The Dark Flames – Book 6 - New Beginnings (no spam)

[Yshania]

Wiping her damp hands on a limp apron, the woman picked up another two handfuls of tankards and swung around, rolling her eyes playfully at the patrons’ irritated hollering. Swinging her hips agilely around the cluttered tables, she aimed for the corner where a band of raucous regulars slammed their empties impatiently on the aged oak table before them, whilst yelling something she could barely make out over the general din. Not that she cared, there were only three subjects the men here ever hollered for after ale anyway, those being women, fighting, and more ale. The tavern was heaving, and smelled heavily of male sweat and the waft of perfume from the ladies of the night that nipped in and out of the doorways, soliciting the company of those too drunk to remember where home was, or those too bold after ale to care. Despite his oft, dour expression the landlord, Ungmar, was a tolerant and secretively kind sort, and his wife, Marianne, ran the kitchens. Her meaty broth filling the bellies with as much popularity as the heady ales he served at the bar.

The barmaid lifted the tankards high over the heads of the seated, whilst deftly avoiding a drunken slap that was intended for her rear and which had practically unbalanced the drunkard. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, glaring at the perpetrator

“Really, Bloodstalker” she reprimanded the wobbling man “you should try to curb those tendencies to try to live up to the hope your father had for you when naming you. And you!” she addressed the surly dwarf beside the drunk “as the stand-in chief of guard I would expect more of you than to encourage him!” The dwarf dropped his gaze and shifted in his seat as Bloodstalker dragged himself to his feet. Using the table to steady his swaying, he stumbled off towards the door just as a halfling entered, a grim countenance about him.

“Break it up lads!” she heard Ungmar bellow as he pushed his huge frame through the throng towards the brawlers. Fas and Bloodstalker were at it again, she saw.

“Have at you!” the diminutive halfling called as he aimed to poke his finger in Bloodstalker’s eye. Bloodstalker attempted to avoid the attack but only succeeded in stumbling over an invisible obstacle and hitting the floor heavily, just as an elf with a scar across his face entered the tavern

“Ow! Ow! Unfair!” yelped the elf, his hand over his good eye, hopping blindly from foot to foot.

As Yshania left the table to deliver the tankards, the bellowing laughter from Bloodtalker’s companions caused a smile to flit involuntarily across her features. She had worked here for some time now, and knew practically every face and family background. But she tolerated the occasional playfulness knowing full well that any malicious intention from a new face would have more than her own wrath to deal with. Speaking of new faces, she chanced a glance at the shadowed person sitting alone in the corner. It was difficult for Yshania to ascertain whether the being was male or female…human even…since it still wore the hood of it’s cloak, despite having come in from the cold three hours ago. She wondered whether he or she would take a sip from the glass that had stood untouched all night. She shook her feelings of unease away and planted the tankards on the table before her, pocketing the measly tip.

Tonight was different for the Travellers’ Rest. Plans were afoot for one of the largest parties Ogre Ford had seen. A travelling band of minstrels had arrived two nights before demanding stage for one of the most renowned bards in the whole of Faerun, and this very tavern had been chosen to host the ball! She knew that as soon as the last drunk was coaxed out into the night, the preparations would begin. She could barely contain her excitement! Of course Ungmar and Marianne were also looking forward to the boosted income and publicity this gathering would bring, regardless of having to pamper to the expected sky-high ego of the bard. She smiled at their fussing…and at some of the items his hand servants had secretly placed in his room in advance. For herself, the bar maid was almost star struck and could not wait to hear the tales of the wider lands, and of heroes of might and creatures of myth.

She moved through the rest of the evening, her excitement barely noticeable. Except that she appeared a little more tolerant and a little more playful, in respect of the good humoured jesting. Not that they bothered her normally, just sometimes she wished herself far away from this place, she dreamed of being more than a source of ale and entertainment to a bunch of beer swilling drunkards. Right now, however, she could not think of a place she would rather be! She smiled at Ungmar as she returned some empties to the bar, then laughed as he raised a questioning brow.

“Yshania?”

“What?”

“Ye been on the slops again, lass?” he grinned

“Now, Ungmar!” she retorted, pouting and feigning offence “since when have you seen this lass drinking flat ale?”

Ungmar laughed heartily in appreciation as he collected the tankards from the bar. Then, scowling, muttered “we should consider getting a wash hand in here! Oh! And a bouncer too!” before nodding the barmaid towards another group that was hollering for a top up.

[Gwalchmai]

Sweat stung the eyes of the young man who labored under the noonday sun. He pushed with his broad shoulder against the back of a wagon, as a lazy mule in front did as little of the work as possible. Finally the young man, wagon, and mule reached the crest of a hill and came to a stop. Gwally stepped up to the front and breathed in the pastoral scene before him. The road wound down into the small river valley that began at the base of a cascading series of waterfalls like shimmering ribbons in the tree-covered hair of the great mountains that surrounded him. At the base of the waterfalls, and at the end of the road, lay the small village of Ogre Falls.

“You’re not hot at all, are you, Betty?” he asked the mule, who hadn’t broken a lather, “Did you help at all?” With an exasperated sigh, Gwally went back to check the wagon and tighten the lashes. Gwally pulled at the neck of his white poet’s shirt and flapped the puffed sleeves so that some of the sweat would dry. A chill raced down his spine as his damp skin met a cool breeze coming from the valley below. Shivering, he slipped on his purple-dyed leather jerkin. With buckskin pants, soft floppy boots, and a cap with a single long feather in it, Young Gwally’s wardrobe clearly painted him to be a Bard by trade. The sweat on his brow clearly spoke of his status as lowly apprentice.

Gwally climbed aboard the wagon and was about to snap the reins to spur Betty onward, when he caught sight of three horses and their riders exiting Ogre Falls at a brisk pace. “Milil damn him!” he exclaimed, startling Betty. Gwally’s master, Artemis Lashtongue, The Golden Throated Bard of Calimport, was clearly leaving Ogre Falls much sooner than expected. “I begged him to let me just stay in Ogre Ford! But no! I ‘had’ to bring the wagon all the way up here! ‘The Ladies need their essentials!’ Arrgh!” Gwally began stomping around kicking innocent bushes out of frustration.

Gwally knew he should be used to the whims and vagaries of his master by now, but each little slight hurt all the same. Artemis Lashtongue was due to perform in the Traveler’s Rest in Ogre Ford the following evening. Arriving early, Artemis and his two lady friends (he called them his entourage, but Gwally only ever thought of them as Bimbo Number One and Bimbo Number Two) decided to partake of some rumored natural hot springs near Ogre Falls. Ogre Falls was only a few hours away by horse, but it had taken Gwally almost half a day to drag the wagon up there, since the stubborn mule had to be led on foot most of the way. Now, he had not only made the arduous trip in vain, but it looked as though there would be no chance for him to take a quick dip in the springs himself. A small fenberry bush gave up the ghost under his onslaught.

“Turn this wagon around and make haste, boy!” Artemis called, his golden cape swirling in the breeze as his horse trotted past, “We’ve a show on the Morrow, and I’ll not keep my adoring fans waiting!”

“What happened to the hot springs?” Gwally asked plaintively, but Artemis only growled something about impertinent apprentices and rode on. Bimbo #1 also rode past, her nose characteristically held high. But she kept close to the elder bard and made small whimpering sounds.

Bimbo #2 slowed for a moment and whispered urgently to Gwally, “We’ve heard that there are Ogres about!” She glanced nervously at the trees, her large bovine eyes darting. “Actual Ogres!” She shuddered. “I thought it was just a silly name for this place, but apparently Ogres have been threatening the region for months! We heard some of the most frightening tales in Ogre Falls. Supply wagons have been robbed and the woodcutter has even gone missing! Oh, I hope we can make it back to town!” Not wishing to spend another moment away from the protection of civilization, she spurred her horse onward.

Gwally sighed and tugged at Betty’s lead, and he too, began the journey back to Ogre Ford.

[Aqua-chan]

“I told you to take that left turn at-”

“For the love of everything holy and sacred, shut up!”

“No need to get grouchy! You were the one who completely ignored my directions.”

“I wonder why I can’t ignore you all the time?”

“Hey! I don’t have to talk to you, ya know. Maybe I’m not feeling very social, either,” the winged beast retorted.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You just don’t want to face the fact that you’se was wrong.”

“Let’s get one thing straight: I am never - I repeat, never - wrong, understand?”

“That’s your whole whang-dang problem, chicadiddy. You Talos folks can’t even think to admit when you’re wrong worth a dragon’s bellybutton. Your god is so egotistical and thinks he’s hot stuff because he can blow things up with a heapin’ huge fireball!”

“Talos is the god of storms, you reptilian nitwit,” the woman growled, “And FYI, dragons hatch from eggs, meaning they don’t even have bellybuttons.” Aqua-chan glared daggers
at each tree and rock they passed along the road. It became apparent that the next decision the priestess would have to make would not be about killing the talkative dust mephit or
not, but actually about which way to turn on the upcoming fork in the road.

“Hey, you summoned me, remember?”

“I’ve regretted living through every minute since,” she muttered absently as she pulled her tawny-and-white horse to a halt where the road divided into two lanes: one going forward and the other veering to the right. “Wonderful.”

“I say we keep going this way,” the little mephit said.

“Then right we go.” The cleric tugged the horse’s lead over to the right, guiding the elegant beast over.

“Why do you have to be so arrogant, chicadiddy?” he asked, “You know, maybe a change of deities would do you good. You could become a priestess of Lothander, maybe. They’se very nice and calm. Or maybe a god that would suit your persona better. I know! You could become a follower of Umberlee! They’se got a reason for calling her the Queen of Bitc-”

“Bite your tounge before I rip it out and use it to clean my weapons after battle, runt!” she turned around and held a finely crafted dagger that had been concealed under her robes to the creature’s neck to get her point across.

“Hey! You’se a cleric! You can’t use that kind of weapon. Shedding blood is against your vows!”

“So are you gonna go to the clergy and tattle on me?” she sneered.

“Why’se you not in the temple anyhows?”

She did not answer. Being a traveling woman herself, Aqua-chan decided to head out for the open road. Just one day, up and out of the Brother and Sisterhood without a second thought, she packed up her belongings (most of which were not hers), mounted her favored horse (which also did not belong to her), and “borrowed” some spell scrolls for her mage half.

One of those scrolls was Find Familiar.

“I still thinks you should become priestess of Umberlee. You have a lots in common! I met Umberlee once... She condemned me to an eternity of drowning in boiling water, but then you summoned me, and nows I spend eternity with you instead!”

“Oh joy,” she found herself murmuring. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of an unnatural stone structure. Part of the inscription was covered up, but she was able to make out the word Ogre. “A city? Yippee, I finally got something right.”

“So, we’se going to a city, huh, chicadiddy?”

“Stop callin’ me chiba-....Chiddady....Chidadaddy.... Whatever the hell it is you’re calling me!” Her blue eyes flashed agrily. Short, blonde hair framed her face and looked prominant against her midnight black attire.

“Sorry, Sexy!” the hell being stuck his paws up defensively, “I think you’se will be better when we get you to city. Get ya a little ale, party at night, sleep well...”

“...And kill you in hopes of relieving my hangover in the morning,” she finished. "Sounds good, let's go."

[Mysteria]

"Hmm...", the redhead stretched contentedly on the grass, then shifted her weight as a stone was digging uncomfortably into her shoulderblade. This was just so nice, she stretched again, then rolled over on her bell and buried her nose in the rich, soft grass. It smelled fresh and green, of thymian and wild camomille. She blinked up at the sky, it was getting afternoon and she should really get if she wanted to reach ... Actually, where was she headed?

The woman suddenly sat up and stared at her surrounding. "Where am I?" Confused, she stood up, trying to get her bearings. Somehow, she got the strange feeling that she shouldn't be there at all but then she suddenly laughed and began to ran up the hill. As she crested the rise, she had a clear view of Ogre Ford and she laughed again, her sudden merriness sending field mice scurrying for cover.

She chuckled at her own forgetfulness, she'd lost herself in her own daydreams ... again. Picking a stray grass halm out of her hair, she began chewing it thoughtfully. If she went back now, she'd only be chided again for running away. She looked down at the green dress she wore, suddenly thankful that the colour not only matched her own eyes but also that of the grass stains.

"Put that on, you'll look like a decent girl for once." She stemmed her arms into her side as she imitated the seamstress she was working for. She'd given her the dress yesterday and Ria had dutyfully put it on in the morning though she liked her old leggins so much better. "And don't be late tomorrow", she continued her mockery, grinning broadly. Well, that was just what she had been today, late. Not because she overslept, no, but the day had just been too beautiful to spend it shut away in a room with lanes of cloth and needles by the dozen.

Well, now it was well over noon and she was beginning to get ravenous. She should at least have packed something to eat ... and have changed back into her normal outfit, she thought as she tried to smooth over the wrinkles in the dress. Well, too late now, and she really hadn't wanted to get caught by Miss Narny, especially as today ... She suddenly gaped and caught her breath.

'And don't be late for the Lady Marigan's dress has got to be finished in time for the festivities. She'll come over to inspect it, so try to be decently dressed for once.', the seamstresses words rang in her head as Ria scampered down the hill as fast as she could, only barely managing not to fall. How could she have forgotten this! How could she!

[dragon wench]

After staring sullenly into her tankard for the better part of an hour Pagan Wiles cast her gaze about the Traveller's Rest and discretely observed the activities within. From the excited bustle, it was evident that something important would soon occur; her mouth curved into an expression of knowing anticipation, and she licked her lips....in a slow smile. Pagan had found this to be her favourite part of any job... the meticulous planning and silent observation... Above all, however, it was the secret knowledge and power accompanying most assignments that caused a thrill of dark delight to cascade along her spine.

In one gulp she downed her ale and attempted to attract the serving wench's attention, but found herself becoming increasingly disgruntled. The woman, happily attending to numerous patrons, was acting as though she had not even seen her.... Muttering something inaudible she stood up abruptly... though not without glancing down proudly at her new vest, breaches and cloak. They had cost a small fortune.. but owing to their astonishingly quality of granting their wearer the ability to blend into shadows...

"Oh bugger!" she exclaimed, suddenly blushing crimson at her own stupidity. In a single motion she shrugged off her cloak and loosed her vest, allowing her cream-coloured, cotton tunic to catch the light as well as the server's eye.

[Nippy]

An ale mug flew towards a wall and shattered on impact, still half full. Ale sprayed everywhere and coated an unlucky patron that cried bloody murder and swiftly stopped when he saw the thrower of the mug.

"Where" began the hulking figure, "in Talos' name, is MY DAMN HORSE!?" He roared out the last of the sentence and the small inn seemed to shake under the force of the vocal assault.

The huge man picked up a chair and hurled it against a wall, shattering the wood and leaving a dent in the wall.

"Someone had better tell me, and SOON!" He cried out again and picked up a nearby patron by the collar. "WHERE IS IT!?" He shouted again. "Someone had better tell me..." He began again in a low growl.

"The woman... she took it..." A small voice piped up in the background. "She went on her way to Ogre Falls..." The voice tailed off slightly as the man stared in its direction.

"Thank you. See where we can get by being nice?" He smiled and dropped the man and left some coin to cover the cost of his damages and kicked the door open, moving outside.

He took up a steady gait, jogging along the trail to Ogre Falls. The huge two-handed hammer on his back was strapped tightly beneath his pack, and his well-worn travel boots beat up a dusty trail on the pathway.

Big, tall and hulking was possibly the best way to describe Jargoth, and the same could be said about his one true love, his hammer. Bearded and bald-headed with a ferocious and short-lived temper, he apparently served Talos as one of his agents of destruction. A job that Jargoth would do without pay.

He grinned wickedly as he made quick progress to Ogre Falls, and imagined catching the damn thief that had stolen his horse...

[Scayde]

The cool morning breeze made it difficult to hold a grudge. Her mind drifted to the petite brunette woman from the last town who had implied she was no real seer. Humph, not everyone was born gifted. She did not need to be a magic user to read a person's heart. Telling a future was much more an estimation of character than seeing something in a crystal ball. A slight pout shadowed Scayde's rosy lips. "I am just as much a Gypsy as any one else of the Tangleisi tribe." She said, the sleeve of her blouse slipping carelessly from her shoulder as the horse trotted along.

"Of course you are my Dear" replied the handsome bard riding along beside her. Appreciatively he cast a glance at her ample bosom spilling from the low cut lace bodice. "Have you been practicing your new dance act? We have a major performance tomorrow night you know. We wouldn't want to deprive our patrons of your talents."

"But I thought I was going to do the fortunes this time. You promised me last night." Red curls fell over her white skin as her horse picked up the pace to come up close along side the bard. She detested not being taken seriously. "Artemis. You did say I was very accurate in my reading of the tower guard’s cards."

"Now, now, try not to whimper my Dear. It doesn't well suit a beautiful young dancer such as yourself. To be honest now, it does not take a great deal of ability to see that a soldier will most likely die a violent death involving blades. It would have been much more impressive if you had seen that in the cards for,...well, lets say a dairyman." Artemis smiled down at his unhappy companion.

"Artemis." Scayde fingered the emerald brooch pinned to her neckline accentuating the valley of cleavage. "I've told you. I am not a dancer. I am a seer"

The handsome bard smiled, and looked down into her grey green eyes. Condescendingly he answered,
"Of course you are Dear."

[Gwalchmai]

“By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.”

“Gwally!” Bimbo #2 rode the short distance back to Gwally atop the wagon and hissed at him, “Artie says to stop singing! You might attract the Ogres!

“That’s absurd. We didn’t see any ogres on the entire trek up to Ogre Falls, what makes you think we’ll see any now?”

“The villagers in Ogre Falls were adamant! Oh, Gwally, you didn’t see the looks on their faces. They were so scared! Merchants and supply wagons haven’t been able to make it up to the falls in over a month!”

“Yet we made it without a problem!” Gwally argued, then added under his breath, “Well, I nearly made it. . . . .”

“Well, clearly the ogres were loath to take on the powerful and formidable bard we have in our midst,” her breast heaving in admiration, she looked pointedly at Artemis Lashtongue riding a few dozen meters ahead, “but that doesn’t mean the ogres won’t amass a larger and more foolhardy force that might challenge us on our return trip! ‘Best to avoid any danger where the horses might get hurt’ is what Artie says.”

“But I made the trip alone while you three rode ahead! Why didn’t the ogres attack me?” Gwally complained.

“You were lucky, maybe. Artie thinks you probably weren’t worth the trouble.”

Gwally made a derisive noise and began to sing again,

“O ye’ll tak’ the high road and I’ll tak’ the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye.
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.”

“Gwally!”

“What?”

“Artie also says that you're sounding flat on the high notes.”

“I am? Damn.” It bothered him that he could never get the high notes just right. He tried to console himself by formulating another counter-argument to the purported ogre threat. Surely they couldn’t have been so lucky if the ogres were really so thick in these parts. Maybe the villagers were just trying to scare Artemis and the Bimbos away? Yes, maybe the villagers were hiding somethi. . . .

Gwally found himself quite distracted.

The sleeve on Bimbo #1’s blouse had slipped down again exposing her ample cleavage, clearly visible even at this distance. Gwally sighed at the sight. “Like great ripening onions rising from the soil,”

“So, you’ll stop singing?” Bimbo #2 asked, jerking Gwally from his contemplation of produce and cultivation.

“Oh, alright.” Gwally sighed, giving in. “Maybe you should get our Gypsy Seer to just divine the location of these supposed ogres and we’ll just go around?”

Bimbo #2 thought this would be a good idea and rode forward to confer with Bimbo #1.

[dragon wench]

Having obtained another tankard from the server, Pagan settled back into her seat once more, and glanced appreciatively about the tavern.

Thick, blackened stone walls, tremendous oaken beams, and narrow windows created a sense of disreputable coziness. Warding off the eve's chill, a fire burned brightly in the nearby hearth, its smoke mingling with patron's pipe tobacco.

Somewhere in a corner, a distinctly inebriated dwarf belched loudly and sang in raucous and offkey tones:

What do you do with a drunken sailor,
What do you do with a drunken sailor earl-eye in the mornin'?
Way-hey, and up she rises,
Way-hey, and up she rises,
Way-hey, and up she rises, earl-eye in the mornin'!
Shave his belly with a rusty razor,
Shave his belly with a rusty razor,
Shave his belly with a rusty razor earl-eye in the mornin'!

"Get me all the lovely, elven lasses that will," he said with an exagerated smirk, as he stumbled drunkenly across the floor. "Poncy bards be damned, " he puffed... "My dwarven prowess and constitution be designed for love...!"

Despite the seriousness of her assignment, Pagan grinned wickedly to herself... and she hoped that the dwarf would be present and in a similar state the following evening...

[Bloodstalker]

Bloodstalker was aware that he couldn't breathe. Not good. Opening his mouth to gasp for a deep breath, he quickly closed it again. That was no help. It wouldn't do to fill his lungs with water. The thought confused him for a moment...water? What in the hell was going on around here?

Rough hands pulled him upward by the hair of his head. Sputtering and gasping for breath, he opened his eyes and realized he must have just been face down in a horse trough. It didn't surprise him, even though the last thing he remembered was nimbly dodging the attack of that pint sized Fas....Ok, so, in reality, he had falling down purely by accident. Big deal, it was all in the interpretation. The fact remained, he was quite used to getting dunked by now, and thought he had a good idea who was behind it.

"Look at you, you're slobberin' drunk again.You are running out of time"

yep, it was Rylak. Hell, it was always Rilak. he was always worriying about something or other. He was a good freind, and a decent enough sort, but a tad too serious over such trivial matters as what he was concerned with now.

"They will kill you if you don't get their money by tonight"

Bloodstalker grinned at his friend. "I doubt it, just go tell them I need an extension"

"You've already had 5. You're really pressing your luck here you know"

Rolling his eyes in an exagerated way, BS sighed. "They won't kill me."

"Oh?", Rylak countered, "what makes you so special?"

"simple, I owe money, they can't get it if I'm dead." raising his hand to cut his friend off, BS continued. 'look, there will be a ton of people around for the show. A ton of people with a lot of money. Easy pickings"

"So, you want me to tell Jerek that you are gonna have the money you stole from him after you steal it from someone else?"

"I didn't steal it, I won it" BS replied indignatly.

"You were caught with a hold-out in your sleeve!" Rylak exclaimed.

"And if it was in my sleeve still, then I hadn't used it yet, had I? Had I been able to stick around, I would have explained that to him."

Rylak stood speechless at the absurd logic.

"Look", BS said, "whatever you wanna call it, I'll have the money for him by tommorrow night. He know's I can get it, I got his after all."

Shaking his head, Rylak walked off, calling over his shoulder, "You better have it this time. It's getting harder to cover for you these days."

Taking a deep breath, BS turned and walked back into the tavern. Maybe he should get started tonight, just to be sure...but first thing was first, he needed a drink.

[Scayde]

Turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of fast approaching hoof beats, Scayde saw the breathless young woman pulling up beside her.

"Scayde, Scayde, wait !" The girl exclaimed in hushed tones. "Gwally wants you to do a seeing. There are reports of ogres about. Can you tell us if they are true?"

Scayde bit her lip nervously. This was no sizing up of a village townsman for a penny. They might actually be in danger. Reaching into her pack for her crystal ball, Scayde felt the charms of her grandmother's bracelet jingling against her arm. With all of the enchantments on it, why was there not one for detect enemy?

Scayde sighed as she pulled out the velvet cloth and unwrapped the mystic orb. Holding it up in her lap, she began to run her hand across it in a circular motion. Glancing sidelong at Artemis, Scayde tried to discern his level of concern about the matter. Almost as if on cue, the bard looked skyward and with a voice that resounded with authority stated in melodious tones, "Would you look at that sky...not a cloud ..or a bird for that matter, to be seen......why, I don't remember a morning so peaceful and quiet in ages."

Scayde took the hint to heart and with a voice learned from listening to the old gypsy grandmother who had raised her she began to speak. "I see no one who wishes to cause us harm, which suggests nothing but a peaceful journey, rest and quiet, clear roads and fair weather. I sense no danger in our immediate future......of course ..this could all change.....but this is my reading if the signs remain as they are now."

Relief washed over the other woman's face. "Thank you Scayde, I am so glad Gwally sent me to you..I feel much better now." With that she turned her pony around to rejoin Gwalchmai at the rear of the caravan.

Scayde looked up at the bard riding at her side. She was grateful for his years and experience. If not for him, she was sure she would have been arrested as a fraud by now. Just then, up ahead above the horizon, she noted what neither of them had previously seen. Ominously dark, black clouds loomed thick along the distant hills. Suddenly a cool wind picked up. This did not bode well. Scayde was sure the storm would be heading their way.

[Nippy]

Jargoth had made good progress pounding his way to Ogre Ford, and he stopped above the town and panted slightly. Exhaustion creeping into his legs as the long days run began to slow him down.

He drew a deep breath, recovering slightly, and composing himself, he stepped forward, and fell flat on his face and rolled forward head over heel into the middle of Ogre Ford.

On his way down, bouncing jarringly, he cursed and swore, punctuating each word with a deep "Ooomph".

He was laid out, flat on his back, staring up at the sky. He closed his eyes and he began to swear softly one last time, before his pack caught up with him and caught him full in the chest. Once again the air was rushed out of him.
He stood up slowly, attempting to gather himself and caught sight of an inn.

The smell of ale and food caused his stomach to rumble loudly. He began to walk forward and saw some local kids snickering softly at him. He cursed loudly again and the girls face turned beetroot red and the boys mouth widened in surprise. Jargoth grinned widely.

He slammed the door open and walked straight to the barkeep.

"Ale and food. Now. Please." The last word was an afterthought. The barkeep's face turned sour as the smell of stale sweat wafted away Jargoth. "And a room and bath..." Jargoth smiled sheepishly.

[Aqua-chan]

The horse came to a slow stop as his rider took to tugging back on his lead. They were a distance off from the cluster of buildings that was home to a mass of people, looking it over to determine if that city was were they really wanted to go.

Aqua-chan had a difficult time trying to convince herself that the mismatched trio needed to stop there. In the time of their travelling, the mephit had curled up and fell asleep to the rythm of the horse's uneven trot. Aqua-chan had been eternally grateful to any god at that time for those precious, two hours of quiet. Though, Rint's nap wasn't the only sign of fatigue setting in. Her own eyes becomming sore with lack of sleep, and she noticed the horse had also taken several faulty missteps on the beaten path. Eventually the priestess' sense of reason overcame her stubborn attitude and it was decided that an inn would be needed.

A tiny screech of a yawn erupted as Aqua-chan kicked her heels into the beast's side.

"Are we theres, yet?"

"Just about. We'll have to find an inn with a stable before we can stop."

"Oh... That won't be hard. Just smell for smell of stables and we’ll find one."

"I don't know how you do things in Hell, but I'll find an inn my own way," she announced with a tone of finality, signalling that she did not want to speak anymore. Unfortunatly, Rint seemed to be obliviant to this notion.

"I'll find one... Just let me find one when we gets into that dad-durned city," the little monster yawned again, "Yep... 'cause I can smell really goods, I can..."

"Or, better yet, we could just ask for directions."

As they entered the city people began to scutter about on their business. A few "hello there"s and a couple of "good morrow"s were tossed their way. Women clad in blue and pink dresses went about their washing and other chores.

"So this is Ogre Ford," she said dully. In truth, Aqua-chan had seen much larger and more decorated cities that looked more welcoming than this. But then again, she had also seen worse.

They wandered about the streets for a while until the woman finally decided to ask for help. Rint had once again fallen to sleep on the rear of the horse.

"You there!" she called out to a man who looked to be staggering in the halfway point of drunken stupor and painful sobriety. He was standing out in the open with a glass of ale in his hand, looking around without any apparent purpose. Near him was a structure that interested Aqua-chan even more than him: a stable. "Can anyone use this?"

He looked up at her with a grin that made the priestess raise an eyebrow at him. "What? The horse pen?"

"I was referring to that, yes."

"It depends, I guess..."

"On what?" she asked, irritated.

"What you wanna use it for."

"Oh, for-! Tell me, what do you think I want to use it for?"

To her confusion and annoyance, the man's grin grew to a sideways smile.

"The stable is owned by the folks in there," he threw a gesture of his hand over his shoulder and at a tavern behind him. "Go on; leave your horse and go in. You look tired enough without me giving you a hard time, I suppose. I'll help you with that steed."

He picked himself up and she dismounted, once again waking her talkative famaliar. It took Rint a second to recover his senses and notice the stranger.

“Who’s that?” he asked in a low whisper.

“I don’t know. Go back to sleep.”

“Out here?!”

“Well, you’re most certainly not going to share a room with me,” she scowled viciously. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man snickering. “What are you laughing at?”

“I’ve seen cats and dogs with better relationships.”

Aqua-chan shrugged off his remark without speaking. She was tired, hungry, and in a really bad mood.

“How long do you plan to stay in Ogre Ford?”

“Not long.”

“Really, now?”

She shot him an icy glance that also allowed her to look him over. He looked to be a rogue of some sort, but she didn’t really contemplate it.

“We leave when I wake up and nothing can convince me to stay. Don’t even try to.”

He looked a little confused by this. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve seen it all before in taverns: drunkards want to get a little action, they ask how long I will be in town, then they try to make a move with some sort of rehearsed line that they try to use on barmaids all the time. Then when you slap them off, they begin an innocent little act.”

“You have a prejudice against men or something?”

“I have no prejudices. I prefer to hate people on a more personal basis,” she growled unceremoniously and began to take her leave to the tavern. He went into a trot after her and reached after her arm to try ang get her to come to a hault. It was then did he notice the symbol of Talos sewn into her robes.

“Oh.. No wonder why. You’re one of them.”

“One of them? What do you mean by that?!” Aqua-chan ripped her arm away and stomped off without waiting for an explaination.

“Wait-! Can we uh... Start over?”

“No,” she retorted as she pulled the door to the tavern open quickly, conveniently letting the man walk into it with a thump. She let herself in.

“That was rude, chicadiddy,” Rint slapped her shoulder, causing her to jump viciously high.

“How’d you get in my pack?!” she demanded, still surprised.

“I crawled in while you’se was flirting with that guy. I thinks you likes the guy, I does.”

“You thinks wrong,” she dropped the leather bag off her shoulder and let it fall to the floor with Rint still inside. “Get out, runt!”

“My name’s ‘Rint’, not ‘Runt’!” Get it right, chicadiddy!”

“As soon as you stop calling me ‘chicadiddy’.” AC rolled her eyes, then stopped everything suddenly. A certain figure in the room caught her attention: he was hard to miss and the priestess instantly knew who he was. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What?! Why?!”

“You see the big one talking to the barkeep?”

“Yeahs. So?”

“He’s the guy I took the horse from,” the woman grabbed the pack up again, almost dumping her familiar out. She was about to bolt back out the door when she crashed ubruptly into the man who she had left outside and fell back to the floor.

The woman was afraid to open her eyes. The tavern was silent. She was positive she had attracted everyone’s - including Jargoth’s - attention by now.

[Mysteria]

Dashing down the hill and through the streets, she barely avoided crashing into innocent bystanders. She dashed past the bar and around the next corners at top speed. Obviously, she was completely out of breath when she finally barged through the seamstresses door. "I'm here!" She called at the top of her voice as she half stumbled into the main room.

"I heard." Miss Narny rounded on her and stared you down icily. "Where've you been? No, don't tell me, those grass stains speak for themselves! How dare you leave like this! And TODAY out of all days!" She advanced on Ria with her fists on her hips, her voice loud enough to be heard two streets down.

"I ..." Ria took a step back, then another one. Miss Narny was a good head shorted than the redhead but also a lot more furious. "The lady Marigan was here already! I had to take care of her dress without any help! Do you realize how difficult it is to get the lower seam of a dress straight if you have nobody to check it while you needle it up? DO YOU?" Her voice rose another notch and Ria stumbled backwards, banging hard into the wall.

Miss Narny sniffed loudly. "Ha, I'm sure you 'forgot' again, didn't you? As always! At least I can judge myself lucky that you didn't stumble in here dressed like this." She jabbed her hand at the grass stains, which seemed to be after all more visible than she'd thought. "You're a disgrace! Get up in your room and don't come down again till tomorrow!"

Wide eyed, Ria nodded and sidled towards the door as a stack of cloth hit her which she barely managed to catch. "Mend those, at least your day won't be completely wasted that way! And don't dare to show up tomorrow while they still have a rent in them!"

Nodding, Ria finally made it through the door, face crimson. Heaving a breath of relief, she wistfully looked down the corridor. Her stomach was rumbling and she felt as if she'd see a huge hole in the middle of her belly if she looked down now. Surely, a little visit in the kitchen couldn't ... "And no snooping off into the kitchen to stuff yourself!" The small seamstress popped her head out of the room and glared after Ria as she hurried up the stairs and fled into her room.

"Whew." She dumped the clothes on her bed and slumped down into her only chair. "I shouldn't have come here at all." Well, now she had, and what was the result? A still empty stomach and an armfull of old clothes. Well, there was no way around it now, was there? She sighed and picked up a dark brown vest with a long rent in one of the arms. She looked at it in disgust for a moment before she took out needle and thread and began to mend it, jabbing at the cloth as if it were quilty of her current situation.

[Der-draigen]

Having gone some distance away from Athkatla, Der-draigen was wandering quite aimlessly, enjoying the warm temperature after her recent sojourn in the icy prison.

She had discovered that in rending the magical veil that had held her prisoner, she had somehow twisted time and landed in the..."past", for lack of a better term. This had been abundantly clear from the condition of Athkatla..what she had seen of it...She hadn't been able to bring herself to go into the city proper. Just took to the open and got away as fast as she could.

But lest her breakneck speed might show a weakness for memory, she slowed her pace about five miles out of the city.

She found herself wondering about the Stone of Rohais...if this was the past, where would it be now?...She had yet to discover precisely what year it was.

Toward nightfall (how much time exactly had passed Der-draigen didn't know; she tended to lose track of things like that), Der-draigen approached a town she had, to her own amazement, never seen before. It showed great promise in that regard. No doubt many fun new adventures awaited in such a place. The citizens all looked so...unsuspecting.

She entered the town and looked about. Nearby there was a small child playing in the mud by a nondescript house. Der-draigen approached him, and when her shadow fell across him, he shivered as if a polar gale had crossed the town.

"What town is this?" Der-draigen asked. The boy's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. Too terrified to speak, he just sat mutely.

Der-draigen knelt, closer to the child's own level. This terrified the poor thing even more. He had never seen eyes like that on anyone.

"What town is this?" Der-draigen repeated. This time the child was apparently too terrified not to speak. "Ogre Ford," he answered.

"Ogre Ford," Der-draigen repeated in her soft cold voice. She looked around. "Does your mother live in this house?"

The boy shook his head. "Ma died. Pa's gone."

"You are an orphan, then?"

The boy nodded.

Der-draigen thought for a moment.

"Take me to an inn, boy," she said, rising to her full height, which to the small boy was rather frightening, yet intriguing at the same time...She was almost taller even than an Elf, and he wondered if she could do magic.

Still, the child shook his head vigorously.

Der-draigen smiled, and drew a small round gem from a fold of her cloak. The child's eyes brightened. "Take me to an inn," she repeated, "and you shall have this, and I'll show you some pretty tricks."

The child rose tentatively and Der-draigen followed. I've always wanted to adopt, she thought, with a wicked interior laugh.