The Fate of Istus

[airwalkrr]

What follows is my rendition of the events of the module WG8: The Fate of Istus. Although not a very popular series of adventures, it is special in that it gives a taste of the width and breadth of the Flanaess. It is also one of the first examples of an "Adventure Path" with an epic scope. So sit back and enjoy, as I give you The Fate of Istus.

"Zilchus be poor!" Gedric exclaimed as he and his friend Padree stopped running to catch their breath, "that vendor nearly had us!"

"I know," his tawny young companion replied, "that was a close one, Ged."

The two guttersnipes stood hunched over, their hands on their knees, glancing every moment or so over their shoulder to make sure the large man from the bread cart who had been chasing them had not followed. They were fast friends with nothing in the world but each other, and it was a treasured possession indeed in the City of Ravens where thieves ruled and no one could be trusted. Ever since they could both remember they had been together. Virtually all that they knew about where they came from was that Padree's father had come from the Baklunish West and Gedric's whore of a mother had lived in Rookroost all of her short, miserable life.

Padree had vague memories of losing sight of her father in a local market and never seeing him again, but she was so young at the time that the details had never been clear. She remembered shouting, and something large obscuring her view, but that was all. Gedric's story was much simpler. Raised in a whorehouse with his mother, he had been thrown out after being caught stealing food one too many times from Drady, his mother's pimp. His mother never put up much of a protest, and so Gedric had lived the rest of his life on the streets. He met Padree shortly after being "evicted" and the two had been close ever since.

The scamps seemed safe. For now at least, the angry man with the large, bushy black beard was nowhere in sight. The alley provided relative privacy and they both salivated at the thought of their prize, half a loaf of pumpernickel Padree had swiped while Gedric had distracted the owner of the cart by pretending to be ill.

"You got it?" the boy asked his companion.

The gril grinned and produced from inside her shirt the savory half of a loaf of bread. "Sure do," she replied, "couldn't have done it without you amusing that old pidgeon."

"Aw, it weren't nothin'," the boy responded with a chuckle, "you're the one who bit the blow."

"Enough talk," the girl demanded, "here's your share," she said, dividing the spoils and handing him part.

They dove into their meal with gusto, voraciously chomping at the soft, warm bread, barely stopping to chew, let alone savor the flavor. No sooner had they begun to enjoy the feast however, than it was rudely interrupted by a pitiful soul wallowing in the corner of the alley. The fellow was in dire straits, covered in rent garments and sporting splotchy red pustules on his face and hands. It looked as if he barely had the strength to move, but it seemed he had mustered up enough to speak.

"Please young ones," he whispered to them hoarsely, "might I garner a bit of crust from that marvelous loaf, or would you at least provide this woeful wretch a drink from the fountain?"

"Bugger off you filthy canter!" Padree managed to spurt out in between generous mouthfuls, not even bothering to look at the poor beggar.

The man just wheezed for a moment, but suddenly his voice exploded in newfound anger, "Why you inconsiderate prigs!" he screamed, "you bastards of euroz! I hope you choke on that ill-gotten meal and die in this alley!"

It was then that Gedric noticed the man's sores. As the invalid hurled spiteful invective against them, Ged's jaw sagged and his eyes grew wide. His friend, still not bothering to look over at the screaming supplicant noticed his less than dedicated attention to his food and reminded him to finish, else she would finish for him.

"Pad," he said under his breath after loudly gulping the bite he had been chewing, "he's got it."

"Got what?" she barely managed to utter through the great quantity of pumpernickel filling her mouth.

It was then that she finally got a glimpse of the beggar in the corner. At the first sight of his crimson sores, she ejected the food from her mouth and let out a horrified shriek. At that point the two pubescent pickpockets forgot all about their empty bellies and fled in terror. The man had "it." That is to say, the Plague. The Red Death. The dreadful disease that had ravaged the city for months. It had claimed the lives of hundreds, some said thousands, and the funeral pyres were lit day and night to purge the city of the infected bodies. The beggar they had seen was in the final stages of the debilitating sickness, barely able to move, and sure to see the Reaper very soon. Suffice it to say, the youths were running for their very lives.

 

[airwalkrr]

It was the second time today they had fled, but this time they feared more than just being turned over to the city watch. This time, they feared death itself. Everyone avoided those showing the telltale signs; the red edemas, the partial paralysis, even dementia were all signs that one's death warrant had been signed. Some managed to live with it for weeks, while others were dead in a matter of days, but no one had ever recovered, at least no one the two scamps had ever heard about. No one knew where the disease had come from or how to get rid of it. Even the gods seemed to ignore the pleas of Rookroost's citizenry for help. Priests of every power from Gruumsh to Atroa had offered up prayers and performed rituals, but even the most powerful of divine magic offered no solace for those infected with the terrible malady. The plague was a death sentence, irrevocable and without appeal. Padree and Gedric were all too familiar with it. So they ran as fast as their legs would carry them.

As they rounded the corner of an adjacent side street, they saw an unpleasantly familiar sight. The man from the bread cart was looking behind barrels and crates and asking passersby if they had seen the miscreants who had swiped his merchandise. They tried to double back and look for another route, but it was too late. They had lept out of the frying pan and into the baker's oven.

"That ole' provendor's after us again!" Gedric called in warning to his accomplice.

"I can see that you ninny!" she replied in aggravation.

The pair headed the opposite way from the livid man, trying their hardest to find a hidden nook or alley to dive into, but there was not much traffic on the road that would provide them with cover needed to elude their pursuer. Unfortunately, it was just busy enough to provide numerous potential hazards that threatened to injure them if they were not careful, hence, they were slowed. Added to that was the increased distraction of the chase and their tendency to look over their shoulder to see just how far close he had gotten and it is quite understandable that the two bowled into a tall half-elf adorned with a silver circlet and shimmering white mantle.

The half-elf immediately grabbed both of them by the collar and lifted them off their feat. His looks did not betray his surprising strength. The young thieves struggled their best but were unable to release themselves from the fellow of mixed descent. A lump filled their throats as they came to the realization that they had been caught. Once the angry grocer caught up they would likely be turned into the watch, and then Pelor knows what would become of them in the horrid city dungeons. They had heard rumors that sufferers of the plague had been thrown down there to rot away out of sight of the general public. It simultaneously served the dual purpose of potentially infecting the other prisoners, making expenses easier on General Pernevi, the city's corrupt and loathsome ruler.

The irate victim of their petty crime stomped up to the half-elf and the doomed youngsters. His face was a strange mix of relief and hatred, respectively felt toward the half-elf and the thieves.

"Much thanks to you sir," he said to the immaculately dressed half-blood, "Istus knows how much longer my old bones could have pursued them."

"Quite alright, sir," the half-elf replied, "now if you will be so kind as to be on your way, I shall ensure my children are disciplined properly."

"Your children?" the man uttered in disbelief. Clearly he was a bit perplexed by the lack of family resemblence. The two young snipes were fairly surprised themselves and stopped struggling long enough to share confused glances with each other.

"Yes, they are quite a handful sometimes, but bygones shall be bygones, yes?" the half-elf stated plainly with a quick wink.

"Um, well," the old vendor stuttered, "yes, I suppose, but what about the matter of my lost profits?"

"Of course," the half-elf replied. He then shifted one of the little larcenists to his other hand, effectively gripping both of them with a single arm. After that he reached into his purse with a free hand and produced a shiny silver noble which he placed gently in the grizzled shopkeeper's palm.

The man was as stunned as Padree and Gedric. The noble was worth far more than what they had stolen. This half-elf was apparently quite rich to be capable of affording such an indulgence. He was also quite stupid for displaying such wealth in a city so rife with thievery as Rookroost. The man cuped the silver in his hands, bit it to ensure its authenticity, then grinned at the half-elf before letting out a short guffah and headed cheerily back to his bread stand.

The half-elf then turned his attention to Ged and Pad, no longer struggling due to shock and amazement. "Now then," he said, "let's get you two a hot meal so you'll stop stealing one from others."

 

[airwalkrr]

The Drunken Dragon was as crowded and rowdy as you would expect in a city filled to the brim with rogues. Handsome wenches with bountiful bosoms bounced from table to table picking up dry mugs and replacing them with full ones whilst batting away the grubby paws of lecherous patrons and penny minstrels hawked their tunes for anyone who would listen in every corner. It was a raucous scene, one that Gedric and Padree were not used to, but their half-elf captor/savior maneuvered through the chaos with the adroit agility of an acrobat, launched them toward an open table in the back, and then seated himself. He whistled at a barmaid, a buxom woman with bright red hair and freckled breasts. Her red-painted lips were ample and pursed in a coy manner as she looked towards the attractive fellow's call. "A stout brandy for me. The young ones will have the mutton, and bring them a pint of beer to wash it down."

The two waifs looked haplessly at each other. Beer? Neither could remember ever having anything finer than water from a horse trough. Gedric had swiped a jug of watered-down wine once, but it had been sitting out to long and turned out to be acrid and foul. The scarlet-haired maid performed her duty at an admirably rapid pace. Soon Gedric and Padree were shoveling mutton into their mouths and washing it down with warm, frothy beer as quickly as their little hands could grab it off the plate. For them, it was a meal fit for a king, and in short time they were stuffed, their full bellies resting gently in satisfaction.

"That was quite a display," the half-elf said once they had finished, "I take it you don't come here often."

"No, sir," Padree replied, thinking it best to mind what little manners she had.

"We ain't never had fare like this before Mr. Elf," Gedric blurted out, then blushed and sat back. The half-elf just chuckled and cracked a grin at the boy's untoward remark. But then he quickly got down to business.

"I am actually only part elf my young friend, but I imagine since there are few elves in this part, you wouldn't know the difference. Anyway, I was bedazzled by your performance out there in the streets and couldn't help but notice what caused you to be reintroduced to your merchant friend in the most unfortunate of ways."

Gedric and Padree stared blankly at each other. The strange person sitting across from them wore funny clothes and talked even stranger.

"Pardon me, sir," Padree piped up, "but what in the Hells did you just say?"

The half-elf chuckled again, "Ah, you street-raised urchins really are quite ignorant." He smiled smugly as if he had just played a prank on them without their knowledge.

"I think he just insulted us, Pad," Gedric said, asking as much as stating fact. His companion just shrugged. She had no idea where this queer fellow with the pointed ears had come from or where he had learned to talk, but neither of them had the foggiest clue what he was saying them.

"What I mean to say," the half-elf began again, leaning over the table to look them closely in the eye, "is that you are very good thieves, at least for your age."

The two were struck by a moment of dawning comprehension. Gedric began to nod, then stating, "Oh! So that's what you said. You have a funny way of canting."

"That is because I'm not canting," the half-elf replied, "merely using proper language, something the two of you should have learned a long time ago but were unable to because of your heritage, er... upbringing."

"You mean we're street rats!" Padree seemed indignant.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. But you two are really so much more than mere street rats. You are more like the clever wall mice who wait for just the right moment before making off with the cheese." The half-elf added a wink with that, a wink that said far more than any of his words had conveyed to the children. He had seen their entire heist, and was quite impressed.

"So you want us to cloy somethin' from someone in exchange for gettin' us outta that mess, huh?" Gedric said like he finally understood what was going on, "I guess that's fair."

The half-elf's grin turned into a slight sneer and he slapped the boy on the back of his head with a quick flick of his hand. Gedric didn't even see it coming. The half-elf was very fast. "That stings!" Gedric screamed. Padree was grinning from ear to ear; she even giggled a bit.

"You may have street smarts boy, but you aren't too quick on the uptake," the half-elf spouted with a wag of his finger.

"Hey! I'm plenty fast!" Gedric objected, missing the meaning of his tormentor's turn of phrase completely.

"Forget it," the half-elf said, laying the matter aside. He sat back up and stretched his arms before laying them back behind his head and reclining with his feet on the table. They didn't sit there long, for a wench delicately but firmly snatched them up and flicked them back to the ground with a very disapproving stare. The half-elf mocked her as she turned away and then rolled his eyes. "Before we go any further," he continued, "we ought to introduce ourselves. My name is Cymbelline."

 

[airwalkrr]

"Simbulleen?" Gedric said, cocking his eyebrow just a bit. He glanced over to Padree who looked just as surprised.

"Queer name for a queer fella," she said, a goofy grin forming on her face. "Well, I'm Padree, and this is Gedric, Pad and Ged for short. But before we go actin' like we're all friends here, what is it you want with us?"

Cymbelline set his left elbow on the table and then reclined his head upon his left hand. He gazed at the mouthy girl with amusement. Youth is so flighty, he thought, why is it I have no memory of being young? Ah, to be so naive.

"What I want," the half-elf said plainly, "is nothing. It is what you want that should compel you to listen further."

Gedric cocked his head to one side. "He means he knows somethin' we wanna hear," Padree informed him.

Gedric's eyes lit up at the explanation. He nodded his head. "Ok, then elf, we're listening."

"HALF-elf," Cymbelline corrected, "you don't see me spending all my time flitting about trees and making love to fairies do you?" The two urchins shook their heads. "I didn't think so. Now if I may continue, I happen to know a bit about this plague. Nothing stunning of course, but then again, you never can tell when a seemingly trifling bit of information can illuminate a dark mystery."

"You know how to cure the plague?" Padree asked with just a little excitement in her voice, "You could be rich!" she exclaimed.

"Now, now, child. Keep your voice down," the half-elf cautioned, "I don't want wild rumors to start flying and there are ears underneath the tables in this tavern," he said, tapping his nose twice with his finger, "but I do happen to know of something that happened many months ago, right about the time the plague struck. It is my theory that the two incidents may be related."

"That's all well and good," Gedric said, "but you haven't explained why we want to hear this."

"Well, my excellent young foundling, that is the best part. You see, you two are the ones who get to prove whether my theory is correct or not."

Padree and Gedric exchanged blank looks yet again. Cymbelline was very odd, and they were not sure what to make of his words, but something about him made their heartstrings tug. Something in his eloquent speech made them long for something greater than their miserable lives. And if what he was saying was correct, the two of them could be useful in stopping a plague. The two of them might, in fact, become heroes. They immediately became rapt with attention to Cymbelline's every word.

 

[Bryon_Soulweaver]

Hey, cool. Another story hour I'm liking already.

 

[airwalkrr]

"Ok, half-elf," Padree crossed her arms and sat back, "we're listening. But tell me one thing. Who are you to come by such information?"

"Me?" Cymbelline held his hand to his chest in surprise, a rather effeminate maneuver the two young ones thought, "Why, I am nothing more than a footloose poet, a wayfarer, and part-time scoundrel. I have come to know the ways of this city, its ins and outs, and it just so happened I was lucky enough to stumble across such a lark. And I would be happy to share it with you, that is of course, assuming you are on the lookout for a bit of loot, and the possibility of being known as saviors of the city."

"Well that explains that," Gedric said quite sarcastically, "what is it ya know anyway? I'm dying to hear it."

"Now we're getting somewhere," the half-elf said with a flourish of his hand and a sip of his wine, "There is a man in this town... or rather there WAS a man in this town named Ereaden, a great wizard..."

"The Sage," Padree blurted out, "I heard of 'im."

"It's impolite to interrupt, my dear," the half-elf chastised the young girl, "if you don't learn to watch your tongue, it is going to bite you back one day. You're lucky that I'm a patient one. Now where was I? Oh, yes, the Sage of Rookroost. Known to the whole city as a great wizard. It is my understanding that recently he was in the employ of the General himself."

The children balked and stared at each other. General Pernevi was the self-proclaimed ruler of Rookroost. He had, like most of his predecessors before him, come to the position by assassinating the former despot. It was whispered that Pernevi consorted with fiends, and worse, used them to staff his personal guard. Many suspected that a number of his guards were actually denizens of the lower planes who had taken human form. Working with Pernevi was a dangerous proposition, as those who did usually wound up dead by the time their task had been completed. If Cymbelline's task involved someone who was working for the General, then it was serious business, and the two guttersnipes couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by getting involved. But they loved a bit of danger, and besides that, the more the strange half-elf talked, the more they were fascinated by his proposition.

"Yes, General Pernevi," Cymbelline continued, "Ereaden was conducting arcane experiments on the nature of the plague, possibly seeking a way to use it as an implement of terror against Pernevi's enemies, possibly something even more insidious. I would go so far as to speculate that Ereaden's absence is an indication of his success. Perhaps, he met with a bit too much success."

"You see, a week or so before the plague began spreading throughout Rookroost, Ereaden received a package from far away. A muddied ranger delivered a cage that contained a mysterious creature to his tower. The Sage has not been seen ever since he took the cage into his tower."

"How do you know this," Padree looked quizzical, "I mean, you just knew you should stalk the Sage or something?"

"Of course not," Cymbelline replied, "Being a part-time scoundrel I have many means of coming into information, not least of which is the simple task of asking his neighbors about recent happenings. I decided to look into the matter when I realized that the Sage's weekly supplies were piling up outside his door. You see, he made an agreement with his neighbors many years ago to supply him with food and other necessities so that he would have more time to carry out his studies. He hasn't touched his supplies in well over a month, and his tower is completely sealed off to the outside."

"Oh," Padree responded with a rather sheepish look. She slumped down in her chair as the half-elf continued.

"Anyway, it would seem to me that the Sage is dead, "Cymbelline stated, "The creature he received was likely the carrier for the plague. I imagine the creature is still inside the place, and if I know Ereaden's reputation as well as I think I do, I imagine a cure is inside as well. He likely was too far affected by the plague for the cure to work for him, or perhaps the beast turned on him. Either way, his tower seems to hold the best hope for this city."

"So if you think there is a cure in there, why not just go get it yerself?" Gedric asked, laying his elbow down on the table and leaning on it with a critical look on his face.

"I said I was a part-time scoundrel, not a congenital idiot," the half-elf responded, "If I'm right, there's plague in that tower."

"Oh so it's alright for us to catch it then?" Padree sat up, a look of indignation on her place.

"Well, I imagine your encounter with the fellow in the alley might have already taken care of that. I wouldn't be surprised if you were infected with the pestilence already. Some say it travels through the breath."

The two young ones collectively gulped. The half-elf was right. The beggar in the alley was fairly close to them and they hadn't even noticed. With the way the plague had been spreading throughout the city like wildfire, they might indeed be only a day away from showing the first signs of infection.

"Either way, I have nothing to prove myself, "Cymbelline said casually before the mortified youngsters, "My needs are taken care of and the only thing I would gain from such an endeavor would be a stoked ego. You two on the other hand..."

The kids saw his point. If he was right, they also had nothing to lose. But they were also hopelessly ill-prepared for such a task. They were street rats, not professional thieves. They weren't properly skilled or equipped for a burglary.

Gedric was about to say something, but Padree quickly cut him off, anticipating his thoughts, "We don't know the first thing about burgling!"

"Obviously," Cymbelline replied, not at all moved by the protest, but his eyes lit up, as if it had given him an idea, "I know someone you should meet. She's a friend of mine; she'll arrange for you to get some training."

With that, Cymbelline pulled a scroll of paper out of his chest pocket and laid it down on the table. "Her business is discreet, but it's easy to find if you know what you're looking for. Follow these directions to Benedict's. Knock on the door and ask to speak to the mother of the person who answers. Mention my name. The woman will help you, but there is bound to be a cost. You'll be able to work it off though."

Gedric and Padree were very confused. This was all moving so fast. They had gone from scuttling in the streets to starting on the path to be heroes all in one afternoon. They were anxious, but also afraid. The half-elf offered them an opportunity they would probably never have again. Yet it was dangerous, and it promised nothing but a journey into the unknown. Before they had time to think seriously on it, Cymbelline was standing.

"I am afraid I have to take my leave now. You two are bright though. You'll figure it out."

"But..." Padree began, but Cymbelline stopped her.

"But nothing. I promise you I really don't know anything else that could help. You have all you need though. The choice to do something great is yours. All you have to do is make it."

The richly garbed half-elf pulled his cloak over and vaunted for the door, turning heads as he went. A pickpocket attempted to swipe a link from his cuffs on the way out, but the half-elf was quite perceptive and slapped the would-be thief on the hand with a knowing glare before making his way out the door. Gedric and Padree sat there dumbfounded. They couldn't believe what had just happened.

"What do you think, Padree?" Ged asked his companion, "You think we should go talk to this woman at Benedict's?"

Padree thought for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and said, "Why not? The half-elf was right you know. We could have the plague already. No sense sitting here not doing anything about it."

With that, the young girl got up and her comrade quickly followed suit as the two headed outside and made for Cheap Street. Their journey had begun.

 

[HalfOrc HalfBiscuit]

Very nice start, airwalkrr. I shall definitely be keeping an eye on this story.

 

[airwalkrr]

As the young wastrels stepped onto Cheap Street and headed south towards Benedict's Trading Coster, Gedric began to feel antsy, and a bit suspicious.

"Hey, Pad," he said, "Don't it strike you as strange that a fella like that would wanna help us out?"

His companion shrugged, "I dunno," she replied.

"I mean, why would he want us to do this? You think maybe its a trick?" he wondered.

"I dunno," Pad replied yet again.

Gedric kicked at a stone on the ground as they trudged down the avenue. He had spent his whole life having no one to trust but his friend, Padree. This half-elf was the first person other than her to ever show him any sort of kindness. Saving them from the vendor, buying them a hot meal, offering them a possible sliver of hope to pull themselves out of the gutter and for once in their lives to be something. "I'm scared, Pad," he confided.

"I know," she responded and looked over at him. She had a look of worry on her face, but then she put her hand on his shoulder and smiled, "Look, let's make the best of this. If anything, we might be introduced to a real thief, maybe even become apprentices! This mother lady sounds like she might have some kinda connections."

"Yea, you're right," Ged nodded in agreement, "I dunno if we'd be able to burgle a wizard's tower, but maybe we could find better lives if we actually became real thieves. We could steal from like, nobles and stuff."

"That would be dandy," Padree said. The two then proceeded to walk in silence. It was getting to be late in the day and twilight was setting in. Cheap Street ran the entire length of the west side of the city and they had a ways to go before they would arrive at Benedict's. The lantern boys were already trotting out on their stilts to light the roads of the main byways. Keen folk knew to stick to these well-traveled roads at night for their own safety. To venture off was to risk one's wealth, no matter how meager, and possibly even one's life. Padree and Gedric both knew this fact all too well, and made sure to stick to the most well lit parts of the street. Unfortunately for them, this also made them highly visible for a squad of city guards heading north. Pernevi's men were not to be trifled with, but they often made it their business to trifle with passersby in hopes of shaking them down for supplementary income--the guard business wasn't as lucrative as you might believe. The two youngsters knew that if they tried to duck into an alleyway, the guards would just assume they had done something wrong, so they had no choice but to pass right by them. And as they did, the unthinkable happened.

"'Ey there you lit'l curs," one of the guards snapped, "Whats are yas doin' out so late? Shouldn't yas be in yer lit'l beds wit' yer lit'l dollies by now?"

 

[airwalkrr]

"Hey there!" Gedrick bravely jumped between Padree and the three men, "why don't you pick on someone your own size you lugs!"

The men just glanced at each other and grinned before letting out a collective guffaw at the imp's misplaced bravado. "Oh yea," a tall guard with a pronounced Adam's apple and lanky jaw replied, "'Ose gonna stop us? You? With what army?"

The men chuckled among each other as Gedrick grew red with anger at the men. Padree for her part took a step back before she realized there was a fourth guard in the group who had slunk through the shadows to move around behind the children. She let out a shriek of surprise which amplified the men's laughter as the guard behind them clasped his hands on her shoulders. "'Ey there lit'l waif. Didn't think you'd get away so easy now did ya?" he spewed.

Gedric was incensed and Padree was afraid. They had been in bad situations before, but to get caught after dark by Pernevi's men was the worst they had ever seen. The foul guards, their yellowed teeth hanging out of their mouths as they sneered and jeered at the two helpless youngsters, began to toy with their captives like such cruel predators with their crippled prey.

"Better watch yer back, Kerrow," a green-eyed guard with long, hairy whiskers said to another with a huge double chin and a gut to match, "this one looks like quite the fighter," he gestured towards Gedric, whose fists were clenched in vainglorious rage as he held back the tears that were welling up behind his eyes. Meanwhile, Padree was engaged in a futile struggle against the strong guard holding her fast. She was quick and spry, but he had taken her by surprise so that her limber strengths were nullified.

"Don't worry, Padree," Gedric said, trying his best to reassure her, though he knew his attempts were in vain, "I promise you we'll make it out of this. At the end of the night we'll be at Benedict's eating nice food and drinking beer again."

He was trying to think of positive things to distract himself as much as his friend from the rapidly darkening moment. But to his surprise, the unthinkable happened. The guard who had held Padree relinquished his grasp on the struggling girl who immediately sprinted to Gedric's side. The other three guards stood dumbfounded, their mouths agape at the words uttered by the impudent little street boy. Finally, one found his voice and squeaked, "Did... did you just... sss... say B-B-B-Benedict's?"

The boy and girl quickly exchanged looks of befuddlement but Padree seized upon the moment, decided to make the most of their newfound advantage, and pointed her finger at the guards. "That's right! He said Benedict's! And if you don't back off we're gonna tell Benedict exactly what happened here tonight!"

The four men took a cautious step back in unified apprehension. Their eyes had become sunken and wide with anxiety. Gedric could even make out what appeared to be beads of sweat on the fattest one, the one called Kerrow. The kids did not know the first thing about Benedict's, but whatever it was, it struck fear in the hearts of these men.

"C-c-carry on then," one of the guards blurted out before practically doubling over himself and scurrying away with the rest of them following like scolded dogs.

The two were still for a moment. They were both a bit shocked about what had just happened. Now they stood in the streets, alone, nothing but the gentle flickering of a nearby lamp to comfort them. In the cool night air a cry pierced the silence created by the now vacant road ahead. Such cries were common in the city of Rookroost, where thieves reigned and violence was widespread. It wouldn't have normally startled lifelong residents like Padree and Gedric, but something about the eerie encounter that had just transpired made them jump like a spurred horse. For the first time in their lives, the reality of what the scream represented had become all too clear to them. For the first time in their lives, they had been more than just hungry, something other than desperate beggars living from day to day. For the first time in their lives, they had been afraid they might not live to see the light of the next dawn, just as the souls who had cried out every night they had seen before.

There is often a point in every youngster's life when they become more self-aware, more keen on the realities of life, more understanding of the finality of death. It is at this point that the youngster's worldview finally begins to take shape, becoming something other than an amorphous mass of innocent observations and juvenile experiences and forming a cohesive sentience that is altogether more than the sum of its parts. Some call it coming of age. Others may call it adolescence. Yet others refer to it as merely growing up. However you choose to describe it, that moment had solidified in the minds of Pad and Ged. It had taken root in their psyche and memories. It was a moment they would never forget.

*****​

"Pad?" Gedric finally managed to speak up.

"Yea?" his companion responded.

"What just happened?"

"I dunno," Pad replied.

Gedric didn't know why he bothered. Padree was shrewd in moments that required quick thinking and desperate measures, but when it came to long, thoughtful moments, she was always at a loss for words. Gedric often felt this made her a less-than-desirable counterpart for conversation.

"Think about it, Pad," Gedric said, "I just mentioned Benedict's and they wigged out and ran away."

"I know," she said.

He looked at her with a slight measure of disdain and cocked an eyebrow. She just shrugged.

"What kinda place do you think Benedict's is," he asked, "to make Pernevi's cronies act like that?"

"I dunno."

Ged gave up. Padree obviously wasn't going to utter more than two words at a time so it did him no good to keep prodding her for her thoughts. "Let's get on with it," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her in the direction of their destination.

"I'm not a baby," Pad protested, pulling her arm away, "you don't have to drag me around."

"Fine then," Ged replied, "let's just get going."

They walked in silence the rest of the way. There were no more chance encounters upon the road. The skies were clear and Luna hung gracefully in the sky astride her waxing sister Celene. There was more light than usual this night, for normally the sky was covered with foreboding clouds that loomed ever present over Rookroost like a constant manifestation of the city's dismal hopes. The two were keenly aware of everything that went on around them now. Even the pitiful city rat in the dark alley chewing a stray crumb was an incessant racket to their ears.

When they finally arrived at the location indicated by the scrap of paper Cymbelline had given them, they found a run-down warehouse that was utterly devoid of life, other than a few scavenging vermin of course. There was a main door, but it appeared in disrepair and a rotting sign that said "Benedict's Trading Coster" held a tenous grasp to the siding overhead.

"What a crock!" Padree exclaimed, "there's not even anything here. That half-elf lied to us. Now we'll probably get stabbed or kidnapped or something all this way from our part of town."

"Calm down, Pad," her comrade soothed her, "let's poke around a bit and see if we can't figure somethin' out. Maybe it was a riddle of some kind."

"A riddle?" Padree replied incredulously, "Ged, it's a boarded up old warehouse. There's probably nothing but accidents waiting to happen inside."

"Maybe..." Ged said, as he stepped up to the front door, "but maybe not."

He knocked once.

Silence.

He knocked twice.

Silence.

He knocked three times.

Silence. But then a creak, followed by another creak. The door cracked open.