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

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION

The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.

As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need.

Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.

None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.

Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.

The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”

Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.

Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.

Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”

Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”

Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.

Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.

Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”

Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”

Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”

Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.

Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”

Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”

Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.

Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.

The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”

Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.

Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.

Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”

When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.

Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”

Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.

Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.

On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.

Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.

Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.

After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.

Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”

She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”

Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.

As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION

The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.

As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need.

Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.

None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.

Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.

The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”

Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.

Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.

Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”

Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”

Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.

Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.

Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”

Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”

Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”

Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.

Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”

Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”

Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.

Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.

The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”

Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.

Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.

Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”

When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.

Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”

Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.

Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.

On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.

Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.

Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.

After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.

Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”

She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”

Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.

As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

It wasn’t long into the day before Allyssa made her presence known. The first activity of Lord Ironblood’s day was his morning viewing. Each day Lord Ironblood appeared on a large porch that overlooked a public garden on the palace estate. The palace guards allowed a certain number of poor citizens access to the garden each day, and Lord Ironblood used the captive audience to spread his personal propaganda and a few coins. Of course, not all of his propaganda was false. Much of it was a means of bringing the common people to an understanding of his goals for the region of Tongra that was under his influence.

There was a healthy suspicion that this would be the event for the day that Allyssa would use for the assassination. There were a number of reasons that this timetable was believed. First, this was the largest public event on the lord’s schedule, so if Allyssa was looking for an event to spread the most amount of public panic this would be the natural choice. Second, an assassination in the morning would provide the maximum amount of time for gossip and panic to set in throughout Lord Ironblood’s region. Finally, the morning was a likely time for public appearances across the entire region. There was little doubt that the assassins assumed that word would spread quickly of an assassination attempt. The attempts would need to be timed accordingly so that they all had an equal chance for success. The morning hours and the rising of the sun provided a natural timetable. Of course, Allyssa couldn’t have known that her attempt was to be the only one.

This particular morning, Ischarus wrapped himself in the traditional robes that Lord Ironblood wore to make his balcony address. He gathered a few of Lord Ironblood’s coins and put them into his pockets. The coins would each amount to enough money for a family to eat for a week. Compared to the taxes that Lord Ironblood demanded for protection, however, this money was only a small portion. For the poor, the coins were a godsend. For the merchants and nobles, the coin was little more than a trifle.

He turned to the balcony and spotted Master Brandt standing in the wings. Brandt wouldn’t make an appearance, but he was waiting just in case. Ischarus smiled and nodded in the direction of the priest of Reah as the time for the appearance drew close. He breathed in deeply and prepared to step forward.

Semeion and Rhema mingled with the people in the midst of the crowd gathered below. They were dressed as palace guards and were busy searching the people. They knew that all of the people had been subjected to a search before entering the palace grounds, but Semeion and Rhema weren’t searching for weapons. Their eyes jumped from one face to the next in a search to recognize Allyssa. They knew that she would likely be disguised so that access would be more easily granted. As they meandered through the crowd, they did not see Allyssa.

It was actually Charis who spotted Allyssa. Rather than meandering through the crowd, Charis stood directly below the balcony on the top of a short set of raised stairs. Her placement made her appear to be a guard for the door that opened directly beneath the balcony. However, she really cared less about the protection of the door. Instead, she used her elevated position to search above the heads of the gathered poor people and out into the public garden beyond them. As her eyes slowly scanned the grounds, she spotted a subtle movement in the shadows of several four-foot shrubs.

Allyssa had chosen her position wisely. She knelt in the middle of a U-shaped formation of red berry shrubs. The dark green leaves that filled in the shrub formation almost completely blocked her from sight. It was only the slight movement of the tip of a bow that caught Charis’ attention. Had she not been at the right angle, it would have looked like a swaying branch in the wind.

Charis wanted to charge Allyssa immediately. She fought her instinct because she knew that at this point Allyssa could only be charged with conspiracy. If they wanted to put a significant nail in the Yrraxeans’ plan she would have to wait until her motivation was proven. She knew to wait for the assassination attempt before charging Allyssa. It was a dangerous game to play, but it was necessary.

Charis slowly made eye contact with Semeion and Rhema. Her look informed them that she had spotted their mark. She glanced in the general direction of Allyssa. Neither Semeion nor Rhema could make out the shrub formation through the crowd, but they could tell by Charis’ glance that Allyssa was not in the crowd. Both Semeion and Rhema moved to the back of the gathered poor as inconspicuously as possible. Once they were behind the people, Charis’ glance led them once more in the direction of the shrubs. They couldn’t see Allyssa, but they knew that the location made sense. It was going to be a waiting game.

Ischarus stepped up to edge of the balcony. The crowd below began to cheer, and Ischarus smiled at them. The disguise was working. As Ischarus looked down, he read the position of Semeion and Rhema accurately. The threat wasn’t going to come from up close. The fact that Semeion and Rhema stood at the back of the people meant that the attack was going to come from far off and likely on the tip of an arrow.

After making eye contact with several off the poor below the balcony, Ischarus lifted his hands in an open gesture. Lord Ironblood had informed him to wait until the very last moment before dropping the gold. The poor were already trained that if they wanted the gold they would need to listen politely to what Lord Ironblood had to say. As Ischarus’ arms drew wide open, the gathered crowd below him became silent. Their eyes fixed upon him, waiting for any sign of coin falling from above.

Ischarus began to speak with a confident tone. “People of Tongra.”

Those would be his only three words. Allyssa was no fool as well. She knew that the people would all be looking to Lord Ironblood at the beginning of the speech. The time to attack with the most potential was in the beginning of the address. A grim smile appeared on her dark lips. She heard the bowstring snap and felt the small breeze from the string sending the arrow skyward. It was a perfect shot.

Ischarus didn’t see the arrow splitting the air as it rushed towards him. For the sake of the disguise, it was fortunate that he was not aware of the arrow coming towards him. Had he seen the arrow, instinct would have forced him to dodge the incoming blow. As a result, Ischarus made no attempt to move out of the way.

The arrow stuck in Ischarus’ throat as he tried to finish the opening of the address. The blow caught him so cleanly that the air from his lungs that was supposed to form speech slipped out around the shaft of the arrow instead. The pain bit him hard, and he immediately dropped to his knees. He looked up to the sky and realized that the brilliant blue sky was quickly fading from blue to gray and then to black. He didn’t realize that he had slipped from his knees to a position of lying upon his chest. The force of the fall pushed the arrow shaft deeper through his throat and bent his head at an odd angle.

Brandt charged from where he was waiting. He knew the sign. The way Ischarus’ head snapped back was not a good sign. The green poison that dripped from the wound onto the ground was also not a good sign. He bent down and only a few moments later rose to his feet. “Guards! Our lord is dead! Find the assassin and bring her to me alive!”

Rhema knew that those words were the command to get Allyssa. But there was certain seriousness on his face that she had not expected. Something was wrong with Ischarus, and she knew it. She forced her eyes away from Brandt and toward the shrubs that Charis had indicated. As she ran, she spoke under her breath. “You had better not fail me, Reah. You had better not fail Ischarus.”

Rhema and Semeion led the charge away from the palace balcony. The attack was strategic. They had assumed that the people would begin to scatter upon the declaration that their lord had been assassinated. In the panic, the palace guards would stay to protect the palace, specifically the palace balcony and the doors below it that gave access to the staging room above. The capture of the assassin would be up to Rhema, Ischarus, and Semeion.

Rhema made the short sprint between the balcony and the shrub formation before Allyssa could fully extract herself. In truth, Rhema was surprised that Allyssa was not using teleportation magic. However, she realized that Allyssa was likely counting on the fact that the guards would not know where to find the assassin until she began to flee. Fortunately for Semeion, Rhema, and Charis this was indeed the case.

The back of Allyssa’s head popped out of the shrub formation just enough for Rhema to see it as she closed the distance between them. Rhema’s rage surged through her mind and for an instant her eyes rolled back. She forced her anger into a mental strike and pushed it in the direction of Allyssa.

Allyssa shrieked in pain, but followed the shriek with a loud growl. She spun around and faced Rhema. The look on her face confirmed what Rhema already knew. Allyssa had shrugged off the mental attack. It had no effect upon her.

Semeion was right behind Charis. He called upon the magic deep within him. “Thin Zhendahl quas Fashiir!” Allyssa saw a mischievous grin cross his lips as he opened his mouth to expel something growing deep within his chest. A burst of freezing air blew out of his lungs and shot straight through the protective shrub hedge. The pine needles upon the shrub collected a thin layer of frost as Semeion’s breath passed through them. Allyssa’s skin felt the chill of the breath beat upon her skin.

Charis was not about to be outdone in the category of magical effects. “Daancrah Egro Teos!” She was quick to follow up the magical command with a tactical assertion. “Tinko and Hubrah, prevent her retreat!” Semeion smiled when he heard the names. He knew what to expect.

Rhema also knew what to expect. Wordlessly Rhema focused once more onto Allyssa. This time, Allyssa was not subjected to one of Rhema’s stabbing mental attacks. With this new assault, Allyssa merely vanished into thin air.

Semeion and Charis both stopped in their pursuit. Neither of them was aware that Rhema had caused Allyssa to vanish. Semeion spoke first out of his confusion. “Did we just lose her? I didn’t see her do anything that could have provoked a teleportation.”

Rhema spun around on her heels with a wide grin on her face. “I sent her forward in time a few seconds. Semeion, that draconic breath you just fired needs a bit of time to recharge, right? And Charis, the servants of Bemme that you just summoned will need a bit of time to get here? I just bought us that time. Be prepared, because when she reappears she won’t know that she was sent forward.”

Semeion waited for Charis’ summoned servants to appear and moved into a position so that his magical draconic breath attack wouldn’t affect them. Rhema also moved into a new position so that she might catch Allyssa by surprise. Charis waited until her summoned friends arrived from their service at Bemme’s side. She then positioned each of the divinely inspired giant beetles so that they would block Allyssa’s retreat. Allyssa would now need to banish them or fight her way through the shrubs. Either of those options would take time.

Allyssa reappeared in a matter of seconds. Semeion was waiting for her to reappear and he unleashed another fearsome blast of cold air from within his lungs as soon as he saw Allyssa take form. More frost gathered upon the needles of the shrubs, and Allyssa’s protective armor began to crack under the sudden chill. It was trying to shrink under the sudden temperature change.

Charis directed the beetles. “Attack her, my brothers! She serves Yrraxea and is our sworn enemy!” Each of the beetles nipped at Allyssa’s ankles, but she was able to evade their less than subtle attacks. However, they had served their purpose. They had distracted Allyssa long enough.

Rhema took full advantage of Allyssa’s distraction. She launched another one of her mental assaults in Allyssa’s direction. This assault brutalized Allyssa’s mind and she crumpled to her knees. Through the use of clever tactics, Allyssa had been brought to her knees without ever allowing her to retaliate. Rhema stood and glared at Allyssa before glancing in the direction of the balcony.

Charis quickly went to work. “Thank you for you service, Tinko and Hubrah. Give my regards to Bemme when you return.” The giant beetles vanished as Charis dismissed the magic that had brought them from Bemme’s existence in the heavens to her side. Charis quickly knelt down to bind Allyssa.

Semeion approached from behind. “You had better check for any magical trinkets she might have been carrying. I wouldn’t want her suddenly teleporting out of custody because we missed a ring.”

Charis nodded at her husband’s suggestion and began removing as much jewelry as she could. There would be no harm in removing the jewelry; the prison guards at the city jail would only do the same. Charis looked up to Semeion, and only then did she notice that Semeion wasn’t really watching her. He was watching Rhema.

Rhema had waited only long enough for Charis to demonstrate that Allyssa was under her control. Once she was sure that she was no longer needed, Rhema ran towards the palace. She called out to the healer as she ran. “Brandt? How is Ischarus?” She got no reply.

Rhema was allowed access to the doorway underneath the balcony. She burst through the doors and quickly turned to the stairs. She took the stairs two at a time as she ran up them. She cursed as her eyes took in the scene. “Reah, I trusted you!”

Brandt and Ischarus were no longer present. The only evidence that they had been present on the balcony was in the process of being cleaned by the palace servants. A small puddle of green poison had been mixed in with Ischarus’ blood. Rhema watched as a servant dragged the head of a mop over the area several times. The marble soon looked as though it had never been covered in blood and poison.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
It wasn’t long into the day before Allyssa made her presence known. The first activity of Lord Ironblood’s day was his morning viewing. Each day Lord Ironblood appeared on a large porch that overlooked a public garden on the palace estate. The palace guards allowed a certain number of poor citizens access to the garden each day, and Lord Ironblood used the captive audience to spread his personal propaganda and a few coins. Of course, not all of his propaganda was false. Much of it was a means of bringing the common people to an understanding of his goals for the region of Tongra that was under his influence.

There was a healthy suspicion that this would be the event for the day that Allyssa would use for the assassination. There were a number of reasons that this timetable was believed. First, this was the largest public event on the lord’s schedule, so if Allyssa was looking for an event to spread the most amount of public panic this would be the natural choice. Second, an assassination in the morning would provide the maximum amount of time for gossip and panic to set in throughout Lord Ironblood’s region. Finally, the morning was a likely time for public appearances across the entire region. There was little doubt that the assassins assumed that word would spread quickly of an assassination attempt. The attempts would need to be timed accordingly so that they all had an equal chance for success. The morning hours and the rising of the sun provided a natural timetable. Of course, Allyssa couldn’t have known that her attempt was to be the only one.

This particular morning, Ischarus wrapped himself in the traditional robes that Lord Ironblood wore to make his balcony address. He gathered a few of Lord Ironblood’s coins and put them into his pockets. The coins would each amount to enough money for a family to eat for a week. Compared to the taxes that Lord Ironblood demanded for protection, however, this money was only a small portion. For the poor, the coins were a godsend. For the merchants and nobles, the coin was little more than a trifle.

He turned to the balcony and spotted Master Brandt standing in the wings. Brandt wouldn’t make an appearance, but he was waiting just in case. Ischarus smiled and nodded in the direction of the priest of Reah as the time for the appearance drew close. He breathed in deeply and prepared to step forward.

Semeion and Rhema mingled with the people in the midst of the crowd gathered below. They were dressed as palace guards and were busy searching the people. They knew that all of the people had been subjected to a search before entering the palace grounds, but Semeion and Rhema weren’t searching for weapons. Their eyes jumped from one face to the next in a search to recognize Allyssa. They knew that she would likely be disguised so that access would be more easily granted. As they meandered through the crowd, they did not see Allyssa.

It was actually Charis who spotted Allyssa. Rather than meandering through the crowd, Charis stood directly below the balcony on the top of a short set of raised stairs. Her placement made her appear to be a guard for the door that opened directly beneath the balcony. However, she really cared less about the protection of the door. Instead, she used her elevated position to search above the heads of the gathered poor people and out into the public garden beyond them. As her eyes slowly scanned the grounds, she spotted a subtle movement in the shadows of several four-foot shrubs.

Allyssa had chosen her position wisely. She knelt in the middle of a U-shaped formation of red berry shrubs. The dark green leaves that filled in the shrub formation almost completely blocked her from sight. It was only the slight movement of the tip of a bow that caught Charis’ attention. Had she not been at the right angle, it would have looked like a swaying branch in the wind.

Charis wanted to charge Allyssa immediately. She fought her instinct because she knew that at this point Allyssa could only be charged with conspiracy. If they wanted to put a significant nail in the Yrraxeans’ plan she would have to wait until her motivation was proven. She knew to wait for the assassination attempt before charging Allyssa. It was a dangerous game to play, but it was necessary.

Charis slowly made eye contact with Semeion and Rhema. Her look informed them that she had spotted their mark. She glanced in the general direction of Allyssa. Neither Semeion nor Rhema could make out the shrub formation through the crowd, but they could tell by Charis’ glance that Allyssa was not in the crowd. Both Semeion and Rhema moved to the back of the gathered poor as inconspicuously as possible. Once they were behind the people, Charis’ glance led them once more in the direction of the shrubs. They couldn’t see Allyssa, but they knew that the location made sense. It was going to be a waiting game.

Ischarus stepped up to edge of the balcony. The crowd below began to cheer, and Ischarus smiled at them. The disguise was working. As Ischarus looked down, he read the position of Semeion and Rhema accurately. The threat wasn’t going to come from up close. The fact that Semeion and Rhema stood at the back of the people meant that the attack was going to come from far off and likely on the tip of an arrow.

After making eye contact with several off the poor below the balcony, Ischarus lifted his hands in an open gesture. Lord Ironblood had informed him to wait until the very last moment before dropping the gold. The poor were already trained that if they wanted the gold they would need to listen politely to what Lord Ironblood had to say. As Ischarus’ arms drew wide open, the gathered crowd below him became silent. Their eyes fixed upon him, waiting for any sign of coin falling from above.

Ischarus began to speak with a confident tone. “People of Tongra.”

Those would be his only three words. Allyssa was no fool as well. She knew that the people would all be looking to Lord Ironblood at the beginning of the speech. The time to attack with the most potential was in the beginning of the address. A grim smile appeared on her dark lips. She heard the bowstring snap and felt the small breeze from the string sending the arrow skyward. It was a perfect shot.

Ischarus didn’t see the arrow splitting the air as it rushed towards him. For the sake of the disguise, it was fortunate that he was not aware of the arrow coming towards him. Had he seen the arrow, instinct would have forced him to dodge the incoming blow. As a result, Ischarus made no attempt to move out of the way.

The arrow stuck in Ischarus’ throat as he tried to finish the opening of the address. The blow caught him so cleanly that the air from his lungs that was supposed to form speech slipped out around the shaft of the arrow instead. The pain bit him hard, and he immediately dropped to his knees. He looked up to the sky and realized that the brilliant blue sky was quickly fading from blue to gray and then to black. He didn’t realize that he had slipped from his knees to a position of lying upon his chest. The force of the fall pushed the arrow shaft deeper through his throat and bent his head at an odd angle.

Brandt charged from where he was waiting. He knew the sign. The way Ischarus’ head snapped back was not a good sign. The green poison that dripped from the wound onto the ground was also not a good sign. He bent down and only a few moments later rose to his feet. “Guards! Our lord is dead! Find the assassin and bring her to me alive!”

Rhema knew that those words were the command to get Allyssa. But there was certain seriousness on his face that she had not expected. Something was wrong with Ischarus, and she knew it. She forced her eyes away from Brandt and toward the shrubs that Charis had indicated. As she ran, she spoke under her breath. “You had better not fail me, Reah. You had better not fail Ischarus.”

Rhema and Semeion led the charge away from the palace balcony. The attack was strategic. They had assumed that the people would begin to scatter upon the declaration that their lord had been assassinated. In the panic, the palace guards would stay to protect the palace, specifically the palace balcony and the doors below it that gave access to the staging room above. The capture of the assassin would be up to Rhema, Ischarus, and Semeion.

Rhema made the short sprint between the balcony and the shrub formation before Allyssa could fully extract herself. In truth, Rhema was surprised that Allyssa was not using teleportation magic. However, she realized that Allyssa was likely counting on the fact that the guards would not know where to find the assassin until she began to flee. Fortunately for Semeion, Rhema, and Charis this was indeed the case.

The back of Allyssa’s head popped out of the shrub formation just enough for Rhema to see it as she closed the distance between them. Rhema’s rage surged through her mind and for an instant her eyes rolled back. She forced her anger into a mental strike and pushed it in the direction of Allyssa.

Allyssa shrieked in pain, but followed the shriek with a loud growl. She spun around and faced Rhema. The look on her face confirmed what Rhema already knew. Allyssa had shrugged off the mental attack. It had no effect upon her.

Semeion was right behind Charis. He called upon the magic deep within him. “Thin Zhendahl quas Fashiir!” Allyssa saw a mischievous grin cross his lips as he opened his mouth to expel something growing deep within his chest. A burst of freezing air blew out of his lungs and shot straight through the protective shrub hedge. The pine needles upon the shrub collected a thin layer of frost as Semeion’s breath passed through them. Allyssa’s skin felt the chill of the breath beat upon her skin.

Charis was not about to be outdone in the category of magical effects. “Daancrah Egro Teos!” She was quick to follow up the magical command with a tactical assertion. “Tinko and Hubrah, prevent her retreat!” Semeion smiled when he heard the names. He knew what to expect.

Rhema also knew what to expect. Wordlessly Rhema focused once more onto Allyssa. This time, Allyssa was not subjected to one of Rhema’s stabbing mental attacks. With this new assault, Allyssa merely vanished into thin air.

Semeion and Charis both stopped in their pursuit. Neither of them was aware that Rhema had caused Allyssa to vanish. Semeion spoke first out of his confusion. “Did we just lose her? I didn’t see her do anything that could have provoked a teleportation.”

Rhema spun around on her heels with a wide grin on her face. “I sent her forward in time a few seconds. Semeion, that draconic breath you just fired needs a bit of time to recharge, right? And Charis, the servants of Bemme that you just summoned will need a bit of time to get here? I just bought us that time. Be prepared, because when she reappears she won’t know that she was sent forward.”

Semeion waited for Charis’ summoned servants to appear and moved into a position so that his magical draconic breath attack wouldn’t affect them. Rhema also moved into a new position so that she might catch Allyssa by surprise. Charis waited until her summoned friends arrived from their service at Bemme’s side. She then positioned each of the divinely inspired giant beetles so that they would block Allyssa’s retreat. Allyssa would now need to banish them or fight her way through the shrubs. Either of those options would take time.

Allyssa reappeared in a matter of seconds. Semeion was waiting for her to reappear and he unleashed another fearsome blast of cold air from within his lungs as soon as he saw Allyssa take form. More frost gathered upon the needles of the shrubs, and Allyssa’s protective armor began to crack under the sudden chill. It was trying to shrink under the sudden temperature change.

Charis directed the beetles. “Attack her, my brothers! She serves Yrraxea and is our sworn enemy!” Each of the beetles nipped at Allyssa’s ankles, but she was able to evade their less than subtle attacks. However, they had served their purpose. They had distracted Allyssa long enough.

Rhema took full advantage of Allyssa’s distraction. She launched another one of her mental assaults in Allyssa’s direction. This assault brutalized Allyssa’s mind and she crumpled to her knees. Through the use of clever tactics, Allyssa had been brought to her knees without ever allowing her to retaliate. Rhema stood and glared at Allyssa before glancing in the direction of the balcony.

Charis quickly went to work. “Thank you for you service, Tinko and Hubrah. Give my regards to Bemme when you return.” The giant beetles vanished as Charis dismissed the magic that had brought them from Bemme’s existence in the heavens to her side. Charis quickly knelt down to bind Allyssa.

Semeion approached from behind. “You had better check for any magical trinkets she might have been carrying. I wouldn’t want her suddenly teleporting out of custody because we missed a ring.”

Charis nodded at her husband’s suggestion and began removing as much jewelry as she could. There would be no harm in removing the jewelry; the prison guards at the city jail would only do the same. Charis looked up to Semeion, and only then did she notice that Semeion wasn’t really watching her. He was watching Rhema.

Rhema had waited only long enough for Charis to demonstrate that Allyssa was under her control. Once she was sure that she was no longer needed, Rhema ran towards the palace. She called out to the healer as she ran. “Brandt? How is Ischarus?” She got no reply.

Rhema was allowed access to the doorway underneath the balcony. She burst through the doors and quickly turned to the stairs. She took the stairs two at a time as she ran up them. She cursed as her eyes took in the scene. “Reah, I trusted you!”

Brandt and Ischarus were no longer present. The only evidence that they had been present on the balcony was in the process of being cleaned by the palace servants. A small puddle of green poison had been mixed in with Ischarus’ blood. Rhema watched as a servant dragged the head of a mop over the area several times. The marble soon looked as though it had never been covered in blood and poison.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Semeion and Charis managed to bring Allyssa back to consciousness and get her to her feet. Allyssa struggled against the captivity, but despite her struggles she soon was positioned underneath the balcony. As they moved, Allyssa hurled nasty insults towards Semeion and Charis regarding the idiocy of Lord Ironblood’s guard. Neither Semeion nor Charis were impressed.

The guard who had shared a post with Charis smiled as they approached the staircase underneath the balcony. “It sounds to me like you have a nasty one there. Tell me, is there bite to her bark or have her fangs been filed off already?”

Allyssa didn’t wait to give a response even though she knew the question wasn’t directed at her. “You had better hope that I don’t get loose, for I’ll be happy to show you how sharp my fangs are. I’ll disembowel you while you’re still alive to see it. Then you’ll know how sharp my fangs are!” The palace guard delivered a backhanded slap to Allyssa’s mouth, spraying blood as Allyssa’s head jerked towards Charis from the assault.

Charis wiped some of the blood spatter away from her own face and gave the guard a disapproving glare. “There’s no need to beat a bound prisoner, sir. You can’t expect that she’ll actually be able to fight back; and you can’t expect that she’ll take kindly to insults, either. Besides, her words are nothing more than the dung spread from her dark religion.”

Allyssa laughed. “Dung? You will see what dung I spread, you Bemme and Reah loving princess! If you think that you can keep me in this bondage, you have another thing coming! You will see just how powerful my faith is. Yrraxea will not leave me here alone.”

Semeion smiled at the comment. “I do believe that the city jail has a few cells within it that prohibits magic from working. In fact, we have experience with them! Once you go into that prison, you aren’t coming out.”

Allyssa grinned and spoke slowly. “Heed my warning, mage. Yrraxea will come to my aid. Even in Tongra, Yrraxea will come.”

Charis didn’t like her tone, and Allyssa’s facial expression weren’t growing on Charis either. “I thought that was the point of stopping you? Oh, and just so we can set the record straight I should also add something very important. We’ve already stopped the other assassins. We captured and detained them a few days ago.”

Allyssa looked shocked for a moment before allowing a calm look to spread over her face. “It is no matter. You stole Opheiluka from the service of the Queen of Avarice. I replaced her. I have no doubt that other replacements have been found already. In fact, the assassination attempts will likely already be accomplished!”

Charis felt better after hearing Allyssa’s words. It didn’t sound like she really knew just what the party had been able to accomplish with Brandt and Master Searthu. “Oh? I imagine that Ankh-Bahl will have trouble finding recruits from the pit that we banished her into. By the time she is able to climb out of wherever she came from in the first place, you’ll be old and gray.”

Semeion quickly followed up on Charis’ explanation. “What you don’t know is that the wizard in Eberdeen who had been working for the service of Yrraxea has been dismissed. The evil succubus dwelling inside of him has also been dismissed. With your capture, all the assassins have been caught. With the wizard and his master destroyed, that doesn’t leave much left of your plan, does it?”

Allyssa didn’t let the words have any effect upon her. Since her earlier lapse, her face had become as if it were made of stone. “Does it matter? I serve the Queen of Avarice. All things will eventually be hers; there is nothing you can do to stop her advance. And I still doubt that you can hold me, much less stop my Queen.”

Semeion shook his head at Allyssa’s overstretched confidence. “We shall see.”

Allyssa allowed the grin to return to her face. “Indeed.”

Charis wasn’t about to let Allyssa’s dark confidence overshadow the victory that they had just accomplished. “Indeed.” She turned to the palace guard. “I assume that you have a detention center on the premises until she can be housed in until arrangements can be made with Warden Farette? I’m talking preferably about a jail with magical defenses?”

The palace guard nodded in the affirmative. “We have both, ma’am. We’ll take her from here.”

Allyssa remained oddly quiet through this stretch of the conversation. Her eyes still followed the flow of the conversation, but she didn’t interrupt the communication any longer. Charis noticed a slight curling of Allyssa’s lips. She was approving of the conversation.

Charis nodded slowly. “Very good. But be careful. She seems confident, much too confident.”

The guard smiled politely. “We can handle her, ma’am. She’s already bound, and we’ll likely just keep her bound until the city jailors arrive. There’s really nothing to fear.”

Semeion pursed his lips and offered one more suggestion. “Keep from beating her, too. She’s all but defenseless and beaten already. There is no sense making a cornered dog even angrier.”

The guard nodded and the door opened behind him. The opening of the door startled him, and he spun around in a defensive posture. He was met by Rhema coming through the other side, and she was as startled to see him as he was to see her.

Rhema laughed once the initial start had passed through her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you all would be this close to the door.” She looked to Allyssa and then to Charis and Semeion. “Are you all about ready to get back to the temple? Brandt and Ischarus are gone, and if you don’t mind I’d like to get there.”

Allyssa grinned as she heard the concern in Rhema’s voice. “Oh, don’t worry. The poison on the arrow has likely killed him already.” She had already begun to understand that her assassination attempt here had been foiled by an intricate deception.

Rhema bristled at the thought, and Charis was quick to divert her concentration. She spoke to the guard to bring the conversation back under control. “If you can take her from here, we’ll be on our way.”

The guard nodded and took control of the bonds that had her tied in the back. He pushed her in the back to get her to climb the steps in front of her. When they had passed through the door, Rhema closed it from the outside. As the door clicked shut, she turned back to her friends.

Rhema was clearly unsettled by Allyssa’s assertion. “Shall we? I know Brandt is a great healer and we were expecting poison. But I’ll just feel better once we get there.”

Charis and Semeion both flanked Rhema and embraced her. Charis decided that she would risk speaking out of her faith. “Ischarus is fine, remember? You left him in Reah’s care.”

Rhema breathed in deeply and began to walk down the steps. Semeion and Charis remained at her side and kept the pace that Rhema set. It wouldn’t take them too long to get from the palace to the center of town where the temple sat.

When they reached the edge of the palace garden, the guard at the gate smiled and let them through. “I understand that the lord’s life was saved today. Thank you all.”

Rhema smiled half-heartedly. She hoped that the sacrifice hadn’t been too much. However, it was Semeion who answered. “A life was saved, but the greatest implication has yet to be announced. Fingerdale is safe today, and with any luck the lack of news on this day will be the only thank-you that we need.”

They passed through the gate and walked about ten feet before the guard called to them again. “Sir! Madams!”

The trio slowly turned back around to face the guard at the gate. He gestured backwards and pointed toward the palace. A guard was running to meet up with what was currently left of the party. Semeion motioned for Rhema and Charis to stay where they were.

Semeion walked back to the gate and gripped the iron bars that now kept him out. When the guard who was running towards them approached the gate, he slowed and took a moment to catch his breath. “Sir, There’s been an incident.”

Semeion was displeased. They had just taken care of the last of Yrraxea’s threats and he wanted to enjoy to peace that came from that knowledge. “What kind of incident?”

The guard looked straight towards Semeion and spoke hurriedly. “The captive tried to escape her bonds and was successful for a short amount of time. She managed to steal one of the guard’s blades and a quick battle ensued. One of our guards is dead, but the captive was killed as well. I thought you should know.”

Semeion cursed slightly. They had wanted Allyssa alive for purposes of interrogation. He turned to Charis. “Why don’t you take Rhema back to the temple? She deserves to go to her husband after all the stress of today. If Allyssa is dead, there’s no threat to me here anymore. I’ll stay, investigate, and then meet up with you both back at the temple.”

Charis nodded and directed Rhema to come with her. Rhema readily accepted, happy to head towards the temple. Charis turned around once more to see the guard closing the iron door that only moments ago had kept Semeion apart from the guards. She turned back towards the direction she was walking as the door clicked back into its place of security.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion and Charis managed to bring Allyssa back to consciousness and get her to her feet. Allyssa struggled against the captivity, but despite her struggles she soon was positioned underneath the balcony. As they moved, Allyssa hurled nasty insults towards Semeion and Charis regarding the idiocy of Lord Ironblood’s guard. Neither Semeion nor Charis were impressed.

The guard who had shared a post with Charis smiled as they approached the staircase underneath the balcony. “It sounds to me like you have a nasty one there. Tell me, is there bite to her bark or have her fangs been filed off already?”

Allyssa didn’t wait to give a response even though she knew the question wasn’t directed at her. “You had better hope that I don’t get loose, for I’ll be happy to show you how sharp my fangs are. I’ll disembowel you while you’re still alive to see it. Then you’ll know how sharp my fangs are!” The palace guard delivered a backhanded slap to Allyssa’s mouth, spraying blood as Allyssa’s head jerked towards Charis from the assault.

Charis wiped some of the blood spatter away from her own face and gave the guard a disapproving glare. “There’s no need to beat a bound prisoner, sir. You can’t expect that she’ll actually be able to fight back; and you can’t expect that she’ll take kindly to insults, either. Besides, her words are nothing more than the dung spread from her dark religion.”

Allyssa laughed. “Dung? You will see what dung I spread, you Bemme and Reah loving princess! If you think that you can keep me in this bondage, you have another thing coming! You will see just how powerful my faith is. Yrraxea will not leave me here alone.”

Semeion smiled at the comment. “I do believe that the city jail has a few cells within it that prohibits magic from working. In fact, we have experience with them! Once you go into that prison, you aren’t coming out.”

Allyssa grinned and spoke slowly. “Heed my warning, mage. Yrraxea will come to my aid. Even in Tongra, Yrraxea will come.”

Charis didn’t like her tone, and Allyssa’s facial expression weren’t growing on Charis either. “I thought that was the point of stopping you? Oh, and just so we can set the record straight I should also add something very important. We’ve already stopped the other assassins. We captured and detained them a few days ago.”

Allyssa looked shocked for a moment before allowing a calm look to spread over her face. “It is no matter. You stole Opheiluka from the service of the Queen of Avarice. I replaced her. I have no doubt that other replacements have been found already. In fact, the assassination attempts will likely already be accomplished!”

Charis felt better after hearing Allyssa’s words. It didn’t sound like she really knew just what the party had been able to accomplish with Brandt and Master Searthu. “Oh? I imagine that Ankh-Bahl will have trouble finding recruits from the pit that we banished her into. By the time she is able to climb out of wherever she came from in the first place, you’ll be old and gray.”

Semeion quickly followed up on Charis’ explanation. “What you don’t know is that the wizard in Eberdeen who had been working for the service of Yrraxea has been dismissed. The evil succubus dwelling inside of him has also been dismissed. With your capture, all the assassins have been caught. With the wizard and his master destroyed, that doesn’t leave much left of your plan, does it?”

Allyssa didn’t let the words have any effect upon her. Since her earlier lapse, her face had become as if it were made of stone. “Does it matter? I serve the Queen of Avarice. All things will eventually be hers; there is nothing you can do to stop her advance. And I still doubt that you can hold me, much less stop my Queen.”

Semeion shook his head at Allyssa’s overstretched confidence. “We shall see.”

Allyssa allowed the grin to return to her face. “Indeed.”

Charis wasn’t about to let Allyssa’s dark confidence overshadow the victory that they had just accomplished. “Indeed.” She turned to the palace guard. “I assume that you have a detention center on the premises until she can be housed in until arrangements can be made with Warden Farette? I’m talking preferably about a jail with magical defenses?”

The palace guard nodded in the affirmative. “We have both, ma’am. We’ll take her from here.”

Allyssa remained oddly quiet through this stretch of the conversation. Her eyes still followed the flow of the conversation, but she didn’t interrupt the communication any longer. Charis noticed a slight curling of Allyssa’s lips. She was approving of the conversation.

Charis nodded slowly. “Very good. But be careful. She seems confident, much too confident.”

The guard smiled politely. “We can handle her, ma’am. She’s already bound, and we’ll likely just keep her bound until the city jailors arrive. There’s really nothing to fear.”

Semeion pursed his lips and offered one more suggestion. “Keep from beating her, too. She’s all but defenseless and beaten already. There is no sense making a cornered dog even angrier.”

The guard nodded and the door opened behind him. The opening of the door startled him, and he spun around in a defensive posture. He was met by Rhema coming through the other side, and she was as startled to see him as he was to see her.

Rhema laughed once the initial start had passed through her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you all would be this close to the door.” She looked to Allyssa and then to Charis and Semeion. “Are you all about ready to get back to the temple? Brandt and Ischarus are gone, and if you don’t mind I’d like to get there.”

Allyssa grinned as she heard the concern in Rhema’s voice. “Oh, don’t worry. The poison on the arrow has likely killed him already.” She had already begun to understand that her assassination attempt here had been foiled by an intricate deception.

Rhema bristled at the thought, and Charis was quick to divert her concentration. She spoke to the guard to bring the conversation back under control. “If you can take her from here, we’ll be on our way.”

The guard nodded and took control of the bonds that had her tied in the back. He pushed her in the back to get her to climb the steps in front of her. When they had passed through the door, Rhema closed it from the outside. As the door clicked shut, she turned back to her friends.

Rhema was clearly unsettled by Allyssa’s assertion. “Shall we? I know Brandt is a great healer and we were expecting poison. But I’ll just feel better once we get there.”

Charis and Semeion both flanked Rhema and embraced her. Charis decided that she would risk speaking out of her faith. “Ischarus is fine, remember? You left him in Reah’s care.”

Rhema breathed in deeply and began to walk down the steps. Semeion and Charis remained at her side and kept the pace that Rhema set. It wouldn’t take them too long to get from the palace to the center of town where the temple sat.

When they reached the edge of the palace garden, the guard at the gate smiled and let them through. “I understand that the lord’s life was saved today. Thank you all.”

Rhema smiled half-heartedly. She hoped that the sacrifice hadn’t been too much. However, it was Semeion who answered. “A life was saved, but the greatest implication has yet to be announced. Fingerdale is safe today, and with any luck the lack of news on this day will be the only thank-you that we need.”

They passed through the gate and walked about ten feet before the guard called to them again. “Sir! Madams!”

The trio slowly turned back around to face the guard at the gate. He gestured backwards and pointed toward the palace. A guard was running to meet up with what was currently left of the party. Semeion motioned for Rhema and Charis to stay where they were.

Semeion walked back to the gate and gripped the iron bars that now kept him out. When the guard who was running towards them approached the gate, he slowed and took a moment to catch his breath. “Sir, There’s been an incident.”

Semeion was displeased. They had just taken care of the last of Yrraxea’s threats and he wanted to enjoy to peace that came from that knowledge. “What kind of incident?”

The guard looked straight towards Semeion and spoke hurriedly. “The captive tried to escape her bonds and was successful for a short amount of time. She managed to steal one of the guard’s blades and a quick battle ensued. One of our guards is dead, but the captive was killed as well. I thought you should know.”

Semeion cursed slightly. They had wanted Allyssa alive for purposes of interrogation. He turned to Charis. “Why don’t you take Rhema back to the temple? She deserves to go to her husband after all the stress of today. If Allyssa is dead, there’s no threat to me here anymore. I’ll stay, investigate, and then meet up with you both back at the temple.”

Charis nodded and directed Rhema to come with her. Rhema readily accepted, happy to head towards the temple. Charis turned around once more to see the guard closing the iron door that only moments ago had kept Semeion apart from the guards. She turned back towards the direction she was walking as the door clicked back into its place of security.

[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Semeion jogged with the palace guard back to the doorway below the porch. They quickly entered the palace and briskly walked down the hallway to where the battle had taken place. Blood smeared the walls and floor, but there was no other evidence of the struggle. The hallway had been cleared of people.

The guard turned to Semeion and spoke. He was explaining the obvious lack of people in an attempt to assume Semeion’s question. “Those who were injured in the battle were taken to the infirmary. Allyssa was no doubt taken to a storeroom where her body could rest until the gravediggers could prepare a proper grave. No special grave, mind you. But even criminals deserve a proper burial.”

Semeion smiled. “No doubt. What else would we do with a body? Can you find out where Allyssa was taken for certain? I’d like to examine her body.”

The guard nodded. “Well, we’ll head down to the infirmary anyway, then. It’s my guess that those who were taken there will know where we should look.”

Semeion followed the guard down the hall until the came across an intersection. The pair turned right into the more narrow side hallway. After passing several doorways, the guard motioned for Semeion to enter into a doorway to the right. As Semeion opened the door, the smell of alcohol and herbal rubs assaulted his nose.

The guard entered and breathed in deeply. “I’ve always loved the smell of mint, menthol, and cleansing alcohol rubs. It cleans the nose and makes it easier to breathe.”

Semeion nodded, but internally he didn’t agree. Surely he’d take the infirmary over that of a dank and musty cellar, but he much preferred the smell of a library filled with old books, parchment, and vellum. A slight smile passed over his face as he imagined his old master’s study where he first became acquainted with his favorite smell.

The guard turned to the physician on duty. He was busy preparing a bandage for one of the wounded guards. “Excuse me, but can you tell me where the body of the assassin ended up? This man here wants to inspect the body.”

The physician didn’t look up from the bandage that he was preparing. “She’s in the storeroom at the end of the hall. She’s furthest out of the way there and nearest to the back entrance for pick-up.”

Semeion addressed the physician, breathing as shallowly as possible. “And the guard that she killed? Will we find him there as well?”

This time, the physician did look up. He must not have recognized Semeion’s voice. Once he looked upon Semeion and knew the face of the man that he was addressing, the physician finished folding the bandage. He answered Semeion’s question as he approached one of the wounded guards. “No, sir. We kept the guard here in the cold room. His body will be preserved and buried honorably.”

Semeion nodded and turned to the guard. “Well, then I suggest we start with the woman before she smells too much of death.”

The physician motioned for the patient to hold onto the bandage and then he stood up. He crossed over to his bench and rifled his fingers through the contents of a glass jar. He removed two small cloth pouches that were about one inch square. “Depending on how long you all are planning on being in there, these pouches might help. Hold them under your nose and it’ll help keep your nose from noticing the smell of death.”

The guard took the pouches from the physician, but it was Semeion who spoke. “Thank you, but I doubt that we’ll be that long.”

Semeion and the guard turned and left the physician’s workroom. Semeion appreciated the lessoning of the alcohol and herbal smells once they arrived in the hallway. The guard turned him in the proper direction and they marched down the hall to the store room. The guard slipped his hand into the heavy metal handle and pulled it straight out from the wall. Once the lock was released, the guard lifted the handle up towards the ceiling. “They probably put her up near the front. The grave boys will be by before too long. They won’t want the smell infecting the rest of the stuff stored here in the room.”

Semeion walked in and spotted a red stained sheet. The light yellow hue of the sheet spoke of its faded and well used nature. Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows and stopped in the middle of the doorway as he looked to the sheet. It wasn’t laying right. “It’s too flat.”

The guard wasn’t ready for him to stop in the doorway, and he nearly ran into him. “What?”

Semeion shook his head. “The sheet, or rather, the body. There isn’t enough room there to have a body underneath it.”

Semeion slowly approached the sheet and rested his hand upon it. Sure enough, Semeion’s hand compressed the sheet until he felt the small stack of boxes upon which she had been laid. “She’s gone. The body is gone!”

The guard popped his head into the room and double checked Semeion’s claim. “Someone took the body?”

Semeion smiled as he looked back to the guard. “Perhaps.” He enjoyed any attempt to use his magic. “Thizzle Sooth.”

Semeion began to look at the world with a newer understanding. The area just above and below the sheet appeared to glow as Semeion studied the sheet. There were two distinct auras that his eyes were picking up.

Semeion talked his way through his observation. “Two distinct magical spells have been cast here. One of the spells was clearly stronger than the other. From the auras left behind, I can see that one of them was quite a powerful aura. In fact,” Semeion’s voice paused as his mind considered the information that his eyes were seeing. “One of them is teleportation magic, I’m sure of it. I need to get back to the temple and talk to Brandt.”

The guard stopped Semeion. “Now, wait a minute. What do I say to my superiors?”

Semeion looked over the guard’s shoulder, wishing that he was already walking down the hall. “Tell them exactly what happened. Tell them that the body has been magically removed. And tell them that if they need a person to collaborate your story that they can find me at the Temple of Reah. Tell them to ask for Master Brandt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and speak to that same man about what I saw here.”

The guard heard the urgency in Semeion’s words. “Very well. You’ll be at the Temple of Reah? Is Brandt the man that was here this morning?”

Semeion nodded and brushed past the guard, who allowed him to pass. Before long, Semeion had exited Lord Ironblood’s palace estate. He knew the way back to the temple and took no time in returning. When he had climbed the steps to the temple and opened the door, he nodded politely to the acolyte that moved to greet him. “I know the way to Master Brandt’s office, thank you.”

Semeion hurried down the hallway, knowing that the information he possessed needed to be sorted through. He knocked solidly upon the door and waited for Brandt to open it. To his surprise, it was actually Ischarus who opened the door.

Semeion glanced at the scar left on his neck from Allyssa’s attack. “Ischarus! Good to see that the arrow didn’t do you in!” He embraced his friend in as strong of a hug as he could muster.

Ischarus returned the hug and explained what had happened to him. “Reah was with me the whole time, and Brandt made sure that I was in good care. He saw the evidence of the poison immediately, and he used the magic that Reah had given to him to counteract the poison. Brandt knew that I was still very wounded, so he teleported me here to the care of the healers. They fixed me up before the wound could get any worse, although they say I might always bear a scar to remind me of the attack.”

Rhema slid around the door and slipped her arm inside of Ischarus’ elbow. “Reah was with him, and all of us. And I’ve been kidding him for a while know that he’d look good in a beard. Maybe now he’ll grow one and cover over any scar that’s left.”

Semeion smiled and stepped into Brandt’s office. Charis looked up to him and returned his smile. “Well? Is she dead?”

Semeion shook his head. “No, I think that she’s quite alive. Not only that, but she’s gone completely.”

Ischarus turned sharply to look at Semeion. “What? After all that we went through?”

Brandt smacked the top of his desk with his clenched fist. “Of course! The bumbling fools. They forgot to look for magic. I was bothered by the fact that Allyssa didn’t seem concerned that we were getting too close. I was even concerned that the assassination attempt was actually happening when she knew that we were onto her. With all of those Yrraxean priests around, she had to have magical protection guarding her. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had some sort of spell that was designed to revive her and teleport her away should she be killed.”

Charis turned and looked to Brandt. “Revive her? You mean, of course, to resurrect her?”

Brandt nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. She likely had a contingent spell to resurrect her and transport her away.”

Semeion looked confused. “Resurrection? Why would a god or goddess allow that to happen? I mean, if a follower of Reah dies, then they go to Reah and leave this world behind them. Why would they want to come back here? And why would Yrraxea give up her hold on a person once they have died and gone to the pit of her dark realm?”

Brandt nodded, and noticed that Rhema was paying particularly close attention. He also noticed that Ophee was listening hard for his reply as well. “You’re right, Semeion. Resurrections never happen with true followers of good gods and goddesses. Once you’ve passed on to paradise, what could convince you to come back? But the evil gods and goddesses enable the power to exist within the world as a bargaining chip. The gods and goddesses of evil are willing to make bargains in trade for worship. They allow loved ones to return under the exchange that when both the loved one and the one who bargained for their return die again the god or goddess retains possession of both. You can see why they would be interested in the release of their own dead. If releasing one dead now assures the return of two worshippers in the future, it really is just a matter of economics.”

Charis was still slightly confused by the explanation. “If that’s true, then why doesn’t Reah give that kind of deal? Think about all the loyal followers who might come to Reah under the agreement of having a loved one back?”

Brandt nodded and smiled. “I’ve often thought like that. It makes sense to us from our current position. But think about it from the perspective of the dead. What kind of act pulls someone away from absolute paradise and perfection only to return to this life? It is an act of selfishness on behalf of those of us who are still alive. We want the loved one back for our sake. If we were truly concerned about what is best for the loved one, we’d know that we want them to stay in paradise with their god or goddess. When I die, I want to stay with Reah and await the companionship of my loved ones from there.”

Rhema frowned, but secretly understood the expression. So long as people were following the paths of the good gods and goddesses, resurrection was a truly selfish act. She decided it was time to change the conversation. “So what of Allyssa? Someone bargained away their own life so that she could live again. Why would they want her alive, especially since she botched the assassination?”

A pale look formed over Ischarus’ face. “What if we have the wrong assassination? If they went to the extreme of putting a spell upon the assassin in case she died, could they have also put a spell on her that would immediately take them to another place where one of the assassinations failed?”

Brandt and Semeion both nodded, but Brandt was the one who spoke. “It’s certainly possible.”

Semeion followed up Brandt’s confirmation. “But which one? Thanks to us, they all failed!”

The party was surprised that it was Ophee who figured it out first. “King Rupert. That is the most important one.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion jogged with the palace guard back to the doorway below the porch. They quickly entered the palace and briskly walked down the hallway to where the battle had taken place. Blood smeared the walls and floor, but there was no other evidence of the struggle. The hallway had been cleared of people.

The guard turned to Semeion and spoke. He was explaining the obvious lack of people in an attempt to assume Semeion’s question. “Those who were injured in the battle were taken to the infirmary. Allyssa was no doubt taken to a storeroom where her body could rest until the gravediggers could prepare a proper grave. No special grave, mind you. But even criminals deserve a proper burial.”

Semeion smiled. “No doubt. What else would we do with a body? Can you find out where Allyssa was taken for certain? I’d like to examine her body.”

The guard nodded. “Well, we’ll head down to the infirmary anyway, then. It’s my guess that those who were taken there will know where we should look.”

Semeion followed the guard down the hall until the came across an intersection. The pair turned right into the more narrow side hallway. After passing several doorways, the guard motioned for Semeion to enter into a doorway to the right. As Semeion opened the door, the smell of alcohol and herbal rubs assaulted his nose.

The guard entered and breathed in deeply. “I’ve always loved the smell of mint, menthol, and cleansing alcohol rubs. It cleans the nose and makes it easier to breathe.”

Semeion nodded, but internally he didn’t agree. Surely he’d take the infirmary over that of a dank and musty cellar, but he much preferred the smell of a library filled with old books, parchment, and vellum. A slight smile passed over his face as he imagined his old master’s study where he first became acquainted with his favorite smell.

The guard turned to the physician on duty. He was busy preparing a bandage for one of the wounded guards. “Excuse me, but can you tell me where the body of the assassin ended up? This man here wants to inspect the body.”

The physician didn’t look up from the bandage that he was preparing. “She’s in the storeroom at the end of the hall. She’s furthest out of the way there and nearest to the back entrance for pick-up.”

Semeion addressed the physician, breathing as shallowly as possible. “And the guard that she killed? Will we find him there as well?”

This time, the physician did look up. He must not have recognized Semeion’s voice. Once he looked upon Semeion and knew the face of the man that he was addressing, the physician finished folding the bandage. He answered Semeion’s question as he approached one of the wounded guards. “No, sir. We kept the guard here in the cold room. His body will be preserved and buried honorably.”

Semeion nodded and turned to the guard. “Well, then I suggest we start with the woman before she smells too much of death.”

The physician motioned for the patient to hold onto the bandage and then he stood up. He crossed over to his bench and rifled his fingers through the contents of a glass jar. He removed two small cloth pouches that were about one inch square. “Depending on how long you all are planning on being in there, these pouches might help. Hold them under your nose and it’ll help keep your nose from noticing the smell of death.”

The guard took the pouches from the physician, but it was Semeion who spoke. “Thank you, but I doubt that we’ll be that long.”

Semeion and the guard turned and left the physician’s workroom. Semeion appreciated the lessoning of the alcohol and herbal smells once they arrived in the hallway. The guard turned him in the proper direction and they marched down the hall to the store room. The guard slipped his hand into the heavy metal handle and pulled it straight out from the wall. Once the lock was released, the guard lifted the handle up towards the ceiling. “They probably put her up near the front. The grave boys will be by before too long. They won’t want the smell infecting the rest of the stuff stored here in the room.”

Semeion walked in and spotted a red stained sheet. The light yellow hue of the sheet spoke of its faded and well used nature. Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows and stopped in the middle of the doorway as he looked to the sheet. It wasn’t laying right. “It’s too flat.”

The guard wasn’t ready for him to stop in the doorway, and he nearly ran into him. “What?”

Semeion shook his head. “The sheet, or rather, the body. There isn’t enough room there to have a body underneath it.”

Semeion slowly approached the sheet and rested his hand upon it. Sure enough, Semeion’s hand compressed the sheet until he felt the small stack of boxes upon which she had been laid. “She’s gone. The body is gone!”

The guard popped his head into the room and double checked Semeion’s claim. “Someone took the body?”

Semeion smiled as he looked back to the guard. “Perhaps.” He enjoyed any attempt to use his magic. “Thizzle Sooth.”

Semeion began to look at the world with a newer understanding. The area just above and below the sheet appeared to glow as Semeion studied the sheet. There were two distinct auras that his eyes were picking up.

Semeion talked his way through his observation. “Two distinct magical spells have been cast here. One of the spells was clearly stronger than the other. From the auras left behind, I can see that one of them was quite a powerful aura. In fact,” Semeion’s voice paused as his mind considered the information that his eyes were seeing. “One of them is teleportation magic, I’m sure of it. I need to get back to the temple and talk to Brandt.”

The guard stopped Semeion. “Now, wait a minute. What do I say to my superiors?”

Semeion looked over the guard’s shoulder, wishing that he was already walking down the hall. “Tell them exactly what happened. Tell them that the body has been magically removed. And tell them that if they need a person to collaborate your story that they can find me at the Temple of Reah. Tell them to ask for Master Brandt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and speak to that same man about what I saw here.”

The guard heard the urgency in Semeion’s words. “Very well. You’ll be at the Temple of Reah? Is Brandt the man that was here this morning?”

Semeion nodded and brushed past the guard, who allowed him to pass. Before long, Semeion had exited Lord Ironblood’s palace estate. He knew the way back to the temple and took no time in returning. When he had climbed the steps to the temple and opened the door, he nodded politely to the acolyte that moved to greet him. “I know the way to Master Brandt’s office, thank you.”

Semeion hurried down the hallway, knowing that the information he possessed needed to be sorted through. He knocked solidly upon the door and waited for Brandt to open it. To his surprise, it was actually Ischarus who opened the door.

Semeion glanced at the scar left on his neck from Allyssa’s attack. “Ischarus! Good to see that the arrow didn’t do you in!” He embraced his friend in as strong of a hug as he could muster.

Ischarus returned the hug and explained what had happened to him. “Reah was with me the whole time, and Brandt made sure that I was in good care. He saw the evidence of the poison immediately, and he used the magic that Reah had given to him to counteract the poison. Brandt knew that I was still very wounded, so he teleported me here to the care of the healers. They fixed me up before the wound could get any worse, although they say I might always bear a scar to remind me of the attack.”

Rhema slid around the door and slipped her arm inside of Ischarus’ elbow. “Reah was with him, and all of us. And I’ve been kidding him for a while know that he’d look good in a beard. Maybe now he’ll grow one and cover over any scar that’s left.”

Semeion smiled and stepped into Brandt’s office. Charis looked up to him and returned his smile. “Well? Is she dead?”

Semeion shook his head. “No, I think that she’s quite alive. Not only that, but she’s gone completely.”

Ischarus turned sharply to look at Semeion. “What? After all that we went through?”

Brandt smacked the top of his desk with his clenched fist. “Of course! The bumbling fools. They forgot to look for magic. I was bothered by the fact that Allyssa didn’t seem concerned that we were getting too close. I was even concerned that the assassination attempt was actually happening when she knew that we were onto her. With all of those Yrraxean priests around, she had to have magical protection guarding her. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had some sort of spell that was designed to revive her and teleport her away should she be killed.”

Charis turned and looked to Brandt. “Revive her? You mean, of course, to resurrect her?”

Brandt nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. She likely had a contingent spell to resurrect her and transport her away.”

Semeion looked confused. “Resurrection? Why would a god or goddess allow that to happen? I mean, if a follower of Reah dies, then they go to Reah and leave this world behind them. Why would they want to come back here? And why would Yrraxea give up her hold on a person once they have died and gone to the pit of her dark realm?”

Brandt nodded, and noticed that Rhema was paying particularly close attention. He also noticed that Ophee was listening hard for his reply as well. “You’re right, Semeion. Resurrections never happen with true followers of good gods and goddesses. Once you’ve passed on to paradise, what could convince you to come back? But the evil gods and goddesses enable the power to exist within the world as a bargaining chip. The gods and goddesses of evil are willing to make bargains in trade for worship. They allow loved ones to return under the exchange that when both the loved one and the one who bargained for their return die again the god or goddess retains possession of both. You can see why they would be interested in the release of their own dead. If releasing one dead now assures the return of two worshippers in the future, it really is just a matter of economics.”

Charis was still slightly confused by the explanation. “If that’s true, then why doesn’t Reah give that kind of deal? Think about all the loyal followers who might come to Reah under the agreement of having a loved one back?”

Brandt nodded and smiled. “I’ve often thought like that. It makes sense to us from our current position. But think about it from the perspective of the dead. What kind of act pulls someone away from absolute paradise and perfection only to return to this life? It is an act of selfishness on behalf of those of us who are still alive. We want the loved one back for our sake. If we were truly concerned about what is best for the loved one, we’d know that we want them to stay in paradise with their god or goddess. When I die, I want to stay with Reah and await the companionship of my loved ones from there.”

Rhema frowned, but secretly understood the expression. So long as people were following the paths of the good gods and goddesses, resurrection was a truly selfish act. She decided it was time to change the conversation. “So what of Allyssa? Someone bargained away their own life so that she could live again. Why would they want her alive, especially since she botched the assassination?”

A pale look formed over Ischarus’ face. “What if we have the wrong assassination? If they went to the extreme of putting a spell upon the assassin in case she died, could they have also put a spell on her that would immediately take them to another place where one of the assassinations failed?”

Brandt and Semeion both nodded, but Brandt was the one who spoke. “It’s certainly possible.”

Semeion followed up Brandt’s confirmation. “But which one? Thanks to us, they all failed!”

The party was surprised that it was Ophee who figured it out first. “King Rupert. That is the most important one.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Brandt nodded. “Of course. But even if the teleportation wasn’t to King Rupert and Eberdeen, he’s the one that we need to investigate first.”

Ischarus agreed. “Yeah. We need to make sure the king is safe before we check on all the other barons, lords, earls, and counts of Tongra. If the king is safe, other damage will be secondary and easier to overcome.”

Rhema lifted a finger to indicate that she was on the verge of thinking something through. “Wait a minute, here. The wizard’s chamber was a part of the Wizard’s College, and that was in Eberdeen. Since Allyssa was in the service of the wizard, is it possible that she went back to the college after her death and apparent resurrection?”

Semeion shook his head. “But, the Wizard’s College has special protection against teleportations. Remember, we couldn’t teleport directly into the Wizard’s College with Ophee. That’s why we had to meet the wizard outside one time and force our way in during the second.”

Ophee shook her head and smiled. “Actually, if the wizard was the originator of the spell, and by that I mean that if it was his magic, then it would circumvent the protective barrier. My former master used that trick on me many times. For that matter, if Allyssa had a ring created by my former master’s magic it would probably work.”

Ischarus pivoted so that he was facing Ophee. “Oh? Even with the wizard dead and his demonic possessor banished?”

Ophee shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I suppose it would depend on how long it took the Wizard’s College security organization to remove the wizard’s signature magic from the list of accepted mages. I’m just guessing here.”

Charis turned back to Semeion for answers regarding the realm of magic. “If she tried to use the teleportation magic and it was refused, would it work to ant extent?”

Semeion shrugged his shoulders and looked to Brandt. “It wouldn’t let her through, that’s for certain.”

Brandt picked up the explanation where Semeion had left it off. “There are a number of possibilities, depending on how the Wizard’s College has their anti-teleportation magic designed. If Allyssa did try to teleport into the Wizard’s College she could be delayed in a sort of stasis until released. Of course, that would give the Wizard’s College time to prepare for her arrival. This would be the most involved solution, and the solution that I would least expect. The maintenance for such a system would be incredibly involved. Every attempt to teleport in would have to be handled - and likely in various locations, too.”

Brandt paused for a moment to breathe before continuing. “Their defense could outright reject the magic from occurring. But I doubt that this answer is likely as well. It wouldn’t allow the Wizard’s College security to have the ability to know who is trying to gain access to their location. My guess is that their protective magic is really just a form of diversion. Anyone or anything that is not approved that teleports into a protected area is automatically diverted to a special room. In that way, the security can be relatively contained and managed. If I were designing a protective barrier, I would choose the one that redirects incoming teleportations. That would allow for a combination of the least amount of variation but the most amount of information gained.”

Semeion turned back to Brandt and replied. “So, if Allyssa tried to teleport, then we may be able to contact the Wizard’s College and see if they intercepted her?”

Brandt grinned. “Better yet, how about I just teleport you to all to Eberdeen and you can question the Wizard’s College guard yourself? It may take time to communicate via magic, but good old fashioned knocking on their front door will always work. And, since you won’t be teleporting directly into the College, they should receive you well.”

Ischarus and the rest of the party nodded at Brandt’s suggestion. “And you will bring us back?”

Brandt nodded. “Well, I could give you the rings, again. That way you could bring yourself back when you want.”

Ischarus nearly agreed before Charis cut off his speech. “Actually, sir, I’d personally feel more comfortable if you teleported us and simply gave us a means to communicate with you. If we run into more trouble than Allyssa in Eberdeen, I’d like to know that you can be reached. I’d hate to think that we overlooked something and might be facing a squadron of Yrraxeans gathered in Eberdeen. This is especially true if they are upset that their planned assassinations haven’t taken place as planned.”

Brandt nodded. “Sounds reasonable enough to me. I can give Semeion a scroll that when the magic is called upon it will alert me that you are ready. You’ll be able to send a simple enough message through to me. I’ll come to you and teleport you all back with me.”

Ischarus gave a pleasant look to Charis before returning his focus upon Brandt. “Fair enough. It makes sense to have a means of communication anyway. Shall we get going, then?”

Brandt nodded. “I’ll need a little time to prepare the spells required, but I should have you safely to Eberdeen in less than a half hour.”

Semeion looked to the follower of Reah. “I can help you, and take some of the burden of the magic off of your shoulders. We’ll be able to leave more quickly, then.”

Brandt nodded, accepting Semeion’s offer to help. In fifteen minutes, largely with help from Semeion, Ischarus, and Ophee, the foursome was headed to Eberdeen. Ophee decided that she should stay behind in Fingerdale rather than get mixed up in Eberdeen. If things went well, Brandt would be going to Eberdeen and transporting five people back to Fingerdale with himself. Transporting a total of six people would tax his power enough; there was little reason to make Brandt have to teleport another person.

When the party arrived in Eberdeen, they saw that Brandt had teleported them just outside of the Wizard’s College. Semeion and Charis entered the bottom level of the Wizard’s College and asked to speak with security. To their surprise, security was already on their way to intercept the party. The college had registered the teleport and were dispatched to intercept the party.

Fortunately, the Wizard’s College security was put on ease with respect to the party. When they discovered that Semeion and his friends had little interest of forcing their way deeper into the college they were willing to talk. Once they discovered that it was the same people who had an agreement with security regarding the hunt for their own renegade wizard’s forces, they were even willing to cooperate. Unfortunately, Allyssa had not tried to gain access to the Wizard’s College. Semeion and his friends learned nothing from the Wizard’s College security.

They were able to find out from the security forces that King Rupert was scheduled to do a noon conversation with the general population in the public gardens. They were also able to learn that nothing had happened to the king so far in the day. They knew that the gardens wouldn’t be difficult to find and they left the Wizard’s College behind them in search of the gardens.

The party arrived at the gardens as a few workmen were still setting up the stage in the middle of the amphitheater that had been carved out of the ground. A fair crowd had already gathered in anticipation of the king’s public address. Ischarus pointed to the crowd and shook his head from side to side.

Semeion spoke in response to Ischarus’ gesture. “If she’s in there, we’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

Rhema knew her husband’s gesture better than Semeion. “No, Semeion. She won’t be in there. Look at the people closely. What kind of people are they?”

Charis spoke before Semeion could respond. “Merchants and nobles, by the look of them. Not the poor like we saw earlier at Lord Ironblood’s palace.”

Ischarus nodded in agreement with Charis. “Yeah, exactly. Not the kind of people that an armed assassin is going to blend in easily with. The poor and the disheveled are one thing. But if Allyssa gets too close and someone discovers her, they’ll be able to put two and two together and do something about it. She won’t risk it. I’d look for her around the perimeter, just like at the palace.”

Rhema had an immediate flashback to the morning’s earlier events. A shudder ran up her spine and out the nerves of her arm. “Yeah, but this time the target is real. And Brandt isn’t going to be there to protect him.”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace. “We’ll manage. We’ll get her again.”

Ischarus turned in a slow circle around where the party stood. “We should take a walk around. If we split up, we might be less noticeable.”

Semeion slipped his hand inside Charis’ own hand. “Good. I can always use any excuse to walk around a park and enjoy the company of my wife.”

Ischarus took Semeion’s lead and wrapped his arm over Rhema’s shoulder. “I like the way that you think.”

Rhema turned Ischarus away from the direction that Charis and Semeion faced. “We’ll go east, you two go west. We’ll see you on the other side.”

The pair split up, and it was about a third of the way around that Charis spotted Allyssa. She was casually sitting in the lawn seeming to enjoy her lunch, and her tools of the trade were nowhere in sight. Charis squeezed Semeion’s hand and pulled it lightly in the direction to look. “Let’s just keep walking until we meet up with Ischarus and Rhema. We’ll get to them before King Rupert takes the stage.”

The foursome met up on the opposite side of the amphitheater than where they started. Ischarus shook his head, but it was Charis who spoke softly of success. “She’s on the northwest lawn. She must have stashed her bow and arrows nearby so that she could sit in the lawn without worrying about discovery.”

A voice spoke from the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, King Rupert will be making his address momentarily.”

The foursome turned back to the stage. Charis slipped a glance over to where Allyssa had been sitting. She was on the move. Charis tugged at Semeion’s sleeve to point out the movement.

Semeion kissed his wife on the forehead once he saw what Charis had noticed. He spoke soft enough so that only his three companions could here him. “Ladies and gentleman, take your places. The show is about to get interesting.” His three friends turned to him and noticed a broad grin on his face. He was enjoying the thought running through his head.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt nodded. “Of course. But even if the teleportation wasn’t to King Rupert and Eberdeen, he’s the one that we need to investigate first.”

Ischarus agreed. “Yeah. We need to make sure the king is safe before we check on all the other barons, lords, earls, and counts of Tongra. If the king is safe, other damage will be secondary and easier to overcome.”

Rhema lifted a finger to indicate that she was on the verge of thinking something through. “Wait a minute, here. The wizard’s chamber was a part of the Wizard’s College, and that was in Eberdeen. Since Allyssa was in the service of the wizard, is it possible that she went back to the college after her death and apparent resurrection?”

Semeion shook his head. “But, the Wizard’s College has special protection against teleportations. Remember, we couldn’t teleport directly into the Wizard’s College with Ophee. That’s why we had to meet the wizard outside one time and force our way in during the second.”

Ophee shook her head and smiled. “Actually, if the wizard was the originator of the spell, and by that I mean that if it was his magic, then it would circumvent the protective barrier. My former master used that trick on me many times. For that matter, if Allyssa had a ring created by my former master’s magic it would probably work.”

Ischarus pivoted so that he was facing Ophee. “Oh? Even with the wizard dead and his demonic possessor banished?”

Ophee shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I suppose it would depend on how long it took the Wizard’s College security organization to remove the wizard’s signature magic from the list of accepted mages. I’m just guessing here.”

Charis turned back to Semeion for answers regarding the realm of magic. “If she tried to use the teleportation magic and it was refused, would it work to ant extent?”

Semeion shrugged his shoulders and looked to Brandt. “It wouldn’t let her through, that’s for certain.”

Brandt picked up the explanation where Semeion had left it off. “There are a number of possibilities, depending on how the Wizard’s College has their anti-teleportation magic designed. If Allyssa did try to teleport into the Wizard’s College she could be delayed in a sort of stasis until released. Of course, that would give the Wizard’s College time to prepare for her arrival. This would be the most involved solution, and the solution that I would least expect. The maintenance for such a system would be incredibly involved. Every attempt to teleport in would have to be handled - and likely in various locations, too.”

Brandt paused for a moment to breathe before continuing. “Their defense could outright reject the magic from occurring. But I doubt that this answer is likely as well. It wouldn’t allow the Wizard’s College security to have the ability to know who is trying to gain access to their location. My guess is that their protective magic is really just a form of diversion. Anyone or anything that is not approved that teleports into a protected area is automatically diverted to a special room. In that way, the security can be relatively contained and managed. If I were designing a protective barrier, I would choose the one that redirects incoming teleportations. That would allow for a combination of the least amount of variation but the most amount of information gained.”

Semeion turned back to Brandt and replied. “So, if Allyssa tried to teleport, then we may be able to contact the Wizard’s College and see if they intercepted her?”

Brandt grinned. “Better yet, how about I just teleport you to all to Eberdeen and you can question the Wizard’s College guard yourself? It may take time to communicate via magic, but good old fashioned knocking on their front door will always work. And, since you won’t be teleporting directly into the College, they should receive you well.”

Ischarus and the rest of the party nodded at Brandt’s suggestion. “And you will bring us back?”

Brandt nodded. “Well, I could give you the rings, again. That way you could bring yourself back when you want.”

Ischarus nearly agreed before Charis cut off his speech. “Actually, sir, I’d personally feel more comfortable if you teleported us and simply gave us a means to communicate with you. If we run into more trouble than Allyssa in Eberdeen, I’d like to know that you can be reached. I’d hate to think that we overlooked something and might be facing a squadron of Yrraxeans gathered in Eberdeen. This is especially true if they are upset that their planned assassinations haven’t taken place as planned.”

Brandt nodded. “Sounds reasonable enough to me. I can give Semeion a scroll that when the magic is called upon it will alert me that you are ready. You’ll be able to send a simple enough message through to me. I’ll come to you and teleport you all back with me.”

Ischarus gave a pleasant look to Charis before returning his focus upon Brandt. “Fair enough. It makes sense to have a means of communication anyway. Shall we get going, then?”

Brandt nodded. “I’ll need a little time to prepare the spells required, but I should have you safely to Eberdeen in less than a half hour.”

Semeion looked to the follower of Reah. “I can help you, and take some of the burden of the magic off of your shoulders. We’ll be able to leave more quickly, then.”

Brandt nodded, accepting Semeion’s offer to help. In fifteen minutes, largely with help from Semeion, Ischarus, and Ophee, the foursome was headed to Eberdeen. Ophee decided that she should stay behind in Fingerdale rather than get mixed up in Eberdeen. If things went well, Brandt would be going to Eberdeen and transporting five people back to Fingerdale with himself. Transporting a total of six people would tax his power enough; there was little reason to make Brandt have to teleport another person.

When the party arrived in Eberdeen, they saw that Brandt had teleported them just outside of the Wizard’s College. Semeion and Charis entered the bottom level of the Wizard’s College and asked to speak with security. To their surprise, security was already on their way to intercept the party. The college had registered the teleport and were dispatched to intercept the party.

Fortunately, the Wizard’s College security was put on ease with respect to the party. When they discovered that Semeion and his friends had little interest of forcing their way deeper into the college they were willing to talk. Once they discovered that it was the same people who had an agreement with security regarding the hunt for their own renegade wizard’s forces, they were even willing to cooperate. Unfortunately, Allyssa had not tried to gain access to the Wizard’s College. Semeion and his friends learned nothing from the Wizard’s College security.

They were able to find out from the security forces that King Rupert was scheduled to do a noon conversation with the general population in the public gardens. They were also able to learn that nothing had happened to the king so far in the day. They knew that the gardens wouldn’t be difficult to find and they left the Wizard’s College behind them in search of the gardens.

The party arrived at the gardens as a few workmen were still setting up the stage in the middle of the amphitheater that had been carved out of the ground. A fair crowd had already gathered in anticipation of the king’s public address. Ischarus pointed to the crowd and shook his head from side to side.

Semeion spoke in response to Ischarus’ gesture. “If she’s in there, we’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

Rhema knew her husband’s gesture better than Semeion. “No, Semeion. She won’t be in there. Look at the people closely. What kind of people are they?”

Charis spoke before Semeion could respond. “Merchants and nobles, by the look of them. Not the poor like we saw earlier at Lord Ironblood’s palace.”

Ischarus nodded in agreement with Charis. “Yeah, exactly. Not the kind of people that an armed assassin is going to blend in easily with. The poor and the disheveled are one thing. But if Allyssa gets too close and someone discovers her, they’ll be able to put two and two together and do something about it. She won’t risk it. I’d look for her around the perimeter, just like at the palace.”

Rhema had an immediate flashback to the morning’s earlier events. A shudder ran up her spine and out the nerves of her arm. “Yeah, but this time the target is real. And Brandt isn’t going to be there to protect him.”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace. “We’ll manage. We’ll get her again.”

Ischarus turned in a slow circle around where the party stood. “We should take a walk around. If we split up, we might be less noticeable.”

Semeion slipped his hand inside Charis’ own hand. “Good. I can always use any excuse to walk around a park and enjoy the company of my wife.”

Ischarus took Semeion’s lead and wrapped his arm over Rhema’s shoulder. “I like the way that you think.”

Rhema turned Ischarus away from the direction that Charis and Semeion faced. “We’ll go east, you two go west. We’ll see you on the other side.”

The pair split up, and it was about a third of the way around that Charis spotted Allyssa. She was casually sitting in the lawn seeming to enjoy her lunch, and her tools of the trade were nowhere in sight. Charis squeezed Semeion’s hand and pulled it lightly in the direction to look. “Let’s just keep walking until we meet up with Ischarus and Rhema. We’ll get to them before King Rupert takes the stage.”

The foursome met up on the opposite side of the amphitheater than where they started. Ischarus shook his head, but it was Charis who spoke softly of success. “She’s on the northwest lawn. She must have stashed her bow and arrows nearby so that she could sit in the lawn without worrying about discovery.”

A voice spoke from the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, King Rupert will be making his address momentarily.”

The foursome turned back to the stage. Charis slipped a glance over to where Allyssa had been sitting. She was on the move. Charis tugged at Semeion’s sleeve to point out the movement.

Semeion kissed his wife on the forehead once he saw what Charis had noticed. He spoke soft enough so that only his three companions could here him. “Ladies and gentleman, take your places. The show is about to get interesting.” His three friends turned to him and noticed a broad grin on his face. He was enjoying the thought running through his head.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Charis grinned at Semeion’s smile. “You have something planned.”

Semeion nodded, and his eyes told Charis that he was still working through the details. “Yeah, and I think that it will be pretty easy to pull off considering that we have the advantage. We know her game and how she is going to attack. To our knowledge, she doesn’t even know that we are here.”

Ischarus turned back to the stage in the center of the amphitheater. The man who had just done the announcement was stepping off the marble floor. King Rupert would take the stage soon. “So, how do you envision the next three minutes passing by?”

Semeion turned back to Ischarus. “Leave the protection of the king up to me. I can ensure his safety, and I planned my magic earlier for just this moment. Charis, you’ll need to use your powers to keep Allyssa busy until you and Ischarus can close on her and take her down. Rhema, anything you can do to convince Allyssa’s mind that either she is defeated or what she is seeing is more powerful than it actually is would be appreciated.”

Ischarus added further wisdom to Semeion’s plan. “And do it from a distance, Rhema. Between Charis and me, we can get up close and physical. There is no need for you to risk getting any closer to an assassin than you need to perform your mind control.”

Rhema glared at Ischarus at first. She felt like he was treating her as a child. As she looked to him, the image of an arrow sinking deep through the scar on his neck flooded her mind. Allyssa was dangerous, even from range. She decided that Ischarus was not treating her like a child after all. He knew the level of her danger. If Allyssa could almost kill him with one shot, Rhema knew that she didn’t stand a chance. “I understand. You can trust me in that so long as you and Charis aren’t in danger of dying that I’ll stay back.”

Charis noticed the king making his way to the center of the stage. A quick glance towards Allyssa’s direction showed that she had largely gone into hiding up a tree. Her bow was drawn, but the arrow wasn’t nocked. “One more thing. Watch out for Yrraxeans, Rhema. With Semeion concentrating on the protection of the king and Ischarus and me focusing on Allyssa, you’ll need to be the eyes in the back of our heads. There might not be anyone else here, but you never know. They’ve had enough time to realize the other assassinations didn’t happen, either.”

Rhema nodded, and she knew Charis was right. This might not turn out to be a four on one battle. This might turn out to be a large group of evil Yrraxean cultists against the four of them. And there would be no telling how the king’s guard would react to Semeion’s magic, either.

The king stopped in the center of the marble and cleared his throat. The corners of Semeion’s mouth lifted in pleasure. “Ehoim Egro nuan Fashiir.” Once his magic began to appear around the king, he turned to his friends. “Go, now. Get her.”

Allyssa didn’t hear Semeion’s magical command. All she saw was a mild mist collecting around the king’s feet. The appearance of the mist caused her to pause for a second as she drew back her arrow. “Interesting. Nobody can see me, though. It is irrelevant.” She drew the arrow, but by the time she was able to take her final aim, the king was completely covered by a thick fog.

She released her arrow as several of the king’s guards came to protect the king in the midst of the mist. The arrow shot straight into the cloud and did not come out the other side. Allyssa watched as King Rupert stumbled backwards out of the cloud. Her poisoned arrow was stuck deep in his chest. He clutched the arrow and shrieked out loud before collapsing backwards upon the marble stone. He was dead.

Semeion also saw the arrow enter the cloud. His mind sprang into action and the magical plan that he had devised easily came to the forefront of his thoughts. “Allay Egro.” Once he was sure that the magic had found its mark, he spoke quietly. “Do no leave the cloud. I am a mage named Semeion, and your protection depends upon you staying in the cloud. You will not be harmed, and you must convince your guards to stay in the cloud with you.”

He knew that he couldn’t receive a reply from the king, so he assumed that the king would obey his instructions. His magical words came once again. “Ythan Shintar.” A smile appeared on his face as he directed the illusion that Allyssa had thought was real. The illusion was that of the king backing out of the cloud and into his dying throes. He hoped that if Allyssa could be convinced that the king was dead that she would forget about him and allow herself to be completely absorbed by the challenge of Ischarus and Charis. His only hope was that his illusion wouldn’t fool Charis, Ischarus, or Rhema into thinking the king was actually dead.

Charis saw the arrow leave Allyssa’s bow as she charged across the top of the ground above the amphitheater. Once more she called the servants of Bemme to her aid. “Daancrah Shintar Teos!” She called out the magical words so loudly that a few nearby to her turned and looked in her direction. A giant bee popped into existence about halfway between herself and the tree that held Allyssa. She called out to the flying holy avenger. “Arash, keep the one in the tree busy!”

The ring of Ischarus’ sword caught Allyssa’s attention as he and Charis charged towards the tree. She focused on the pair, but caught sight of the angry holy bee zipping its way through the air towards her. She deftly pulled out another arrow and let it fly from the midst of the tree. Had the arrow struck its mark, it would have been a brilliant strategy. As it were, the arrow split through the air and the bee pirouetted in midair to allow the arrow to pass by it unharmed.

Allyssa watched as the arrow shot past the bee and lodged itself in the arm of an innocent onlooker. “Too bad I didn’t have time to taint that one with poison.” Allyssa looked to the ground and knew that a straight fall could result in a broken leg. Instead, she let go of the trunk of the tree with her arms and used the arches of her shoes to grip the bark of the tree on her way down. Fortunately, she was in one of the lowest limbs and didn’t need to worry about lower branches. She landed on the ground and stood up as quickly as she could.

Rhema focused on Allyssa’s mind and decided to give her friends a boost. She gave Allyssa another false image to see while her two friends charged towards the assassin. She smiled as Allyssa’s body language told her that the assassin believed the image.

Allyssa saw Charis trip and stumble on a root that broke the surface of the ground. As she stumbled, her arm flailed around and caught Ischarus’ legs and forced him to the ground. The assassin smiled as she now thought she had enough time to focus on the giant bee buzzing towards her. She nocked another arrow and drew her bow back. The arrow shot through the air and glanced off of the tough hide of the bee.

Charis and Ischarus couldn’t understand why Allyssa had seemingly ignored their approach and instead focused on the bee. They both slowed in their approach in order to focus on offense and defense against the assassin. They each swung with their respective weapons but missed their mark.

The bee dove in to strike at Allyssa, but she used the end of her bow to poke the angry flying insect away. The assassin had been surprised to see the attacks come from people that she had assumed would still be picking themselves up from the ground, but their ill timed strikes allowed her a moment to recover. She simply dropped her bow to the ground and drew a pair of short swords. Green oil collected along the serrated edge of the blade in her left hand.

Allyssa used both swords in a strike against Ischarus. However, Ischarus was able to fend of both attacks with a quick maneuver of the shield strapped to his left hand. None of the deadly green poison found its way on to Ischarus’ skin.

Ischarus pivoted his sword quickly from a defensive posture to an offensive one. “Thin Zecka Egro.” The familiar spell he used as a platform for assault came to his lips with ease. Magical sparks leapt down his arm and surrounded his blade. His sword was poised to release a deadly electrical force upon impact.

Ischarus spoke as he swung. “Surrender now and I’ll guarantee that you do not die.” His sword floated through the air with a deadly precision. A split second before the blade hit home the stored electrical energy jumped from his blade across the minute gap and into Allyssa’s body. The steel followed the strike quickly, and Allyssa felt the burn of the electricity meet the tearing pain of Ischarus’ sharp blade.

Charis swung again, but her attack missed its mark once more. Her summons, Arash, found better success. The giant holy bee was able to latch onto Allyssa’s arm and drive its stinger home. Allyssa had now managed to have been assaulted from both sides and both arms were in burning agony.

Allyssa looked once more towards the center of the amphitheater. She saw the illusion that Semeion had presented. The magical mystical cloud had been offered up, but to her perception of the events the cloud had been ineffective. The king lay dead and her arrow had found its home in spite of the magical mist. As she took in the sight, a smile came across her face.

The smile caused Ischarus and Charis to pause. It was an unusual smile that clearly had a dark meaning behind it. “Death is no fear of mine. I have accomplished my mission where others have failed. The Queen of Avarice will welcome me into her midst! I will rule over those who have failed her this day!”

Allyssa dropped the blade in her right hand and turned the poisoned sword around in her left hand so that the point extended downward from the pinky finger side of her grip instead of upward from her thumb side. Before Ischarus or Charis could react, Allyssa gripped the pommel of the sword in both hands and drove the poisoned blade into her own chest. The blade sunk deep into her heart, puncturing it badly before also puncturing her left lung. A smile of relief crossed her lips as she spoke for the last time. “You will not have the victory over me that you hoped. I have succeeded and will be welcomed by my queen. You cannot keep me from her.”

Charis turned in horror to Ischarus as Allyssa died between them. Ischarus held out a hand, stopping Charis from healing her. “She chose this path of death for herself, Charis. What would healing her now accomplish?”

Charis didn’t listen to Ischarus’ gesture. She knelt beside Allyssa and spoke the words of healing that had always dwelled inside of her. “Bondras-tol Egro.” The yellow healing magic collected on her fingertips, causing them to glow. As she extending them over Allyssa’s chest and touched her skin just above the entry wound for the blade, the yellow healing magic left her fingers and passed into Allyssa’s body.

Allyssa’s body refused to be healed, however. Charis had never had her magic return to her unused until now. The yellow glow lifted out of Allyssa’s chest and returned to Charis’ fingers. “She’s already dead?”

Rhema had approached, and she was followed by a growing crowd of interested bystanders. She stood behind Charis and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t heal everyone, Charis. Allyssa took her own life and wanted to meet her queen. In spirit, she was already dead when she found herself trapped and surrounded. When she missed with her first assault and Ischarus retaliated with a decisive blow, she must have decided that she didn’t want to risk capture and imprisonment. She wanted to be with her queen.”

Semeion also spoke. He had gathered with the crowd and had brought a few of the king’s royal guard with him. “Too bad she was wrong. The king’s just fine. She didn’t accomplish any part of her objective. Lord Ironblood and King Rupert live unscathed. I do not think that her queen will be as pleased to see her as she thinks.”

Several guards pushed forward through the crowd and took their place over the body. The one near Allyssa’s head spoke with a stern voice. “Make way, people. The king’s guard will begin an investigation and anyone interfering in that investigation will open themselves up to further inquiry. If you want to observe, I’d recommend that all of you take about twenty steps back and make a path between here and the amphitheater. Anyone not following this order will be arrested and questioned regarding their role in the assassination attempt.”

The crowd immediately moved, except for Semeion, Charis, Ischarus, and Rhema. Ischarus looked the guard directly in the eye and spoke quietly. He hoped his words would go unheard by the crowd. “Sir, we intercepted her because we were on her trail. We were only aware of the realistic severity of this attempt moments before the king took the stage, which is why your men could not be informed. But we are investigating the cult from which she comes. Might we have a moment to search her body before she is taken away? I promise to share anything we find with your guard, of course.”

The guard looked at the crowd. They were largely obeying and posing no threat. “Well, you did save the king’s life. You may proceed, but I want to see all that you find.”

Ischarus nodded and knelt down to the ground. He reached through several of her pockets and found only a single scrap of paper. As he unfolded the paper he read the message aloud. “Allyssa, meet us in Shiftedburg after the assassinations. There is much we must discuss. Pahk.”

Rhema’s face drew pale. “Shiftedburg! Why, that’s a suburb of Fingerdale on the complete opposite side of the city as Huetown!”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis grinned at Semeion’s smile. “You have something planned.”

Semeion nodded, and his eyes told Charis that he was still working through the details. “Yeah, and I think that it will be pretty easy to pull off considering that we have the advantage. We know her game and how she is going to attack. To our knowledge, she doesn’t even know that we are here.”

Ischarus turned back to the stage in the center of the amphitheater. The man who had just done the announcement was stepping off the marble floor. King Rupert would take the stage soon. “So, how do you envision the next three minutes passing by?”

Semeion turned back to Ischarus. “Leave the protection of the king up to me. I can ensure his safety, and I planned my magic earlier for just this moment. Charis, you’ll need to use your powers to keep Allyssa busy until you and Ischarus can close on her and take her down. Rhema, anything you can do to convince Allyssa’s mind that either she is defeated or what she is seeing is more powerful than it actually is would be appreciated.”

Ischarus added further wisdom to Semeion’s plan. “And do it from a distance, Rhema. Between Charis and me, we can get up close and physical. There is no need for you to risk getting any closer to an assassin than you need to perform your mind control.”

Rhema glared at Ischarus at first. She felt like he was treating her as a child. As she looked to him, the image of an arrow sinking deep through the scar on his neck flooded her mind. Allyssa was dangerous, even from range. She decided that Ischarus was not treating her like a child after all. He knew the level of her danger. If Allyssa could almost kill him with one shot, Rhema knew that she didn’t stand a chance. “I understand. You can trust me in that so long as you and Charis aren’t in danger of dying that I’ll stay back.”

Charis noticed the king making his way to the center of the stage. A quick glance towards Allyssa’s direction showed that she had largely gone into hiding up a tree. Her bow was drawn, but the arrow wasn’t nocked. “One more thing. Watch out for Yrraxeans, Rhema. With Semeion concentrating on the protection of the king and Ischarus and me focusing on Allyssa, you’ll need to be the eyes in the back of our heads. There might not be anyone else here, but you never know. They’ve had enough time to realize the other assassinations didn’t happen, either.”

Rhema nodded, and she knew Charis was right. This might not turn out to be a four on one battle. This might turn out to be a large group of evil Yrraxean cultists against the four of them. And there would be no telling how the king’s guard would react to Semeion’s magic, either.

The king stopped in the center of the marble and cleared his throat. The corners of Semeion’s mouth lifted in pleasure. “Ehoim Egro nuan Fashiir.” Once his magic began to appear around the king, he turned to his friends. “Go, now. Get her.”

Allyssa didn’t hear Semeion’s magical command. All she saw was a mild mist collecting around the king’s feet. The appearance of the mist caused her to pause for a second as she drew back her arrow. “Interesting. Nobody can see me, though. It is irrelevant.” She drew the arrow, but by the time she was able to take her final aim, the king was completely covered by a thick fog.

She released her arrow as several of the king’s guards came to protect the king in the midst of the mist. The arrow shot straight into the cloud and did not come out the other side. Allyssa watched as King Rupert stumbled backwards out of the cloud. Her poisoned arrow was stuck deep in his chest. He clutched the arrow and shrieked out loud before collapsing backwards upon the marble stone. He was dead.

Semeion also saw the arrow enter the cloud. His mind sprang into action and the magical plan that he had devised easily came to the forefront of his thoughts. “Allay Egro.” Once he was sure that the magic had found its mark, he spoke quietly. “Do no leave the cloud. I am a mage named Semeion, and your protection depends upon you staying in the cloud. You will not be harmed, and you must convince your guards to stay in the cloud with you.”

He knew that he couldn’t receive a reply from the king, so he assumed that the king would obey his instructions. His magical words came once again. “Ythan Shintar.” A smile appeared on his face as he directed the illusion that Allyssa had thought was real. The illusion was that of the king backing out of the cloud and into his dying throes. He hoped that if Allyssa could be convinced that the king was dead that she would forget about him and allow herself to be completely absorbed by the challenge of Ischarus and Charis. His only hope was that his illusion wouldn’t fool Charis, Ischarus, or Rhema into thinking the king was actually dead.

Charis saw the arrow leave Allyssa’s bow as she charged across the top of the ground above the amphitheater. Once more she called the servants of Bemme to her aid. “Daancrah Shintar Teos!” She called out the magical words so loudly that a few nearby to her turned and looked in her direction. A giant bee popped into existence about halfway between herself and the tree that held Allyssa. She called out to the flying holy avenger. “Arash, keep the one in the tree busy!”

The ring of Ischarus’ sword caught Allyssa’s attention as he and Charis charged towards the tree. She focused on the pair, but caught sight of the angry holy bee zipping its way through the air towards her. She deftly pulled out another arrow and let it fly from the midst of the tree. Had the arrow struck its mark, it would have been a brilliant strategy. As it were, the arrow split through the air and the bee pirouetted in midair to allow the arrow to pass by it unharmed.

Allyssa watched as the arrow shot past the bee and lodged itself in the arm of an innocent onlooker. “Too bad I didn’t have time to taint that one with poison.” Allyssa looked to the ground and knew that a straight fall could result in a broken leg. Instead, she let go of the trunk of the tree with her arms and used the arches of her shoes to grip the bark of the tree on her way down. Fortunately, she was in one of the lowest limbs and didn’t need to worry about lower branches. She landed on the ground and stood up as quickly as she could.

Rhema focused on Allyssa’s mind and decided to give her friends a boost. She gave Allyssa another false image to see while her two friends charged towards the assassin. She smiled as Allyssa’s body language told her that the assassin believed the image.

Allyssa saw Charis trip and stumble on a root that broke the surface of the ground. As she stumbled, her arm flailed around and caught Ischarus’ legs and forced him to the ground. The assassin smiled as she now thought she had enough time to focus on the giant bee buzzing towards her. She nocked another arrow and drew her bow back. The arrow shot through the air and glanced off of the tough hide of the bee.

Charis and Ischarus couldn’t understand why Allyssa had seemingly ignored their approach and instead focused on the bee. They both slowed in their approach in order to focus on offense and defense against the assassin. They each swung with their respective weapons but missed their mark.

The bee dove in to strike at Allyssa, but she used the end of her bow to poke the angry flying insect away. The assassin had been surprised to see the attacks come from people that she had assumed would still be picking themselves up from the ground, but their ill timed strikes allowed her a moment to recover. She simply dropped her bow to the ground and drew a pair of short swords. Green oil collected along the serrated edge of the blade in her left hand.

Allyssa used both swords in a strike against Ischarus. However, Ischarus was able to fend of both attacks with a quick maneuver of the shield strapped to his left hand. None of the deadly green poison found its way on to Ischarus’ skin.

Ischarus pivoted his sword quickly from a defensive posture to an offensive one. “Thin Zecka Egro.” The familiar spell he used as a platform for assault came to his lips with ease. Magical sparks leapt down his arm and surrounded his blade. His sword was poised to release a deadly electrical force upon impact.

Ischarus spoke as he swung. “Surrender now and I’ll guarantee that you do not die.” His sword floated through the air with a deadly precision. A split second before the blade hit home the stored electrical energy jumped from his blade across the minute gap and into Allyssa’s body. The steel followed the strike quickly, and Allyssa felt the burn of the electricity meet the tearing pain of Ischarus’ sharp blade.

Charis swung again, but her attack missed its mark once more. Her summons, Arash, found better success. The giant holy bee was able to latch onto Allyssa’s arm and drive its stinger home. Allyssa had now managed to have been assaulted from both sides and both arms were in burning agony.

Allyssa looked once more towards the center of the amphitheater. She saw the illusion that Semeion had presented. The magical mystical cloud had been offered up, but to her perception of the events the cloud had been ineffective. The king lay dead and her arrow had found its home in spite of the magical mist. As she took in the sight, a smile came across her face.

The smile caused Ischarus and Charis to pause. It was an unusual smile that clearly had a dark meaning behind it. “Death is no fear of mine. I have accomplished my mission where others have failed. The Queen of Avarice will welcome me into her midst! I will rule over those who have failed her this day!”

Allyssa dropped the blade in her right hand and turned the poisoned sword around in her left hand so that the point extended downward from the pinky finger side of her grip instead of upward from her thumb side. Before Ischarus or Charis could react, Allyssa gripped the pommel of the sword in both hands and drove the poisoned blade into her own chest. The blade sunk deep into her heart, puncturing it badly before also puncturing her left lung. A smile of relief crossed her lips as she spoke for the last time. “You will not have the victory over me that you hoped. I have succeeded and will be welcomed by my queen. You cannot keep me from her.”

Charis turned in horror to Ischarus as Allyssa died between them. Ischarus held out a hand, stopping Charis from healing her. “She chose this path of death for herself, Charis. What would healing her now accomplish?”

Charis didn’t listen to Ischarus’ gesture. She knelt beside Allyssa and spoke the words of healing that had always dwelled inside of her. “Bondras-tol Egro.” The yellow healing magic collected on her fingertips, causing them to glow. As she extending them over Allyssa’s chest and touched her skin just above the entry wound for the blade, the yellow healing magic left her fingers and passed into Allyssa’s body.

Allyssa’s body refused to be healed, however. Charis had never had her magic return to her unused until now. The yellow glow lifted out of Allyssa’s chest and returned to Charis’ fingers. “She’s already dead?”

Rhema had approached, and she was followed by a growing crowd of interested bystanders. She stood behind Charis and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t heal everyone, Charis. Allyssa took her own life and wanted to meet her queen. In spirit, she was already dead when she found herself trapped and surrounded. When she missed with her first assault and Ischarus retaliated with a decisive blow, she must have decided that she didn’t want to risk capture and imprisonment. She wanted to be with her queen.”

Semeion also spoke. He had gathered with the crowd and had brought a few of the king’s royal guard with him. “Too bad she was wrong. The king’s just fine. She didn’t accomplish any part of her objective. Lord Ironblood and King Rupert live unscathed. I do not think that her queen will be as pleased to see her as she thinks.”

Several guards pushed forward through the crowd and took their place over the body. The one near Allyssa’s head spoke with a stern voice. “Make way, people. The king’s guard will begin an investigation and anyone interfering in that investigation will open themselves up to further inquiry. If you want to observe, I’d recommend that all of you take about twenty steps back and make a path between here and the amphitheater. Anyone not following this order will be arrested and questioned regarding their role in the assassination attempt.”

The crowd immediately moved, except for Semeion, Charis, Ischarus, and Rhema. Ischarus looked the guard directly in the eye and spoke quietly. He hoped his words would go unheard by the crowd. “Sir, we intercepted her because we were on her trail. We were only aware of the realistic severity of this attempt moments before the king took the stage, which is why your men could not be informed. But we are investigating the cult from which she comes. Might we have a moment to search her body before she is taken away? I promise to share anything we find with your guard, of course.”

The guard looked at the crowd. They were largely obeying and posing no threat. “Well, you did save the king’s life. You may proceed, but I want to see all that you find.”

Ischarus nodded and knelt down to the ground. He reached through several of her pockets and found only a single scrap of paper. As he unfolded the paper he read the message aloud. “Allyssa, meet us in Shiftedburg after the assassinations. There is much we must discuss. Pahk.”

Rhema’s face drew pale. “Shiftedburg! Why, that’s a suburb of Fingerdale on the complete opposite side of the city as Huetown!”

[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The party strode into Shiftedburg an hour before the sun was to make its disappearance from the sky. It had been a long day since Allyssa’s suicide. There had been many stages in the attempt to track down Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg.

They had left Allyssa’s dead body with the king’s guard and had given them specific instructions regarding the care of the body. The party warned them that the last time Allyssa had died she had reappeared alive in Eberdeen. Once they were sure that the king’s guard would take her dead body a seriously as necessary, they used the spell that Brandt had given Semeion to indicate that they were ready to return.

Brandt was not happy to hear of Allyssa’s death, but he did not hold the event against anyone in the party. She was a formidable opponent, and the use of the poison on herself indicated that she was serious about the choice of death over capture. Brandt consoled Charis over the fact that her healing magic could not penetrate through Allyssa’s death, although he admitted that even his healing magic can’t penetrate the barrier of death.

The party spent the rest of the time in the afternoon with Master Searthu trying to discern Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg. In spite of Master Searthu’s ability to magically observe different locations across the Confederacy of Tongra, they were unable to pinpoint Pahk’s hiding place. Master Searthu concluded that Pahk’s location must be protected by magical viewing. He also hypothesized that if this was the case, Pahk may be concealing more than himself. Yrraxea herself may be lending Pahk the power to conceal even more cultists.

As the party passed into the largest of Fingerdale’s suburbs, they knew that their task was going to be difficult. While Shiftedburg was only slightly more than a sixth of Fingerdale’s population, it was still well over a thousand occupants. It had outgrown the farming mentality of the smaller suburbs and had already begun to develop its own cultural centers apart from Fingerdale. Shiftedburg had several taverns, inns, and diners. They also had their own town square, which was really more like that of a community park.

The party decided to head into a few of the taverns and began to subtly ask around if anyone had noticed Pahk’s arrival in the past few days. They struck out after spending a half hour in the first tavern, but managed to find a lead in the second tavern. The lead hadn’t gone well, and that was what had alerted the party to the possible connection. The bartender reacted suspiciously to the question, so they decided to pay special attention to him. It wasn’t long before they noticed the bartender excusing himself for a few minutes and slipping out the back door.

The party waited until the barkeeper had exited. They left some money on the table before heading to the front door. They quickly exited the building and split up. Charis and Semeion took the right side of the building while Rhema and Ischarus took the left side of the building. Neither group found the barkeep until they emerged into the alley that ran behind the tavern. The barkeep was hurrying down the alley to the left and had already passed the backs of several buildings.

They followed as quickly as they could, but they also didn’t want to get too close and alert the barkeep. Shortly after they began following him down the alley he turned to the left. This allowed the party the opportunity to move quickly in their pursuit. Ischarus approached the corner where the barkeep turned and peeked around the corner. The barkeeper was gone.

The party fled down the space between the buildings and back out onto the main road that passed in front of the tavern. Just as they emerged onto the main road, they saw the barkeep turn a corner and head between a pair of buildings on the opposite side of the road. They moved quickly to pick up his trail and just as they reached the corners of the buildings they saw him turn down another alleyway.

This process of moving down alleys and behind buildings continued for nearly a minute, and more than once the barkeeper passed across the main street and used the alleys to loop back on his path. He was trying to move in a manner to either lose anyone following him or to come upon them from behind as he looped back around on his trail.

Eventually the barkeeper slipped into the back door of a warehouse. Ischarus smiled as he made note of the proper door. “Now we’ve got him. Just watch out for traps.”

As they approached the door, Rhema held out a hand to stop Ischarus from opening it. “Let me scan the minds of the people inside, assuming that they are in range. I can get a hint of their state of mind.”

The other three relaxed for a moment as Rhema focused her thoughts inside. She smiled and reported her findings. “There are too many minds in there to focus intently on one, but I can say that none of them are concerned about us coming through the door right now. They seem to be frantically worried about their space.”

Ischarus smiled. “Then we’ll go in. The door can’t be trapped, we just saw the barkeeper go through it.”

Charis lifted the handle of her pick off of her belt and moved to the door. “Use it if you got it!” Her left hand touched the center of her forehead and she spoke a few magical words. “Meion Shintar.” The muscles in her arms and legs swelled, giving her greater strength. With a swift kick of her leg she split the door away from the doorjamb that held it in place. A few splinters flew into the warehouse, but largely the door simply swung in on its hinges.

Ischarus hefted his sword out of its scabbard and charged into the room behind Charis. What he saw before him was a small group of Yrraxean cultists. Most of them looked to be simple folk who had been duped by the powerful Pahk, who stood in the center of the group. Ischarus extended his hand in the direction of Pahk and called upon his magic. “Ythan Egro poisse Umaam.”

A dazzling display of colors burst forth from his extended palm and shot towards a large section of the cultist. The green, red, yellow, blue, and purple colors swirled among themselves as they passed over the people in their path like waves crashing against a rocky beach. Three of the six Yrraxeans trapped in the colors immediately crumpled to the ground.

Ischarus called out to Charis. “The ones on the ground will be unconscious for some time. Start with Pahk!”

Several of the Yrraxeans who were not caught in Ischarus’ spell dropped whatever was in their hands and began to flee for the front door to the party’s right. Pahk stood strong and drew a dagger. The other two Yrraxeans who were caught in Ischarus’ spell but not affected turned to Pahk for guidance. The lead Yrraxean smiled and commanded them. “Fight or die! Running from followers of Reah will earn you no sympathy from your queen!”

Charis moved to intercept Pahk, but not before the Yrraxean could manage to get off a spell. “Thin Zhendahl nuan Kelath!” He pointed directly at Charis as he released the magical energy.

Semeion knew that the spell was going to hurt. His mind quickly deciphered the magical command and knew to expect a powerful ball of fire. His knowledge gave him no ability to alter the spell, however. The fire exploded upon Charis and quickly filled a quarter of the warehouse in addition to blasting out of the doorway and into the alleyway where Rhema and Semeion still stood.

Semeion and Rhema were blown back by the powerful explosion. Rhema was lucky and several crates in the alleyway shielded her from the flames once the force of the explosion had blown her back. Semeion was not so lucky and he quickly found himself wrapped in a cloud of fire.

Several of the Yrraxeans who had initially moved to the door to the party’s right were also caught in the explosion. Many of them were blown off of their feet and badly burned as the fire spread across the warehouse floor. Several stacks of boxes caught fire and threatened to come crashing down to the ground above the fallen Yrraxeans.

Charis was blown forward by the assault, but she managed to keep her feet. The fire scorched her exposed skin and hair, but she continued to charge towards Pahk. She met him and easily landed a serious blow across his face. Blood streamed out of his mouth as he called the remaining Yrraxeans to his defense.

Rhema recovered from Pahk’s spell and charged into the warehouse. She quickly scanned the battlefield and knew that she could influence some control. Her mind focused on the battle between Pahk and Charis and a circular wall of ice sprang from the ground and encircled their battle. The air outside the wall immediately lowered in temperature and frost collected in the sweaty hair of the Yrraxeans who had been standing close to Pahk. The sweat on their skin began to freeze.

Charis and Pahk were unaffected by the cold inside the ring of ice. Rhema saw that her spell was affective and she called out Ischarus. “I’ve sealed the two of them inside the ice! You’ll need to take care of the rest of the cultists!”

The two Yrraxeans outside of the cold ring quickly moved away from the chilled air. They drew their swords and attempted to attack Ischarus, but his skill with his own sword was measurably greater. He easily deflected their attacks with his own sword.

Semeion collected himself and moved into the warehouse as Ischarus was attacked. He turned and ran along the wall inside the warehouse until he was able to cast a spell against the Yrraxeans fighting against Ischarus without actually catching Ischarus in the line of the spell. His mind focused on the swords that the Yrraxeans were using and he uttered his magical command. “Thin Zhendahl quas Bukrol.”

The weapons that the Yrraxeans were using shattered, as did several of the empty wooden crates behind where the Yrraxeans were standing. The exploding steel swords left minor wounds on the Yrraxeans and Ischarus, but the largest effect was the surprise impression that Semeion’s spell left on the Yrraxeans. The young mage yelled to the Yrraxeans who had come to Pahk’s defense. “Some of your brethren have chosen to flee and confess that Reah has dominated over Yrraxea. If you flee now, your lives will be spared!”

Ischarus simply grinned at the two Yrraxeans who were now weaponless. He nodded, but made no aggressive move towards them. They glanced back to Pahk, but he was busy inside the wall of ice and could offer them no direction. They turned back to Ischarus and took advantage of Semeion’s offer. They fled to the far entrance of the warehouse, avoiding as many of the smoking crates as possible.

Inside the ring of ice, Pahk turned to Charis and cast another spell. “Thin Zhentahl nienne Kelath.” A ring of fire sprang up around Pahk and encircled him. As the fire circled around Pahk, it leapt out and burned Charis’ arm. The pain was intense, but not significant.

Charis responded with a magical assault of her own. “Thin Zhendahl gat Teos.” Her hand extended towards Pahk, but she was wary of getting too close. She didn’t want to allow the fiery ring to have another chance to strike her. A ray of blinding energy burst forth from her palm and struck Pahk in the chest. Charis added insult to the injury. “You will find that Bemme is more powerful than Yrraxea.”

Pahk spat blood and spittle upon the ground and spoke while he planned his next assault. “You serve Bemme? While you are obviously misguided, my quarrel is not with you. Stand aside and I will let you live!” Pahk swung his dagger half-heartedly at Charis. Although his assault missed, the ring of fire circling him drew close enough to blast Charis with another strike.

Charis replied to Pahk’s religious assertion. “While Bemme has no official quarrel against Yrraxea, you are self-serving. Bemme’s love is charitable, and all those who seek to lift themselves above the community must be stopped.”

Pahk shrugged and smiled. “So be it! Thin Shintar tok Arash.” Pahk used a spell that Charis had seen Ischarus use a time or two. The knowledge did not help her avoid Pahk’s effect, however. A green arrow coated with acid emerged from each of Pahk’s hands and shot forward to strike Charis. Both arrows slammed into Charis’ chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

Charis had enough of trading magical blows. It was clear that Pahk was much more of a capable spell caster than most of the Wizard’s College guards had assumed. If she were going to defeat him, it would not be in a magical exchange. She lifted her shield defensively and swung hard with her pick. The pointed end struck hard and penetrated Pahk’s flimsy clothing. A pool of blood quickly formed in the clothing around his shoulder.

Pahk fell to his knees and looked up to Charis in anger. Magical words began to form on his lips as his shoulder oozed blood and plasma. Charis turned the pick a quarter turn and swung hard in an upward blow. The flat side of the pick caught Pahk under the chin and flipped him onto his back. He lay motionless on the ground.

Rhema released the ring of ice as soon as she saw Pahk fall to the ground. With her mind no longer providing the energy for the ice to exist, it dissipated quickly and the warehouse lost its cool spot. She turned and walked towards Semeion, who was trying to extinguish the flames among the wooden storage crates caused by Pahk’s earlier spell.

Ischarus had let Semeion handle the flames while he stood guard over one of the Yrraxeans who had tried to flee but instead got caught in the blast from Pahk’s fiery explosion. As the Yrraxean returned to consciousness, he was startled to see Ischarus standing over him. He quickly looked around and realized that except for Pahk the rest of his cult had fled. Pahk lay motionless on the ground, defeated.

Ischarus scowled and knelt down, holding his blade under the chin of the Yrraxean. “I’m going to assume that you got involved in this cult as a mistake. If that’s true, then your mistake can be forgiven. And if you want forgiveness, you had better explain what was happening here.”

The Yrraxean continued to sweat, and drips of his sweat ran down his face and pooled on the flat of Ischarus’ blade. “We were waiting for Allyssa. Pahk said something about the plan failing miserably. Allyssa was sent to Eberdeen. She was to return here and we were going to move to a new country.”

Ischarus smiled. “You speak vaguely, Yrraxean. What do you know of Allyssa’s mission?”

The Yrraxean shook his head slowly from side to side. “I know nothing, really. Pahk and Allyssa told us that if we supported them we would find ourselves in a new status in a few days. They promised us power and prestige.”

Ischarus looked at the Yrraxean as though he were disappointed. “Power and prestige? Where would this come from?”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard. “There are many who know that Lord Ironblood only thinks of himself. We assumed that they were planning something to remove him from power. But honestly, we were never told as much. We were simply promised power and prestige for our assistance.”

Ischarus chuckled once more. “Let’s just say that you guess is not far from home. But, they planned it to be much bigger. They planned to assassinate the king and all the leaders in Tongra. And they almost succeeded. You almost played a part in that plan. You almost played a part in the assassination of all the leaders of Tongra.”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard, obviously disturbed by Ischarus’ revelation. “But, I had no idea. I swear!”

Charis called to Ischarus and interrupted his interrogation. “I found a communiqué on Pahk.”

Rhema called from another area of the warehouse. “Read it, Charis.”

Charis nodded and replied. “Pahk. The plan is in ruins. No assassinations have occurred. We are sailing for Fenneress, where we will return to Quehalost and wait for the Queen to summon our might again. Wait for Allyssa to return and report on her assassination attempt. If she failed, rendezvous with us in Fenneress. If she succeeded, stay in Tongra and contact us. We may still succeed at revolution.”

The Yrraxean underneath Ischarus’ sword called out. “I knew nothing of it, I swear!”

Ischarus smiled. “I pray that is true, for your sake. It may mean the difference between jail and a stay at a temple for some education in the truth.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party strode into Shiftedburg an hour before the sun was to make its disappearance from the sky. It had been a long day since Allyssa’s suicide. There had been many stages in the attempt to track down Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg.

They had left Allyssa’s dead body with the king’s guard and had given them specific instructions regarding the care of the body. The party warned them that the last time Allyssa had died she had reappeared alive in Eberdeen. Once they were sure that the king’s guard would take her dead body a seriously as necessary, they used the spell that Brandt had given Semeion to indicate that they were ready to return.

Brandt was not happy to hear of Allyssa’s death, but he did not hold the event against anyone in the party. She was a formidable opponent, and the use of the poison on herself indicated that she was serious about the choice of death over capture. Brandt consoled Charis over the fact that her healing magic could not penetrate through Allyssa’s death, although he admitted that even his healing magic can’t penetrate the barrier of death.

The party spent the rest of the time in the afternoon with Master Searthu trying to discern Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg. In spite of Master Searthu’s ability to magically observe different locations across the Confederacy of Tongra, they were unable to pinpoint Pahk’s hiding place. Master Searthu concluded that Pahk’s location must be protected by magical viewing. He also hypothesized that if this was the case, Pahk may be concealing more than himself. Yrraxea herself may be lending Pahk the power to conceal even more cultists.

As the party passed into the largest of Fingerdale’s suburbs, they knew that their task was going to be difficult. While Shiftedburg was only slightly more than a sixth of Fingerdale’s population, it was still well over a thousand occupants. It had outgrown the farming mentality of the smaller suburbs and had already begun to develop its own cultural centers apart from Fingerdale. Shiftedburg had several taverns, inns, and diners. They also had their own town square, which was really more like that of a community park.

The party decided to head into a few of the taverns and began to subtly ask around if anyone had noticed Pahk’s arrival in the past few days. They struck out after spending a half hour in the first tavern, but managed to find a lead in the second tavern. The lead hadn’t gone well, and that was what had alerted the party to the possible connection. The bartender reacted suspiciously to the question, so they decided to pay special attention to him. It wasn’t long before they noticed the bartender excusing himself for a few minutes and slipping out the back door.

The party waited until the barkeeper had exited. They left some money on the table before heading to the front door. They quickly exited the building and split up. Charis and Semeion took the right side of the building while Rhema and Ischarus took the left side of the building. Neither group found the barkeep until they emerged into the alley that ran behind the tavern. The barkeep was hurrying down the alley to the left and had already passed the backs of several buildings.

They followed as quickly as they could, but they also didn’t want to get too close and alert the barkeep. Shortly after they began following him down the alley he turned to the left. This allowed the party the opportunity to move quickly in their pursuit. Ischarus approached the corner where the barkeep turned and peeked around the corner. The barkeeper was gone.

The party fled down the space between the buildings and back out onto the main road that passed in front of the tavern. Just as they emerged onto the main road, they saw the barkeep turn a corner and head between a pair of buildings on the opposite side of the road. They moved quickly to pick up his trail and just as they reached the corners of the buildings they saw him turn down another alleyway.

This process of moving down alleys and behind buildings continued for nearly a minute, and more than once the barkeeper passed across the main street and used the alleys to loop back on his path. He was trying to move in a manner to either lose anyone following him or to come upon them from behind as he looped back around on his trail.

Eventually the barkeeper slipped into the back door of a warehouse. Ischarus smiled as he made note of the proper door. “Now we’ve got him. Just watch out for traps.”

As they approached the door, Rhema held out a hand to stop Ischarus from opening it. “Let me scan the minds of the people inside, assuming that they are in range. I can get a hint of their state of mind.”

The other three relaxed for a moment as Rhema focused her thoughts inside. She smiled and reported her findings. “There are too many minds in there to focus intently on one, but I can say that none of them are concerned about us coming through the door right now. They seem to be frantically worried about their space.”

Ischarus smiled. “Then we’ll go in. The door can’t be trapped, we just saw the barkeeper go through it.”

Charis lifted the handle of her pick off of her belt and moved to the door. “Use it if you got it!” Her left hand touched the center of her forehead and she spoke a few magical words. “Meion Shintar.” The muscles in her arms and legs swelled, giving her greater strength. With a swift kick of her leg she split the door away from the doorjamb that held it in place. A few splinters flew into the warehouse, but largely the door simply swung in on its hinges.

Ischarus hefted his sword out of its scabbard and charged into the room behind Charis. What he saw before him was a small group of Yrraxean cultists. Most of them looked to be simple folk who had been duped by the powerful Pahk, who stood in the center of the group. Ischarus extended his hand in the direction of Pahk and called upon his magic. “Ythan Egro poisse Umaam.”

A dazzling display of colors burst forth from his extended palm and shot towards a large section of the cultist. The green, red, yellow, blue, and purple colors swirled among themselves as they passed over the people in their path like waves crashing against a rocky beach. Three of the six Yrraxeans trapped in the colors immediately crumpled to the ground.

Ischarus called out to Charis. “The ones on the ground will be unconscious for some time. Start with Pahk!”

Several of the Yrraxeans who were not caught in Ischarus’ spell dropped whatever was in their hands and began to flee for the front door to the party’s right. Pahk stood strong and drew a dagger. The other two Yrraxeans who were caught in Ischarus’ spell but not affected turned to Pahk for guidance. The lead Yrraxean smiled and commanded them. “Fight or die! Running from followers of Reah will earn you no sympathy from your queen!”

Charis moved to intercept Pahk, but not before the Yrraxean could manage to get off a spell. “Thin Zhendahl nuan Kelath!” He pointed directly at Charis as he released the magical energy.

Semeion knew that the spell was going to hurt. His mind quickly deciphered the magical command and knew to expect a powerful ball of fire. His knowledge gave him no ability to alter the spell, however. The fire exploded upon Charis and quickly filled a quarter of the warehouse in addition to blasting out of the doorway and into the alleyway where Rhema and Semeion still stood.

Semeion and Rhema were blown back by the powerful explosion. Rhema was lucky and several crates in the alleyway shielded her from the flames once the force of the explosion had blown her back. Semeion was not so lucky and he quickly found himself wrapped in a cloud of fire.

Several of the Yrraxeans who had initially moved to the door to the party’s right were also caught in the explosion. Many of them were blown off of their feet and badly burned as the fire spread across the warehouse floor. Several stacks of boxes caught fire and threatened to come crashing down to the ground above the fallen Yrraxeans.

Charis was blown forward by the assault, but she managed to keep her feet. The fire scorched her exposed skin and hair, but she continued to charge towards Pahk. She met him and easily landed a serious blow across his face. Blood streamed out of his mouth as he called the remaining Yrraxeans to his defense.

Rhema recovered from Pahk’s spell and charged into the warehouse. She quickly scanned the battlefield and knew that she could influence some control. Her mind focused on the battle between Pahk and Charis and a circular wall of ice sprang from the ground and encircled their battle. The air outside the wall immediately lowered in temperature and frost collected in the sweaty hair of the Yrraxeans who had been standing close to Pahk. The sweat on their skin began to freeze.

Charis and Pahk were unaffected by the cold inside the ring of ice. Rhema saw that her spell was affective and she called out Ischarus. “I’ve sealed the two of them inside the ice! You’ll need to take care of the rest of the cultists!”

The two Yrraxeans outside of the cold ring quickly moved away from the chilled air. They drew their swords and attempted to attack Ischarus, but his skill with his own sword was measurably greater. He easily deflected their attacks with his own sword.

Semeion collected himself and moved into the warehouse as Ischarus was attacked. He turned and ran along the wall inside the warehouse until he was able to cast a spell against the Yrraxeans fighting against Ischarus without actually catching Ischarus in the line of the spell. His mind focused on the swords that the Yrraxeans were using and he uttered his magical command. “Thin Zhendahl quas Bukrol.”

The weapons that the Yrraxeans were using shattered, as did several of the empty wooden crates behind where the Yrraxeans were standing. The exploding steel swords left minor wounds on the Yrraxeans and Ischarus, but the largest effect was the surprise impression that Semeion’s spell left on the Yrraxeans. The young mage yelled to the Yrraxeans who had come to Pahk’s defense. “Some of your brethren have chosen to flee and confess that Reah has dominated over Yrraxea. If you flee now, your lives will be spared!”

Ischarus simply grinned at the two Yrraxeans who were now weaponless. He nodded, but made no aggressive move towards them. They glanced back to Pahk, but he was busy inside the wall of ice and could offer them no direction. They turned back to Ischarus and took advantage of Semeion’s offer. They fled to the far entrance of the warehouse, avoiding as many of the smoking crates as possible.

Inside the ring of ice, Pahk turned to Charis and cast another spell. “Thin Zhentahl nienne Kelath.” A ring of fire sprang up around Pahk and encircled him. As the fire circled around Pahk, it leapt out and burned Charis’ arm. The pain was intense, but not significant.

Charis responded with a magical assault of her own. “Thin Zhendahl gat Teos.” Her hand extended towards Pahk, but she was wary of getting too close. She didn’t want to allow the fiery ring to have another chance to strike her. A ray of blinding energy burst forth from her palm and struck Pahk in the chest. Charis added insult to the injury. “You will find that Bemme is more powerful than Yrraxea.”

Pahk spat blood and spittle upon the ground and spoke while he planned his next assault. “You serve Bemme? While you are obviously misguided, my quarrel is not with you. Stand aside and I will let you live!” Pahk swung his dagger half-heartedly at Charis. Although his assault missed, the ring of fire circling him drew close enough to blast Charis with another strike.

Charis replied to Pahk’s religious assertion. “While Bemme has no official quarrel against Yrraxea, you are self-serving. Bemme’s love is charitable, and all those who seek to lift themselves above the community must be stopped.”

Pahk shrugged and smiled. “So be it! Thin Shintar tok Arash.” Pahk used a spell that Charis had seen Ischarus use a time or two. The knowledge did not help her avoid Pahk’s effect, however. A green arrow coated with acid emerged from each of Pahk’s hands and shot forward to strike Charis. Both arrows slammed into Charis’ chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

Charis had enough of trading magical blows. It was clear that Pahk was much more of a capable spell caster than most of the Wizard’s College guards had assumed. If she were going to defeat him, it would not be in a magical exchange. She lifted her shield defensively and swung hard with her pick. The pointed end struck hard and penetrated Pahk’s flimsy clothing. A pool of blood quickly formed in the clothing around his shoulder.

Pahk fell to his knees and looked up to Charis in anger. Magical words began to form on his lips as his shoulder oozed blood and plasma. Charis turned the pick a quarter turn and swung hard in an upward blow. The flat side of the pick caught Pahk under the chin and flipped him onto his back. He lay motionless on the ground.

Rhema released the ring of ice as soon as she saw Pahk fall to the ground. With her mind no longer providing the energy for the ice to exist, it dissipated quickly and the warehouse lost its cool spot. She turned and walked towards Semeion, who was trying to extinguish the flames among the wooden storage crates caused by Pahk’s earlier spell.

Ischarus had let Semeion handle the flames while he stood guard over one of the Yrraxeans who had tried to flee but instead got caught in the blast from Pahk’s fiery explosion. As the Yrraxean returned to consciousness, he was startled to see Ischarus standing over him. He quickly looked around and realized that except for Pahk the rest of his cult had fled. Pahk lay motionless on the ground, defeated.

Ischarus scowled and knelt down, holding his blade under the chin of the Yrraxean. “I’m going to assume that you got involved in this cult as a mistake. If that’s true, then your mistake can be forgiven. And if you want forgiveness, you had better explain what was happening here.”

The Yrraxean continued to sweat, and drips of his sweat ran down his face and pooled on the flat of Ischarus’ blade. “We were waiting for Allyssa. Pahk said something about the plan failing miserably. Allyssa was sent to Eberdeen. She was to return here and we were going to move to a new country.”

Ischarus smiled. “You speak vaguely, Yrraxean. What do you know of Allyssa’s mission?”

The Yrraxean shook his head slowly from side to side. “I know nothing, really. Pahk and Allyssa told us that if we supported them we would find ourselves in a new status in a few days. They promised us power and prestige.”

Ischarus looked at the Yrraxean as though he were disappointed. “Power and prestige? Where would this come from?”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard. “There are many who know that Lord Ironblood only thinks of himself. We assumed that they were planning something to remove him from power. But honestly, we were never told as much. We were simply promised power and prestige for our assistance.”

Ischarus chuckled once more. “Let’s just say that you guess is not far from home. But, they planned it to be much bigger. They planned to assassinate the king and all the leaders in Tongra. And they almost succeeded. You almost played a part in that plan. You almost played a part in the assassination of all the leaders of Tongra.”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard, obviously disturbed by Ischarus’ revelation. “But, I had no idea. I swear!”

Charis called to Ischarus and interrupted his interrogation. “I found a communiqué on Pahk.”

Rhema called from another area of the warehouse. “Read it, Charis.”

Charis nodded and replied. “Pahk. The plan is in ruins. No assassinations have occurred. We are sailing for Fenneress, where we will return to Quehalost and wait for the Queen to summon our might again. Wait for Allyssa to return and report on her assassination attempt. If she failed, rendezvous with us in Fenneress. If she succeeded, stay in Tongra and contact us. We may still succeed at revolution.”

The Yrraxean underneath Ischarus’ sword called out. “I knew nothing of it, I swear!”

Ischarus smiled. “I pray that is true, for your sake. It may mean the difference between jail and a stay at a temple for some education in the truth.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Fourteen: PROMISING RESPITE

Semeion and Charis woke up early the following morning. They had slept restlessly back in Iasho’s partially completed villa in Huetown. Much of the structure of the house was built and many of the rooms were defined with walls, doors, and windows. In spite of the state of the construction, it didn’t feel like home to Semeion and Charis. It felt too barren to be a home.

It was Charis’ fidgeting that ultimately had woken Semeion, but Semeion was glad to be roused from his own restless sleep. The disturbing activity involving the discovery of the cultists and their plans of the last few days had given him troubling dreams. When Charis decided to get out of bed for the morning, Semeion woke up and decided that her decision made good sense for him as well.

The pair headed downstairs and stoked the fire in the stone and mortar chimney. Charis gathered a few thick pieces of wood from the stack outside while Semeion sorted the warm coals from the cool ones. By the time Charis returned with the wood, Semeion had a small pile of red coals waiting for the opportunity to ignite more wood. Charis arranged the wood in a simple structure that resembled a lean-to shelter. The wood smoldered for several minutes before igniting. Soon the wood crackled and gave forth its warmth.

Ischarus’ voice caught the pair by surprise from behind. “Coffee?”

Both Semeion and Charis jumped at the sound of the voice. Semeion turned around and smiled. “I think you enjoyed that.” He paused for a second to nod in favor of Ischarus’ suggestion before taking the conversation in a new direction. “Didn’t you sleep well either?”

Ischarus smiled. “No, not particularly. Too many nights on the road, I guess. I never sleep well the first couple of nights back in Huetown. I guess my body just gets used to sleeping lightly and I struggle to get a good night’s sleep.”

Charis smiled compassionately. “I found the house a little disturbing. It’s just too empty to feel right.”

Ischarus approved of Charis’ comment. “Yeah, but you can’t really blame Iasho for keeping the house as bare as possible until the construction is completed in full.” Ischarus grabbed a thick metal pot and headed outside. He was going for the water. Iasho hadn’t had time to install a water tank so that they could have a reservoir of water inside.

Semeion tended the fire while Charis walked over to a cabinet hanging on the wall. She opened a large burlap bag and pulled out a handful of roasted coffee beans. She lifted a small marble mortar and pestle off of a shelf and began to grind the beans into a rough powder. By the time Ischarus had returned with the pot of water, Rhema was ready with the beans. She dumped them straight into the water.

Iasho moved to the stone and mortar chimney and hung the pot from a nail that had been secured between a pair of large stones. The bottom of the pot hung only inches above the flames and in a prime position to absorb direct heat from the fire as well as indirect heat reflecting off of the interior of the chimney.

The smell of the brewing coffee woke several of the servants. As was Iasho’s tradition, the servants remained in the kitchen and waited for their morning coffee before heading out to work in the fields while breakfast was being prepared. If the weather behaved, several of the servants would continue to work on the house while the rest tried to work in the field with the crops that had been replanted.

Once the servants had departed and the trio had their coffee to sip, Ischarus sat down on the floor atop a cushion. “The crops look good, considering. You know we never really found out how the damage was done.”

Semeion shrugged. “I doubt we’ll ever know the whole truth. Pahk certainly demonstrated that he has control over fire. The wizard of Eberdeen certainly could have sent him here to accomplish that fact.”

A twinkle sparkled in Charis eye as she enjoyed a sip of the warm brew. “Personally, I’m thinking that it was dragon. I know that it would be hard for a fire breathing lizard to get this far north undetected, but they could have come over the sea and down from the north.”

Semeion countered his wife’s suggestion, too. “Possible, although that would be a long flight for a dragon. To come from Quehalost and over the mountains would be a feat for a fire breather. They wouldn’t like the cold temperature of the altitude. Then, I doubt they would enjoy flying over that much water, either. But it is possible, should the payoff have been worth it.”

Ischarus chimed in with his own dragon knowledge. “I suppose it could have been a breather of lightning as well. After all, natural lightning can be a deadly fire starter. However, I can’t see a dragon who breathes lightning enjoying a flight over all that water that much either.”

Charis turned back to Ischarus. “Well, I obviously put my money on the dragon who swoops in to do a wizard of Yrraxea’s bidding. Neither of you two seems to think it very possible. Semeion thinks it was a magical fire. What do you say, Ischarus?”

Ischarus shrugged. “Honestly? For all I know it could have been Darkbringer and a series of matches and flammable liquid. It could have been something powerful like a dragon or something magical. But it could be a mundane source, too. I think Semeion is right. I doubt that we’ll ever truly know.”

Charis accepted what she knew was the truth. “So, are we staying around the villa today and helping rebuild? That would be a nice change considering the past couple of weeks of action.”

Ischarus smiled. He thought of his wife still sleeping in the upstairs bedroom. “For Rhema’s sake and for Iasho, I’d really like to stick around. We’ve been running all over the Confederacy of Tongra when our hearts really wanted to be here for Rhema and Iasho. I think it would do us good to stick around.”

Semeion looked a little disappointed. “I wouldn’t mind going it to see Brandt and making sure the business is settled. But I certainly can’t object to staying around here.

Charis reached over and put her arm around Semeion’s shoulders. “Brandt knows where to find us. In fact, Brandt’s shared a meal or two with us around the cooking pits. If something comes up, he’ll let us know. But most of the Yrraxeans in Shiftedburg will scatter, and hopefully give up their faith for a more acceptable one. Many of the other Yrraxeans have fled the country for Quehalost, as unsettling as that thought might be. We should be safe for a while.”

Semeion settled back into Charis’ embrace with a smile on his face. Ischarus chuckled at Charis’ assertion. “Famous last words, Charis. I hope that you’re right, but I fear that you just jinxed us! Either way, though, can you imagine sailing the whole way to Fenneress knowing that your home destination is Quehalost?”

Charis nodded. That was the point to which she was trying to get. “Yeah, I understand. I lived there for a few decades, and I’m glad to be on this side of the mountains. Life in Quehalost is so physically dangerous. I mean, here we have dangers, but seldom are they ever totally life or death. In Quehalost, almost every day can be life or death.”

A silence fell over the trio. Charis had been with them for so long now that Ischarus and Semeion had forgotten how closely Charis would still remember her life in Quehalost. When she reminded her husband and Ischarus, it placed the conversation in a new perspective. The three adventurers, who were gathered around the fire and seated on cushions on the floor, each sipped their coffee while deep in thought. It was a good morning to relax deep in thought.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Fourteen: PROMISING RESPITE

Semeion and Charis woke up early the following morning. They had slept restlessly back in Iasho’s partially completed villa in Huetown. Much of the structure of the house was built and many of the rooms were defined with walls, doors, and windows. In spite of the state of the construction, it didn’t feel like home to Semeion and Charis. It felt too barren to be a home.

It was Charis’ fidgeting that ultimately had woken Semeion, but Semeion was glad to be roused from his own restless sleep. The disturbing activity involving the discovery of the cultists and their plans of the last few days had given him troubling dreams. When Charis decided to get out of bed for the morning, Semeion woke up and decided that her decision made good sense for him as well.

The pair headed downstairs and stoked the fire in the stone and mortar chimney. Charis gathered a few thick pieces of wood from the stack outside while Semeion sorted the warm coals from the cool ones. By the time Charis returned with the wood, Semeion had a small pile of red coals waiting for the opportunity to ignite more wood. Charis arranged the wood in a simple structure that resembled a lean-to shelter. The wood smoldered for several minutes before igniting. Soon the wood crackled and gave forth its warmth.

Ischarus’ voice caught the pair by surprise from behind. “Coffee?”

Both Semeion and Charis jumped at the sound of the voice. Semeion turned around and smiled. “I think you enjoyed that.” He paused for a second to nod in favor of Ischarus’ suggestion before taking the conversation in a new direction. “Didn’t you sleep well either?”

Ischarus smiled. “No, not particularly. Too many nights on the road, I guess. I never sleep well the first couple of nights back in Huetown. I guess my body just gets used to sleeping lightly and I struggle to get a good night’s sleep.”

Charis smiled compassionately. “I found the house a little disturbing. It’s just too empty to feel right.”

Ischarus approved of Charis’ comment. “Yeah, but you can’t really blame Iasho for keeping the house as bare as possible until the construction is completed in full.” Ischarus grabbed a thick metal pot and headed outside. He was going for the water. Iasho hadn’t had time to install a water tank so that they could have a reservoir of water inside.

Semeion tended the fire while Charis walked over to a cabinet hanging on the wall. She opened a large burlap bag and pulled out a handful of roasted coffee beans. She lifted a small marble mortar and pestle off of a shelf and began to grind the beans into a rough powder. By the time Ischarus had returned with the pot of water, Rhema was ready with the beans. She dumped them straight into the water.

Iasho moved to the stone and mortar chimney and hung the pot from a nail that had been secured between a pair of large stones. The bottom of the pot hung only inches above the flames and in a prime position to absorb direct heat from the fire as well as indirect heat reflecting off of the interior of the chimney.

The smell of the brewing coffee woke several of the servants. As was Iasho’s tradition, the servants remained in the kitchen and waited for their morning coffee before heading out to work in the fields while breakfast was being prepared. If the weather behaved, several of the servants would continue to work on the house while the rest tried to work in the field with the crops that had been replanted.

Once the servants had departed and the trio had their coffee to sip, Ischarus sat down on the floor atop a cushion. “The crops look good, considering. You know we never really found out how the damage was done.”

Semeion shrugged. “I doubt we’ll ever know the whole truth. Pahk certainly demonstrated that he has control over fire. The wizard of Eberdeen certainly could have sent him here to accomplish that fact.”

A twinkle sparkled in Charis eye as she enjoyed a sip of the warm brew. “Personally, I’m thinking that it was dragon. I know that it would be hard for a fire breathing lizard to get this far north undetected, but they could have come over the sea and down from the north.”

Semeion countered his wife’s suggestion, too. “Possible, although that would be a long flight for a dragon. To come from Quehalost and over the mountains would be a feat for a fire breather. They wouldn’t like the cold temperature of the altitude. Then, I doubt they would enjoy flying over that much water, either. But it is possible, should the payoff have been worth it.”

Ischarus chimed in with his own dragon knowledge. “I suppose it could have been a breather of lightning as well. After all, natural lightning can be a deadly fire starter. However, I can’t see a dragon who breathes lightning enjoying a flight over all that water that much either.”

Charis turned back to Ischarus. “Well, I obviously put my money on the dragon who swoops in to do a wizard of Yrraxea’s bidding. Neither of you two seems to think it very possible. Semeion thinks it was a magical fire. What do you say, Ischarus?”

Ischarus shrugged. “Honestly? For all I know it could have been Darkbringer and a series of matches and flammable liquid. It could have been something powerful like a dragon or something magical. But it could be a mundane source, too. I think Semeion is right. I doubt that we’ll ever truly know.”

Charis accepted what she knew was the truth. “So, are we staying around the villa today and helping rebuild? That would be a nice change considering the past couple of weeks of action.”

Ischarus smiled. He thought of his wife still sleeping in the upstairs bedroom. “For Rhema’s sake and for Iasho, I’d really like to stick around. We’ve been running all over the Confederacy of Tongra when our hearts really wanted to be here for Rhema and Iasho. I think it would do us good to stick around.”

Semeion looked a little disappointed. “I wouldn’t mind going it to see Brandt and making sure the business is settled. But I certainly can’t object to staying around here.

Charis reached over and put her arm around Semeion’s shoulders. “Brandt knows where to find us. In fact, Brandt’s shared a meal or two with us around the cooking pits. If something comes up, he’ll let us know. But most of the Yrraxeans in Shiftedburg will scatter, and hopefully give up their faith for a more acceptable one. Many of the other Yrraxeans have fled the country for Quehalost, as unsettling as that thought might be. We should be safe for a while.”

Semeion settled back into Charis’ embrace with a smile on his face. Ischarus chuckled at Charis’ assertion. “Famous last words, Charis. I hope that you’re right, but I fear that you just jinxed us! Either way, though, can you imagine sailing the whole way to Fenneress knowing that your home destination is Quehalost?”

Charis nodded. That was the point to which she was trying to get. “Yeah, I understand. I lived there for a few decades, and I’m glad to be on this side of the mountains. Life in Quehalost is so physically dangerous. I mean, here we have dangers, but seldom are they ever totally life or death. In Quehalost, almost every day can be life or death.”

A silence fell over the trio. Charis had been with them for so long now that Ischarus and Semeion had forgotten how closely Charis would still remember her life in Quehalost. When she reminded her husband and Ischarus, it placed the conversation in a new perspective. The three adventurers, who were gathered around the fire and seated on cushions on the floor, each sipped their coffee while deep in thought. It was a good morning to relax deep in thought.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Iasho was the second to last to wake in the house. It was unusual for him to sleep so long after his servants had woken for the morning. By the time he rose from his bed and joined the trio in the great room below they were on their second pot of boiled coffee. The trio nodded to him as he descended the stairs from above.

Ischarus looked to his father-in-law. “Your daughter is sleeping late, Iasho. Later than you on this day!” The light humor in the morning was met with a smile as Ischarus handed a mug to Iasho. The mug had been warming by the fire so that when coffee was poured into it the drink wouldn’t cool so fast.

Iasho accepted the mug and allowed a slight yawn to slip through his lips. “Thank you, Ischarus. I never sleep well when you all are away from the villa. When you return safely, I think I finally relax. Some of the best nights of sleeping I’ve ever had are the nights that you all come home.”

Charis gave Iasho an appreciative smile, but Semeion hid his appreciation in a joke. “Are you telling us that we need to leave more often so that we can return more often and you can sleep well?”

The four people in the room laughed, and Ischarus reached for the warm pot in order to pour Iasho some coffee. Charis caught Iasho’s earlier yawn and accepted the fact that it made her need to yawn as well. Once she had completed the yawn, she continued the conversation. “As for me, I felt restless. I’m not sure that it was newness of the house as much as the stress of the last few days.”

Iasho looked out a window to the servants toiling in the fields. “Nothing that a hard day’s work in the sun won’t fix, Charis. I always raised Rhema to believe that the best way to relieve stress and anxiety is to go and work with the ground. If you spend enough time on your hands and knees pulling out weeds, your mind will forget almost everything that seeks to distract it.”

Charis smiled at the sentiment. It was a subtle clue, but not officially directed in her direction. Iasho always welcomed the party’s help with the work of the villa, but it was never demanded. They helped out in their own ways. However, Charis also knew that many of the servants remaining on the villa were spawn of a dragon like herself. The weeds that she pulled wouldn’t matter in the long run. The teaching, compassion, and conversation that occurred as she spent time with the servants in the field would matter.

Iasho turned to Ischarus as he grabbed a large skillet from a hook where it hung. “When Rhema wakes, and she’ll wake once she smells breakfast, would the two of you go to the butcher in Huetown and purchase a few chickens? I’ve not bought much meat from the butcher in a few weeks, and he could use the money. Besides, I’d like to use the roasting pit again. It is time to warm the hearts of the servants. Perhaps I’ll give them some time off this afternoon in preparation for a feast.”

Ischarus accepted the task with pleasure. “Of course, Iasho. Would you like me to start a fire to warm the stones so that the roasting pit is warmed while we’re away?”

Iasho cracked open two eggs on the side of the skillet, and his back was to Ischarus. “If you have the time, that would be ideal.” He reached for two more eggs. The amount of food that would be needed to feed the family and the servants would be imposing for the skillet.

Ischarus listened to the crack of the eggs on the side of the skillet and he was reminded of the spirit of Iasho’s words. The eggs were raised here by Iasho, and he had plenty of chickens to spare. He could have easily sent Ischarus out to catch a few of them on the villa and clean them. There was no real need to buy the chickens from the butcher other than to find a way to get the butcher some money. He smiled at yet another subtle way in which Iasho cared for the people around him. Ischarus was lucky to have been led here so many years ago. He had found Rhema, of course, but he had managed to learn quite a bit from her father as well.

Ischarus stood and began to walk towards the door when he heard the sound of footsteps upon the stairs behind him. There was only one person who hadn’t come down, so he decided to stop and wait for his wife to join them. When she appeared in the great room, she looked groggy, as if she had slept hard and woke suddenly. She smiled half-heartedly and crossed the room to where Ischarus stood. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sunk her head into his chest. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the smell of her husband.

Ischarus returned the embrace by putting his own arms around her. “I was about to go and light a fire to warm some stones during breakfast. Then we’ll get the roasting pit warming and head off to buy a few chickens from the butcher.”

Rhema nodded, refusing to open her eyes again. Ischarus hugged her tightly and then released her, indicating that it was time that she released him as well. She complied, and Ischarus kissed her on her forehead. “Coffee is in the fire in the chimney, and there are warm mugs beside the fire. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

Rhema turned and walked groggily towards the fire and poured herself a mug of coffee. When she had sipped it to make sure that the taste was satisfying, she found the pillow that had been used by Ischarus and settled upon it. She was content for now to let the coffee rouse her from her sleepy haze. She was enjoying the spreading smell of the eggs and onion cooking in the skillet.

Charis stood up and walked past Rhema. She ruffled her hair in a greeting as she moved by her. “Iasho, can I put out some fruit for breakfast?”

Iasho nodded. “Breakfast will be ready in about fifteen minutes. You can set out a basket of fruit if you’d like. Sort it, though, so that the ripest fruit is first.”

Charis grinned as Iasho gave her instructions as though she were a child. It wasn’t his fault. Part of running the villa meant that his servants would need training in most aspects of civilized life on the villa, and Iasho gave instruction out of habit rather than feeling it necessary for the situation. Charis replied with a tease in her voice. “As always.”

Rhema turned back to Semeion. “Any word from Brandt, yet?”

Semeion sipped a bit of coffee and leaned backwards. “Nothing, but it is still early. The king’s men were sent to search for the Yrraxeans, but the Yrraxeans did have a head start. We might not hear from Brandt for a few days.”

Rhema nodded and sipped a few more times. As the coffee brought her into a better state of awareness, she rose up and walked over to a window to check on Ischarus. The fire was nearly built and ready to be lit. Ischarus had even gathered up the stones for burial in the roasting pit. Rhema rested her mug on a shelf beside the fire and grabbed a torch. She held the torch head in the flames for a few seconds until the oil soaked cloth caught fire. She strutted outside with the torch.

She caught Ischarus’ eye as she exited the building and he smiled at her. Rhema returned the smile. “Breakfast is almost ready, and I’ve brought you a firestarter. You looked about ready for it.”

Ischarus gestured to the fire. “Be my guest! The fire’s ready, and the stones will warm up while we eat, then.”

Rhema stuck the lighted end of the torch to the base of the fire and the kindling was quick to catch. Soon, the fire burned brightly, warming the roasting stones. Rhema turned the torch over and almost thrust it into a pail of sand. The sand was there to smother the flames safely and extinguish the fire. She hesitated for a moment and smiled. She turned the torch back to an upright position and looked to the flame. Through a force of will she focused on flickering. For no apparent physical reason, the flames on the torch extinguished themselves and a thin wisp of smoke curled upwards into the air.

Ischarus smiled and nodded to the door. Iasho appeared and rang the first bell. Breakfast would be ready in a few minutes. It was time for the servants to come in from the fields.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Iasho was the second to last to wake in the house. It was unusual for him to sleep so long after his servants had woken for the morning. By the time he rose from his bed and joined the trio in the great room below they were on their second pot of boiled coffee. The trio nodded to him as he descended the stairs from above.

Ischarus looked to his father-in-law. “Your daughter is sleeping late, Iasho. Later than you on this day!” The light humor in the morning was met with a smile as Ischarus handed a mug to Iasho. The mug had been warming by the fire so that when coffee was poured into it the drink wouldn’t cool so fast.

Iasho accepted the mug and allowed a slight yawn to slip through his lips. “Thank you, Ischarus. I never sleep well when you all are away from the villa. When you return safely, I think I finally relax. Some of the best nights of sleeping I’ve ever had are the nights that you all come home.”

Charis gave Iasho an appreciative smile, but Semeion hid his appreciation in a joke. “Are you telling us that we need to leave more often so that we can return more often and you can sleep well?”

The four people in the room laughed, and Ischarus reached for the warm pot in order to pour Iasho some coffee. Charis caught Iasho’s earlier yawn and accepted the fact that it made her need to yawn as well. Once she had completed the yawn, she continued the conversation. “As for me, I felt restless. I’m not sure that it was newness of the house as much as the stress of the last few days.”

Iasho looked out a window to the servants toiling in the fields. “Nothing that a hard day’s work in the sun won’t fix, Charis. I always raised Rhema to believe that the best way to relieve stress and anxiety is to go and work with the ground. If you spend enough time on your hands and knees pulling out weeds, your mind will forget almost everything that seeks to distract it.”

Charis smiled at the sentiment. It was a subtle clue, but not officially directed in her direction. Iasho always welcomed the party’s help with the work of the villa, but it was never demanded. They helped out in their own ways. However, Charis also knew that many of the servants remaining on the villa were spawn of a dragon like herself. The weeds that she pulled wouldn’t matter in the long run. The teaching, compassion, and conversation that occurred as she spent time with the servants in the field would matter.

Iasho turned to Ischarus as he grabbed a large skillet from a hook where it hung. “When Rhema wakes, and she’ll wake once she smells breakfast, would the two of you go to the butcher in Huetown and purchase a few chickens? I’ve not bought much meat from the butcher in a few weeks, and he could use the money. Besides, I’d like to use the roasting pit again. It is time to warm the hearts of the servants. Perhaps I’ll give them some time off this afternoon in preparation for a feast.”

Ischarus accepted the task with pleasure. “Of course, Iasho. Would you like me to start a fire to warm the stones so that the roasting pit is warmed while we’re away?”

Iasho cracked open two eggs on the side of the skillet, and his back was to Ischarus. “If you have the time, that would be ideal.” He reached for two more eggs. The amount of food that would be needed to feed the family and the servants would be imposing for the skillet.

Ischarus listened to the crack of the eggs on the side of the skillet and he was reminded of the spirit of Iasho’s words. The eggs were raised here by Iasho, and he had plenty of chickens to spare. He could have easily sent Ischarus out to catch a few of them on the villa and clean them. There was no real need to buy the chickens from the butcher other than to find a way to get the butcher some money. He smiled at yet another subtle way in which Iasho cared for the people around him. Ischarus was lucky to have been led here so many years ago. He had found Rhema, of course, but he had managed to learn quite a bit from her father as well.

Ischarus stood and began to walk towards the door when he heard the sound of footsteps upon the stairs behind him. There was only one person who hadn’t come down, so he decided to stop and wait for his wife to join them. When she appeared in the great room, she looked groggy, as if she had slept hard and woke suddenly. She smiled half-heartedly and crossed the room to where Ischarus stood. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sunk her head into his chest. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the smell of her husband.

Ischarus returned the embrace by putting his own arms around her. “I was about to go and light a fire to warm some stones during breakfast. Then we’ll get the roasting pit warming and head off to buy a few chickens from the butcher.”

Rhema nodded, refusing to open her eyes again. Ischarus hugged her tightly and then released her, indicating that it was time that she released him as well. She complied, and Ischarus kissed her on her forehead. “Coffee is in the fire in the chimney, and there are warm mugs beside the fire. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

Rhema turned and walked groggily towards the fire and poured herself a mug of coffee. When she had sipped it to make sure that the taste was satisfying, she found the pillow that had been used by Ischarus and settled upon it. She was content for now to let the coffee rouse her from her sleepy haze. She was enjoying the spreading smell of the eggs and onion cooking in the skillet.

Charis stood up and walked past Rhema. She ruffled her hair in a greeting as she moved by her. “Iasho, can I put out some fruit for breakfast?”

Iasho nodded. “Breakfast will be ready in about fifteen minutes. You can set out a basket of fruit if you’d like. Sort it, though, so that the ripest fruit is first.”

Charis grinned as Iasho gave her instructions as though she were a child. It wasn’t his fault. Part of running the villa meant that his servants would need training in most aspects of civilized life on the villa, and Iasho gave instruction out of habit rather than feeling it necessary for the situation. Charis replied with a tease in her voice. “As always.”

Rhema turned back to Semeion. “Any word from Brandt, yet?”

Semeion sipped a bit of coffee and leaned backwards. “Nothing, but it is still early. The king’s men were sent to search for the Yrraxeans, but the Yrraxeans did have a head start. We might not hear from Brandt for a few days.”

Rhema nodded and sipped a few more times. As the coffee brought her into a better state of awareness, she rose up and walked over to a window to check on Ischarus. The fire was nearly built and ready to be lit. Ischarus had even gathered up the stones for burial in the roasting pit. Rhema rested her mug on a shelf beside the fire and grabbed a torch. She held the torch head in the flames for a few seconds until the oil soaked cloth caught fire. She strutted outside with the torch.

She caught Ischarus’ eye as she exited the building and he smiled at her. Rhema returned the smile. “Breakfast is almost ready, and I’ve brought you a firestarter. You looked about ready for it.”

Ischarus gestured to the fire. “Be my guest! The fire’s ready, and the stones will warm up while we eat, then.”

Rhema stuck the lighted end of the torch to the base of the fire and the kindling was quick to catch. Soon, the fire burned brightly, warming the roasting stones. Rhema turned the torch over and almost thrust it into a pail of sand. The sand was there to smother the flames safely and extinguish the fire. She hesitated for a moment and smiled. She turned the torch back to an upright position and looked to the flame. Through a force of will she focused on flickering. For no apparent physical reason, the flames on the torch extinguished themselves and a thin wisp of smoke curled upwards into the air.

Ischarus smiled and nodded to the door. Iasho appeared and rang the first bell. Breakfast would be ready in a few minutes. It was time for the servants to come in from the fields.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

After breakfast was finished, Ischarus and Rhema headed into the small village of Huetown in order to seek out the butcher and purchase a healthy stock of poultry for the roasting pit. There was to be a festival now that the foursome was planning on staying home for some time to recuperate.

Iasho had decided to give the workers half of the afternoon off in preparation of the festival, and the mere mention of the ease of work lifted the spirits of all. When breakfast was over, the workers once more went into the fields, but their burden of work was lifted by the promised rest. Granted, the workers all knew that Iasho was not a hard master to serve, but they also knew that it would be nice to not have to spend all day in the sun as well.

Charis decided that she would join the workers in the field for the rest of the morning and the afternoon. Iasho’s earlier comment had convinced her that she needed to be with the people. Many of those working on the villa looked up to her since she was one of them. Like them, she had been rescued from Quehalost and brought into freedom. She had to learn a new language and a new lifestyle. She had to learn how to handle freedom and accountability. She had to learn how to cast off oppression forever. She knew what it was like to go through what the workers were learning.

Of course, Charis knew all of the workers by name. Those who were left on the villa had been to Ausaphaborishan’s Valley for the wedding. These were the ones who had returned after the celebration and began the process of replanting and rebuilding. It had been a harder summer than most, and Charis loved these workers all the more for it.

Charis stood at the edge of the field and looked as the workers spread out down the rows. She turned back to the house, but Semeion hadn’t joined her. He was more interested in the academics of rebuilding the villa. He wanted to oversee portions of the building process and help where he could. Charis turned back to the field and found the woman that she was looking for.

Charis walked across the dirt of the field. Earlier in the summer, she would have sunk into the rich soil. However, the sun and the footsteps of the many workers had since compressed the tilled soil into solid walking paths. The woman looked up to Charis as she approached. Although Charis had approached from the woman’s back, the woman was aware of her approach through the subtle vibrations in the soil. Soft soil would have disguised Charis’ approach, but the compacted dirt transferred small sensations to the woman’s fingers and legs as she knelt on the ground and worked with the plants.

Charis greeted the woman. “Tija, I’m glad I found you.”

The woman nodded and smiled brightly. Although her face was muddied from where Tija had used her dirty fingers to wipe sweat away, her teeth shined brightly in the sun. “And I am glad to see you safe and returned, Provenience.”

Charis winced at the title. Most of the workers on the villa had stopped using it in reference to her, but Tija refused to quit. Charis was grateful that Semeion had stayed near the house, because the use of the title didn’t make him happy. To someone born in Tongra or any of the other free lands, the title only reminded them of the cruel bondage of Quehalost. However, Charis knew that to Tija it was a means of constantly thanking Charis for coming back to free them. Charis nodded politely once she had recovered from the use of the name. “Tija, you are free now. You are learning how to live in a world where you make the decisions and you are accountable for your actions. You do not need to call me Provenience. I have no power over you.”

Tija turned back to the plant that she was working on. “I hear that you and your friends have once more stopped a power of Quehalost from taking control. You deserve honor.”

Charis blushed at the praise and knelt beside her. They were being listened to by many of the workers around them. She knew that these were the conversations that Iasho valued. The weeds that she pulled would be one thing, but they would eventually grow back. The values that Charis could teach to the villa workers would never fail. She thrust her index finger into the ground and lifted a weed out. “I seem to have forgotten a weed bag, Tija. May I use yours?”

Tija smiled. Charis always forgot a weed bag. It was almost as though she did it intentionally. “Certainly, Provenience.”

Charis dropped the weed into the burlap sack that Tija shifted to rest between them. “We vindicated the villa and were the voice of love and justice in Tongra. You are correct in that, Tija. But that does not make us heroes.”

Tija paused and looked to Charis. “There are some who say that a few days ago you helped to slay a demon and a powerful wizard. You also played a part in slaying our dragon father. You traveled to Tongra and returned to Quehalost for us. In fact, there are other people who say that you have since been to Quehalost to battle a dark druid. What about each of those events does not make you a hero?”

Charis plucked another weed from beneath around the base of a stalk of corn. “Great actions do not make a hero, Tija. Many people do many great things, but not many of them are heroes. In fact, you could say that I was merely doing my job.”

Tija smirked. “If that is your job, then I am grateful to have the simple job of plucking weeds from the ground.”

Charis waited until she caught Tija’s eyes and then smiled at her. “And that is why you are one of my heroes. I know what it is like to be freed from the grips of our dragon father. But so do you. I know how hard it is to make the transition from being a slave to being a freed servant. But so do you. You work to improve your life every day. The people around you do the same. You are learning every day. You do not give up regardless of the adversity.”

Tija looked back to the ground, not understanding. “But this is a gift to me and our people. How could we not embrace this new freedom?”

Charis also turned back to the ground, noting how quiet the fields had gotten. More and more were listening to what she had to say. “You are free, yet you stay loyal to what Iasho has to teach you. When the villa burned, you all knew that the summer would be hard. Yet none of you left. Every day you toil against the ground knowing that the ground is both your ally and your enemy. The very nutrients in the soil necessary for the crops also give birth to the weeds that want to choke out the crops of the fields. You labor hard and seldom complain against Iasho.”

Tija yanked hard at a weed and it broke at the surface level. The root was still buried in the dirt. “But, Iasho is good to us. He asks only that we labor and learn, and he treats us well. You all treat us well, Provenience.”

Charis laughed. “The situation is really irrelevant, Tija. In some ways, you are like the weed that just snapped off at the ground level. The weed can only be thankful for the good situation that it has been given to grow in. It has the choice to grow strong or weak. It chose to grow strong, and in so doing it planted its roots to make it able to resist being pulled out. It worked hard to give itself the best chance that it could to live.”

Tija’s hands closed around the root of the weed that was still in the ground. “But, it is just a weed.”

Charis smiled. “It is. But it is a weed that chose to work hard and make the best of what it was given. And if you were to leave the roots where they are, what would happen to it?”

Tija shrugged. “It would grow back, probably. And it would likely grow back stronger than before.”

Charis smiled broadly. She loved it when she was able to make the servants of the villa teach themselves. “That is precisely my point. Slaying a demon does not make me a hero. Playing my part in stopping cultists does not make me a hero, either. Refusing to buckle under adversity makes you a hero. Taking what life gives you and working hard to make the best of it makes you a hero. You could have given up and accepted the tragedy of the destruction of the villa. But none of you quit and none of you abandoned Iasho. You accepted the harder labor of the summer and have overcome your adversity. You think what we did was tough? We have labored for only a few days. You all that live here on the villa have labored every day without complaint. You have all worked hard to improve your condition but also out of concern for Iasho and the community that he helps support. That makes you a hero in my eyes.”

Tija yanked hard at the root that had snapped off earlier. The root came, but not before breaking off deeper in the ground. “I wanted to leave the root there, but it is my job.”

Charis laughed. “It was only an analogy, Tija. Pull the root. But realize that a person’s greatness is not measured by how awesome the high points of their life are. A person’s greatness is measured by what they do with their life. It isn’t how big they are, but how far reaching the effects of their goodness has on their life and the lives around them. A hero takes greatness and uses it to make the world around them better. They are concerned about the world around them more than themselves. Personally, I’d rather be friends with someone that I know will come and help me rebuild my villa than someone who makes a big deal about slaying demons and stopping cultists.”

Tija blushed at the compliment. “Then you too are a hero, Provenience.”

Charis paused for a moment and used her dirty right hand to push her hair back over her shoulder. With her hair removed, she could see Tija out of the corner of her eye. “Oh?”

Tija smiled and nodded. “You are a hero because you do not forget the workers of the field. You certainly deserve to be exalted, but you would rather praise us and teach us.” A sudden look of understanding passed over her face and she smiled as though she were pleased by her thought. “You are a hero to me, Provenience. Although you are given awesomely high points in your life, you would rather return and dwell in the normal valleys with the rest of the world.”

Charis blushed, and Tija continued to speak. “I understand that you do not want to be called a hero for slaying a demon or stopping cultists. But you will always be a hero in my eyes because you sacrifice your life for those around you. You didn’t have to come back for us, but you did. You brought us into freedom, and you still haven’t abandoned us. If I am a hero for not abandoning Iasho in his time of need, then you are a hero for not abandoning your people in their time of need. In fact, I think now more than ever you are deserving of the title Provenience.”

Charis smiled. Tija had gotten the point of her lesson. But, she had also gotten Tija’s point. “Then it will be our little secret. My title will be a reminder that you are a hero, too.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
After breakfast was finished, Ischarus and Rhema headed into the small village of Huetown in order to seek out the butcher and purchase a healthy stock of poultry for the roasting pit. There was to be a festival now that the foursome was planning on staying home for some time to recuperate.

Iasho had decided to give the workers half of the afternoon off in preparation of the festival, and the mere mention of the ease of work lifted the spirits of all. When breakfast was over, the workers once more went into the fields, but their burden of work was lifted by the promised rest. Granted, the workers all knew that Iasho was not a hard master to serve, but they also knew that it would be nice to not have to spend all day in the sun as well.

Charis decided that she would join the workers in the field for the rest of the morning and the afternoon. Iasho’s earlier comment had convinced her that she needed to be with the people. Many of those working on the villa looked up to her since she was one of them. Like them, she had been rescued from Quehalost and brought into freedom. She had to learn a new language and a new lifestyle. She had to learn how to handle freedom and accountability. She had to learn how to cast off oppression forever. She knew what it was like to go through what the workers were learning.

Of course, Charis knew all of the workers by name. Those who were left on the villa had been to Ausaphaborishan’s Valley for the wedding. These were the ones who had returned after the celebration and began the process of replanting and rebuilding. It had been a harder summer than most, and Charis loved these workers all the more for it.

Charis stood at the edge of the field and looked as the workers spread out down the rows. She turned back to the house, but Semeion hadn’t joined her. He was more interested in the academics of rebuilding the villa. He wanted to oversee portions of the building process and help where he could. Charis turned back to the field and found the woman that she was looking for.

Charis walked across the dirt of the field. Earlier in the summer, she would have sunk into the rich soil. However, the sun and the footsteps of the many workers had since compressed the tilled soil into solid walking paths. The woman looked up to Charis as she approached. Although Charis had approached from the woman’s back, the woman was aware of her approach through the subtle vibrations in the soil. Soft soil would have disguised Charis’ approach, but the compacted dirt transferred small sensations to the woman’s fingers and legs as she knelt on the ground and worked with the plants.

Charis greeted the woman. “Tija, I’m glad I found you.”

The woman nodded and smiled brightly. Although her face was muddied from where Tija had used her dirty fingers to wipe sweat away, her teeth shined brightly in the sun. “And I am glad to see you safe and returned, Provenience.”

Charis winced at the title. Most of the workers on the villa had stopped using it in reference to her, but Tija refused to quit. Charis was grateful that Semeion had stayed near the house, because the use of the title didn’t make him happy. To someone born in Tongra or any of the other free lands, the title only reminded them of the cruel bondage of Quehalost. However, Charis knew that to Tija it was a means of constantly thanking Charis for coming back to free them. Charis nodded politely once she had recovered from the use of the name. “Tija, you are free now. You are learning how to live in a world where you make the decisions and you are accountable for your actions. You do not need to call me Provenience. I have no power over you.”

Tija turned back to the plant that she was working on. “I hear that you and your friends have once more stopped a power of Quehalost from taking control. You deserve honor.”

Charis blushed at the praise and knelt beside her. They were being listened to by many of the workers around them. She knew that these were the conversations that Iasho valued. The weeds that she pulled would be one thing, but they would eventually grow back. The values that Charis could teach to the villa workers would never fail. She thrust her index finger into the ground and lifted a weed out. “I seem to have forgotten a weed bag, Tija. May I use yours?”

Tija smiled. Charis always forgot a weed bag. It was almost as though she did it intentionally. “Certainly, Provenience.”

Charis dropped the weed into the burlap sack that Tija shifted to rest between them. “We vindicated the villa and were the voice of love and justice in Tongra. You are correct in that, Tija. But that does not make us heroes.”

Tija paused and looked to Charis. “There are some who say that a few days ago you helped to slay a demon and a powerful wizard. You also played a part in slaying our dragon father. You traveled to Tongra and returned to Quehalost for us. In fact, there are other people who say that you have since been to Quehalost to battle a dark druid. What about each of those events does not make you a hero?”

Charis plucked another weed from beneath around the base of a stalk of corn. “Great actions do not make a hero, Tija. Many people do many great things, but not many of them are heroes. In fact, you could say that I was merely doing my job.”

Tija smirked. “If that is your job, then I am grateful to have the simple job of plucking weeds from the ground.”

Charis waited until she caught Tija’s eyes and then smiled at her. “And that is why you are one of my heroes. I know what it is like to be freed from the grips of our dragon father. But so do you. I know how hard it is to make the transition from being a slave to being a freed servant. But so do you. You work to improve your life every day. The people around you do the same. You are learning every day. You do not give up regardless of the adversity.”

Tija looked back to the ground, not understanding. “But this is a gift to me and our people. How could we not embrace this new freedom?”

Charis also turned back to the ground, noting how quiet the fields had gotten. More and more were listening to what she had to say. “You are free, yet you stay loyal to what Iasho has to teach you. When the villa burned, you all knew that the summer would be hard. Yet none of you left. Every day you toil against the ground knowing that the ground is both your ally and your enemy. The very nutrients in the soil necessary for the crops also give birth to the weeds that want to choke out the crops of the fields. You labor hard and seldom complain against Iasho.”

Tija yanked hard at a weed and it broke at the surface level. The root was still buried in the dirt. “But, Iasho is good to us. He asks only that we labor and learn, and he treats us well. You all treat us well, Provenience.”

Charis laughed. “The situation is really irrelevant, Tija. In some ways, you are like the weed that just snapped off at the ground level. The weed can only be thankful for the good situation that it has been given to grow in. It has the choice to grow strong or weak. It chose to grow strong, and in so doing it planted its roots to make it able to resist being pulled out. It worked hard to give itself the best chance that it could to live.”

Tija’s hands closed around the root of the weed that was still in the ground. “But, it is just a weed.”

Charis smiled. “It is. But it is a weed that chose to work hard and make the best of what it was given. And if you were to leave the roots where they are, what would happen to it?”

Tija shrugged. “It would grow back, probably. And it would likely grow back stronger than before.”

Charis smiled broadly. She loved it when she was able to make the servants of the villa teach themselves. “That is precisely my point. Slaying a demon does not make me a hero. Playing my part in stopping cultists does not make me a hero, either. Refusing to buckle under adversity makes you a hero. Taking what life gives you and working hard to make the best of it makes you a hero. You could have given up and accepted the tragedy of the destruction of the villa. But none of you quit and none of you abandoned Iasho. You accepted the harder labor of the summer and have overcome your adversity. You think what we did was tough? We have labored for only a few days. You all that live here on the villa have labored every day without complaint. You have all worked hard to improve your condition but also out of concern for Iasho and the community that he helps support. That makes you a hero in my eyes.”

Tija yanked hard at the root that had snapped off earlier. The root came, but not before breaking off deeper in the ground. “I wanted to leave the root there, but it is my job.”

Charis laughed. “It was only an analogy, Tija. Pull the root. But realize that a person’s greatness is not measured by how awesome the high points of their life are. A person’s greatness is measured by what they do with their life. It isn’t how big they are, but how far reaching the effects of their goodness has on their life and the lives around them. A hero takes greatness and uses it to make the world around them better. They are concerned about the world around them more than themselves. Personally, I’d rather be friends with someone that I know will come and help me rebuild my villa than someone who makes a big deal about slaying demons and stopping cultists.”

Tija blushed at the compliment. “Then you too are a hero, Provenience.”

Charis paused for a moment and used her dirty right hand to push her hair back over her shoulder. With her hair removed, she could see Tija out of the corner of her eye. “Oh?”

Tija smiled and nodded. “You are a hero because you do not forget the workers of the field. You certainly deserve to be exalted, but you would rather praise us and teach us.” A sudden look of understanding passed over her face and she smiled as though she were pleased by her thought. “You are a hero to me, Provenience. Although you are given awesomely high points in your life, you would rather return and dwell in the normal valleys with the rest of the world.”

Charis blushed, and Tija continued to speak. “I understand that you do not want to be called a hero for slaying a demon or stopping cultists. But you will always be a hero in my eyes because you sacrifice your life for those around you. You didn’t have to come back for us, but you did. You brought us into freedom, and you still haven’t abandoned us. If I am a hero for not abandoning Iasho in his time of need, then you are a hero for not abandoning your people in their time of need. In fact, I think now more than ever you are deserving of the title Provenience.”

Charis smiled. Tija had gotten the point of her lesson. But, she had also gotten Tija’s point. “Then it will be our little secret. My title will be a reminder that you are a hero, too.”
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