to me by my clan. Some people earn funny names while other people earn names that honestly reflect who they are. That is the case with me. I earned that name when I was little.”

Ischarus chuckled as he gestured to Charis indicating the direction that they had to travel to return to the party. “You used to have a big little finger but grew into it like a puppy who grows into their over-sized paws?”

Charis couldn’t help but laugh again at the suggestion. It showed some serious thought, but she knew he was headed down the wrong direction. “No, not quite. Have you ever heard it explained how a child has a parent wrapped around their little finger?”

Ischarus nodded as he pushed a branch out of the way. “Sure, it means that the child has learned how to manipulate a parent. Sometimes it means that they can make a certain face, or talk in a certain tone. Sometimes it means they just know when to ask. But yeah, I understand what you are getting at.”

Charis continued. “My people learned of my healing talent from almost day one. My mother recovered from my birth in record time. Her birth was nearly free from pain. Once I began to be able to walk I would occasionally heal people who might pick me up in the village. This fact was especially true if their scars and the like were visible. Once the elders of the village heard about my gift and saw it with their own eyes, they knew something had to be done immediately to protect me from our dragon father. It’s not that my dragon father would’ve killed me. Rather, he would have taken a keen interest in me and most likely corrupted my abilities. The elders of the village had other plans. Throughout the village I was given the name Menshea. The villagers had come to revere my gift and knew that I could help them if they got into trouble with the dragon father or even if an accident happened in a workshop or on a hunt. While I didn’t want to be, the villagers began to treat me differently than the rest of the children. I suppose my ability to heal meant that in some respect the village was wrapped around my little finger. I was called Menshea and the name became a self-fulfilling prophecy. That way people could talk about my gift without mentioning it specifically in the wrong company.”

Ischarus stopped, and Charis paused in her own walk a step or two before him. She turned, expecting to find something wrong. Instead, she found Ischarus standing there with a look of deep thought on his face. He was even lightly chewing upon his lower lip as he thought.

Charis looked to him in curiosity. “Ischarus?” It was enough to bring him back to reality.

Ischarus replied with a question of his own. “You meant much to your people, didn’t you? And now that you have tasted freedom, your people mean even more to you than before.”

Charis nodded and responded in return. “Yes. I took them for granted before I met you three. I saw them as pawns and I saw myself as their Provenience. I saw myself as the mother of the next generation of mighty blood introduced into our community for the glory of our dragon father.”

She paused, turned around, and began walking once more while she continued her answer. “Now I am too late to appreciate what they sacrificed for me. Had you three not intervened, I would have sacrificed their trust without even knowing what they had been giving to me. Sure, I understood their goals. But I am still young. More than likely I would have been swayed by the power of my position and been unable to do what they hoped I could.”

Ischarus reached out a hand and rested it upon her shoulder from behind. “The name Provenience means origin or source. They expected you to be a source of their relief. There is no reason why that still cannot be true, perhaps even more so now than ever before.”

Charis nodded. It was her turn to be deep in thought. After a few more minutes of walking in silence they came upon Semeion and Rhema. Semeion embraced Charis with a hug, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around. He noticed that she did not receive the hug as emphatically as he had given it. “Charis? What’s wrong?”

Charis looked deeply into Semeion’s eyes and replied, “My people are oppressed even harder than before as the price for my freedom. But what’s worse is that Druff has made the true sacrifice. He’s tortured daily so that my people can exist.”

Much of the meaning of Charis’ words was lost on both Semeion and Rhema, who had not been there to experience the sight of the village. Before they could inquire further Ischarus continued the story. His hope was that the future might snap Charis out of her pondering. “Druff has been imprisoned in a cage similar to the one described by our ghostly friend as used in the goblin village. It must be a popular form of torture used frequently in Quehalost. On account of Druff’s condition, the village is even more turned against the oppression of their dragon father. Interestingly enough, Druff has ironically become the catalyst for change. The village may not listen to us, but apparently they will listen to Druff. We have reason to believe that Druff can speak to our side.”

Rhema looked pleased at the news, if not a bit confused by the mention of Druff’s change of heart. “Great! So we’ll use Druff. But can he be trusted?”

Semeion nodded with Rhema. “Agreed. If he’s truly changed we can trust him. But I remember the ferocity that he attacked you with the last time the two of you met, Ischarus. If it wasn’t for Rhema’s ability to charm him it might have been a different story being told here now.”

Charis snapped, the emotional outpouring of the day’s sights getting the best of her. “You didn’t see him in the cage, Semeion. You didn’t see how he has been tortured on my account!”

A single tear fell from Charis’ right eye, but the expression on her face told Semeion that this was not a tear of sorrow. It was a tear of anger. Semeion tried to reach out to her but she pushed him off. Semeion looked to Ischarus for support. He knew that he had been there to see what Charis had seen.

Ischarus picked up on Semeion’s look and replied. “With all due respect, Charis, we haven’t spoken with Druff. We need to hear what he has to say first.”

Rhema looked questioningly at Ischarus. “So you didn’t go into the village?”

Ischarus shook his head slowly. “We went to the edge of the village and met an old friend who knew Charis. She explained the past three months from her own perspective. We have arranged for a meeting tonight with the villagers. Well, actually the meeting is with as many heads of the families as we possibly can arrange. Charis’ friend seemed to believe that the easiest way of gaining the support of the villagers would be to let Druff speak at the meeting. That means that we’ll need to get Druff out of his locked hole and informed of our plan.”

Semeion smiled and brought his hands together in front of his face. The tip of his nose rested on his two middle fingers as he thought for a minute. “Of course, he’ll need to get back in as well. But it can be done. Get me close enough to that cage and it’ll be no problem.”

Semeion smiled as he was sure he had the answer. As he looked to Charis, he realized that his promise of freeing Druff had given her more to ease her pain than he could imagine. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed lightly. “Then it is possible. All we need to worry about is getting into the village at the appropriate time without my dragon father observing us.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus eventually caught up to Charis and in a whirling motion of intertwined bodies they tumbled to the ground. Fortunately for both of them neither of them landed on top of each other and the awkward moment of potential was avoided. Ischarus was the first one to stand up on his feet and he approached Charis with caution, fearing that she just might try and trip him. He reached out a hand and extended it to her as an offering of a sign of truce to get her onto her feet. He smiled as he spoke and his tone took a teasing position. “Now I caught you, so fess up. Where I come from Menshea is not a bad term, but it is definitely an unusual one. Menshea means something loosely translated to ‘Big Little Finger.’ I couldn’t help myself so I checked during that conversation. Your fingers aren’t oddly shaped at all. So there must be something about the name that I do not understand, right?”

Charis returned the smile and accepted Ischarus’ help up. “I suppose the name is not so much embarrassing as it is telling of my upbringing. It is a personal name given to me by my clan. Some people earn funny names while other people earn names that honestly reflect who they are. That is the case with me. I earned that name when I was little.”

Ischarus chuckled as he gestured to Charis indicating the direction that they had to travel to return to the party. “You used to have a big little finger but grew into it like a puppy who grows into their over-sized paws?”

Charis couldn’t help but laugh again at the suggestion. It showed some serious thought, but she knew he was headed down the wrong direction. “No, not quite. Have you ever heard it explained how a child has a parent wrapped around their little finger?”

Ischarus nodded as he pushed a branch out of the way. “Sure, it means that the child has learned how to manipulate a parent. Sometimes it means that they can make a certain face, or talk in a certain tone. Sometimes it means they just know when to ask. But yeah, I understand what you are getting at.”

Charis continued. “My people learned of my healing talent from almost day one. My mother recovered from my birth in record time. Her birth was nearly free from pain. Once I began to be able to walk I would occasionally heal people who might pick me up in the village. This fact was especially true if their scars and the like were visible. Once the elders of the village heard about my gift and saw it with their own eyes, they knew something had to be done immediately to protect me from our dragon father. It’s not that my dragon father would’ve killed me. Rather, he would have taken a keen interest in me and most likely corrupted my abilities. The elders of the village had other plans. Throughout the village I was given the name Menshea. The villagers had come to revere my gift and knew that I could help them if they got into trouble with the dragon father or even if an accident happened in a workshop or on a hunt. While I didn’t want to be, the villagers began to treat me differently than the rest of the children. I suppose my ability to heal meant that in some respect the village was wrapped around my little finger. I was called Menshea and the name became a self-fulfilling prophecy. That way people could talk about my gift without mentioning it specifically in the wrong company.”

Ischarus stopped, and Charis paused in her own walk a step or two before him. She turned, expecting to find something wrong. Instead, she found Ischarus standing there with a look of deep thought on his face. He was even lightly chewing upon his lower lip as he thought.

Charis looked to him in curiosity. “Ischarus?” It was enough to bring him back to reality.

Ischarus replied with a question of his own. “You meant much to your people, didn’t you? And now that you have tasted freedom, your people mean even more to you than before.”

Charis nodded and responded in return. “Yes. I took them for granted before I met you three. I saw them as pawns and I saw myself as their Provenience. I saw myself as the mother of the next generation of mighty blood introduced into our community for the glory of our dragon father.”

She paused, turned around, and began walking once more while she continued her answer. “Now I am too late to appreciate what they sacrificed for me. Had you three not intervened, I would have sacrificed their trust without even knowing what they had been giving to me. Sure, I understood their goals. But I am still young. More than likely I would have been swayed by the power of my position and been unable to do what they hoped I could.”

Ischarus reached out a hand and rested it upon her shoulder from behind. “The name Provenience means origin or source. They expected you to be a source of their relief. There is no reason why that still cannot be true, perhaps even more so now than ever before.”

Charis nodded. It was her turn to be deep in thought. After a few more minutes of walking in silence they came upon Semeion and Rhema. Semeion embraced Charis with a hug, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around. He noticed that she did not receive the hug as emphatically as he had given it. “Charis? What’s wrong?”

Charis looked deeply into Semeion’s eyes and replied, “My people are oppressed even harder than before as the price for my freedom. But what’s worse is that Druff has made the true sacrifice. He’s tortured daily so that my people can exist.”

Much of the meaning of Charis’ words was lost on both Semeion and Rhema, who had not been there to experience the sight of the village. Before they could inquire further Ischarus continued the story. His hope was that the future might snap Charis out of her pondering. “Druff has been imprisoned in a cage similar to the one described by our ghostly friend as used in the goblin village. It must be a popular form of torture used frequently in Quehalost. On account of Druff’s condition, the village is even more turned against the oppression of their dragon father. Interestingly enough, Druff has ironically become the catalyst for change. The village may not listen to us, but apparently they will listen to Druff. We have reason to believe that Druff can speak to our side.”

Rhema looked pleased at the news, if not a bit confused by the mention of Druff’s change of heart. “Great! So we’ll use Druff. But can he be trusted?”

Semeion nodded with Rhema. “Agreed. If he’s truly changed we can trust him. But I remember the ferocity that he attacked you with the last time the two of you met, Ischarus. If it wasn’t for Rhema’s ability to charm him it might have been a different story being told here now.”

Charis snapped, the emotional outpouring of the day’s sights getting the best of her. “You didn’t see him in the cage, Semeion. You didn’t see how he has been tortured on my account!”

A single tear fell from Charis’ right eye, but the expression on her face told Semeion that this was not a tear of sorrow. It was a tear of anger. Semeion tried to reach out to her but she pushed him off. Semeion looked to Ischarus for support. He knew that he had been there to see what Charis had seen.

Ischarus picked up on Semeion’s look and replied. “With all due respect, Charis, we haven’t spoken with Druff. We need to hear what he has to say first.”

Rhema looked questioningly at Ischarus. “So you didn’t go into the village?”

Ischarus shook his head slowly. “We went to the edge of the village and met an old friend who knew Charis. She explained the past three months from her own perspective. We have arranged for a meeting tonight with the villagers. Well, actually the meeting is with as many heads of the families as we possibly can arrange. Charis’ friend seemed to believe that the easiest way of gaining the support of the villagers would be to let Druff speak at the meeting. That means that we’ll need to get Druff out of his locked hole and informed of our plan.”

Semeion smiled and brought his hands together in front of his face. The tip of his nose rested on his two middle fingers as he thought for a minute. “Of course, he’ll need to get back in as well. But it can be done. Get me close enough to that cage and it’ll be no problem.”

Semeion smiled as he was sure he had the answer. As he looked to Charis, he realized that his promise of freeing Druff had given her more to ease her pain than he could imagine. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed lightly. “Then it is possible. All we need to worry about is getting into the village at the appropriate time without my dragon father observing us.”[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Nightfall came quick enough. Semeion had spent the afternoon studying his spell book and smiling often. He clearly had something interesting planned. He cracked his knuckles often as he contemplated the best approach to the dilemma.

Ischarus, Rhema, and even Charis spent the day scouting the nearby area. Charis showed Rhema the area of her dragon father’s cave and discussed the various methods of entry. When it was discovered that only an aerial entrance seemed to be possible, the light gray figure volunteered to scout out the area for the three figures. Charis also knew that Druff would know more than she would. Druff had been one of the father dragon’s most loyal supporters and met with the father dragon often. He would know more than anyone about how to get to the dragon.

The foursome crept near the village as the sun descended into the sky. The entire population of the village gathered around the flat stone altar. The geography of the gathering meant that ironically the people had to gather around Druff as he sat in his cage. As the sun touched the peak of the mountain in which the father dragon lived, the entire assembly of people bowed to the ground and touched their faces to the ground. Charis mimicked their behavior from among the underbrush and none of her friends tried to stop her. Ischarus and Semeion even looked on with deep interest in the ritual. They knew that rituals like this one only reinforce the hold of magic in the world. Only Rhema looked on with impatience. Rhema seemed rather disinterested in the euphoria that seemed to gather among the people as they waited for the sun to pass behind the peak. Instead, her eyes examined the mountain. She was still looking for some crevasse or path that they had missed from the other angles from which they had looked.

It only took the sun a matter of minutes to descend beneath the peak of the mountain. The sky was still bright with light, although in the direction of the mountain peak the horizon began to take on the reddish purple that always appeared before sunset. As Charis bowed with her head to the ground and Semeion and Ischarus looked over the villagers’ traditional ceremony used to close the day, Rhema saw movement at the lip of the dragon’s main entrance. A long neck appeared and shortly afterward a dragon form stood alone in plain sight.

Grixanthrosilithiss stood stoically upon his mountainous perch. Even from this distance the wyrm cast fear into Rhema’s heart, but she found that she was unable to force her glance away. Grixanthrosilithiss looked so regal, yet dangerous.

From above, the red wyrm looked down upon his village. All seemed typical from his position up above the village. The villagers bowed low to the ground as the sky turned red. Soon they would look up and see him as if the red in the sky was honoring him alone. In his own vanity Grixanthrosilithiss counted the villagers. With them bowed low to the ground and unmoving he was able to count them quite easily. He smiled as he counted that they were all present. He smiled even more as his glance passed over the small steel cage. Grixanthrosilithiss spoke softly to the mountain beside him, “Druff will be passing from the unbearable heat of the day to the chill of night shortly. I hope he enjoys the pain that his actions have brought upon him. One of these days I’ll get around to forgiving him. It is a good thing dragons have such long lives. Perhaps in a century or two it’ll make my priority list.” Grixanthrosilithiss chuckled at his own comment.

Grixanthrosilithiss didn’t see the four onlookers as they stood in the undergrowth at the forest edge, but Rhema did see him. She wasn’t able to avert her gaze as the villagers rose from the ground in unison. They had completed their evening meditation. They rose to their knees and looked up to the perch high up on the face of the mountain. They bowed their heads upon seeing Grixanthrosilithiss.

Xando new it was time to play the role of community leader. “Hail to our dragon father who provides for our every need.” His tone was flat and hollow.

The people responded in unison. “In his wisdom he has formed us, we live to serve him.” The response of the people matched the flatness and hollowness of Xando. It was spoken as if their life depended upon it not because any who spoke the words truly believed it. Even as Charis spoke the words, she spoke them flatly as one reciting a rote line and not one that contained any meaning.

Grixanthrosilithiss growled as his head sunk low. He could not hear the responses of the villagers. “Their faith has begun to fail them. Perhaps their bondage needs to be drawn more tightly once again. Perhaps tomorrow I will take their children from them until they work and worship with meaning.

There was suddenly another presence beside the dragon. “Indeed, dragon father. But what need have we for them? Together we have created a new line, a most pure line.”

A tall woman stepped forward and joined Grixanthrosilithiss on the lip of the mountainous perch. She had long legs and hair that descended down her back to her waist. As the sunset faded and the reddish purple pigment increased the red highlights of the woman’s hair, it glinted strongly as if it were on fire. She stood on the ledge and her hands caressed her abdomen. She was only a few months pregnant but already she could feel the strength of what was growing inside of her.

Grixanthrosilithiss continued to chuckle as his replacement Provenience had spoken. “Indeed. And when your people have finished making weapons and armor for my army led by our children, I will enjoy killing them all. I desire to grow fat off of their useless bodies.”

The woman looked down to the village below and remembered when she had been one of them. For anyone who was able to observe them, it would be clear that she was drunk off of his power. A scowl appeared on her face as she looked down on the villagers. “I cannot believe that my own family would turn against you, my dragon father. For turning their backs on you they don’t deserve to bask in your glory. Without your protection, even the lowly goblin tribes would swarm over them.”

Grixanthrosilithiss laughed audibly as his Provenience spoke. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe I will let the goblin tribe invade and dine on their bodies. Then I will get fat off of the goblin flesh. I could expand my territory and feast at the same time. I like how you think. I am glad I chose you to bear my future elite warriors.”

The woman leaned over the edge and looked down, realizing that her parents were no doubt among those now kneeling. In an act of defiance and disappointment she spat over the edge. Rather than watch any longer, the Provenience turned on her heels and walked back into the dragon’s lair.

Grixanthrosilithiss also looked down to the villagers. He had made him them kneel long enough. He turned around and strutted back into his lair. Once he disappeared from sight the villagers rose from their weary knees. Charis rose with them from among the undergrowth of the forest.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Nightfall came quick enough. Semeion had spent the afternoon studying his spell book and smiling often. He clearly had something interesting planned. He cracked his knuckles often as he contemplated the best approach to the dilemma.

Ischarus, Rhema, and even Charis spent the day scouting the nearby area. Charis showed Rhema the area of her dragon father’s cave and discussed the various methods of entry. When it was discovered that only an aerial entrance seemed to be possible, the light gray figure volunteered to scout out the area for the three figures. Charis also knew that Druff would know more than she would. Druff had been one of the father dragon’s most loyal supporters and met with the father dragon often. He would know more than anyone about how to get to the dragon.

The foursome crept near the village as the sun descended into the sky. The entire population of the village gathered around the flat stone altar. The geography of the gathering meant that ironically the people had to gather around Druff as he sat in his cage. As the sun touched the peak of the mountain in which the father dragon lived, the entire assembly of people bowed to the ground and touched their faces to the ground. Charis mimicked their behavior from among the underbrush and none of her friends tried to stop her. Ischarus and Semeion even looked on with deep interest in the ritual. They knew that rituals like this one only reinforce the hold of magic in the world. Only Rhema looked on with impatience. Rhema seemed rather disinterested in the euphoria that seemed to gather among the people as they waited for the sun to pass behind the peak. Instead, her eyes examined the mountain. She was still looking for some crevasse or path that they had missed from the other angles from which they had looked.

It only took the sun a matter of minutes to descend beneath the peak of the mountain. The sky was still bright with light, although in the direction of the mountain peak the horizon began to take on the reddish purple that always appeared before sunset. As Charis bowed with her head to the ground and Semeion and Ischarus looked over the villagers’ traditional ceremony used to close the day, Rhema saw movement at the lip of the dragon’s main entrance. A long neck appeared and shortly afterward a dragon form stood alone in plain sight.

Grixanthrosilithiss stood stoically upon his mountainous perch. Even from this distance the wyrm cast fear into Rhema’s heart, but she found that she was unable to force her glance away. Grixanthrosilithiss looked so regal, yet dangerous.

From above, the red wyrm looked down upon his village. All seemed typical from his position up above the village. The villagers bowed low to the ground as the sky turned red. Soon they would look up and see him as if the red in the sky was honoring him alone. In his own vanity Grixanthrosilithiss counted the villagers. With them bowed low to the ground and unmoving he was able to count them quite easily. He smiled as he counted that they were all present. He smiled even more as his glance passed over the small steel cage. Grixanthrosilithiss spoke softly to the mountain beside him, “Druff will be passing from the unbearable heat of the day to the chill of night shortly. I hope he enjoys the pain that his actions have brought upon him. One of these days I’ll get around to forgiving him. It is a good thing dragons have such long lives. Perhaps in a century or two it’ll make my priority list.” Grixanthrosilithiss chuckled at his own comment.

Grixanthrosilithiss didn’t see the four onlookers as they stood in the undergrowth at the forest edge, but Rhema did see him. She wasn’t able to avert her gaze as the villagers rose from the ground in unison. They had completed their evening meditation. They rose to their knees and looked up to the perch high up on the face of the mountain. They bowed their heads upon seeing Grixanthrosilithiss.

Xando new it was time to play the role of community leader. “Hail to our dragon father who provides for our every need.” His tone was flat and hollow.

The people responded in unison. “In his wisdom he has formed us, we live to serve him.” The response of the people matched the flatness and hollowness of Xando. It was spoken as if their life depended upon it not because any who spoke the words truly believed it. Even as Charis spoke the words, she spoke them flatly as one reciting a rote line and not one that contained any meaning.

Grixanthrosilithiss growled as his head sunk low. He could not hear the responses of the villagers. “Their faith has begun to fail them. Perhaps their bondage needs to be drawn more tightly once again. Perhaps tomorrow I will take their children from them until they work and worship with meaning.

There was suddenly another presence beside the dragon. “Indeed, dragon father. But what need have we for them? Together we have created a new line, a most pure line.”

A tall woman stepped forward and joined Grixanthrosilithiss on the lip of the mountainous perch. She had long legs and hair that descended down her back to her waist. As the sunset faded and the reddish purple pigment increased the red highlights of the woman’s hair, it glinted strongly as if it were on fire. She stood on the ledge and her hands caressed her abdomen. She was only a few months pregnant but already she could feel the strength of what was growing inside of her.

Grixanthrosilithiss continued to chuckle as his replacement Provenience had spoken. “Indeed. And when your people have finished making weapons and armor for my army led by our children, I will enjoy killing them all. I desire to grow fat off of their useless bodies.”

The woman looked down to the village below and remembered when she had been one of them. For anyone who was able to observe them, it would be clear that she was drunk off of his power. A scowl appeared on her face as she looked down on the villagers. “I cannot believe that my own family would turn against you, my dragon father. For turning their backs on you they don’t deserve to bask in your glory. Without your protection, even the lowly goblin tribes would swarm over them.”

Grixanthrosilithiss laughed audibly as his Provenience spoke. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe I will let the goblin tribe invade and dine on their bodies. Then I will get fat off of the goblin flesh. I could expand my territory and feast at the same time. I like how you think. I am glad I chose you to bear my future elite warriors.”

The woman leaned over the edge and looked down, realizing that her parents were no doubt among those now kneeling. In an act of defiance and disappointment she spat over the edge. Rather than watch any longer, the Provenience turned on her heels and walked back into the dragon’s lair.

Grixanthrosilithiss also looked down to the villagers. He had made him them kneel long enough. He turned around and strutted back into his lair. Once he disappeared from sight the villagers rose from their weary knees. Charis rose with them from among the undergrowth of the forest.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

As the villagers rose, some went about bringing forth firewood and other means for kindling. Charis turned to her friends and explained the action. “Having finished worshipped the dragon father they are now into their free time. Each morning begins with the ritual worship as the sun rises. Once that ritual is complete, the people work in labor to the dragon father. If they desire to eat, they must bring food with them and eat as they work. The descending of the sun releases them from their day of service. Now is their time to eat heartily, commune with the tribe, and sleep. They will do none of that once the sun rises again.”

Ischarus smiled. “They will do more eating and communing in a few days, Charis. I swear by it. At least I will die trying to make that a reality.” Charis returned his smile.

A voice called out from among the villagers. “You will join us for the pig?” It was Xando who spoke. As he spoke into the edge of the forest he smiled broadly.

Semeion and Rhema were startled. They hadn’t met Xando earlier and were unsure as to whether being seen was a good thing or a bad thing. They were especially wary of anyone who potentially revealed their position to the dragon father.

Semeion cautioned the party before anyone could respond. “Careful, we don’t know if the dragon father is watching.”

Rhema answered Semeion’s challenge. “I watched the dragon father return to his lair. He’s not watching any more.”

Semeion replied back to Rhema specifically. “And you assume that the dragon father does not watch his tribe with magic? There are many forms of second sight that are practically immune to detection.”

Xando interrupted the internal debate. “I will bring you clothing so that you may look like us. Our father dragon knows our number, but he does not know us as intimately by face as he knows his own treasure. Now that we are moving about, he cannot keep count of all of us.” Xando left no room for objection and made it clear by his tone that acceptance was assumed. He spun on his heel and quickly turned to enter his simple home.

After only a few minutes he returned with four sets of clothing. “My wife was pleased to hear of your efforts to free Druff if only for an evening. If you can do that much you will be heroes among my people tonight. Our people will honor you and they will listen to Druff. If you have a plan, the more of it you can sell to Druff and have him explain the more of it our people will accept without argument. Now come, put these on and enter our feast.”

As the foursome were putting the simple robes of the villagers over their own clothes, the light gray figure arrived in their midst. It was growing dark, so the figure was intentional about revealing himself before beginning to speak. “I believe it can work, assuming that you all are willing to split up.”

Ischarus offered a sideways glance to the figure. Semeion beat him to the punch as far as inquiry, however. “What have you learned? Tell us that and I’ll tell you whether or we’ll consider splitting up.”

The ghostly figure offered a simple smile and continued his explanation. “Well, for starters I am a ghost. The dragon cannot kill me. The dragon can destroy this hollow shell, but that has been destroyed in the past. Each time I am destroyed by weapons made on this world I hope for ultimate death and passing into the next life. Each time it never comes. Instead, it is as if I awaken from a sleep the next morning and find myself standing next to the slab upon which I was burned. So I do not fear the dragon’s power. While his magic is no doubt impressive, I doubt he will be prepared to have the magic necessary to deal with me on those kinds of terms.”

The figure paused as if it needed to catch its breath. The party knew by now that the figure did not need to breathe and rather it was a mere convention held over from the residual consciousness of the light gray figure. His mind was trained to need a breath and thus he paused.

Rhema couldn’t help but laugh at the ineffective inhalation that the light gray figure presented. “Go on then. I think I know where you are leading and if so I like what you are thinking.”

The figure nodded. “Indeed you should. I’ve noticed that you have the most interest in getting a look at the dragon’s cave and removing a particular item. But what I propose is that we use the dragon’s greed against him. He can move faster than I can, but I have a much greater maneuverability. Being a ghost has those kinds of advantages. I can turn immediately without worrying of things like momentum and trees. The dragon will not be so lucky. I visited his lair today without his knowing it. It will be no matter at all for me to steal a piece of his treasure and escape with a short lead. The dragon will follow. I think we all know of the greed of this dragon.”

Ischarus smiled brightly. “Ah, yes. Bless him for being a red! Greed will consume all and the treasure that you take will be the greatest offense he could imagine.”

The light gray figure snapped his fingers together and then pointed to Ischarus. There was no sound coming from the transparent fingers as they snapped. The figure looked a bit on the disappointed side but continued in his plan anyway. “When the dragon follows me, all I have to do is give him a big enough chase to give you time to steal into the lair.”

Rhema smiled. “Yes. This is where I was hoping that you were headed. I like this plan so far. No offense, but it puts the dragon in a position of doing harm only to one that cannot be destroyed by it. That is my favorite kind of plan.”

Charis nodded. “Additionally, it means that we need not all be present in the cave. I could stay here and lead my people away quickly. If we even had an hour to move we could be in the tunnels and on our way to Quehalost. Two hours and we could be in the tunnels with provisions.”

Ischarus smiled as if he were enjoying the plan. “I will stay here and help you move the people, Charis. You are of them, and I am easily recognizable by these people as a cousin to their own kind. And actually, there is no reason we couldn’t start establishing a stockpile of supplies at the tunnel entrance. If we worked under the cover of night for a day or two, we could amass enough for your village to live on for a few weeks underground.”

Rhema nodded, “Good, because once the dragon finds that a young one has been removed from his lair and his village has been stolen from under his watchful eye I don’t imagine the mountain will stop him. He’ll know the entrance we used and will likely know the exit. We may need to stay in the mountain for a long time.

Ischarus nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed.”

Semeion added, “I’d like to go with Rhema. I’ll be of little use here in the village. They’ll listen to Druff and you two far before me. Besides, with my knowledge of the arcane I might be of some use in the dragon’s cave.”

Ischarus nodded again. Charis gave Semeion a worried look but only spoke words of encouragement. “Be careful when you go.”

Xando called out from the edge of the forest. There was a definite sense of impatience in his voice. “Well, are you coming? Certainly you’ve changed by now! And by all means, keep your hoods up.”

Charis breathed deeply and smiled. “It will be good to be among my people again, although Xando is right. We should not reveal ourselves before the meeting, especially me. Semeion, you are still getting Druff out of his cage and back in again?”

Semeion smiled with a thoughtful look of pleasure on his face. “But of course!”

Charis returned his smile. “Well then. I suggest that you be the only one to pay Druff any attention. Explain our plan to him. When the food is eaten, the people will go to their homes. As they go, do your thing towards the end. Try not to be seen, but do not wait too long. As the crowd thins, you will be more visible if my dragon father is watching.”

Semeion nodded and rose to his feet. “Good. You say this man’s name is Xando and he can be trusted?”

Charis was the only one who nodded. She gave Semeion a look that encouraged him to be careful. Semeion only replied with a smile and stepped past her in the direction of Xando. From where they sat, they could hear Semeion engage Xando in conversation.

As the mage approached the leader of the Drakontai village, he spoke softly in order to keep the subject of the conversation private. “So, you must be Xando. Tell me, could you very discretely lead me around the village and end up beside Druff? It seems I’d like to have a few words with him.” The party couldn’t see it, but Xando smiled brilliantly. Semeion was led away and spent much of the next two hours talking with his one time enemy in Druff.

The trio remaining behind within the forest left the light gray figure to stand in the woods alone. They entered the village together. The trio huddled amongst each other for the large majority of the night. As they stood among the people, Charis gradually explained her life and the duties of the people. They ate when the pig had been sliced and then roasted properly. Although they tried to refrain from looking in Semeion’s direction to long, each of them couldn’t help but wonder at how their messenger was making out in his conversation with Druff.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
As the villagers rose, some went about bringing forth firewood and other means for kindling. Charis turned to her friends and explained the action. “Having finished worshipped the dragon father they are now into their free time. Each morning begins with the ritual worship as the sun rises. Once that ritual is complete, the people work in labor to the dragon father. If they desire to eat, they must bring food with them and eat as they work. The descending of the sun releases them from their day of service. Now is their time to eat heartily, commune with the tribe, and sleep. They will do none of that once the sun rises again.”

Ischarus smiled. “They will do more eating and communing in a few days, Charis. I swear by it. At least I will die trying to make that a reality.” Charis returned his smile.

A voice called out from among the villagers. “You will join us for the pig?” It was Xando who spoke. As he spoke into the edge of the forest he smiled broadly.

Semeion and Rhema were startled. They hadn’t met Xando earlier and were unsure as to whether being seen was a good thing or a bad thing. They were especially wary of anyone who potentially revealed their position to the dragon father.

Semeion cautioned the party before anyone could respond. “Careful, we don’t know if the dragon father is watching.”

Rhema answered Semeion’s challenge. “I watched the dragon father return to his lair. He’s not watching any more.”

Semeion replied back to Rhema specifically. “And you assume that the dragon father does not watch his tribe with magic? There are many forms of second sight that are practically immune to detection.”

Xando interrupted the internal debate. “I will bring you clothing so that you may look like us. Our father dragon knows our number, but he does not know us as intimately by face as he knows his own treasure. Now that we are moving about, he cannot keep count of all of us.” Xando left no room for objection and made it clear by his tone that acceptance was assumed. He spun on his heel and quickly turned to enter his simple home.

After only a few minutes he returned with four sets of clothing. “My wife was pleased to hear of your efforts to free Druff if only for an evening. If you can do that much you will be heroes among my people tonight. Our people will honor you and they will listen to Druff. If you have a plan, the more of it you can sell to Druff and have him explain the more of it our people will accept without argument. Now come, put these on and enter our feast.”

As the foursome were putting the simple robes of the villagers over their own clothes, the light gray figure arrived in their midst. It was growing dark, so the figure was intentional about revealing himself before beginning to speak. “I believe it can work, assuming that you all are willing to split up.”

Ischarus offered a sideways glance to the figure. Semeion beat him to the punch as far as inquiry, however. “What have you learned? Tell us that and I’ll tell you whether or we’ll consider splitting up.”

The ghostly figure offered a simple smile and continued his explanation. “Well, for starters I am a ghost. The dragon cannot kill me. The dragon can destroy this hollow shell, but that has been destroyed in the past. Each time I am destroyed by weapons made on this world I hope for ultimate death and passing into the next life. Each time it never comes. Instead, it is as if I awaken from a sleep the next morning and find myself standing next to the slab upon which I was burned. So I do not fear the dragon’s power. While his magic is no doubt impressive, I doubt he will be prepared to have the magic necessary to deal with me on those kinds of terms.”

The figure paused as if it needed to catch its breath. The party knew by now that the figure did not need to breathe and rather it was a mere convention held over from the residual consciousness of the light gray figure. His mind was trained to need a breath and thus he paused.

Rhema couldn’t help but laugh at the ineffective inhalation that the light gray figure presented. “Go on then. I think I know where you are leading and if so I like what you are thinking.”

The figure nodded. “Indeed you should. I’ve noticed that you have the most interest in getting a look at the dragon’s cave and removing a particular item. But what I propose is that we use the dragon’s greed against him. He can move faster than I can, but I have a much greater maneuverability. Being a ghost has those kinds of advantages. I can turn immediately without worrying of things like momentum and trees. The dragon will not be so lucky. I visited his lair today without his knowing it. It will be no matter at all for me to steal a piece of his treasure and escape with a short lead. The dragon will follow. I think we all know of the greed of this dragon.”

Ischarus smiled brightly. “Ah, yes. Bless him for being a red! Greed will consume all and the treasure that you take will be the greatest offense he could imagine.”

The light gray figure snapped his fingers together and then pointed to Ischarus. There was no sound coming from the transparent fingers as they snapped. The figure looked a bit on the disappointed side but continued in his plan anyway. “When the dragon follows me, all I have to do is give him a big enough chase to give you time to steal into the lair.”

Rhema smiled. “Yes. This is where I was hoping that you were headed. I like this plan so far. No offense, but it puts the dragon in a position of doing harm only to one that cannot be destroyed by it. That is my favorite kind of plan.”

Charis nodded. “Additionally, it means that we need not all be present in the cave. I could stay here and lead my people away quickly. If we even had an hour to move we could be in the tunnels and on our way to Quehalost. Two hours and we could be in the tunnels with provisions.”

Ischarus smiled as if he were enjoying the plan. “I will stay here and help you move the people, Charis. You are of them, and I am easily recognizable by these people as a cousin to their own kind. And actually, there is no reason we couldn’t start establishing a stockpile of supplies at the tunnel entrance. If we worked under the cover of night for a day or two, we could amass enough for your village to live on for a few weeks underground.”

Rhema nodded, “Good, because once the dragon finds that a young one has been removed from his lair and his village has been stolen from under his watchful eye I don’t imagine the mountain will stop him. He’ll know the entrance we used and will likely know the exit. We may need to stay in the mountain for a long time.

Ischarus nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed.”

Semeion added, “I’d like to go with Rhema. I’ll be of little use here in the village. They’ll listen to Druff and you two far before me. Besides, with my knowledge of the arcane I might be of some use in the dragon’s cave.”

Ischarus nodded again. Charis gave Semeion a worried look but only spoke words of encouragement. “Be careful when you go.”

Xando called out from the edge of the forest. There was a definite sense of impatience in his voice. “Well, are you coming? Certainly you’ve changed by now! And by all means, keep your hoods up.”

Charis breathed deeply and smiled. “It will be good to be among my people again, although Xando is right. We should not reveal ourselves before the meeting, especially me. Semeion, you are still getting Druff out of his cage and back in again?”

Semeion smiled with a thoughtful look of pleasure on his face. “But of course!”

Charis returned his smile. “Well then. I suggest that you be the only one to pay Druff any attention. Explain our plan to him. When the food is eaten, the people will go to their homes. As they go, do your thing towards the end. Try not to be seen, but do not wait too long. As the crowd thins, you will be more visible if my dragon father is watching.”

Semeion nodded and rose to his feet. “Good. You say this man’s name is Xando and he can be trusted?”

Charis was the only one who nodded. She gave Semeion a look that encouraged him to be careful. Semeion only replied with a smile and stepped past her in the direction of Xando. From where they sat, they could hear Semeion engage Xando in conversation.

As the mage approached the leader of the Drakontai village, he spoke softly in order to keep the subject of the conversation private. “So, you must be Xando. Tell me, could you very discretely lead me around the village and end up beside Druff? It seems I’d like to have a few words with him.” The party couldn’t see it, but Xando smiled brilliantly. Semeion was led away and spent much of the next two hours talking with his one time enemy in Druff.

The trio remaining behind within the forest left the light gray figure to stand in the woods alone. They entered the village together. The trio huddled amongst each other for the large majority of the night. As they stood among the people, Charis gradually explained her life and the duties of the people. They ate when the pig had been sliced and then roasted properly. Although they tried to refrain from looking in Semeion’s direction to long, each of them couldn’t help but wonder at how their messenger was making out in his conversation with Druff.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

After a time of eating and hurried fellowship among the community, the villagers began to disappear into their primitive homes. Xando nodded to Charis from across the flames that still leapt up as if in a mad frenzied attempt to lick the stars. Charis received the nod and mentally flashed back to her life within the village from only a few months ago.

A few moments later she turned back to Ischarus and with a wordless look had his attention. Charis turned her head to one of the primitive wood and sod constructions and nodded. “Xando is retiring. I think it is probably a good idea that we follow him individually and not as a group. Ischarus should go first and make sure that everything is ready. Watch as the people come into the building. We’ve been well received so far, but I can’t help but believe that there has to be a few in the village that would prefer to betray us to win the favor of my father dragon. Even though he is a tyrant, there are those that only care about evading his wrath. A few in this village would even do so at the expense of their own village.”

Ischarus walked past Semeion on his way to Xando’s home. As he did, Ischarus looked into the cage at the poor man who was present. Druff was in such obvious discomfort and from this distance Ischarus could hardly believe this was the same man that had opposed him so efficiently a few months back. As he passed by, he gave a nod of honor in the direction of Druff.

Charis turned to Rhema once Ischarus had departed. “Rhema, follow him shortly and work with the crowd that is gathering in Xando’s home. Don’t be afraid to use your methods of attraction and your charming personality. Xando and I can make anything seem natural. Besides, from what I understand we simply need to make sure nothing happens until Druff arrives.”

Rhema nodded without replying. She scouted out another path to use to get to Xando’s home. Once Ischarus was inside Rhema departed. Semeion turned to scout out Charis, noticing that the crowd was beginning to thin. Charis caught his eye and gave him a simple smile. That was all that was needed to be reassured that the plan was going well.

Semeion’s hand slipped out of the end of his sleeve and he raised it just outside the bars. The frail hand of Druff reached out for a brief second and Semeion softly chanted the magical words which would unlock the desired power. “Su-ah Skrie-tok” Once Semeion had run through the chant a few times Druff began to feel the magic at work inside. Semeion quickly nodded and Druff removed his hand before the dark gray magical light that was enveloping him could be seen from outside the cage.

Druff’s body began to shrink inside the cage. Slowly he was reduced to half his regular size. A brief smile came over his face as he realized that his six foot frame was now only three feet tall. He rose to his feet unsteadily and discovered that he was easily able to stand within the confines of the cage. He stretched, curling his arms over his head and snapping the kinks out of his neck.

Semeion looked pleased to see Druff’s burden relieved even if for so short a time. “Come, Druff. The spell will only work for a few minutes. We must have you inside Xando’s home before it wears off. Otherwise the magical energy will be detectable by sight if your dragon father is watching.”

Druff nodded and ended his stretch prematurely. “Very well, let’s go then.” He slipped through the bars of the cage. It was still a tight fit, but he managed to do it without much difficulty. The cage only swayed briefly before Semeion casually reach out to hold it steady. In a second Druff had jumped to the ground and slipped inside Semeion’s robe. The magically shortened figure clung to Druff’s waist and his body draped itself along Semeion’s right leg. Druff stood on the top of Semeion’s foot so that as Semeion walked Druff’s own feet could not be seen.

Rhema climbed the steps to Xando’s home. As she slipped inside, she could see that Semeion was quickly making his way for the home. He took the most direct route possible knowing that the magic would not last long. She slipped inside and waited for the sound of Semeion climbing the steps. When she heard the sound of his feet laboring to move under the added weight, she cautiously opened the door and allowed Semeion to enter with his pint sized baggage. Once inside, Druff emerged from Semeion’s cloak.

Rhema and Ischarus were both surprised to see Druff come out so small. They weren’t sure what exactly Semeion was planning, but somehow this was not what they expected. The few villagers who had already been gathered into the home gasped with wide-eyed terror. They clamored for an explanation in outrage.

Druff raised his hands. It was a move that he typically made to get people’s attention, but now he was small enough for it to only be seen by those immediately present. Xando was more able to draw their attention and bring them to silence. Yet before Druff could speak the magical dark gray energy surrounded him once more and he began to expand. In a matter of seconds he reverted back to his original size. He naturally hunched over due to spending so much time in the cage.

The door to the outside opened once more and Charis came in. She was quickly followed by several villagers. Ischarus quickly allowed the villagers in and then examined them for hidden weapons. Finding none, he admitted them into the room. This procedure happened frequently over the next half hour. One or two villagers would discretely come to the door and almost magically be sucked inside out of view from above. The fire had begun to die and the sun was now completely gone from the sky. Visibility was more and more difficult and this allowed the villagers to feel confident about gathering.

Once they were all present, Xando rose to his feet and helped Druff to stand. “Friends,” Xando began, using the voice that he had often use to speak to crowds, “You all know of the sacrifice that Druff bears for our village. We live in freedom because he is enslaved. But if you are courageous we can all be free – especially Druff.”

Most of the villagers looked over to the Charis and her three friends with suspicion. One villager interrupted Xando and yelled, “We tried this before, and most of us were captured or left for dead. We have no desire to increase the brutality of our enslavement!”

Druff smiled underneath his long greasy hair. He reached up a hand to pull back the bangs so that his scarred face could be seen and his smile exposed. “Timmon, friend. I know you are merely looking out for what is best for your family. But the escape before was unplanned. It was a spur of the moment decision and in truth our escape was simply a means to provide an escape route for our Provenience. It was the best that could be done at the time because the pieces necessary to successfully leave were not in place. Too many of us wanted to live under the father dragon to be convinced to leave reasonably. Too many of us, myself included, had not seen the cruelty of our father dragon for what it truly is. Plans simply could not have been made because we would not have been willing to listen. Rather, we would have told on those who would seek to free us in an attempt to impress our father dragon. Now that is not the case.”

Timmon looked to the floor, unwilling to counter Druff’s speech. Another man spoke up, “How do we know we can trust them? They left us for dead before!”

Druff smiled again, and he began to rock back and forth as his legs grew tired from standing. Xando offered an arm of support to Druff but the weary leader of his people refused politely. “Andrus, what you say is true. But the elders of our people knew what they were doing when they chose the Provenience. They knew she was filled with compassion. These four need not have come back into this land to risk their lives. We did not even ask them too. In fact, several of our father dragon’s warriors were sent forth with a mission to kill the Provenience and anyone that got in their way. By all rights, they should have stayed away in their own freedom. But the Provenience could not stay away from her people. She has come to bring healing to our people. Not in the way that our elders planned before, of course. She has come to bring permanent healing to our people. Before, these people came to disrupt our dragon father’s cycle of reproducing warriors through our Provenience. This time they have come with the freedom of the whole village as their goal.”

Druff’s voice slowed and he spoke with a slow rhythm that occasionally sounded more like a gasp of air than an actual attempt to speak. The villagers seemed to have no trouble understanding him. Charis, Rhema, Ischarus, and Semeion each had to strain to make out his words. For the moment, the villagers seemed quite captured by his words and belief in the plan for freedom.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
After a time of eating and hurried fellowship among the community, the villagers began to disappear into their primitive homes. Xando nodded to Charis from across the flames that still leapt up as if in a mad frenzied attempt to lick the stars. Charis received the nod and mentally flashed back to her life within the village from only a few months ago.

A few moments later she turned back to Ischarus and with a wordless look had his attention. Charis turned her head to one of the primitive wood and sod constructions and nodded. “Xando is retiring. I think it is probably a good idea that we follow him individually and not as a group. Ischarus should go first and make sure that everything is ready. Watch as the people come into the building. We’ve been well received so far, but I can’t help but believe that there has to be a few in the village that would prefer to betray us to win the favor of my father dragon. Even though he is a tyrant, there are those that only care about evading his wrath. A few in this village would even do so at the expense of their own village.”

Ischarus walked past Semeion on his way to Xando’s home. As he did, Ischarus looked into the cage at the poor man who was present. Druff was in such obvious discomfort and from this distance Ischarus could hardly believe this was the same man that had opposed him so efficiently a few months back. As he passed by, he gave a nod of honor in the direction of Druff.

Charis turned to Rhema once Ischarus had departed. “Rhema, follow him shortly and work with the crowd that is gathering in Xando’s home. Don’t be afraid to use your methods of attraction and your charming personality. Xando and I can make anything seem natural. Besides, from what I understand we simply need to make sure nothing happens until Druff arrives.”

Rhema nodded without replying. She scouted out another path to use to get to Xando’s home. Once Ischarus was inside Rhema departed. Semeion turned to scout out Charis, noticing that the crowd was beginning to thin. Charis caught his eye and gave him a simple smile. That was all that was needed to be reassured that the plan was going well.

Semeion’s hand slipped out of the end of his sleeve and he raised it just outside the bars. The frail hand of Druff reached out for a brief second and Semeion softly chanted the magical words which would unlock the desired power. “Su-ah Skrie-tok” Once Semeion had run through the chant a few times Druff began to feel the magic at work inside. Semeion quickly nodded and Druff removed his hand before the dark gray magical light that was enveloping him could be seen from outside the cage.

Druff’s body began to shrink inside the cage. Slowly he was reduced to half his regular size. A brief smile came over his face as he realized that his six foot frame was now only three feet tall. He rose to his feet unsteadily and discovered that he was easily able to stand within the confines of the cage. He stretched, curling his arms over his head and snapping the kinks out of his neck.

Semeion looked pleased to see Druff’s burden relieved even if for so short a time. “Come, Druff. The spell will only work for a few minutes. We must have you inside Xando’s home before it wears off. Otherwise the magical energy will be detectable by sight if your dragon father is watching.”

Druff nodded and ended his stretch prematurely. “Very well, let’s go then.” He slipped through the bars of the cage. It was still a tight fit, but he managed to do it without much difficulty. The cage only swayed briefly before Semeion casually reach out to hold it steady. In a second Druff had jumped to the ground and slipped inside Semeion’s robe. The magically shortened figure clung to Druff’s waist and his body draped itself along Semeion’s right leg. Druff stood on the top of Semeion’s foot so that as Semeion walked Druff’s own feet could not be seen.

Rhema climbed the steps to Xando’s home. As she slipped inside, she could see that Semeion was quickly making his way for the home. He took the most direct route possible knowing that the magic would not last long. She slipped inside and waited for the sound of Semeion climbing the steps. When she heard the sound of his feet laboring to move under the added weight, she cautiously opened the door and allowed Semeion to enter with his pint sized baggage. Once inside, Druff emerged from Semeion’s cloak.

Rhema and Ischarus were both surprised to see Druff come out so small. They weren’t sure what exactly Semeion was planning, but somehow this was not what they expected. The few villagers who had already been gathered into the home gasped with wide-eyed terror. They clamored for an explanation in outrage.

Druff raised his hands. It was a move that he typically made to get people’s attention, but now he was small enough for it to only be seen by those immediately present. Xando was more able to draw their attention and bring them to silence. Yet before Druff could speak the magical dark gray energy surrounded him once more and he began to expand. In a matter of seconds he reverted back to his original size. He naturally hunched over due to spending so much time in the cage.

The door to the outside opened once more and Charis came in. She was quickly followed by several villagers. Ischarus quickly allowed the villagers in and then examined them for hidden weapons. Finding none, he admitted them into the room. This procedure happened frequently over the next half hour. One or two villagers would discretely come to the door and almost magically be sucked inside out of view from above. The fire had begun to die and the sun was now completely gone from the sky. Visibility was more and more difficult and this allowed the villagers to feel confident about gathering.

Once they were all present, Xando rose to his feet and helped Druff to stand. “Friends,” Xando began, using the voice that he had often use to speak to crowds, “You all know of the sacrifice that Druff bears for our village. We live in freedom because he is enslaved. But if you are courageous we can all be free – especially Druff.”

Most of the villagers looked over to the Charis and her three friends with suspicion. One villager interrupted Xando and yelled, “We tried this before, and most of us were captured or left for dead. We have no desire to increase the brutality of our enslavement!”

Druff smiled underneath his long greasy hair. He reached up a hand to pull back the bangs so that his scarred face could be seen and his smile exposed. “Timmon, friend. I know you are merely looking out for what is best for your family. But the escape before was unplanned. It was a spur of the moment decision and in truth our escape was simply a means to provide an escape route for our Provenience. It was the best that could be done at the time because the pieces necessary to successfully leave were not in place. Too many of us wanted to live under the father dragon to be convinced to leave reasonably. Too many of us, myself included, had not seen the cruelty of our father dragon for what it truly is. Plans simply could not have been made because we would not have been willing to listen. Rather, we would have told on those who would seek to free us in an attempt to impress our father dragon. Now that is not the case.”

Timmon looked to the floor, unwilling to counter Druff’s speech. Another man spoke up, “How do we know we can trust them? They left us for dead before!”

Druff smiled again, and he began to rock back and forth as his legs grew tired from standing. Xando offered an arm of support to Druff but the weary leader of his people refused politely. “Andrus, what you say is true. But the elders of our people knew what they were doing when they chose the Provenience. They knew she was filled with compassion. These four need not have come back into this land to risk their lives. We did not even ask them too. In fact, several of our father dragon’s warriors were sent forth with a mission to kill the Provenience and anyone that got in their way. By all rights, they should have stayed away in their own freedom. But the Provenience could not stay away from her people. She has come to bring healing to our people. Not in the way that our elders planned before, of course. She has come to bring permanent healing to our people. Before, these people came to disrupt our dragon father’s cycle of reproducing warriors through our Provenience. This time they have come with the freedom of the whole village as their goal.”

Druff’s voice slowed and he spoke with a slow rhythm that occasionally sounded more like a gasp of air than an actual attempt to speak. The villagers seemed to have no trouble understanding him. Charis, Rhema, Ischarus, and Semeion each had to strain to make out his words. For the moment, the villagers seemed quite captured by his words and belief in the plan for freedom.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Eleven: PARTY DUBIETY

A middle aged man stepped to the front of the group gathered in Xando’s home and prepared to sternly speak his mind. As he did, he glared deep into Charis’ eyes with hatred. “And what of my daughter?” He extended a finger towards Charis and stepped forward menacingly. Ischarus instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his long sword and drew it an inch out of its scabbard.

Druff held up a weak hand for Ischarus to stop. His raspy voice continued out of his mouth, “Let the man speak, Ischarus.”

The angry man continued, “You were supposed to be the Provenience. Your gifts would have made our lives better. My daughter had to take your place while you ran. She now lives in that cave, impregnated by the seed of our father. What will she do when we all leave? The dragon father will likely slaughter her out of his rage against us!”

Ischarus breathed deeply and replied before Charis could properly respond. “Do you not know what fate rests for any provenience of an evil dragon, especially of a red?” A thick silence hung in the air. The gathering waited to see if Ischarus would finish what he started. “Your daughter will be bred until her body can take no more seed. Then in a great sacrifice that you have all been brainwashed into honoring, she will likely be consumed by fire and most likely eaten. Is that what you want for your daughter? Would you have her consumed while you idly go about you and your people’s tormented lives?”

Several of the men gasped at the straightforward approach that Ischarus took. He had been bold and proclaimed the truth of the event while treading upon the whole sacred symbolism and exaltation that would come to the Provenience. In their minds, she was to be praised for being the one to nourish the dragon father since he had provided his biological seed. Ischarus had stripped the glory of the ritual down and removed the symbolic greatness that supposedly existed in the celebration. The middle-aged man locked eyes with Ischarus and they began to stare one another down. Both men refused to break their gaze.

Charis stepped forward, but kept herself slightly behind Ischarus’ right shoulder. “I know what you are saying and I would have preferred it to have been me to take her place. But things cannot be that way again. My friends have come along and shown me the better path. Now we have all come back to show you all a better path. We have come to show you a path in which your talents are appreciated rather than abused. If you stay here, there is only death waiting for you. You are being worked to the bone and slowly dying. You will die prematurely under the strict labor that our dragon father has for you. Is that the life you would wish on anyone? Is it really worth the assumed glory that the celebration brings? Or is it perhaps that you wish she had not been selected in the first place? If you could, would you desire her to be stripped from her position even now?”

The man broke his gaze with Ischarus and shot a hurt glance at Charis. “What would you know of it? You were unable to complete what had been asked of you.”

Ischarus began to speak again but Druff silenced him with another hand gesture. Ischarus could see in Druff’s face that this was not a time to get involved. This battle was to be fought between the Provenience who was taken and the man whose daughter was forced to take her place.

Charis replied, “I was strapped to the stone and scorched under the sun until my skin burned and I was delirious. I offered myself completely and wholly on that day. You and I both know that if our dragon father was not so greedy in demanding a display of suffering that I would have been long gone before my new friends arrived and took me kicking and screaming from that altar. If our dragon father had an ounce of mercy in his bones he would have accepted the offering without forcing me – and your daughter – to suffer. That is simply evil at its worst. I cannot in good conscience begin to support it or even pretend it doesn’t exist. That is all it is, pure and simple. It is pure evil.”

Semeion added, “And it is an evil that we can save you from.”

The man whose daughter carried the unborn draconic children of the father dragon cast a menacing glance to Semeion. Druff cast a silencing glance to Semeion, but Rhema would not be silenced so easily as her male counterparts. She smiled as she focused her mind on the man. “Would you be appeased if I promised to bring her safely from his lair?”

A murmur shot through those in attendance. Even Charis and Ischarus were amazed to here Rhema make such a statement. Ischarus was able to detect the tone Rhema was using. It was the tone that meant she was trying to charm the man and calm down his emotions. Yet the claim still seemed to be outrageous.

It was enough to dislodge the man from his anger. “You can make such a promise?” he stammered. He had clearly been caught off-guard by the radical assertion.

Ischarus also turned around and looked to Rhema. “Rhema, the new Provenience is going to be enthralled by the draconic presence. There’s no way that you can overcome that. Plus, the father dragon will pursue us only harder if we take both his future generals in addition to the villagers. By taking the Provenience and all the villagers we take his ability to breed completely away. He’ll know that hunting us down will be easier than starting completely over from scratch. You can’t possibly think that such a plan is possible!”

Rhema merely smiled as Ischarus spoke and focused back on the man. “Not only will I make such a promise, but I will die trying to fulfill it if necessary. If you promise to be there when I bring her to you so that you can restrain her, I promise to bring her. She’ll not want to come willingly. I think you know that.”

A smile passed over Charis lips as Rhema spoke. She glanced to Semeion as her mind drifted back in memory. “She’ll be more resistant than I was. I was brainwashed and delirious from the sun. She’ll not only be enthralled but also be carrying her future away from its place of glory every step of the way.

The man who had challenged Charis caught her eyes and for a second they shared a sympathetic look. “What you speak is madness!” he exclaimed.

A thin raspy voice broke through the commotion. As everyone heard Druff try to speak, they were immediately silenced. “It is not impossible. How many of you thought we would again see the Provenience who was stolen from us? Yet here she is. How many of you thought we would taste freedom once our dragon father gathered us in from our hiding? Yet here we are. How many of you have ever thought that those outside of our clan would risk their own livelihood for our sake? Yet they have risked their lives so that I might taste a few minutes of standing outside my cage.”

Druff’s breathing grew considerably shallow as he spoke and got himself excited. This was the longest he’d been on his feet for almost two months now. In spite of his difficulty, it was important to bring his speech to a positive conclusion. “Yet here I stand in freedom. If they can come into the territory of our dragon father and bring this small morsel of freedom to me, I believe it is a sign that they can bring freedom to us all. And that includes the new Provenience.”

Druff stopped speaking and lightly collapsed onto Xando’s elbow. Xando had noticed that Druff was growing weaker with each assertion and prepared himself to catch the proud and once strong defender of the village. As Druff collapsed into Xando’s right arm, the gathered leaders all focused silently upon him. Even the foursome who had come from Tongra found themselves caught up in the power of Druff’s demonstration.

After a few seconds of watching Druff, Ischarus turned back to Rhema. His lips formed the sentence, “You’d better be right.” Yet in spite of the movement of his lips no sound came out of his mouth. Rhema turned to Semeion and caught his eye, nodding to him. She looked back to Ischarus. Without sound, her lips mouthed the words, “I am.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Eleven: PARTY DUBIETY

A middle aged man stepped to the front of the group gathered in Xando’s home and prepared to sternly speak his mind. As he did, he glared deep into Charis’ eyes with hatred. “And what of my daughter?” He extended a finger towards Charis and stepped forward menacingly. Ischarus instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his long sword and drew it an inch out of its scabbard.

Druff held up a weak hand for Ischarus to stop. His raspy voice continued out of his mouth, “Let the man speak, Ischarus.”

The angry man continued, “You were supposed to be the Provenience. Your gifts would have made our lives better. My daughter had to take your place while you ran. She now lives in that cave, impregnated by the seed of our father. What will she do when we all leave? The dragon father will likely slaughter her out of his rage against us!”

Ischarus breathed deeply and replied before Charis could properly respond. “Do you not know what fate rests for any provenience of an evil dragon, especially of a red?” A thick silence hung in the air. The gathering waited to see if Ischarus would finish what he started. “Your daughter will be bred until her body can take no more seed. Then in a great sacrifice that you have all been brainwashed into honoring, she will likely be consumed by fire and most likely eaten. Is that what you want for your daughter? Would you have her consumed while you idly go about you and your people’s tormented lives?”

Several of the men gasped at the straightforward approach that Ischarus took. He had been bold and proclaimed the truth of the event while treading upon the whole sacred symbolism and exaltation that would come to the Provenience. In their minds, she was to be praised for being the one to nourish the dragon father since he had provided his biological seed. Ischarus had stripped the glory of the ritual down and removed the symbolic greatness that supposedly existed in the celebration. The middle-aged man locked eyes with Ischarus and they began to stare one another down. Both men refused to break their gaze.

Charis stepped forward, but kept herself slightly behind Ischarus’ right shoulder. “I know what you are saying and I would have preferred it to have been me to take her place. But things cannot be that way again. My friends have come along and shown me the better path. Now we have all come back to show you all a better path. We have come to show you a path in which your talents are appreciated rather than abused. If you stay here, there is only death waiting for you. You are being worked to the bone and slowly dying. You will die prematurely under the strict labor that our dragon father has for you. Is that the life you would wish on anyone? Is it really worth the assumed glory that the celebration brings? Or is it perhaps that you wish she had not been selected in the first place? If you could, would you desire her to be stripped from her position even now?”

The man broke his gaze with Ischarus and shot a hurt glance at Charis. “What would you know of it? You were unable to complete what had been asked of you.”

Ischarus began to speak again but Druff silenced him with another hand gesture. Ischarus could see in Druff’s face that this was not a time to get involved. This battle was to be fought between the Provenience who was taken and the man whose daughter was forced to take her place.

Charis replied, “I was strapped to the stone and scorched under the sun until my skin burned and I was delirious. I offered myself completely and wholly on that day. You and I both know that if our dragon father was not so greedy in demanding a display of suffering that I would have been long gone before my new friends arrived and took me kicking and screaming from that altar. If our dragon father had an ounce of mercy in his bones he would have accepted the offering without forcing me – and your daughter – to suffer. That is simply evil at its worst. I cannot in good conscience begin to support it or even pretend it doesn’t exist. That is all it is, pure and simple. It is pure evil.”

Semeion added, “And it is an evil that we can save you from.”

The man whose daughter carried the unborn draconic children of the father dragon cast a menacing glance to Semeion. Druff cast a silencing glance to Semeion, but Rhema would not be silenced so easily as her male counterparts. She smiled as she focused her mind on the man. “Would you be appeased if I promised to bring her safely from his lair?”

A murmur shot through those in attendance. Even Charis and Ischarus were amazed to here Rhema make such a statement. Ischarus was able to detect the tone Rhema was using. It was the tone that meant she was trying to charm the man and calm down his emotions. Yet the claim still seemed to be outrageous.

It was enough to dislodge the man from his anger. “You can make such a promise?” he stammered. He had clearly been caught off-guard by the radical assertion.

Ischarus also turned around and looked to Rhema. “Rhema, the new Provenience is going to be enthralled by the draconic presence. There’s no way that you can overcome that. Plus, the father dragon will pursue us only harder if we take both his future generals in addition to the villagers. By taking the Provenience and all the villagers we take his ability to breed completely away. He’ll know that hunting us down will be easier than starting completely over from scratch. You can’t possibly think that such a plan is possible!”

Rhema merely smiled as Ischarus spoke and focused back on the man. “Not only will I make such a promise, but I will die trying to fulfill it if necessary. If you promise to be there when I bring her to you so that you can restrain her, I promise to bring her. She’ll not want to come willingly. I think you know that.”

A smile passed over Charis lips as Rhema spoke. She glanced to Semeion as her mind drifted back in memory. “She’ll be more resistant than I was. I was brainwashed and delirious from the sun. She’ll not only be enthralled but also be carrying her future away from its place of glory every step of the way.

The man who had challenged Charis caught her eyes and for a second they shared a sympathetic look. “What you speak is madness!” he exclaimed.

A thin raspy voice broke through the commotion. As everyone heard Druff try to speak, they were immediately silenced. “It is not impossible. How many of you thought we would again see the Provenience who was stolen from us? Yet here she is. How many of you thought we would taste freedom once our dragon father gathered us in from our hiding? Yet here we are. How many of you have ever thought that those outside of our clan would risk their own livelihood for our sake? Yet they have risked their lives so that I might taste a few minutes of standing outside my cage.”

Druff’s breathing grew considerably shallow as he spoke and got himself excited. This was the longest he’d been on his feet for almost two months now. In spite of his difficulty, it was important to bring his speech to a positive conclusion. “Yet here I stand in freedom. If they can come into the territory of our dragon father and bring this small morsel of freedom to me, I believe it is a sign that they can bring freedom to us all. And that includes the new Provenience.”

Druff stopped speaking and lightly collapsed onto Xando’s elbow. Xando had noticed that Druff was growing weaker with each assertion and prepared himself to catch the proud and once strong defender of the village. As Druff collapsed into Xando’s right arm, the gathered leaders all focused silently upon him. Even the foursome who had come from Tongra found themselves caught up in the power of Druff’s demonstration.

After a few seconds of watching Druff, Ischarus turned back to Rhema. His lips formed the sentence, “You’d better be right.” Yet in spite of the movement of his lips no sound came out of his mouth. Rhema turned to Semeion and caught his eye, nodding to him. She looked back to Ischarus. Without sound, her lips mouthed the words, “I am.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Once Druff had made his speech, nobody bothered challenging the ideas of freedom anymore. Of course there were people in the gathering who doubted and there were a few who even thought it was a foolish plan. But if Druff was behind the party and thought the plan was legitimate there was no longer any point to argue. Points of caution had been made, but if they had convinced Druff the plan was going to go forward.

The rest of the meeting ended quickly; everyone was concerned about staying out too long. If the dragon father was indeed watching from above, he would certainly already be suspicious anyway. Druff called upon Ischarus to explain the plan for preparation over the next few days. Ischarus explained how they would need to store food, reduce food consumption, and work sparingly throughout the night to produce rations to store in the caverns under the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. Ischarus explained that once the rations were properly gathered that they planned to distract the dragon father. Once the red wyrm was distracted they would only have a few minutes to get far enough into the mountains to be free of the wyrm’s breath and magical powers. As he explained the plan, Ischarus gave several questioning glances to Rhema as if to question the sincerity of her attempt to snag the new Provenience. At each moment, Rhema appeared solid and confident.

Once Ischarus had concluded his explanation in the language of the dragons, Druff dismissed the crowd. The party stood by Druff as people left Xando’s home and returned to their own. Druff caught Ischarus by the elbow as Semeion approached to work his magic ways and reduce him in size once more.

Druff’s raspy voice once more issued forth out of his mouth. “Ischarus, you need to post a sentry at the foot of the mountain. There are several prominent villagers that were here today who had their doubts regarding the success of the mission. If they have doubts, they may be tempted to go to the dragon father and request a private meeting. If they are granted such a meeting, they will be seeking their own glory at what will most likely be the destruction of us all. If the dragon learns of our deception, all but the collaborator will likely be destroyed.”

Rhema listened intently. “Druff, is that entrance hidden well? And does it lead up to the dragon’s lair?”

Druff nodded. “It does. I know the way.”

Xando shook his head. “Druff, you are not fit for such a journey. You couldn’t possibly go with her up the mountain.”

Druff smiled and for an instant a glimpse of his powerful old self showed through his eyes. “I will take pleasure in traveling up that tunnel one more time. I cannot go tonight, but I will go with Rhema on the day that the plan unfolds.”

Ischarus shook his head. “No, Druff. You have suffered enough. You deserve your freedom more than anyone else. You’re coming with me to the caves.”

Druff shook his head even more fervently than Ischarus. “No, Ischarus. My life is fragile. You’ll have a better chance at success if I am not slowing you down. I will only slow the main advance of the town as they head for the mountains. You said it yourself. We could only have a matter of minutes. I will go with Rhema where I can do some good.”

Semeion added to Druff’s assertion before anyone else could argue. “I am going as well. I’ll be of little help motivating these people. Rhema may need a translator if she hopes to bring the new Provenience with her. Ischarus, you and Charis are both Drakontos and strong leaders. The people will look up to your natural leadership. You’ll be needed for the evacuation. Rhema and I will use our talents to bring the new Provenience and return with the additional cargo that Rhema so secretly desires.”

Ischarus began to object once more, but Charis stopped him with a hand gesture and a speech of her own. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Ischarus. But Semeion has a point. He and Rhema are best suited for that mission. You and I are going to be needed here on that day.”

Xando approached the door and nodded to Ischarus before he opened it. “Your friends speak wisely, Ischarus. A wise person knows when to trust their friends. As for now, we should be leaving. Semeion, if you will arrange for Druff’s return, I will show Rhema the secret passage. Charis, you and Ischarus can head into the forest a bit and wait for the collection to come for this night. We will trust you to store what few food supplies we have.”

Charis nodded. “Yes. We brought our horses and left them away from village a bit. We’ll be waiting.”

Xando nodded and opened the door. He hopped outside and started walking across the village. There was no real regulation preventing the people from using the night as they saw fit, but he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention from their dragon father, either. As he crossed by the horizontal stone slab he heard the squeak of his door as it opened again.

Rhema had taken time to change and she then popped out of Xando’s home. She headed in a different direction than Xando, but once outside the village she quickly circled around to Xando’s position and met up with him. Neither of them noticed that they were being followed. The light gray figure materialized behind them and followed them closely. The figure occasionally stopped in the middle of a tree to staying hidden for a while.

Semeion cast his magic over Druff, but this time it was Ischarus who would take Druff to the cage. Ischarus hadn’t been near the cage at all that night, so they had hoped his presence wouldn’t draw any attention. Besides the potential mind games, Ischarus was much stronger and able to carry the magically reduced Druff without being obvious. Ischarus departed from the house and headed quickly for the cage.

Semeion and Charis waited a proper amount of time and left the building at the same time. As soon as they descended the steps they split up and headed in different directions into the surrounding forest. The hope was that if someone was watching, they wouldn’t be able to watch everyone at the same time. If their attention was diverted even for an instant, Ischarus and Druff might go unnoticed. Ischarus approached the cage and carefully lifted Druff up to a level that would allow him to climb in easily enough. In a matter of seconds Druff was inside.

Ischarus found himself saying something that only a few days earlier he would have thought impossible. Druff had once been a great adversary. Now Druff was his most important ally. “I am sorry to have to imprison you once more, my new friend. I will send Semeion several times tomorrow to cast his magic upon you. There will be no need for his magic until we have stored up enough rations in the tunnel. If we can ease your pain even for a few minutes each day, we shall.”

Druff reached his hand out of the cage to rest it upon the back of Ischarus’ hand. He found himself in an equally unbelievable position. “I appreciate all that you can do. Just save my people.”

Ischarus nodded and stepped back from the cage. He swallowed hard, lost in what it would be like for Druff in a few minutes when Semeion’s magic wore off. Not wanting to linger too long, Ischarus turned and headed away out of the village. He circled back to where Charis and Semeion were waiting with the horses.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Once Druff had made his speech, nobody bothered challenging the ideas of freedom anymore. Of course there were people in the gathering who doubted and there were a few who even thought it was a foolish plan. But if Druff was behind the party and thought the plan was legitimate there was no longer any point to argue. Points of caution had been made, but if they had convinced Druff the plan was going to go forward.

The rest of the meeting ended quickly; everyone was concerned about staying out too long. If the dragon father was indeed watching from above, he would certainly already be suspicious anyway. Druff called upon Ischarus to explain the plan for preparation over the next few days. Ischarus explained how they would need to store food, reduce food consumption, and work sparingly throughout the night to produce rations to store in the caverns under the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. Ischarus explained that once the rations were properly gathered that they planned to distract the dragon father. Once the red wyrm was distracted they would only have a few minutes to get far enough into the mountains to be free of the wyrm’s breath and magical powers. As he explained the plan, Ischarus gave several questioning glances to Rhema as if to question the sincerity of her attempt to snag the new Provenience. At each moment, Rhema appeared solid and confident.

Once Ischarus had concluded his explanation in the language of the dragons, Druff dismissed the crowd. The party stood by Druff as people left Xando’s home and returned to their own. Druff caught Ischarus by the elbow as Semeion approached to work his magic ways and reduce him in size once more.

Druff’s raspy voice once more issued forth out of his mouth. “Ischarus, you need to post a sentry at the foot of the mountain. There are several prominent villagers that were here today who had their doubts regarding the success of the mission. If they have doubts, they may be tempted to go to the dragon father and request a private meeting. If they are granted such a meeting, they will be seeking their own glory at what will most likely be the destruction of us all. If the dragon learns of our deception, all but the collaborator will likely be destroyed.”

Rhema listened intently. “Druff, is that entrance hidden well? And does it lead up to the dragon’s lair?”

Druff nodded. “It does. I know the way.”

Xando shook his head. “Druff, you are not fit for such a journey. You couldn’t possibly go with her up the mountain.”

Druff smiled and for an instant a glimpse of his powerful old self showed through his eyes. “I will take pleasure in traveling up that tunnel one more time. I cannot go tonight, but I will go with Rhema on the day that the plan unfolds.”

Ischarus shook his head. “No, Druff. You have suffered enough. You deserve your freedom more than anyone else. You’re coming with me to the caves.”

Druff shook his head even more fervently than Ischarus. “No, Ischarus. My life is fragile. You’ll have a better chance at success if I am not slowing you down. I will only slow the main advance of the town as they head for the mountains. You said it yourself. We could only have a matter of minutes. I will go with Rhema where I can do some good.”

Semeion added to Druff’s assertion before anyone else could argue. “I am going as well. I’ll be of little help motivating these people. Rhema may need a translator if she hopes to bring the new Provenience with her. Ischarus, you and Charis are both Drakontos and strong leaders. The people will look up to your natural leadership. You’ll be needed for the evacuation. Rhema and I will use our talents to bring the new Provenience and return with the additional cargo that Rhema so secretly desires.”

Ischarus began to object once more, but Charis stopped him with a hand gesture and a speech of her own. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Ischarus. But Semeion has a point. He and Rhema are best suited for that mission. You and I are going to be needed here on that day.”

Xando approached the door and nodded to Ischarus before he opened it. “Your friends speak wisely, Ischarus. A wise person knows when to trust their friends. As for now, we should be leaving. Semeion, if you will arrange for Druff’s return, I will show Rhema the secret passage. Charis, you and Ischarus can head into the forest a bit and wait for the collection to come for this night. We will trust you to store what few food supplies we have.”

Charis nodded. “Yes. We brought our horses and left them away from village a bit. We’ll be waiting.”

Xando nodded and opened the door. He hopped outside and started walking across the village. There was no real regulation preventing the people from using the night as they saw fit, but he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention from their dragon father, either. As he crossed by the horizontal stone slab he heard the squeak of his door as it opened again.

Rhema had taken time to change and she then popped out of Xando’s home. She headed in a different direction than Xando, but once outside the village she quickly circled around to Xando’s position and met up with him. Neither of them noticed that they were being followed. The light gray figure materialized behind them and followed them closely. The figure occasionally stopped in the middle of a tree to staying hidden for a while.

Semeion cast his magic over Druff, but this time it was Ischarus who would take Druff to the cage. Ischarus hadn’t been near the cage at all that night, so they had hoped his presence wouldn’t draw any attention. Besides the potential mind games, Ischarus was much stronger and able to carry the magically reduced Druff without being obvious. Ischarus departed from the house and headed quickly for the cage.

Semeion and Charis waited a proper amount of time and left the building at the same time. As soon as they descended the steps they split up and headed in different directions into the surrounding forest. The hope was that if someone was watching, they wouldn’t be able to watch everyone at the same time. If their attention was diverted even for an instant, Ischarus and Druff might go unnoticed. Ischarus approached the cage and carefully lifted Druff up to a level that would allow him to climb in easily enough. In a matter of seconds Druff was inside.

Ischarus found himself saying something that only a few days earlier he would have thought impossible. Druff had once been a great adversary. Now Druff was his most important ally. “I am sorry to have to imprison you once more, my new friend. I will send Semeion several times tomorrow to cast his magic upon you. There will be no need for his magic until we have stored up enough rations in the tunnel. If we can ease your pain even for a few minutes each day, we shall.”

Druff reached his hand out of the cage to rest it upon the back of Ischarus’ hand. He found himself in an equally unbelievable position. “I appreciate all that you can do. Just save my people.”

Ischarus nodded and stepped back from the cage. He swallowed hard, lost in what it would be like for Druff in a few minutes when Semeion’s magic wore off. Not wanting to linger too long, Ischarus turned and headed away out of the village. He circled back to where Charis and Semeion were waiting with the horses.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Xando led Rhema to the hidden entrance to the dragon’s lair and back to the village again. Without much of a goodbye at all, Xando quickly disappeared through the network of village houses and then slipped in his own front door. Rhema watched him go for a short time and waited until she heard the sound of his door closing. Once she was sure that he had made it to his home, Rhema crept around the edge of the village through the trees until she saw the horses standing beside Semeion and Charis. Ischarus was nowhere to be seen.

Rhema continued to approach slowly, figuring that there was no need to draw in any more attention than necessary. As she crept on her hands and knees towards the horses, she heard a voice above her from among the trees. “Don’t move any further. I’ve got you in my sights and I’m not afraid to punish you if you move so much as a muscle.”

Rhema was startled at the interruption of the voice. Immediately her eyes dilated, her heart raced, and she sucked in a quick breath. It was only a second later that her mind caught up with the fight or flight instinct. “Don’t do that, Ischarus! You scared me half to death.” In spite of being scared, she was able to keep her voice to a minimum as she rolled over to face the Drakontos she had grown to know so well.

As she rolled over, she heard Ischarus leap to the ground off of a branch above her. He drove his sword hard into the ground after he jumped and landed in a crouching position. He held his finger up to his lips to be silent as he spoke quietly. “Charis and Semeion seemed like they wanted a bit of time alone. I figured I’d sit in the tree and watch the village. I heard you coming a mile away.”

Rhema reached up and grabbed the hilt of Ischarus’ sword and used it to help herself rise into a seated position. As her hand reached onto the hilt of Ischarus’ blade, her fingers were covered with Ischarus’ as he gently trapped them between his own fingers and the hilt of his sword. Rhema smiled at the physical advance and spoke softly. “I think perhaps you wanted a bit of time alone as well?”

Ischarus winked at his prey and then he looked back towards the horses. From his crouched position, Semeion and Charis were out of view. “You found the way to the dragon’s cave?

Rhema nodded, enjoying being connected to Ischarus upon the hilt of his sword. She continued to whisper, “Yeah. I found it. It shouldn’t be hard to find again now that I know where to look.”

Ischarus smiled and continued to avoid eye contact with Rhema. “Are you sure about all of this? You really think that you and Semeion can get into the cave and get what you seek?”

Rhema followed Ischarus’ eyes. He was looking straight into the cluster of horses. Her eyes locked onto the same distant point. “Yeah. I’m sure. Between Semeion and me, we can get the job done.”

Ischarus nodded, but didn’t look to Rhema. “And Druff. You’ll have Druff along.”

Rhema sighed and looked over at Ischarus. “Deep in my heart, I wish that he wasn’t coming. He’s so frail.”

Ischarus cut her explanation off. As he spoke a smile of knowing pride passed over his lips. “He’s Drakontos, Rhema. He has the pride and strength of dragons working through him. He’ll manage the task, don’t worry.”

As Ischarus seemed to slip into the mode of commander, Rhema looked away and flexed her fingers underneath his grip. Although she tried to remove her hand as she thought the intimate moment had passed, Ischarus refused to let her fingers free. Instead, he continued the conversation while they were still linked at the hilt of the sword. “But you have good reason to wish him not going. Fundamentally, he is Drakontos and we are planning to assault his dragon father. If there is any loyalty inside him to his heritage, you should not trust him. I don’t trust him. This could all be a ploy to return himself to the power that he once had. We could be in the middle of a large scale set-up. You must promise me that you won’t trust him until you are free and under the mountains. Misplaced trust over the next few days could end your life with me.”

Rhema knew she heard the emotion in his voice. Compassion was clearly present as he ended his discussion on Druff. In fact, there was a clear tone of emptiness and mourning present as Ischarus spoke the final four words. Rhema wrinkled her eyebrows in thought as she continued to focus in on the horses once more. “I’ll be careful, Ischarus. I’ve learned to trust your instincts.”

The sound of a door closing solidly rang through the village. Ischarus and Charis both turned their heads to the right and looked into the village. They saw what appeared to be a woman carrying a pack on her shoulders. Even though both Ischarus and Rhema had turned, neither was willing to relinquish their grip on the sword any more. Ischarus turned back to look at Rhema and he found her willing to hold eye contact. “We should probably go to Semeion and have you show us where that entrance is. We’ll make that our base of operations. Charis and I will join you during the day. You and Semeion should keep a constant vigil watching that entrance. None of the villagers can be trusted anymore. Even though they supply us with rations, Druff is right. Any one of them could conspire against us.”

Rhema nodded, although her expression looked a bit deflated. Her face appeared as though she wished she wasn’t hearing the voice of a commander at this moment. Ischarus saw the expression and smiled. The stern look of the regimented tactician vanished and for a moment it was replaced by a very carefree expression. He leaned forward and kissed Rhema on the forehead. “I never got a chance to tell you, but I did not ask you to lie to Brandt.”

Rhema thought for a moment, but before she could truly understand his words he had let go of her hand and stood up. He extended a hand to her to help her stand and as she rose Ischarus said, “That woman is the first to bring supplies. Charis can handle it for a short time. We should go.”

A smile flashed across Rhema’s face. Suddenly, she was enjoying Ischarus’ commander voice much more. In a playful mocking Rhema added, “Yes, sir.”

Ischarus also smiled, and together they walked the rest of the way to meet up with Charis and Semeion. Once the foursome was together, Ischarus began handing out a few more orders. “Semeion, Charis. That sound was the villagers beginning to bring the supplies for the journey. They’ll be coming shortly. That also means that we should set up a watch at the secret entrance to the dragon lair. With people wandering about at night we can’t take any chances.”

Both Semeion and Charis nodded and Ischarus continued. “Semeion, you and I need to go with Rhema to the secret entrance. I’ll come back here and help Charis. Once we are done here for the night we’ll have the horses drag the supplies to the mountainous caves, find a place to store them, and then join you for the day.”

Charis shook her head in disapproval. “No, Ischarus. We cannot leave the food store unprotected in the mountain passageway. There isn’t much traffic through there, but there are wild animals that will scavenge the food. We’ll need to post a guard.”

Semeion appeared to be counting people in his mind. Once he was done he added his own perspective. “We don’t have enough people. We can’t constantly protect the dragon’s secret entrance, the food, and move the supplies without getting some rest.”

Rhema frowned at the thought and Ischarus replied, “You’re right, Semeion. For now, we need to go. We’ll work on the plan in our minds as we work tonight. We’ll resolve this at sunrise.”

The woman carrying the first addition of food supplies began to leave the village and slowly approach the horses. She could barely see the foursome in the darkness provided by the cover of trees. As she gingerly stepped forward, Ischarus, Semeion, and Rhema stepped away.

Several more people brought food to Charis before Ischarus returned to her side. The supply stack was growing strong. It seemed like the effort for the freedom of Charis’ people had been received well. The next few days would be spend foraging for nuts, berries, and grains and then baking as much as possible. It would be hard work, but the taste of freedom would hopefully make it pass quickly. As the people brought their food supplies, they blessed Ischarus and Charis for their work.

On the opposite side of the village and a good bit into the forest, Rhema and Semeion sat just inside the secret entrance. They sat in silence and darkness for some time, each wondering if their presence would be detected by the dragon. They hoped that the main portion of his lair was high enough up the mountain that they could go undetected as they sat only a few feet into the secret entrance. Truth be told, their silence was largely spent listening intently into the greater darkness that lay beyond them.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Xando led Rhema to the hidden entrance to the dragon’s lair and back to the village again. Without much of a goodbye at all, Xando quickly disappeared through the network of village houses and then slipped in his own front door. Rhema watched him go for a short time and waited until she heard the sound of his door closing. Once she was sure that he had made it to his home, Rhema crept around the edge of the village through the trees until she saw the horses standing beside Semeion and Charis. Ischarus was nowhere to be seen.

Rhema continued to approach slowly, figuring that there was no need to draw in any more attention than necessary. As she crept on her hands and knees towards the horses, she heard a voice above her from among the trees. “Don’t move any further. I’ve got you in my sights and I’m not afraid to punish you if you move so much as a muscle.”

Rhema was startled at the interruption of the voice. Immediately her eyes dilated, her heart raced, and she sucked in a quick breath. It was only a second later that her mind caught up with the fight or flight instinct. “Don’t do that, Ischarus! You scared me half to death.” In spite of being scared, she was able to keep her voice to a minimum as she rolled over to face the Drakontos she had grown to know so well.

As she rolled over, she heard Ischarus leap to the ground off of a branch above her. He drove his sword hard into the ground after he jumped and landed in a crouching position. He held his finger up to his lips to be silent as he spoke quietly. “Charis and Semeion seemed like they wanted a bit of time alone. I figured I’d sit in the tree and watch the village. I heard you coming a mile away.”

Rhema reached up and grabbed the hilt of Ischarus’ sword and used it to help herself rise into a seated position. As her hand reached onto the hilt of Ischarus’ blade, her fingers were covered with Ischarus’ as he gently trapped them between his own fingers and the hilt of his sword. Rhema smiled at the physical advance and spoke softly. “I think perhaps you wanted a bit of time alone as well?”

Ischarus winked at his prey and then he looked back towards the horses. From his crouched position, Semeion and Charis were out of view. “You found the way to the dragon’s cave?

Rhema nodded, enjoying being connected to Ischarus upon the hilt of his sword. She continued to whisper, “Yeah. I found it. It shouldn’t be hard to find again now that I know where to look.”

Ischarus smiled and continued to avoid eye contact with Rhema. “Are you sure about all of this? You really think that you and Semeion can get into the cave and get what you seek?”

Rhema followed Ischarus’ eyes. He was looking straight into the cluster of horses. Her eyes locked onto the same distant point. “Yeah. I’m sure. Between Semeion and me, we can get the job done.”

Ischarus nodded, but didn’t look to Rhema. “And Druff. You’ll have Druff along.”

Rhema sighed and looked over at Ischarus. “Deep in my heart, I wish that he wasn’t coming. He’s so frail.”

Ischarus cut her explanation off. As he spoke a smile of knowing pride passed over his lips. “He’s Drakontos, Rhema. He has the pride and strength of dragons working through him. He’ll manage the task, don’t worry.”

As Ischarus seemed to slip into the mode of commander, Rhema looked away and flexed her fingers underneath his grip. Although she tried to remove her hand as she thought the intimate moment had passed, Ischarus refused to let her fingers free. Instead, he continued the conversation while they were still linked at the hilt of the sword. “But you have good reason to wish him not going. Fundamentally, he is Drakontos and we are planning to assault his dragon father. If there is any loyalty inside him to his heritage, you should not trust him. I don’t trust him. This could all be a ploy to return himself to the power that he once had. We could be in the middle of a large scale set-up. You must promise me that you won’t trust him until you are free and under the mountains. Misplaced trust over the next few days could end your life with me.”

Rhema knew she heard the emotion in his voice. Compassion was clearly present as he ended his discussion on Druff. In fact, there was a clear tone of emptiness and mourning present as Ischarus spoke the final four words. Rhema wrinkled her eyebrows in thought as she continued to focus in on the horses once more. “I’ll be careful, Ischarus. I’ve learned to trust your instincts.”

The sound of a door closing solidly rang through the village. Ischarus and Charis both turned their heads to the right and looked into the village. They saw what appeared to be a woman carrying a pack on her shoulders. Even though both Ischarus and Rhema had turned, neither was willing to relinquish their grip on the sword any more. Ischarus turned back to look at Rhema and he found her willing to hold eye contact. “We should probably go to Semeion and have you show us where that entrance is. We’ll make that our base of operations. Charis and I will join you during the day. You and Semeion should keep a constant vigil watching that entrance. None of the villagers can be trusted anymore. Even though they supply us with rations, Druff is right. Any one of them could conspire against us.”

Rhema nodded, although her expression looked a bit deflated. Her face appeared as though she wished she wasn’t hearing the voice of a commander at this moment. Ischarus saw the expression and smiled. The stern look of the regimented tactician vanished and for a moment it was replaced by a very carefree expression. He leaned forward and kissed Rhema on the forehead. “I never got a chance to tell you, but I did not ask you to lie to Brandt.”

Rhema thought for a moment, but before she could truly understand his words he had let go of her hand and stood up. He extended a hand to her to help her stand and as she rose Ischarus said, “That woman is the first to bring supplies. Charis can handle it for a short time. We should go.”

A smile flashed across Rhema’s face. Suddenly, she was enjoying Ischarus’ commander voice much more. In a playful mocking Rhema added, “Yes, sir.”

Ischarus also smiled, and together they walked the rest of the way to meet up with Charis and Semeion. Once the foursome was together, Ischarus began handing out a few more orders. “Semeion, Charis. That sound was the villagers beginning to bring the supplies for the journey. They’ll be coming shortly. That also means that we should set up a watch at the secret entrance to the dragon lair. With people wandering about at night we can’t take any chances.”

Both Semeion and Charis nodded and Ischarus continued. “Semeion, you and I need to go with Rhema to the secret entrance. I’ll come back here and help Charis. Once we are done here for the night we’ll have the horses drag the supplies to the mountainous caves, find a place to store them, and then join you for the day.”

Charis shook her head in disapproval. “No, Ischarus. We cannot leave the food store unprotected in the mountain passageway. There isn’t much traffic through there, but there are wild animals that will scavenge the food. We’ll need to post a guard.”

Semeion appeared to be counting people in his mind. Once he was done he added his own perspective. “We don’t have enough people. We can’t constantly protect the dragon’s secret entrance, the food, and move the supplies without getting some rest.”

Rhema frowned at the thought and Ischarus replied, “You’re right, Semeion. For now, we need to go. We’ll work on the plan in our minds as we work tonight. We’ll resolve this at sunrise.”

The woman carrying the first addition of food supplies began to leave the village and slowly approach the horses. She could barely see the foursome in the darkness provided by the cover of trees. As she gingerly stepped forward, Ischarus, Semeion, and Rhema stepped away.

Several more people brought food to Charis before Ischarus returned to her side. The supply stack was growing strong. It seemed like the effort for the freedom of Charis’ people had been received well. The next few days would be spend foraging for nuts, berries, and grains and then baking as much as possible. It would be hard work, but the taste of freedom would hopefully make it pass quickly. As the people brought their food supplies, they blessed Ischarus and Charis for their work.

On the opposite side of the village and a good bit into the forest, Rhema and Semeion sat just inside the secret entrance. They sat in silence and darkness for some time, each wondering if their presence would be detected by the dragon. They hoped that the main portion of his lair was high enough up the mountain that they could go undetected as they sat only a few feet into the secret entrance. Truth be told, their silence was largely spent listening intently into the greater darkness that lay beyond them.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The sound they were waiting for didn’t take too long to come. As Rhema and Semeion sat in silence just inside the cave they heard the snap of a dried twig. After a brief moment of panic, both heads swiveled from their fearful glance deeper into the cave to a look of anticipation towards the entrance. It was much too early to expect Ischarus or Charis to be returning back to the hidden entrance. This encounter had all the potential of being one of the most dangerous moments for the success of the plan. Failure could mean the wrath of the red dragon upon them all.

The unknown person entered to cave entrance. Rhema and Semeion were hidden well enough that whoever was coming was unable to see them as they looked in from the light and into the darkness. Rhema and Semeion couldn’t make out the identity of the person either on account of the backlighting from the stars and the moon above. The person appeared simply as a silhouette to both Rhema and Semeion as they hid in the cave. They did take comfort in knowing that the unknown intruder had come alone.

The person stopped immediately upon crossing out of the forest and entering into the cave. Whoever it was turned around and looked back in the direction of the village before moving on. “I do this for the future, bleak as it is. I cannot let my daughter be killed in this foolhardy plan.” The thick accent of the draconic language pulsed through the cavern. From the pitch and roughness of the voice, Rhema and Semeion determined that this person was a man. The man’s tone had a clear indication that he was trying to convince himself of the necessity of this act.

Semeion spoke before Rhema could muster her own words. “You would condemn your people to save your daughter?” Semeion’s voice broke the silence and it echoed through the entrance. The man spun around and desperately searched the entrance. Semeion continued the questioning in the draconic language from his hidden position, confusing the newcomer even further. “Your daughter likely only lives a life worth living if you turn around now and go back to the village. To continue with your plan only means your daughter lives in slavery.”

The man desperately searched the inside of the cave entrance. He stepped forward into the cave a single step in an attempt to escape the relative brightness of the entrance. His language changed to the language spoke in the lands outside of Quehalost and Rhema sighed in relief that the man could speak a language that she spoke. “No, my daughter survives if the plan is foiled. My wife survives if the plan is stopped right now. My unborn child manages to see the day of its birth if the plan is stopped right now!”

Rhema let out a little laugh. “And what life will they have? If you go to your dragon father now with the information you have, the wrath of your dragon father will know no end. Do you think your people will be spared?”

The frustration in the man’s voice rang through the cave. Rhema and Semeion both feared it would be loud enough to wake the dragon above them. “I have no choice!” The man stepped forward as he made his assertion and interrupted Rhema. “You cannot escape the grasp of our dragon father! You might be able to smuggle a few of our people out, but if we all leave our dragon father will wait patiently until we emerge on the other side of the mountains. Wherever we emerge we will be seen from the air. Don’t you get that?”

As the man stepped forward another step Semeion recognized the man. His eyes darted over to where he knew Rhema was hiding as soon as he figured out who it was, but he was unable to see Rhema in the darkness. “Do you think you can save her from the dragon’s own mouth?”

The man laughed as the irony of Semeion’s words reached him. “You think you can! I think my way is easier.”

Semeion didn’t let Rhema join the conversation as he continued the verbal pressure. “We don’t plan on sacrificing dozens of lives at her expense! We plan on rescuing not only her, but you and everyone else back in that village!”

As Semeion spoke his enthusiasm accidentally drew him out of hiding. He gestured with his hand and rose ever so slightly out of his crouch. The gesture and the slight rise was enough to give Semeion’s location away to the man who was now standing only a few feet away. In an instant the man pulled out the sickle that he used to harvest grains in his father dragon’s fields.

Semeion was quicker on the draw with his magic, however. “Thin-tok” The familiar words easily came to his mind. Blue sparks ignited along Semeion’s elbow and shot toward his hand. In an instant they congregated along his fingers and leapt forward to form a ball only six inches from his hand. The blue ball of energy lit Semeion’s face for just an instant before springing forward and striking the man. As the ball flashed across the cave Rhema recognize the man as well.

The energy ball struck the man and knocked him back a step. It wasn’t enough to knock him completely off-balance and the man charged Semeion’s position with fury in his eyes. The man slashed forward with a furious cut as the sickle sliced through the air. Semeion used the darkness to his advantage and ducked into a shadow. The sound of metal striking rock above Semeion’s head rang out and echoed through the cave entrance.

Rhema knew that Semeion wouldn’t be able to take too many attacks. She also knew that she couldn’t take too many attacks, either. She stood up, revealing her position to the man and spoke with the calming presence that Semeion had learned meant she attempting to influence the man’s mind. “We had this discussion in Xando’s home. We agreed that we can save your daughter and her unborn dragon children. There’s no need to disbelieve us. I have promised that I would either save your daughter or die trying.”

The man scoffed at Rhema’s attempt to influence his mind. “Do you honestly think that your mind tricks can work on me as they did the traitor that you stole from us? If she weren’t such a weak minded individual we would not be in this situation at all!”

As the man spoke, Semeion yanked his finely crafted rapier out of its scabbard and lined up a strike. The hit was only a glancing blow, but it did manage to cut the man and draw blood through his robe. The man let out a quick curse and sucked in a deep breath. His return strike was parried by Semeion’s rapier as the curved blade of the sickle wrapped around the flexible blade of Semeion’s rapier. Semeion couldn’t help but smile at his ability to wield the weapon with apparent skill against the villager.

Rhema continued talking. “Listen to me. Your daughter might be the new Provenience, but we can give her freedom. We can give you the opportunity to live in freedom with her and watch your dragon born grandchildren grow up apart from the wrath of your dragon father. Don’t you want that for your daughter, her children, your wife, your own unborn child, and the rest of the village?”

The man snarled again at Rhema’s attempt to influence his mind. “I told you to get out of my mind, witch. Now I mean it, or I’ll skewer you after I finish with this one!”

Semeion didn’t take kindly to the man’s words. His rapier flashed forward once more, slicing into the man’s right shoulder. The man dropped his sickle out of the pain and crumpled to the floor. Semeion rose to his feet and switched back to the draconic language as he concluded the conversation. “I told you that you would not overcome us. Since we defeated you, our plan can continue. Now submit and your life will be spared.”

When the man had fallen to the ground Rhema approached from behind his back. At Semeion’s tone and threatening posture she glanced towards the young mage and Semeion smiled and replied to her glance with a wink of his own.

The man spat upon Semeion’s leg at the offer to submit. “You’ll need to kill me to silence me.” He tried to reach with his right hand for the sickle, but Semeion stepped in the path of his reach. Pain shot through the man’s body as he attempted to use his nearly useless shoulder. He spat once more toward Semeion before the young mage reached back and struck him hard across his face.

The blow came from Semeion’s gloved hand, but it knocked the man to the ground. Pain shot through his body as he landed on his left side. His head thumped against the ground and he lay still. Rhema approached from behind and checked the man’s vital signs.

She looked up and nodded. “He’s still alive. It feels like he’s just unconscious from the blow.”

Semeion nodded. “Well I didn’t want to kill him, but he wouldn’t submit. He had to be subdued. Now what?”

Rhema looked back up at Semeion. “We’ll tie him up for the night. When Ischarus comes back we’ll decide what to do with him. For the night we’ll get him out of the way and make him comfortable.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The sound they were waiting for didn’t take too long to come. As Rhema and Semeion sat in silence just inside the cave they heard the snap of a dried twig. After a brief moment of panic, both heads swiveled from their fearful glance deeper into the cave to a look of anticipation towards the entrance. It was much too early to expect Ischarus or Charis to be returning back to the hidden entrance. This encounter had all the potential of being one of the most dangerous moments for the success of the plan. Failure could mean the wrath of the red dragon upon them all.

The unknown person entered to cave entrance. Rhema and Semeion were hidden well enough that whoever was coming was unable to see them as they looked in from the light and into the darkness. Rhema and Semeion couldn’t make out the identity of the person either on account of the backlighting from the stars and the moon above. The person appeared simply as a silhouette to both Rhema and Semeion as they hid in the cave. They did take comfort in knowing that the unknown intruder had come alone.

The person stopped immediately upon crossing out of the forest and entering into the cave. Whoever it was turned around and looked back in the direction of the village before moving on. “I do this for the future, bleak as it is. I cannot let my daughter be killed in this foolhardy plan.” The thick accent of the draconic language pulsed through the cavern. From the pitch and roughness of the voice, Rhema and Semeion determined that this person was a man. The man’s tone had a clear indication that he was trying to convince himself of the necessity of this act.

Semeion spoke before Rhema could muster her own words. “You would condemn your people to save your daughter?” Semeion’s voice broke the silence and it echoed through the entrance. The man spun around and desperately searched the entrance. Semeion continued the questioning in the draconic language from his hidden position, confusing the newcomer even further. “Your daughter likely only lives a life worth living if you turn around now and go back to the village. To continue with your plan only means your daughter lives in slavery.”

The man desperately searched the inside of the cave entrance. He stepped forward into the cave a single step in an attempt to escape the relative brightness of the entrance. His language changed to the language spoke in the lands outside of Quehalost and Rhema sighed in relief that the man could speak a language that she spoke. “No, my daughter survives if the plan is foiled. My wife survives if the plan is stopped right now. My unborn child manages to see the day of its birth if the plan is stopped right now!”

Rhema let out a little laugh. “And what life will they have? If you go to your dragon father now with the information you have, the wrath of your dragon father will know no end. Do you think your people will be spared?”

The frustration in the man’s voice rang through the cave. Rhema and Semeion both feared it would be loud enough to wake the dragon above them. “I have no choice!” The man stepped forward as he made his assertion and interrupted Rhema. “You cannot escape the grasp of our dragon father! You might be able to smuggle a few of our people out, but if we all leave our dragon father will wait patiently until we emerge on the other side of the mountains. Wherever we emerge we will be seen from the air. Don’t you get that?”

As the man stepped forward another step Semeion recognized the man. His eyes darted over to where he knew Rhema was hiding as soon as he figured out who it was, but he was unable to see Rhema in the darkness. “Do you think you can save her from the dragon’s own mouth?”

The man laughed as the irony of Semeion’s words reached him. “You think you can! I think my way is easier.”

Semeion didn’t let Rhema join the conversation as he continued the verbal pressure. “We don’t plan on sacrificing dozens of lives at her expense! We plan on rescuing not only her, but you and everyone else back in that village!”

As Semeion spoke his enthusiasm accidentally drew him out of hiding. He gestured with his hand and rose ever so slightly out of his crouch. The gesture and the slight rise was enough to give Semeion’s location away to the man who was now standing only a few feet away. In an instant the man pulled out the sickle that he used to harvest grains in his father dragon’s fields.

Semeion was quicker on the draw with his magic, however. “Thin-tok” The familiar words easily came to his mind. Blue sparks ignited along Semeion’s elbow and shot toward his hand. In an instant they congregated along his fingers and leapt forward to form a ball only six inches from his hand. The blue ball of energy lit Semeion’s face for just an instant before springing forward and striking the man. As the ball flashed across the cave Rhema recognize the man as well.

The energy ball struck the man and knocked him back a step. It wasn’t enough to knock him completely off-balance and the man charged Semeion’s position with fury in his eyes. The man slashed forward with a furious cut as the sickle sliced through the air. Semeion used the darkness to his advantage and ducked into a shadow. The sound of metal striking rock above Semeion’s head rang out and echoed through the cave entrance.

Rhema knew that Semeion wouldn’t be able to take too many attacks. She also knew that she couldn’t take too many attacks, either. She stood up, revealing her position to the man and spoke with the calming presence that Semeion had learned meant she attempting to influence the man’s mind. “We had this discussion in Xando’s home. We agreed that we can save your daughter and her unborn dragon children. There’s no need to disbelieve us. I have promised that I would either save your daughter or die trying.”

The man scoffed at Rhema’s attempt to influence his mind. “Do you honestly think that your mind tricks can work on me as they did the traitor that you stole from us? If she weren’t such a weak minded individual we would not be in this situation at all!”

As the man spoke, Semeion yanked his finely crafted rapier out of its scabbard and lined up a strike. The hit was only a glancing blow, but it did manage to cut the man and draw blood through his robe. The man let out a quick curse and sucked in a deep breath. His return strike was parried by Semeion’s rapier as the curved blade of the sickle wrapped around the flexible blade of Semeion’s rapier. Semeion couldn’t help but smile at his ability to wield the weapon with apparent skill against the villager.

Rhema continued talking. “Listen to me. Your daughter might be the new Provenience, but we can give her freedom. We can give you the opportunity to live in freedom with her and watch your dragon born grandchildren grow up apart from the wrath of your dragon father. Don’t you want that for your daughter, her children, your wife, your own unborn child, and the rest of the village?”

The man snarled again at Rhema’s attempt to influence his mind. “I told you to get out of my mind, witch. Now I mean it, or I’ll skewer you after I finish with this one!”

Semeion didn’t take kindly to the man’s words. His rapier flashed forward once more, slicing into the man’s right shoulder. The man dropped his sickle out of the pain and crumpled to the floor. Semeion rose to his feet and switched back to the draconic language as he concluded the conversation. “I told you that you would not overcome us. Since we defeated you, our plan can continue. Now submit and your life will be spared.”

When the man had fallen to the ground Rhema approached from behind his back. At Semeion’s tone and threatening posture she glanced towards the young mage and Semeion smiled and replied to her glance with a wink of his own.

The man spat upon Semeion’s leg at the offer to submit. “You’ll need to kill me to silence me.” He tried to reach with his right hand for the sickle, but Semeion stepped in the path of his reach. Pain shot through the man’s body as he attempted to use his nearly useless shoulder. He spat once more toward Semeion before the young mage reached back and struck him hard across his face.

The blow came from Semeion’s gloved hand, but it knocked the man to the ground. Pain shot through his body as he landed on his left side. His head thumped against the ground and he lay still. Rhema approached from behind and checked the man’s vital signs.

She looked up and nodded. “He’s still alive. It feels like he’s just unconscious from the blow.”

Semeion nodded. “Well I didn’t want to kill him, but he wouldn’t submit. He had to be subdued. Now what?”

Rhema looked back up at Semeion. “We’ll tie him up for the night. When Ischarus comes back we’ll decide what to do with him. For the night we’ll get him out of the way and make him comfortable.”
[/Sblock]