Chapter VII Commercial: Wizard's Game

Chapter VI: To Fitzigigg Cottage

The trek through the tunnels below Tradesdale were much longer than expected. Aeroth couldn't be certain, but they stopped and rested enough time for almost a fortnight to have passed. How much longer would they be down here? Could the Trickster be trusted? Where was he taking them? How far would they be from Horatio's cottage when they emerged?

Despite the grumblings of the group, he could not help but feel his spirits lifting. Caves, dungeons... they were his home. This felt like Cöthrom in many ways... so Aeroth couldn't help but smile secretly to himself as they pressed forward. He excelled at memorizing twisted tunnels, so during their long journey he played a game with himself to see if he could recognize their path.

When they stopped, the Trickster would disappear for an hour or two. But he would always return, usually with a few skinned rabbits, and some stale bread. They did not feast, but they did not famine either.

Then, at long last, when they thought they could march no more, when they could hardly remember what it was like to breathe fresh air an bask in sunlight, there cam a lit corner of the tunnel, revealing a tall sort of ladder. Up and up they went until a noise began to ring in their ears and light began to stream down at them from a hole up above. What was that sound? Perhaps water? But a lot of it-pouring down right over their heads.

They emerged on the underside of a waterfall. And when the last member was out (Aurora was grumbling from the added weight of the baby on her back), the Trickster turned and gave a big, swooping bow.

"I'm afraid this is where we part ways, my friends. It's been charming, I can assure you. And would that I could continue on with you where you're going. But I'm afraid I do have business elsewhere. However, it's not far from here to where you're going. And if you're swift of foot, you'll make it there by nightfall. And might I suggest that you do make it there before nightfall, considering your history with that sort of thing?"

Tic protested. "But how are we supposed to find Fitzigg cottage without you?"

"My guess is to ask the magician." The Trickster shrugged. "But it's not far from here. You can be there by nightfall if you walk fast. And I suggest you do."

"And where are you going exactly?" Asked Aeroth.

"Places. Places of business. Ah, but that's my little secret, mmm? I would wager a game of cards that we'll be seeing each other again soon, though. I flock towards those things that peak my curiosity, and you, my friends... well, you're very curious indeed." Though he wore no hat, he pretended to tip the rim to us in a grand gesture. "Farewell, curious mice. I hope you find your cheese."

And he was gone.

With a glance at their map, it was true. They'd come to the falls just south of Fitzigg cottage, and could well make their way there by nightfall. None of them had forgotten the experience on the road to Tradesdale. Wyveryn and Tic shivered collectively when thinking of the Bâhlmüt. Yes, it would be best to get there by nightfall and no later.

Each area of the Fearwood sparked different internal responses from Wyveryn, Tic, and Marco, the three most accustomed to forests. Here, as the sun sank into the sky, there was not that sense of there being something "wrong" as there had been on the road to Tradesdale. Rather, there was a sense of something shifting... as if every time they turned around, several of the trees had moved from their rooted spots. It was unnerving.

The baby sat in the sling across Banger's back, but seemed sick and unresponsive. They'd tried everything to heal her, but it seemed that the only chance of that would be to help her find her way home... wherever that was.

"I don't like this at all." Banger said under her breath.

"Me neither." Wyveryn and Tic agreed in unison.

"Do we ever like the predicament we find ourselves in?" Marco said, slightly annoyed.

"Better than a black dragon breathing down our necks." Pointed out Tic.

When the sun set at long last, a small light could be seen up ahead. The group silently shared glances, and mutually agreed to go forward. Marco knew this path well enough. He only hoped the old professor was home. This was no time for more surprises.

*****

The forest thickened as they drew closer to the light, but a sense of calm welcomed them to this place. Although it was highly unlike any forest Wyveryn or Tic had ever traveled, there was something overlooking it... like a fatherly presence. Now, this did not stop Aeroth, Banger or the others from being cautious and keeping their hands on the hilts of their swords. Too much had happened for them to let down their guard now. But when they came to the small wooden bridge and crossed it, they knew they had passed into Fitzigigg Territory.

The cottage was a hovel--half hut, half woven into the trunk of a Giant Sequoia tree. Tiny window were the sources of light they'd seen from the distant hillside, and a welcome series of stones led the way up to the front door.

Aeroth started with the orders again.

"Marco, you take the rear. I'll go to the front, Banger, Jewelynna, stay back--"

"Oh for the love of Tyr, Aeroth, sometimes a hut is just a hut!" And with that, Tic placed a rap, rap, rap on the old door.

There was nothing at first... then a scuffling... then a muffled voice, wavered with age.

"... Guests, Willowfoot.... see what's about.... No, don't get up. I'm at the door."

A click. A creek. Out peered a long nose, a white beard and a pair of spectacles. The nose sniffed, the beared wiggled, and the pair of gray eyes behind the spectacles darted about. When they landed on the magician, the door flew open wide in and out stepped the most peculiar old wizard any of them had ever seen.

The pointy hat on the top of his head was decorated with silver stars. His robes were black, his sash was blue and there were trinkets of unusual sorts about his neck. Horatio Fitzigigg walked with a slight stooped hunch, and there was a wobble to his finger when he pointed. But despite all that hair around his mouth, he broke into a grin.

"Marcus Magentum! How are you, old boy?! You're so much more handsome than when you were a short, spindly lad!"

He threw his arms open wide and the party watched in amusement as Marco found himself engulfed in a big bear hug. The magician blushed, but returned the embrace with affection.

Horatio pulled away, and considered each party member, with a brief pause on Wyveryn.

"And what friends did you bring to my hut tonight, Marcus?"

"Perhaps introductions can be made inside?"

"Of course! Of course! How rude of me. How silly of me. WILLOWFOOT!!! PREPARE THE TEAPOT! WE HAVE GUESTS!!!!!"

He shuffled them inside. The cottage, which had looked so tiny from beyond the door, was a vast expansive home on the inside. The den area was circular, covered with a hand woven rug. The kitchen was off to the left, with the smell of warm soup cooking. Several stairways led up and down to places unknown--perhaps bedrooms, perhaps magical chambers? Who could tell? For they were so busy taking in the waterfall of books strewn about that they could see not much else. Books overflowed into each and every room. Thick books, then books, old books, older books. Banger tripped on near the doorway and was saved by Tic's quick reflexes.

In the middle of the beautiful round den was a small stone pillar. It sat, quite complacently, as if waiting for something.

"WILLOWFOOT!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Horatio was bumbling about in the kitchen, peering under books and inside of cabinets.

"I see you fired your cleaning maid." Marco observed.

"Couldn't stand the woman. Always meddling in my things. You want something done right, Marcus, you simply must do it yourself. Like making TEA for example. WILLOWFOOT!!!!!!"

"Who is Willowfoot?" Muttered Aeroth.

"Oh, he's just my rat. WILLOWFOOT!!!!! Ah, there you are!!"

The rat was large, gray and fat. Very fat. A more well-fed rat, they had never seen. But it perked its whiskers about curiously and seemed to almost swoop its head in a bow. To their alarm, Horatio began carrying on a conversation with the rodent as if it were perfectly capable of speaking the common language.

"Where have you been, you naughty little rat? I've been looking for you. We have guests! Yes, the tea. Would you be so kind? Thank you. No, I don't know where they're from, but perhaps the magician will tell us. In any case, we must make them welcome. No droppings on the carpet, do you hear me?"

"Marco, is your friend crazy?" Aeroth muttered under his breath.

But the magician simply smiled. "Only when he chooses to be."

The baby, who'd appeared physically sick and had been very quiet, perked up when they handed her over. Horatio held her and cooed at her and tickled her under her chin. When he touched her, she seemed to regain a bit of what she'd lost on the long journey.

"This one needs to go home." He commented.

"Yes, but where's that?" Asked Aeroth.

"Well, that would be a very good question, wouldn't it? WILLOWFOOT???!!!" The little rodent came trotting over. "Where is the child's home? Do you know?... Yes?... Yes?... Yes?... You don't say..."

Aeroth waited patiently, then asked, "Well? What did he tell you?"

"He doesn't know."

The party heaved a collective sigh of irritation.

This banter went on for some time. The longer they stayed, the more they relaxed as a collective whole, though there were still glaces to towards the window as if expecting something to jump through it at any moment. Banger and Jewelynna strolled around the foyer, touching things and exploring the room. Aeroth and Wyveryn attempted communication with the old man, quickly discovering the Horatio Fitzigigg had a one track mind when it came to lost things... such as his rat. And all of his answers merely ended in a loud shout of the rodent's name.

It was decided that Marco & Tic would go outside to gather food and to scout for trouble. With them gone, Wyveryn was bolder than ever as he explored the pillar in the center of the room. It was only then that Horatio snapped out of the search for his rat.

"Don't get your fingerprints on that, young man. That is very important."

"This? But it's just a pillar."

"Just a--!" Horatio's cheeks flushed red as he scrambled for his spectacles. "Just a pillar! Is the sun JUST a sun? Is the sky JUST the sky? And are you really as dumb as you look?"

"Now just a--"

"A pillar, indeed!" Scoffed the old man. "It is a foretelling column. Only I've lost the bauble that goes on top. Been looking for it all morning and well into the afternoon. And that's about the time that I lost track of the old rat, whose probably the one who stole it from me in the first place! WILLOWFOOT!"

Under his breath, to Aeroth, Wyveryn muttered, "I can't believe we came all this way just to find him. This old man is crazy."

At the word "crazy", Horatio glared directly at the bad-tempered half-elf. "Crazy, huh? Well, I've got better hearing than even a half-elf, it seems, whose whisper is so soft it alert a whole army. Just for that, you've lost your tea privileges."

Wyveryn sighed grumpily, enduring the glares of Aeroth and the others.

"Just help him find the bauble, would you, Wyveryn?" The Paladin muttered. "You'd think after all we've been through, you'd be grateful for the hospitality."

"Grateful." He thought of a retort, but decided it was best to keep quiet.

******************************

Tic & Marco had been walking deftly through the thick of the forest outside the cottage, looking for bits to eat.

"You'd think the old man would have an herb garden, at least."

"He doesn't really need an herb garden."

"Out here, all by himself? And at his age? How does he even get around? Who doesn't have an herb garden? Or fruit trees? Or a well?"

"Horatio always manages to do things his own way."

"How long have you known him?"

"For many, many years."

"Since you were a child?"

Marco was about to tell Tic to mind his own business when something white caught his eye. He grabbed Tic by the collar and dragged him down into the brush.

"Shhh."

"What is that?" Tic wondered, then heard himself gasp.

The mare was white as the foam on the sea. But there was an unearthly glow about her, lighting her path and casting a sense of ease all around them. It was as if the trees parted for her, and so light was her step that the grass barely moved. Atop her head was a long, silver horn.

"A unicorn." Whispered Marco in amazement. He'd heard stories, of course. Oh, if only Aeroth could be here. Marco could finally show him one of the good sides of magic. Part of the reason he'd taken up with the Causists to begin was was the idea that not just terrible things resided in the caves of Cöthrom. There were creatures beautiful and good, trapped like terrified mice in a cage. It made him remember that his intentions at Cöthrom hadn't be all bad...

"I've never eaten Unicorn meat, before. I bet it tastes divine." Said Tic.

"Are you sick?"

But before Tic could react, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen came full into view. Long white hair tumbled down her back, and she moved just as silently as the creature, as if she were made of the forest itself. Curved and naked, she drew the beast closed to her and pressed her forehead to it.

"Um... Marco? Why is there a naked woman in the woods?"

And at his comment, she turned to look right at them. Both men stiffened.

Marco knew from his historical lessons that this was no doubt a dryad, a creature of the forest, made from the earth and the trees. He felt Tic tense, but neither man made a move to draw his blade. Instead, Marco began to back them away.

"Terribly sorry to have troubled you." He said.

"Yes, we were just out looking for some cheese." Tic then whispered to Marco. "She's gorgeous! Why leave now?"

"It's better to leave her to whatever her business was out here, Tic."

"What if we became her business?"

"Tic, shut up, turn around, and let's go back to the hut."

*************************************************


"I found it."

Wyveryn, perched atop one of the room's tallest bookshelves, proudly showed off the palm sized bauble he'd discovered.

"Well, what was it doing up there?" Aeroth asked.

"Maybe Willowfoot put it up there." Banger said dryly.

"Willowfoot! There you are! You naughty boy!" The little rat scurried up Horatio's shoulder, watching Wyveryn with amusement as the ranger climbed down from the bookshelf. He handed the bauble over to the old wizard.

"So what exactly is this supposed to do?"

"Watch and learn, Half-elf. Watch and learn...."




*****

When Tic & Marco came inside the cabin, they had felt the dream as strongly as the others. Thus, when Tic made eye contact with Banger, both flushed scarlet and turned quickly away. The trouble was, everyone else in the room could feel it as well, and even Wyveryn had no words to say. Horatio looked thoughtful and opened his mouth as if about to say something, when there came a light knock at the door.

Instantly Aeroth drew himself alert.

"Extinguish the lights. Marco, Tic, Wyveryn, stand guard by the door. Banger, take the window. Jewelynna, tend the child!"

Hearts pounding, they crept to their posts, weapons drawn and ready for battle. Though the little old wizard seemed oblivious to their plight. He hummed a little tune to himself, having a conversation with the rat at his side.

"Can someone please quiet him?" Aeroth asked.

"Just open the door, paladin." Tic replied.

"On the count of three, then. One... two...."

Three.

Deftly, the paladin flung the door open, only to find a covered basket sitting on the stoop.

"What is this?" Asked Banger.

"It's... cheese." Answered Marco. "And bread. I don't understand..."

"The wood nymph." Laughed the old wizard. "She comes round from time to time. Must have taken a liking to one of you. Brought us treats, to go with our soup!"

The lot of them took a collective sigh of relief. Tic, remembering the beautiful woman from the woods, eagerly snatched up the basket and took the first bite of cheese. "Wonderful!"

They closed the door, and returned their attention to the bauble on the pillar... though with the presence of food now, their bellies began to rumble. And so, for a while, they ate. It was not a feast, of course, but after the last few weeks, it certainly felt like one. And their hunger was satisfied... at least for the time being.

*****************

Banger put her arm on Aeroth's shoulder.

"Are you all right, paladin?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You seem distracted."

"I... well... this may sound odd... but I think the rat is talking to me."

"Talking to you? What is he saying?"

But it was the old wizard who drew himself up and interrupted the paladin's reply.

"Danger." He said. His pupils dilated. His irises went white. His head flung back as if he were seeing a vision.

The company leapt to their feet, weapons once again drawn.

"Danger." Horatio whispered again. "Coming from the north. Coming from all around. Go. You must go. Now."

"But--"

"GO!"'

And so they fled again, running upstairs through the abnormally large cottage, dropping their soup bowls and feeling the hunt overtake them. How had it come upon them so quickly? It was silent like a shadow, and Aeroth wondered if they would ever stop running? Out he flung himself through a back door, and to his dread he could see the movement in the trees. Whoever... whatever was out there... it was a great number. And they were likely surrounded. Damn! If only they hadn't been distracted by the old wizard!

They came at them through the shadows... Senshi warriors from the kingdom Gin. There was no mistaking the way they moved like silent spiders, and fought with their fists. All Aeroth could think about was getting the baby to safety. But there was so much chaos and darkness that he could barely find his own way.

And then, straight ahead, the moonlight caught the figure of a robed woman. Her black hair was pinned up with two red sticks. The scarlet sash at her waist marked her garb as being Ginean, but her face was familiar... one that he had seen many times in Cöthrom.

"Allandra..."

Marco recognized her as well, just moments before she cast her spell. And the whole scene froze. The sensation was bizarre, as Marco felt like he was stepping outside of his body watching the whole thing. Aeroth, Banger, Jewelynna, Tic, Wyveryn... everyone and everything came to a standstill. Frozen like ice. Except for Allandra. Despairingly, he watched her pluck up the child and examine her as she would a new toy.

"There are many who have been looking for you," she said. "But it is I who have found you. And I will bring you to my lord, Cardinal Okra.

No! Marco's thought was so strong in his mind that he felt himself breaking through the ice. That was when Allandra appeared to notice him.

"Ah... Marcus. I have also been looking for you for a very, very long time. Ever since the fall of Cöthrom. Where have you been, my sweet? Taken up with the wrong crowd, I see. Very well. You will all come with me tonight. We travel to Stronghold, as my prisoners. But you, Marcus Magentum, you will ride up front with me. For tomorrow your precious friends will face the Wizard's Game."

Chapter VI Commercial

Chapter V: Shadow Strike

hey were divided when night fell upon the city. Jewelynna & Tic were on the rooftop of her parent's home. Marco was also on a rooftop, signaling his companions with a mirror. Wyveryn was just walking, by himself, to wherever his feet would carry him. And Aeroth and Banger were on the way to the northwest city gates, baby in tow.

Aurora looked at the paladin with a frown.

"What is it, Banger?"

"I'm just wondering how it is possible that the man who masterminded your father's death is at your back and yet you scurry away like a little mouse."

Aeroth stiffened. "It is taking every ounce of strength I have in me not to turn around. But it is because of this baby that I press forward. You reminding me of what I leave behind does not help."

Banger shrugged. "It just seems odd to me, that's all."

Aeroth would have replied with an angry retort, when he realized something felt... wrong. They had come to an intersection. But everything seemed darker than it normally would. The streetlights ahead had all gone out. There was an alley to their left, along with a closed down inn. And to their right, another alley and a closed bakery. Not a soul was in sight, and yet, Aeroth could have sworn he heard a footstep. Or a scuffling. In any case, when he peered into the darkness ahead of him, he was sure that something lay in waiting for them there. An ambush, perhaps. Grabbing Banger's arm, he pulled her to the door of the inn.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Just trust me." And with the baby in his arms, he kicked the door open. They walked into a bar, L-shaped, with a closed staircase leading up. There was a doorway behind the bar, perhaps leading to a rear exit. At first, Aeroth thought that might be their best bet of escape, but as they drew nearer to the bar, Banger stopped him.

"Do you hear that?" She whispered.

He shook his head.

"Where is it coming from?"

She pointed a finger at the doorway behind the bar.

Trapped.

Swearing under his breath, Aeroth grabbed the nearest linens he could find to make a sling for the baby. He strapped her to his back and unhooked his ax from his belt. Glancing over his shoulder, he hoped the child would not stir. But to his amazement--as if she sensed the danger--she was dead silent. Her little blue eyes stared wide at the room around her, but she made no sound. Aeroth whispered a prayer of thanks to Tyr.

He gestured to Aurora to go to the stairwell. There they would make their stand. She nodded, and quietly unsheathed her sword. Backup up onto the closed stairwell, Aeroth could not help but cringe when his boot made contact and caused a loud creak.

They both watched, in horror, as four sets of black fingers grabbed the wall at the base of the stairs. Aeroth felt his heart skip a beat, but he drew his focus to his ax and prepared for battle. Simultaneously, a figure walked through the door. He was cloaked, and he moved through the shadows like a nightshade. When he was in the room, he removed his hood to show a head of white hair and face of charcoal black.

Drow.

"This is very, very bad." Said Banger. "Just thank Tyr it is not the one you threw the spear at in Cöthrom."

"I've a feeling that one is not far behind." Said Aeroth.



As the creatures at the base of the stair drew up, they saw they were Draegloths--half demon, half drow monstrosities. Four arms were attached to each body, and red eyes glared hungrily at them. Aeroth felt the baby still behind him, but she did not cry. Perhaps she was frozen with fright. Indeed, he could not blame her, for when the creatures drew up to their full height, they stood about ten feet tall.

"Aeroth Ravenswing." It was the drow who spoke, his voice thick with an accent. "You are still alive, it seems. There have been those of us who thought you dead, but our King knew better. He can smell your flesh in the world. And he sent me to be rid of you."

"Then tell your King he can face me himself, if he has the strength!"

"My friends here will determine your strength and your weaknesses."

And with a flick of his finger, the Draegloth launched themselves at the paladin.

****



Tic & Jewelynna realized their precarious position too late. The city was infiltrated. With a clear view of the landscape, they could see the shadows cascading over the walls like ants on an anthill. To climb back down would put them in danger's way. And clearly, Marco was nearby. His mirror-signal had caught the last bit of light.

Now, the houses of Tradesdale were close enough together that it might be possible to jump. And about three jumps away was a bridge. If they could get there fast enough, they might meet up with the magician.

"Do you think you can make those jumps?" Tic asked the healer. The look on her face was one of horror.

"How far is it?"

"Six feet. You can do it."

But it was clear Jewelynna was not confident that she could make it. Tic's heart skipped a beat. It was a three story fall down. If she didn't jump far enough... no he wouldn't consider that. They had to make it. Their lives depended on it.

As darkness swirled around them, Tic pushed her forward. "Just take a run and then leap into the air. You can do it, Jewelynna. I know you can."

He looked down to see her hands were shaking. The poor girl was positively terrified. But she swallowed her fear and did as Tic instructed. When she leapt into the air, Tic could see that she hadn't committed to the jump. He screamed and leapt after her. In an impossible move that not even he was aware he could do, his hand caught her wrist just before her descent. Tears stung her eyes as she realized how close she'd come to a long fall. Now Tic was not a large man like Aeroth, but he was unusually strong for his build. And in such a moment of adrenaline, he hoisted her up onto the next rooftop like she was a bale of hay. She wheezed and gasped and wiped some tears from her cheeks.

"Now," He said, "you have to do that two more times."

Jewelynna glared at him. "You must be joking."

"We have no other choice, Jewelynna. We cannot go down. Who knows what lurks there. Marco needs our help. And we cannot go back. Either way, you'll have to jump. But you can do it this time. I know you can."

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like a curse, but it was not clear to Tic what she said. For a moment, he thought she would give up. But the healer was made of stronger stuff. She stood, brushed off her green and gold robes and readied herself for the second jump.

Once again, she fell short, but this time, she managed to grab the opposite rooftop at the last moment. She clung there for dear life. What's worse, something tugged at her heal. Tic saw the shadow with the gleaming red eyes.

The little devils were climbing up the walls!



With a cry, Tic leapt again, this time crashing against Jewelynna's back, and kicking the creature off her ankle. The healer let out a yelp, but just as quickly, Tic managed to hoist himself up to the second rooftop and pull her close behind him.

Jewelynna's eyes were wide. "Are you crazy?"

"That's debatable. But no time to discuss it now. One more jump, Jewelynna. That's all I need. Once more to get to the brige. Marco needs us. Can you do this one more time for me?"

Brushing her hair back and getting a dark look of determination on her face, Jewelynna indeed jumped. And this time, she made it. Her experssion changed to one of utter surprise, and when she turned around to see where Tic was, she let out another yelp. For he was directly behind her.

"Well done." He grinned. "Now let's go."



****

When Marco finished signaling to Tic & Jewelynna, he made his way to the bridge. It did not take long for the three to be reuinted. But the joy was shortlived. For on either side of the bridge, shadows emerged from the darkness. Shadows that had crept up from the sides of the buildings. They did not launch an attack, but instead hovered in waiting.

Their position was a precarious one. Cornered, like rats, they stood helplessly on the bridge as the shadows lurked just beyond. Not far away, the lights of the ampithreatre cast an ominous glow, and the roar of the crowd rang in their ears. Yet all eyes were on the newly appointed Cardinal, and no one saw the three trapped on the bridge. Marco thought about calling out. But who would hear them?

As if the situation could not get any worse, a cloaked figure stepped out from the darkness. He came to the edge of the bridge and removed his hood. A head of white hair cascaed down his shoulders, and when he lifted his head, they saw the charcoal black skin that was unmistakably Drow. Marco & Tik instantly recognized this face as a face they had seen before. It belonged to the Drow from Cöthrom--the Drow Aeroth had thrown the spear at when they'd rescued the baby. The sight sent a chill down their spine.



“I am Ekarmordi, King of Drow," he said in a heavily accented tongue, "and I am here to pay a debt to Aeroth Ravenswing, who attacked me upon the rebirth of my people. You are to take me to him.”

The sound of giant wings filled the air, and a gust of wind picked up. Horror-stricken, they watch as the head of a young black dragon eclipsed itself over the bridge, and glared hungrily at the helpess three. Its breath was hot, it's snout was long and gleaming in the glow of the ampitheatre's lights. Its wingspan was twenty-five feet, and it shocked their bodies to the core with dragon's fear.

"Tyr's balls." Tic whispered under his breath.

"Not even those can save us now." Said the healer.



*****

"Wyveryn... help us. We need you."

The voice filled the half-elf's head as he walked through the streets of Tradesdale. There was a darkness to his mood, for he had grown accustomed to traveling alone. And yet now, for the first time, he was quite aware of his lonliness. It was all their fault. They'd gotten under his skin. And the baby...

"Wyveryn... help us. We need you."

He paused. "Why? Why??" He asked the wind. When there came no immediate reply, he suddenly realized he must look like a fool. Sure enough, the guards of the Amiptheatre were watching him cautiously.

They probably think I'm some crazy madman, he thought to himself. Well, maybe I am.

He was tired. Tired of books. Tired of babies. Tired of boxes. Tired of voices and dreams invading his thoughts. Tired of adventures. Tired of being told what to do. Tired of running. Tired of being beaten and attacked. Tired of feeling like a complete moron. He wanted to go back to the Fearwood. Back to the way things were before the fall of Cöthrom.



As he walked, his legs carried him to a dark intersection. To his right, a bakery and an alley. To his left, another alley and an inn with a door hanging off its hinges. But before he could consider how odd that was, Wyveryn sensed something coming directly his way. The streetlamps were all out beyond this point, but when he squinted into the darkness, he saw figures moving toward him. Three wore long cloaks. The others skampered along the ground and the sides of the buildings.

"Wyveryn, we need you. We are in the inn. Please come to us."

Spinning around, he thought to go back the way he came. But sure enough, there were more coming from that direction, too. Cursing, he realized the only way to escape was through the inn door. But he didn't want to go there. That was exactly where the voice wanted him to go. And he refused anything to do what it wanted him to do. He was the master of his own destiny after all, was he not? He would do what he want. Go where he pleased. And he would fight these creatures by himself. He needed no one's help.

There was only one problem. He had no weapon.

Thee three figures moved silently into the dim light of the street. They took off their hoods to reveal their long white hair and charcoal skin. Drow females. Wyveryn cursed again and picked up the nearest object he could find... a rocking chair on the porch of the inn. That was when the middle one spoke.







"We are the Three. We seek Aeroth Ravenswing. You are to take us to him."

"I don't know where he is."

She laughed. "We have no time or patience for your lies, half-elf. You have three seconds to decide. One.... two...."

******

The Draegloth raised themselves up to their full height. There were two of them, four arms each. They did, indeed, look like demons of the underworld. And when they launcehd themselves at Aeroth, he lifted his ax and let out the war cry of General Lux.

"By the hand of Tyr!!"

Everything shifted into tunnel vision. There was no sound but the hiss of the Draegloth... the whoosh of its claws at they swiped at him. All Aeroth could see was blood. It was the trance-like state he always went into when going into battle. Even his heart seemed to stop. Indeed, he could hear nothing... see nothing... but his enemy before him. And only when the drow spoke did he notice anything besides that.

"You made a grave mistake in attacking our Drow King, Ekarmordi. I am here to gather a reward for your death."

"Let me show you your first reward!" Screamed Aeroth. "And its called the Wrath of Tyr!"

He hacked into the neck of the Draegloth who fell before him, critically injured. At the same time, he lifted his hand to the heavens and called up his god. A black hole formed in the ceiling, and then crumbled above the Drow's head. The light that overtook him was piercing, and the Drow--this creature of darkness--let out a blood-curdling scream. He fell to the ground, his skin blistering in the god's light, and wailed as if he were being boiled alive.



It was all over in a moment. The light diminished. And in the spot where the Drow once had stood, there was only a cloak left scattered on the floor. Aeroth blinked, amazed at what he had done. Then in a moment of triumph, he let out a thunderous laugh.

"I think the expression is... Tyr's balls!"

Banger had managed to injure the second Draegloth, but had taken some injuries of her own. With a final swipe of her sword, she severed the head off the thing and fell to the stairs in an exhausted heap. Sweat poured from her brow, and she gasped for air.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"Someday I will tell you. Come, we must go upstairs. There are more coming."

*****

"Where is Aeroth Ravenswing? I know he is alive."

Marco thought quickly. "“I mean the kindest sincerity. I would be willing to give you his location if he were not traveling alone.”

Ekarmordi cocked his head. "Indeed. He travels with a babe. I will be taking her with me, too."

“Leave this city be, and I will direct you in his location."

"You beg a bargain of Ekarmordi? I make no bargains with lesser beings."

"Magician, what are you doing? You're not helping!" Hissed Tic.

But Marco just silenced him. "Perhaps we can come to an understanding. We know where he is. We will take you to him. Just call your beasts off."

Ekarmordi merely grinned. "As I just said, I make no bargains with lesser beings." And with a flick of his slender index finger, the black dragon reared up and grasped the bridge with its claws.

It shook them back and forth, like an earthquake. Tic and Marco held on for dear life, but poor Jewelynna was not so quick. One fierce jerk thrust her over the side and she had but a moment to grab onto a rope for dear life. The two men grabbed at her, just as she let out a piercing scream.



Jewelynna's scream was like an alarm set off. It resonated through the city and into the Ampitheatre, where the unsuspecting crowd turned and saw--for the first time--the black dragon hovering over the bridge. One woman echoed the scream. Another fainted. And it only took moments before chaos erupted and a stampede of panicked worshipers made their way to the vomitorium doors.

"We've got you, Jewelynna." Marco whispered. "Just hold on. You've alerted the city. Thank you!"

"Pull... me... up!"

Together, they hoisted her onto the bridge, as the dragon reared back for its first attack. It circled over top them in the sky, then spun around and shot downward like an arrow. They gasped in terror as they realized they were seconds away from their death.

"Hold onto me!" Cried Marco. He grasped the healer in his arms and teleported. Tic watched, disbelieving, as the two vanished into thin air.



"Horse's ass!" He cursed. There was nowhere to go but down. He should have looked before he leapt, but the dragon would be upon him in but seconds. And so, as if he were diving into the deep end of a lake, Tic raised his arms above his head and sprung into the air. There came a sickening sensation of falling. But as he tumbled, he saw the first laundry line and grasped it. Like an acrobat, he spun around once, released and grasped the next laundry line below. He did this three times before coming to land dexterously and quietly on the ground below.

Tic touched his face. He was alive. He was alive! The joy that filled his heart was suddenly eclipsed with the irritation he felt when he saw Marco and Jewelynna step out of the shadows.

"Thanks for leaving me up there!"

"You got down safely, did you not?" Insisted the magician.

"Yes, but with no help from you."

Marco scoffed. "I knew you'd be fine."

"That makes one of us!"

"May I suggest we take this argument elsewhere, as this is no place to be talking?"

The first of the panicked crowd of citizens had begun filtering out of the ampitheatre. Soon, they will be caught up in a wave of terror-stricken people. But the good news was if they moved quickly, the crowd would cover their escape. Marco thought for a moment of what to do next.



"Where are we to go?" Asked Jewelynna. "We cannot escape."

"We can." Said Marco. "There is one place. And one person who can help us."

"Then take us to him!" Tic said irritably.

Marco smiled. "Follow me."

****

"...Three!"

Wyveryn had decided at "two" that he would throw the rocking chair at the female drow. He thrust it at her, knocking her over, but the other two grabbed for their weapons. The first unsheathed her sword. The third reared back and threw a spear.



It was a rare moment in Wyveryn's short life that time moved so slowly. He watched the arch of the spear as is flew silently through the air. A sense of peace and panic came over him as he understood what was about to happen. Just as the stories told, his life flashed before his eyes. He thought of his mother first with her long brown curls And then of his father, with his sad smile. He remembered the elves who had schooled him, and the protection of the trees in the Fearwood Forest.

Closer came the spear. Closer still...

He thought of his life in Cöthrom and how everything had changed. He remembered being captured and waking up beside Tic in the caravan.... of the fishermen at Blythe and the feeling of Jigger practically breaking his jaw. He thought of Aeroth and Jewelynna... Tic and Marco... how none of them understood him. How he was terribly, terribly alone. And now would die that way. The last thought was of the baby... of that unmistakable warm feeling he'd gotten when he'd held her in his arms. Now he would never know what would become of her.

And before he could move... before he could run, he watched the spear sink into his soft abdomen.

Then the world went black.

****



Aeroth and Aurora had retreated to the upstairs of the inn. The first room they found they blockaded themselves inside. Through the window, they had the perfect view of the Ampitheatre and what they saw struck them with dread.

"A black dragon. Do you see it?"

"Yes." Said Banger. "I see it."

So had, apparently, the crowd at the Event. They ran, screaming from the Ampitheatre in a mob of terror. Many passed under Aeroth's window, oblivious to the two who watched them from above. There were other screams in the night. Aeroth imagined it was those being attacked by the Draegloth and whatever other horrors lie in waiting in the dark alleys.

They saw the black dragon dip low and disappear into the Ampitheater. It did not surface for several minutes, but when it did, there was a figure on top of it. A figure wearing unmistakable red robes. The Cardinal.

"Okra." Aeroth practically spat the name. "There's your man. There is my revenge."

"He rides the black dragon. He was part of this, too. Likely, he planned this attack."

"And no doubt is in league with the Drow King, Ekarmordi. No doubt he has orchestrated the events of tonight to make himself look like a hero. See how her rides upon the back of the dragon. They will say he is the savior of the city. He will cast away the shadows. He will be like a god to the Empire."

At Aeroth's words, Banger's face went white. She thought for a moment, then looked at him.

"What of the book?"

"The book?" Yes. He'd almost forgotten it. Aeroth pulled the brown leather-bound book from his pouch, shifting the baby on his back in the sling. "The Book of Everything... Well, Almost. We need you now. Are you awake?"



The book gave a half-hazard yawn. "Yes." It
said.

"Are our friends close by?" Asked Banger.

"Yes."

"Are they in danger?"

"Yes."

"Are we to stay in this room?" Asked Aeroth.

"No."

"Are Tic & Jewelynna in danger?"

"No."

"Marco?"

"No."

"Wyveryn?"

"Yes."

"And is Wyveryn close by?"

"Yes."

"You heard it," said Aeroth. "Wyveryn is close by. I suppose we should go help him."

"After I just moved that bed against the door." Grumbled Banger.


****

"Leave."

"For the last time, I'm not leaving."

Lux had told him once that redheads were stubborn. Though Aeroth had no idea what he was in for in dealing with Aurora Bengar.

He finally made a decision to give the baby to Aurora with the understanding that should danger be afoot, she was to leave. Immediately. But to her surprise, he took a moment to hum a brief lullaby before passing her off. Banger slung the quiet child to her back and gave him an exasperated look. Together, they moved the bed back from the door and stepped out onto the landing again.

There came no sound, not from below, not from the other rooms. Cautiously, Aeroth and Banger crept down the closed staircase again, careful to step around the creaking stair and the two lifeless bodies of the Draegloth. Aeroth's boot slipped a bit on a pool of blood. He bit his lip and held back a gag.

People ran past the windows in a wild blur, heedless of who or what was inside the inn. They were mindless, struck only by the terror of the dragon. No, the people of Tradesdale would be of no help tonight.

Once again, the hairs on the back of his neck stood high as he realized they were not alone in the room. Aeroth put his arm out to stop Banger from going any further. And as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he did, in fact, see figures near the front door. They were seated at tables... three of them. All cloaked. And a fourth... one who rested as still as a corpse. A spear had sunken into his chest. it was with horror that Aeroth & Banger realized that it was Wyveryn.

There was breath in his body. It came in slow, agonizing gasps. The spear must have pierced a lung. No doubt the boy was dying. He likely had little time left.

That was the moment in which one of the cloaked figures chose to speak.

"Aeroth Ravenswing. There are many looking for you. We are the Three, and we have come to offer you the life of your friend in exchange for something you have in your possession."

In unison, they lifted their cloaks to reveal their white heads of hair and their charcoal black skin. But these were females. Likely, three sisters. They sat, eerily calm, with their legs crossed and their eyes moving between Aeroth and Banger.

"How about you give me the boy and I spare your lives?"

The three Drow looked at each other and let out a low hiss of laughter.

"Now you are just amusing us. The boy has but moments to live, and you would stand there and barter with us?"

"You're right." Said the paladin. "No sense in bartering. Let me not waste any time."

And before the middle one could react, he'd lifted his ax and sliced her open from the shoulder to the navel. First and Third hissed and wailed, "Sissster!"

Aeroth grinned. "Now you bargain... with Tyr!"

They launched their attack.

"Banger, leave!"

"I'm. Not. Leaving!"

"Banger--!" The first one was on him. He parried her sword with his ax, then struck at her, knocking her off balance. Once again, his tunnel vision returned. All he saw were his enemies and Wyveryn's body.

I have to get to Wyveryn, Aeroth thought to himself. And when I do, I will heal him.

But the First was too quick and kept him busy. He sliced at her again, this time Aurora running her through. She screamed in pain, allowing Aeroth the chance he needed to Lay Hands on Wyveryn. A moment of light and warmth, and the spear shot out of the half-elf's chest.

He breathed as if it was his moment of birth--as if he had just come out of the womb and his lungs felt the expansion. There was pain--blinding pain. Pain such as Wyveryn had never known. Pain that made him wish he was dead. Aeroth shouted to him, but it fell on deaf ears. Wyveryn could do nothing but lie on the table and bear his heavy burden.

The second drow sister was killed shortly after, but the third and final one leapt onto Aeroth's back and dug into him. She threw her arm around his neck and attempted to choke him. But he outmaneuvered her, slamming her to the ground and thrusting his axe into her flesh. Soon the floor of the inn was swimming in Draegloth and Drow blood.

Wiping the sweat from his brown, Aeroth went to Wyveryn's side. "Can you walk?" He asked.

Wyveryn's eyes adjusted, and he looked at the soldier as if seeing him for the first time.

"What?"

"Can you walk?"

He sighed. Indeed, the pain had subsided. Not much, but enough for him to move and take slow deep breath. He would not be agile, and it would be excruciatingly difficult, but he nodded his head weakly.

But there was a heaviness to his heart.... a realization that something had changed. That the soldier had saved his life. And he was indebted to him for it. The thought blackened Wyveryn's mind. Why Aeroth? Why now? Why couldn't they have just let him be? Why couldn't he have just died? He never asked to be saved.

So what would become of him now?

Aeroth and Aurora lifted him from the table, and he stumbled a bit in his attempt. Whatever the Lay Hands had done to him, it was slowly healing his insides. He could feel it working, and it felt foreign and unwelcome. Being a half-elf, he was not new to magic. But somehow in this case, he felt invaded.

"We must find the others." Said Banger.

"Well, I don't know where they are. Do you?" Aeroth sounded irritated.

"No. But I'll bet the book does...."

****



There was a place in Tradesdale that was very unimpressive from the outside, but only those who were welcomed on the inside knew of its grand hall and "mock" throne room. It is the home of the Thieves Guild. Once, before General Lux established law, this city had been a mess of thieves, assassins, rogues and good-for-nothings. The Thieves Guild building had been in disrepair back in those days. It sat in the warehouse district with holes in the roof... termite infestations... and barred windows. They called it "The House of Rot". Old wives tales run wild about the the place. They say it was once the home of a band of child thieves called "The Forgotten Children", but then General Lux provided a stable military government and that changed everything. The city of Tradesdale flourished under its new parameters. And the House of Rot became the Thieves Guild.

It was here that Marco brought Tic and Jewelynna.

At the door were two guild members. When they recognized Marco, they let him pass. Through the modest doorway, they entered the throne room, a place where guild members convened and entertained each other. This was where meetings where held, votes were made, and the system was adhered to.

"What are we looking for?" Asked Jewelynna.

"It's not so much what he was looking for as to whom we are looking for."

"You speak in riddles, magician." She said impatiently.

"Fine then. Whom are we looking for, Marco?" Asked Tic.

"Him." The magician pointed to the throne at the head of the room. Draped across it, his long legs dangling over the side and his right hand flipping a gold coin, was the Trickster. Jewelynna gasped. She had never seen such a strikingly beautiful man before. And there was something quite disconcerting about him as well.

He grinned at them, flicking a strand of sandy blonde hair from his eye.



"You took your time getting here, magician."

Marco nodded his head in greeting. "We were... delayed, sir."

"Delayed." The Trickster tasted the word on his lips. "Knowing you, that would be a severe understatement. What brings you to my palace?"

"We seek asylum. Sanctuary. You are the only one in this city who might get us out safely."

The Trickster nodded. "That is very true. So you seek safe passage out of Tradesdale? Didn't I warn you to leave before nightfall? You haven't changed a bit, Marco. You still never listen to a thing I say."

"With all due respect, sir, time is of essence."

"Indeed." The Trickster sighed and stood. "It always is." Pulling a lever on the side of the throne, the chair slowly sank into the ground, revealing a winding staircase to the tunnel below. He gestured for them to enter. Jewelynna went first, holding her robes as she cautiously descended. Tic was right behind her. But Marco paused.

"Our friends. Aeroth, Wyveryn, and Banger. We can't just leave them here--"

But the Trickster waved him off. "My men will find them. They always do. If they are alive, they'll be brought here. But now, I suggest you do a disappearing act, magician. Or this moment might be your last."

*****

Aeroth rubbed more sweat from his brow.

"And you say the others are safe?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where they are?"

"We do."

Banger and Aeroth sprang upright with their weapons, bracing for another attack. But there were four men at the door. One of them was a rather small man with thickly curled hair on his head. He, like the others, wore gray cloaks, but their swords were not drawn. The one who spoke, the man with the curled locks, put his gloved hands up in the air.

"We were sent by your friend. The magician. And my friend... the Trickster. We mean you no harm, but you must come with us now, and quickly. We'll take to the shadows, for you cannot be seen."

Aeroth glanced at Banger, who seemed too tired to argue. She adjusted the baby in the sling behind her.

"Our friend here needs assistance. He is healing for a bad wound."

The curly haired man gestured to his men to help the half-elf, then to Aeroth he said, "My name is Simon. You'll have to trust me, for now. I am your only way out of this city."

"Then stop talking and get us out of here."

Through the bleak night, and past the screams of the citizens, Aeroth and the others crept through the shadows. He tried to cut out the sounds of despair, the cries for help. He tried to forget that he was was leaving Tradesdale in the hands of a mass murderer--the man who'd masterminded his father's death. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't a coward.

But as they went, he hung his head in shame.

*****

The party reunited at last below the throne room of the thieves guild. The room at the bottom of the winding set of stairs led to a series of dark tunnels. Only the Trickster knew the way. And so the Trickster would lead them.

"If you don't mind my saying so, you have an awfully unusual band of travelers with you this time around, magician."

"These are unusual times."

"A baby... A soldier... a healer... a boy... and a brooding half-elf. Oh to be a fly on the wall from the moment you met these fellows." The Trickster cocked his head at Jewelynna and smiled his charming smile. "Jewelynna. Back in town after all these years? And you left in such a rush. Certain secrets need to be kept, yes? Certain... family secrets? Shall I tell them now, or perhaps save that for the long walk from Tradesdale?"

They saw her face noticeably flush, and her retort was filled with more venom than they'd ever heard from the gentle healer. "I rather prefer to walk in silence."

"We'll wait then." He laughed. "But we have not yet discussed payment."

"Payment!" Aeroth howled. Then turning to Marco he said, "Who is this man?!"

"He is the only one who can give us safe travel from Tradesdale." Marco sighed. "What is it you want, Trickster?"

"There is a book with you, is there not? A book of everything... well, almost? I should like to see it."

"Don't give it to him!" Jewelynna hissed.

Aeroth agreed, looking to Marco for help. "Can he be trusted?"

Emphatically, the Trickster answered for him. "Abso-LUTE-ly not."

"Give him the book."

Banger made the transfer.

"Ah... such simple craftsmanship. The fabled book of the philosopher, Horatio. I have been waiting to see this for some time." The Trickster flipped through its pages. "I hope you don't mind if I explore it while we walk."

"Just so long as we walk." Said Aeroth through gritted teeth.

"I believe there is also a riddle box in your possession?"

They stared at each other dumbly.

"Oh come now." Said the Trickster in exasperation. "To whom was it given?"

"Marco found it." Wyveryn said.

"But it was said to be given to you!"

Reluctantly, the half-elf produced it from his cloak.

"The Riddle Box," explained the Trickster, "is a curious creation. Shall I read the exact definition to you from the book. You all can read, can't you? Well, I know this one can, at least. Magician, would you do the honors?"

Marco took the book from the smiling Trickster, and opened to the correct page. "According to Chapter...em... Chapter Diddle Dee Doo, A Riddle Box is an ancient device created by the Matsudiian design and adapted by the Shambhalan priests. A riddle box can only be opened by solving its individual riddle. As to how these boxes are created, or if there are any other ways to get inside them, those secrets are carefully guarded by the Dragonborn and the Shambhalan Priests.

Some are simpler than others. It is widely believed that the more complex the riddle, the more treasure it bears inside. They can also be distinguished by their bothersome habit of a disappearing and reappearing lock, as Riddle Box locks are mainly for show."

Aeroth and the others shared a look. Instantly they thought of the disappearing lock on General Lux's door. Were General Lux's quarters a Riddle Box?

Turning back to the task at hand, Wyveryn wondered allowed where they were supposed to find the riddle?

"Did none of you think to look on the bottom of the box?"

Wyveryn blinked in disbelief. Turning the object over, sure enough, there was writing on the bottom. He rolled his eyes and looked up, talking to no one. "Who knew it was on the bottom of the box?"

Marco snatched it up and read:

"O ter Caer air eiraes kolol air.
You must keep it after giving it."

"You must keep it after giving it..." Aeroth wondered aloud. "Is it something we can touch? Something we can hold? Or perhaps an idea?"

"Well, that is a good question, paladin," smirked the Trickster. "It's too bad we don't have an all-knowing book in our possession."

Aeroth muttered something under his breath, while Tic just looked amused. The more pithy remarks the Trickster made, the more Tic seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Book, are you awake?" Asked Aeroth.

"Yaaaaaawwwn. Yes."

"Do you know the answer to the riddle."

"Yes."

"Will you tell us?"

"No."

"No!"

But Banger touched his shoulder. "Book, is there a reason you're not telling us?"

"Yes."

"It's because you want us to work together to solve it, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Both Wyveryn and Aeroth grumbled openly at that.

"I don't see what working together is going to get us." Snapped Wyveryn.

"I think that's the point the book is trying to make." Marco retorted.

"My understanding," said the Trickster, "is that the riddle is catered to the person it's made for. This box was given to the half-elf. Suffice to say, the answer has to do with him."

Marco considered his words for a moment, then agreed. "Book, is it the 'world'?"

"No."

"Is it 'love'?" Asked Jewelynna.

Again the book denied them. And then something struck Aeroth so suddenly that he could not help but blurt the thought out. "Is it 'your word'?"

"Yes."

The lock reappeared, and clicked open quite suddenly. They had solved the riddle.

"Well done, Paladin. But now to what's inside..."



Wyveryn opened the box. There were two scrolls, thick documents each, and sealed with the letter "L" on them. Curiously, he pulled them out and opened the first one. This was what it said:



They stood in stunned silence. Abruptly, Aeroth wiped his cheek with his sleeve, hoping none of them had noticed. Wyveryn had an expression mixed with horror and disbelief.

Then Aeroth Ravenswing did something very unexpected. He turned to Wyveryn, knelt on one knee, and bowed his head.

“You are the grandson of my father, Yvander Lux. And I swear to you on my life, I will protect you.”

Wyveryn could not mask his displeasure. He took the document bearing his rightful ownership of land and threw it at the paladin. Like a child throwing a tantrum, he said, “You can have it!”

“This is yours, Wyveryn. Rightfully so. And I will say this: The Lux that I know, the man I claim as my father, sounds to me like he was very proud of you in his own way. And I think, had he known you and I know you, he'd probably be rolling over in his grave, but I think he'd still be thankful that you've done your part. Wyveryn, you must understand, I don't claim my honor to you because of who you are, but because of who you represent: Lux. Both of our relation. I'll fight for his honor, even if you choose not to.”

“I represent my father. He had no love for Lux. Neither do I.”

“Then perhaps you'll learn to love me. Here among friends, you'll be safe. And that I will always bring you back from death.”

“You don't need your land, paladin. Take mine. Let's end this. Let's go home.”

"Wyveryn, I don't want land. I want freedom.”

Tic put in, “We need homes to go back to.”

Aeroth's tone changed slightly, as he stood from his kneeling position. “If nothing else, boy, you owe me a debt.”

To that, Wyveryn had no retort. And it angered him more than he cared to say. It wasn't fair! None of it was! He hadn't asked for this! He hadn't asked for a debt! Why was this all going so wrong?

“It is kind of fair.” Tic said.

It took all the strength he could muster up to speak his next words.

“All right."

The group looked at him surprised, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But for the first time since they'd known the troublesome half-elf, he looked completely and utterly defeated.

"I will owe you, Aeroth Ravenswing. But when that's repaid, I'm going.”

“Oh!" Tic cried. "He saves your life NUMEROUS times, but you don't owe ME your life. You lured that spider RIGHT into the perfect place. How brilliant of you. Thank you for helping me kill that dryder!”

“Exactly." Aeroth was stern. "We saved your life how many times? And have known you how many weeks? How you going to get out of this without us?”

They were interrupted with a clap of his hands as the Trickster laughed merrily. "Family reunions. I love them. I really do. This has all been so entertaining. I haven't been this intrigued since Hiroko Dragonborn drank me under the table."

Tic gasped. "You knew Hiroko?"

"The son of Tyr? Aboslutely. Nice fellow. Could really hold his liquor."

"I know! Wasn't he something else?"

"He was, Tic. Or should I call you... Thomas Flick?"

Again, they hushed. Tic stared at the Trickster as if he had just spoken words of death.

"How do you know that name?"

"It is my business to know names. And your business not to know mine. This world is changing. And it has become clear to me that wherever there is change, the group of you are left in the aftermath. And so I seek... I search. The magician knows. I puzzle over each of you. Call it a hobby of sorts Thomas. I mean Tic, of course. And the orphaned paladin... or Lareth, as you chose to be called. Seems you can't take the soldier out of the man. So much for the life of a husband and a half-elf. You are always exactly who you seem to be. I hope you never try for a career as a thief. You'd fail miserably.

And to the Healer, who keeps many secrets of her own. How long can you keep a secret, little healer? And what price would you pay to find the answers to some of them?

The magician is the only one of you who understands secrets, though he may not know that I'm familiar with more of them than he thinks. Even your true name, sir. Yes, even that.

But the question is, what becomes of the brooding half-elf? The legacy of General Lux? Does no one understand you, boy? Is that the problem? Do you look around you at the gifts given to you and pout like a child? Is there a man inside that legacy, or did the legacy die in Cöthrom? Seems to me you have some decisions to make, half-elf. Lucky for you, these tunnels are long and winding. There'll be plenty of time to get lost... or to simply get lost in your thoughts."

As his words trailed off, Tic turned to Wyveryn and smacked him on the arm. "I like him!"

But once again, Aeroth turned to Marco and asked if the Trickster could really be trusted.

"How do we know that he has our best interests in mind?" Asked the paladin. "What if he's just leading us into another trap?"

Surprising them again, the Trickster spun on his heel to face them. This time, his expression was oddly grave.

“Make no mistake. I am not to be trusted. And any man who does trust me is a fool. But I will say this. I am not here to divide you. I am here to help you. And with that said, let's go.”

*****

Chapter V: SHADOW STRIKE

Chapter IV: The Road to Tradesdale

espite the events of the last few weeks, and despite their aching bones and the flinching at shadows, it was hard not to feel rested after a night spent in Legend's Hollow.

The party convened at dawn's breaking in the main tavern--the oldest building. Legend's Hollow was once simply just a wayfaring tavern. It had now blossomed into a resort of sorts... a midway station between Cöthrom and Tradesdale. There were now restaurants, pubs, a theater, several buildings with grand rooms, stables and even a natural hot springs. Legend's Hollow boasted one of the most beautiful locations in all of the Kaembran Empire. It was a welcome moment of rest for the travelers from Cöthrom.



Marco squinted his eyes. There was no sign of the gyspy woman called Vandra. And that troubled him. The fact that they'd all dreamt about her and she'd spoken their names last night... the fact that she's read his fortune and it rang true... it all troubled him.

He was still uncomfortable around Aeroth. The man seemed so focused on getting to safety and figuring out all the answers to all the questions that he hadn't stopped once to interrogate the magician. Marco counted himself lucky for that, for he never would wish himself again to be on the wrong side of Aeroth's wrath. Better to keep moving. Keep finding answers. But with no gyspy woman and no sign of anyone from "the trade", he was frustrated and completely at a loss.



Wyveryn, too, kept his eyes darting about. But for different reasons. For one, he hoped to find a barmaid and order a drink. For another, he was considering finding a way out of this mess. The more he traveled with these people, the more he disliked them and felt a great urge to leave. Could he leave at this point? Or was he also trapped like a rabbit? He watched in irritation as Jewelynna caressed the baby on her lap. Who brings babies into taverns? It would certainly draw attention.

He ordered a drink and sulked.

Two men wearing red and brown tunics strode past Aeroth and muttered, "Scum" under their breath.

"Be careful, or that may be the last word you utter."

One turned back to look at him and just laughed.

Aeroth was sure to show his half-elven ears, but the men moved on. It was clearly time to stop looking like a soldier from the Liberist Army. If only Tradesdale were closer. He could buy himself a tunic and begin passing into his new life.

"Laereth." He said out loud. "That will be my new name. It is close enough to Aeroth, but different enough. And I like it. Laereth I will be from this day forth."

As if responding to his name choice, the baby started to cry. There came irritated stares from those in the room. Many halted their conversations to glare pointedly at the group. And no amount of soothing did the trick. It was time to make a decision, and Aeroth was good at that.

"Let's go." He ordered, pushing his chair aside.

"I just ordered my drink." Grumbled Wyveryn.

"Now."

Wyveryn had had just about enough of being ordered around. He was nomadic by nature. And though he'd had soldier training, he knew now that he would never be a soldier like Aeroth. He was too much of a free thinker. He liked to make his own rules. Aeroth needed structure. Wyveryn needed the forest, a weapon, and not much else. It was then that he decided that he would part ways with the company upon reaching Tradesdale. Any sooner might put him in danger, but any later and he just might start saying, "Sir, yes, sir" when commanded.

Outside, in the beautiful courtyard of Legend's Hollow, Jewelynna did something strange. She attempted to hand the crying baby to Wyveryn, whose face went ghostly white.

"I don't want to-"

"Give her to me." Aeroth snatched her away before Wyveryn could grasp her. Still she cried.

"Will nothing make this kid happy?!" Wyveryn complained.

"I already have two whining babies. I don't need another one." And with that, Aeroth sat beside a waterfall fountain and sang a song once sung to him by Lux himself. He watched, in amazement, as the crying babe slowly stilled and listened intently to his voice.

"They battled for days and they battled for nights
A thousand, it's said,
A thousand, it's said,
But General Tieren won at dawn's last light
And the trails of the city ran red.

The twilight began then, the dawning of Tyr
To balance and cure
To balance and cure
Those brave soldiers gave us a world without fear
Though it was not without forfeiture."

And Tieren pointed at the dragon in the sky
The last of its kind
The last of its kind
'With the death of this ancient, all magic must die'
And so dawns the age of mankind
So dawns the age of mankind.'

Wyveryn thought the lyrics morose, but so fond was Aeroth's memory of the song being sung to him by General Lux that the baby was soothed and soon slept. Jewelynna let out a sigh of relief, and took the child back into her arms.

****



Marco slipped away from the group to purchase cloaks and to ask around for the gypsy woman. No one seemed to have seen her or heard of her. Such news was disconcerting. Having trained all his life as an assassin, Marco knew that people always left a trail.

At long last, he found one man who said he'd seen her.

"She said she left something for one of you." He shrugged. "Don't know which one, and don't know what it was. Don't even know why she bothered telling me. But you asked."

"Thank you, sir." Swift as a bolt of lightning, the magician returned to their quarters, only to find a small wooden box on Wyveryn's bed. There was a golden lock built in... nothing beyond Marco's ability to pick. And the urge to see what was inside certainly was there. But he'd made enough bad decisions lately. In this case it was best, perhaps, not to know.

He pocketed the object and left the inn to find the others.



****

The party's plans to continue their sail down the river were thwarted by the sight of a group of guards gathering at the docks. Upon closer inspection, Wyveryn recognized the white-bearded fisherman from Blythe. And of course, standing two full heads taller than the rest of them, was Jigger. The young half-elf took a step back and tried not to let the others see the beads of sweat on his face.



"I think we should go. Now."

Aeroth peered at him angrily. "What did you do back in Blythe? Who are those people?"

"Not important." Said Tik. "But I agree. We should go. Now."

"On foot?!"

"On foot. Do you have a better option?"

Aeroth swore under his breath. "I told you two to find a boat. I never said anything about stealing--"

"You said by any means necessary!" Wyveryn protested.

"Just walk." Said Marco. "We can discuss this later. Here, put this cloak on. We leave at once."

Aeroth's grumblings continued long after Legend's Hollow fell back from their sight. He grumbled as the sun rose high above the treetops. He grumbled as he placed each foot in front of the other. Instinctively, the group walked a few paces away from him, lest he erupt like a volcano.

****



The road to Tradesdale would be a two-day journey by foot. It was scenic, with mountains and lakes alongside it. There was decent rainfall in the southern Kaembran regions, resulting in lush trees and foliage. There was little cause to worry about Briagands. The road was well-traveled, for Trade's Day was in two days. The company would arrive just in time for the festival. So joining them on the road were merchants, fur traders, blacksmith, weavers, cobblers, bakers, jewelers, and chandlers. All seemed excited for the upcoming trade, and since the the hibernus snows were melting, they were enjoying the warm weather.

Aeroth and his companions were mostly quiet. There was a feeling in the air left unspoken, but Aeroth knew they mourned the loss of their friend, Hiroko. He had been like a right-hand man to him in the short time he'd known him. And Aeroth was sure that if they'd had more time together, they would have been a force to be reckoned with. It saddened him now to think of what had become of him. But he said nothing, as the others said nothing. There was no use talking about the past.





An old couple, hobbling along with their mule and a small wagon, struck up a conversation with Aeroth's group. Marco, curious for information, pressed them gently for information. They spoke animatedly about a "special event" they'd gotten tickets for.

"What event?" Asked Tik, having overheard the subject.

"Oh, you know. The event! The one everyone's traveled to Tradesdale for on Trade's Day! Celebrating the son of Tyr! He will save us all!"

"The son of Tyr?"

"Aye!" Said the old woman. "He is risen again. And the Cardinal comes to speak to us at the Event in Tradesdale. Everyone is going. You should see if you can get tickets."

"Eh?" Said the old man. "There's thickets ahead? I don't see none."

"Oh hush up and just walk your ass, Virgil."

"Hrumph!"

An Event. The son of Tyr. And the Cardinal. At the mention of Simeon Okra, Aeroth's face darkened. Jewelynna recognized the look... as if the hungry lion was about to pounce upon the unsuspecting deer. Though Simeon Okra was hardly unarmed prey. Even if the Cardinal was speaking at the event, how would they get to him? What was Aeroth scheming in that large head of his?

As the day wore on, the people traveling along the road began to speak in whispers. At twilight, the road was silent. Soon, the merchants, traders, blacksmiths, chandlers and even Virgil and the little old woman created a circular caravan of wagons to set up camp for the night.

"What are you doing?" Marco asked the little old woman.

"It's not safe to travel along the road at night alone." She said. "You're best to stay here with us."



And as if her words took form, a sixth sense shot into the back of Tik, Wyveryn, and Marco's neck. Their hairs stood on end, as they watched the shadows from the trees dance around them.

"This is not good." Whispered Wyveryn. "It's the same things that attacked us at the Temple of Tyr."

Tik looked up to see shadows moving through the treetops.

"No," he said. "This time it's different. They're in the treetops."



They moved inside the caravan, wondering what sort of protection the group would give them. If this was Bâhlmüt, there would be no protection to be found. It would simply depend on numbers. If this was the army of Wraiths, then there was no hope. Aeroth and his company watched and waited.

And then, at the worst possible time, the baby erupted in tears.

"Calm her! Quiet her down." Said Wyveryn.

"I can't!" Jewelynna tried desperately to soothe the weeping babe, but nothing seemed to help. And to make matters worse, a guard approached them with a lit torch in his hand and the other hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You'll silence the child now, or you risk all our lives." He instructed.

"You'll do best not to give us orders." Aeroth challenged him. Tik and Wyveryn shook their heads.

"Who are you? Some peasant? We are here to protect these people. You cannot silence your child, then you'll kill us all."

"I do not need you to tell me what to do." It was clear Aeroth was losing control of the situation. Even worse, all his anger and frustrations were being thrust full force at the guard. His companions behind him grabbed his arms, trying to pull him back before he said something that would throw them out into the darkness, helpless and alone.

"You have exactly ten seconds..." Said the guard.

This time it was Tik who held the baby and sang a song of the Elladrin. In relief, the company watched the baby relax in his arms and cease her cries. Just then, the trees moved and every guard with a torch held it out at the shadows. Aeroth threw his staff out onto the trail and watched in horror as several shadows scattered. There seemed to come from them a collective hiss of displeasure, and whatever it was just beyond the caravan backed away in revulsion. It did not seem to care for the light. He recalled throwing his spear at the drow man from the caves of Cöthrom, and realized that he wasn't making any friends lately.



Aeroth turned haughtily to the guard. "You are very lucky."

"No, you're lucky. There's more of us than there is of you." And with that, he left.

"He'd better be careful." Banger muttered under her breath to the night air. "If he's going to pretend to be a peasant, he has to learn to act like one."

****

That night, they dreamt again. This time, the voice belonged to Marco's mother. He recognized it instantly, but could not keep her from telling his secrets to his companions.



Marco awoke to find Aeroth staring right at him. He rubbed his eyes and did not need to ask if the others had seen what he'd seen. Trying not to act disconcerted that the others now knew many of his secrets, he tried to console himself with the fact that at least his mother had not written his true name.

"This baby will help me find my sister before she dies."

"The child's connected to your sister?"

"The child is connected to us."

Even as he said it, Marco did not realize just how true those words really were.

****

The closer the party came to Tradesdale, the busier the road became. Soon it was cluttered with horses and wagons, people and goats. The travelers felt like sheep being herded through a fence as they passed the city gates.

It was a glorious place. Having once been a home of thieves and cutthroats, Tradesdale had thrived under the strict government established by General Lux. It had been built along the river, with a friendly view of the mountains and valleys. Indeed, Tradesdale seemed a most welcoming place. Wyveryn, however, though it much too overcrowded. Jewelynna kept her hood about her head, frightened that someone of her family might recognize her. She glanced worriedly at the baby, who'd been in and out of sleep and then would cry in hunger. But what did fey babies eat? She was too scared to find a wet nurse lest it kill the babe. For she and the others were discovering the vast differences between human and fey.

It was when they made their way into the town square that they first caught a glimpse of the statue. It was made of a black opal stone, so dark that it did not even reflect the sun's light. The piece was still under construction, so there was scaffolding around and sculptors busily chiseling away.



It was obviously a man, proud and tall, his handsome face bearing toward the sky, his best bare and his belt and pants of Matsudiian design. He wore sandals on his feet, and there was a sword in his right hand which he raised to the heavens. A shield was on his left arm. His hair was long and flowing, his face outlined in tatoos.

Jewelynna let out a gasp. This was when they collectively recognized the figure of their lost friend, Hiroko Dragonborn. Suddenly they became aware of the people around them, passing by the statue. They touched the back of their fist to their foreheads and bowed in reverence. Some mothers held their babies up to the opal Hiroko and whispered words of prayer.

"Tyr's balls." Aeroth said, stunned.

"So, this must be the 'son of Tyr'." Said Tik. "Unbelievable. I used to get drunk with him in Cöthrom."

But the rest of the party, so accustomed to pithy comments and witticism, merely stood in a long, staggering silence.



****

Eventually they separated, trying not to notice the deification of their friend from Cöthrom. Truthfully, they each had their own business in some place or another. And the agreement was to convene at The Elf King Inn by drawbridge of the castle. Aeroth and Tik went to buy supplies, Tik itching for the opportunity to find some swords. Jewelynna thought it best to go straight to the lodging and tend to the babe. Marco silently went his own way without many words.

But where Wyveryn was going, he had no intention of coming back.

He walked down as many alleys and smaller streets to avoid the crowds, but it was near impossible not to. Trades Day was the biggest day of the year in Tradesdale. And Wyveryn's ears hurt from all the merchants barking at him to trade goods. His feet kept moving, one in front of other, until he found himself in front of the library steps.

It was an impressive building, obviously made to look older, but Wyveryn knew the library could not have been one of the original structures of Tradesdale. It must have been built by Lux's government. And the off-handed thought made him wonder who was acting running this city now the General Lux was dead? The thought flittered away as he found himself drawn to the great big pair of wooden doors. They were already open, inviting him in.

And so he went.

****

It was along one of the main streets by a large brown and brick tavern that Marco caught sight of the first familiar face he'd encountered since Cöthrom. The man would have been otherwise inconspicuous. He was dressed in a simple brown tunic, tan breeches and brown leather boots. He leaned against the building as if he owned it, smoking a corn cob pipe. And as Marco approached him, the man made no sign of recognition. Indeed, he did not even glance up from his pipe.



He merely said, "Well, Magician, it has been a long time."

"Indeed. That it has. Greetings, Trickster."

"Greetings, Marcus Magentum. What brings you to this city in these dark times?"

"Information gathering. What do you know about this event?"

The one called The Trickster was a young, good-looking man. His ears were slightly pointed at the end, marking him as half-elven. His hair was sandy blonde, his eyes a mischievous brown--so dark they could almost be marked as black. And his demeanor was that of a cocky young fellow who owned the entire city. Marco had known the Trickster for many years. He's seen others mistakenly underestimate this boy, and pay a high price for it. The Trickster had been known by many names. Within the guild, many jokingly called him "The Boss" for his high sense of self-worth. But Marco wouldn't have really been surprised if this boy really was the Boss of Tradesdale. He knew everyone's business and no one knew his. The sign of a good thief.

The Trickster cocked his brow in a way that made him seem thoughtful. "The Event is a joke. The people suffer. Dark things come through the city gates at night. They feel unprotected and are looking for a savior. Hence the statue erected at the City Gates. They believe the son of Tyr has risen, and he is embodied in Hiroko Dragonborn."

"I believe Hiroko is being held here. Have you seen him?"

The Trickster scoffed. "Seen him? No. They say he's dead. Or risen, rather. I supposed he will have had to die in order to rise."

"Is it true the Cardinal is speaking tonight?"

"Aye. To give healings. But I like it not. The whole thing seems too staged. There is trouble afoot, Marco. You came to Tradesdale at a very bad time, perhaps. Hopefully, it won't cost you your life. But I can't promise that. You don't know what it's been like here these last few weeks. Ever since Redemption Day, as the Fool Prince likes to call it, children have been stolen from their beds at night. People close and lock their doors at twilight, for we are under some kind of silent attack. And what's worse, we are receiving no help from the castle. They shut their gates and let none in until the morning. The people are angry. They call for justice. So you see, if the Cardinal had not come himself, there would have been a riot."

"You think so?"

"Aye, magician. People will do just about anything if they are frightened and desperate enough." He flipped a gold coin nimbly in his hand an pocketed it.

"I see. Thank you for your time, sir. You've given me much to think on." And then, something pulled at Marco. A distant tug, but it told him to move on from there. And perhaps find the library.

"Best of luck to you, magician. Tyr knows, you will need it."


****



The library was much larger on the inside than it seemed on the outside. Never before had Wyveryn seen so many dead trees in one place. He walked, the heels of his boots clicking on the wooden floor. It was such an odd sensation, moving silently through the forest of books, as if he were being led by the hand. Then he came to an aisle, empty and dimly lit. The impulse to go there overcame him, as gentle as a voice whisperig the suggestion in his ear.

That was when he heard a voice, thin and high pitched like the squeak of a mouse.

"Down heeeeere." It said.

Wyveryn stared at the seemingly normal book from which he thought the voice had come from. It was impossible not to look over his shoulder to see if someone was playing a trick on him.

"Go ahead... open me."

It was a small brown leather-bound book, with a gold emblem on the front. Amazed, Wyveryn picked it up and stared dumbly at the thing. There came a flatulence sound from it... a giggle... and then, "Wyveryn!"

His heart stammered in his chest.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I is not so thoughtful as what am I where who is not.. ful."

"What??"

"I am the Book of Everything... well, almost. I know the things of downright truth... and upmost. Inside my pages are the things of which I boast. Just don't forget I know it all.... well... almost."

Wyveryn blinked.

"What am I to do with you?"

"Go ahead... open me."

Feeling absurd, Wyveryn opene the cover to the title page. It read:

The Book of Everything... well, almost.

"Are you really talking to me?"

"Yes."

"Did you compel me to come here?"

"Yes."

To himself, he said, "I am going mad."

"Yes."

It dawned on Wyveryn that for the first time in his half-elven life, he'd been insulted by a book.

"I've half a mind to tear your pages out."

"Watch it, wise guy."

"If you're so knowledgable, tell me what I'm to ask you."

"Well, if I knew everything I would be omnipotent, wouldn't I?"

Wyveryn groaned in frustration. He was tired of games. "I don't know what to ask you."

"Go ahead, ask me something, be it fifty things or one thing."

"Am I an idiot for talking to a book?"

"Yes."

"I hate you."

****

One by one, each member of the company was summoned to the library. Aeroth, Tik, and Jewelynna, who'd been trying desperately to comfort the hungry baby in The Elf King Inn, suddenly heard the call and began making their way back through the crowded city streets.

Marco, however, reached it first. He climbed the library steps and found his way inside. It did not take long to notice Wyveryn, staring at a small brown leather-bound book, seemingly talking to himself. Suspicion entered his heart, and he silently slipped into the next aisle, listening to the conversation.

The voice on the other end was one he knew well. Tiny, almost feminine, like the squeak of a mouse. Marco knew instantly what Wyveryn had found.

"Who owns you?" Asked the half-elf.

"My owner is Horatio
Who he is, you'll never know!
Where he is's essential though
To finding where you're supposed to go!"

"Who's Horatio?" Asked Wyveryn.


****


Upon hearing the name, Marco stepped around the corner to reveal himself. This had gone on long enough.

"Wyveryn."

The half-elf desperately tired to hide the book, but it was much too vocal.

"Hello? Helloooo?"

"What are you hiding behind your back, Wyveryn?"

"Nothing."

"I am the book of--"

"Shutup!"

"Sometimes, it's like talking to rocks," muttered the grumpy book. "ROCKS."

"Wyveryn."

"What?"

The look Marco gave was one of the exasperated father scolding the disobedient child. Embarrassed, Wyveryn revealed what he'd been hiding behind his back. The book, quite pleased with itself, launched back into its speech about Horatio.

"Who is this Horatio, anyway?"

"His is not someone you would know, but he is very important. Tell me where you found this."

"Just right here."

"Right here in the library? On this shelf?"

"Do I look like an idiot, Marco?"

"Yes." Came the book's quick reply.

****

The expressions on Aeroth, Jewelynna, and Tik's faces were strained, as the weeping baby refused to be consoled. Songs, poetry, stories... none of it seemed to work. It was apparent the baby was huntry, but what did a fae child eat?



The crowds in the streets were not as heavy as before. Most of those who had tickets to the Event were already at the Ampitheatre by the castle grounds. Aeroth was at least certain that no one would recognize him. He looked nothing like his old self. His long hair was chopped short, howeing off his pointed ears and making him appear younger. He felt a bit lost without his Liberist armor, but the new tunic, breeches and boots that he'd bought in the Tradesdale market were comfortable, and the cloak that the magician had purchased in Legend's Hollow was comforting, though his feelings about the magician were not yet sorted.

As if on cue, Marco stopped out of the library door, Wyveryn in tow. The dark half-elf feverishly clutched a small brown leather-bound book to his chest. Aeroth had to roll his eyes, for his two companions stuck out like sore thumbs.

"Marco. Wyveryn."

"Afternoon, Aeroth. No doubt you had a sense to come here, too."

"Aye. You as well?"

"Of course. Nothing's too strange these days."

The baby wailed louder and louder, but as Wyveryn drew closer, it seemed to hush. Puzzled, Aeroth stared back and forth between the baby and the dark half-elf.

"It seems to want you."

"Me?! I--"

But before Wyveryn could protest, Marco snatched the book away and the baby was in his arms. At long last, its crying ceased, and it started to coo merrily. But a bead a sweat broke out on the half-elf's forehead.

"What am I supposed to do with this??!"

"Hold her."

And as he did, Wyveryn could not deny the sense of peacefulness that he felt. It was as if someone had covered him with a warm blanket. The tiny child grasped his fingertip in the palm of her hand and began to suck. It horrified him.

But Aeroth's attention was on the book. "What is that you have there?"

And the book replied.

"I am the Book of Everything... well, almost.
I know the things of downright truth, and upmost.
Inside my pages are the things of which I boast.
Just don't forget I know it all... well.... almost."

Aeroth took the book from Marco. "Who are you?"

"My owner is Horatio.
Who he is, you'll never know.
Where he is is essential, though
To finding where you're supposed to go?"

"Who is Horatio?" Asked Aeroth, marveling over the talking book.

"That is a very long story." Marco sighed. "But I will say this: I believe that Hiroko is being held against his will, but is being made a martyr. I believe that the cardinal is setting this city up for a full assault. I believe that we are in grave danger and need to leave this city now.”

"Yes." Said the book.

"Yes?" The men asked in unison.

"Yes."

"Is Hiroko alive?" Asked Aeroth.

"I don't know."

And soon the questions came pouring forth.

"Did your owner send us to find you?"

"Yes."

"Is your owner here in Tradesdale?"

"No."

"Are we supposed to find your owner?"

"Yes."

"Lareth," interjected the magician, "May I humbly suggest we take this conversation elsewhere? Perhaps... to a more private location?"

It was true. They were receiving stares from the onlookers in the street. Those who were heading to the Event made a wary wide circle around the group at the base of the library stairs. Indeed, it would be best to reconvene in a more private place.

The sun was setting overhead. And from the cry of the crowd, the Event was getting underway. Once more, the party separated, this time to find their way into the Ampitheatre. Though Tik and Jewelynna were unable to find access to tickets, they were able to climb her old house and look out over the city's landscape. Wyveryn, who'd given the baby back to the woman, had slipped into the shadows once more. While Marco and Aurora found their own rooftop to sit upon.

The Ampitheatre was visible from the rooftops. As the orange sun dipped into the purple sky, Marco could see the thousands of people who had gathered at the event. He could hear their thundering applause and feel the pounding of their feet like an earthquake. He could even see the red robes of Cardinal Okra, who stood upon the stage and raised his arms to the sky as if he were some kind of divine god himself. A moment's fear ran through the magician's mind. What would Okra do if he knew Aeroth were still alive?

Jewelynna gasped beside him and touched his shoulder. She pointed to the forest beyond the city gates. Shadows began to touch the trees, but like they did on the road to Tradesdale, they moved in an unnatural way. And now, they were cascading over the city walls. Marco swiveled around, taking his attention from the Ampitheatre to the outskirts of Tradesdale. Hundreds of shadows poured over the gates, atop the walls, silent as the whisper of the wind. And just about every living soul was sitting in the Ampitheatre. The city would be taken unaware.

"Tyr help us all." Marco whispered under his breath.