Chapter One - "The Letter"

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Altario waited on bended knee for what seemed like an eternity, until his knee began to ache.  He wanted her to answer so desperately that his heart ached at the thought, yet at the same time he feared it; dreaded it even.  This was too soon.  How could he expect her to fall in love with him the same way he had fallen for her?  It was ridiculous if she were human.  That she was elf made it positively absurd.

Doubt flooded through him, and if he could, he would take back the last two minutes of his life.  Somehow, gods willing, she might not have heard him correctly.  Something.  Anything.

Suddenly she spoke, her voice soft and melodious as usual.  But her words were in Styrash, and though he was picking up a few words from her, he did not recognise what she said.  Was she explaining why she could not marry him?  He knew she was too honourable to laugh at his foolishness outright.  He closed his eyes, unable to meet her gaze.

He felt her fingers on his cheek, sensed her body moving, and he opened his eyes slowly to see tear filled uderza orbs locked onto him.  Tears of sadness?  Oh, please Valannia, he screamed within his mind, please just get this over with.  Tell me I'm a fool.  Tell me you're sorry.  Tell me you didn't mean for this.

Her lips then touched his, and it was if lightning coursed through him.  In that moment, it did not matter what her answer was.  It did not matter if this was the last moment they ever spent together.  This moment, this kiss, was the only thing that mattered.  It was very possibly, the sweetest kiss he had ever tasted in his entire life.  He loved her.  In this moment, right here, right now, he loved her more than any person in the world.

She pulled back, ever so slightly that their lips continued to touch, as if fighting the movement of their bodies, clinging together with a will of their own.  In that moment he heard the word he had been both aching for and dreading.  She said "yes"!  In Styrash, but it was yes.  Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!  She said said yes!

Then, another phrase in styrash that not only did he not understand, but really did not hear, even if it had of been in Tharian.  His mind was still repeating the word “aih” over and over to the exclusion of everything else.  They came together in a warm embrace.

Finally, reality reemerged as his knee screamed in protest, and he was forced to rise from his kneeling position.  He resumed his seat across from her, all the while holding her hand.  With shaking fingers, he adorned her petite digit with the band of gold.  He could not be sure that it fit perfectly, but it was there.  On her, where it belonged.

[Garret Arroway]

     It had been a year and a half since he had seen Denrykmar. It has been nine since he had seen Altario. It had been fourteen years since he has crossed the blasted desert and when he had stood at the gates of Bardavos, grey gaze turned south, peering out at stral after stral of vast nothingness, Garret decided it would be a shame to break that last record. So he headed west, to Dasai, purchasing a small nook on the deck of a ship, and the tolerance of the Captain, to take him to the southern most point of the continent. Strata.

     When cramped in a corner of the deck, one massive arm wrapped around the neck of the large wolf that sat beside him, he reviewed the events that had led him there. Loyalty. Loyalty had landed him on his boat, paying an absurd amount to transport himself and his companion to Strata, stuck in a space too small for a rat. While at sea he was fairly even tempered, at least after he had gotten used to the rocking motion of the ship and his stomach stopped refusing to cooperate. The cool breeze and slightly spray of salt water against his skin was a blessing as he new he'd have to deal with the heat of the south once he veered away from the coast.

     Until a messenger had tracked him down one day, Garret had had little contact with Ryk for little over a year, which wasn't that abnormal. Both were fond of the same inns in the larger cities. However, when Garret arrived at the inn that had been mentioned by the messenger, his friend was gone, leaving only a sealed letter and more instructions. This time it was a request that he seek out Altario, Ryk's older brother. While Garret wasn't as close to Alt as he was to the younger brother, he's been a friend of the family for a long while and had fought with the Remusian brothers thirteen years ago.

     Tracking down Altario hadn't been as difficult as he'd thought, though he had begun the journey about three months before he had begun his sea voyage. Word of an older northerner down in the south had trickled past the deserts and into mid-Sarvonia, so south was where Garret had headed. If the rumors proved wrong, he would have lost time and funds, but at least that was one less place to search.

     Strata came into sight and the ship's journey came to an end too soon for Garret's tastes, though Shadowfoot was glad to be back on land. Together they had moved through the city, stopping at taverns, inns, and markets, anywhere they could listen for the rumors. Night had already taken control of the land when he heard talk of an older northerner taking up a somewhat long-term spot at the Thirsty Herald. Garret silently cursed his luck, knowing things could never be easy.

     Taking a room for the night, he slept in an actual bed, happily stretching out to full length rather than curling up into a ball in the corner of a ship. The next morning he had managed to get his hands on a young rusik horse before heading out the Desert Gate of Strata. While it was still somewhat early in the morning, the hot sun beat down on Garret's back, causing the fighter to grumble and mutter curses throughout the day as he moved toward the Thirsty Herald.

     Now, dark had fallen and he sat atop the rust-red horse, shifting uncomfortably. While he had ridden horses often he still hadn't become completely used to the animals and preferred walking. He sat there for a moment, staring at the building in the distance, remembering the one time he'd been there before. It had been fourteen years. He'd cross as an escort to a merchant, who couldn't afford the passage by ship to Strata and had a guide that owed him a favor. So Garret had spent many days under the sun, traipsing across a god-forsaken land just so he could spend his pay on a boat trip back north.

     Garret had dealt with the Frozen Wastes of the north, spent a good deal of time on that deserted wasteland. A couple times he'd thought he'd die out there, many times he bleed out there, crimson soaking into the ice, but he'd take the snow, winds, and cold any day over the sand and heat. Cursing the desert once more he prodded his horse forward slowly to allow a weary Shadowfoot to keep up. I'll only cross this god-forsaken land once more, he told himself, just to get back to Strata, then I'm done with this desert, this sand, this blasted heat.

     Upon reaching the Thirsty Herald, Garret slid down from the rusik's back, tossing the reins to a stable-boy who had run out at the heavy clap of the horse's hooves on the dry earth. He paused for a moment, enjoying the cool breeze of the desert night, thanking what ever god would listen for that little bit of comfort. The noise inside the Herald reached him from the other side of the door as he knelt, brushing the sand from the wolves graying coat as best he could before running his hands through his own hair and down his face, feeling the familiar prickle of his short beard against his hand. For some reason that made him feel older, even though he'd been keeping it that way for the last few years.

     Finally ready to find out if his trip had been in vain or not, Garret stood and stepped forward, pushing the door of the Herald open. A wave of heat, noise, and smells hit him as he entered, reluctantly shutting out the cool breeze. Blinking a little at the bright light he stepped further into the room, reaching down to grab Shadowfoot by the scruff of the neck to make sure he was still with him.

     After a few moments of searching he sighed in relief, heading over to the corner where the person he had been searching for sat. He almost stopped when he noticed Altario was sitting with someone, but he had spent the last three months and some odd days looking for this man, needing to give him a letter the messenger had declared was urgent. So, without pause, Garret strode up to the table, calling out the name of the man before he had covered the distance completely.

     "Altario," Garret said, managing a tired grin. Without any acknowledgement or conversation, he pulled the letter from a pocket within his vest, holding it out for the Remusian to grab.

     "From your brother."

[Damien Scar]

"Oy mate, clear day for saili'n." Damien lifted his head. He peppered beard covered with last nights supper. His stomache roiled and he felt like he was going to heave again, but there was nothing left in him. He steadied himself, turned his head away from the bow of the ship to see who was speaking to him. It was the Captain of the Wildwind; Nathan Or'cell.

Captain Or'cell or Nate as he preferred was a tall drink of water, with long arms, huge hands and fingers; thier skin all brown and weathered, like tanned leather. Damien had to tilt his head just a bit to see him eye to eye and Damien was not a short man. He was wearing a white shirt over which was thrown a black belt which carried his sabre in a short scabbord that hung over the man's left hip. His black pants were bloused and tucked into black leather boots.

"If ye say so, Nate." Damien answered back in the vernacular peculiar to sailors/ "Where we be 'ead'n now?" Damien asked, blurry red eyes looking up at Nate.

Nate let out hearty laugh. "Damien my friend we be 'eadin' south, across the Aetryam Sea. Should give you time to dry out my friend, as we 'ave no rum on board.

Damien just glared.

"Ye drank it all," Nate said laughing once again and then after patting Damien on the shoulder left and went toward his cabin.

The Aetryam Sea! Damien slowly rested his head on the wooden plank of the bow of the ship. How long has he been at sea? Month's...Years? Who knew? After Damien had left Voldar he decided to take a ship instead of walking all over Southern Sarvonia, as he did not like to ride a horse. It was not that he could not ride one, he just preferred to walk instead. His Kyranian heritage had given him the stamina to almost out run a horse on long distances; but that was when he was much younger and very much more sober.

He had went from ship to ship as they went around the western shores of Sarvonia. He must have stopped at every rinky, stinky, harbour saloon that each ship sailed into, found a female companion and drank himself stupid. If he would not wake up in time to catch his original ship, he would just purchase passage on another one and continue on his way.

What drove him to do what he was doing, only he knew. Now he found himself another ship, hungover as usual.

Damien staggered to a bucket full of water and looked down into it. He hardly recognized the face that wavered back at him; dark black, blood shot eyes hidden deep under black bushy eyebrows surrounded by wrinkles stared back at him.

The sea air and harsh weather had leathered his face and his scar had seemed to almost melt away, but you could still see it if you were close enough. His normally shoulder lengthend jet black wavy hair now hung almost to the bottom of his back and was unwashed, unkempt and stunk from the hundred's times he had vomited throughout his voyage. He had grown a bushy black and white peppered beard that was as bad as his hair, even worse, if that were possible?

Suddenly rough hands grabbed his shoulders and shoved him up and away from the bucket. Damien, still hung over, stumbled back into a group of men who held his arms.

"Eh' keep yer dirty 'air and face 'orm our drink'n water," a big bruiser of a sailor yelled at him.

Damien shook off the hands holding him. "I just wanted a drink," Damien said.

""ell no stink'n varmit like ye will be drinkin' from our water," the bruiser answered back.

"Fine, be that way," Damien said as he pushed his away through the sailors heading back to his bunk.

"Oy ne ye not. 'e be tired of yer smell. Ye sleep in the 'ole," the sailor said.

Damien turned around and glared at the big sailor. "I have paid for passage on this vessel so you cannot tell me where I can or cannot sleep," Damien said, his head throbbing and his anger rising.

"Eh, we don'a care. Ye stink, and need a washin, right mates?" The sailor asked.

There was a chorus of replies agreeing with the big man.

"And how are you going to make me?" Damien challenged.

"Dump in the sea, mates," the sailor said.

Damien felt hands grab his arms, he shrugged them off, and hit back. His huge right hand connected to a sailors jaw, breaking it.  The man yelped, as more hands grabbed Damien's arms. He tried to pull away, his left arm came free and with a back knuckled punch hita sailor in his nose, spraying blood all over the man's face. More hands grabbed him and he kicked back hitting some sailors in the shins, who howled, let him go and he again had control of his hands and arms and threw punches into whatever face he saw.  How he wished he had his Sengren. The double bladed axe he always carried was safely stowed away under his bunk as were his good clothes.

Finally he could not fight them all and he felt himself being pulled down. His wrists were roughly tied behind him and his ankles were also tied. He felf himself being pulled upwards until he was hanging upside down over the deck swaying with the pitch and motion of the ship. Damien struggled, like a worm on a hook, as the sailors below him laughed at his expense.

"Put 'im in the sea, mates," Damien heard the sailor say. 

Damien felt himself being moved and saw the deck slowly disappear until he was far out on the boom looking down at the ocean. He yelled for the Captain, but it was never heard as he was dropped from the boom into the water.

Damien had just barely enough time to take a quick breath before he was swallowed up by the ocean. His body held tight by the ropes around his ankles was angled and every once in a while his head would pop out of the water enough for him to gasp for a quick breath of air before he would be under again, twisting around, like a nervous woman's finger in her hair.

His breath was running out. He struggled to get his head above water, but he was too deep and too weak to struggle anymore. His chest felt like a horse was standing on it. His eyes felt like they were about to pop out of his head and his head felt like it was about to burst open. His body, not wanting to die without one last try, hurled itself against the rushing current hoping to bring itself to the top of the water and to air, but it was too weak from lack of oxygen and it began to slowly struggle as Damien slowly fell into unconciousness and his mouth slowly opened leeching out the last bit of air that was in his lungs.

It was hot. He was sweating as he dreamed of all of the women he had met and had bedded. He saw the faces of all of the men he had killed. He spoke to those whom he had known. He finally saw the face of a blonde haired girl who he did not know, yet somehow saw a resemblance to someone he had known. This girl was speaking to him and motioning to him but he did not understand and the more he tried to get closer to her the farther and farther she drifted away.  this was Queprur's domain? Was this what the afterlife was? Living and reliving all of his life; its mistakes and regrets, his lies, betrayals and the love that he could have had. It was almost too unbearable to bear.

He screamed...

Suddenly he felt a soft hands with a wet rag being put on his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked into large dark brown eyes staring back at him. He tried to sit up, but the room started swimming and he was gently pushed back down into the bed.

"You lie still. The fever has finally broke, but you are still very weak and sick," a soft female voice told him.

"Where...Where am I?" He croaked out; his throat dry as corn husks.

"You are in Strata," came back the answer.

[Airyn]

“Hey lady, you look like someone’s put vinegar in your drink. You should try this Desert Wine they’ve got here. Nothing better to rinse the gloom out of your guts! Not in this desert, anyway. You been here long?”

Airyn raised her head from her chin and looked absentmindedly at the woman next to her. She was holding out a glass filled just under halfway. ”Here, it’s the very stuff I was telling you about. Have a sip on me!” She offered, and then turned away to talk to the little girl on her other side. Airyn smiled softly “I apologise,” said the elf, “I may have been lost in my thoughts for a moment.” She took the glass, to be polite, and raised it to her lips. The drink travelled warmly down her throat, leaving the strong flavour in her mouth. Her eyes closed and lingered for no more than a moment before opening once more. The taste was unlike anything she had ever tasted! Much better than the acid-like liquor that was in my glass before. “My, that is different,” she laughed as she placed the glass next to the small bowl of water, which the bird was happily drinking from.

She stared at the rows of alcohol-filled bottles on the other side of the bench, and ran her fingers through her thick hair.“As to your question, friend, I have not been here long at all. I have only just arrived, actually, and...” Airyn found with surprise that the woman was not listening, and had turned her attention to the young girl who was shifting excitedly from foot to foot. The elf giggled, there is always time for that later.
 
She leaned forward, so that her elbows were supporting her chest, and looked up at the woman’s face underneath the bright pink hat perched on her head. As her eyes scanned over the light skin and brown eyes, she noticed a glint of excitement in the woman’s eyes – she had noticed Airyn watching, and was now turning her head to look from the child to the elf and back again. Airyn’s jaw clenched tightly as her eyes found the long and painful looking scar on her left cheek. Her eyes filled with sorrow, but she tried to force her interested to expression remain. How could she have possibly obtained such a mark?  Airyn flicked her eyes to the red-headed girl, who couldn’t stop a toothy grin from appearing on her face as the lady with the pink hat began to speak. Airyn quickly found that she too was enchanted, and completely abandoned her thoughts to listen to an interesting tale about a talkative bird and sea captains...

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Altario held Valannia's smaller hands within his large calloused ones, stroking them softly.  There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much that was just beyond his ability to say aloud.  There were no words, but from the way she stared back at him, he was content in thinking that somehow she knew what he wanted to say.  She knew him, and it amazed him that she did.  She had an insight into him, that he could not explain.  He was not good at speaking, and the etiquette that both of them stood on, did not allow for overly intimate conversations.  Still, he felt she knew his inner self.

"Altario."

He heard his name, but did not want to let anyone ruin this moment for him and his newly betrothed.  There was so much they needed to discuss.  Where would they marry?  Here?  No, that would never do.  Remusia?  Urimpaar?  He would love to take her there, show her the wonders of his homeland and his estate.  But no, that would not do either.  Her home.  Her family around her.  That was what Valannia deserved.  Though, he had heard her speak of Elving as her home, he did not know where it was, exactly.  And as far as her family went, she had barely spoken of them.  The few times he had asked about them, she had grown quiet, and he had not pressed the matter.  Still, with a matter as important as marriage, he was sure that she would want them by her side.

A shadow crossed the table, and Altario was  annoyed to hear his name spoken once more.  He looked up, scowling at the disheveled stranger who had dared disturb this special moment.  The stranger stood there, a friendly grin upon his face.  That grin.  There was something familiar in that grin.  It reminded him of.... "Garret?"  Altario heard the man speak again, something about Denrykmar, but he didn't quite hear it as he stood up quickly and let out a joyous whoop that attracted the attention of more than a few in the room.  He grabbed the larger man and pulled him close into an enthusiastic embrace, holding him tight and pounding his back with his hands.  If his eyes had been dry from the moments with Valannia, they had opened up again, as emotion coursed through him.

He pulled back, hands gripping Garret by the shoulders and he stared at him, as if making sure it was really him.  It had been nearly 10 years or so since he had last seen the young man that was as close as a brother.  "Where have you been?  How have you been?  By the gods, Garret, it is good to see you."  He pulled the man in for one last embrace before releasing him.  He remembered how shy the young man used to be.

Young man.  Altario reached out and mussed Garret's hair.  "You're looking old Garret, but I think we all are now."  He then noticed the large wolf near Garret's side.  He knelt down and reached out to the wolf, allowing the animal to sniff his hand.  "Hey Shadowfoot, I see you haven't run off yet."  

Altario stood and it was then he saw the parchment in Garret's hand, taking it, his hand now trembling.  It would have to be important to have sent Garret to track him down.  Before braking the seal and reading it, Altario turned and extended a hand towards the elfess.  "Garret, may I introduce Valannia.  My betrothed."  He waited to see the slight look of surprise on Garret's face.  "Valannia, this is Garret Arroway.  He is like a brother to me and Denrykmar."

[Garret Arroway]

     A scowl on the Remusian's face signaled to Garret that this was indeed the wrong time and he had interrupted something, but the message was urgent according to the first messenger and so an interruption was necessary. The frown vanished from the man's face and he looked up at Garret.

     "Garret?" Altario asked and Garret's grin only widened again.

     He had held out the letter, announcing that it was from Ryk, but Alt didn't seem to hear and Garret didn't have time to say anything else before he jumped up and pulled him into a tight embrace. Altario and Ryk were the closest thing he'd had to family for the past thirteen years, so it was great to see the older of the brothers.

     "Where have you been? How have you been? By the gods, Garret, it is good to see you."

     "It is good to see ya too Altario. It's been far too long," Garret replied. "Been doin' good. Wanderin' has always suited us and when it doesn't I remember a place I can call home."

     He wasn't sure Altario had heard him as his last statement had been cut off near the end by another joyous embrace from him, though it didn't matter. They'd have time to talk later. With the mention of age Garret's grin waned a bit, and he looked upon his friend. He looked older and worn, with grey in his hair and lines of worry on his face. Time had effect in more than one way. The presence, bearing, and overall feel of the man had changed. He wasn't the same man that Garret had fought with, stayed with, got to know through the years, but neither was Garret. For a moment he mourned the loss of his younger self, though it was short lived. Time always had a way of changing even the smallest things so there was no use getting attached.

     "Aye," was Garret's only response and a sad smile crossed his face for a moment, though it vanished swiftly.

     He grinned as Alt knelt and held out his hand to Shadowfoot, saying a few words as the wolf sniffed than licked his hand lightly before standing. Upon standing he took the note that Garret had carried for three months now, though before opening it he turned toward his companion. Garret had silently wondered who he had been dining with, though he hadn't asked and now he would find out.

     "Garret, may I introduce Valannia. My betrothed," Alt announced, taking Garret by surprise. The fighter turned scout turned wanderer eyed his friend, shocked by the news. "Valannia, this is Garret Arroway. He is like a brother to me and Denrykmar."

     His chest swelled with pride. While the feeling was the same and had been for many years, it was an honor to be introduced as being next to kin to Altario and Ryk. The pair had been closer to him in the thirteen years he had known them than his parents had been in the fourteen years he'd lived with them. Remembering his mannors, so not to disgrace Altario, Garret bowed lightly.

     "A pleasure to meet ya, m'lady," Garret said, feeling the words tumble awkwardly from his mouth.

     To prevent him from making even more of a fool of himself, Garret remained silent after that, a kind smile on his face. After a few moments his grey eyes drifted to the letter in Altario's hand, dreading what was so important, as he doubted Ryk would send him running all the way across the continent in search of Altario if it was nothing.

[grallen gast]

“Spare me.”
Grallen watched from her shadowy spot on the sidelines with a growing expression of distaste. As the couple embraced she averted her gaze and stared sullenly into her mug. It was getting emptier, and that really shouldn’t be allowed to happen.

Yellow eyes flicked to the bar, where a seat had momentarily become absent as its occupant staggered off upstairs. Suddenly Grallen was all movement, slipping eel-like through the tight crush of crowds, to arrive at the empty stool at the exact same moment as a man who had been standing just a ped or so away. As he moved to take the seat, barely even registering her presence, she stamped down, putting the full force of her frustration into one short, decisive movement. The man made a strangled, quiet noise and crashed clumsily sideways into another customer. Grallen gracefully took the stool, crossing her legs ladylike, before turning to the pained-looking man, who appeared still to be unsure what had happened.

“Looks like you’ve had a bit too much, honey. Take care on your way home, huh?”

She smiled sweetly, and turned back to the bar, downing the last of the brandy as she did so, and pushing the mug across the counter with an impatient gesture for a refill.

Behind her, the sound of a man limping painfully from the common room made her smile to herself. See, there’s always someone worse off than you, if you know where to look. She rolled a couple of coins onto the counter and took her drink, swivelling round in her seat to watch the other patrons again. The most-definitely-a-couple-alright-we-get-it-already had been joined by someone new.  She watched with detached interest as they talked, and the few phrases she heard seemed to have a distinctly northern accent. That’s intriguing – it’d be worth keeping an eye on them, in case they’re planning on heading back that way.

Absently she dipped her hand into a concealed pocket on the inside of her jacket, retrieving a small green frog, who sat gulping at her before hopping up her arm to her shoulder, where he settled, in a dark cave made of her hair, watching the world with gold-flecked eyes. Grallen’s hand went to another pocket, and brought out a small box tied with string. Untying it deftly, she picked a small dried maggot from the box and passed it up to Earnest, who swallowed it with the strange inside-out blink that frogs have when they eat.

[Lili the Elfcat]

Lili licked her lips in delight. The little redhead was looking up at her with eyes as big as silverbards, and the elfess seemed to enjoy the drink. Off we go, then! ”All right! So that captain had a long, looong beard that he was being very precious about. Every night he stood watch by the tiller – you know, what they steer the boats with – and combed his beard. Can you imagine! Now, this captain also loved to tell everyone who didn’t want to know how when he was young he had personally fought the fearsome pirate Jovloff. Now Jovloff was a stryke shark of a pirate, he was. He had yellow eyes, was as tall as you and I together, and could bite a cutlass in half with a single ’Crunch!’ of his jaws.” As Lili shouted ‘Crunch’, she clapped her hands together in a sudden vertical movement to produce a loud bang for illustrative purposes.

As she paused for dramatic effect, our jolly storyteller was aware that the elfess had tried to talk to her. Lili didn’t mind that at all, and had no sense that she was being anything other than gregarious and jovial. She was used to sitting around a fire with a bunch of bandits and having several conversations at once. There had never been no polite waiting for an answer before addressing the next person! No-one had ever complained of being interrupted or not being listened to. Most of the time, you got a response later. And if you weren’t heard – why, you just had to shout louder, didn’t you?

What Lili couldn’t understand, though, was this: what, by all the rotten rast-wargs, was the lady apologizing for? Lili, eager to learn the ways of courteous society, thought that she might want to ask about that later. For now, though, there was something more enjoyable to do than to dwell on this particular mystery.

”So that captain of ours, Cragok was his name – like the goat, you know! The Cragok goat! You don’t know it? Lives in the north. Well, this captain was a goat! With his beard! Kassandra and I just called him Captain Goatbeard – you know, between us.” Lili winked at her audience, and let out a hearty laugh at her idea. In fact, she had already forgotten the captain’s name, but ‘Cragok’ and 'Goatbeard' would do very well indeed! ”So! Captain Goatbeard always boasted how he had faced Jovloff the Terrifying Pirate in fight, and that he had swung his sabre and cut off Jovloff’s leg, and that Jovloff had begged for mercy, and all. So Jovloff had a wooden leg from then on. Said Goatbeard, anyway. So Goatbeard the captain always made out how awesome he himself had been. But all he really did all day was boss the First Mate about and comb his beard.

“So one night, Kassandra and I go for a stroll on deck, just to sniff the air, you know. And we stand at the railing and admire the dark sea. It was pitch-black, you know, no stars and no moon, but you could hear the waves rustling against the ship’s hull, and you could hear the wind – wiiishhhhhh – in your ears like. Wonderful night it was. So then we hear the captain and a lady passenger approach. They haven’t seen us, ‘coz it’s all dark. Anyways, they are chatting, and Goatbeard is telling his story again, you know, wanting to impress the lady.” Here Lili imitated Cragok’s voice, high-pitched and arrogant: ’And then, m’lady, I looked into Jovloff’s yellow eyes.’ A small gasp from the lady, you know, all frightened-and-awestruck-like! 'And I said: Bid farewell to your life of villainy, evil rascal! And the pirate shuddered, his teeth chattered, and he couldn't look me in the eye, he was so afraid of me! And I said …’

Lili paused and took a breath. She had talked herself into an enjoyable frenzy. All the way through the story, her arms had gesticulated dramatically, underlining the effects she was trying to get her words to produce. She gave a little giggle before she continued:

And then Kassandra had enough of listening to that baloney, and started singing one of her favourite songs. Loud, you know! At the top of her voice:

'Fifteen robbers on the dead man’s chest! Yohoo! And a bottle of scutch! You won’t save your throat, if you do your best! Yohooooo! And a bottle of scutch!'

And the captain …” Here Lili couldn’t keep herself from laughing at her own story! ”And you know what Captain Goatbeard did? He jumped three peds into the air, and wailed, and called his sailors: ‘The pirates are among us, the pirates are among us! Help! Men, help! All men on deck! The pirates!’ And off he ran, leaving his lady alone in the dark!

Well, the lady was shocked, too, but she  didn’t run off, ‘coz she kind of froze stiff instead at the sudden noise and at her strong captain-man forsaking her, leaving her for the pirates to eat. So I talked to her, explaining how it had only been Kassandra, and the lady understood and we laughed long and hard. And wouldn’t you know, we became quite good friends, that lady and I, and she didn’t go and listen to Goatbeard’s stories ever again. And what’s more, the lady told her lady-friends all about it, and they went on and told their lady-friends, and for the rest of the journey, whenever the captain walked past, all the ladies on the boat giggled and whispered and pointed at him. And the cheeky ones said: ‘Oh, Captain Cragok! Tell us about your fight with the pirates!’ The poor Cragok goat didn’t spend much time on deck from that point on, and when the ship arrived in Strata and we all went on land, you could hear his sigh of relief all the way up to the harbourmaster’s office!”

Lili grinned at the child and at the elfess, who had been listening. She felt she had done rather well, given that she hadn’t even had a drink yet after her ride from Strata. Also, she was pleased that she had managed, in her story, to make herself the friend of a ship-travelling lady. The actual lady's reaction to Kassandra's Robbers' Song had been rather less companionable, and Lili had been the addressee of many an indignant glance for the rest of the journey, from the captain as well as from the lady. But Lili liked the story better the way she'd told it!

With a quick glance about the room, Lili noticed that another patron had found a stool at the bar. Why, if this was not the less-than-tranquil wanderer she had overtaken on the road to the Thirsty Herald! So that city rat seemed to have managed her hike through the desert all right, then! Wait a blink: what was that glimmering behind the long black fringe? Yellow eyes? Was this one of Jovloff’s daughters, then? Inwardly, Lili chuckled at the coincidence. Or had she seen these yellow eyes before she came up with her description of Jovloff? Lili couldn't tell!

Kassandra, meanwhile, had finished her drink, took off from her place on the bar and flattered onto the top of Lili’s pink hat. Green and pink: a daring combination indeed! For the final touch, the daggerbeak dropped a bit of cream-coloured waste onto the pink rim. With a little croak, she then turned her head to watch the little girl once again, with her left eye.

This had happened within a blink of Lili’s finishing her story. ”You like that drink, then?” the cutthroat added with a wink to the elfess, hoping to encourage her fellow adult to praise the child for the quality of the local produce; and also hoping to encourage her to give the tankard back, as Lili’s throat began to feel rather dry after talking so much.

[Lori Lo]

Her hands holding firmly onto the edge of the counter and at the same time impatiently hopping from one foot to the other as if somebody had promised her a great fortune (ten mint kisses for example) Lori Lo waited for the promised story to begin. But to her annoyance the bird-lady turned to that other next to her and offered her the good wine! How silly adults could be, it was meant only for her! But it took not too long and the fabulous story began:

”All right! So that captain had a long, looong beard..

Lori Lo was captured from the beginning. She didn‘t avert her eyes from the woman‘s face, hopping was forgotten and she listened without movement for some time. But when the storyteller clapped her hands, Lori was startled for a moment, but then she clapped her hands as well and couldn‘t wait, till the woman continued narrating. The girls eyes beamed and she got hot with excitement. When the woman winked at her audience, and let out a hearty laugh Lori giggled along with her.

Lori‘s eyes went wide and her hands covered her mouth (which was standing open for quite some time now), when the woman imitated the Captains voice:

’And then, m’lady, I looked into Jovloff’s yellow eyes.’ A small gasp from the lady, you know, all frightened-and-awestruck-like! 'And I said: Bid farewell to your life of villainy, evil rascal!...

And an excited hopping started again when the bird-lady came to the end of the story, Lori laughed along with her, though she didn‘t know the end yet, so infectious was her laughter. 

Unfortunately the story was over too soon, as all good stories, especially when they were narrated so well. This green bird made some fuss when he jumped on the pink hat of that wonderfully story telling lady, but it seemed, that it was allowed to that. Lori did not question that, but clapped her hands with joy, when the bird observed her.

Lori Lo was full of excitement and happy, for this story had been so great, but she regretted, that all was over now. Though she had met already a lot of strange people in the Herald, rarely came somebody along who was so interesting. Most were rough guys who stamped around showing their muscles and their weapons, if they had some. Some tried to hide in the crowd or in the shadows, sometimes women were with them, but not many impressed the little girl anymore. There were some exceptions - Lori looked at were Altario had been sitting (for he was one of the exceptions) , but not many.  -  Ahh, that elven Lady was now over there with him, but somehow she looked not as happy as Lori had anticipated. Altario had waited for her when she had joined him earlier this evening, and he had been very nervous and tense, otherwise he would have eaten that loibl. Mentally shaking her head,  Lori put her arm on the counter,  rested her head in her hand while she observed the scene. There was somebody with Altario Lori had not seen before, and he had the full attention of Altario while the pretty blonde elven lady looked a bit - forlorn? Lori felt pity for her, for Altario was really a nice guy and she didn‘t like either, when somebody came to get him, while he was playing with her. But in the moment Lori was about to leave the barto comfort the elven lady  -  the pink-hat-green-bird-lady was talking anyway to the woman on her other side, her gaze fell on something very different.

Another customer at the counter had a green frog sitting in front of him and that frog climbed up the arm and vanished somewhere near the neck. And then, obviously, it was fed.

What for a day! First a green bird, then a green frog which lived on the shoulder of a.. man.. no, woman.. or a ..  what? Lori looked closer, but meanwhile it was getting darker outside and it was anyway quite louring inside  the room in this corner. Curiosity is what drives little children and Lori was quite  severely infected by this malady. Unfortunately she was still a bit too small for serving drinks when standing behind the bar, with that serving area in front of the counter. But when the world has to be investigated, nothing will hinder a young spirit. So Lori, after she had made sure, that neither Moira nor Ana‘Mirl were to see, took a stool, climbed on the serving area and loweredherself on her knees , now heads up with the customer on the other side. And opposite of her was that interesting person with the frog. Where was this frog?

Lori looked in yellow eyes, so yellow, she  was a bit afraid when she saw their piercing look. The skin of that person was somewhat dark, black hair covered quite a bit of that  face. If Ana‘Mirl would see this, she‘d run for a comb. And that hood, it was really hard to see, who was sitting here. But that frog had to be somewhere.

With the impartiality of young children and the fearlessness only those have who know that they are loved and accepted as they are Lori simply asked - but of course not without introducing herself first, for that was always a good way to draw somebody potentially dangerous out of his shell:

„Hey, I‘m Lori! And who are you? And where is that green frog you have?“

[Airyn]

The elfess jumped at the piercing sound of the storyteller shouting the word "crunch." She had been listening so intently, and the clap of the lady's hands and the sound of her cry had startled her, yes, but it had only added personality to the story; something that she found herself never being able to do. Her smile only widened when she was told of his vanity, and even laughed as it reminded her greatly of her brothers and their obsessions with little more than themselves.

The thought of her younger brothers ignited a feeling of loss and separation in her chest. Why, the last time she had seen those two rascals they were fighting over who was to accompany their older sister back to Xaramon, as her visit to Nybelmar had drawn to an end. After minutes of squabbling, it so happened that neither of them came back with her, because they had finally figured out that they didn't have the faintest idea of what to do when they got there. Being an older sibling had begun to mean more than just simply love and the occasional annoyance in these last few months. It seemed like only seconds ago that they had been born, no more than a few minutes apart, and she was there helping her mother take care of them. Now they were separated, and she would not see them again for a long while. Airyn felt that the bond between siblings was just as great as the bond between a mother an her daughter, or a father and his son. The elf never did have a sister, so having twin brothers was the next best thing.

The story's pause for effect had ended as quickly as it had begun, and Airyn found herself once more entangled in the thrill and excitement of the tale...
"So! Captain Goatbeard always boasted how he had faced Jovloff the Terrifying Pirate in fight, and that he had swung his sabre and cut off Jovloff’s leg, and that Jovloff had begged for mercy, and all."
The captain had fought the infamous Jovloff? He must have been brave. But then again, any old captain could turn around and say that they had fought a fierce pirate and lived to tell the tale, but to cut off his leg? This elf would not be fooled. Not easily anyway. Still, if this woman had witnessed this man telling weaving this tale, then surely it must be true!

She laughed again at the whooshing sound, made to imitate the sound of rushing wind. Remembering her own trips across the sea, she could almost feel the force of the wind blowing against her face; messing with her hair, and drying her eyes. The smell of salt and rain washing over her. All of these thoughts at once! She could barely manage to concentrate on what was being said without having some sort of memory be raised. Oh well, it was worth listening to and this woman sure knew how to tell a story!

Airyn started to feel as if giggling had become contageous, as she found that the three of them were now laughing at the captain's reaction to the green bird's singing. "And you know what Captain Goatbeard did? He jumped three peds into the air, and wailed, and called his sailors: ‘The pirates are among us, the pirates are among us! Help! Men, help! All men on deck! The pirates!’ And off he ran, leaving his lady alone in the dark!" She continued, not letting the moment ruin the humour and suspense.

Soon enough, the story had ended, and the elfess discovered herself to be quite satisfied. Usually, she would not have involved in conversation with someone she didn't know, but what does it matter? It earned her a long laugh and had given her the opportunity to meet someone without feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable, which was always an improvement. Airyn leaned further forward and opened her mouth to ask the charming little girl for her name, but she had quickly disappeared to speak to the smug looking traveller with yellow eyes, one or two seats away. She was a child after all, and no child could be expected to stay in one place for too long.

"You like that drink, then?" The lady asked, winking cheerfully at the elf. Airyn nodded and gestured to the glass that she had placed next to the, now empty, bowl of water. "I did, thankyou. I found it tasting much better than what I'd had just a moment ago. I would thank that child for it's delivery, but it seems that she has run off already!" She felt entirely comfortable with the conversation, which was a surprise to her.

There was a short silence after Airyn had finshed speaking, but she wasn't about to let the woman walk away and leave her with no one to talk to! "You are a wonderful storyteller," the elfess complimented her companion, "I would love to know where you found the ability of telling a tale with such excitement."

[Lili the Elfcat]

Lili smiled as she saw the little girl run off. She knows how to live: as soon as one story is over, go seek out the next one! Lili was very pleased that the elven lady was still standing next to her. She’d met many a person, male and female, who had turned their backs on her before the first tankard of wine was emptied. Oh, where was that tankard, by the way? Ah, standing on the bar. Lili made sure she grabbed it. And the elfess – politely, politely – had left some booze for Lili! And neither had she been scared off by talk of pirates and severed legs. And this was a real fine lady in a neat dress who spoke all sophisticated-like, but still didn’t turn up her nose at her and Kassandra. Lili felt strangely honoured and exhillarated - a bit like she imagined the little girl must have felt when Lili had decided to make her order with her instead of the grown-up barmaid. And now the elfess even asked her a question:

"You are a wonderful storyteller. I would love to know where you found the ability of telling a tale with such excitement."

That was an uncomfortable moment for Lili. She couldn’t very well say: Oh, you know, in the evenings, when I was sitting around the fire with my horde of bandits, enjoying the mead we’d got from ransacking that trade convoy, when fifteen drunken robbers were all shouting at the same time, each bragging he’d slit more throats that day than everyone else together – why, if I wanted to get any word in at all, I had to come up with something worth hearing!  So Lili didn’t say it. Instead she replied light-heartedly:

”Ah, well, you know, it’s just Kassandra really.” With her free hand, the one that didn’t hold the tankard, Lili pointed at the bird perched on her head, who in the meantime had turned its attention to the elfess and had listened intently as she had spoken. ”She comes up with the most uproarious pranks. I’ll never be out of tales to tell as long as she’s with me.”

Not sure what to say next, Lili took a big swig from the tankard, and --- was in for a surprise: This was not the desert wine she had longed for! This stuff was better by far! It prickled on your tongue like knives, it scratched your palate like rusty nails, and it rolled in your gullet like thick honey! ”Upon my bellybutton! This is the most murderous mouthful I’ve had since I’ve come down south. Who would’ve thought the finest sap flows at the edge of the desert? And why didn’t I get to guzzle this glue last time I was here?”

Then Lili spotted something behind the elfess’ back. Winking at her new companion, she pointed at the scene: ”Oh look, the little rascal has found new company.” This company consisted of the weary wanderer with yellow eyes that Lili had noticed before. At that moment, Kassandra decided she had heard enough, and spoke. And when she spoke, it was exactly in the voice of the little girl she had listened to a short while ago – or, to be precise, one story and one tankard of wine ago: ”I don‘t bother any guests. You don‘t even know yet, what is served here, I‘m here much longer and know much more than YOU!“ That was true, thought Lili - the girl had  said that. Maybe she got out the special wine for me?

[grallen gast]

„Hey, I‘m Lori! And who are you? And where is that green frog you have?“

Startled from her reveries, but with no intention of showing it, Grallen paused, for a second, trying to remember where she’d heard that voice. Very recently. Now connect it to a picture – oh, it’s just a kid working at the bar. She lifted her gaze to meet the human child’s grey, round eyes.

Clearly this place isn’t as rough as it looks. For a long moment she inspected the girl, and a slow, cro’cuta smile spread softly over her face.

“I’m afraid Ernest doesn’t come out of hiding for just anyone.” Her voice was quiet, nearly lost amid the cosy murmur of the inn, and slightly hoarse in tone, though by no means the rough growl that might be expected from an orc. “He’s a very reclusive frog, particular in the company he keeps. I’m afraid it’s beyond my powers of persuasion to just summon him, as if he were a common pet. You’ll have to offer some form of incentive.”

She paused for a moment, not entirely sure where she’d gotten to, or why she was headed that way. Oh yes. Through the growing murk of two stiff brandies and not much sleep lately, the thought returned to her. She was, in short, bored of waiting for some guide to fortuitously present themselves. Never been good at letting things work themselves out. Now a small child who sees to know this inn, and doesn’t appear to be supervised, pops up, so if I can’t get some useful information out of her then I really should just jack this in and take up warg farming.

Her eyes once again met Lori’s, and her grin widened to display an unusually pointed set of teeth. she picked up the small box of grubs, and offered it to the girl. On her shoulder, she felt Earnest shuffle round to see where his food box had gone.

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Tentatively, and with trembling fingers, Altario broke the wax seal that held the parchment closed.  What had Denrykmar felt was so important that he would need to send Garret to deliver the message?  Was he in trouble?  Had he found Nayriss?  Had Nayriss di-... no, he would not allow himself to consider that possibility.  

He glanced from the letter as he opened it, his eyes meeting with Valania's, drawing strength from her support.  He then looked down at the hand scrawled note written on the page of the letter:

   “Altario:
     I pray to Kor’och that this letter finds you safe. There is so much I want to tell you, but I dare not do so in a letter. I need your help, Alt. I need your help for myself, and for Nayriss. I have discovered clues that I believe can lead me to her. I have never given up looking, as I know you have not.

     There is so much danger; I do not know anymore who I can trust. I wish we were together, I know I can trust you. I need you to find the Beauty of the South. It is imperative.  Do this for me, Alt.

     Be careful, big brother. Evil exists. It watches us. And it will move against us.

Kor'och's Grace, Denrykmar”

Altario read it a second time, then a third.  This letter said almost nothing.  What was Denrykmar trying to tell him?  He had discovered clues, but what clues?  It did Altario no good if he didn't know the same clues.  Dammit, Denrykmar, what are trying to say?  What danger?  There was danger everywhere if you weren't careful, but his brother made it sound like it was specific to the search for Nayriss.  Evil exists?  It watches us?  Move against us?  What did that mean?

He looked up at Garret, but he knew that the man would have no clue either.  Ryk had only used Garret as a messenger in this, which was strange in itself.  Under normal circumstances, Ryk would have counted on Garret before anyone else, including Altario himself.  The two were closer than Denrykmar was with anyone in this world.  For some reason, however, he did not do that this time.  The counter intuitiveness of it bothered Altario greatly.

The last item that bothered Altario was the plea for him to find the "Beauty of the South".  What was that?  He had no clue what that could refer to.  By the tone in Ryk's letter, it was important though.  The tone was what bothered Altario the most.  It was.... desperate.  He had never known Denrykmar to ever be desperate, even during the dark days of the war.  Thousands of orcs trying to break down the walls, and Denrykmar found time to romance two women, Trina the barmaid, and... that foreign woman Alt could not remember at the moment.  But that wasn't important now.  No, if Denrykmar sounded desperate, something big was happening.  Something that had to do with Nayriss.

Altario glanced at Valannia once more, and for a brief moment, he was ashamed that he had spent so much time here, finding happiness and love while his daughter was lost.  How could he have been so selfish?  He, Nayriss' father was finding love, while Denrykmar, her uncle, kept the vigil in looking for her.  He had failed as a father.  Embarrassed, Altario could no longer look at Valannia.

Instead, letter in hand, he strode purposefully to the bar, squeezing between a fashionable elfess, and some dirty traveller who was now the attention of the young and inquisitive Lori-lo.  He leaned against the counter.  "Ana.  Ana!"   he called above the din of the crowd. "I wish to settle my affairs tonight.  I'll be leaving by morning."  Then, almost as an afterthought, "Ana, have you ever heard of the 'Beauty of the South'?"  The tavern woman knew many interesting facets of the area, and of Strata.  If anyone knew what that might mean, she would.

[Damien Scar]

Strata

Strata? thought Damien as he obiedently laid his head back down; which was unusual for Damien usually is the one who gave orders, not obey them. Where in the world is Strata? He continued to think, closing his eyes trying to remember how he got wherever he was.

He recalled a ship, but he had been on many ships leaving Voldar. What was the blasted name of the ship, Whirl, something or other? No that did not sound right. What in blazes was the name of the ship? His head ached even more as he tried to remember. If he had a drink, then he could remember, he said to himsefl.

He heard the soft rustle of fabric coming his way and he opened his eyes to see who it was. A young lady, not quite a full grown woman, but beyond her youth, somewhere around nineteen or twenty, he guessed. She approached him carrying a bowl and a rag hanging over her left shoulder forearm. She was dressed almost completely all in a white gauze type of dress from her shoulders down to the floor, long silky shiny jet black hair was braided and hung by a single braid down her back: her eyes matching the color of her eyes were wide, startling beautiful under graceful lined eyebrows, and showed intelligence.

She pulled a stool closer to his cot and sat down. She smiled at him. A soft gentle smile, not one of endearment, but more of...kindness. Something Damien had not seen a long long time, nor did he want to see it, for it brought back memories of...someone he would rather forget.

"Where is Strata and how did I get here?" He croaked out.

"Strata is the home of Baveras, the goddess of the sea," She answered with a sing song quality in her voice as she dipped the rag into the bowl, wrung it out and then proceeded to place it on his forehead.

He grabbed her wrist, and spat at the floor. "God's and goddesse's, as far as I am concerned they can all go to Coor. They play with peoples lives, hearts and then just when you think you can live your life in peace in prosperity, they pull it all out from under you just like a rug!"  Just tell me where I am," Damien demanded.

"You are hurting my wrist, " She cried, the vehemence coming from this man frightened her.

Damien looked at her wrist and could see that it was already turning purple. A part of him, deep down, realized that he was hurting her and he let her go.  She took her wrist rubbed it with her other hand, and continued to minister unto him. "Strata is on the Southern tip of Sarvonia and a Captain of a ship that you were on brought you here," She answered.

"What was the name of the Captain?" Damien asked.

"I shall find out for you, please excuse me for a moment." She rose and walked toward a door at the far end of the room they were in. Damien saw that the tip of her braid ended almost at the beginning of a very nicely shaped bottom, and her dress was not a dress at all but was layers of cloth on top of one another making them look like a dress. He wondered how many layers she had on before she was naked as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The room in which he lay in was not much of a room at all. One medium sized window was over his left shoulder and shuttered, with the shutters open. Damien could hear voices coming from below, but did not recognize the language. The window must have been facing west for he could see deepining shadows across the room on the far wall across from his. He rose to look out of the window and suddenly a sharp pain wracked his chest as he took in a deep breath, he also found out he was completely naked underneath the sheet that had been placed over him. A wicked thought came to his mind as he thought if the young lady had been the one that undressed him. No, there probably has to be some men in this place, he reasoned, as he lay back down, trying to straighten the wet cloth that was placed upon his head, his chest hurting from the exertion, and just in time for the door opened and she came back in.

She frowned at him. "I thought I told you to lie down, but I have already felt that you are a man who does not care what others say or do; you just care for yourself," she said sarcastically.

She could not have been farther from the truth, for her words bit into Damien as sure as a snake bite and he could feel the venom already running up his veins. Blast this, he did not want to feel kindness, did not want kindness, he wanted...he wanted a drink and a woman for the night and he sure was not going to get it here!

He half rose keeping his lower half covered, the room began spinning, but with pure determination he willed the room to stop, well at least a little. "What was the Captain's name? And where are my clothes?" He asked, his voice still hoarse and it hurt when he took in a deep breath, like someone had kicked him in the ribs.

Still a bit frightened from the man she answered him a bit more timidly than usual, "His name was Or'cell, Captain Nathan Or'cell, and unlike yourself he is an honorable man. He told us that he caught his men trying to drown you, but caught you just in time. However the sea water you must have swallowed during this ordeal left you with an infection inside your lungs. You were delerious when he brought you here along with a trunk." She pointed to the trunk next to the far wall. He told us to help you and that if we could that you could pay for our services as you were a very rich man." She doubted that but that is what the Captain had told her other sisters.

Damien did not want to look up into the damsel's eyes. He knew all he would see would either be pity or kindess or both and he did not want either. "Thank you," he said. "Is there anything to drink in this place?" he asked.

"If you meanAlcohol, yes. But in your condition I would not recommend it. We, my sisters and I were paid some coin to take care of you. We rented two rooms above the Seashoals Inn. I recommend you drink only water until your condition improves.

just water. Well it was better than nothing to help cool his throat. Blast it was hot here. He picked up the cup, dipped it into the jug of water, filled his cup and drank from it. He was surprised at how sweet and cool it was. He drank thirstily until he drained his cup and filled it once more.

He looked up and the damsel was still standing there holding onto a bottle of something staring at him. Her face had the look of impatience on it, but her eyes told him something else; kindness and pity; two things he did not want nor need, or did he, something deep down inside him asked?

He took another drink. "What is that?" He asked pointing with the cup.

"It is medication to help with your breathing," she answered.

"Ok, come and give it to me."

She hesitated.

"I won't bite...promise," Damien said, giving the damsel a weak smile and layed back down.

A quick smile crossed her lips and she again took her seat next to his bed. She took his cup from his hand, and for a brief moment they touched. She looked at him with those eyes again and Damien could not stand it for long. "Just give me the medicine and let me get some rest...please" He added.

She quickly pulled her hand from his, as if she had done something wrong, and very buisness like poured out the water that was in his cup, pulled the cork stopper from the medicine bottle and poured in the rainbow colored substance into it. To Damien it looked liked sand. Then she took another cup, filled it with water and poured it into his cup. She swirled the cup a few times and then handed it to Damien. "Drink it all," she said.

Damien propped himself up on an elbow and looked suspiciously at the water. It was as clear as when he had it before. He could not smell anything different. He gazed at her, gave her a wink, and with one gulp drank the watered medicine. He was expecting some sort of terrible taste, but it was sweet, almost like honey. He was pleasantly surprised, and smacked his lips. "That tasted good, what is it?" he asked.

"I do not know the name of it, I am but an apprentice. I shall leave you alone now as you requested. The medicine will help you sleep as it does its work," she answered as she rose from the chair.

Damien gently touched her arm. She stopped, turned her head and looked down at him, questionally. "What is your name?" He asked.

"My name is Yr'iss," she answered. "And yours?" She asked.

"Lost," he replied.

"That is not a name, but a condition," she said with an edge to her voice as she pulled her arm away from his grasp and walked to the door. She hesitated, as if she were waiting for something, but it did not come, so she opened the door, walked into the hallway beyond and closed it.

"Damien, Damien, lost blasted Scar," Damien whispered as he lay back down and soltly whispered "Yr'iss. The name had a ring to it, why did it sound familiar? The answer never came for soon he was asleep.

[Lori Lo]

Lori watched the hooded figure and was about to retreat from her high seat, so long were these yellow eyes looking at her without a word leaving the mouth which belonged to the same face, but finally a smile appeared. She smiles as if she wants to eat me right now, Lori thought, but then the desired answer came and  Lori was enthralled, even if the answer was not what she had hoped for.

“I’m afraid Ernest doesn’t come out of hiding for just anyone. He’s a very reclusive frog, particular in the company he keeps. I’m afraid it’s beyond my powers of persuasion to just summon him, as if he were a common pet. You’ll have to offer some form of incentive.”

She voice was not unfriendly, a bit hoarse, but the majority of voices in the Herald was hoarse, be it from age or too much dwarven ale,  so nothing new to Lori. The child was mildly disappointed and was about to ask, if the stranger could not just pick the frog Ernest from wherever it hid, when a box of grubs was offered to her. FOOD, food for the frog!

Lori picked one and held it close to that jungle of black hair and she thought she had already seen a glimpse of green, when Altario pushed to the bar between that elfess who had taken the Shendar wine (instead of the bird-lady)  and the frog-person. If there had been a glimpse of green, it was gone. What made it worse was, that Altario loudly called for Ana‘Mirl and she would not be amused to find her sitting on the counter. So Lori quickly whispered to the frog-person:

See you later!

There was a grub though in her fingers which had not met its destination yet, the stomach of a green frog. What a pity it is not alive anymore!  With this thought she slipped it in one of Altario‘s pockets, before she vanished from sight.

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