Session 1: Shadows in the Night

Walking thru the strange city of Urigen Lythar and Vulnar made an unusal pair, human ulfen and elven warrior stopped at some ropes at the center of town, where a huge empty grassy field was roped off for blocks.

Surmising the strange area must be a place of combat or some other event about to happen they moved on to the 'Pixie Mix' a decent enough establishment for a warm meal and sweet mead.

***

Sweat built on Kyle's brow from cording wood for the cooking fires, his moment of respite, a cool taste of ale broken by a glass breaking shrill voice and a small feminine gnome head poking out the back door.

"I don't pay you to drink! Get in here we have lots of customers tonight, I need your help", Kyle looked shocked at the accusation but shrugged it off, thanking Cayden for the drink and heading inside to help the frantic Nika.


***


After kicking him in the ankle for some torrid remark, the she directed him to take some drinks and food out to the new patrons. Kyle liked new people, they always had stories and it was a new opportunity for adventure.

He passed over strangely a dressed gnome and his raptor lizard companion, due to his lack of vision while trying to balance trays of food and drinks.

After plying the usual crowds with ale and drink, he stopped short, at the unusual pair by the hearth. An north man by his looks and smell, although not uncommon around Urigen. the man was huge even by their standards. The blond human nodded and grunted a thanks and began digging in to his food like a half starved wild beast. Smacking and licking his fingers.

Sitting next to him with an annoyed look was an elf, a strange companion for the Ulfen, at first he took his full blooded kin as one from Kyonin but soon realized that his clothing seemed off and demeanor more military than traveler. A cool look in his eyes suggested conversation was not in order and Kyle thought the better of it.

Sighing to himself in resignation, he cheered up thinking that after a few drinks perhaps they might be more talkative and decided to wait.

***

That's when the candles flickered out and the room became cold, all but Kyle and Lythar where blinded. Soon several patrons and even the tavern workers, either went rigid or fell over completely.

Smokey shadows began to move thru the darkened tap room, which was soon brightened to dim light by, Thistlebark, a gnome who called upon nature to light his staff, as it flared brightly then dimmed as if some magical means prevented its glow.

Grey and obsidian skinned creatures, white manes of hair, and eyes red as blood reflexively hissed recoiling from the vile brilliance emanating from Thistlebarks' minor orision.

'DARK ELVES!' Lythar, Kyle and even the dull Vognar recognized them immediately through clenched teeth.

Lythar was the first to react as his dark skinned cousins recognized him moving up to engage the outraged surface elf, fortunately he dark attacker was quickly dispatched by Lythars deadly blade.

"Do something you big lout! These are drow they almost killed Lady Elordria remember"? The mentioning of his one true love nearly being killed by dark elves, brought a wave of rage filled emotions.

Vognars eyes narrowed and he let out a chesty roar and drawing his weapon. As his arms swelled with inhuman strength.

The dark elves lead by a powerful priestess, recognizing the imminent violence of such an unpredictable human. Whispered enchanted honeyed words to Vognar, in common

"Please don't hurt me or my men we are friends".

His rage still effecting him, his companion fighting for his life next to him yet the enchantment took hold and his rage subsided.

"Don't hurt my friend and I won't hurt you or your friends". he said with a complacent smile lowering his weapon.

The dark elf female smiled, condescendingly, at the elf who just realized his companion had been ensorcelled, cut down yet another dark elf, and cursed.

The remaining drow searched a man who had been struck and left quickly as they came. Avoiding Vognar as best as they could. Smacking Vognar, Lythar and the Ulfen gave chase after he shook free of the charm.

***

Kyle and Thistlebark began assessing what had transpired and who was injured. The man who had been robbed by the drow lay dead everyone else had fallen to the tell-tale dark elf poison and recovered in time.

Unfortunately Lythar and Vognar where unable to catch the dark elven raiders before they could egress the city. Returning tired and frustrated the warriors met with the gaurd.

Kyle and the others had gathered some evidence off the drow Lythar had killed. Vognar put drow heads on a pike as warning and stripped the bodies. They had coins from Katapesh far to the south.

As some of the guard stayed and questioned witnesses, one gaurd, Kyle, Lythar and Vognar begain looking for people who might need help. Passing by the roped off part of the city that was in phase they saw a shadow moving in the distance.

Vognar, angry, frustrated and wanting to prove his worth after being duped earlier by drow enchantments ran out to met out some vengeance. Lythar called after the enraged fool, and fired at the dog faced creature, his arrow seeming to make its mark but pass harmlessly through it.

Charging in his blade first, Vognar carved thru smoke and shadow, the red hazed eyes of the dog creature, blazed in anger, nearly a foot taller than he.

"Em nue set NA!" the creature hissed with a gravely echoing voice of a grave.

The creatures eyes promised an eternity of death and pain, for the first time Vognar felt shaken in his resolve, as his blood froze, the creature grabbed him by the face its vapid breath like a tomb next to him.

Lythar, and the captain where next to him now attempting to cut the creature as well but nothing affected it. Even Kyle attempted an attack which seemed to do nothing to it.

"Perhaps I should go get some help, or perhaps a retreat is in order"? Kyle nervously suggested.

Doom, death and fear exuding from the creature soon overtook them all, as Vognar, Kyle and even the guardsmen ran from he tall creatures presence.

All but Lythar, who faced the strange being alone. It grasped him, its cold hands promising the grave. Lythar drew a gold coin and showed it to the creature who smiled evilly at the sight of the coin.

Taking the coin, "Khaldun Set khalfani", it stated flatly, letting go of the elf, the creature walked back into the dark shadows and Lythar followed his friends breathlessly back to the Tap room.

***

The discussions back at the tavern turned to the dark elves, the strange creature they could not effect and a missing tavern worker found dead. A mystery is a foot and drow are involved..

What will they find next.

A Deed Most Foul

Part 5 - Tas (March)

The days passed in considerable discomfort for Vognar. With his hands, feet, and neck bound, his muscles burned with the discomfort of carefully holding a semi-stooped posture as he walked the light dappled paths of the Mierani Forest. Any time he stumbled, he was treated to a spear point in the back from one of his escorts, and as if in sympathy with his captors, a cruel tightening of the vines around his extremities and neck.

With each passing day, Vognar did everything he could to catch even a glimpse of Elordria. The blinding image of her beauty kept his feet moving, and bore him through the occasional darkening of his sight due to lack of air. Even the occasional sharp prick of a spear point served only to make him all that much more determined to see that she came through this ordeal in the safety and comfort she deserved. A small growing pressure in his mind, however, reminded him that all was not likely to end well for the two of them.

****

One evening, Elordria brought Vognar a bowl of water and a rag to clean his cuts and bruises incurred during the prodded trek thru the forest. A cool look at the guards caused them to step back from the Elven Noble and Vognar.

Elordria bent down and began blotting Vognar’s head wound. As the Ulfen winced, Elordria whispered, “What will happen now is they will throw you in a cage and question you”.

“Just answer with truth I will speak for my half in this”, Vognar dared a look of warmth towards her but only for a moment, as he noticed Lythar and the other Elves’ gazes bore into him from the other side of the camp.

“Lady Elordria, I am sure he will live”, Kaerishiel stated flatly in Elven, eliciting sneers and quiet laughter from Lythar and the others.

“They,” another Shin’Rakorath called Tolinthar added, pointing to the captive, “would not treat us so kindly if they caught us doing the same in their lands”.

The elf maiden’s stare became cold and composed as she regarded her people as she replied, “Then its good we are not Orodae and that we are better than that.” Her statement seemed to quiet further discontent at her care for the Ulfen.

****

The remaining three days’ pace was fast and brutal as the party and their charge made their way to Crying Leaf. A massive curtain of cultivated and carefully tangled brier-vine walls both protected and obscured the town. As one of the Shin’Rakorath blew on a soundless silver whistle, a section of the vines untangled themselves and magically parted, creating a narrow, thorn protected tunnel into the town. Both on the ground and in the trees, buildings were built with such skill as to make it difficult to determine where the natural features of the terrain, rocks, and trees stopped, and the Elves’ homes and stores began.

Elven warriors lined the path leading into the town, their hard eyes seeming to flay the skin from Vognar as he was marched past them. Despite their glares, Vognar held himself as erect as his bonds would allow, his eyes straight forward as he attempted to steel himself for the ordeal to come.

His eyes did not stay straight for long though, as the beauty of the architecture finally drew the eye, causing Vognar to stagger in abject amazement. Noticing the ever so slight stumble, Elordria gave him a mildly amused sidelong glance, which turned into a frown as a smirking Lythar tugged on the Ulfen’s choker restraints, pulling him further into the village.

Quizzical, confused and even cold elven stares met the Ulfen on the parade to his jail, but he was like a child, amazed and wondering if any of his kin had ever seen such sights.

As they neared the center of the town, Vognar noticed that a large tent had been set up, with armed and armored Shin’Rakorath guards standing post at the entrances. A quick flash of light in the main entrance treated Vognar to a quick glimpse of a stunningly beautiful Elven Lady, dressed fully in gleaming mithral scale. When his eyes fully alighted upon her, he noticed her weighing him for a moment before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the tent. A shudder ran through him, as if her gaze had pierced him to his very soul.

Shortly before reaching the tent, Vognar was firmly turned towards a finely sculpted stone building. Upon entering, he noticed two cells of an unknown, but very sturdy looking wood, both of which were empty. Vognar’s escort pushed him into one of the bent wooden barred cells, and then as four elves with spears covered him, carefully removed the vines from his feet and neck, leaving his hands bound. Once he had coiled the vine, the gaoler stepped back as the bars moved of their own accord to close off the entry hole, preventing egress.

His jail, if it could be called such, was made of thick, live dark wood stronger than steel. Sitting heavily onto the bed, Vognar realized that it was more comfortable than any in which he had previously slept and there was even fresh water to drink. One would think the elves a soft and weak people with such luxuries to spend on a prisoner, however, a week with their finest soldiers had proved to Vognar that they were far from soft; more like quick and quiet like shadows with deadly sharp senses. He had none of their skills but admired them, warily from a distance, as one would a mountain lion.

Looking around, Vognar caught sight of the raven-haired elf that had surprised him in the cave. “I do hope you enjoyed your walk Orodae,” Lythar sneered, “that may be the last time you see the sun.”

After dropping off his traveling kit, Lythar was later assigned to guard the stinky Ulfen by Kaerishiel himself. Sometime later that evening, he used a stick to push a small dish of a simple meal of roasted nuts, roots, and fresh berries to Vognar, who picked it up and settled in to wait his fate.

***

Normally, gaoler duty was assigned to Vaeler or Shaleas. For a Velaes to draw such a task was usually done in penance, or after a demotion. As Lythar worked on an arrow shaft, keeping a wary eye on the large Ulfen, he realized that guard duty would bring the captive before her Ladyship Eviana for judgment and with him, Lythar. To be in Eviana’s presence, even in such a lowly role, would be considered a great honor.

As he turned his attention to a fletching that had come loose during his travels, Lythar’s eyes snapped up as two entirely unexpected visitors entered the jail.

The Ladies Eviana and Elordria appeared to flow in through the door, followed by a retinue of elven Lords including Kaerishiel himself. Snapping to attention, Lythar did not dare speak. Eviana’s voice was melodic like the running of a peaceful stream, her presence like bliss of the heavens itself.

“Has he eaten?” Eviana asked.

Lythar answered only by nodding, thinking it was more than the stinking savage deserved.

Eviana stared at the Velaes as if sensing his thoughts, an idea that unnerved the young Elf warrior. Bowing his head to avoid her gaze, he stood perfectly still as the others filed into the small room as if they where looking at a dirty caged animal.

“Vognar, son of Gilbere and Valda,” Eviana began, “it must have been Thari (fate) that brought you to our fair shores. I have spoken to my daughter and she has told me of the fight that occurred between her people and the dark elves”.

Lythar raised his head at the mention of an enemy more hated than the Ulfen raiders.

“She told me that her team intercepted your people and that you were here for trade. Had you not acted quickly, my daughter would surely have perished after the dark elves had fun with her so I can understand her… gratitude towards you as her savior.”

Lythar’s mouth twisted as he finally heard what must have been the reason for the unholy union he knew had occurred. He knew that no woman of noble blood would ever mingle with a mongrel such as this without it being for pity or gratitude. His smirk was quickly washed away to impassive stoney expression, however, when he was treated to a sidelong warning glare from Kaerishiel.

Eviana’s white dress shimmered in the candle light of the room as she asked, “Do you have anything to add to my daughters testimony”?

To this point, Vognar had been looking down at his bowl the entire time. As he raised his gaze, ice blue eyes like that of a wolf fawned upon Elordria with what everyone in the room could immediately see was love. Kaerishiel and most others stiffened at the notion, all except Eviana and Elordria of course.

“I wish I could agree with your daughter, that my people where here for trade, but it was actually for plunder of the lost city of Celwynvian.” Vognar shook his head as he added, “We never intended on fighting your people, but when both sides were set upon by Dark Elves who seemed more interested in killing your people than my own, my people retreated to the sea.”

Shocked and disgusted looks were exchanged amongst all of the Elves save Elordria, who looked at the floor in shame for her new love. She shook her head slowly, knowing this would not help his case. Noting her daughter’s frustration, Eviana made an effort to compose herself and nodded for Vognar to continue.

“I intended on running but could not allow your dark cousins to have sport with Elordria”. At the familiar mention of her name without respect to title, Vognar suddenly found himself meeting many angry Elven stares. Lady Eviana, however, noted her daughter did not share their anger, and to Eviana’s chagrin, was giving Vognar a loving stare in return.

“So I turned to save her, and with the luck of the gods we found a place where I could tend her wounds and prevent the skilled dark stalkers from finding us”.

The elves whispered a mix of curses and astonishment among themselves, before Lady Eviana brought silence with a raised hand.

“You speak truth, and I would known if you lied, young Orodae. Now, though, we have a problem.” Eviana smiled sadly as she continued, “because only you and one other of your kin escaped the battle. A battle that we must keep quiet at all costs”.

Eager looks broke out amongst the Elven nobles. Even Kaerishiel looked hungrily towards Vognar.

“So then, what shall be your fate, Vognar son of Gilbere and Valda?”

Realizing his fate was out of his own hands Vognar did something foolish.

“What I will say has happened, will be that I led a raid on your people, took an Elven maid as a prize, and I will return home to face the consequences of my failure among my people”. Vognar then regarded Elordria with a pained look, “If this act will protect you and your people, I will live or die with this secret for all of my remaining days, however few”.

A stunned silence fell over the room, as many of the Elves regarded the Ulfen dubiously. Elordria’s eyes welled at the thought of being parted and the stunning sacrifice he was willing to make. Lady Eviana was also at a loss, but knew he meant every word.

Lythar’s jaw actually dropped open in disbelief at the idea that they were actually considering this ludicrous idea.

Eviana drew herself up into the regal pose that all present knew was a signal that she was not to be trifled with. “We will need to talk in private amongst our leaders to consider your noble sacrifice”.

***

Several days later, a dispatch was sent to the Land of the Linnorm Kings that a warlord named Vognar and his men failed in an attempt to raid an elven city. The war leader and sole survivor would be transported to the leaders of his country to face justice.

He would be accompanied by Velaes Lythar, to ensure the ruse worked and to represent the Elven people. Vognar was allowed parting goodbyes to Lady Elordria whom he told not to worry. While his people would brand, banish or indenture him to servitude, he assured her that he would be fine.

He was wrong…

In the Land of the Linnorm Kings… a mockery of a trial with a real execution.

In the Land of the Linnorm Kings… a mockery of a trial with a real execution.

The smoke hazed feast hall had been cleared its oval chamber lit by a hole atop the roof to let out the fire pits emanations’. A shaft lit Vognar, kicked to his knees by burly guards, a large block of wood and chains held his immense arms securely aloft.

“We are here to convene on a troubling matter. One of our own thru his actions has precipitated a war without the approval of the fates and this council!”

The large salt and pepper haired Ulfen, richly dressed, orator gestured to the Kings on the far side of the room, sitting in the shadows.

Darkly regarding the young Ulfen whose head hung low in shame, “This impetuous WHELP, has taken it upon himself to claim a prize out of a noble she elf, further precipitating the ire of the elves of Celwynvian.” Nodding gravely to Lythar who sat like stone to the side of the dark room with other lookers on.

“The world regards us as savages, and this warriors actions and those of ‘his men’ have damaged relations and trade with a friendly nation who we wished nothing but peace”.

‘Peace and trade’, scoffed the elf. Not less than a hundred years ago the Ulfen horde poured into Meirani Forest for looting and pillaging. Most likely this very mans grandfather.

‘Hypocrites’ Lythar mused.

The orator listed many other felonious flaws in Vognars character none of which Lythar had noticed even since capturing and nearly killing the Orodae several months ago.

The only real fault his people could levy against the Ulfen is foolishness that bordered on suicidal tendencies when it came to lack of wisdom in decisions. Trespassing in Elven lands does not warrant death, and although he did not kill a single elf in their forest, he did lay with a noble elven woman, of her own accord, again not a crime where the penalty of death would be warranted, a sound thrashing and banishment from their lands.

The thought of the barbarian and a noble elf lying together still repulsed Lythar. He only glimpsed the sanity of her choice the day Vognar told Lady Evianna and the council of Lords, he would take the blame for the deaths of the Elves of Crying leaf and keep their private war with the Dark Elves secret even unto his death.

‘Impressive for one so young and foolish, this is what the Orodae must mean by ‘Noble Savage’.’
Lythars reverie was broken by the change in tone among the Ulfen, a dangerous change.

‘This did not look good, many of the Kings where there all but the actual one who led his men onto Mierani shores uninvited, Ingimundr the Unruly King of Bildt. That means no one would speak on his behalf.

Speaking in their strange mix of bastardized dwarven / Varisian the leaders debated Vognar’s fate and Lythar could only make out every third word.

The accuser and orator leaned forward to hear the counsel of King’s decision; his large frame went rigid as if not expecting the verdict.

With less pomp to his gate the old warrior stood before Vognar grave tone, “Vognar son of Gilbere and Valda you have been judged by this council to be guilty of all the crimes listed and although the elves of Celwynvian have spared you we will grant them justice to keep the peace between us”.

“The punishment is DEATH, by beheading”! Shocked roar of voices filled the room of on lookers, never has a Ulfen been meted out death for the attack on a non-ulfen, it has been their right to die in combat with honor.

Cries of the unruly crowd only magnified the shocked expression on Lythars face, for the first time Vognars head raised and their eyes met. A strange, look of pain mixed with resignation played across the young condemned orodae.

The room was being cleared by the councils soldiers, Lythar noted the orator leaning forward quietly talking to the young man, a hand on his shoulders comfortingly.

“Is there nothing you wish to say to your defense, my son”?

“I know you, this situation is not of your making, speak truth and they will reconsider”!

Vognar’s blue eyes welled, setting his jaw, “Forgive me father but I have given my word, I cannot speak to my defense on this, I will see you in the afterlife”.

Shaking his head at his boy, the old warrior, his accuser and father stood eyes locked with his son nodding to him, Gilbere father of Vognar strode from the hall to drown his pain in mead and comfort his wife.

Lythar sat frozen during their exchange, only his acute hearing could pick up their words.

As Vognar was led to away, await his execution the following day.

‘By Ketephys, I cannot let this happen’; a plan was forming for Lythar one that would surely be as foolish as the young Ulfen he captured and would now release.

A Deed Most Foul

Part 4 - Ailaesaelol (Intervention)

“Myr!”

Lythar quickly rocked his wrists while raising his forearms, and the falling blade’s tip embedded itself into the log on the far side of Vognar’s neck with a resonating thunk. The blade’s edge was now nearly touching back of the Ulfen’s neck, but the quick reaction had prevented any injury. The female voice that yelled that single word was so full of command authority that Lythar’s subconscious responded before even his brain was able to intervene.

***

The bear had just sat down on its haunches and begun looking towards the cave containing its cubs when Elordria heard unintelligible voices coming from the clearing outside the cave. Able to delay no longer, she hurried outside, rounding the waterfall just as Lythar began his downstroke.

Elordria’s eyes brimmed with tears as her imagination played her worst fears over and over in her head. As she her eyes took in the scene, she blinked to clear the horrific site of her love about to be beheaded. A strange sense of calm flushed through her body as she yelled “STOP” as loudly as she could in Elven, with every fiber of her being willing that the brightly flashing blade would stop in time.

***

Lythar’s head whipped around in shock, his intense gaze causing Elordria to cover herself reflexively. Rocking his powerful shoulders, Lythar pulled his blade out of the log and turned towards Elordia.

“He is Orodae, he has killed our bretheren, and he has defiled a Lady of the Mierani Forest!” Lythar exclaimed angrily. “The penalty for the latter two is death on sight, and you know it!”

“Vognar did no such thing!” Elordria called back, straightening up and striking as regal and authoritative pose as she could in her state of undress.

“Ahh...so it’s Vognar now is it?” hissed back Lythar. “I know not how he has muddled your mind, or what enchantment he has you under, but I’ll take care of it immediately.”

“I demand the right of Thosaeror as the aggrieved party!”

At Elordria’s proclamation, Lythar’s eyes narrowed, however, he once again turned back towards Vognar and raised his blade for the killing stroke.

Elordria’s mouth opened in protest, but before she could try again to turn the enraged elf from his intended action, Kaerishiel strode boldly into the clearing, his Shin’Rakorath fanning out. “Velaes Lythar, I believe the Lady has called for Thosaeror, and you know she has the standing and the authority to do so. His fate is in Lady Eviana’s hands now, not yours.”

“So she does, so it is,” breathed Lythar, lowering his blade slowly and leaning down towards Vognar, “and so it shall be. Lady Eviana will sort you out, and before this is done, you may wish I had been permitted to end it quickly.” Straightening as he turned towards Kaerishiel, Lythar levelled his tone and said, “He will be conveyed safely to Crying Leaf, and with no more harm than he brings upon himself.”

****

Breathing a sigh of relief at Kaerishiel’s interference, Elordria turned back towards the cave to get dressed. As she did so, however, it occurred to her just how hard it would be to open her xenophobic bretherens’ eyes to the true situation. Worry once again flooded through her, and she immediately turned her thoughts towards trying to find a way to keep Vognar alive and unharmed once he reached the Court at Crying Leaf.

****

The vines once again clamped down on Vognar’s windpipe as he was jerked roughly to his feet and held while the elves cleaned up the cave, keeping a wary eye on the adjacent cave containing a still grumbling mama-bear, and began preparations for the journey back to Crying Leaf.

Kyle Ambrose: A night at the Pixie Mix

A night at the Pixie Mix

Kyle Ambrose looked around the bar and smiled. No place finer then a good tavern. And this place wasn’t your average watering hole. This was the Pixie Mix with some of the best brew in all the River Kingdoms. It’s a perfect place to bring the spiritual minded the true words of Cayden. “Drink, Be Merry, and Live The Adventure.” That’s what it’s all about anyways.

You only really got one shot at making a name for yourself and this place is amazing. This town of Uringen even has a disappearing town in the middle of a town. You honestly can’t get much more interesting than that. But I digress I need to see how my new friends are doing.

Walking into the kitchen two men are scrubbing the floor as hard as they can with some of the smallest brushes you have ever seen.

“Hey Gregor have I ever told you any of my amazing stories?” A 6’4 half Ork covered in animal firs looks up from the floor and shakes his head.
“No Kyle I don’t think so”.
“Great!!! I got a good one for you then.”

Kyle hopped up on the counter and began to recite. “My Mother used to talk a lot about my father. I got a million stories about him from her.My Favorite was the time he lost his best horse and half his clothing from an angry Red dragon! But from what My mom says he was drunk a lot while he was adventuring and she says that sometimes you have to look at a human adventure story a bit harder to figure out if it’s true or not. I guess being a beautiful bard did not hurt when it came to gathering all the facts. Turns out my dad was stalking a dragon with some pretty inept adventurers. A tiny one but I’m sure he would say it was one of those Dragons of Legend you hear about all the time. Well they all got a great big fire going was roasting a pig and got a bit drunk.

Well everyone forgot about watch and a loan Kobold wandered into camp and started to steal everything in sight. My dad woke up not able to stand and started to scream TO ARMS TO ARMS!!!! Well his friend Billy was a bit to close to the fire pit and scattered hot embers all over the place Well that Trixie little Kobold stole my dad’s horse and road it as hard and as fast as he could. to make his escape. Turns out the daft little thing forgot about the terrain and road off a cliff with all their supplies. Drunken and on fire the men managed to jump in a creek not far away and put themselves out. You know you Got to love proper planning when dragon hunting I suppose. Hmm my story does make an interesting observation. Makes me believe there is a reason you don’t hear too much in the way of Kobold Cavaliers and Horseman.”

Belly laughing from the floor the giant half-ork and a much shorter human started to laugh.

“Hey Gregor look you missed a spot!” “Oh!!!! I’m so sorry Kyle I didn’t mean too. Please forgive me. This floor is so dirty and this brush you gave me is only so big and I think one of my eyes is swollen shut so it’s a bit hard to see. But I will happily do it all over again if it doesn’t make you happy. I mean we are great friends and all aren’t we?”
Gregor instantly had a very sad expression on his face. “Ahh my good sir of course we are friends! And through the power of my god you have seen just how great friends we actually are.

And you know I love it when you come to town but I have to admit you did start that fight with poor Madren over there.” Kyle looks over at another man hunched over scrubbing the floor with a tiny brush

“You doing ok over there Madren?” “Madren looks up with a lopsided grin with a few teeth missing. Yes my friend. This here is the least I can do for you. Ahh and I appreciate your efforts and I know that Nikka appreciates it as well. Oh and By the way Nikka asked if you wouldn’t swat her on her tiny butt anymore. She is a Gnome after all and if you swat her to hard you might just toss her over the bar by accident and I would so very much hate to see that.”

“Ohh… That would be a tragedy. Thanks for pointing that out Kyle. I sure wouldn’t want that to get in the way of our friendship.” “Oh Madren think nothing of it. Just keep cleaning for a while and everything will be grand! I do know that in about an hour or so Keenan wanted to talk with you about some damages to that chair you hit Gregor with but you great guys can sort all that out later right?” “Of course we can Kyle. I would do anything for you.” “I appreciate that Madren.

Now where was I… Oh Yes! Gregor!”

“Yes Kyle?” “I know that you are in the forest a lot and you don’t get to town much but every time you come we seem to find ourselves in these situations. You know it saddens me when I have to use extreme measures to get you to calm down for the enjoyment of others. I mean last time you chopped enough fire wood for us to last at least a month. That was so nice of you by the way. If you keep this up though I am going to start running out of chores!”

“Kyle you have always been so nice to me even though I don’t really belong anywhere. Humans don’t trust me and they hurt my feelings. Madred called me something pretty horrible in Orkish and suddenly I was holding him in the air and I was just punching away until all his friends tackled me and they hit me with that chair.” “Well Gregor we all have a place in this world by Cayden. I mean I live in two worlds as well. Not an elf and not a human but we all have to get by some how you know. Lots of people have hurt my feelings but I’m a pretty forgiving soul after all so I don’t worry about it overly much.”

“Oh Gregor! One last thing before I let you get back to cleaning the kitchen. I have told you that fighting in the Pixie Mix really upsets Keenan and Zarzukel. I mean those guys put a lot of time into this place and they can’t have you busting it up every time you come in from the forest trapping all those poor animals in those cruel traps you use to get their hides.” “I understand you have to make a living but you have to be nicer to folks in a Holy Place like this. It took a lot of persuading to let you use that brush and not ask you to clean the floor with your tounge. My great friend Zarzukel thought that would be an appropriate punishment after you broke that barrel of some of his finest ale. I would stay away from him for a while ok!” “Sure Kyle anything for you!”

Wandering out in the main part of the Tavern Keenan Dathar, Zarzukel Thistlewhiskey and his sister Nika were stareing with grim expressions on their faces.

“HIS TOUNGE!!! I said I wanted him to clean the floor with his tongue!!!!” Shouted the small gnome in the most boisterous expression I had seen to date.
“Zarzukel relax those two will be scrubbing for the next hour or so and then will have a moment of clarity and very clean hands. And by that time the town Sherriff will arrive to explain exactly what will happen to them both the next time something like this happens. So calm yourself my friend.” Kyle said with a great big smile…

“They have both already compensated the bar with enough coin to replace what was broken and then some. Plus thanks to my God they are happily doing the entire close down chores for the night. I know you wanted to simply beat them senseless Keenan but I think this has the desired effect. People in town will talk about these two for a long while and it keeps the trouble down. No tough guy wants to be brawling one moment and then cleaning the kitchen the next am I right?”
Keenan looked at the ceiling and began to shake his head. “ Lad I do believe you have the spirit of your god in you for coming up with this kind of penalty for bar fighting of all things.”

“Well what can I say? Cayden has blessed me with his benevolent power. And if someone is going to desecrate a sacred barrel of ale I will not stand idly by while they threaten the others.” “Now, if you will excuse me I am off to bed and I will see you all in the morning.” I can only imagine the new set of riff raff that will come in on the marrow. “Good night my friends and sleep well.”

“Ohh and Nika… I know he swatted you on the rump earlier but you didn’t need to hit him in the teeth with that mug while he was unconscious. That was a little mean!”. Nika giving a sly wink just turned around and walked away. Well that’s one gnome I am never going to cross!

On to Uringen

The old hag sat baking in the sun of the market with her dried lissticks laid out like rows of leather strips. She was obviously of Osirian origin but how old none could tell. She looked as if she were one of the mummies freshly unwrapped and set up for display on the small straw palette. She cawed to the passersby and waved her bony arms to draw attention to her wares, periodically spitting to clear her throat.

The market was thick with traders, travelers and hawkers of all kind. Thistlebark cautiously approached the old woman where she sat at one corner of the walkway. He studied her momentarily before catching her attention. When her jaundiced eyes caught his she waved him over and spat through her toothless grin.

"Young traveller," she cackled, "come and have a taste of the finest dried lizard in Katapesh!"

"While your wares appear delectable, crone, I have really come looking for information."

Her amber eyes widened.

"You see, I'm seeking the recipe for a rare healing elixir."

She squinted through heavy leather lids, "There is not anything I can tell you about that. Be off if you're not going to buy something."

Thistle grinned, "Oh, Master Dacron said you may know of someone who had writings of such things. He called it Nightmoss." Thistle pulled a polished gold coin from under his cloak and regarded it casually.

She sucked a short breath between naked gums. "Master Dacron? Well he and I are out of sorts, but I can point you in the right direction." Her eyes gleamed as she regarded the coin Thistle fumbled between his fingers.

"Go on."

She licked parched lips and glanced from side to side. "What you're looking for is in the River Kingdoms to the north. I was there many, many years ago and held council with Erinin Thulgath. Her encampment is known as the Nightmoss camp. You will find her for more information on the plant you seek."

"The River Kingdoms?"

The hag cackled, "Yes! It's a long way from here for such a small creature to to travel alone."

"Don't get any funny ideas, crone. I'm not traveling alone. And I'm certainly not taking you with me."

Tajzh was actively sniffing at the dried lizards and quickly turned up her nose.

"I see you have a unique little companion already. Would you care to purchase a treat for your little pet?" Her toothless grin widened.

"I think these have been out in the sun too long." Tajzh replied indifferently. Her attention began to stray.

"Indeed?" The hag sat forward on her palette, and spat again. "I'd do to have you on a stick you little..."

"That's quite enough!" Thistle dropped the gold coin. "You have been most knowledgeable and helpful. We do wish you well." He turned to go.

"Don't be swayed by the charlatans there little gnomeling! They'll give you hadrock root for bowerleaf if you don't know the difference!" She called after him punctuating it with another spit.

Pushing his way through the crowded market toward the docks Thistle called back to her, "Thank you again, but I do know the difference." He waved at her over his shoulder.

"I'll just bet you do, you little shit," she mumbled to herself tucking the gold coin in her sagging, wrinkled cleavage, "I'll bet you do."

The Journey begins..

Vognar crouched in a shallow hollow of a hillside, repetitively rocking heel to toe, rubbing his chest in a vane effort to keep warm as winds whipped a the meager shelter.

‘I will freeze to death’, his teeth chattered and body shook uncontrollably with clanking of his iron manacles the only respite from the howling blizzard around him

Eyes almost frozen shut, a cloaked outline at the edge of his vision closed on him. The tall form drew was difficult to make out but carried a bow drawn and knocked, dressed in the pelt of white wolf furs and supple leathers, the snow striders’ face obscured in warm cloth to protect against the cold. Vognar was too tired and frozen to fight anymore, in what would most likely be his last moments. Darkness began to overtake him as the frigid drove him to unconsciousness’, slumping to the frozen ground Vognars’ last site was a stoney familiar elfish face… the one known as Lythar of Crying Leaf.

***

Regaining his senses, warmth and pain greeted the groggy Ulfen, who lay covered in furs in a tent made of evergreens, a warm fire and trout smoking near by. Not sure of his surroundings he thought himself back in Mierani Forest with his love.

“Elordria”, croaked the near frost bitten warrior pathetically.

Silence, at first, then movement across the fire caught straining eyes, “No” came a baritone elven voice. Lythar gazed steely at the orodae for a moment then softened only slightly.

“Your lucky to live, I have been tracking you since your flight from your people”, waving his dagger north, then continuing honing an arrow shaft.

Vognar weakly lifted his arms, his rough hands rubbing bruised scabbed wrists where manacles once held him.

He looked at the elven warrior questioningly, Lythar did not look up, “I removed them, for now”, a serious gaze given again at the blond human, apparently he considered leaving them on.

Nodding, thankful, the Ulfen flexing hands to test their strength, leaned forward, “Why did you not let me die, either by my people or the storm”?

Looking at his savior, chewing on some fish the elf offered him, “Your peoples secret would be safe from discovery with my death”.

At first Lythar was silent as was his way, “What honor would my people have if we let you die for a lie”, eyeing his crafted arrows’ trueness, still not gazing at the human.

Smirking over at Vognar, “Besides I only wished to see how far the gods would let your foolishness go on before they let you die”.

“Rest, soon we must make the crossing through Orc infested territory of Belkzin”, wrinkling his sculpted face at the thought, “and head east towards the River Kingdoms where you will be safe from all concerned”. No more to say the two sat in silence.

Vognar contemplated his new companion with appreciation; he would not let this debt of life go unpaid. He recovered quickly and several days later the pair headed across the Hold of Belkzin.

***

Smelling the air Grank wrinkled his grey-green pig-like nose “Man and elf flesh, nearby perhaps in those trees ahead”, pointing ahead for the other orcs in a low growl. The orc tracker seethed at the thought of elves in his lands worse than dwarves and humans combined.

On a ridge above them Vognar crept to the edge, eyeing the three orc poachers pointing at the trees where Lythar hid. They spoke in guttural tones drawing crossbows and fanning out as to surround him.

‘Fools’, Lythars’ plan was working perfectly they headed straight into a trap.

Moving back to his position next to some boulders Vognar strained to see his elven companion who was well hidden in the tree and scrub ahead, waiting for Lythars’ signal, which came in the form of an arrow that embedded itself deep into the lead orc’s thigh.

Roaring in pain, the orc leader raised his crossbow and fired at the brush where the arrow came from missing Lythar who was behind a copse of trees. The orcs companions also loosed bolts and sought cover right underneath Vognars position above them.

Seizing the opportunity he moved to push rocks upon the orcs underneath. His considerable muscles strained, pressing all his strength against the boulders on the edge of the cliff, which seemed not to give. A red haze of frustration and anger covered Vognars eyes; the stones gave way to his rage, hailing down on the orcs below.

Bellowing in surprised pain one orc was instantly crushed beneath a landside of rock leaving dark red and green streaked rocks. The other dropped his crossbow and drew his shield and axe looking up at the source of the rock shower.

A challenging roar erupted from the enraged human above the orcs, and he leapt down at the orc rolling to his feet on the sandy ground. Grabbing a two-handed sword laying next to a now buried orc, Vognars eyes promised death.

Grank turned to face the newest threat but received another arrow for his efforts, this time in his shoulder. A mocking laugh from Lythar, stood out of his cover, drawing his own weapon, charging the wounded orc leader. The glint of his wicked curved elvish blade caught in the dawning light was the last thing the orc saw before losing his ugly head.

Vognar the other orc traded bows the ringing of steel only broken up by the feral roars of both warriors. Circling each other like wolves, the orc swung his battle-axe first drawing a bloody graze across the Ulfens shoulder.

Crazed with bloodlust, fire in his eyes, barely acknowledging the wound, Vognars blade shattered through armor, splitting the orcs stomach open spilling intestines on the ground in a sloppy brownish red heap.

The orc leader had not landed a blow, and Lythar stood over Granks corpse wiping the foul blood off his blade.

The haze left Vognar tired but not spent. However, his survival instincts kicked in, as the Ulfen scavenged armor, the great-sword, and serviceable equipment from dead opponents who would not be needed them.

Both warriors agreed it would be unwise to linger, and headed east as far away from his people and the orc nation as possible… to the River Kingdoms.