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Message: <blockquote data-quote="randomling" data-source="post: 1550649" data-attributes="member: 8432">Author's note: Meet my new PC, Katrin Baden.Katrin's Story It was late at night now, and I was tired, but Keeran insisted he’d found their tracks, so the two of us rode on. Keeran was an archer, usually quiet and surly; aside from essential talk about food and direction, he said little except to make occasional mention of his dead brother and the old friends of his we were meeting. When he’d seen the horse tracks headed away from the road, Keeran had turned east to follow them. I gazed at the dwindling moon: by now it had to be past midnight. After a while we reached the crest of a hill, over which the horses had disappeared. We followed. By the time the camp was in sight, we had already been seen, and five figures stood at the bottom of the hill, weapons drawn. I peered down the hill, unable to make out details of faces. “Hail, Zana,” Keeran cried. “Keeran?” Lowering her sword, a middle-sized Sarcosan woman stepped forward. “Is that you?” Keeran and I rode forward and dismounted. Keeran spoke briefly to Zana, who after a few moments made the introductions: Apari, a quiet Danisil elf who had a sad, shocked look; Pallas, a tall sullen man with a vardatch; Verity, frightened-looking; an unnamed halfling who shied away from the others. Zana herself stood defiantly with her sword still in her hand and a wild look in her eyes like a dying animal. This, then, was the group’s leader. But the elf said softly, “We’re Jez’s band.” Zana shot a look at the elf. I gazed at her, at the semi-familiar lines of her face, her dark skin and eyes, thinking. “Do I know you?” “No,” said Zana blankly. She was still looking at Apari. I turned away to join the discussion that Pallas was having with Verity about safer places to camp, and soon the six of us were riding towards the New Road in search of some place that Verity knew. It turned out to be on the New Road itself, magically buried inside it: I remember staring as Verity called “Follow me!” and disappeared. All of us followed. Inside, it was white stone, and apparently inaccessible from the outside. Still we set watches. I slept soundly, as always, but as I kept watch, myself observing my new companions. None of them were sleeping well. From what I’d heard, that was to be expected. One had died. The survivors seemed devastated. Morning came around, none too soon for me, but long before any of the others wanted it to. Within a few hours of waking, the mission had been explained and planned, the halfling named and then interrogated. It was Pallas, in his quiet voice, who explained that their friend Jez had given her life so that they could get the Earthlight, the gem that Zana held in her hand. Now their job was to destroy the new temple with it. The decision was that Keeran and Apari – both scouts – would go, and the rest of us stay behind. After nightfall, they left, and we were left in our hiding-place: Pallas, Verity, Loren the halfling, Zana, and me. Some time after they left, Zana asked why I’d thought I knew her. In response, I looked into her face. “What’s your last name?” “Than,” she said. I blinked at her, surprised. “Are you related to Lord Than?” “My father.” I looked at her for a long time, comparing her to my old lover, the man I’d travelled so far to find. How was it that I’d stumbled across his daughter? Her manner was different from his; she had no Sarcosan accent; I remembered Than telling me about his child, the earthy Erenlander girl who’d turned up at his camp one night, demanding to be taken on. He’d sounded so proud of her – much prouder than my father had ever been of me. “How is the old dog?” I said, faking a smile to hide my beating heart. “I haven’t seen him in a long time.” “He’s dead,” said Zana without a pause. She leaned forward to stoke the fire while I sat there near to choking, trying to pull myself together enough to talk. We discussed him for a while. Four years, he’d been dead four years. Less than a year after our three weeks together, he was dead, and I hadn’t heard about it despite all my searching. Zana quizzed me about how I’d known him, I explained all I could without telling her the one thing I couldn’t imagine her reacting well to. “Did you see him fight?” she asked. “Once,” I said, and couldn’t suppress a smile at the memory. “Wow.” “He was so quick,” said Zana. I looked at my hands, remembering him: “He was certainly quick.” Zana raised her eyebrows and looked away. We were silent for a long time, barely looking at each other, unable to tell if the others were awake or asleep. It was Zana who finally took up the thread of conversation again, and we spoke in low voices about leadership and tragedy, about the elf, who Zana thought should lead them instead of her. I looked at Zana and saw her father, a man born to leadership as he was to swordsmanship, and I wondered if Zana was the same as him. Even defeated as she was, I thought I could see it. She couldn’t step down, mustn’t. The band needed her. Once again we lapsed into silence, and hours later, Keeran and Apari came stumbling back with the Earthlight and collapsed asleep. They hadn’t succeeded. I could see the disappointment on Zana’s face, the weight of what seemed like another bad decision. We set watches again. The next night, Apari said, he would try again. Alone. In the morning, a troupe of orcs, legates and human slaves tramped past our hiding-place on the New Road. Apari said he would go anyway, but, oppressed by the Shadow emanating from the Temple, came back, fast. Soon after he returned, the orcs and legates came tramping back, but the humans were gone. The Temple had been consecrated. Now we had a new decision. Everybody wanted to complete the mission, but it would be a sacrifice now. To destroy the Mirror, somebody had to die. I saw Zana look at Apari, the only one capable of getting there, willing him to take the decision out of her hands. The elf spoke eloquently of Jez, the girl they’d lost, how he felt responsible for her death, how he was prepared to do this, for her. I listened to him, biting back the words I wanted to scream to Zana. This is who you’d have as a leader? An elf so wracked with guilt he’s suicidal? Are you so mad with grief you think his decisions will be any better than yours? After nightfall, Apari said his goodbyes and left. I watched Zana disappear into herself as the elf disappeared into memory, watching the horizon like a hawk. Nobody said a word; an hour dragged past; the moon was a sliver in the sky. Then we saw it: black lightning. I looked at the other faces in camp. Keeran was near-expressionless; Pallas, too. Verity was grinning, but had tears in her eyes. The halfling looked forlorn. Zana’s eyes flashed, but her expression was unreadable: for her, this was equal parts triumph and defeat. I smiled a little, but I felt the loss too. He’d been a friend for two days, but he’d given his life for victory. We all laid our bodies down, but nobody slept. Some time afterwards, a small dark-clothed figure staggered into our hiding-place, his face and hair singed. Zana sat bolt upright as the rest of us rolled over and sat up sleepily, confused but not yet alarmed. “I’ve avenged Jez,” said Apari’s voice. Then the small figure collapsed where he stood, and in moments, he was fast asleep.</blockquote>

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