Board Story - The story

[cipher]

After the battle that claimed his father's life Salem had carried his body back to the Elven city of Marith. There he was laied rest in a sacred burial ground, Salem's father was well liked and his bloodline could be traced back to the founders of Marith. Salem, Raaguvar and Ishtar all joined the guard of the city becuase of the increased raides on its boarders. Once his father's death was behind him he began training, focusing on his magic abilities more than ever. Raaguvar thaught him about nature and the solace and peace you can find within it. Ishtar helped him increase his proficiency with the staff and sling; she also became a close friend in a time in a time when he needed one the most. As time went on he began to miss the adventures he went on with his father. Salem grew tiresome within the walls of Marith and would often find himself venturing out of its borders, mostly just for a long walk to clear his head of thought.

On one particular day Salem decided to take a couple days off from his guard duty to visit a the small village of Taren(three days walk from Marith). Arriving at Taren; he checked in at the local inn, had a bit to eat and went of to bed. The next morning he went to the smithy to get his sling repaired, he had broken it in a skirmish with a goblin on his way up to Taren. Then Salem went to the lake just west of Taren, it had been his favorite place as a child, he believes it the most beautiful sight in all of the land. The clear pale blue water is filled with brightly colored fish, so vibrant it looks like a rainbow when they swim together.

Salem spent the whole day at the lake untill he returned back to the inn. Salem greeted the barkeep wih a friendly hello and orderd an ale.
"Did ya take in some of the games today," inquired the barkeep.
"Uhh no I didn't I was up at the lake for the day," replied Salem unsure what game he was talking about"
"Ah the lake, a beautiful sight she is,"
Salem replied by nodded while he sipped his ale.
"I'll let you in on a little secret,"said the barkeep. "There have been rumors of a slave roit out at the arena, nobody knows for sure but its going to happen soon."
Salem finally reliased what games he was talking about. It was the gladatorial games, Salem had remembered hearing about them. He was interested in this information and decided that he would investigate tommorow.
"Thankyou for the ale but I'm feeling a bit slugish and I think a good rest would do me a world of good."
With that Salem headed of to his room for the night.

* * *

The crowed went up in a roar, as two gladators battled for the right to live. Salem Val'dor watched on with no partiular interest; he dispised this type of combat. The real reson he came to the small fighting arena just outside the village of Taren was becuase of the rumors that a slave revolt was brewing. Since he thought the idea of slaves being forced to mutilate and kill there opponents for a crowds entertanment was appaling, Salem was eager to help in the cause. The crowed roared even loader, the fight had finished and another slave's life ended meaningless.


(to be continued)

[cipher]

(written by werebeargoddess)

Kitty groaned, opened her eyes, and laughed. She was staring right into the eyes of her animal companion, Phraen. <What is it?> he thought at her.
<Nothing> Kitty answered. <Just that your fur is tickling my nose.> They had a mind- link, which meant that they knew how the other was thinking, and that they could speak mind-to- mind, whithout having to speak out loud.
<Huh. You never laugh when I usually try to tickle you.>
<Fine. Let's just say you startled me into laughing.>
Kitty pushed Phraen off her, and walked down to the lake to wash her face. When she got back to her camp, she changed into clean clothes and got something to eat.
<There've been rumors spreading.> Phraen told her as she ate.
Kitty paused. <There have? About what, and where? They're not hurting animals, are they?> Kitty asked her friend worriedly.
<The rumors say that a slave revolt is growing over in Taren. No animals are involved, from what I've heard>
Kitty snorted. <Why are the slaves revolting?>
<Dunno. Probably mistreatment. Wanna do something about it, Kit?>
Kitty shrugged, and continued eating. <We don't have to get involved, but we should check it out. Those slaves might need help, depending on why they're revolting.>
Phraen looked curiously at her.<You're changing. Used to be you wouldn't help a soul. Now you're going so far to help slaves.> Kitty glared at him.
<Look, wolf. I don't want to see those slaves slaughtered. Unless they get help, that's what's going to happen. And Silvanus only know I've had enough of that. Now lets get a move on it, Phraen. We're going to Taren.>
Whithin half an hour she had packed up her few belongings. With her staff in hand and Phraen by her side, she marched to Taren.

[cipher]

(written by Golden Lion 86)

It had been a busy day, as everyone prepared for the great Gladiatorial battle held yearly at the Lion's Den Tavern and Eatery. The battle involved twenty Slave-Gladiators competing against one another in groups of two. Mercenaries had been hired to keep an eye on the event, and to prevent such a force from turning on the crowd. In the hour before the battle, several pairs of Gladiators sparring in one-on-one contest.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Stanislav, a large Slave-Gladiator of sixteen, prepared to enter the arena, and to battle the self-proclaimed "Brutus", a real brute of a man, who never thought twice before sinking his sword into the heart of his foes. He killed not for the crowd, not for himself, but for the sheer pleasure he took in watching his opponent's life drain from his eyes. He had fought many Gladiators and was somewhat of a veteran. He fought Stanislav once before, five years ago. Stanislav was defeated then, but spared, because only Gladiators over fifteen fought to the death. Stanislav, however, was large for his age, as large as a small-end average man. This was due to his lineage.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He came from a village of hunters and farmers far to the north, whose people had evolved larger and stronger than normal Humans, to better withstand the harsh conditions of life. Three years into his life, his village was overrun by invaders and he was taken prisoner. For three years, he served as a stable-boy for the Lion's Den Inn. Finally, the proprietor, a vicious and greedy half-elf by the name of Lucius decided to test Stanislav's mettle in the gladiatorial arena. He set him up against other children he held as slaves, and they would fight until one of the opponents was knocked unconscious. When the children became too easy for Stanislav to defeat, Lucius made him fight dogs and large weasels. In time, even these fell, but not without putting some lacerations on Stanislav's flesh. When he was ten, Stanislav was first permitted to compete against men. He did not win the first few times, but improved his skills with daily practice and exercise. It was kill or be killed, and he did what he had to survive. He had never taken a life before he met Brutus in the arena. The overwhelming shame of that particular defeat pushed him beyond reason. He began to devote each day to practice and exercise, developing heavy muscles and a steadier hand for the swing. before long, he began to dominate the ring. First, novices fell, then, he fought stronger men. After a few years, he was practically invincible. Lucius decided to capture a bear and force Stanislav to "retire" in glorious battle against such a savage beast. Alas for Lucius, Stanislav defeated the bear after only an hour of combat, by discovering a vulnerability in his right arm. Since then, Stanislav was nicknamed "the Lion" for his prowess in battle. He fought and won every engagement from the bear to this day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Today, however, was different. He fought Brutus, a man of skill and bloodlust. Stanislav had prepared for this battle for five years, and he swore that Brutus would die today. Stanislav drew his gladii and displayed them to the audience. The crowd cheered, then suddenly stopped as Brutus raised his fist.
"Let us begin!" He said. "And may you find your place among the vanquished, boy!"
"You have much to answer for, animal!" Stanislav replied. "and it is you who will present yourself, to be judged before your victims!"
Without further hesitation, Stanislav engaged Brutus, delivering blow after blow, as Brutus parried each one. He swung his sword at Stanislav and was also blocked. Then, an interesting thing happened. As Brutus prepared to swing his sword again, Stanislav dropped to the floor and rolled past him on his left. Before Brutus could recove from his missed blow, Stanislav was behind him, and before Brutus turned to face his foe, Stanislav plunged his right gladius int Brutus' shoulder. collapsing his right lung. Brutus gave off a shriek and feel to his knees. With his left gladius, Stanislav stabbed Brutus in the neck, killing him instantly. THe blade came out of his throat and spilled bolld onto the sand. Brutus fell with a loud thud and did not even convulse. Stanislav raised his gladii in victory, but the crowd remained silent. After a few moments, they began to shout in disapproval.
"Are you not duly entertained, you barbarians?" Stanislav asked. "I killed the fool and yet you want more? Well, perhaps one of you will face me? Perhaps you?"
He pointed one of his gladii at a quiet elf at the bar. The elf raised his head and shook it in negation.
"No?" Stanislav cried. "That's odd. I thought you free men were supposed to be better than I. But you are cowards, all of you! You are less than I am, for you are nothing!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He walked off the stage and entered the slaves' tent. He was mildly tired, and sat down to drink some water. He looked at his gladii, and then at the other slaves.
"Are you all prepared?" He asked. "Tonight is our only chance. We escape, or we die."
"We will follow you, young one." An old Gladiator said. "I will taste the apples of my land once more before I die!"
"It is agreed then!" Stanislav said as he sheathed his left gladius. He raised his right one into the air and cried "Victory is Life!"
"Victory is Life!" Replied the slaves.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The main event was about to begin. ten gladiators, armed with spears, gladii and shields, stepped onto the arena. They were dressed in red, and Stanislav was among them. Another group, armed identically but clad in black, entered the arena from the opposite door. They moved into a triangular formation, just as the red group did the same. The arbitor cried: "Begin!" to signal the start of the battle.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Violently did the battle start as the two triangles threw their spears at the guards outside the arena. Many fell to the ground, but some survived and moved in to stop the revolt. THe slaves drew their swords and dispersed in the arena. The guards also scattered to follow the individual slaves, but as each guard caught a gladiator, another came and slashed his back, killing him. All but five guards survived, and these were surrounded by the eighteen remaining Gladiators. A dozen more came from the tent to help the escapees, bearing spears enough for all. Before the spears could be distributed, the guards were executed. Stanislav sheathed his gladii and looked at the bar. He saw Lucius standing there, in shock, and when the vile slaver noticed the young man's firey gaze, he reached for his sword. Lucius was a man of no small skill, but no match for a veteran Gladiator. Stanislav advanced toward Lucius and seung his sword. Lucius' weapon fell to the ground and broke, and the half-elf himself retreated to the back wall. Stanislav cornered him and put his blade to Lucius' throat. He reached into Lucius money pouch and took out a gold coin. He looked at it and then back at Lucius.
"You kill us for these?!" Stanislav cried in outrage as he fiddled with the coin. "Well, now the roles are reversed. Watch, as they kill you for us."
He put the coin to Lucius' right eye, and with a the handle of his gladius, he drove it through. Lucius fell to the ground and bled. He was brain-dead.
"Victory!" Cried Stanislav
"Life!" Answered the Gladiators.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As the gladiators salvaged what food and drink survived the insurrection, Stanislav noticed the taciturn elf walk up to him. He put his handle on his hilt and slowed down, apprehensive of te young Gladiator. Stanislav walked up to him and said "Hello, friend! I might follow up on my challenge, but I no longer fight for sport."
They both smiled.

[cipher]

(written by Asriel)



------------------------
Wake up son...

Wake up.....

Duncan tossed, he could see his father's face in his sleep.

Awake my son...

Now his mother was there as well.

Now wake up!

----------------

Duncan opened his eyes, he could hear someone whispering close by.

"Bandits!" he thought, he pretended to remain sleeping as he prepared himself for what he knew would come. He could hear someone closing in on him. He twisted around and grabbed the mans wrist with his right hand, while landing a punch on his assailant’s jaw with his left and driving his knee into the man’s groin. The man cried out and rolled over to his right. Duncan grabbed his katana which, as always, lay right beside him. He jumped up and saw his foes.

There were five of them. Including the man on the ground.
"Bloody 'ell" one of them said,
"Let's get him boys!" another one cried out, and all of them lunged at him.
Duncan parried a thrust by a short sword, and then he slashed across the man's throat, who gurgled and fell to the ground. Another man swung at him with a flail but Duncan ducked quickly and immediately pierced the man’s stomach and he fell to the ground, clutching his wound.

The two remaining men circled him slowly. Duncan could see the fear in the men's eyes. One had two daggers, the other had a bastard sword. When they were at opposite sides of him, the man with the daggers yelled "NOW!", and they both lunged at him simultaneously. To dodge the daggers, Duncan rolled backwards, got to a knee stand and stabbed the man behind him with his katana. The man screamed out and fell down.

Duncan got to his feet and looked at the man with the daggers. This guy was apparently the leader and by far the most proficient with his weapons in the gang.
The man attacked Duncan with a furious speed, Duncan had to parry high and low to avoid the man's furious daggers. He parried each blow while waiting for his chance...

There! As the man slashed at Duncan from above, Duncan parried with all his strength and watched as the dagger flew from the man's hands. Exploiting the surprise of his opponent, Duncan quickly slashed at the man’s neck, decapitating him instantly.
Duncan lowered his sword.
There were now four dead bodies around him on the ground. He went over to the man he had first knocked over.

"Who do you work for!" he asked the man
"I don't know anything" the man stuttered
"Oh really?" Duncan asked as we whipped of the blood from his katana onto the man's face.
The gesture worked, as the man gasped in terror
"All right, all right, we worked for the slavers in Taren. We were told to capture anyone we saw unprotected around here. You would be our first catch of the night"
Duncan eyed the man, he was telling the truth, as he apparently was to afraid to do otherwise.
"Who is the leader of these slavers then?"
"His name is Lucius"
"Very well then, we'll go and see this Lucius, get on your feet!"
The man cried out "No! Not to Lucius!" and before Duncan could react, the man had drove a stiletto into his own heart.

I definitely must pay this Lucius a visit, Duncan thought. As he checked the men for loot. Apart from some spare gold. The only thing he found of use were a few throwing knives, and a map of the area.

When he arrived at Taren, he was told that the slaves had rebelled, and that Lucius was dead. The leader of the rebellion could now be found at the local inn, celebrating the victory. His name was Stanislav

Duncan entered the inn, hoping for a conversation with this Stanislav...

[cipher]

Stanislav and Salem sat down at the bar and engaged in conversation.
"I have yet to learn your name friend and why are you here? I know you are not a slave; I sence a strange presence about you that I cannot place."

"My name is Salem Val'dor, and I came to heither to to this fighting pit to aid a rumored revolt. But atlas I was hardly a help; I had not expected such a man as yourself leading the charge,"

"Thankyou Salem, but if the offer is still on the table I might still need your assistance."

"In what way, an advenure perhaps my guard duty to the elven city of Marith is slow and uneventful. I long to streach my legs in the wild."

"Interesting that you should ask. I have come across a bit of knowledge that was passed down to me from a dieing gladiator. He spoke of a treasure of sorts buried far within the caves of Bal'nur. Thats all he said to me before passing on. He said nothing of what the treasure is or the location of the Bal'nur caves."

Salem pondered what he had just heard and somehow it sounded vaguly fimilar, suddenly the wisdom reach him.

"Then you have been blessed, I have heard tell of ancient treasure hidden within a cave. I heard it as a child, perhaps you would call it a fairytale, but I'm sure of what you speak is indeed this fairtale of old."

"Has anyone tried to find the treasure,"inquired Stanislav with a glimmer in his eye.

"I ddon't recall any expeditions but no one has been able to put a name to the caves, untill now that is."

"This is great......"

Salem quickly jerked his hand upwards motioning to Stanislav to stop talking.

"We are being watched," Salem whispered.

[cipher]

(written by Sytze)

Small rays of sun shone through the dense roof of foliage covering Sytze’s head. He had quickened pace a while ago and to his own surprise he was now running. A smile crossed his face; this was a much better day!
When he woke up this morning, the sun was shining brightly and the forest was breathing life, youth and beauty. He was supposed to go hunting in the morning, gathering new food, but he felt too happy to spend the time looking for possible meals. Instead he settled for the next best thing, simple bread.
Two days ago he met a party of adventurers who were travelling in search of some orcs who plagued this part of the forest. He had teamed up with them and with combined effort, they quickly found the orcs and disposed of them. For gratitude he received some of their food, since they needed to head back home anyway. It turned out the adventurers came from Taren and were now in a hurry to travel back to the town. Apparently rumours of a revolt had reached their ears and they did not want panic to break out in their village.
Upon the group’s departure, Sytze thought about following them, but decided not to do so. He did not want to get involved in some revolt when there were better things to do. Orcs still roamed the land and he often wondered why humans argued so much amongst themselves when there was a more dangerous enemy that needed taken care of.

But that was two days ago. Since yesterday his mood improved and curiosity eventually took over. It had been several weeks since he visited a city, or a village for that matter, and he could need a good warm bed, a steady roof above his head and some new supplies.
His pace slowed again. Walking and running for more than six hours took its toll and his legs started to feel heavy. Sytze looked around in search of a good resting spot when his eyes fell on a huge tree. Long grass covered the roots which were firmly attached in the ground. The tree looked old; its trunk was gnarled, but firm and strong. Sytze took his weapons off his back and laid them by his side. He sighed; it was still a long walk to Taren.
When he looked up, he noticed how impressive this tree really was. Its branches reached farther than his eyes could see and they seemed to push the other trees back, stopping it from fully growing. As he was lying there, staring at the sky and following the clouds drift over, his eyes slowly closed and he drifted off.

Twigs and leafs snapped and in a rush Sytze woke up! Within seconds his katana and dagger were firmly attached on his back and an arrow was resting on his bow. He scouted the area. He had been attacked and ambushed a bit too often for his liking in this forest. His eyes followed the noise and he sneaked towards it, moving slow. Carefully as to not make any noise himself. Nearing the sounds of footsteps touching the earth, a large berry holding bush was obstructing his sight. Sytze readied his bow and used his body to slowly push the bush aside.
Suddenly a wolf jumped out the bushes at threw itself at Sytze! In the confusion he dropped his bow. As a ranger, he had not expected such a surprise attack from a wolf and waited for what would happen next. He expected his flesh to be ripped off any minute, but instead heard a female voice…

[werebeargoddess]

Kitty's eyebrow rose as she looked down upon the ranger.
<Shall I kill him?> Phraen asked, standing right above the hapless ranher.
<No.>
"Well well well. What do we have here? Wheat is a lone ranger doing alone, whith no-one to guard his back?" Kitty's voice was calm, but inside she was screaming.
"N-Nothing," answered the ranger. "I wasn't doing anything at all. Just resting."
Kitty laughed. "Resting where my wolf can find you? You are a ranger, are you not?" The ranger nodded. "Then you should have known better than to sleep unprotected out here. Now, what is your name?"
"I-I'm Sytze," responded the ranger, stammering. Kitty nodded to herself. The name was fitting. She didn't know if it was because this man was a ranger, or if it was because of her longing for a companion other than Phraen, but she found herself liking this man.
"Well, Sytze, my name is Kitty Johannson, and this is my animal companion, Phraen. We are heading to Taren. Would you care to join us?"
Sytze nodded. "Sure. I don't really have anything else to do."
Kitty smiled, and held out her hand. Sytze took it, and she helped him up.
"Shall we?" Kitty asked. Sytze nodded, and the three headed for Taren...

[cipher]

(written by ungor)


How much further could this damn village be? Rethne had thought on more than one occasion and was, now, staring down at the crumpled map handed to her by dwarven slave master Cagdim, of the town of Therbrom. Four days travel by foot, at the most, Cagdim had said and that was the last time she would give him even an ounce of trust, as she had been walking for a good eight days.
Rethne was to safely deliver a dozen xvarts, two human slaves and an orc warrior to Lucius of Taren village and, upon him giving a letter of authorization to her, return to Cagdim with the letter for payment. Cagdim had also wanted, repeating several times, Rethne to steal an exotic blue parrot from Lucius’ estate, and had promised a healthy bonus if she did so. Normally, Rethne would not bother with work as menial as transporting slaves, however, she was in need of coin and Cagdim had promised to pay well for delivering to him the parrot.
The chained prisoners were being kept in line by the whips and sticks of five human warriors, who were little more than idiotic logs of meat that Rethne had to, annoyingly, babysit. Constantly repositioning them to be able to keep order with the prisoners and stopping the occasional one from straying off, into the depths of the wilderness.She had opted not to follow the pathways, as she had encountered many adventurers and do gooders, in the past, who just weren’t on the ethical level to let slave traders walk by.
Rethne now glanced down at the map once more and looked up, somewhat lost; she was no forest expert and was having a tough time constructing a clear path, or even a crude one, through all the trees and leaves. Trees and cursed leaves! She almost exclaimed. But, instead she kept cool and was about to renegotiate her way back when a small glimmer flickered, just into visibility of the corner of her eye.
She turned and, making her way past a few trees and large bushes, spotted, clearly this time, a part of a large lake. Had Cagdim mentioned anything about a lake near Taren? Yes, she thought, he had muttered once, or maybe twice, with no certainty something about a big blue lake near Taren.
Rethne motioned for the others to follow her and, carefully, made her way to the lake. The water looked clean and unclouded, the pallid blue matching, perfectly, with the intense colours of the fish.
Looking across the lake, there appeared to be a few people sitting down for a meal and, more importantly, to the east of the lake there was a clear dirt trail, with shoe prints laid across it, likely used by the villagers to get to the lake.
Rethne followed the trail, meeting nobody on the way, and soon the village came into view and she led the slaves and guards a short distance away from it, behind a scattering of rocks and trees.
“Ok, Berty, you and the others are to wait here and guard the prisoners; do not leave and keep your loud mouths shut, got that, so far?”, Rethne told the biggest warrior, Berty.
“Yeah and then what?”, he replied.
“And then, I will visit this Lucius and see if theres a way we can get these dogs to him, without the public notice, you know how some people can be with slaves. I’ll be back shortly”, Rethne said, hoping that no rangers or woodsmen would discover them.

Rethne walked into the village and soon spotted the fighting arena, hoping that Lucius’ house would be nearby, she approched the cluster of houses nearest the arena. Going around the back of the cluster of houses and to the side of the arena, Rethne could make out something that had been an estate. It was larger than the other houses but in far worse condition; shattered windows, busted doors, missing tiles, dented walls and the front lawn strewn with unearthed plants.
Rethne slid through the broken door and into the hall, where she could see a big living room, or what had been a living room; upturned tables, split cabinets, leg less chairs and paper spread across the floor. Judging by the blue mess of feathers, blood and bone on the floor, saving the parrot was out of the question. She proceeded straight into the room where she could see that it was still being looted by thugs, likely they were henchmen of Lucius.
“Hey, hey!”, one of them turned and shouted at her.
“Lucius is dead and now we get the spoils, so clear off or your gonna get-”

He stopped dead in his sentence, gurgling with a knife in his throat and blood spurting out over the pearl white marble floor, he collapsed to his knees and let out on elast gurgle, before falling flat on his face and twitching involuntarily.

“Brother!”one of the other thugs screamed and charged towards Rethne with a broad sword firmly in his grip. Rethne swiftly raised her rapier, in her left hand, and parried the attack with a strong back hand, the metallic clash of blades ringing through out the room. As the second blow came crashing down, Rethne unsheathed her long dagger by her right side and, with a sideways spin, dodged his sword and plunged her dagger deep into the man’s stomach. As the man stumbled to his knees, vomit frothing in his mouth, Rethne slashed her rapier across the man’s already wounded stomach, spilling organs, blood and gristle onto the floor. Desperately, with his last ounces of strength, the man grabbed hold of his glistening intestenes and tried to reel them back into his abdomen.
Rethne looked up and could see there was another man, standing in the corner of the room, and she could also see the yellow puddle by his feet,urinating himself, hysterically, the man made a hopeless attempt for the door. He had barely moved five feet when Rethne ended his life with a sickening thud from a throwing knife.
Collecting her knives and what loot she could find, Rethne stopped by the first man killed and could see that there was a piece of paper in his clenched fist. The paper was very old and crinkled and it looked like it had belonged as part of a parchment or letter. She could see a part of a name on top of the paper: Bal’n-, though what it might be she had no clue but she put it in her pocket, for “safe keeping”.

Outside now, Rethne had decided to ditch the slaves and headed towards one of the local bars, she ordered a glass of very sour wine and sat down. Considering her bad luck and the untimely death of Lucius, Rethne thought that maybe there could be somebody in this backwater town with more than two coins to rub together. Glancing around the bar she could see three figures stand out amongst the others, two were sitting down and one was standing up and appeared to be talking. They most definitely looked like adventurers, and adventurers usually have a plan involving gold, getting up, Rethne silently moved into a better position listening of them

[Golden Lion 86]

"Well met, then, friend!" Stanislav said. "Duncan, was it?"
"Yes." Duncan replied. "Duncan E'Alith. I just heard that there was a slave revolt, and I am sorry to have missed it. It must have been an interesting ordeal!"
"It was..." Stanislav hesitated. "Very bloody. Too bloody. I thought freedom would be worth every drop spilt, but now... now that I look at the bodies of the mercenaries, I can't help but think whether we are any different... butchering others for our own reasons. We did not need to kill them to survive, but there was so little time! I don't know. I have seen much blood in the arena, and spilt more than my fair share, but this was... very traumatic. Freedom is a novelty for many of us. I, for one, do not remember my early years before I was captures."
"That is rather sad," Salem said. "But remember, these mercenaries were hired to keep you at bay. They knew you were slaves, and they could have helped, had they wanted to. In any war for freedom, there is one rule: 'if they don't help you, they oppose you'. These mercenaries deserved what they got."
"I suppose." Stanislav said. "I will have to think on it. Well, this treasure you speak of is very appealing, but I must first ensure that my brethren are taken care of, if you will excuse me."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He got up and walked over to the bar, where the barkeep, a man by the name of Jules, stood, conversing with an elder Gladiator.
"Senex, my mentor!" Stanislav said with a smile. "Is it as you foresaw? Yes, it seems that way: 'When tyranny falls, hell can become paradise', right, Jules?"
"Definitely, Leonis, my boy." Jules said. "Senex and I will see to that."
"Please, Jules," Stanislav said. "Glorious as that name might have been, I wash myself of it. It is no longer mine. I am simply 'Stanislav', from this day."
"Allright, 'Stanislav'!" Jules said.
"Senex, will you see to it that our brethren are provided for?" Stanislav asked.
"Yes, my child." Senex answered. "We can amass what funds we need from Lucius' estate, and then we can see what this town has to offer old Gladiators."
"And you, Jules," Stanislav turned to the barkeep. "I wish to thank you for your help. Those mercenaries would have been a real nuisance without your 'Julean Brew'! I hope you won't have to use it again!"
"I'll try, but I can't make any promises!" Jules answered with a smile.
"Senex," Stanislav said. "I have been approached by a gentleman with an offer to go find treasure. If this treasure is indeed as large as he says it is, then my share will be more than enough to help establish true order in this region."
"I see," Senex replied. "Well, you be careful, and do retain at least some of the gold for yourself!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Stanislav walked back to Salem, who was filling Duncan in on the details of the mission. As Duncan was obviously an able warrior, Salem saw fit to include him in his plans as well. Just before he joined them, Stanislav noticed a small female figure sitting at the bar eyeing Duncan, and took note of that. He approached Salem and said:
"Salem, did you notice the little girl at the bar? She has been eavesdropping on our conversaton, I believe."
"That is no girl, Stanislav." Salem replied. "She appears to be a halfling, but I have never seen one as tall as she is, nor quite so thin. She strikes me as more than a little odd. As a halfling, I would expect her to be celebrating with the Gladiators rather that sitting at the bar spying on people."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rethne noticed the three men looking at her and turned back to her drink. It was a small ale, as she needed refreshment from her voyage, but not so much as to impair her senses. She fiddled nervously with her dagger's handle. She was a skilled assassin, but no match for three men, especially one as giant as the barbarian-looking fellow. Stanislav walked up to her and laid his enormous paw on her shoulder.
"Excuse me, mylady," he said. "I could not help but notice that you were listening to our conversation, and was wondering why?"
She clutched at her blade and with three even breaths, she turned around and stuck the blade squarely into Stanislav's shoulder. Stanislav recoiled with a grunt, pulling the blade out of Rethne's hand with his body. She reached for her rapier, but felt Duncan's blade against her heart. She decided to try and negotiate. Stanislav, in the meantime, pulled the blade out of his flesh and examined it. He was quite used to pain, but the wound still hurt and bled. He walked up to the lady and angrily tossed the dagger to her feet. With a slap, he knocked her to the floor and prepared to break her bones one by one until she explained herself. Duncan restrained him, and after a few seconds of heavy breathing, he regained his composure. He extended his hand to help the stunned lady up and looked her in the eyes.
"My apologies, mylady," He said. "I have simply never been greeted quite so... cordially, and was a little confused."
"Damned idiot!" she cried. "Now my clothing is stained with your filthy slave's blood! I'd make myself a new shirt out if your hide, but it seems you have me outmatched and outnumbered."
"Filthy slave?" Stanislav began to enrage again. "You sound like you might have been in league with our captor. Perhaps you were here to quell our insurrection? Answer me!"
"Your petty slave affairs are no concern of mine, boy!" she replied. "However, this treasure of yours is of interest to me..."
"So you were eavesdropping!" Duncan said. "Well, you can forget about the expedition, evil harpy!"
"Wait a minute," Salem said. "What is it you do, young miss?"
"Well, if you must know," she said. "I kill. However, I can also sneak, steal, and pick the odd lock or two. I think I have many skills the three of you lack, and might be of help. However, the pay must be adequate!"
"Equal shares," Salem said. "Take it or leave it. I doubt Lucius can offer you enough to dissuade you." he pointed to the fallen slaver.
"Hmm," she said. "Agreed! But tell this dog to keep his paws off of me. I have a certain appearance to maintain, you know."
"Lion, not dog!" Stanislav said. "I will keep an eye on you! I don't trust you farther than I can throw you, and I think I just made the punishment for betrayal rather clear."
"Well, then," Rethne said. "Consider me hired! Old man!" she turned to Senex.
"Yes?" he responded.
"Lucius' estate is yours for the taking. No looters will dare approach after the mess I left there!" Rethne said with a chuckle.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The group made way to the back of the tavern, where Stanislav said Lucius' armory was located. He remained two steps... two Stanislav-steps, behind Rethne. When they arrived, Stanislav removed his damaged armor and put on a nice suit made of metal plates connected by leather straps. The suit was not a perfect fit, but he loosened the straps and was well enough protected to avoid serious injury. Then he proceeded to pick out the finest pair of gladii from the shelves. He found a pair with silver blades, and strapped them to his girdle. He picked up another set as a backup. Now came the time to pick up a trident. He found one also made of silver, and put it on his back. He looked at his friends, who stood there, and said:
"Help yourselves to anything you want. This is yours as well as mine."
While the party picked up spare and replacement weapons, a young lady walked into the tavern, followed by a man and a wolf. She walked up to the barkeep and ordered a drink. She noticed some noise coming from the back of the tavern and went to investigate, her wolf at her side. She walked up to the newly equipped party and looked at each member with curiosity. She then noticed Stanislav's injured shoulder through a gap in his plates and proceeded to heal it. After a few moments, the wound was gone, and Stanislav looked at the lady with astonishment.
"It appears there is no end to wonders this day!" he said. "First, a tiny woman who appears to be fully grown, and now a lady who can heal? Hello, I am Stanislav. May I ask your name, mylady?"
"Kitty Johannson." she answered. "This is Phraen," she pointed to the wolf. "and the lad at the bar is Sytze."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, mylady!" Stanislav said, clumsily extending his hand. Kitty shook it and laughed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"So, I hear there was a slave revolt here?" Kitty said to Duncan when the party sat at the bar. "That sounds rather... bloody."
"Indeed!" Stanislav interjected. He proceeded to tell her about the events that took place from the revolt to the moment they met.
"I see..." Kitty said as she looked at Rethne with apprehension. When her gaze met the druid's, Rethne smiled evilly at her and motioned her to turn her head elsewhere.
"Well," Salem said. "Let's get moving. We don't want anyone else coming in here and hacking away at our friend, here. There is much ground to be covered, and the faster we get there, the fewer chances we have of encountering rival bands."
"Rival bands?" Duncan asked.
"Certainly!" Salem replied. "Did you think we were the only ones seeking this legendarily vast treasure? Of course not!"
"This will make things difficult." Stanislav said. "But perhaps with careful negotiation," he looked at Rethne. "bloodshed can be avoided."
"Perhaps." Salem concluded the discussion. "Well, farewell, Jules, was it?"
"Yup." answered the barkeep.
"Goodbye, Senex!" Stanislav said.
"Farewell, my child!" Senex replied as the party left the tavern. "Ilmater keep you!"

[Yeltsu]

“Show me your sword”

Stanislav stopped sharpening his new gladii and looked up, “Huh?”
“Let me see your sword”. Duncan replied,
“Sure, which one?” Stanislav asked.
“The best” Duncan said
He looked at the blade given to him, it was a heavy sword, but quite short. He stood up and tested the blade, swinging it first, testing its flexibility and weight.
“This is a good sword. Now show me how you use it!”
“You wanna train? Sure, just give me my sword back”
Duncan watched Stanislav as he prepared himself.
“So much equipment, I hope he don’t rely to much on it”
While they circled each others, the rest of the group came to watch.

Stanislav charged Duncan with both gladii raised in attack position, seeing his opening as Stanislav attacked, he quickly parried the blow, twirled around, and stopped his katana an inch clear of Stanislav’s ribs,
“Defense, boy!” he yelled as he rolled away from an elbow blow.
Stanislav now approached Duncan more carefully. He made a thrust against Duncan’s chest, but Duncan parried downwards, and at the same time stuck two outstretched fingers up under Stanislav’s cheekbones. The giant screamed of the sudden pain
“Always expect the unexpected!” Duncan cried out as he jumped back.
Stanislav realized he had to start fighting differently to keep up with Duncan. He ran at him, and started attacking from two sides at the same time. He could see Duncan had to work hard in order to parry all the attacks. Suddenly he kicked away Duncan’s feet and at the same time, gripped his arm in mid-air and flung him several feet away with his great strength.
“You should never underestimate your enemy” he said as he walked towards Duncan.
“Nice one Stan” Duncan smiled as he got to his feet. “Didn’t see that one coming”
Now it was Duncan’s turn to charge. He opened with a series of quick slashes from side to side.
Surprised by the speed of the attacks, Stanislav had difficulties parrying them all.
Suddenly Duncan broke from his rhythmic attacks and in seemingly no time his katana was placed by the young gladiator’s neck, rasping the pre-mature neck hairs.
“Got you” he smiled
Stanislav motioned for him too look down. There he could see a gladii pressing against his crutch. They both laughed and backed away

“All right you two, knock it off” Salem called, “Dinner is ready, you can practice later”
As they sat down to eat, Stanislav asked Duncan:
“I noticed you didn’t pick up anything from the armory at all, I saw at least half a dozen katanas on the wall, why didn’t you look at them?”
Duncan pulled the sword sheath up on his lap.
“This is Tsunetomo. It was given to me by my mentor Yamamoto when I left the dwarves in Goldhall. It was Yamamoto’s old blade, but he said he wouldn’t be needing it anymore.”
Duncan pulled the blade halfway out of the sheath and continued…
“He told me it was a legendary blade forged in his homeland of Kara-Tur. It apparently has some magical properties, not yet revealed”
Duncan put the blade back in its sheath.
“Then you had good reason to stay away from the other swords friend!” Stanislav exclaimed as he want to get more to eat.

----------------------------------------

Duncan eyed his new companions as they ate.
Stanislav sat laughing with Salem from something the sorcerer said. Fine companions both of them. Although the kid still had a lot to learn about fighting.
Sytze sat with Kitty and Phraen, talking friendly. He still had not seen much of either one, but he could tell that Sytze was an experienced marksman. It was the look in his eyes that revealed it.
“I sure would not like to be on the wrong end of a field from that guy” he thought to himself.
All of them sat in pairs, all except him…… and Rethne.

Rethne, He liked her, he did not know if it was the aura of mystery that surrounded her, or her courage that perplexed him. Either way, she was a fascinating character.
He gave her a nod when she noticed his look; she replied by making a rude gesture with her middle finger, before returning to her meal.

“A fascinating character indeed” Duncan thought, and continued to eat…

----------------------------------------

It was decided that Salem, Sytze and Kitty should keep watch that night.
Trusting his companions and his own light sleeping. Duncan quickly dozed away, Tsunetomo resting safely at his side…

[cipher]

Salem took the time to get to know the two newest members of their group while the others were sleeping. He talked openly of his past while joking about his childhood embarrasments. He found himself talking more than he regularly would with people he had only just met; he felt at ease with Kitty and Sytze and knew he would be able to trust them.

Suddenly his acute elven sence of hearing picked up a sound of a breaking twig and with the use of his infravision he could see an approching wolf.

"We have a visitor and I believe it must be Phraen, othewise you might want to loosen you bow Sytze."

"Ahh I'm one step ahead of you Salem,"Sytze already had an arrow fitted into his bow.

"No need, it is Phraen of which you speak. He told me he was done hunting and that he was returning,"said Kitty with a long yawn.

"Well perhaps you should retire for the night then. Sytze and I with the help of Phraen will be able to finish the watch,"replied Salem followed by a nod of approval from Sytze.

"Thankyou both,"after hugging them goodnight, she curled up and not soon after was sound asleep.

Later that night Salem was approched by Sytze and asked a strange question.

"From what you have told us you have been on many adventures and have jurneyed afar; perhaps you may have heared about a childhood friend of mine that goes by the name Ahrand."

"Ahrand...hmm...no I'm sorry my friend I don't reconize that name,"

* * * * *

Sytze and Salem woke the rest of the party at day break. After breakfast was cooked and everyone was full, they descused how they were going to proceed.

"So we are to find these caves where awaits a treasure fit for kings?"asked Duncan

From what Salem has told me but we still only have a name, Bal'nur, and no location,"said Stanislav.

"I thought of this last night, we might visit the elven city of Marith, where we could get a map of some sort to lead us to the Bal'nur caves since we have now learn there name."

They all agreed that this was their best course of action. Rethne had been quiet thoughout the conversation because she knew now that she held a piece of paper that told of these caves. Rethne remembered taking it off of one of the dead bandits at Lucius's mansion, she said nothing of it because she wanted to have a look at it first.

The party had been only walking for a short while when they heard commotion up ahead.

"Hurry up with my breakfast you slave, and where has that annoying female ran off to?!"

[ungor451]

The thin mist that the morning had brought with it was thickening and the bird’s singing was becoming ever more incessant but, doubtlessly, everyone had heard the noise ahead. Salem’s sharp elven eyes could make out, much clearer than the others, many humanoid figures of different sizes and lots of scampering about.

“ I said hurry up, slave! ” Berty administrated a hard kick to the backside of a xvart slave that he had, unwisely, unshackled to fetch him some food. When Rethne had left, Berty had waited around another half an hour with the others, before deciding that he had had enough and wandering into the wilderness. They had, later, set up camp, keeping guard on the slaves, though unforunetely for the slavers the orc and two humans, who were shackled separately from the xvarts, had escaped during the night when the look out fell asleep. The following morning they had headed to the pathway, ignoring the suspicious glares of the woodsmen on the way.
Approaching, from the opposite side of the party and behind Berty’s group, were six people; what looked like two rangers and four woodsmen, it would appear that word of chained slaves had come to the attantion of the woodland protectors. It looked like things were going to get bad before good.
Salem signalled for the others to follow him and he, hurriedly, approached before any fighting broke out. Rethne kept to back of the party and had chosen to keep well out of this disruption, as she had no desire for the others to know she was a part of a slave link, for her ties to the party were weak enough as it stands.

“ Look here then, the woodsmen were indeed correct, slavers right under our eyes ”, one of the rangers told the other.
“ Eh? What do you prissy little nature boys want? ”, Berty said, looking up from the xvart he had just kicked.
“ What we want is slaver scum, like you, to stop tromping through our land selling off slaves; it has ended, there shall be no more and I demand you release them ”, the other ranger stepped forward, bellowing. He was a half-elf, and a big one at that, and looked like a fair but stern man. Obviously, his views on slavery were very one-way. He just wasn’t having it.
“ You don’t talk to me like tha— ”
“ Just a moment here, my name is Salem, now what is this commotion about, exactly? ”, Salem arrived and interupted Berty before he could finish.
“ Problem is I don’t want these, these filthy slavers coming through the forest and I will not leave untill they release those they have imprisoned. No matter how much I dislike xvarts, it’s the only sporting thing to do
”, the ranger explained to Salem.
“ I agree, they should be released and left to their own survival ”, the druid, Kitty spoke. With this comment, Phraen looked up at her, a little befuddled, but eager to fight.
The others, Rethne excluded, who was still remaining hidden from this incident, concurred with Kitty and they told Berty to release the slave and, of course, argument pursued, for a little while.
Berty could see that, on both sides of him, there were at least five people totalling ten, though there could be more and he and his warriors came to a total of five. Certainly, the odds didn’t look good, maybe under different circumstances he would have submitted but not now, he had too much foolish pride and attitude to give up in front of the other lads. Looking ahead Berty could see one advantage that he did have; a dozen hungry xvart slaves, that looked piqued by the hassle that had just arisen. And, in the deep, web filled, depths of his head he concucted a plan that might just get him out of this mess.
“ Er, yeah you win, I’ll release the slaves- hey guys come and help me out ”, Berty said approaching the shackled xvarts.
“ Thats a good lad, come to your senses, I see, we’ll need to take them elsewhere, hmm maybe— ”
“ Wait, what are you doing!? ”, the ranger was interupted by Salem, as Berty and the slavers picked up the xvarts by their chains and, in the next instant, charged towards the woodsmen and rangers, even as the xvarts tried to bury theit teeth into the chainmailed arms of the slavers.

There was huge clatter and a mess of bodies as the slavers and slaves collided with the woodsmen; the xvarts had been flung about three feet forward, into the woodsmen and were biting and clawing at them, in a frenzy for food. Although the slavers had fallen down they were behind the xvarts and now, as they got up and turned around, they were greeted by the swords of Stanislav, Kitty and Duncan and the teeth of Phraen. Sytze fired off a long headed arrow and it swooshed past Stanislav’s right and penetrated the sword arm of one of the slavers. Sytze then moved his attention upon the swarmed woodsmen, readying himself for a clear shot on a xvart. Salem unleashed a small, glowing pink orb upon the same slaver, lighting his face up a fierce red and sending a searing hot pain tingling on the surface of his skin, Salem then readied himself once more and focused on another spell. Rethne had dabbed the tip of her rapier into a vial of safely stored poisonous fluid, with the full intent of using it upon Berty.
Kitty swung her scimitar downward, upon the warrior who had been injured by Salem and Sytze, tearing his throat open and she finished him off with a clean knock to the head from her quaterstaff. Stanislav deflected a sword stroke from a slaver and replied with a swing of his own; plunging his gladii down into the slaver’s shoulder and carrying on with a swift stab through the throat, with his other gladii. Salem cast a collection of bright swirling stars upon the mess of xvarts, sending them into a state of confusement; some tried to wander away, others slumped onto the floor and some started fighting manically, afterwards, Salem swapped over to his sling. Phraen tore at the torso of another slaver, the man grunted, backed off and
blocked the next attack and, turning around, was confronted by Duncan’s katana, slicing into his neck and spraying the air with vivid streaks of red.
Berty himself was a fighter of no small skill and fought with a brutal falchion and a battering shield. He had, just barely, doged the twirling katana of Duncan and replied with a blow of his own, which Duncan parried in a flash and quickly moved to miss the big battering shield aimed for his face. Stanislav moved over, to help the woodmen fight the xvarts and Phraen and Kitty were fighting another slaver.
As Duncan avoided another sword swing from Berty he moved, rapidly, to his left, and prepared to send a driving blow into Berty. However, all in a sudden, Berty lowered his shield and falchion and his face turned ashen, he looked to his left, where he could see what looked like a halfling standing, quite smuggly, with a blood tipped rapier.

“ Reth...Rethn... ”, Berty looked astounded as his last words trailed off and he toppled over, stone dead. Duncan, being the only other one to hear this looked quite confused but decided to keep quiet for the moment.

And, when the last slaver was cut down everyone concentrated on attacking the xvarts and, soon, all the little blighters were dead.

The two rangers had faired well but, unfortunetely, a couple of the woodsmen had been severly injured. They thanked the party for their help and told them that they had duties to attend to, Salem asked the rangers, before they took leave, if they had heard of the caves of Bal’nur. The rangers had no clue what caves they were talking about but advised them to keep to the paths. With that, the group collected what small gold the slavers and, with Salem leading the way, carried on to the elven city of Marith.
Last night, Rethne had had a close look at the piece of parchment she had got a hold of and seen that it was written in elven. Although she knew a small splattering of the language, it was far from enough to decipher what ever message the parchment might be saying. She concluded that she may have to show it to Salem, when they got to Marith.

[Sytze]

As the party walked onwards to Marith, the weather shifted. Dark clouds formed in the sky and within seconds raindrops made their way towards the ground. Hearing the irritated sounds of his fellow comrades, Salem proposed to take a brake near a bunch of large trees to their left; they made excellent cover for the entire party.

While the party made itself comfortable, Sytze stood at the edge of the leaves coverage, watching the raindrops slide from the green foliage and continuing their journey by plunging in the earth. He sighed, even though a break wasn’t such a bad idea, he wanted to reach Marith as soon as possible. He had never set food in the Elven town and was anxious to see how it looked like. The last two days he had played with the thought of asking Salem how it looked like, but decided that it would be more fun to be surprised. Besides, while they were travelling, he had something to think about. “Marith”, he thought, I wonder what it stands for?


Behind him, Duncan was preparing their meal, while Stanislav, Salem and Rethne were busy counting the gold they gathered from the dead slavers. Stanislav decided he would be guardian of the gold and would give everyone an equal share of the spoils when the time would arrive. As Sytze saw Stanislav, he wondered what was going on inside the young Gladiator's head. Stanislav was obvious a strong warrior, but, upon first sight, he wasn’t the brightest one of the party. Yet he acted as if he was the leader of the party and that troubled Sytze. Stanislav was only sixteen years old, had very little experience with life outside the fighting pit, did not know the surroundings here and was not the most intelligent sort. Salem, on the other hand, had the abilities to be the possible leader, if the party would even have a leader. Salem seemed an intelligent guy, he knew this land well and was, more importantly, the oldest of the party. Even though he was in elven terms still young. When it came down to battle powers, however, Stanislav was the strongest of the two in hand to hand combat. "No matter," Sytze thought. So far I’m happy with the way things are handled, so I should not complain. Stanislav is still young and I guess he mostly acts out of enthusiasm. Besides, Duncan and Salem seem to have a fairly good influence on him.


Sytze turned around again when he heard a soft rumble in the distance. Looking at the dark sky, his thoughts shifted back to Marith’s appearance. He expected a mystical town; graced by Elven presence and architecture. A town with houses that were build in huge and beautiful old trees, connected by wooden footbridges, stretching farther than the eye could see. As he stood there, imagining what Marith would look like, he suddenly felt something hairy near him and he looked to his left. There he saw Phaere. While Sytze realised the wolf was standing beside him, his eyes widened and his glance showed anger and fear. Making distance between him and the wolf, Sytze’s voice lowered and in a desperate tone he hissed “get away from me!”
Phaere showed his teeth, made a growl and moved back to the rest of party. Sytze turned around to see if his companions noticed anything of his outburst, but everyone was doing the same as they did few seconds ago. Everyone, except Kitty, who got up and walked to Sytze. He looked at her and saw in her pose a mixture of both question and anger. Sytze opened his mouth to say something when Kitty stood next to him, but nothing came out.

“What is your problem?” Kitty asked angrily. Her voice was sharp, but low. Just low enough to keep the conversation private.
“Keep that pet of yours away from me, Kitty.” Sytze hissed back.
“What?!?” Kitty’s voice became louder and angrier.
“What did Phaere ever do to you?”
“Nothing! Until now, anyway. But unless you two want problems, I suggest you keep that wolf away from me!”

When he said that, Kitty got a look of sorrow on her face and immediately Sytze regretted his outburst. He lowered his face and stared to the ground, not sure what to say next…

After a short pause, Kitty sighed. “Why do you say all of this? When we first met you, you were trembling when Phaere jumped on you out of nowhere and you even started stuttering when talking to me. And now you react as if Phaere was an orc out to kill you!”
Silence fell for a moment, and it looked as if Kitty was rehearsing the last few days. When she spoke again, she was calmed down and her voice was back to normal.
“Looking back, I think it’s strange you reacted so scared when we met, or that you were even surprised by Phaere’s attack, since you are a Ranger. The last few days, I actually noticed you were evading Phaere when she came near you, but I simply thought you were doing it unconscious. Yet, noticing your reaction to Phaere now, the question still remains why you reacted the way you did.”

Sytze raised his head to meet eyes with Kitty, and for a moment he wondered what he should tell her.

“Let’s just say that I’ve had a bad experience with wolves.”
“What kind off bad experience are you talking about, Sytze?” Kitty asked.
“I just had a bad experience, alright!” Sytze snapped back.
When he said that, he ones again turned his eyes to the ground. Cursing at himself for reacting so harsh. Get a grip! he mumbled to himself.
“Listen Kitty. I… I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? I…just give me some time to adjust to this, alright?”
“Fine,” Kitty replied “but we mean you no harm, you should know that.”

Sytze’s mood lifted and he looked back at Kitty. The druid was standing there staring at Sytze with her blue eyes.

“I know and…” Sytze pause