Into the Moral Darkness: (Now a Completed Story!)

[Nonlethal Force]

Ischarus tried to disguise his voice under a frail level of fear. “Please, Darkbringer. Do not injure me. I did the best that I could. I am no lush, but I did focus my search in the taverns of this city. I thought that would be the best place for me to be able to find the one that you are looking for!” His cry was difficult to pull off, because Ischarus was unaccustomed to feeling fear that extensively.

Rhema knew full well that the act was working, however. With Charis turned into the Darkbringer, she would appear more menacing by appearing to be able to disguise her appearance. She also knew that with Semeion’s and her own powers naturally feeding off of Charis’ innate charisma, she would give a much more powerful presentation. Her powers would seem greater than they actually were and this would make her performance memorable. Ischarus’ apparent crumbling before her power would only add credence to the unbelievable.

Charis’ tone continued to increase. “Do you now see the power that you have so casually dismissed in your feeble attempts to hop from bar to bar in search of the one I seek? You thought that my task would be easily dismissed and that you would be allowed to have pleasant afternoons drinking ale while reporting nothing back to me! But I have caught on to your schemes and I will be taken advantage of no longer!”

Rhema knew that Charis was building her presentation to a head now. She seemed to grow quite angry and this would allow Rhema to begin to demonstrate her own range of powers. Rhema cautiously stayed by the front door as she scanned the room. The patrons were now focused on Charis, but they would recognize her as an associate belonging to that table. Rhema intentionally hung back from the door to make it appear as though she was afraid to step into the path of Charis’ tirade. In truth, Rhema was focusing on the nearby oil lamps and torches.

As Rhema focused, the flames from the lamp on the surrounding tables began to grow almost unnaturally large. They didn’t appear to be consuming more oil as they grew in intensity. However, there was no disputing that the flames were increasing in size. What should have been a normal one inch flame now leapt three to four inches off of the end of the wick.

Charis smiled as she saw the increase in flame. Of course, the patrons within the tavern actually saw Darkbringer smile on account of Semeion’s magical transformation. The smile seemed to be one of pure evil pleasure. Ischarus slouched within his seat as if to draw back from the unnatural display of pyrotechnics. Charis stood tall as the flames increased and held her hands out from her side. She cupped her hands as if her fingers were to form a basin.

Ischarus parted his mouth as if to speak, but Charis did not give him the opportunity. “Do you know why they call me Darkbringer? They call me Darkbringer because I have the ability to use light to my advantage. I’ll give you a simple demonstration.”

Rhema focused in on the enlarged flame nearest to Charis’ position. She used her power over the flame to set the flame into motion. The flame left the wick and the oil behind it, but it continued to burn in midair as it crossed over the small space between itself and Charis’ hand. Rhema positioned the flame so that it appeared to be nestled within the cup that Charis’ palm and fingers had formed.

Charis laughed in a slow manner. The laugh demonstrated that she was enjoying the act. “See this flame here? This flame can normally provide light and give off a slight amount of heat. In fact, many people would eventually be burned if they drew this close to the flame for this long. However, this flame gives me power. I can draw off the presence of this very flame and grow stronger. By absorbing its essence, I will cast you in darkness and grow even stronger.”

Rhema slowly moved the flame back to the wick from which it had been taken. Once it had been successfully returned to the oil, Charis lifted her arms and hands out and above her shoulders and spoke in a commanding tone. “Now watch, as you see true power!”

Ischarus slowly pushed her chair back from the table as if in fear. He didn’t rise from his seated position, however. He didn’t want to yet instigate conflict. Rather, he simply wanted to make it appear that he was indeed quite nervous. His eyes opened wide as Charis lifted her arms as if to worship the flame around her.

Rhema took her cue from Ischarus. Using her power to control the magical flame she returned the large flames to their normal size. Once they had been reduced back to a believable size, Rhema focused even harder to push the flames smaller. They appeared to dwindle as Charis focused her attention.

Semeion waited for Charis to play out the act. As the flames decreased in size, Charis began to emit a low humming sound as though she were driving herself into a deep state of meditation. As she hummed, she slowly closed her eyes as if to enter into a trance.

With the closing of Charis’ eyes, Ischarus knew that it would be most believable to strike now. Ischarus drew his sword out of his scabbard and slowly began to rise quietly. With Ischarus’ sword out of the scabbard, the inn was bathed in the magical light that Charis had placed upon it earlier.

Charis smiled as her spell creating light upon the sword told her that Ischarus was moving. She struck out her hand as if to force Ischarus back into the chair. The table was wide enough that Ischarus was no danger of being hit. However, as Ischarus saw Charis strike towards him he acted as though he was pushed back into the chair and restrained their by some hidden force. In apparent surprise, Ischarus spoke. “But, how?”

Charis continued to smile, but did not interrupt her humming. She did not want to grant the patrons of the tavern the answer which would prematurely destroy the tension she had been working hard to build. Ischarus continued to feign restraint for several more seconds until the flames of the nearby candles had been almost completely extinguished.

Only then did Charis speak slowly and deliberately. “I sensed your movement through the magical light of your sword. I have restrained you according to the power that I have absorbed by the flames. Now see what else the flames have given to me!”

As soon as she finished speaking, Rhema focused hard on the flames and caused them all to extinguish simultaneously. The tavern suddenly had a circle of darkness around where Charis stood. The light from the outermost tables and the lamps hung along the wall did continue to cast some light toward Charis, but it was still noticeably darker around Charis and Ischarus. Only the light from Ischarus’ sword cast illumination near Charis with any authority.

Once the flames were extinguished, Charis closed her eyes completely and appeared to concentrate. Semeion smiled, enjoying the performance from his invisible location. He spoke yet another magical command once the flames were eliminated. “Tok-skrie Ah-su “

Charis began to grow in size. Her arms, legs, head and torso doubled. She grew so large as to have her head rub against the rafters supporting the rooftop above. The weapons that hung from her belt continued to grow as well and they were no longer hidden underneath the folds of her traveling cloak. She laughed as each dimension of her body size quite literally doubled. “Would you care to challenge me now, puny man? Do you now think yourself so great that you think you can avoid my power? Do you think you can defeat someone who draws power from the very essence of flame?”

Ischarus sat speechless. In fact, the whole tavern was speechless. Wolf stood behind his bar enraptured by the proceedings. There was no doubt that Rhema’s control over him had helped to draw him in as well as to keep him from interfering. Now, they could be sure that everyone in the inn would not forget this performance. They would not forget the Darkbringer.

Charis also knew that it was time to unveil the purpose of their performance. She smiled with dark intent. “If you value your life and if you value this pitiful little town, you will find me the one that I seek before it is too late. Do you understand me? If you take much more time, it will be too late.”

Ischarus nodded slowly. His eyes glanced around the portion of the tavern than he could safely examine without turning his head. Most of the patrons were nodding with him. They were caught, and Charis had given the performance of her life. Perhaps most importantly, it appeared as though she enjoyed it, too.

Charis glanced towards Ischarus’ weapon. She smiled as she saw how limply the sword hung in his hand. His elbow appeared to be pinned to the arm of his wooden chair and the hilt of the sword bent his wrist awkwardly. Had he not been so skilled with the art of sword fighting his wrist would have been broken under the strain of supporting the sword at that angle. Even with his training, Charis knew that the position still could not have been pleasant.

Charis’ eyes focused upon the sword as she looked down upon the table from her tall stature. Semeion’s spell was ticking down in effectiveness and timing would be everything. She knew it was time for the dramatic conclusion. “If you value your arm, drop your sword before your wrist breaks.” A thud could be heard as Ischarus capitulated. The tip of the sword struck the wooden floor first and was followed by the hilt.

Charis grinned as she focused on the blade. “Alaxai Pargoth.” The words were utter nonsense and she knew it. She knew that Semeion would recognize the words as nonsense as well. But so long as there weren’t any promising mages in the audience she was safe.

As she spoke the words of nonsense, she dismissed her own effect of the light spell upon Ischarus’ weapon. The blade faded as the light bled away into darkness. From the outsider’s perspective, it looked as though she had absorbed the magic of the blade just as she had done against the flame of the oil lamp. The effect was to make her appear incredibly powerful.

Once the blade appeared to be a normal iron in color she spoke once more. “You know who it is that I seek. You will find Bloodseeker. You will find Bloodseeker and tell him to meet me in Huetown. Bloodseeker will know the place.”

Ischarus allowed his jaw to drop open as if in awe of her power. Mindlessly he allowed his head to bob up and down in a slow nod. After a dozen or more seconds, his eyes finally blinked. “Yes, ma’am. Bloodseeker. Huetown.”

Charis narrowed her eyes in Ischarus’ direction. She knew that Semeion’s spell that made her larger than normal was due to wear off at any moment. “Do not fail me again. If we ever have to meet again I will drain more than the magic of your sword. You will find out another reason they call me the Darkbringer.”

Semeion knew the verbal cue. There could be no doubt. The message had been delivered. Her false power had been demonstrated in a way that made it unforgettable. From his invisible position upon the table he allowed the magical command to slip passed his lips. “Cathra soon-Utal.”

A thick vapor rose up from the ground and seeped through the floorboards of the tavern. Within seconds the midst had made it impossible to see within the entire inn. Visibility had effectively been reduced to zero. Semeion had not given thought to the light of the oil lamps upon the wall, but they only added to the spooky vapor. The light from the lamps was refracted so much that it looked as though will o’ wisps floating through the air.

Semeion quickly dismissed his control over the spell that he had used to enlarge Charis as Darkbringer. Immediately she shrank back to her original size. Seconds later he heard the door to the inn creak open and he left the table and ran to the door. He saw his disguised wife holding the door open for him. He touched her elbow as he passed by and released the magical effect that had changed Charis’ appearance to match the Darkbringer.

Once Charis was sure that Semeion had passed her by, she closed the door and approached the road. She watched as Semeion allowed himself to reappear. He approached her and nodded to the horses. Although it felt completely unnatural, it was important that they left Fingerdale alone. They didn’t dare risk meeting up with Ischarus and Rhema until they were back in Huetown.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus tried to disguise his voice under a frail level of fear. “Please, Darkbringer. Do not injure me. I did the best that I could. I am no lush, but I did focus my search in the taverns of this city. I thought that would be the best place for me to be able to find the one that you are looking for!” His cry was difficult to pull off, because Ischarus was unaccustomed to feeling fear that extensively.

Rhema knew full well that the act was working, however. With Charis turned into the Darkbringer, she would appear more menacing by appearing to be able to disguise her appearance. She also knew that with Semeion’s and her own powers naturally feeding off of Charis’ innate charisma, she would give a much more powerful presentation. Her powers would seem greater than they actually were and this would make her performance memorable. Ischarus’ apparent crumbling before her power would only add credence to the unbelievable.

Charis’ tone continued to increase. “Do you now see the power that you have so casually dismissed in your feeble attempts to hop from bar to bar in search of the one I seek? You thought that my task would be easily dismissed and that you would be allowed to have pleasant afternoons drinking ale while reporting nothing back to me! But I have caught on to your schemes and I will be taken advantage of no longer!”

Rhema knew that Charis was building her presentation to a head now. She seemed to grow quite angry and this would allow Rhema to begin to demonstrate her own range of powers. Rhema cautiously stayed by the front door as she scanned the room. The patrons were now focused on Charis, but they would recognize her as an associate belonging to that table. Rhema intentionally hung back from the door to make it appear as though she was afraid to step into the path of Charis’ tirade. In truth, Rhema was focusing on the nearby oil lamps and torches.

As Rhema focused, the flames from the lamp on the surrounding tables began to grow almost unnaturally large. They didn’t appear to be consuming more oil as they grew in intensity. However, there was no disputing that the flames were increasing in size. What should have been a normal one inch flame now leapt three to four inches off of the end of the wick.

Charis smiled as she saw the increase in flame. Of course, the patrons within the tavern actually saw Darkbringer smile on account of Semeion’s magical transformation. The smile seemed to be one of pure evil pleasure. Ischarus slouched within his seat as if to draw back from the unnatural display of pyrotechnics. Charis stood tall as the flames increased and held her hands out from her side. She cupped her hands as if her fingers were to form a basin.

Ischarus parted his mouth as if to speak, but Charis did not give him the opportunity. “Do you know why they call me Darkbringer? They call me Darkbringer because I have the ability to use light to my advantage. I’ll give you a simple demonstration.”

Rhema focused in on the enlarged flame nearest to Charis’ position. She used her power over the flame to set the flame into motion. The flame left the wick and the oil behind it, but it continued to burn in midair as it crossed over the small space between itself and Charis’ hand. Rhema positioned the flame so that it appeared to be nestled within the cup that Charis’ palm and fingers had formed.

Charis laughed in a slow manner. The laugh demonstrated that she was enjoying the act. “See this flame here? This flame can normally provide light and give off a slight amount of heat. In fact, many people would eventually be burned if they drew this close to the flame for this long. However, this flame gives me power. I can draw off the presence of this very flame and grow stronger. By absorbing its essence, I will cast you in darkness and grow even stronger.”

Rhema slowly moved the flame back to the wick from which it had been taken. Once it had been successfully returned to the oil, Charis lifted her arms and hands out and above her shoulders and spoke in a commanding tone. “Now watch, as you see true power!”

Ischarus slowly pushed her chair back from the table as if in fear. He didn’t rise from his seated position, however. He didn’t want to yet instigate conflict. Rather, he simply wanted to make it appear that he was indeed quite nervous. His eyes opened wide as Charis lifted her arms as if to worship the flame around her.

Rhema took her cue from Ischarus. Using her power to control the magical flame she returned the large flames to their normal size. Once they had been reduced back to a believable size, Rhema focused even harder to push the flames smaller. They appeared to dwindle as Charis focused her attention.

Semeion waited for Charis to play out the act. As the flames decreased in size, Charis began to emit a low humming sound as though she were driving herself into a deep state of meditation. As she hummed, she slowly closed her eyes as if to enter into a trance.

With the closing of Charis’ eyes, Ischarus knew that it would be most believable to strike now. Ischarus drew his sword out of his scabbard and slowly began to rise quietly. With Ischarus’ sword out of the scabbard, the inn was bathed in the magical light that Charis had placed upon it earlier.

Charis smiled as her spell creating light upon the sword told her that Ischarus was moving. She struck out her hand as if to force Ischarus back into the chair. The table was wide enough that Ischarus was no danger of being hit. However, as Ischarus saw Charis strike towards him he acted as though he was pushed back into the chair and restrained their by some hidden force. In apparent surprise, Ischarus spoke. “But, how?”

Charis continued to smile, but did not interrupt her humming. She did not want to grant the patrons of the tavern the answer which would prematurely destroy the tension she had been working hard to build. Ischarus continued to feign restraint for several more seconds until the flames of the nearby candles had been almost completely extinguished.

Only then did Charis speak slowly and deliberately. “I sensed your movement through the magical light of your sword. I have restrained you according to the power that I have absorbed by the flames. Now see what else the flames have given to me!”

As soon as she finished speaking, Rhema focused hard on the flames and caused them all to extinguish simultaneously. The tavern suddenly had a circle of darkness around where Charis stood. The light from the outermost tables and the lamps hung along the wall did continue to cast some light toward Charis, but it was still noticeably darker around Charis and Ischarus. Only the light from Ischarus’ sword cast illumination near Charis with any authority.

Once the flames were extinguished, Charis closed her eyes completely and appeared to concentrate. Semeion smiled, enjoying the performance from his invisible location. He spoke yet another magical command once the flames were eliminated. “Tok-skrie Ah-su “

Charis began to grow in size. Her arms, legs, head and torso doubled. She grew so large as to have her head rub against the rafters supporting the rooftop above. The weapons that hung from her belt continued to grow as well and they were no longer hidden underneath the folds of her traveling cloak. She laughed as each dimension of her body size quite literally doubled. “Would you care to challenge me now, puny man? Do you now think yourself so great that you think you can avoid my power? Do you think you can defeat someone who draws power from the very essence of flame?”

Ischarus sat speechless. In fact, the whole tavern was speechless. Wolf stood behind his bar enraptured by the proceedings. There was no doubt that Rhema’s control over him had helped to draw him in as well as to keep him from interfering. Now, they could be sure that everyone in the inn would not forget this performance. They would not forget the Darkbringer.

Charis also knew that it was time to unveil the purpose of their performance. She smiled with dark intent. “If you value your life and if you value this pitiful little town, you will find me the one that I seek before it is too late. Do you understand me? If you take much more time, it will be too late.”

Ischarus nodded slowly. His eyes glanced around the portion of the tavern than he could safely examine without turning his head. Most of the patrons were nodding with him. They were caught, and Charis had given the performance of her life. Perhaps most importantly, it appeared as though she enjoyed it, too.

Charis glanced towards Ischarus’ weapon. She smiled as she saw how limply the sword hung in his hand. His elbow appeared to be pinned to the arm of his wooden chair and the hilt of the sword bent his wrist awkwardly. Had he not been so skilled with the art of sword fighting his wrist would have been broken under the strain of supporting the sword at that angle. Even with his training, Charis knew that the position still could not have been pleasant.

Charis’ eyes focused upon the sword as she looked down upon the table from her tall stature. Semeion’s spell was ticking down in effectiveness and timing would be everything. She knew it was time for the dramatic conclusion. “If you value your arm, drop your sword before your wrist breaks.” A thud could be heard as Ischarus capitulated. The tip of the sword struck the wooden floor first and was followed by the hilt.

Charis grinned as she focused on the blade. “Alaxai Pargoth.” The words were utter nonsense and she knew it. She knew that Semeion would recognize the words as nonsense as well. But so long as there weren’t any promising mages in the audience she was safe.

As she spoke the words of nonsense, she dismissed her own effect of the light spell upon Ischarus’ weapon. The blade faded as the light bled away into darkness. From the outsider’s perspective, it looked as though she had absorbed the magic of the blade just as she had done against the flame of the oil lamp. The effect was to make her appear incredibly powerful.

Once the blade appeared to be a normal iron in color she spoke once more. “You know who it is that I seek. You will find Bloodseeker. You will find Bloodseeker and tell him to meet me in Huetown. Bloodseeker will know the place.”

Ischarus allowed his jaw to drop open as if in awe of her power. Mindlessly he allowed his head to bob up and down in a slow nod. After a dozen or more seconds, his eyes finally blinked. “Yes, ma’am. Bloodseeker. Huetown.”

Charis narrowed her eyes in Ischarus’ direction. She knew that Semeion’s spell that made her larger than normal was due to wear off at any moment. “Do not fail me again. If we ever have to meet again I will drain more than the magic of your sword. You will find out another reason they call me the Darkbringer.”

Semeion knew the verbal cue. There could be no doubt. The message had been delivered. Her false power had been demonstrated in a way that made it unforgettable. From his invisible position upon the table he allowed the magical command to slip passed his lips. “Cathra soon-Utal.”

A thick vapor rose up from the ground and seeped through the floorboards of the tavern. Within seconds the midst had made it impossible to see within the entire inn. Visibility had effectively been reduced to zero. Semeion had not given thought to the light of the oil lamps upon the wall, but they only added to the spooky vapor. The light from the lamps was refracted so much that it looked as though will o’ wisps floating through the air.

Semeion quickly dismissed his control over the spell that he had used to enlarge Charis as Darkbringer. Immediately she shrank back to her original size. Seconds later he heard the door to the inn creak open and he left the table and ran to the door. He saw his disguised wife holding the door open for him. He touched her elbow as he passed by and released the magical effect that had changed Charis’ appearance to match the Darkbringer.

Once Charis was sure that Semeion had passed her by, she closed the door and approached the road. She watched as Semeion allowed himself to reappear. He approached her and nodded to the horses. Although it felt completely unnatural, it was important that they left Fingerdale alone. They didn’t dare risk meeting up with Ischarus and Rhema until they were back in Huetown. [/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Four long days passed from the time that the foursome had given their dramatic performance in the Shrouded Tenor. They had managed to meet up back at the burned villa without difficulty along the way. During the day, Rhema’s father had made significant progress in planning for his new home. He had even gone so far as to wade through the nearby forest and mark trees that would likely be good for producing lumber for the construction.

The party had decided to stay away from Fingerdale for a few days and see if their performance brought about any results. It didn’t make sense to repeat the performance in other areas within Fingerdale because there would be the risk that the residents of Fingerdale would grow suspicious. If they gave the performance too often it would become obvious that it was simply just a performance.

Through the use of the horses, the stones and the burned out timbers were easily cleared. The site for the new villa was well on the way to being prepared for the time when the servants returned from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley. Iasho had received word that the servants had left from Barghost and were due to return in no more than two week’s time. If they worked hard, then they could have the new site prepared in addition to having the fields sown with seed once more. If the seeds could be sown, the coming servants could focus on helping to build the villa while the seeds germinated in the ground.

On the fourth day since the performance, Iasho and the foursome were in the fields planting seed when a sudden movement caught the eyes of Iasho and Charis. Both Iasho and Charis stood up and focused on the movement. Rhea, Ischarus, and Semeion saw the curiosity of their friends and they turned.

Semeion spoke quickly to his wife. “Charis? What is it?”

Charis didn’t speak in reply, but she did nod in the direction that she had seen movement. As she nodded, everyone saw a tall figure dressed in leather armor and a dark gray cloak emerge from the woods. As soon as the figure realized that he had been spotted, he stopped and examined the situation.

The figure wore a confused look upon his face. It appeared as though he had not been expecting to find five people standing around the fields. As the party studied what little they could see of his face from the distance, they noticed that his face appeared deeply scarred. His hair was clipped short, and it revealed several scars left over from strikes taken to the head.

Ischarus stepped forward and spoke. “Bloodseeker?” His voice rang through forest as he called across the field.

The figure stepped back into edge of the forest and began to run away. Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho immediately began to pursue the man, but the soft ground of the burned field made it difficult to follow with any speed. Semeion and Charis could tell immediately that they didn’t have much chance to catch the figure on foot if they had to run across the field first.

Semeion called out to the rest of the party. “Keep pursuing him, he might be the one we were looking for. Charis and I will go get our horses and circle around the edge of the forest.”

Ischarus nodded as he ran. Rhema and Iasho struggled to keep up with the speed that his powerful legs were able to generate in the loose soil. However, even with Ischarus’ strong legs the unknown man was easily escaping through the forest.

Within seconds Charis and Semeion were mounted atop their horses and riding along the edge of the field towards the forest. They were able to keep to the untilled ground and thus ride the horses hard. Charis yelled to Semeion as he followed closely behind. “I’ll circle left, you circle right. We’ll eventually both get to the road that leads back to Fingerdale. If we can get there by going around the trees before he can get to the road by going through them, we can contain him!”

Charis could tell that Semeion had heard her directions by the sound of the horse hooves behind her. He hadn’t replied, but he did guide Thana to the right. The thundering of Thana’s hooves upon the ground was growing further away. Charis dug her heels into Abijou’s side and spurred him to the forest edge.

She reached the spot in the forest where the man had first appeared. She was slightly behind Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho. As she crossed the edge of the forest behind them she called through the trees. “Drive him through the trees toward the road. Semeion and I will be on the other side waiting!”

Iasho stopped and turned around. He yelled to his daughter as he slowed. “Keep pressing forward. I’ll go back and protect the other three horses!”

Ischarus was already pushing forward with effort, and he didn’t hear his father-in-law call the directions. Rhema did hear him, and she paused long enough to turn around. “Be careful, father! If he circles back to retrieve our horses, you’ll be alone!”

Iasho nodded and turned back to the location of the villa. He began to walk, knowing that it was not necessary for him to hurry. Rhema turned back to find Ischarus. He was trying to follow the man’s trail as quickly as possible. If she flanked his position she would be better able to prevent the man from doubling back upon her father.

The chase through the forest lasted for more than a mile before reaching the road to Fingerdale. The horses riding around the edge of the forest traveled far more than a mile in their route. In spite of the greater distance, both of the horses were able to make it to the other side before Ischarus and Rhema could make it through.

The road had been cut through the forest almost a century earlier in an attempt to enable quicker trade routes. Semeion circumvented the forest on the edge closest to Fingerdale. As he rounded the forest and brought Thana onto the rode, he saw a small cart coming in his direction. The cart was driven by an elderly woman and pulled by a simple mule. The woman was dressed in a simple tattered cloak and was only armed by an old prodding stick.

When the woman spotted Semeion coming towards her from the edge of the forest, she called out in a raised voice. “Stay back, bandit! I have leprosy! You may wish to rob me, but if you come close enough to touch me you will steal more than you bargained for!”

Semeion smiled and muttered to himself in a soft enough tone that there was no possible way that the woman could have heard him. “Leprosy, huh? Yeah, I bet that it’s leprosy. More than likely it’s a rouse to keep me from searching the cart. I smell something foul.”

Semeion smiled politely and directed Thana to approach from the front. “I’m actually tracking criminal movement through these woods, ma’am. I’ll respect your leprosy, but I will ask you to stop your mule and leave your cart for inspection.”

The woman smiled politely. “If you insist.” The woman pulled back on the mule’s reigns to get it to stop. “But just be careful. Leprosy can spread by touching any part of my skin whether it is attached to me or not.”

Semeion dismounted and left Thana to wander about ten feet from the cart. He drew back his cloak and revealed his blade. “If you don’t mind, I can use steel to search for criminal signs.”

The woman backed up upon hearing Semeion’s assertion. She abandoned her cart and allowed Semeion to approach and search it. Despite a thorough search, Semeion only found a few fruits and vegetables. There was no place for anyone to hide within the cart.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the short woman. “I’m sorry for holding you up, ma’am. You’ve been more than patient and cooperative. Are you heading to Fingerdale?”

The woman approached the cart as Semeion backed away to return to Thana’s saddle. She smiled as she sat upon the driver’s bench. “Indeed I am.”

Semeion nodded to the woman as he swung himself up into the saddle. “Have a safe travel, then. Hopefully your mule can get you there before the sun goes down.”

The woman smiled and moved further down the road. Semeion traveled in the opposite direction towards where he was sure the man would have to emerge from the forest. Several minutes later he came upon Ischarus, Rhema, and Charis standing on the side of the road. Charis was still mounted.

Rhema waved Semeion over when she spotted him coming. “No luck?”

Semeion shook his head. “No. I didn’t see anyone except an old woman driving a mule cart down the road. You all didn’t find anything?”

Ischarus looked alarmed. “No, we didn’t. Although we do know the man came out of the woods here. Did you investigate the woman?”

Semeion nodded. “Yeah, pretty thoroughly. She claimed to have leprosy, so I didn’t touch her. But I rummaged through her cart and couldn’t find a thing.”

Charis peered down the road, but the woman was well out of view by this time. “But the woman, could she have been the man disguised?”

Semeion shook his head. “No way. She was old and decrepit. She was hunched over, even. And even had she been able to stand up straight, she was a full foot shorter than the man. She was tiny, that man was tall. Not even the best disguise can alter a person’s height.”

The other three frowned. Ischarus spoke the inevitable conclusion. “If the woman wasn’t somehow disguised, then we’ve lost him. He clearly came out of the forest here, and didn’t go back in. He didn’t cross over the road and enter the forest on the other side. One way or another, he seems to have just vanished.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree. And if that was the Bloodseeker, we may have just tipped him off to disappear. If he was coming to find Darkbringer and found us instead, he would have known it was a trap. If that was Bloodseeker, then the trap won’t work anymore.”

Charis sighed heavily and offered a hand to Ischarus. “Well, we aren’t going to solve anything standing her all depressed. Ischarus, ride with me. Rhema, ride with Semeion. Let’s get back to the villa and make sure Iasho is alright.”

The frustrated foursome slowly headed back to the burned out villa. It would take a fair amount of planning to decide where to go from here. Their best lead had just managed to slip through their fingers.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Four long days passed from the time that the foursome had given their dramatic performance in the Shrouded Tenor. They had managed to meet up back at the burned villa without difficulty along the way. During the day, Rhema’s father had made significant progress in planning for his new home. He had even gone so far as to wade through the nearby forest and mark trees that would likely be good for producing lumber for the construction.

The party had decided to stay away from Fingerdale for a few days and see if their performance brought about any results. It didn’t make sense to repeat the performance in other areas within Fingerdale because there would be the risk that the residents of Fingerdale would grow suspicious. If they gave the performance too often it would become obvious that it was simply just a performance.

Through the use of the horses, the stones and the burned out timbers were easily cleared. The site for the new villa was well on the way to being prepared for the time when the servants returned from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley. Iasho had received word that the servants had left from Barghost and were due to return in no more than two week’s time. If they worked hard, then they could have the new site prepared in addition to having the fields sown with seed once more. If the seeds could be sown, the coming servants could focus on helping to build the villa while the seeds germinated in the ground.

On the fourth day since the performance, Iasho and the foursome were in the fields planting seed when a sudden movement caught the eyes of Iasho and Charis. Both Iasho and Charis stood up and focused on the movement. Rhea, Ischarus, and Semeion saw the curiosity of their friends and they turned.

Semeion spoke quickly to his wife. “Charis? What is it?”

Charis didn’t speak in reply, but she did nod in the direction that she had seen movement. As she nodded, everyone saw a tall figure dressed in leather armor and a dark gray cloak emerge from the woods. As soon as the figure realized that he had been spotted, he stopped and examined the situation.

The figure wore a confused look upon his face. It appeared as though he had not been expecting to find five people standing around the fields. As the party studied what little they could see of his face from the distance, they noticed that his face appeared deeply scarred. His hair was clipped short, and it revealed several scars left over from strikes taken to the head.

Ischarus stepped forward and spoke. “Bloodseeker?” His voice rang through forest as he called across the field.

The figure stepped back into edge of the forest and began to run away. Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho immediately began to pursue the man, but the soft ground of the burned field made it difficult to follow with any speed. Semeion and Charis could tell immediately that they didn’t have much chance to catch the figure on foot if they had to run across the field first.

Semeion called out to the rest of the party. “Keep pursuing him, he might be the one we were looking for. Charis and I will go get our horses and circle around the edge of the forest.”

Ischarus nodded as he ran. Rhema and Iasho struggled to keep up with the speed that his powerful legs were able to generate in the loose soil. However, even with Ischarus’ strong legs the unknown man was easily escaping through the forest.

Within seconds Charis and Semeion were mounted atop their horses and riding along the edge of the field towards the forest. They were able to keep to the untilled ground and thus ride the horses hard. Charis yelled to Semeion as he followed closely behind. “I’ll circle left, you circle right. We’ll eventually both get to the road that leads back to Fingerdale. If we can get there by going around the trees before he can get to the road by going through them, we can contain him!”

Charis could tell that Semeion had heard her directions by the sound of the horse hooves behind her. He hadn’t replied, but he did guide Thana to the right. The thundering of Thana’s hooves upon the ground was growing further away. Charis dug her heels into Abijou’s side and spurred him to the forest edge.

She reached the spot in the forest where the man had first appeared. She was slightly behind Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho. As she crossed the edge of the forest behind them she called through the trees. “Drive him through the trees toward the road. Semeion and I will be on the other side waiting!”

Iasho stopped and turned around. He yelled to his daughter as he slowed. “Keep pressing forward. I’ll go back and protect the other three horses!”

Ischarus was already pushing forward with effort, and he didn’t hear his father-in-law call the directions. Rhema did hear him, and she paused long enough to turn around. “Be careful, father! If he circles back to retrieve our horses, you’ll be alone!”

Iasho nodded and turned back to the location of the villa. He began to walk, knowing that it was not necessary for him to hurry. Rhema turned back to find Ischarus. He was trying to follow the man’s trail as quickly as possible. If she flanked his position she would be better able to prevent the man from doubling back upon her father.

The chase through the forest lasted for more than a mile before reaching the road to Fingerdale. The horses riding around the edge of the forest traveled far more than a mile in their route. In spite of the greater distance, both of the horses were able to make it to the other side before Ischarus and Rhema could make it through.

The road had been cut through the forest almost a century earlier in an attempt to enable quicker trade routes. Semeion circumvented the forest on the edge closest to Fingerdale. As he rounded the forest and brought Thana onto the rode, he saw a small cart coming in his direction. The cart was driven by an elderly woman and pulled by a simple mule. The woman was dressed in a simple tattered cloak and was only armed by an old prodding stick.

When the woman spotted Semeion coming towards her from the edge of the forest, she called out in a raised voice. “Stay back, bandit! I have leprosy! You may wish to rob me, but if you come close enough to touch me you will steal more than you bargained for!”

Semeion smiled and muttered to himself in a soft enough tone that there was no possible way that the woman could have heard him. “Leprosy, huh? Yeah, I bet that it’s leprosy. More than likely it’s a rouse to keep me from searching the cart. I smell something foul.”

Semeion smiled politely and directed Thana to approach from the front. “I’m actually tracking criminal movement through these woods, ma’am. I’ll respect your leprosy, but I will ask you to stop your mule and leave your cart for inspection.”

The woman smiled politely. “If you insist.” The woman pulled back on the mule’s reigns to get it to stop. “But just be careful. Leprosy can spread by touching any part of my skin whether it is attached to me or not.”

Semeion dismounted and left Thana to wander about ten feet from the cart. He drew back his cloak and revealed his blade. “If you don’t mind, I can use steel to search for criminal signs.”

The woman backed up upon hearing Semeion’s assertion. She abandoned her cart and allowed Semeion to approach and search it. Despite a thorough search, Semeion only found a few fruits and vegetables. There was no place for anyone to hide within the cart.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the short woman. “I’m sorry for holding you up, ma’am. You’ve been more than patient and cooperative. Are you heading to Fingerdale?”

The woman approached the cart as Semeion backed away to return to Thana’s saddle. She smiled as she sat upon the driver’s bench. “Indeed I am.”

Semeion nodded to the woman as he swung himself up into the saddle. “Have a safe travel, then. Hopefully your mule can get you there before the sun goes down.”

The woman smiled and moved further down the road. Semeion traveled in the opposite direction towards where he was sure the man would have to emerge from the forest. Several minutes later he came upon Ischarus, Rhema, and Charis standing on the side of the road. Charis was still mounted.

Rhema waved Semeion over when she spotted him coming. “No luck?”

Semeion shook his head. “No. I didn’t see anyone except an old woman driving a mule cart down the road. You all didn’t find anything?”

Ischarus looked alarmed. “No, we didn’t. Although we do know the man came out of the woods here. Did you investigate the woman?”

Semeion nodded. “Yeah, pretty thoroughly. She claimed to have leprosy, so I didn’t touch her. But I rummaged through her cart and couldn’t find a thing.”

Charis peered down the road, but the woman was well out of view by this time. “But the woman, could she have been the man disguised?”

Semeion shook his head. “No way. She was old and decrepit. She was hunched over, even. And even had she been able to stand up straight, she was a full foot shorter than the man. She was tiny, that man was tall. Not even the best disguise can alter a person’s height.”

The other three frowned. Ischarus spoke the inevitable conclusion. “If the woman wasn’t somehow disguised, then we’ve lost him. He clearly came out of the forest here, and didn’t go back in. He didn’t cross over the road and enter the forest on the other side. One way or another, he seems to have just vanished.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree. And if that was the Bloodseeker, we may have just tipped him off to disappear. If he was coming to find Darkbringer and found us instead, he would have known it was a trap. If that was Bloodseeker, then the trap won’t work anymore.”

Charis sighed heavily and offered a hand to Ischarus. “Well, we aren’t going to solve anything standing her all depressed. Ischarus, ride with me. Rhema, ride with Semeion. Let’s get back to the villa and make sure Iasho is alright.”

The frustrated foursome slowly headed back to the burned out villa. It would take a fair amount of planning to decide where to go from here. Their best lead had just managed to slip through their fingers.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The following day, the foursome decided to set off and return to the Shrouded Tenor. Something they had done during their first visit had obviously touch someone who knew how to find the Bloodseeker. They were confident that the message had been received in spite of their inability to handle Bloodseeker’s coming to Huetown and the burned out villa. Of course, this was assuming that the man who appeared out of the forest was indeed Bloodseeker. However, that seemed like a reasonable assumption to make.

The Drakontai returning to the villa from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley would likely be another week in coming. Iasho and the foursome had gotten a good start on replanting the fields. It was undeniable that there was still plenty of work that could be accomplished if they remained at the site of the destruction. However, in spite of the necessary work the party still headed to Huetown.

Rhema looked down from her horse at her father who was standing at her side. “Are you sure that you wish us to leave, father? We could get a fair amount of planting done today.”

Semeion turned to look at the sky to the east just above the trees. “The weather looks favorable, at least. It should be a clear and bright day for work in the fields, but it doesn’t feel like it’ll be too hot to work the ground, either.”

Iasho smiled pleasantly but dismissed the comments of the party. “No. The work of the villa will be done when we have time to do it. The workers are returning home, and they are growing quite skilled in learning how to care for the earth and the plants within. They can do that work if it still needs doing when they arrive. You four are the only ones who can find this Bloodseeker in the present. A day away from the fields will not hurt us any more than the fire already did. Go, and have a profitable day looking for the man who came yesterday.”

Rhema once more looked down upon her father with love in her eyes. “And you will promise to be safe? If we leave, you will be alone. Should Bloodseeker return with reinforcements you could be caught.”

Iasho allowed a soft chuckle to pass through his person and out of his mouth. “What would they want with an old farmer? They have already destroyed my home and my ability to maintain my wealth. If they were at all serious about wanting me for any reason, then there are far better means to reach that purpose. If they want an old man, I will not be afraid.”

Ischarus laughed heartily. “You are far from old, Iasho. The work that you have accomplished so far in preparing the land demonstrates that. You do not give yourself enough credit. But even so I agree with you. I do not think it is you that they are after. If someone wanted to kidnap you and they knew about the work that this villa supports, they would have waited a few weeks. By then we would have been well on our way to Quehalost and away from the villa for several weeks on end. Then they could have taken you and allowed their trail to grow cold before we returned.”

Abijou pawed at the ground. Charis looked to the west in response. “The horses are restless, today. It’s been a while since they’ve done anything but pull boulders and burned timber across the ground. For their sake, I think we should be on our way, and with haste. Let’s let our horses run as they desire.”

Ischarus smiled and nodded at Charis’ encouragement. He spun Elistra around and with a quick jab of his heel she sprang forward. The remaining three horses didn’t need much encouragement from their riders to follow Elistra. As the nature of the horses governed, Shauvry soon overtook Elistra and lead the party to the road in the direction of Fingerdale. The few miles would pass quite quickly with the speed of the horses consuming the distance.

It took the party about as much time to reach Fingerdale as it did to find the Shrouded Tenor once they were within the city walls. It was not permissible to allow the horses to move in any fashion quicker than a trot within the walls without a guarded escort. Considering that the horses had been permitted to gallop much of the distance between Huetown and Fingerdale this regulation was actually helpful. The speed regulations forced the horses to walk and cool down their muscles before being tied to the posts in front of the Shrouded Tenor.

Once the horses were tied, the foursome strutted back into the tavern. Semeion had originally been concerned about showing up together and revealing that their earlier show had simply been bait for anyone who knew Bloodseeker. The rest of the party was quick to illustrate that their cover had already been blown. If the man from the prior day was indeed Bloodseeker, he would now know that the presence of Darkbringer was a hoax.

Inside the tavern, the scene looked much as it had almost a week ago. Wolf the Stout stood behind the bar. At the present, he was slaving over a cooking fire with a wooden spoon in one hand and a long cutting knife in the other. The woman who had been talking to the dwarf the other day was once more seated at the bar, although this time the woman and Wolf were not in direct dialogue. The rest of the tavern was composed of a smattering of patrons. Some of the patrons were the same while others were new.

The dwarf turned to look at the party as they opened the door to his tavern. He automatically smiled at the sound of the opening of the door. However, his smile quickly faded into bitterness as he recognized the foursome from before. The woman sitting on the other side of the bar followed his glare across the room and also spotted the foursome. Her smile did not vanish.

Wolf lifted the spoon and pointed it in the direction of Charis. “We’ll have none of your dramatic displays of power today, do you hear? Your antics frightened away several of my good customers for a few days. I’ll not tolerate that kind of behavior again!”

The bartender’s voice was stern and his deep voice filled the room. His tone was a ploy. It was designed to come across as stern but reassuring. Several of the patrons who were present both today and for the prior visit had begun to look nervous when Charis again walked into the tavern. Wolf’s stern warning gave them the confidence that they needed to remain in the tavern with a feeling of security.

The woman sitting by the bar turned back to the dwarf and continued to smile as though she were enjoying the scene. “Wolf, please. I rather enjoyed the show, myself. The effects of the magic were dramatic, and there wasn’t any harm done to a single person at all. In fact, I don’t think that any harm was done to your tavern, even. Unless you want to count the fact that you had to relight a single candle.”

Wolf frowned and allowed a grumble of disapproval to usher forth. It was barely audible, although it wasn’t truly composed of words in the first place. The grumble was merely a commentary regarding the dwarf’s impression of the fact that the woman was taking the side of the foursome.

The woman continued to speak. “Oh, Wolf. Sometimes I think that you worry all too much.”

Rhema approached the woman from her left side and rested her forearms on top of the bar. “Oh, I can assure you that there will be no trouble today. In fact, I can also reassure you in the fact that we’re here on official business only. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re here to gather a bit more information.”

Wolf sneered a bit. “Seems to me that you were here to get information the last time you came.”

Ischarus stepped up beside his wife. “Oh, please, Wolf. You know as well as I do that the last time we weren’t here at all to get some information! We were here to disseminate some information. We had a message to deliver. Today is different.”

The dwarf snapped a reply back to the much taller Drakontos. “Just what kind of establishment do you think that I run here? This is not some underground gathering for information! We are not here to serve your communal needs. We are here to serve some beef, chicken, and maybe a pint or two of ale.”

Semeion smiled, but refrained from approaching the bar. Instead, Semeion turned his head slightly so that he could take in many of the occupants of the tavern. “And yet, Wolf, our message was received. Someone in this establishment got the message that we intended to be delivered. And my money is that you know who we are looking for. I don’t think you are nearly as simple as you pretend to be.”

The dwarf glared toward Semeion. “I know no such thing! This is an honest business!”

Suddenly Charis reached out and touched Semeion on the forearm. “Look! There he is!” Charis was pointing out the window next to the door. The face of the man who had come to the villa yesterday walked past the window as if on his way to the door to come in.

Together, Semeion and Charis charged the door. Ischarus and Rhema had been focusing on Wolf, so by the time they turned around to look at the face of the man it had moved beyond the window. As it was, they were slower in responding to Charis’ statement than Semeion. By the time Ischarus and Rhema knew to move, Semeion and Charis were already at the door.

The door sprang open from the inside. Charis exploded through the door with Semeion immediately following her. The young mage nearly collided with his wife as Charis stopped immediately upon bursting through the door. When Semeion took time to look around at what Charis had seen, he understood why she had stopped short.

Ischarus slowed once he saw that Charis and Semeion had stopped. “Charis? What’s wrong?”

Charis shook her head. “He’s gone! I saw the face and shoulders walk past the window. But he’s gone!”

Semeion narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like this. Bloodseeker is playing games with us. He is deliberately setting us up, and we can do nothing but fall victim. This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’ve got to figure out how to do this on our terms.”

Slowly the door to the outside closed as Charis and Semeion stepped back inside. The foursome had a dejected look about them, as if the confidence that had been so strong inside of them only moments before had now been deflated. They took up occupancy in one of the booths along the wall opposite the bar and ordered and early lunch.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The following day, the foursome decided to set off and return to the Shrouded Tenor. Something they had done during their first visit had obviously touch someone who knew how to find the Bloodseeker. They were confident that the message had been received in spite of their inability to handle Bloodseeker’s coming to Huetown and the burned out villa. Of course, this was assuming that the man who appeared out of the forest was indeed Bloodseeker. However, that seemed like a reasonable assumption to make.

The Drakontai returning to the villa from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley would likely be another week in coming. Iasho and the foursome had gotten a good start on replanting the fields. It was undeniable that there was still plenty of work that could be accomplished if they remained at the site of the destruction. However, in spite of the necessary work the party still headed to Huetown.

Rhema looked down from her horse at her father who was standing at her side. “Are you sure that you wish us to leave, father? We could get a fair amount of planting done today.”

Semeion turned to look at the sky to the east just above the trees. “The weather looks favorable, at least. It should be a clear and bright day for work in the fields, but it doesn’t feel like it’ll be too hot to work the ground, either.”

Iasho smiled pleasantly but dismissed the comments of the party. “No. The work of the villa will be done when we have time to do it. The workers are returning home, and they are growing quite skilled in learning how to care for the earth and the plants within. They can do that work if it still needs doing when they arrive. You four are the only ones who can find this Bloodseeker in the present. A day away from the fields will not hurt us any more than the fire already did. Go, and have a profitable day looking for the man who came yesterday.”

Rhema once more looked down upon her father with love in her eyes. “And you will promise to be safe? If we leave, you will be alone. Should Bloodseeker return with reinforcements you could be caught.”

Iasho allowed a soft chuckle to pass through his person and out of his mouth. “What would they want with an old farmer? They have already destroyed my home and my ability to maintain my wealth. If they were at all serious about wanting me for any reason, then there are far better means to reach that purpose. If they want an old man, I will not be afraid.”

Ischarus laughed heartily. “You are far from old, Iasho. The work that you have accomplished so far in preparing the land demonstrates that. You do not give yourself enough credit. But even so I agree with you. I do not think it is you that they are after. If someone wanted to kidnap you and they knew about the work that this villa supports, they would have waited a few weeks. By then we would have been well on our way to Quehalost and away from the villa for several weeks on end. Then they could have taken you and allowed their trail to grow cold before we returned.”

Abijou pawed at the ground. Charis looked to the west in response. “The horses are restless, today. It’s been a while since they’ve done anything but pull boulders and burned timber across the ground. For their sake, I think we should be on our way, and with haste. Let’s let our horses run as they desire.”

Ischarus smiled and nodded at Charis’ encouragement. He spun Elistra around and with a quick jab of his heel she sprang forward. The remaining three horses didn’t need much encouragement from their riders to follow Elistra. As the nature of the horses governed, Shauvry soon overtook Elistra and lead the party to the road in the direction of Fingerdale. The few miles would pass quite quickly with the speed of the horses consuming the distance.

It took the party about as much time to reach Fingerdale as it did to find the Shrouded Tenor once they were within the city walls. It was not permissible to allow the horses to move in any fashion quicker than a trot within the walls without a guarded escort. Considering that the horses had been permitted to gallop much of the distance between Huetown and Fingerdale this regulation was actually helpful. The speed regulations forced the horses to walk and cool down their muscles before being tied to the posts in front of the Shrouded Tenor.

Once the horses were tied, the foursome strutted back into the tavern. Semeion had originally been concerned about showing up together and revealing that their earlier show had simply been bait for anyone who knew Bloodseeker. The rest of the party was quick to illustrate that their cover had already been blown. If the man from the prior day was indeed Bloodseeker, he would now know that the presence of Darkbringer was a hoax.

Inside the tavern, the scene looked much as it had almost a week ago. Wolf the Stout stood behind the bar. At the present, he was slaving over a cooking fire with a wooden spoon in one hand and a long cutting knife in the other. The woman who had been talking to the dwarf the other day was once more seated at the bar, although this time the woman and Wolf were not in direct dialogue. The rest of the tavern was composed of a smattering of patrons. Some of the patrons were the same while others were new.

The dwarf turned to look at the party as they opened the door to his tavern. He automatically smiled at the sound of the opening of the door. However, his smile quickly faded into bitterness as he recognized the foursome from before. The woman sitting on the other side of the bar followed his glare across the room and also spotted the foursome. Her smile did not vanish.

Wolf lifted the spoon and pointed it in the direction of Charis. “We’ll have none of your dramatic displays of power today, do you hear? Your antics frightened away several of my good customers for a few days. I’ll not tolerate that kind of behavior again!”

The bartender’s voice was stern and his deep voice filled the room. His tone was a ploy. It was designed to come across as stern but reassuring. Several of the patrons who were present both today and for the prior visit had begun to look nervous when Charis again walked into the tavern. Wolf’s stern warning gave them the confidence that they needed to remain in the tavern with a feeling of security.

The woman sitting by the bar turned back to the dwarf and continued to smile as though she were enjoying the scene. “Wolf, please. I rather enjoyed the show, myself. The effects of the magic were dramatic, and there wasn’t any harm done to a single person at all. In fact, I don’t think that any harm was done to your tavern, even. Unless you want to count the fact that you had to relight a single candle.”

Wolf frowned and allowed a grumble of disapproval to usher forth. It was barely audible, although it wasn’t truly composed of words in the first place. The grumble was merely a commentary regarding the dwarf’s impression of the fact that the woman was taking the side of the foursome.

The woman continued to speak. “Oh, Wolf. Sometimes I think that you worry all too much.”

Rhema approached the woman from her left side and rested her forearms on top of the bar. “Oh, I can assure you that there will be no trouble today. In fact, I can also reassure you in the fact that we’re here on official business only. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re here to gather a bit more information.”

Wolf sneered a bit. “Seems to me that you were here to get information the last time you came.”

Ischarus stepped up beside his wife. “Oh, please, Wolf. You know as well as I do that the last time we weren’t here at all to get some information! We were here to disseminate some information. We had a message to deliver. Today is different.”

The dwarf snapped a reply back to the much taller Drakontos. “Just what kind of establishment do you think that I run here? This is not some underground gathering for information! We are not here to serve your communal needs. We are here to serve some beef, chicken, and maybe a pint or two of ale.”

Semeion smiled, but refrained from approaching the bar. Instead, Semeion turned his head slightly so that he could take in many of the occupants of the tavern. “And yet, Wolf, our message was received. Someone in this establishment got the message that we intended to be delivered. And my money is that you know who we are looking for. I don’t think you are nearly as simple as you pretend to be.”

The dwarf glared toward Semeion. “I know no such thing! This is an honest business!”

Suddenly Charis reached out and touched Semeion on the forearm. “Look! There he is!” Charis was pointing out the window next to the door. The face of the man who had come to the villa yesterday walked past the window as if on his way to the door to come in.

Together, Semeion and Charis charged the door. Ischarus and Rhema had been focusing on Wolf, so by the time they turned around to look at the face of the man it had moved beyond the window. As it was, they were slower in responding to Charis’ statement than Semeion. By the time Ischarus and Rhema knew to move, Semeion and Charis were already at the door.

The door sprang open from the inside. Charis exploded through the door with Semeion immediately following her. The young mage nearly collided with his wife as Charis stopped immediately upon bursting through the door. When Semeion took time to look around at what Charis had seen, he understood why she had stopped short.

Ischarus slowed once he saw that Charis and Semeion had stopped. “Charis? What’s wrong?”

Charis shook her head. “He’s gone! I saw the face and shoulders walk past the window. But he’s gone!”

Semeion narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like this. Bloodseeker is playing games with us. He is deliberately setting us up, and we can do nothing but fall victim. This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’ve got to figure out how to do this on our terms.”

Slowly the door to the outside closed as Charis and Semeion stepped back inside. The foursome had a dejected look about them, as if the confidence that had been so strong inside of them only moments before had now been deflated. They took up occupancy in one of the booths along the wall opposite the bar and ordered and early lunch.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The foursome sulked over lunch and a few ales. It was clear that Bloodseeker had been waiting to strike against them. It was actually clear to them that Bloodseeker had been specifically waiting for them to come into the Shrouded Tenor so that he could use the place against them in the same manner as they had used the tavern against him.

Ischarus lightly bounced his fist against the top of the table when he was finished with his meal. “I just don’t like being played, that’s all.”

Semeion chuckled at Ischarus’ response. “Even though we clearly played Bloodseeker in the same manner and started it? You know what they say. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.”

Ischarus glared at Semeion. It was quite clear the comment wasn’t welcome at the present time. Rhema saw Ischarus’ foul mood and intervened. “Listen, guys. Either way, arguing amongst ourselves only gives Bloodseeker what he wants. If we let ourselves get bothered by having the tables turned then we are letting him win. It’s as simple as that.”

The two men locked glances as if to signal a truth. Their expressions lacked any sign of an apology, but they did note that Rhema had been heard and understood. Semeion leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply.

Charis nibbled on a callus just to the left of one of her fingernails as she spoke. She wanted to take the opportunity Rhema had given to her and continue to change the angle of the conversation. “You see, the thing that bothers me most of all is that Bloodseeker knew when we would be here. From his perspective, I think it was reasonably predictable that we would return some day. But Bloodseeker was ready for us today at this time. So either he was watching the tavern all day or there is an informant in here.”

Rhema nodded and spoke quickly so as to keep the men from talking until they had more of a chance to cool their tempers and their tongues. “Yeah. I think that it is pretty reasonable to think that there is an informant within the tavern. After all, that’s precisely what we were hoping for when we came in here the first time. Someone took our original message back to Bloodseeker and informed him of our message. “

Charis continued to speak with a smirk towards Rhema. “Good point. It’d be reasonable to think that if there was an informant here on the day we came that Bloodseeker would have the informant in here again waiting for us.”

Semeion spoke before Rhema could take the reigns once more. He had noted the exchange of expressions between Charis and Rhema earlier and their ploy made him smile. “Yeah, but there wasn’t much time from when we entered the tavern to when we saw Bloodseeker outside. I don’t know if that was enough time to summon Bloodseeker unless he was really close at hand.”

Charis turned to Semeion and looked innocently upon her husband. “Or, perhaps Bloodseeker knows magic like you do? If Bloodseeker can master the magic of teleportation, then I am pretty sure that Bloodseeer could master the magic of scrying and magical messaging.”

Ischarus nodded in partial agreement. “Yeah, I suppose that is certainly possible. But if Bloodseeker was powerful enough to master the magic of teleportation, why would he risk retreating through the woods the other day? No offense, Semeion, but most mages are reasonably frail. Their mental tasks prevent them from developing too physically. If he could master teleportation and scrying magic, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all to show up at the villa and find us waiting for him.”

Rhema nodded in complete agreement with her husband. “That is definitely true. If Bloodseeker was a true master of magic, then he sure played the other day poorly, at least tactically speaking.”

Semeion picked up the conversation next. He smiled as he realized that since he had last spoken the conversation had worked its way counterclockwise around the table. He would continue the trend. “Yeah, I doubt Bloodseeker knows great magic. It doesn’t fit the experience we’ve had so far. However, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Bloodseeker knew a bit of magic. Our experiences have always included something strange.”

Semeion’s mind began to turn under this new realization. The party sat silent for a few moments before Charis spoke. “Well, we’re done with our meal. What’s say we go get our horses and head out? If Bloodseeker has a spy in here, we best not say too much too loudly.”

They exchanged a few more words and left the tavern. Rhema paid the bill and exchanged a few pleasantries with Wolf. She indicated that his food was good and to help make up for their earlier trouble they would return and bring business to his door. The party headed to their horses and began to ride them through Fingerdale.

Before they could reach the city gates, the party came upon a small gathering of people. There were harried voices calling out through the crowd. The random exclamations informed the party that the city guard had already been summoned, there was some kind of physical exchange occurring further down the alley, and a few people were placing bets as to the outcome.

Ischarus spun his horse to face the alley and stood in his saddle. “Move, people! We can help and separate them!”

Rhema rolled her eyes. She spoke softly to herself. “By the gods, here we go again.” She shouted a little louder to Ischarus, who was preparing to wade through the crowd atop Elistra. “Don’t you dare draw a weapon, Ischarus! I’ll not have you held and questioned by the city guard again!”

Ischarus smiled at Rhema’s words. Sometimes doing the right thing meant putting himself in jeopardy. He looked down and noted that the crowds began to slowly part in front of him. It would be a slow passage, and he certainly couldn’t use the strength of his horse to push people aside. That would inevitably cause more trouble than he would desire.

Ischarus also noted the sounds of the rest of the horses falling into line behind Elistra. Charis brought Abijou first and was followed by Semeion atop Thana and Rhema atop Shauvry. If they were going to get into trouble with the guard today, it would be a group effort this time. Ischarus smiled cynically as he slowly urged Elistra through the crowd.

When they had pushed the horses through the crowd and drew close enough to the confrontation they stared with wide eyes upon recognizing one of the combatants. They were too far away to hear exactly what was being said between the pair of fighting men, but it was clear that one of the men was Bloodseeker. Ischarus fought the urge to surge through the crowd upon recognizing Bloodseeker. His eyes narrowed in focus upon the combat as he continued to slowly wade through the people.

The pair of men fought with swords. Bloodseeker fought with a short sword in one hand and left his second hand free for balance. His opponent slashed at him with a pair of daggers. They exchanged blows several times, each fighter parrying the blow of the other.

Bloodseeker finally slashed out and struck a clean blow across his opponent’s right thigh. It looked to be a strike of great opportunity at first. However, Bloodseeker’s opponent quickly turned the blunder into a great opportunity. Bloodseeker’s opponent revealed all too quickly that the opening in his defenses had been quite intentional. He had opened himself up to draw Bloodseeker close. Once Bloodseeker landed the anticipated strike, Bloodseeker’s opponent slashed forward with both daggers in a simultaneous strike at Bloodseeker’s chest.

The strike hit hard with both daggers digging deep into Bloodseeker’s chest. The right dagger plunged gravely into the area where the heart would have been located. Dark red blood ejected from the wound as the dagger was twisted and removed. The second dagger plunged into the left area of the chest and surely punctured Bloodseeker’s lungs.

Bloodseeker fell limply to the ground as his opponent stowed his daggers. He heard the approaching horses and looked up to make eye contact with Ischarus. Many of the people who had been gathered around the fight now surged back away from the bloody scene. Bloodseeker’s opponent seemed to control a significant amount of fighting prowess.

The backward surge of the people would guarantee that Bloodseeker’s opponent would have all the time he needed. With a simple motion he knelt beside Bloodseeker and mouthed a few words. The commotion of the people and the distance separating Bloodseeker from Ischarus made the words impossible to hear. In an instant, Bloodseeker and his opponent vanished into thin air. Bloodseeker was surely dead, and there would be no body left to examine.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The foursome sulked over lunch and a few ales. It was clear that Bloodseeker had been waiting to strike against them. It was actually clear to them that Bloodseeker had been specifically waiting for them to come into the Shrouded Tenor so that he could use the place against them in the same manner as they had used the tavern against him.

Ischarus lightly bounced his fist against the top of the table when he was finished with his meal. “I just don’t like being played, that’s all.”

Semeion chuckled at Ischarus’ response. “Even though we clearly played Bloodseeker in the same manner and started it? You know what they say. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.”

Ischarus glared at Semeion. It was quite clear the comment wasn’t welcome at the present time. Rhema saw Ischarus’ foul mood and intervened. “Listen, guys. Either way, arguing amongst ourselves only gives Bloodseeker what he wants. If we let ourselves get bothered by having the tables turned then we are letting him win. It’s as simple as that.”

The two men locked glances as if to signal a truth. Their expressions lacked any sign of an apology, but they did note that Rhema had been heard and understood. Semeion leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply.

Charis nibbled on a callus just to the left of one of her fingernails as she spoke. She wanted to take the opportunity Rhema had given to her and continue to change the angle of the conversation. “You see, the thing that bothers me most of all is that Bloodseeker knew when we would be here. From his perspective, I think it was reasonably predictable that we would return some day. But Bloodseeker was ready for us today at this time. So either he was watching the tavern all day or there is an informant in here.”

Rhema nodded and spoke quickly so as to keep the men from talking until they had more of a chance to cool their tempers and their tongues. “Yeah. I think that it is pretty reasonable to think that there is an informant within the tavern. After all, that’s precisely what we were hoping for when we came in here the first time. Someone took our original message back to Bloodseeker and informed him of our message. “

Charis continued to speak with a smirk towards Rhema. “Good point. It’d be reasonable to think that if there was an informant here on the day we came that Bloodseeker would have the informant in here again waiting for us.”

Semeion spoke before Rhema could take the reigns once more. He had noted the exchange of expressions between Charis and Rhema earlier and their ploy made him smile. “Yeah, but there wasn’t much time from when we entered the tavern to when we saw Bloodseeker outside. I don’t know if that was enough time to summon Bloodseeker unless he was really close at hand.”

Charis turned to Semeion and looked innocently upon her husband. “Or, perhaps Bloodseeker knows magic like you do? If Bloodseeker can master the magic of teleportation, then I am pretty sure that Bloodseeer could master the magic of scrying and magical messaging.”

Ischarus nodded in partial agreement. “Yeah, I suppose that is certainly possible. But if Bloodseeker was powerful enough to master the magic of teleportation, why would he risk retreating through the woods the other day? No offense, Semeion, but most mages are reasonably frail. Their mental tasks prevent them from developing too physically. If he could master teleportation and scrying magic, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all to show up at the villa and find us waiting for him.”

Rhema nodded in complete agreement with her husband. “That is definitely true. If Bloodseeker was a true master of magic, then he sure played the other day poorly, at least tactically speaking.”

Semeion picked up the conversation next. He smiled as he realized that since he had last spoken the conversation had worked its way counterclockwise around the table. He would continue the trend. “Yeah, I doubt Bloodseeker knows great magic. It doesn’t fit the experience we’ve had so far. However, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Bloodseeker knew a bit of magic. Our experiences have always included something strange.”

Semeion’s mind began to turn under this new realization. The party sat silent for a few moments before Charis spoke. “Well, we’re done with our meal. What’s say we go get our horses and head out? If Bloodseeker has a spy in here, we best not say too much too loudly.”

They exchanged a few more words and left the tavern. Rhema paid the bill and exchanged a few pleasantries with Wolf. She indicated that his food was good and to help make up for their earlier trouble they would return and bring business to his door. The party headed to their horses and began to ride them through Fingerdale.

Before they could reach the city gates, the party came upon a small gathering of people. There were harried voices calling out through the crowd. The random exclamations informed the party that the city guard had already been summoned, there was some kind of physical exchange occurring further down the alley, and a few people were placing bets as to the outcome.

Ischarus spun his horse to face the alley and stood in his saddle. “Move, people! We can help and separate them!”

Rhema rolled her eyes. She spoke softly to herself. “By the gods, here we go again.” She shouted a little louder to Ischarus, who was preparing to wade through the crowd atop Elistra. “Don’t you dare draw a weapon, Ischarus! I’ll not have you held and questioned by the city guard again!”

Ischarus smiled at Rhema’s words. Sometimes doing the right thing meant putting himself in jeopardy. He looked down and noted that the crowds began to slowly part in front of him. It would be a slow passage, and he certainly couldn’t use the strength of his horse to push people aside. That would inevitably cause more trouble than he would desire.

Ischarus also noted the sounds of the rest of the horses falling into line behind Elistra. Charis brought Abijou first and was followed by Semeion atop Thana and Rhema atop Shauvry. If they were going to get into trouble with the guard today, it would be a group effort this time. Ischarus smiled cynically as he slowly urged Elistra through the crowd.

When they had pushed the horses through the crowd and drew close enough to the confrontation they stared with wide eyes upon recognizing one of the combatants. They were too far away to hear exactly what was being said between the pair of fighting men, but it was clear that one of the men was Bloodseeker. Ischarus fought the urge to surge through the crowd upon recognizing Bloodseeker. His eyes narrowed in focus upon the combat as he continued to slowly wade through the people.

The pair of men fought with swords. Bloodseeker fought with a short sword in one hand and left his second hand free for balance. His opponent slashed at him with a pair of daggers. They exchanged blows several times, each fighter parrying the blow of the other.

Bloodseeker finally slashed out and struck a clean blow across his opponent’s right thigh. It looked to be a strike of great opportunity at first. However, Bloodseeker’s opponent quickly turned the blunder into a great opportunity. Bloodseeker’s opponent revealed all too quickly that the opening in his defenses had been quite intentional. He had opened himself up to draw Bloodseeker close. Once Bloodseeker landed the anticipated strike, Bloodseeker’s opponent slashed forward with both daggers in a simultaneous strike at Bloodseeker’s chest.

The strike hit hard with both daggers digging deep into Bloodseeker’s chest. The right dagger plunged gravely into the area where the heart would have been located. Dark red blood ejected from the wound as the dagger was twisted and removed. The second dagger plunged into the left area of the chest and surely punctured Bloodseeker’s lungs.

Bloodseeker fell limply to the ground as his opponent stowed his daggers. He heard the approaching horses and looked up to make eye contact with Ischarus. Many of the people who had been gathered around the fight now surged back away from the bloody scene. Bloodseeker’s opponent seemed to control a significant amount of fighting prowess.

The backward surge of the people would guarantee that Bloodseeker’s opponent would have all the time he needed. With a simple motion he knelt beside Bloodseeker and mouthed a few words. The commotion of the people and the distance separating Bloodseeker from Ischarus made the words impossible to hear. In an instant, Bloodseeker and his opponent vanished into thin air. Bloodseeker was surely dead, and there would be no body left to examine.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Four: DECEPTION DOUBLED

Two frustrating weeks passed by for the party of adventurers. There was no further word on Bloodseeker in spite of the several attempts made to dig up information. Trips to the Shrouded Tenor turned up no strange occurrences or tales. Nothing was being said about Bloodseeker at all.

There was little else being said about the mage who managed to kill Bloodseeker and then teleport him away. The city guard was unable to find any credible witnesses to give an accounting as to what had started the fight. Those witnesses who were close enough to see the fight in detail said that one minute the alley was quiet and the next minute the alley erupted in violence. There was no apparent rhyme or reason as to the attack.

In sum, the party had a great deal of frustration to pour into the repairs toward the villa. The villa’s repair and the replanting of the fields benefited greatly from the frustrated energy of the party. By the time the Drakontai servants made the trip from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley in Barghost back to the villa in Fingerdale, much of the fields had been replanted. With greater manpower, the remaining portion of the villa was able to be stripped away. The foundations were easily excavated and re-laid. Soon the ground floor took shape from the collected field stone.

On the fifteenth day from when the party experienced the death of Bloodseeker, the residents of the villa sat in a quiet circle around a small bonfire. The fire had served as a cooking fire several hours past, but now the main purpose of the fire was simply to take the chill off of the nighttime air. The sun had been down for several hours and many of the servants had begun to doze in the cool evening. They were all tired from a hard day of caring for the fields in the morning followed by moving vast quantities of timber in the afternoon. Tomorrow there were plans to plane the wood into planks suitable for constructing the ceiling of the first floor.

In the shadows along the edge of the wood, the figure of a woman stepped out from the trees and silently picked her way towards the bonfire. She smiled as she focused on the gathering. They wouldn’t be expecting her, and that would make her approach even easier. Her hands slipped down to check the status of the sword she carried upon her hip. The blade was securely fastened into its scabbard. Her hands then checked to make sure the daggers sheathed under each armpit were secured in their sheaths as well.

She had come armed to the teeth, although she knew that if she played her cards right she shouldn’t even need to draw a blade. Her task would be best accomplished without the use of a blade. Even still, the presence of the blades gave her a decent back-up plan in addition to potentially helping to secure a route for retreat.

She slowly crept closer to the bonfire. The woman watched the fading flames dance and knew that the dancing of the shadows could be a blessing or a curse. So long as the flames stayed low, their flickering would be minimized and the likelihood of the light around the fire remaining constant was great. If the flames were to rise they would be more likely to catch the wind and dance about. If the flames danced, she would have more difficulty discerning the presence of the shadows.

Fortunately, none of the residents of the villa felt energetic enough to add wood to the waning fire. Darkness crept closer to the gathering with each passing minute. After approaching slowly for nearly a half an hour, the woman was within feet of grabbing Rhema from behind. She brushed back a simple strand of red hair and smiled before speaking. “You all let anyone creep out of the woods at your back?”

In a flash, Ischarus had a small piece of lumber in his hand and positioned himself between Rhema and the voice. Charis joined his side. She was fortunate to have been carrying her pick. The pick had been used earlier with the wood and stone, so it remained by her side.

Rhema jumped up and turned around with a start, but not before Ischarus and Charis were able to move. Her eyes searched into the darkness. In spite of her search, the shadows cast by Ischarus and Charis made it impossible to see the red haired woman.

The intruder spoke again, “Do you always greet guests with weapons? I could have continued to creep closer to you all if I was intent upon injuring you.”

Ischarus lowered his guard slightly, although he did not relinquish his grip upon the wood. “I don’t think that it is particularly odd to see how we could feel the need to defend ourselves. After all, you certainly came this far without desiring to be detected.”

The woman laughed. “And here I thought you all liked to play games. Perhaps I was wrong in my earlier assessment.”

The rest of the residents of the villa wisely moved to the far side of the fire. Most of them were only marginally trained in the ways of combat. It would be better for them if they stayed out of the potential zone of danger and left the fighting to Ischarus and Charis.

Semeion had worked himself around the fire and to a position beside Rhema. “Perhaps if you would step out of the shadows we could feel more comfortable in letting our defenses down?”

The woman complied. She stepped several paces to Ischarus’ right before approaching the fire and stepping into the light. She wanted to avoid Ischarus’ immediate threat range as much as possible. Even though it was an unwieldy piece of wood, in his hands it could be a dangerous weapon. “Very well. I’ll step into the light.”

As the woman stepped close enough to the fire to reveal the contours of her face, all but Rhema had difficulty distinguishing the identity of the woman. However, Rhema immediately recognized her. “The woman from the Shrouded Tenor? What are you doing here?”

The woman smiled politely and extended her hands away from her sides with her palms up. Her hands were empty. “I was touched by your predicament. You’re seeking Bloodseeker, who apparently is now dead. From what my sources can tell me about you all, you are seeking Bloodseeker to find out who was behind the destruction that I now see for myself. Am I right so far?”

Rhema nodded. “Sure. But that fails to explain why you are here. It does explain that you know a fair amount about us, though. So tell us. Why are you here under the cover of darkness?”

The woman smiled. “I serve a mage. When I heard that you were seeking the Ephistaemi I took your plight to him. I thought that perhaps he could help.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Four: DECEPTION DOUBLED

Two frustrating weeks passed by for the party of adventurers. There was no further word on Bloodseeker in spite of the several attempts made to dig up information. Trips to the Shrouded Tenor turned up no strange occurrences or tales. Nothing was being said about Bloodseeker at all.

There was little else being said about the mage who managed to kill Bloodseeker and then teleport him away. The city guard was unable to find any credible witnesses to give an accounting as to what had started the fight. Those witnesses who were close enough to see the fight in detail said that one minute the alley was quiet and the next minute the alley erupted in violence. There was no apparent rhyme or reason as to the attack.

In sum, the party had a great deal of frustration to pour into the repairs toward the villa. The villa’s repair and the replanting of the fields benefited greatly from the frustrated energy of the party. By the time the Drakontai servants made the trip from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley in Barghost back to the villa in Fingerdale, much of the fields had been replanted. With greater manpower, the remaining portion of the villa was able to be stripped away. The foundations were easily excavated and re-laid. Soon the ground floor took shape from the collected field stone.

On the fifteenth day from when the party experienced the death of Bloodseeker, the residents of the villa sat in a quiet circle around a small bonfire. The fire had served as a cooking fire several hours past, but now the main purpose of the fire was simply to take the chill off of the nighttime air. The sun had been down for several hours and many of the servants had begun to doze in the cool evening. They were all tired from a hard day of caring for the fields in the morning followed by moving vast quantities of timber in the afternoon. Tomorrow there were plans to plane the wood into planks suitable for constructing the ceiling of the first floor.

In the shadows along the edge of the wood, the figure of a woman stepped out from the trees and silently picked her way towards the bonfire. She smiled as she focused on the gathering. They wouldn’t be expecting her, and that would make her approach even easier. Her hands slipped down to check the status of the sword she carried upon her hip. The blade was securely fastened into its scabbard. Her hands then checked to make sure the daggers sheathed under each armpit were secured in their sheaths as well.

She had come armed to the teeth, although she knew that if she played her cards right she shouldn’t even need to draw a blade. Her task would be best accomplished without the use of a blade. Even still, the presence of the blades gave her a decent back-up plan in addition to potentially helping to secure a route for retreat.

She slowly crept closer to the bonfire. The woman watched the fading flames dance and knew that the dancing of the shadows could be a blessing or a curse. So long as the flames stayed low, their flickering would be minimized and the likelihood of the light around the fire remaining constant was great. If the flames were to rise they would be more likely to catch the wind and dance about. If the flames danced, she would have more difficulty discerning the presence of the shadows.

Fortunately, none of the residents of the villa felt energetic enough to add wood to the waning fire. Darkness crept closer to the gathering with each passing minute. After approaching slowly for nearly a half an hour, the woman was within feet of grabbing Rhema from behind. She brushed back a simple strand of red hair and smiled before speaking. “You all let anyone creep out of the woods at your back?”

In a flash, Ischarus had a small piece of lumber in his hand and positioned himself between Rhema and the voice. Charis joined his side. She was fortunate to have been carrying her pick. The pick had been used earlier with the wood and stone, so it remained by her side.

Rhema jumped up and turned around with a start, but not before Ischarus and Charis were able to move. Her eyes searched into the darkness. In spite of her search, the shadows cast by Ischarus and Charis made it impossible to see the red haired woman.

The intruder spoke again, “Do you always greet guests with weapons? I could have continued to creep closer to you all if I was intent upon injuring you.”

Ischarus lowered his guard slightly, although he did not relinquish his grip upon the wood. “I don’t think that it is particularly odd to see how we could feel the need to defend ourselves. After all, you certainly came this far without desiring to be detected.”

The woman laughed. “And here I thought you all liked to play games. Perhaps I was wrong in my earlier assessment.”

The rest of the residents of the villa wisely moved to the far side of the fire. Most of them were only marginally trained in the ways of combat. It would be better for them if they stayed out of the potential zone of danger and left the fighting to Ischarus and Charis.

Semeion had worked himself around the fire and to a position beside Rhema. “Perhaps if you would step out of the shadows we could feel more comfortable in letting our defenses down?”

The woman complied. She stepped several paces to Ischarus’ right before approaching the fire and stepping into the light. She wanted to avoid Ischarus’ immediate threat range as much as possible. Even though it was an unwieldy piece of wood, in his hands it could be a dangerous weapon. “Very well. I’ll step into the light.”

As the woman stepped close enough to the fire to reveal the contours of her face, all but Rhema had difficulty distinguishing the identity of the woman. However, Rhema immediately recognized her. “The woman from the Shrouded Tenor? What are you doing here?”

The woman smiled politely and extended her hands away from her sides with her palms up. Her hands were empty. “I was touched by your predicament. You’re seeking Bloodseeker, who apparently is now dead. From what my sources can tell me about you all, you are seeking Bloodseeker to find out who was behind the destruction that I now see for myself. Am I right so far?”

Rhema nodded. “Sure. But that fails to explain why you are here. It does explain that you know a fair amount about us, though. So tell us. Why are you here under the cover of darkness?”

The woman smiled. “I serve a mage. When I heard that you were seeking the Ephistaemi I took your plight to him. I thought that perhaps he could help.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Semeion instantly felt a surge of doubt flow through his body. “A mage, you say?” His eyes narrowed and a scowl appeared over his face. “Interestingly enough, a mage may well have been involved in making our job even more difficult.”

Charis smiled at her husband’s immediate conclusion. “Not that there aren’t more than one mage in the world, of course. For that matter, there’s more than one mage in Fingerdale. You’ll have to excuse my husband. He himself has a bit of magical prowess himself.”

The woman smiled and interrupted Charis’ speech. “Well, I have learned from my master that there are few people in this world who are more critical of mages than other mages themselves. Even those who detest magic are not as critical of those with the ability to cast spells as are mages when regarding another’s power.”

Ischarus smiled, knowing his own magical abilities remained largely hidden. Yet he knew full well that the woman spoke the truth. He had once been quite skeptical of magic. In spite of his innate skepticism, being around Semeion and Rhema had taught him that his own distrust could not match the distrust of people who knew first hand what the power of magic could do. Since his own powers had begun to slowly develop he found a new distrust for the magic of other people that was much more focused than the general distrust he had known before. It was almost as if receiving a taste of the unusual power immediate taught the possessor just how easy the power could corrupt.

Rhema returned the conversation back to its original intent. “Regardless of the distrust of magic, you say that your master can help us? Bloodseeker is dead. Unless your master can speak to the dead, how can your master help us?”

The woman nodded knowingly. “I suspected that you would have your fair share of doubts and questions. It would only be expected, after all! This was one question that I am prepared for. My master believes that your thoughts are too limited. The scope of your understanding is rather narrow. You sought out Bloodseeker because you caught Darkbringer and Darkbringer led you in that direction. That conclusion was certainly natural. Yet when you met up with the difficulty of losing Bloodseeker your thoughts did not expand as they should have.”

Semeion continued to glare at the woman. “Your master shows all the arrogance of a great wizard. If he knows our thoughts and knows the situation so well, why has he done nothing to help us? If he is following our cause so closely without doing anything to help, that is even more proof to doubt your words and intent.”

The woman allowed Semeion’s directed insults to pass through her completely. The smile remained on her face and she turned slightly to look at Semeion. “I can understand how your frustration would lead you to that conclusion. However, the conclusion is wrong. You see, my master has only been aware of your dilemma for a few days. My master only knows of your dilemma from what I told him. Personally, I only knew enough to research your cause once I discovered the hoax regarding Darkbringer upon your second return to the Shrouded Tenor. I had to do my own investigation before realizing that my master might be able to help. Surely you can understand that a mage as powerful as my master cannot be troubled with the trivial. I only informed my master a few days ago once I had done enough research to know that it was worth his time.”

Semeion offered a brief rebuttal. “And all of your research you did without involving us? Don’t you think that your research would have been a bit more productive had you come to us in the first place?

The woman nodded, acknowledging the comment’s validity. “Indeed. If I had known then what I have come to know now, I would have started with you all. However, your own deception taught me that you might have ulterior motivations. Had you all been more forthcoming and less deceptive yourselves, I would have also been more trusting. In spite of this, I can understand why it is that you were deceptive as well. Dealing with the organization that you look for is not easy and not straightforward. Deception is often necessary.”

Rhema spoke next, reassuring the woman. “I don’t know about the others, but I can accept that explanation. Of course, that is especially true if your master can help us in our quest to avenge what has happened here. There can be little doubt that you see for yourself the destruction here and the effort necessary to overcome it. But what do you mean by calling our efforts limited in scope? In what way were we narrow?”

The woman replied with a flat tone. “You caught Darkbringer and sought out Bloodseeker. But when you lost the trail of Bloodseeker – largely in part to what I have come to understand to be Bloodseeker’s death in an alley in Fingerdale – you efforts died with it. There is no doubt that there are more members of the Ephistaemi who know the reasons that this villa was destroyed. You scope should have widened to catch any member of the Ephistaemi, not just Bloodseeker.”

Ischarus spoke for the first time. “We understand that. But have you ever tried to infiltrate an organization that officially doesn’t exist anywhere? What is it that you think your master can do for us?”

The woman turned back to Ischarus. “It is not what I think the master can do for you. It is more what my master knows that he can do for you. We know enough to realize now that you seek the Ephistaemi. And as you have already asserted, securing an audience within the Ephistaemi is quite difficult. However, it is not impossible, especially for someone as talented, connected, and powerful as my master. What my master is offering is to put you in contact with the Ephistaemi so that you may receive your answers.”

Ischarus now frowned and spoke skeptically. “Your master can put us in touch with the Ephistaemi? I don’t know that I want to know how much that will cost us!”

Rhema concurred with her husband’s conclusion. “Not only that, but I doubt that the Ephistaemi will readily reveal their sources. From what our sources have told us, the Ephistaemi pride themselves on subversively accomplishing difficult tasks. If it gets out that the Ephistaemi disclose who is providing funding for the work that is being done, they’ll stop having clients. You can’t honestly believe that the Ephistaemi will share their secrets even if we could contact them!”

The woman smiled quite deviously and her eyes seemed to twinkle in enjoyment of a thought that passed through her mind. “Then I suppose that is where trust comes in. Right now you have nothing but the knowledge that the Ephistaemi have the answers that you seek. If you cannot find the Ephistaemi, you have nothing. My master can at least put you in touch with the Ephistaemi. That is more than you have now.”

Ischarus watched the woman intently as she spoke. It was obvious that she was hiding something. She wasn’t even trying to veil the fact that there was more at work in this situation than what was being disclosed. However, he also knew that he had no useful leverage to use in an attempt to discover what the woman’s hidden agenda might contain. “Very well. What you say is true. We currently have nothing and are no doubt at the end of our leads. The Ephistaemi agents in the area have no doubt already been notified of our presence and likely will avoid us at most costs. So what you offer is more than we could hope to gain on our own. Tell us your master’s terms. And while you’re at it, I don’t believe we know your name.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion instantly felt a surge of doubt flow through his body. “A mage, you say?” His eyes narrowed and a scowl appeared over his face. “Interestingly enough, a mage may well have been involved in making our job even more difficult.”

Charis smiled at her husband’s immediate conclusion. “Not that there aren’t more than one mage in the world, of course. For that matter, there’s more than one mage in Fingerdale. You’ll have to excuse my husband. He himself has a bit of magical prowess himself.”

The woman smiled and interrupted Charis’ speech. “Well, I have learned from my master that there are few people in this world who are more critical of mages than other mages themselves. Even those who detest magic are not as critical of those with the ability to cast spells as are mages when regarding another’s power.”

Ischarus smiled, knowing his own magical abilities remained largely hidden. Yet he knew full well that the woman spoke the truth. He had once been quite skeptical of magic. In spite of his innate skepticism, being around Semeion and Rhema had taught him that his own distrust could not match the distrust of people who knew first hand what the power of magic could do. Since his own powers had begun to slowly develop he found a new distrust for the magic of other people that was much more focused than the general distrust he had known before. It was almost as if receiving a taste of the unusual power immediate taught the possessor just how easy the power could corrupt.

Rhema returned the conversation back to its original intent. “Regardless of the distrust of magic, you say that your master can help us? Bloodseeker is dead. Unless your master can speak to the dead, how can your master help us?”

The woman nodded knowingly. “I suspected that you would have your fair share of doubts and questions. It would only be expected, after all! This was one question that I am prepared for. My master believes that your thoughts are too limited. The scope of your understanding is rather narrow. You sought out Bloodseeker because you caught Darkbringer and Darkbringer led you in that direction. That conclusion was certainly natural. Yet when you met up with the difficulty of losing Bloodseeker your thoughts did not expand as they should have.”

Semeion continued to glare at the woman. “Your master shows all the arrogance of a great wizard. If he knows our thoughts and knows the situation so well, why has he done nothing to help us? If he is following our cause so closely without doing anything to help, that is even more proof to doubt your words and intent.”

The woman allowed Semeion’s directed insults to pass through her completely. The smile remained on her face and she turned slightly to look at Semeion. “I can understand how your frustration would lead you to that conclusion. However, the conclusion is wrong. You see, my master has only been aware of your dilemma for a few days. My master only knows of your dilemma from what I told him. Personally, I only knew enough to research your cause once I discovered the hoax regarding Darkbringer upon your second return to the Shrouded Tenor. I had to do my own investigation before realizing that my master might be able to help. Surely you can understand that a mage as powerful as my master cannot be troubled with the trivial. I only informed my master a few days ago once I had done enough research to know that it was worth his time.”

Semeion offered a brief rebuttal. “And all of your research you did without involving us? Don’t you think that your research would have been a bit more productive had you come to us in the first place?

The woman nodded, acknowledging the comment’s validity. “Indeed. If I had known then what I have come to know now, I would have started with you all. However, your own deception taught me that you might have ulterior motivations. Had you all been more forthcoming and less deceptive yourselves, I would have also been more trusting. In spite of this, I can understand why it is that you were deceptive as well. Dealing with the organization that you look for is not easy and not straightforward. Deception is often necessary.”

Rhema spoke next, reassuring the woman. “I don’t know about the others, but I can accept that explanation. Of course, that is especially true if your master can help us in our quest to avenge what has happened here. There can be little doubt that you see for yourself the destruction here and the effort necessary to overcome it. But what do you mean by calling our efforts limited in scope? In what way were we narrow?”

The woman replied with a flat tone. “You caught Darkbringer and sought out Bloodseeker. But when you lost the trail of Bloodseeker – largely in part to what I have come to understand to be Bloodseeker’s death in an alley in Fingerdale – you efforts died with it. There is no doubt that there are more members of the Ephistaemi who know the reasons that this villa was destroyed. You scope should have widened to catch any member of the Ephistaemi, not just Bloodseeker.”

Ischarus spoke for the first time. “We understand that. But have you ever tried to infiltrate an organization that officially doesn’t exist anywhere? What is it that you think your master can do for us?”

The woman turned back to Ischarus. “It is not what I think the master can do for you. It is more what my master knows that he can do for you. We know enough to realize now that you seek the Ephistaemi. And as you have already asserted, securing an audience within the Ephistaemi is quite difficult. However, it is not impossible, especially for someone as talented, connected, and powerful as my master. What my master is offering is to put you in contact with the Ephistaemi so that you may receive your answers.”

Ischarus now frowned and spoke skeptically. “Your master can put us in touch with the Ephistaemi? I don’t know that I want to know how much that will cost us!”

Rhema concurred with her husband’s conclusion. “Not only that, but I doubt that the Ephistaemi will readily reveal their sources. From what our sources have told us, the Ephistaemi pride themselves on subversively accomplishing difficult tasks. If it gets out that the Ephistaemi disclose who is providing funding for the work that is being done, they’ll stop having clients. You can’t honestly believe that the Ephistaemi will share their secrets even if we could contact them!”

The woman smiled quite deviously and her eyes seemed to twinkle in enjoyment of a thought that passed through her mind. “Then I suppose that is where trust comes in. Right now you have nothing but the knowledge that the Ephistaemi have the answers that you seek. If you cannot find the Ephistaemi, you have nothing. My master can at least put you in touch with the Ephistaemi. That is more than you have now.”

Ischarus watched the woman intently as she spoke. It was obvious that she was hiding something. She wasn’t even trying to veil the fact that there was more at work in this situation than what was being disclosed. However, he also knew that he had no useful leverage to use in an attempt to discover what the woman’s hidden agenda might contain. “Very well. What you say is true. We currently have nothing and are no doubt at the end of our leads. The Ephistaemi agents in the area have no doubt already been notified of our presence and likely will avoid us at most costs. So what you offer is more than we could hope to gain on our own. Tell us your master’s terms. And while you’re at it, I don’t believe we know your name.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The woman paused for a moment. Her eyes and her lips twitched as though she were deep in thought. “Opheiluka del Zhatul.” She paused for a moment before explaining the response. “I figured that I would answer the easy one first. Most people just call me Ophee for short, though.”

Charis smiled at Ophee and replied, “Well, Ophee, now that we know your name, can you tell us what we would need to accomplish for your master in order for him to arrange for us to meet with a knowledgeable representative of the Ephistaemi?”

Ophee returned Charis’ smile. She was well aware that Charis had been the most agreeable of the four up to this point. Charis didn’t seem to care to hold on to the inherent skepticism that burdened the other three. “Unfortuantely, I do not know his exact terms. Knowing my master, however, it’ll likely involve some sort of quest.”

Ischarus allowed a soft snort to pass through his nose in response to the woman’s explanation. “A quest? Is that all the more original your master can be? What great artifact does your master desire?”

Semeion smiled at Ischarus’ cynicism. “And how many idiots has he sent after it already who have never returned?”

The cynical comments allowed Ophee to laugh in an attempt to break the tension. She knew that she would need to earn the trust of the other three. “No, my master does not work in terms of artifacts and power. My master deals in herbs and potions. The mage that I serve is primarily interested in sending out teams to retrieve plant and animal specimens. I assure you, most of the tasks are really quite mundane.”

Rhema wrinkled her eyebrows as the thought of picking leaves and flowers passed through her mind. “An herbalist? You serve an herbalist?”

Semeion spoke harshly in response. “Careful, Rhema. My own master dabbled in herbs and potions and there was much more to his magic than love potions. Master Sathwright’s magic was quite potent, but most people knew him only as a simpleton brewer.”

Ophee nodded in response. “Of course. Wizards who can only make potions and pick leaves can’t even begin to make a living for themselves. They have to have multiple experiences and multiple trades as an outlet for their magical powers. I wouldn’t have you believe that the mage I serve is some simpleton potion maker. But I would have you believe that the quests he uses for bartering are usually quite simple quests for the retrieval of plants and animal specimens. His magic is potent, but nothing you should fear.”

Ischarus’ face exposed that he was still not convinced. “If your master’s magic is so potent, why on earth does he need to send away recovery teams like us? Why can’t he simply retrieve what he wants on his own?”

Semeion smiled in response to Ischarus’ question, but Ophee beat him to the explanation. “My master’s time is very precious. A great deal of the magical study that he is performing cannot simply be interrupted every time he finds a need or part of his supply runs low. To venture out on a quest every time he needs something would make it impossible to maintain the level of concentration that he needs for his work and his research into the arcane arts. He is better off sending collection teams into the world and paying them directly or bartering for services as he is offering with you all. It is likely that you all can afford the time for a quest much more than he can.”

Semeion added more to Ophee’s response than what she probably cared to admit about her master. “Not only that, Ischarus, but if Opheiluka’s master is a true mage, he has likely had to ignore a good bit of his physical body in exchange for his magical arts. You see how frail I can be at times. If the wizard in question is much more advanced than I am, his body may be even more susceptible to problems in the world. The more he neglects the path of adventure, the more he will lose touch with how weak he has become in relation to everyone else.”

Ischarus and Ophee both nodded in agreement with Semeion. Ophee nodded in admission to the truth. Ischarus nodded out of his desire to trust Semeion’s explanation more than Ophee’s explanation. Ischarus summarized just to make sure that he understood. “So, what you are telling me is that Ophee’s master may have devoted himself to his research so intently that adventuring is not really feasible anymore?”

Ophee replied to Ischarus in a serious tone. “Yes, that is exactly what your own mage is telling you. And while you certainly didn’t hear it from me, I can confirm the truth in your mage’s comments and concerns. My master is no longer interested in adventure. He is interested in the adventures of other people and how they can enhance his magic.”

Charis was tired of being out of the conversation, so she decided to take the conversation back to its original intent. “So, what kind of quest is normal? Picking clover out of a field?” Her tone was hopeful, although there was a hint in her voice that she knew the truth was not so simple.

Ophee laughed again. “Well, sometimes those kinds of quests fall upon myself and the rest of the staff under his employ. However, the majority of the quests that he barters out to a group such as yourselves are a bit more involved. Of course, you must understand that ultimately my master is most concerned with the return of the specimen that he desires. He has become quite adept at ascertaining the skill level of the questing party and matching them up with an appropriate task. After all, if he sends a party onto a quest that they are not skilled enough to accomplish, then all is lost and his purpose is not furthered.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. She was beginning to soften and become swayed by Ophee’s logic. “That makes sense. Of course, that assumes that we can trust your master’s motivations and the fact that the need is true. If we can be guaranteed that the need for the quest is legitimate, it follows that your master would not desire to see us perish.”

Charis added her own opinion in support of Rhema’s conclusion. “Of course! And what reason would this mage want to see us perish? If this wizard is truly strong in his magic, I doubt that any of us could have stood against a direct attack. If the wizard wanted us dead, there are more direct methods than sending us on some impossible quest.”

Ischarus frowned again. “True, but those methods would be more traceable. If we die on a quest, it is simply an accident. If he uses magic to do away with us, it is murder.”

Semeion chuckled. “Well, we have an interesting conundrum, then. Do we trust a mage who sends in his servant at our time of greatest need with the biggest cliché in the book? Or do we turn down the offer and realize that we may never find out the answer as to why the villa was destroyed?”

Iasho spoke. He had been quiet and standing in the background for the entire conversation. However, he knew that he had a large stake in the matter. “If you quest for another, it is unlikely that you can also quest for the villa. You might lose a season chasing after an answer that may continue to elude us.” His tone was serious and a quiet fell over the group for several seconds.

Semeion inhaled deeply through his nose after contemplating Iasho’s words for several seconds. “That may be true. And it is certainly wise counsel, Iasho. However, if we do not find the reason for the villa’s destruction we may simply be involving ourselves in the construction of another target. If we do not stop every once and a while and weed out the enemies of the villa, we may continue to lose buildings, people, and resources. How many of these episodes can we endure before the operation of the villa grinds to a halt?”

Ischarus once more nodded in agreement. “He is right, Iasho. Wisdom tells us to distrust the one who comes with the ideal solution to save the day when we are in the bleakest hour. But logic tells us that to blindly continue forward and ignore the Ephistaemi will only invite more trouble. I hate going against wisdom, but for the sake of the lives of the people at the villa I fear we must side with logic.”

Rhema was swayed by Ischarus’ words, although she was already well on her way to accepting Ophee’s proposal anyway. “I agree. The thought of losing a single season is not desirable. The thought of losing this season every year is even less desirable. We should explore this option.”

Charis drove the final nail into the coffin that housed Iasho’s argument. “Besides, is there any danger in simply listening to the mage’s offer? How can we refuse something when we honestly don’t know how difficult the quest may be?”

Iasho pursed his lips and inhaled. “Then it sounds as though you have made your decision. Go with Ophee and seek out this mage. And go with my blessing.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The woman paused for a moment. Her eyes and her lips twitched as though she were deep in thought. “Opheiluka del Zhatul.” She paused for a moment before explaining the response. “I figured that I would answer the easy one first. Most people just call me Ophee for short, though.”

Charis smiled at Ophee and replied, “Well, Ophee, now that we know your name, can you tell us what we would need to accomplish for your master in order for him to arrange for us to meet with a knowledgeable representative of the Ephistaemi?”

Ophee returned Charis’ smile. She was well aware that Charis had been the most agreeable of the four up to this point. Charis didn’t seem to care to hold on to the inherent skepticism that burdened the other three. “Unfortuantely, I do not know his exact terms. Knowing my master, however, it’ll likely involve some sort of quest.”

Ischarus allowed a soft snort to pass through his nose in response to the woman’s explanation. “A quest? Is that all the more original your master can be? What great artifact does your master desire?”

Semeion smiled at Ischarus’ cynicism. “And how many idiots has he sent after it already who have never returned?”

The cynical comments allowed Ophee to laugh in an attempt to break the tension. She knew that she would need to earn the trust of the other three. “No, my master does not work in terms of artifacts and power. My master deals in herbs and potions. The mage that I serve is primarily interested in sending out teams to retrieve plant and animal specimens. I assure you, most of the tasks are really quite mundane.”

Rhema wrinkled her eyebrows as the thought of picking leaves and flowers passed through her mind. “An herbalist? You serve an herbalist?”

Semeion spoke harshly in response. “Careful, Rhema. My own master dabbled in herbs and potions and there was much more to his magic than love potions. Master Sathwright’s magic was quite potent, but most people knew him only as a simpleton brewer.”

Ophee nodded in response. “Of course. Wizards who can only make potions and pick leaves can’t even begin to make a living for themselves. They have to have multiple experiences and multiple trades as an outlet for their magical powers. I wouldn’t have you believe that the mage I serve is some simpleton potion maker. But I would have you believe that the quests he uses for bartering are usually quite simple quests for the retrieval of plants and animal specimens. His magic is potent, but nothing you should fear.”

Ischarus’ face exposed that he was still not convinced. “If your master’s magic is so potent, why on earth does he need to send away recovery teams like us? Why can’t he simply retrieve what he wants on his own?”

Semeion smiled in response to Ischarus’ question, but Ophee beat him to the explanation. “My master’s time is very precious. A great deal of the magical study that he is performing cannot simply be interrupted every time he finds a need or part of his supply runs low. To venture out on a quest every time he needs something would make it impossible to maintain the level of concentration that he needs for his work and his research into the arcane arts. He is better off sending collection teams into the world and paying them directly or bartering for services as he is offering with you all. It is likely that you all can afford the time for a quest much more than he can.”

Semeion added more to Ophee’s response than what she probably cared to admit about her master. “Not only that, Ischarus, but if Opheiluka’s master is a true mage, he has likely had to ignore a good bit of his physical body in exchange for his magical arts. You see how frail I can be at times. If the wizard in question is much more advanced than I am, his body may be even more susceptible to problems in the world. The more he neglects the path of adventure, the more he will lose touch with how weak he has become in relation to everyone else.”

Ischarus and Ophee both nodded in agreement with Semeion. Ophee nodded in admission to the truth. Ischarus nodded out of his desire to trust Semeion’s explanation more than Ophee’s explanation. Ischarus summarized just to make sure that he understood. “So, what you are telling me is that Ophee’s master may have devoted himself to his research so intently that adventuring is not really feasible anymore?”

Ophee replied to Ischarus in a serious tone. “Yes, that is exactly what your own mage is telling you. And while you certainly didn’t hear it from me, I can confirm the truth in your mage’s comments and concerns. My master is no longer interested in adventure. He is interested in the adventures of other people and how they can enhance his magic.”

Charis was tired of being out of the conversation, so she decided to take the conversation back to its original intent. “So, what kind of quest is normal? Picking clover out of a field?” Her tone was hopeful, although there was a hint in her voice that she knew the truth was not so simple.

Ophee laughed again. “Well, sometimes those kinds of quests fall upon myself and the rest of the staff under his employ. However, the majority of the quests that he barters out to a group such as yourselves are a bit more involved. Of course, you must understand that ultimately my master is most concerned with the return of the specimen that he desires. He has become quite adept at ascertaining the skill level of the questing party and matching them up with an appropriate task. After all, if he sends a party onto a quest that they are not skilled enough to accomplish, then all is lost and his purpose is not furthered.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. She was beginning to soften and become swayed by Ophee’s logic. “That makes sense. Of course, that assumes that we can trust your master’s motivations and the fact that the need is true. If we can be guaranteed that the need for the quest is legitimate, it follows that your master would not desire to see us perish.”

Charis added her own opinion in support of Rhema’s conclusion. “Of course! And what reason would this mage want to see us perish? If this wizard is truly strong in his magic, I doubt that any of us could have stood against a direct attack. If the wizard wanted us dead, there are more direct methods than sending us on some impossible quest.”

Ischarus frowned again. “True, but those methods would be more traceable. If we die on a quest, it is simply an accident. If he uses magic to do away with us, it is murder.”

Semeion chuckled. “Well, we have an interesting conundrum, then. Do we trust a mage who sends in his servant at our time of greatest need with the biggest cliché in the book? Or do we turn down the offer and realize that we may never find out the answer as to why the villa was destroyed?”

Iasho spoke. He had been quiet and standing in the background for the entire conversation. However, he knew that he had a large stake in the matter. “If you quest for another, it is unlikely that you can also quest for the villa. You might lose a season chasing after an answer that may continue to elude us.” His tone was serious and a quiet fell over the group for several seconds.

Semeion inhaled deeply through his nose after contemplating Iasho’s words for several seconds. “That may be true. And it is certainly wise counsel, Iasho. However, if we do not find the reason for the villa’s destruction we may simply be involving ourselves in the construction of another target. If we do not stop every once and a while and weed out the enemies of the villa, we may continue to lose buildings, people, and resources. How many of these episodes can we endure before the operation of the villa grinds to a halt?”

Ischarus once more nodded in agreement. “He is right, Iasho. Wisdom tells us to distrust the one who comes with the ideal solution to save the day when we are in the bleakest hour. But logic tells us that to blindly continue forward and ignore the Ephistaemi will only invite more trouble. I hate going against wisdom, but for the sake of the lives of the people at the villa I fear we must side with logic.”

Rhema was swayed by Ischarus’ words, although she was already well on her way to accepting Ophee’s proposal anyway. “I agree. The thought of losing a single season is not desirable. The thought of losing this season every year is even less desirable. We should explore this option.”

Charis drove the final nail into the coffin that housed Iasho’s argument. “Besides, is there any danger in simply listening to the mage’s offer? How can we refuse something when we honestly don’t know how difficult the quest may be?”

Iasho pursed his lips and inhaled. “Then it sounds as though you have made your decision. Go with Ophee and seek out this mage. And go with my blessing.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Ophee nodded. “If you all are interested, then we’ll need to head to Eberdeen. Of course, my master would be happy to pay for lodging and meals along the way. You will be considered my guests while coming to Eberdeen.”

Rhema immediately looked concerned. “Eberdeen? But that’s over a week’s ride on horseback! We can’t very well be gone two weeks from the villa in its current state! I assumed your master lived in Fingerdale where we found you.”

Iasho placed his hand upon his daughter’s shoulders while Ischarus spoke. “We can be gone that long, Rhema. Your father and his servants have things under control here. They’ll be fine, and the construction will continue to progress. We’d be heading off soon anyway, you know.”

Rhema passed a look of pleading disagreement to her husband, but her father’s words counteracted any emotion that her look might have awakened inside Ischarus. “You have already agreed to go, my dear. We will survive here. If you are to find your answers, you must begin while the information can be found. If you wait until the villa is built and safe, your answers may well have vanished and you will have also lost the season to journey.”

The party was keenly aware that there was no mention of Quehalost, although the topic was being discussed throughout the entire conversation. It was a longstanding rule that the name of Quehalost would not be discussed when there were people present who were not intimately involved with the work of the villa. Given what had already taken place with regard to the destruction of the villa, it was even more important that secrets were protected to minimize the possibilities of those who could have known about the work of the villa.

Rhema sighed as her father spoke. “But you’ll be here alone.”

Iasho grinned broadly in response. “And defenseless?”

Ischarus and Semeion both smirked at Iasho’s implications. Rhema lowered her eyes from her father’s face to the ground as she spoke. “Well, yeah. We won’t be here to protect you.”

Iasho couldn’t help but laugh in the manner of a parent who was amused by the unnecessary maturity of their child. “You need not be my protector, Rhema. Perhaps you forget who taught you the family trade? Perhaps you forget whose friend it was that began your own instruction in the arts of the mind? I am no decrepit old man, at least not yet.”

Rhema brought her face up to look upon her father’s face once more, but he lifted up a finger to keep her quiet. “I know you love me and want me to live long enough to be an old man who sits on his porch telling tales of the adventures of his youth to his grandchildren. I desire that as well. But the time for that is not yet here. It will come one day. Go and do the task ahead of you.”

That was really all that needed to be said. In spite of Iasho’s earlier warning that to go with Opheiluka would mean potentially staying out of Quehalost for the season, he ultimately was in support of whatever the party had decided. Rhema’s love had been noted, but it could not be allowed to prevent their journey. A few supplies were quickly gathered and the horses were prepared. Within an hour the party found themselves saying their goodbyes and heading down the road in the direction of Fingerdale.

Their journey would lead them past Fingerdale and west. They would head to Partuss and continue even further west. Halfway between Partuss and Bacrothen a branch of the road would turn south and head towards Eberdeen. Rhema had been right that the journey would take over a week.

They were familiar enough with the road, however. In order to get from Fingerdale to Reignsburg and south into Quehalost the party had to choose either this path or another. The roads leading into Eberdeen were the most secure and the party usually journeyed along these roads when they were headed into Quehalost to ensure that their journey would not be delayed. On the return trips, the party often traveled east through Juniper before turning north toward Fingerdale. In either case, the roads that Ophee had hinted at traveling were well known and would not be difficult to travel.

The trip from Huetown to Fingerdale passed by easily. Over the course of the travel Ophee explained that although her master lived in Eberdeen, she was placed in charge of gathering information in Fingerdale and the surrounding areas. Her master had scouts in all of the major cities of Tongra in addition to the capitols of Barghost and Fenneress. Although he was successful in the herbalist business, he was also what Ophee called an information broker. Her master thrived on discovering methods for finding out useful information. Often this talent was what made him his most significant sums of money. Ophee explained that it was also this talent that gave him the confidence that he could find someone who could tell the party why the villa had been destroyed.

The party stayed for a night in Fingerdale before restocking their traveling supplies. The next several days of traveling passed by uneventfully as they journeyed from Fingerdale through Partuss. They were fortunate to be a party of significant size in addition to being well armed. Most highwaymen would have good cause to let the party travel through the areas of their influence without harassment. The merchant caravans also traveling along the road would provide easier and more lucrative targets as far as income would be concerned.

Once the party passed through Partuss they found the road that turned away from Bacrothen and turned towards Eberdeen. Ophee explained that the woods north of Bacrothen were plagued by odd types of denizens, but she also knew that their size and force would keep them at bay. Each night they were careful to post two watches as sentries, although this meant that each member of the party received about two hours of sleep less than ideal. Given that the alternative to the reduced sleep might be waking up to the dangerous side of an axe blade, the extra duty for watch was readily accepted.

Nine days in total passed by as the party made good progress from Fingerdale to Eberdeen. Around noon on the ninth day the party crested a hill and saw the welcome spires of the capitol’s wizardry college. After another half an hour of traveling the thick walls of the protective keeps and various guard posts could be seen as well.

Unlike Fingerdale, Eberdeen was not contained by a protective wall. Since Eberdeen was centrally located within Tongra, there was little that could reach Eberdeen without advance notification. Eberdeen had once had a wall, but the city had grown tremendously under the leadership of King Rupert’s lineage. The kings who had come before the current Rupert king had emphasized trade with Barghost and Fenneress instead of military dominance. The land still maintained an army, by it was largely a defensive construction rather than an offensive army geared for occupation. The smaller army implied that more resources could be applied to business, economics, and trade with their neighbors.

The effect of the leadership from the Rupert family line was to make Tongra much more political, diplomatic, and economically concerned. Cities and towns prospered under their rule and Eberdeen was no exception. The capitol quickly outgrew its walls and the city advisors knew that there was no sense building new walls until the city had reached its maximum capacity.

By the time the land stabilized, the city of Eberdeen was simply too large to quarter off behind walls. Instead, guard posts were established in areas that would grant them the greatest visibility. Four keeps were built to house the city guards and what remained of the king’s standing army. As the party approached from the north, they could easily make out the thick protective walls of the north and east keeps. They were massive structures; and they had been designed to be able to section off the entire population and house them safely in the individual keeps in time of immediate danger.

Between the party and each of the keeps were several guard posts and checkpoints. It was from the northernmost of these checkpoints that the party realized that they would be officially welcomed into Eberdeen. A section of the cavalry rode out from the nearest checkpoint and looked as though they were quite intent on intercepting and interrogating the party.

Ophee smiled and turned in her saddle so that she could look each of the party members in the eye and relax them. “The guards must be set to active searching today. They perform passive observation most days, but a few random days each month they are set to perform searches of anyone trying to enter Eberdeen. It helps to control smuggling and other various criminal actions. But don’t worry. Let me talk to the guards. The business of my master is well known to the guards. They will allow us passage without much trouble.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ophee nodded. “If you all are interested, then we’ll need to head to Eberdeen. Of course, my master would be happy to pay for lodging and meals along the way. You will be considered my guests while coming to Eberdeen.”

Rhema immediately looked concerned. “Eberdeen? But that’s over a week’s ride on horseback! We can’t very well be gone two weeks from the villa in its current state! I assumed your master lived in Fingerdale where we found you.”

Iasho placed his hand upon his daughter’s shoulders while Ischarus spoke. “We can be gone that long, Rhema. Your father and his servants have things under control here. They’ll be fine, and the construction will continue to progress. We’d be heading off soon anyway, you know.”

Rhema passed a look of pleading disagreement to her husband, but her father’s words counteracted any emotion that her look might have awakened inside Ischarus. “You have already agreed to go, my dear. We will survive here. If you are to find your answers, you must begin while the information can be found. If you wait until the villa is built and safe, your answers may well have vanished and you will have also lost the season to journey.”

The party was keenly aware that there was no mention of Quehalost, although the topic was being discussed throughout the entire conversation. It was a longstanding rule that the name of Quehalost would not be discussed when there were people present who were not intimately involved with the work of the villa. Given what had already taken place with regard to the destruction of the villa, it was even more important that secrets were protected to minimize the possibilities of those who could have known about the work of the villa.

Rhema sighed as her father spoke. “But you’ll be here alone.”

Iasho grinned broadly in response. “And defenseless?”

Ischarus and Semeion both smirked at Iasho’s implications. Rhema lowered her eyes from her father’s face to the ground as she spoke. “Well, yeah. We won’t be here to protect you.”

Iasho couldn’t help but laugh in the manner of a parent who was amused by the unnecessary maturity of their child. “You need not be my protector, Rhema. Perhaps you forget who taught you the family trade? Perhaps you forget whose friend it was that began your own instruction in the arts of the mind? I am no decrepit old man, at least not yet.”

Rhema brought her face up to look upon her father’s face once more, but he lifted up a finger to keep her quiet. “I know you love me and want me to live long enough to be an old man who sits on his porch telling tales of the adventures of his youth to his grandchildren. I desire that as well. But the time for that is not yet here. It will come one day. Go and do the task ahead of you.”

That was really all that needed to be said. In spite of Iasho’s earlier warning that to go with Opheiluka would mean potentially staying out of Quehalost for the season, he ultimately was in support of whatever the party had decided. Rhema’s love had been noted, but it could not be allowed to prevent their journey. A few supplies were quickly gathered and the horses were prepared. Within an hour the party found themselves saying their goodbyes and heading down the road in the direction of Fingerdale.

Their journey would lead them past Fingerdale and west. They would head to Partuss and continue even further west. Halfway between Partuss and Bacrothen a branch of the road would turn south and head towards Eberdeen. Rhema had been right that the journey would take over a week.

They were familiar enough with the road, however. In order to get from Fingerdale to Reignsburg and south into Quehalost the party had to choose either this path or another. The roads leading into Eberdeen were the most secure and the party usually journeyed along these roads when they were headed into Quehalost to ensure that their journey would not be delayed. On the return trips, the party often traveled east through Juniper before turning north toward Fingerdale. In either case, the roads that Ophee had hinted at traveling were well known and would not be difficult to travel.

The trip from Huetown to Fingerdale passed by easily. Over the course of the travel Ophee explained that although her master lived in Eberdeen, she was placed in charge of gathering information in Fingerdale and the surrounding areas. Her master had scouts in all of the major cities of Tongra in addition to the capitols of Barghost and Fenneress. Although he was successful in the herbalist business, he was also what Ophee called an information broker. Her master thrived on discovering methods for finding out useful information. Often this talent was what made him his most significant sums of money. Ophee explained that it was also this talent that gave him the confidence that he could find someone who could tell the party why the villa had been destroyed.

The party stayed for a night in Fingerdale before restocking their traveling supplies. The next several days of traveling passed by uneventfully as they journeyed from Fingerdale through Partuss. They were fortunate to be a party of significant size in addition to being well armed. Most highwaymen would have good cause to let the party travel through the areas of their influence without harassment. The merchant caravans also traveling along the road would provide easier and more lucrative targets as far as income would be concerned.

Once the party passed through Partuss they found the road that turned away from Bacrothen and turned towards Eberdeen. Ophee explained that the woods north of Bacrothen were plagued by odd types of denizens, but she also knew that their size and force would keep them at bay. Each night they were careful to post two watches as sentries, although this meant that each member of the party received about two hours of sleep less than ideal. Given that the alternative to the reduced sleep might be waking up to the dangerous side of an axe blade, the extra duty for watch was readily accepted.

Nine days in total passed by as the party made good progress from Fingerdale to Eberdeen. Around noon on the ninth day the party crested a hill and saw the welcome spires of the capitol’s wizardry college. After another half an hour of traveling the thick walls of the protective keeps and various guard posts could be seen as well.

Unlike Fingerdale, Eberdeen was not contained by a protective wall. Since Eberdeen was centrally located within Tongra, there was little that could reach Eberdeen without advance notification. Eberdeen had once had a wall, but the city had grown tremendously under the leadership of King Rupert’s lineage. The kings who had come before the current Rupert king had emphasized trade with Barghost and Fenneress instead of military dominance. The land still maintained an army, by it was largely a defensive construction rather than an offensive army geared for occupation. The smaller army implied that more resources could be applied to business, economics, and trade with their neighbors.

The effect of the leadership from the Rupert family line was to make Tongra much more political, diplomatic, and economically concerned. Cities and towns prospered under their rule and Eberdeen was no exception. The capitol quickly outgrew its walls and the city advisors knew that there was no sense building new walls until the city had reached its maximum capacity.

By the time the land stabilized, the city of Eberdeen was simply too large to quarter off behind walls. Instead, guard posts were established in areas that would grant them the greatest visibility. Four keeps were built to house the city guards and what remained of the king’s standing army. As the party approached from the north, they could easily make out the thick protective walls of the north and east keeps. They were massive structures; and they had been designed to be able to section off the entire population and house them safely in the individual keeps in time of immediate danger.

Between the party and each of the keeps were several guard posts and checkpoints. It was from the northernmost of these checkpoints that the party realized that they would be officially welcomed into Eberdeen. A section of the cavalry rode out from the nearest checkpoint and looked as though they were quite intent on intercepting and interrogating the party.

Ophee smiled and turned in her saddle so that she could look each of the party members in the eye and relax them. “The guards must be set to active searching today. They perform passive observation most days, but a few random days each month they are set to perform searches of anyone trying to enter Eberdeen. It helps to control smuggling and other various criminal actions. But don’t worry. Let me talk to the guards. The business of my master is well known to the guards. They will allow us passage without much trouble.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Mahtave]

Ophee smiled and turned in her saddle so that she could look each of the party members in the eye and relax them. “The guards must be set to active searching today. They perform passive observation most days, but a few random days each month they are set to perform searches of anyone trying to enter Eberdeen. It helps to control smuggling and other various criminal actions. But don’t worry. Let me talk to the guards. The business of my master is well known to the guards. They will allow us passage without much trouble.”

Heh - famous last words that....

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Reply To Reader ... Not An Update

Thanks for the response!

Heh - famous last words that....

First off, glad you are still reading! I hope the story has pulled you in, although this one is more different in tone and less straightforward an adventure than the last.

Second, I'll add a bit of perspective on Opheiluka as a character that I wasn't planning on including in the story - since there was some interest in this area. There are several things that are true about Ophee. First, she is insanely loyal to the wizard that she serves. For now, I'll leave it at that because her loyalty (in addition to the motivations behind it as cause and the results of that loyalty) will spin out later in the story. However, in addition to her loyalty, she is also extremely confident in her ability to handle certain situations. Whether her confidence is justified or not has yet to be seen. But self-confidence is not one of Ophee's problems.

As for her name ... if you know what the koine greek verb Opheilo [That would be Omicron - Phi - Epsilon - Iota - Lambda - Omega] means you will have an advantage. For readers who might know the verb - or who might be able to find out what it means - please don't post it here. [Koine Greek is the Greek dialect evolving out of the armies of Alexander the Great]

As for the city guard ... well ... I'll make you all wait until the next installment before giving out details on what's to come!