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<blockquote data-quote="Greenfield" data-source="post: 5926905" data-attributes="member: 6669384"><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Sylus fought the wave of nausea that crashed through him, and managed to hold his ground until the world stopped spinning around him.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Marcus, let's not do that again, real soon.", he declared firmly, his eyes scanning the shadows about him.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Marcus?", he called again, more urgently. The room he found himself in had eight symbols on the floor, just like the cavern they had left, but only four of them held people.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"What in Tartarus was that?", Euphemia demanded.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"That's probably more accurate than you think.", Penn managed to choke out. "Marcus, what have you gotten us into?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Marcus isn't here.", Sylus said grimly. "Neither are Seeburn, Cassius or Nedel."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"What?", asked Apellenea in surprise. "Where are they?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I don't know.", Sylus continued, "but the floor is covered in ashes and dust, and there aren't any foot prints. They aren't here, and they haven't been here."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"They might not have made it.", Penn said in shock. "I think the Plutonians wanted to sacrifice the Orc Cleric to power their spell. Without him..."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The rest stood in silent shock at the thought. Had the priests of the Underworld really sacrificed the others to achieve their goals? It was exactly the sort of think they would do.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then Penn began to laugh. It was a sick laughter, interrupted by much coughing and choking as he struggled to throw off the after effects of the transport spell.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Those fools!", he managed to choke out. "They thought I had the weapon, because I spoke up. But Nedel was the one carrying it. If they sacrificed him to get me here..."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Wherever 'here' is.", Sylus said, looking at the Bard in shock. "But wherever we are, that's where we are, and I for one don't plan to spend the rest of my life here. Let's find a way out."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Their first steps out of the symbols were staggering ones, and it took a few more before their legs began to work properly. They'd been near exhaustion when the ritual was performed, and the shock of the transition hadn't helped. Still, they needed to do something.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Pairing up, they began to explore.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"The floor is hot, but it's cooling off.", Euphemia observed as soon as her bare feet hit the stones outside of her ritual symbol.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"And these doorways used to have doors.", Sylus added, noting the still smoking timbers in the openings. "Whatever they used to move us here must have blasted the area first."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">One opening lead to a collapsed stair, where thin daylight could be seen filtering through the rubble. Another lead to a kitchen and dining area, though the pantry was bare. The third one lead to sleeping quarters, stripped of all bedding and anything of value. The last lead to another stair, also obstructed, but more passable than the first.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">It had taken hours to clear a way out of the ritual chamber, and what stood above was scarcely any more welcoming. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"They said this was another temple.", Penn said, as he dragged himself to a collapsed wall. "They didn't mention that it was in ruins."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"The Vandals got here years ago, before Rome was sacked.", Sylus said. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Then there should be something growing here. Grasses, trees, something."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"There might have been, Apellenea.", Euphemea replied. "All these stones are warm. The blast must have covered the whole temple ground. Anyone or anything that grew here would have been incinerated.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Then we can't stay.", Sylus said sharply. "That blast would have been visible for miles. And, if the Plutonian priests are planning on sending the rest of our friends, we don't want to be here when they arrive."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The other three wrenched themselves up from their resting places and followed Sylus, who at least acted as if he knew where he was going.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">They wove their way through the remains of walls and outbuildings, heading towards the northern hills. They didn't stop until they found green, growing things near a small spring, and there they collapsed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"We'll rest here for the night.", Sylus said. "Hopefully, the others will be here tomorrow."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Penn had begun to rummage through his pack, taking stock of what he had with him. "They won't be coming.", he said sadly, as he pulled out the darkwood coffer that held the Blade.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I don't know if the Plutonians put this in my bag, or if it moved itself, but if the others were going to join us, it would have been left with them. So I think they're dead."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"But we still have to keep going now.", Apellenea said. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"To Tartarus with the Plutonians and their quest!", Penn swore. "They hijacked us, lied to us and killed our friends, just so they could have their way. We could have come on horseback. It would have taken longer, but we could have made it in time. If those bastards were here I'd..."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Kill them?", the Druidess finished, gently pulling the Bard's hands away from the chest. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">He looked down, realizing that he'd been about to open the box and take up the blade.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"If we don't destroy that thing, they'll have died for nothing.", Apellenea said. "We can deal with the Plutonian Order after we're done."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">His rage abated, exhaustion once again took over, and Penn sagged back onto the ground.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Night came and went, and nothing disturbed them. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">*** </span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">[FONT=&quot]The winter sky loomed threatening as the companions made their way northward. The mountains ahead were covered in white, and they knew that the next bit of winter that swept their way would make the mountain roads impassible.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Penn, why don't you wrap up?', Apellenea asked as she pulled her cloak tighter.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I can't.", the Bard replied. "Most of my traveling gear is still on my horse, down south. I'll have to wait until we find a town."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Well, a hot meal will help.", she said, evoking a bitter laugh from Penn.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"You don't have any food either?", Euphemia asked, unsurprised.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I travel light.", came the reply. "I didn't expect to be underground for days, and I certainly didn't expect rain or snow while I was down there."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Can't you do something about that? You have that magic thing you do."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I can get us drunk, if you think that will help.", the Bard laughed. "Fed? That's another problem."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Well, the hunting will be poor this high up and this late in the season", Sylus said, "but I'll see if I can tag us a rabbit or two. We'll roast them, and that will help."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The Ranger was as good as his word, and they ate fairly well that evening.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">***</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The next day saw a turn in their fortunes as they encountered a shepherd and his flock, a Dwarven boy, judging by the thin wisp of a beard.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Halloo", called Sylus as they approached. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Welcomen, froinden.", replied the lad, his Imperial heavily accented with his native Dwarven tongue. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Can you tell us where the nearest town is?", Penn asked. "One where we can get some horses."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The boy had started to point east, then hesitated. "There aren't any horses.", he said sadly. "They were all taken by the armies years ago, and we haven't had any since."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Well, that's all right. A good night at the inn, a drink by a roaring fire. It's all good."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">And again the lad looked crestfallen. "There isn't an inn. We don't get many travelers. But I'm sure someone will have a room."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then he got a curious look about him. "Did you see the lights?", he asked. "It looked like the old temple was active again."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Temple? Active?", Penn asked, feigning ignorance.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Aye. There's a temple, maybe a day's walk south. Every once in a while the whole place lights up the sky. You can see it from here, even at mid day."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Well, we're coming from up Rome.", Penn said evasively. "And we didn't see any lights. Must have missed it."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Ah, too bad. I'd like to be there, just once, when it happens. It would be a wonderful sight."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">They nodded, thanked the lad, and headed off to the east.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">***</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Sorry, but we have no room.", said the fourth homesteader they'd met. It was obvious that the group's outlandish appearance was the reason, but everyone was too polite to actually say anything. Like many Dwarves, the farmers here felt no kinship with the Elves, and half of the remaining companions were clearly of the forest folk.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"We have a barn you can use.", the lady of the house added. "There's room in the loft."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Blessings upon you dear lady.", Penn said happily, and followed as they were lead past her scowling husband to the building in question.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The building was clean, obviously used for storage rather than livestock, and they quickly settled in.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"How can we thank you?", Penn asked, using all of his charm. "I see that your trade is in wool. Is there anything we might do to help you with that craft."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Not unless you've a steady hand with the loom or wheel.", the woman laughed. "Or perhaps you can keep the merchants from cheating us this year. They buy our blankets for pennies, and sell them for ten times as much."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Penn looked at the bundles of wool, ready to be carded and washed. "How do you dye these?", he asked, his head filled with ideas. "A good color will raise the prices."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Oh, we have local dyes, greens and browns. A bit of the wine red as well, but the good dyes are too pricey for more than a few special bits."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"It is the way of my people to make dull things festive.", he explained. "If you have but a few drops of the rarer dyes, the special magics may provide you with a bounty."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The woman pursed her lips for a moment, then made a decision. "What do you need?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Just a dying vat filled with water, a sample of the dyes, and a few items from your kitchen."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The woman nodded and directed him to follow her. From a small chest she produced several small vials. The first was an intense red, like a cardinal's feathers in sunlight. The second was rich, brilliant purple, and the third was the blue of a summer sky.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Penn handled the precious objects delicately. He took a few grains of the red powder and mixed it with a few drops of white wine to activate it. After carefully testing the mixture to ensure that it wasn't toxic, he then asked the farm wife's approval on the concentration.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Once that was done, a small amount passed his lips, and singing the song of change he touched the palms of his hands lightly onto the surface of the clear liquid. Color swirled away from his hands like smoke in the water, and in seconds the huge cauldron was filled with dye of a red so deep it looked almost black.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"If you have a second vat, I can do the Phoenician as well.", he offered. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"No, I have just the one here at the moment, but I can borrow another.", the woman said in eager wonder.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Perhaps tomorrow.", Penn said smiling. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">There were thick woolen blankets and a kettle of fine stew delivered to the barn soon after.</span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span>[/FONT]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Greenfield, post: 5926905, member: 6669384"] [FONT=Arial]*** Sylus fought the wave of nausea that crashed through him, and managed to hold his ground until the world stopped spinning around him. "Marcus, let's not do that again, real soon.", he declared firmly, his eyes scanning the shadows about him. "Marcus?", he called again, more urgently. The room he found himself in had eight symbols on the floor, just like the cavern they had left, but only four of them held people. "What in Tartarus was that?", Euphemia demanded. "That's probably more accurate than you think.", Penn managed to choke out. "Marcus, what have you gotten us into?" "Marcus isn't here.", Sylus said grimly. "Neither are Seeburn, Cassius or Nedel." "What?", asked Apellenea in surprise. "Where are they?" "I don't know.", Sylus continued, "but the floor is covered in ashes and dust, and there aren't any foot prints. They aren't here, and they haven't been here." "They might not have made it.", Penn said in shock. "I think the Plutonians wanted to sacrifice the Orc Cleric to power their spell. Without him..." The rest stood in silent shock at the thought. Had the priests of the Underworld really sacrificed the others to achieve their goals? It was exactly the sort of think they would do. Then Penn began to laugh. It was a sick laughter, interrupted by much coughing and choking as he struggled to throw off the after effects of the transport spell. "Those fools!", he managed to choke out. "They thought I had the weapon, because I spoke up. But Nedel was the one carrying it. If they sacrificed him to get me here..." "Wherever 'here' is.", Sylus said, looking at the Bard in shock. "But wherever we are, that's where we are, and I for one don't plan to spend the rest of my life here. Let's find a way out." Their first steps out of the symbols were staggering ones, and it took a few more before their legs began to work properly. They'd been near exhaustion when the ritual was performed, and the shock of the transition hadn't helped. Still, they needed to do something. Pairing up, they began to explore. "The floor is hot, but it's cooling off.", Euphemia observed as soon as her bare feet hit the stones outside of her ritual symbol. "And these doorways used to have doors.", Sylus added, noting the still smoking timbers in the openings. "Whatever they used to move us here must have blasted the area first." One opening lead to a collapsed stair, where thin daylight could be seen filtering through the rubble. Another lead to a kitchen and dining area, though the pantry was bare. The third one lead to sleeping quarters, stripped of all bedding and anything of value. The last lead to another stair, also obstructed, but more passable than the first. *** It had taken hours to clear a way out of the ritual chamber, and what stood above was scarcely any more welcoming. "They said this was another temple.", Penn said, as he dragged himself to a collapsed wall. "They didn't mention that it was in ruins." "The Vandals got here years ago, before Rome was sacked.", Sylus said. "Then there should be something growing here. Grasses, trees, something." "There might have been, Apellenea.", Euphemea replied. "All these stones are warm. The blast must have covered the whole temple ground. Anyone or anything that grew here would have been incinerated. "Then we can't stay.", Sylus said sharply. "That blast would have been visible for miles. And, if the Plutonian priests are planning on sending the rest of our friends, we don't want to be here when they arrive." The other three wrenched themselves up from their resting places and followed Sylus, who at least acted as if he knew where he was going. They wove their way through the remains of walls and outbuildings, heading towards the northern hills. They didn't stop until they found green, growing things near a small spring, and there they collapsed. "We'll rest here for the night.", Sylus said. "Hopefully, the others will be here tomorrow." Penn had begun to rummage through his pack, taking stock of what he had with him. "They won't be coming.", he said sadly, as he pulled out the darkwood coffer that held the Blade. "I don't know if the Plutonians put this in my bag, or if it moved itself, but if the others were going to join us, it would have been left with them. So I think they're dead." "But we still have to keep going now.", Apellenea said. "To Tartarus with the Plutonians and their quest!", Penn swore. "They hijacked us, lied to us and killed our friends, just so they could have their way. We could have come on horseback. It would have taken longer, but we could have made it in time. If those bastards were here I'd..." "Kill them?", the Druidess finished, gently pulling the Bard's hands away from the chest. He looked down, realizing that he'd been about to open the box and take up the blade. "If we don't destroy that thing, they'll have died for nothing.", Apellenea said. "We can deal with the Plutonian Order after we're done." His rage abated, exhaustion once again took over, and Penn sagged back onto the ground. Night came and went, and nothing disturbed them. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]*** [/FONT] [FONT=Arial][FONT="]The winter sky loomed threatening as the companions made their way northward. The mountains ahead were covered in white, and they knew that the next bit of winter that swept their way would make the mountain roads impassible. "Penn, why don't you wrap up?', Apellenea asked as she pulled her cloak tighter. "I can't.", the Bard replied. "Most of my traveling gear is still on my horse, down south. I'll have to wait until we find a town." "Well, a hot meal will help.", she said, evoking a bitter laugh from Penn. "You don't have any food either?", Euphemia asked, unsurprised. "I travel light.", came the reply. "I didn't expect to be underground for days, and I certainly didn't expect rain or snow while I was down there." "Can't you do something about that? You have that magic thing you do." "I can get us drunk, if you think that will help.", the Bard laughed. "Fed? That's another problem." "Well, the hunting will be poor this high up and this late in the season", Sylus said, "but I'll see if I can tag us a rabbit or two. We'll roast them, and that will help." The Ranger was as good as his word, and they ate fairly well that evening. *** The next day saw a turn in their fortunes as they encountered a shepherd and his flock, a Dwarven boy, judging by the thin wisp of a beard. "Halloo", called Sylus as they approached. "Welcomen, froinden.", replied the lad, his Imperial heavily accented with his native Dwarven tongue. "Can you tell us where the nearest town is?", Penn asked. "One where we can get some horses." The boy had started to point east, then hesitated. "There aren't any horses.", he said sadly. "They were all taken by the armies years ago, and we haven't had any since." "Well, that's all right. A good night at the inn, a drink by a roaring fire. It's all good." And again the lad looked crestfallen. "There isn't an inn. We don't get many travelers. But I'm sure someone will have a room." Then he got a curious look about him. "Did you see the lights?", he asked. "It looked like the old temple was active again." "Temple? Active?", Penn asked, feigning ignorance. "Aye. There's a temple, maybe a day's walk south. Every once in a while the whole place lights up the sky. You can see it from here, even at mid day." "Well, we're coming from up Rome.", Penn said evasively. "And we didn't see any lights. Must have missed it." "Ah, too bad. I'd like to be there, just once, when it happens. It would be a wonderful sight." They nodded, thanked the lad, and headed off to the east. *** "Sorry, but we have no room.", said the fourth homesteader they'd met. It was obvious that the group's outlandish appearance was the reason, but everyone was too polite to actually say anything. Like many Dwarves, the farmers here felt no kinship with the Elves, and half of the remaining companions were clearly of the forest folk. "We have a barn you can use.", the lady of the house added. "There's room in the loft." "Blessings upon you dear lady.", Penn said happily, and followed as they were lead past her scowling husband to the building in question. The building was clean, obviously used for storage rather than livestock, and they quickly settled in. "How can we thank you?", Penn asked, using all of his charm. "I see that your trade is in wool. Is there anything we might do to help you with that craft." "Not unless you've a steady hand with the loom or wheel.", the woman laughed. "Or perhaps you can keep the merchants from cheating us this year. They buy our blankets for pennies, and sell them for ten times as much." Penn looked at the bundles of wool, ready to be carded and washed. "How do you dye these?", he asked, his head filled with ideas. "A good color will raise the prices." "Oh, we have local dyes, greens and browns. A bit of the wine red as well, but the good dyes are too pricey for more than a few special bits." "It is the way of my people to make dull things festive.", he explained. "If you have but a few drops of the rarer dyes, the special magics may provide you with a bounty." The woman pursed her lips for a moment, then made a decision. "What do you need?" "Just a dying vat filled with water, a sample of the dyes, and a few items from your kitchen." The woman nodded and directed him to follow her. From a small chest she produced several small vials. The first was an intense red, like a cardinal's feathers in sunlight. The second was rich, brilliant purple, and the third was the blue of a summer sky. Penn handled the precious objects delicately. He took a few grains of the red powder and mixed it with a few drops of white wine to activate it. After carefully testing the mixture to ensure that it wasn't toxic, he then asked the farm wife's approval on the concentration. Once that was done, a small amount passed his lips, and singing the song of change he touched the palms of his hands lightly onto the surface of the clear liquid. Color swirled away from his hands like smoke in the water, and in seconds the huge cauldron was filled with dye of a red so deep it looked almost black. "If you have a second vat, I can do the Phoenician as well.", he offered. "No, I have just the one here at the moment, but I can borrow another.", the woman said in eager wonder. "Perhaps tomorrow.", Penn said smiling. There were thick woolen blankets and a kettle of fine stew delivered to the barn soon after. 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Curse of Darkness VI - The Valley of the Sun
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