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From: [e-mail] (Skirmish the Hack)
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Subject: STORY: Zeffrin Chronicles
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Date: 17 Mar 1994 13:35:08 -0500
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    The original script is on Microsoft Word for Windows 6.0 so I don't
know exactly how well the transfer went.
    This campaign has taken place in our own world that we have created
that is connected to the Greyhawk realms from the northern coast via the
sea.  There is enough background information that the reader, hopefully,
will not feel overwhelmed or lost.


------------------------------Cut Here------------------------------------


This is the journal for the second part to the Vigris Ploy.  In this
campaign, the players will go through the module "Scourge of the
Slave Lords."  The player characters will start out in the area known
as Gurak Xar.
Because of the release of the magical field prohibiting travel in and
out of the known realm, the war between Set and Axatchel, the
Nayaran god, slavery in many regions has become common as some
currencies have devalued as precious metals have become a rare
commodity.  In many regions, the strength of a person results
directly from the number of people he has working for him. In the
lands across the water, slavery is a major form of control and
government.  The areas composing the former religarchy Inem'Ohk
have become lands ruled by religion and slavery by the temple
priests.  Working in conjunction with the Slade Reefs with the
human Stalman Klim from the capital of Borque, the people have a
slave route that sends people from the far territories and islands
down through the great inner lake and its adjoining river outlets.
Emptying into a minor sea with many outlets, the Slade Reefs
represent the major block on which slaves are bought and sold.
Borque has become a major trading town with many guilds arising to
power -- though that is not to say that the wizards have lost their
power at all.
The setup for this campaign is that the player characters shall begin
the campaign in a dungeon of one of the slave lords in the town of
Zeffrin.  This is a small farming community about thirty miles to the
south of Trydin, the governmental capital, and about 100 miles to
the northeast of Larn, the religious capital of Gurak Xar.  The plan is
for them to escape.
The scene shall be repeated until the players do escape.  The
characters that do escape will be notified within two weeks of a
woman who has heard of their deeds.  She will invite them to her
town so that she can meet them as she has a job for them to do.
This shows us the entrance into the campaign:
The Scourge of the Slave Lords.



INTRODUCTION    I
PART I    1
CHAPTER ONE    1
Kurn's Yarn    8
Lorin's Lore    9
Dragonfist's Story    13
Uok    17
Master of the Hunt    17
Tarelas's Time    19
CHAPTER TWO    23
The Tale of Vosta    24
Gurak Xar    28
PART II    51
CHAPTER 3    51






Part I
Chapter I

Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand out like stone;
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in our own.
                            - Adam L. Gordon

Be warned, a lost and scared animal is the most dangerous.
                            - Farlarhgn of Belth



    They were in a room forty feet by forty feet replete with the rancor
of death and rotten flesh.  It had not been cleaned for many cycles having
been the major hold in which new prisoners were held.  The exit to the
room was dilapidated iron door with a small port hole six inches by six
inches through which the guards would peer in to determine the condition
of the prisoners.  The feces of the prisoners were not removed; thus,
disease and pestilence were rampant among the prisoners causing a
cumulative chance per day that any given prisoner would contract a disease
present in the room.  The prisoners were given a meal daily to give them
minimal nourishment.  Water had been provided by means of a drop hole
in the roof of the jail chamber.  All the prisoners were chained at all times.
Every other day, the prisoners were chained together and moved out of
the cell and into another chamber the size being one hundred feet by one
hundred feet for the purpose of keeping their muscles from atrophying.
This exercise lasted for two hours at which time the prisoners were
returned to their cells.
    It had been during the time between the cells and the exercise
chamber that the prisoners had the greatest chance of success.  Only the
most cunning and wily of people would have ever escaped.
    Coming through a crack in the ceiling, the morning sun lightened the
darkness of the room, but not the spirit of the inhabitants.  In the room,
the human stirred from his restless sleep.  Looking around warily from his
forced slumber, Dragonfist took great notice of his alien and presumably
hostile environments.
    Dragonfist tried to escape his bondage using techniques learned by
the ancients. In his weakened state, Dragonfist was not able to succeed.
Tarelas heckled one of the guards trying in vain to get him to let him go.
Tarelas was a savage elf chained up against his will.   He had simply been
traveling through the woods when he was ambushed and taken hostage.
Awakening in this chamber, Tarelas decided that a direct course of action
was required.  Utilizing his strength, summoning the wild spirit within,
Tarelas tries to rip his bondage but did not succeed.  Kurn the half-elf and
Dragonfist tried to create crude bone tools from the corpses in the room.
The bone tools broke when they were applied to the lock mechanisms of
the chain links.  The female half-elf, Lorin, and the savage elf worked
together to free themselves and everyone else.  Grim, a half-elf, and Kurn,
by simple positioning, were the two prisoners closest to the entrance.
When the guards came to exercise the prisoners, one guard entered
chaining the prisoners, by foot, together and releasing them to go to the
exercise chamber. Tarelas tried to comfort Vander the Firbolg Giant-kin
who was scared at this point because of the large proportion of people
here.  Vander told to Tarelas that he would try to do what he can by
overcoming his fear.  A brief plan was set in motion. Dragonfist would
cling to the wall and pounce upon the guard who came in the room. Kurn
and Grim would rush forward taking on the two people outside the cell
room. As the iron door began to open, Dragonfist fell from the wall
landing on his stomach with a loud thud to warn the guard outside
oblivious to the dastardly escape plan in progress.  Isolation while not
being fed and not given water for two days was the punishment that the
prisoners received.  The Firbolg received an injury to the torso to prove to
the prisoners that insurgency was not tolerated at the Zeffrin Slave Pens.
Twenty-five feet above the prisoners lay the key to their escape.  The
portal which gave the prisoners their food would also provide the prisoners
with their escape surmised Tarelas.  Kurn remained secluded during these
days becoming more and more a recluse among the prisoners.  Retiring to
himself more often, and disregarding meal times, Kurn's actions had Grim
believing that Kurn may have gone mad or contracted some disease.
    The next round of guards was not made aware of the attempted
escape giving the future slaves a ray of hope.  Rimshot (G-Rim) felt that
they should wait for another day until they began to act on another escape
plan.  Rimshot went on to say that he thought that their best course of
action would be to imitate the best behavior possible in order to win the
guards' confidence and trust.  Everyone agreed with this sound plan.  The
same plan would be used tomorrow they decided; however, with slight
modifications.  Kurn and Rimshot would bolt against the door swinging it
violently into the first guard while Tarelas, Dragonfist, Lorin, and Vander
(Brock) would bolt forth into the dank hallway with the attack being their
martial arts and street-fighting ability.  These people were prepared for any
situation they told themselves more than once.  They could defend
themselves in any situation, of this they were confident.
    The next day began as all the others had.  The only difference today
was that the air of hope and the smell of battle filled the spirits of the gulag
visitors -- today would be a good day.  The plan worked well.  Initially,
because they were unsure of themselves and what exactly they were about
to do, the skirmish did not fare to well. The Firbolg, however, took the
brunt of damage while punishing the guards with his own brand of
vindication.  The muscles of the Firbolg shook the very foundation of the
gulag rippling and shuddering with every calculated thunderous movement
and strike.  Each blow diminished the threat of these punitive guards sent
against him. Vander began to feel comfortable among these people, for he
had known them now for quite a good length of time.  His fear eroded into
a steel case of anger and rage. Vander would no longer put up with being
kept as a caged animal like the elephants they had at home.  The rapiers
tried valiantly to accomplish the deeds of their wielders but the agility of
these cooped animals was surprisingly lightning quick.  The escapees heard
an alarm begin ringing in the distance as the sounds of battle echoed in the
halls.  They would have to act faster.  Tarelas began to draw upon a well of
strength he had not summoned from before today.  He swung wildly with
his fists landing a vicious uppercut knocking one of the two guards off-
balance.  Vander took his cue and crushed the skull of the staggering
guard.  They took the shields and weapons of the guards leaving everything
else behind.  Rimshot and Kurn had handled the one guard inside the
chamber and now had caught up with the rest of the group. Heading
quickly down the first passage they came to, they stopped cold in their
tracks as a large dog-like beast looked up in surprise at them.  Lorin was
familiar with this type of creature, a Thycaline.  Moving slowly so as not to
alarm it any more than it was, Lorin began to edge her way slowly towards
the dog.  She cleared her throat and began to sing in a soft tone.  The
thyclaine's eyes met with Lorin's; they locked; Lorin began to weave her
magic.  After nearly half a minute, the thyclaine came to Lorin showing
signs of friendship.  Much to the relief of everyone, it seemed as if Lorin
had the ability to make animals like her.
    "Looks like we have a guard dog now," chuckled Rimshot looking
over his back to make sure they were still out of harms way, "Come on let's
move before they learn where we are."
     "Vander and I will take the lead.  Lorin, you and the dog take the
middle ranks for flanking.  Rimshot, Kurn, Dragonfist:  you guys take back
and make sure we don't get jumped.  Let's go!"  Tarelas shouted these
orders with sound authority and everyone obeyed without dissent.
    They headed out of the dog's chamber and up a hallway spilling into
a four-way intersection.  All four ways were clear save the snarls of
unhappy guards moving in formation from the left passage to their
location.  Scanning for anything that could provide cover, there were two
doors just further ahead.  They scrambled for these doors to see if they
could find shelter.  Their confidence which had grown during the battle
was now beginning to erode.  Thoughts of being flogged, or even killed,
began to enter their head as time progressed.  They began to wonder if
what they did was the best possible thing.  Doubt rose from the ashes of
the pillar of determination.  The second door was locked; however, the
first door yielded a bunk room.  Eight cots were situated in military
fashion, a night table for each cot and nothing more.  A table was in the
middle of the room.  Presumably, this was where they would eat their
meals and play their games.  Tarelas surveyed the room once more
determining their position and surmising their situation.  Glancing at the
table, he called Vander to come here.
    Vander said in a cynical tone, "What are you thinking of doing?"
    With a flip of his hand and a condescending look, Tarelas relayed his
idea, "Let's you and I take the table on its side.  Let's go in the hallway and
put it on its side, the long-ways.  Then we can run down the hall crushing
those guards who would be in our path.  Brilliant idea, huh?"
    Kurn overheard this chat and began laughing right in Tarelas's
direction.  Kurn said, "That has to be one of the most fucked things I have
ever heard."
     Rimshot gave his two pennies worth adding, "I'd rather do a fucked
idea than your idea of just sitting here.  Oh, what a great idea, Kurn of the
Wisemen.  Let's sit here and wait for them to come and get us.  Wait in a
room.  They'll come and get us.  'Oh, please Mr. Guard, don't stab me to
death because I snuffed your buddy.' That's what you'd say.  Then you'd
be dead.  Mr. Sword would run you through.  Go back in your corner and
be a recluse.  You're better that way."  Rimshot turned to Tarelas offering
support saying, "We're ready to act.  You and Vander lead the way."
     The scuffling of feet became more apparent as the prisoners sat in
this room and argued about a plan of action.  Waiting no longer for
approval as the instinct of survival kicked in, Vander and Tarelas took the
table and put their plan into action. The door, kicked open, blew into the
wall across the hall.  Startling some of the guards, this gave Vander and
Tarelas just enough time to get into the hallway. Turning to their left, they
began running down the hall with the table, four and a half feet wide and
eight feet long, intent on running over the guards.  Everyone else followed
behind.  As the bodies slipped under the table, the blades of death pierced
and killed the guards as the prisoners trampled over them in seething
anger and blood-cold resolve.
     The passage was filling with the spilling blood of the guards.  Fear
began to permeate all that was around them.  The prisoners began to fear
because they had not yet escaped, while the guards began to fear because
they had not yet captured the convicts.

     Traveling fifty feet down the left corridor, they came to a t-
intersection.  In front of them, they heard the sound of feet thudding on
stairs.  But the sounds of these feet were coming from another level lower
than the one they were on right now. Glancing to the right, Uok (Rimshot)
saw a door swinging open and closed.  Uok motioned to everyone that that
door may be the way out.  Moving quickly and in formation, they reached
the door and held it open.  They could see stairs leading upward and into a
field with some other buildings in the distance.  Everyone was overjoyed
that they had found the way out.  As the sun shone down on them for the
first time in some weeks, guards from the lower level spotted them and
began to give chase.
    As the prison guards plotted their way to the prisoners, Tarelas
mentioned that in every day a little rain must fall.  Kurn told Tarelas to
stop with the pansy poetry. The old and shoddy stairs almost broke as the
Firbolg Vander ran up.  Vander took the rear rank to himself because he
told the rest of the prisoners that he felt he could take a hit better than
anyone among them.  No one was about to disagree with Vander if he were
willing to take the rear.  As the prisoners reached the top of the stairs and
made their way into the outside, the prison guards gave no chase.  In the
town of Zeffrin, as with all other towns in the Gurak Xar, the condition
existed that no slaving could occur with the areas of a town or city.
Although the escapees did not know this, the prison guards did.  As the
escapees would later learn, there was not a mark to define who was a slave,
but there was, instead, a mark signifying who was not a slave.  The
escapees began to slow down and catch their breath.  They looked around
noticing that no one was coming after them.  The field they were in was
filled with daisies and small bushes.  The grass was about five or six inches
high -- Tarelas noted the heavy traffic in this area just in case in might
come in handy one day.  About fifty yards to the left, they saw a stable and
a pen where the horses were allowed to roam and eat. Connected to the
stable was a farmhouse and animal pens for chickens, pigs, and goats.
Cows roamed the area around the farmhouse in decent numbers.  Tarelas
picked out where the cows grazed because of the stunted growth of the
grass.  Kurn also was sketching a mental note of the area in the other
direction.  About seventy-five yards to the right, the outskirts of a
conglomeration of buildings and businesses sprung up.  From the looks of
the town, Kurn estimated that there might be around one thousand people
in the town.  There were no traces of smoke from any particular building
that Kurn then interpreted to mean either that there were no weapon
smiths in this town or that the weapon smithy was not working at this time.
    With a small burst, Dragonfist said, "Uh, fellas, I don't think we're
gonna get very far without any fucking clothes on."
    Uok, Kurn, Vander, Dragonfist, Tarelas, and Lorin all looked at
themselves in agreement -- some looking at Lorin just a little bit longer.
Though she was a woman, Lorin could hold her own against any of these
miscreants.  Lorin asked Tarelas how much money was in the one bag they
took from the bed chamber.  Everyone gathered together while the money
was counted out.  The money was divvied up equally with the share being
16s36c Entwined Purple Worm.  Tarelas, Lorin, Uok and Vander each
took one gold Entwined Purple Worm as the group decided that would be
most fair.  Although they were unclothed, save for their loin cloths, Tarelas
had picked up a long sword in the prison; Kurn had picked up a short
sword made of superior quality and a medium shield; Dragonfist looted a
katana and a medium shield; Lorin wielded a rapier.  The group walked to
the main dirt road and began looking for lodging in this town.  Tarelas told
everyone that he would prefer to sleep outside, but he would remain
within the outskirts of town so that he could not be picked up by the local
thugs.  Vander would have preferred to stay in the covered hostel but his
great height, a hair under ten feet, did not bode well with the lodging's
owners when he appeared.  The owners also had a hint of fear on their
face when they told Vander that they could not accommodate such a fine
person as he.  So Vander and Tarelas decided to stick together and rough
the woodland and brush while the other four bought a room at the Rose
Petal Inn for 8c Entwined Purple Worm per night.
    Everyone hauled all their belongings, since there were so many, and
brought them to their room.  For four silver pieces each, they were given
some brown robes that could couple as a cloak when the group purchased
more clothes.  In the front room of the Rose Petal Inn, there were five
round tables situated in a haphazard fashion.  No fire was present tonight
as summer began to strengthen its hold on the land.  The evening was
warm and slightly uncomfortable.  Three windows adorned all three walls.
A small passage on the back wall to the left of the bar led the people to the
back rooms where the quarters were.  A round of ale was ordered by Kurn
for everyone along with whatever food the place had.  Juhn, the owner,
came over to the table where they were seated.
    "Ya know, fellas, we normally don't have nary a problem here.  I just
wanted you fellas to know that."  Juhn looked around to see who was in the
front room.  Juhn was by no means a pretty man, nor was he a tiny man.
While not overtly powerful, Uok thought that this Juhn character could
probably hold his own in a tight situation. Perhaps Juhn would like to
accompany me on my journeys from this town when I leave, thought Uok.
    Uok scanned the room as well to see who was here.  He did, of
course, see Juhn.  Juhn was about five feet ten inches.  He was slightly
balding with a robust salt and pepper beard.  His nickname, given to him
by his wife, was wolverine.  His shoulders were wide and his arms like
bars of iron.  Many passings of working with the farm animals and dealings
with the ruffians in the bar when a few too many drinks were poured had
caused Juhn to become somewhat skilled at fighting with his hands and
fists.  Juhn did not have a particularly large torso but some half-hidden
scars showed that he had seen some battle before... and lived.  His eyes
were lively and brown.  They danced as a person would dance when
entertaining.  Uok thought that Juhn's disposition was fair to medium.
Uok was still slightly dismayed at the way Juhn had come up to them and
started talking.
    Continuing to scan the room, he next saw Kurn.  Kurn was a half-elf
who was about five feet six inches tall.  His fine brown hair ended at about
the shoulder.  Kurn vowed, after they had escaped the prison, that he
would try to remain as clean as possible because he hated being dirty.  His
face was gaunt after having spent so much time in prison.  No hair covered
his face or his cheeks.  A fair complexion was there with a slight pink color.
It was Uok's hypothesis that Kurn had contracted some type of disease
while they were prisoners.  Uok had spent some time at his father's house
learning about medicine, herbalism, and sicknesses in his earlier passings.
The shoulders were slim ending in lengthy and lanky arms.  Kurn was not
someone who was strong.  His torso was narrow seemingly able to bend
and fit into places only children could.  Perhaps this was something that
helped Kurn to choose his work in life.  Kurn was a dabbler of the magical
arts called transmuting, and was a scout.  He had grown up on a farm in a
small farming community whose local priest was also a dabbler in the
magical arts. The priest, somewhat of an outcast, found solace and
friendship with Kurn.  The two would often go into the woods for hours
practicing trailing animals... sometimes even people.  All this hunting and
tracking strengthened Kurn's legs and fostered great dexterity in Kurn.
Kurn was able to react instantly to anything in his surroundings.

"We were sitting in a circle by the grandstands at the end of the track -- it was just after the tractor pull so
everyone had calmed down a bit."
        - Matt Gerkin talking about being at home

    Lorin was seated on the opposite side of the table.  She was seated so
that she could see if anyone from the prison came into the tavern looking
for them.  Lorin remained alert and distracted participating little in the
friendly conversation struck up between Uok and Juhn.  Although she
seemed hardened from her many passings in the field, Lorin still had many
radiating features.  She was average in height, about five feet seven inches
tall.  The fine brown hair cut short in the back while kept long on top
complemented her smooth face.  A pronounced jawbone and featured
cheekbones brought attention to her.  Her earthen brown eyes were
inviting and playful with a hint of mischeviousness behind them.  The
small frame that she had fit nearly perfectly with all of her highlights.  A
slender nose stopped just before the thin parted lips shone on her face.
Loose clothing covered her body.  No scars revealed the adventures that
Lorin had encountered many times before traveling from town to town
with Monk Ferth seeking locales where the two would indulge the locals
with the playing of their flute and lute.  Often were the nights when the
patrons would become too free with their hands as they placed their
coppers and silvers into the cup that Lorin, herself, brought around after
many of their performances.  Monk Ferth preferred to plunder them with
his hands, but this style of fighting was too erratic for Lorin.  The art of
wielding the rapier was quickly learned by Lorin.  And it was quickly put to
use.  Lorin did not have an overly developed upper body; however, her
womanhood did not go unnoticed by many men.  The slender waist
transformed into finely sculpted legs that did raise many an eyebrow of a
slightly drunk patron.  Monk Ferth usually turned his head as Lorin teased
the crowd of men.  Ferth usually only heard the jingle of brass and copper
in the cup -- after all, they did have to make a living somehow.
    As they traveled more and more through the forest on foot, Lorin
became interested and respectful of nature.  Lorin began to devote much
of her time to studying and learning anything she could that could apply to
altering the nature of beings of the forest.  She also became an avid fan of
learning the art of making friends from foes in the forest.  Oftentimes, she
would sit and listen to the singing of the birds and the language of the
forest creatures.  The first time Lorin stepped into a bad situation was
about two passings ago.  Feeling confident one day, she left camp one
morning to go in search of berries for breakfast.  She and Monk Ferth had
been traveling in the lands around the northern branch of the Mek
(Mekandishar) near the Grolleg city of Adqus.  The seasons were changing
from late winter to early spring and all the forest creatures were slowly
waking from their winter hibernation.  The forests of Grolleg were thick
and luscious -- teeming with life.  In all its savagery, Lorin had never met
up with an animal who thought of her as its next meal.  The Huljperion
Woods, she knew from her readings and teachings from Monk Ferth, were
filled with many rare and dangerous creatures of the night.  She looked at
the creature before her.  This creature had an opaque fur coat, black in
color, absorbing any light that came upon it.  Lorin thought, perhaps, that
this was why it had gone undetected until it was upon her.  She began to
think of all the creatures that Ferth had told her about.  The close
attention she gave her instructor during those times was beginning to pay
off and she was glad she for it.  Slowly, the creature took tiny steps toward
Lorin.  Her heart began to beat faster; her pulse quickened; her legs began
to wobble under the stress she was now feeling.
    A Thycaline! she thought to herself.  Ferth has told me about these
creatures a few times.  I think he recalled that they were akin to slow
melodic music.  Maybe all those lessons will get me out of this.  Ferth... I
promise I will never go out alone in the woods again.
    Lorin put forth her best effort.  She began to sing in a soft melodic
voice.  Her body began to relax as the creature stopped in its tracks.  Lorin
lowered her voice and let out a great sigh.  Barely beginning to turn away,
the Thycaline pounced from its position about twelve feet away.  Lorin let
out a painful scream as the claws tore into her flesh.  The hunger of the
Thycaline was overpowering her.
    Meanwhile, Monk Ferth had awakened at the rustling of Lorin in her
bedroll.  Ferth had decided that he would track her to see how she would
fare.  Acting upon instinct seeing Lorin, whom he referred to as his
daughter, Ferth used his magic and put to sleep the large dog.  He tended
to her wounds to stop any further blood loss.  Lorin was hurt badly.  There
were several gashes from the claws on her left side.  Ferth wept because he
knew that these wounds would never completely heal in time.  Yet, he
knew that she would learn never to do this again -- at least until she could
handle herself.  He was glad this happened because Lorin learned a
valuable lesson that he could never have supplemented.
    Better that it occur now, when I can heal her and protect her than
when I am hundreds of miles away and helpless to save her, Ferth
conceded to himself.
    It took almost two cycles for Lorin to completely heal and regain her
confidence.  When she returned to Ferth's room at the monastery, Ferth
told her that he would begin to teach her in his arts.  Lorin was not
satisfied, for she knew that there was more.  She knew that she could do
more.  Ferth was not surprised.  He always knew that Lorin had greater
ambitions than the Church would allow.  This did not delay him from
sending a note to his friend, Mnurmak.  Mnurmak was a half-elf like Lorin.
She was a minstrel who had a liking for nature and animals.  Mnurmak
belonged to a group of people who called themselves Meistersingers.
Ferth felt that this was the calling that Lorin desired.  Many passings
passed before Ferth heard from Lorin again.
    Lorin and Mnurmak went into seclusion while Lorin began to train
in the arts that she wanted so badly to master.  Another side pulled at her
however.  When Mnurmak used her magic, Lorin found that only certain
types of spells, and their effects, interested her.  The school of
Transmuting became another obsession of hers.  From Mnurmak, Lorin
learned of Gthylomy the Transmuter who lived in Vek.  Mnurmak and
Lorin traveled together as female sisters to Vek where Gthylomy was
introduced to Lorin by Mnurmak.  Lorin trained under Gthylomy's
tutelage.  The Three Sisters they were called by the locals.  They would
often go in seek of adventure and money.  Sometimes they would be
content to put on shows of magic and music with the help of their nature
friends.
    One morning, Lorin awoke to the sounds of battle raging outside.
She tried to get up and get her gear to help out.  There was a throbbing
pain in the back of her head.  She caught a glimpse of Mnurmak and
Gthylomy heading out the front door when Mnurmak glanced back saying,
"Lorin, dear, we don't want you to die.  Hide in the secret compartment."
    Lorin was in no condition to refuse.  She removed the floor trap and
slid below the house.  She fell back into unconsciousness and awoke some
hours later.  She crawled out of the cubby hole barely aware of her
surroundings.  Everything was colored in a shade of red.  At first, she
thought this was because of the pain she was feeling from her head, but
she looked closer.  Blood was everywhere.  Screams of elder folk being
torn from their small children filled the air.  Lorin's house had already
been sacked.  The sackers had not found her, she assumed, because she
was still here... still breathing.  Running outside, barely clothed, ready for
battle, all Lorin saw was a conflagration -- fire where a once happy village
stood.  Without hesitation, she sprinted to the docks on the shore where
the townsfolk may have gone.  A large galleon filled with screaming people
being subdued by the lash of several bullwhips sailing south on the horizon
was all that was left near the docks.  Before pain and loss overcame her,
Lorin forever engrained the sight of the purple sail that this boat flew.
Scanning more closely her surroundings, she found almost immediately the
dead bodies of her friends Mnurmak and Gthylomy.  Heaped on the top of
them were bodies with strange blue and orange fish tattoos.  Lorin would
forever remember this tattoo for these people killed her friends... her
family.
    Dragonfist sat detached from the table.  Uok thought that Dragonfist
may have been going through all the events of the past few weeks, perhaps
still in shock that they actually escaped and survived.  Uok himself could
not believe that they had actually followed through with the plans.  While
he himself was not an avid fighter, Uok realized that some direct action
was required.  He thought that Dragonfist proved to be a worthy partner
in the prison.  Maybe Dragonfist would prove to be a successful traveling
companion as well.
    Dragonfist was extremely fit.  He had spent many passings in the
training guild at his home.  Vek was his home.  Cold in nature, Vek
produced and bred many harsh peoples and rituals over the course of
centuries.  The reign of Ares did nothing to weaken this fact either.  For
many centuries, the ruling monks and priests of the Inem'Ohk left the
people on the northern island to simply waste away.  Rare were the cycles
when his village would receive supplies from the mainland.  The people
were not smart enough, nor did they have the proper equipment and tools
to repair their aging and decrepit fleet of boats.  What meager supplies
they did have were spent on repairing their housing in hopes of surviving
another cold and harsh winter.  The only way to escape this travesty of
humanity was to pledge oneself to the church and its doings.   The other
way was to rebel.
    Dragonfist had a sleek body overall.  Never varying much in width
and depth, his slightly larger than normal height gave him an advantage in
several situations.  His reactions were as quick as the ripples of the pond to
a change in the winds.  In his home town of Bj, the other children used to
call him the wyvern.  At an early age, Dragonfist exhibited signs of superior
strength and discipline.  But, like the wyvern, Dragonfist was also reclusive
and sharp witted.  Lightning quick remarks and swift attacks when the
children used to stick fight after school were what he was renowned for.
While his body rippled when he moved, rare was the person who would
have perceived Dragonfist a strong or able man, for he looked more like
the local stable boy or local town pooper.  Long thick black hair covered
his skull and face.  The shoulders were narrow and agile.  His bony limbs
only led to wicked punishment for those who tried to "bestow their
holiness" upon him.  Destructive would exemplify the childhood
Dragonfist led.  The dark, vacant, black eyes filling the sunken sockets
beneath the ridged brow almost gave Dragonfist the appearance of the
dreaded Annis Drone common in his region from the deadly Nercomicon
(Necromancer) Guilds.  No facial hair was on his face to soften his harsh
and driven look.  His looks alone were enough to be considered a freak, be
ostracized from the community; however, his personality clinched it for
Dragonfist.  His wiry, razor sharp sarcasm and personality deviating little
from the upholding of family honor gave way to no other constant in any
other aspect of life.  If the situation did not have a consequence to his
family, Dragonfist followed no rules.
    Dragonfist was raised in the belief that honor was of the utmost
importance.  To honor the system and its ways, to honor the rituals of the
elders, to honor oneself and the family:  these were the values upon which
Dragonfist was raised.  His family was small having only Dragonfist (his
real name was Liu Kang) and a younger brother named Chang.  Liu and
Chang were by no means good friends.  Many times, Xe Tian, their
mother, would have to scold and reprimand them for fighting at school and
causing disturbances in the local town square.  Dragonfist was forever
trying to be the best and succeed at all costs so long as his actions did not
adversely effect his family honor.  If there was one weakness in Liu Kang,
it was that he did not respect his brother.  Aec-Frin Hui, the father of the
two boys,  tried repeatedly to get Liu to recognize that by not accepting his
brother, he dishonored his family.  But Liu could not subject himself to
this truth.  In hard facts, seen with his own eyes, he saw Chang deal with
some dishonorable townsfolk.  When Liu accosted Chang about the
incident, Chang did not acknowledge that he knew about whom Liu was
talking.
    "What do you mean, dear brother, that you do not know who I am
talking about?" questioned Liu Kang, "I saw you talking with the ruffians
myself.  What were you doing?  Paying them off to hurt someone for you!
That's what it was I bet.  You would not stand up for yourself!  You
weakling!  You dishonor this family!"
    Liu struck out at Chang without a second passing from the thought
to the hit.  Chang was smaller than Liu.  Chang was about five feet two
inches tall, whereas Liu Kang was about five feet eleven inches tall.  The
intense powerful kick struck Chang in his chest.  Although Liu was
eighteen at the time, Chang was only thirteen.  Chang had not yet been
able to experience his adolescence.  His bones had not yet developed.  Liu
heard the sternum crack and break under his strength.  Fear began to
pervade Liu's thoughts.  Nearby, a small oak sapling was growing
cheerfully extending its branches towards the life giving sunlight.  An evil
thought began to form itself in the recesses of Liu's mind.  Before he knew
what happened, Liu had broken the sapling and made the scene to appear
as if Chang had been struck by a falling tree.  A few good bludgeons to the
chest bruised and broke the skin on Chang's chest.  Liu was mad with
frenzy now.  Nothing processed clearly.  Thoughts were tangential,
processes and movements were sporadic and erratic.  Finally, Liu Kang let
out a ravishing scream of pain and agony combined from the pain of killing
his brother and realizing the lie he would have to live.  Liu Kang had
disgraced his family but only he would ever know.  In the distance, a lark
began to sing its song in flight.
    An omen from the gods, thought Liu.  I shall forever seek to redeem
my honor and creed in the wilderness fighting and destroying everything
in hopes of one day achieving this dream.
    Chang's body fell from Dragonfist's tired arms on the ground in front
of their dilapidated hovel.  Xe Tian came running out screaming at the site
of her felled youngest son.  The mother and the youngest brother had
been extremely close -- even more so as Dragonfist's behavior had
changed.  Aec-Frin Hui returned from the field where the failing and
sickly crops grew.  Dragonfist offered no explanation.  The work he had
done on his brother's body was exact and precise, for the first words his
mother issued were, "My dear poor Chang!  How could nature have done
this too you?  Did not your brother try to stop it from happening?"
    A wicked and sneering glance came from Xe Tian's face.  Dragonfist
pulled off his jerkin revealing the same type of damage to a lesser degree.
This surprised even himself for he had no recollection of doing this.  Some
fresh blood, mixing with the dried blood and bark and leaves, dribbled
down his left side dripping into a small puddle on the leaf strewn dirt.
    "My dear Liu!  You too are hurt!  Quickly, come inside!  I do not
want to lose two sons today," raved Xe Tian.
    Dragonfist obeyed without dissent or a second of thought.  Looking
back, Dragonfist realized that he was unconscious, detached from the
situation hearing nothing and following anything said to him.  The father
during this time had remained calm and reserved.  Aec-Frin Hui
recognized that it was common for every family to lose at least one child
during the course of a lifetime.  Frin Hui returned inside the house
pouring himself another cup of tea... for him, life had not changed too
much, the parameters of living had simply shifted.
    After this incident, Liu Kang would only respond to the name
Wyvern.  His anger never quenched and his guilt never reconciled,
Dragonfist would live out his many following passings in despair and
psychological turmoil.  The townsfolk also noticed that, after the incident
in the woods, Dragonfist forever wore the mark on his chest resembling a
deep gouge by the talon of an age old dragon.
    The locals say that a wyvern living in the frost cliffs some hundred
leagues to the north learned of this young child who took his name from
him.  This wyvern, named Zodec'kai, had to have this child for his student.
He swept Dragonfist in his claws one night.  Zodec'kai and Dragonfist
became friends as Zodec'kai taught to Dragonfist the secrets of death and
stealth.  Dragonfist was revealed the potency of the combination of these
two when the proper mixtures are done and the right person acts upon
them.  Then, one night, some cycle after Dragonfist had gone north, a
dragon came down upon the town and flamed the town with menace and
vengeance.  In the center of the chest of this old red dragon was a mark
like that of where a tree may have hit it, or where the talons of another
ancient dragon had gouged it.  The local people feared this was the
retaliation of Liu Kang for the treatment he had received -- like a fist
delivering its punishment on the intended victim.  The legend of the Fury
of the Fist of the Dragon came about.  Over many recountings, the tale
became known as The Fury of Dragonfist.  Liu Kang was now known as
Dragonfist.
    His family now dishonored by his reputation, Dragonfist knew he
could never return until he found the dragon who burned his town and
until he restored honor to his name.
    Uok then looked down at himself.  He was a scrawny half-elf with a
biting wit and a sharp tongue -- sharper than the blade he carried at least.
Uok was about five feet five inches tall with fair brown hair that ended
about half-way down his back.  He had grown up on his farmhouse in the
region known as Yente ac Frem.  From his father he learned many things
such as herbalism, diseases, and medicine.  No outstanding features gave
Uok a plus as he fit into every crowd.  Fair strength, and fairly complected,
his body weighed no more than 155 pounds after a large feast.  Only his
hazel eyes could give him away, but the color changed as the surroundings
did.  the trained eyes of a spy were the only ones which could track Uok on
any given day.
    In the forest on the outskirts of town, Vander and Tarelas found a
shrubbed area where they would lay and rest.  Although the shrubbery
would provide minimal cover, at best, for Vander, Tarelas was enshrouded
in near total secrecy from the outside world.
    Tarelas looked over at the being he called "My Large Friend," a
nickname he gave Vander when they shared a cell in the prison only some
hours ago.  Just a few feet to the left, a mulberry bush provided the daily
supplement Tarelas sought.  Vander, on the other hand, was suffering from
a lack of food.  His great size was a major problem for him because, on
average, Vander ate two to three times the amount of food any normal
person could consume.  The berries would not satisfy his hunger so Vander
left Tarelas to go hunting in the woods for some game that he would have
for a filling nighttime meal.  Following a slightly worn path into the woods,
the sounds of animals rustling in the underbrush could be distinctly heard.
The woodland life was plentiful here.  Blood flowed faster in Vander.  His
instinct began to arouse the primal processes not so long ago forgotten.
Natural drugs were released from the brain invigorating Vander to a level
and a height he had not experienced in quite some time.
    Dark was the path he traveled.  Many branches hung low obscuring
his view any further than fifteen or twenty feet.  The moons hung low in
the horizon offering no light because they did not penetrate the dense
foliage of the abundant trees.  He could hear the panting of the wounded
young animal many paces in front of him.  Were it not for the dripping
blood marking the path taken by the Woolly Rhino, Vander would have
many minutes before confused a phony trail for the actual one.  A kill
would signify acceptance into the group.  Vander would be called "The
Master of the Hunt."  Each passing, four initiates were told to hunt down
and kill a Woolly Rhino independently to be accepted -- a tough initiation
for any Firbolg, a nearly impossible mission for any human or humanoid.
Many decades had prepared Vander for this moment.
    He could feel his nostrils flare like the Rhino's did when the surprise
attack came from behind the tree.  A new weapon, called an atlatl
originating from the lands to the south, was his choice.  The local merchant
bought five of them from the traveling merchant ships on the GIL.  The
merchant, named Bryce, said they came from a land called Certu Dek
Alk'Kiriji.  He had picked them up from a temple in the capital city from
another merchant connection of his.  The javelin screamed through the air
as the Rhino turned to face the location from where the sounds emanated.
The Rhino's side slid apart as if welcoming a guest when the tip of the
javelin struck with an unknown amount of force supplied by this new atlatl.
The mane of hair Vander had was reminiscent of the greatest heavy war
horse barging down upon the weak light infantryman in the lonely country
side.  His hair waving in the wind and from the motion of sprinting toward
the whining animal bucking and running in a crazed and frenzied state at
the gaping and gushing wound, the oxen-like shoulders provided all the
thrust needed to launch another javelin from the atlatl.  Again, the eyes did
not deceive Vander.  The arms and legs were as solid as the most aged
bronzewood tree, and they fought the Woolly Rhino crunching its sides
like a shoddy ash sapling.  The weathered hide of this Rhino provided no
protection from the massacre of bludgeons Vander applied in furious,
violent repetitions.  Such forceful blows broke the bones of the once proud
beast leaving it quivering in a deadened state waiting for its last gasps of
breath for the pain to stop.
    Vander had succeeded where only one other Firbolg in this initiating
group would.  It would mark the first time in their community history that
more than one person would succeed in defeating such demonic
adversaries in individual combat.

    "Vander, my big friend, are you going to stand there all evening, or
are you going to go get something to eat," questioned Tarelas staring at
him awkwardly.
    Distracted momentarily, waking from a dazed slumber, Vander
uttered something about "making sure of what his plan was and going over
his actions..."
    Glancing back, Vander told Tarelas he would return in a little while
and that he should not concern himself about what he is doing because he
could handle himself in any situation.  Vander finished by complementing
what he said with, "...And I did not stutter."
    Tarelas looked into the fire that he had built.  He had searched the
forest for dead kindling.  The forest provided him with everything he
needed and, in no certain terms, would he desecrate the forest or anything
found within it.  Many passings in the woods had taught Tarelas several
idioms about nature; however, the most important of these would be:
Beware nature, for what you give it, it will give back.  Tarelas was not
young.  The past few cycles he had spent in the woods near the border of
Pelgrin-Ti and Vek.  The group he traveled with was made up of his three
brothers, two sisters, six cousins, and twelve friends.  One night, after they
had made camp someone asked where they were in location to the nearest
town.  Everyone replied that no one really knew.
    It was winter and the stars had changed their location.  Having spent
most of the winter time underground or in their dwellings, no one really
knew the winter stars and how to determine their position exactly.  The
trees were barren of external life and the ground was hard offering little
comfort to their weary bodies.  Six inches of hard snow was on the top of
the ground.  Earlier in the day, they forded a small river about five
hundred feet wide.  Frozen over, they could not determine its depth or
how full of life it was.  Some holes were dug in the ice for fishing.  While
they were on the ice, echoes of crunching of snow rang in their ears.
Because the snow was mostly compacted, Tarelas figured that whoever it
was had to be near the bank and near them.  Moving slowly and exactly so
as not to raise concern and panic, Tarelas went over to his brother Iris
Berk-O.  As he trotted over to his brother, arrows began to fly overhead.
His kindred were struck and so was he.
    "Everyone run!  Run on the river downstream!  They dare not follow
us on water with their mounts and gear.  They would break the cover and
fall in.  Come on!  Everybody move," screamed Tarelas, his lungs burning
from the cold air now being gulped at every possible moment  preparing
for any reaction to the attackers' actions.
    "Brother," shot back Iris, "Most are sleeping on the shore.  Only a
few of us are here.  I am going to try and save them!"
    "NO!  Come on with me.  They heard us.  We have to show them the
way."
    "Tarelas, I am going.  Go on with these people."
    At that moment, a single horse began to run on the ice floe dragging
five seemingly lifeless, limp bodies connected by rope to the saddle of the
enraged horse.  The bodies were flung about wildly on the ice defiling
them when the horse reached an area where the ice was thin and its heavy
pounding from the strong gallop caused a break in the ice.  Stuck in the
crack, the horse whinnied as the cold water began to creep up its sides
slowly submerging the horse and its followers.
    The rage Iris felt could not keep him from acting any longer.  He ran
as fast as he could for the shoreline where the arrows were aimed directly
for him.  Death, you bastard, let me win revenge for the pain they have
caused me!  An arrow pierced Iris Berk-O in the diaphragm and another
pierced his lung.  Iris began to drown in his own blood.  Tarelas saw his
brother flailing for the sky, trying to swim out of the red murkiness
snuffing his brother's life.  Iris could feel a heavy weight sinking in his
chest.  He could not breath.  It was difficult for him to do anything.  The
dying brother wanted the pain to stop... he wanted to rest and sleep -- it
was really cold and all he wanted was to sit near a warm campfire drinking
a nice cup of almond tea. Tarelas saw his brother's arms fall to the ground
as the last breath of life left his brother and climbed high into the chilled
air.  The last puffy cloud of Iris was quickly dispersed as arrows once again
began to stream onto the riverbed.  Tarelas took one long last look at his
bloodied brother.  They were twins.  Both had soft black hair.  The purest
eyes.  And the strongest hands.  They loved the ground on where they
stood.  Tarelas ran down the river... faster than he had ever run before.
He loved his brother.  They were the best friends.  Tarelas felt that he had
lost part of his soul.  Together they made one, and now a part of the one
was gone.  Tarelas thought he saw Iris's fingers twitch but he knew that he
was dead.
    I, oh, I'm still alive.  Sorry I did not see them fellas.  I, oh, I'm still
alive.  Like the gazelle, I run.  I, yeah, oh, I'm still alive.
    Tarelas saw the other in front of him.  The pack of five were trying to
keep all their stuff before they lost everything that they had.  What a
question... did someone give us away?  Did someone sell us out?  Well, I,
oh, I'm still alive.  My side hurts.  Looking down at his left side, an arrow,
broken off at the tip, protruded from Tarelas.  The blood did not flow
quickly, the cold and the wind had helped to stop the bleeding.  Pain was
still there, however.  His gaunt face and wafer thin body from the cycles of
traveling in the woods with his friends almost caused Tarelas's death.

    Tarelas fell.  Unconscious to everything around him, Rho, one of the
cousins, heard him fall and took Fri with her to go get Tarelas and save
him from the assassins.  The group made some good time down the river.
The assassin group did not pursue them.  Tarelas was right when he said
that the horses were too heavy for a pursuit.  From their travels and
experience, they knew that the next village was about two days away.  All
they could hope for was to fix fires at night and keep moving as best they
could.  Rho and her brother, Fri, worked their herbalist and healing arts
but to little success.  Tarelas and two others did not improve over the next
few hours.  Help was needed.  They were in dire straits.
    Night fell.  A midnight blue sky shone upon them filled with many
stars and two moons.  The green and the gray moons mixed their colors to
make an eerie effect on the snow and the water.  Wind became their most
immediate foe.  Swirling viciously, causing the weather to be harsher that it
really was, the fire offered not warmth but a means of survival.  Through
the night, they wiped towels of warmed water over Tarelas, Ming, and
Vcer.  Rho cradled the blood caked head of Tarelas in her arms.  In his
hero's attempt to save everyone, an arrow had grazed the side of his head -
- Tarelas had never even felt it.  No one wanted to die out here.  Alone.
Scared.  Lonely.  Rho promised herself that she would accept Tarelas's
offer to be joined in the festival of the cherry spring when summer came
next.  She felt foolish for not having accepted before.  But I did not want it
then, Rho contemplated.  Maybe I did.  Maybe I was scared to admit I
wanted him to be my partner.  I really hurt him when I said I wanted to
travel for a few months with him before I decided.  All these games I've
played must have been torture on him.  Oh, my dear Tarelas, I apologize
for stringing you out.  I will bond with you.  His body moved slightly.
    Vcer died that night; Ming regained some of her strength and helped
to carry Tarelas and their gear.
    When they got to the town of Korde, utilizing their monetary
reserves, everyone got sufficient lodging and food.  Tarelas was nursed
back to health.  Although healthy, his ego had not healed.  Tarelas felt
jaded.  He could never forgive the assassins for the death of his brother.
Once he learned who it was, never again would he rest until the last one
was taking a "dirt nap" as Iris used to say it





Chapter II

On the eve of destruction,
A reign of terror rules the street
When the heads start rolling;
The devil comes to let it bleed.
                            - Scorpions

And the earth becomes my throne.
I adapt to the unknown
under wandering stars I've grown.
                            - Metallica

The mystic bond of brotherhood makes all men one.
                            - Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)



    The slight breeze came in through the open windows of the Rose
Petal Tavern.  No glass filled the squared holes for windows.  An inviting
dusk red sky was on the horizon kicking up a small rustle in the trees
bearing the new leaves for the summer.  Another day spent in this town
doing nothing.  Everyone had split up the money from the jail evenly, but
no one had gotten any new money in the past two days.  Zeffrin, itself, was
a tight-nit community.  There were no surpluses.  It seemed as if there was
just enough people to fill all the jobs that would be needed by a
community.  Only one of anything could be found.  Odd was how Uok
described the town.
    "I don't see how any town could have just enough of everything.  I
mean, that's like saying that I'm going to throw a feast every cycle at my
castle and, even though I don't know who's coming, or how many people
were invited, I'd have just enough to cover everything.  I just don't see it
happening," said Uok, leaning back into another tankard of mead.
    Lorin leaned forward finishing off her leg of chicken, cooked to
perfection -- quite close to how Monk Ferth would cook it himself.  She
realized she had not sent word to him for several cycles.  She would
remember to do this later, but now she had a point to make with this
mangy half-elf named Uok.
    "Well if you have that tunnel vision and you don't have a good
understanding of the way things work in life, then, yeah, I guess I could
see your point.  However, my dear elf bastard, I do understand.  The
government must simply supply each region with enough people to fulfill
the requirements of every town.  So, like, when someone or some type of
profession is needed, they cultivate that type of person from the new
people who come to the town."  Drawing herself slightly away from the
table with a grin implying that the conversation was closed, Kurn piped up
because he had had much experience with the entire Church.
    "I can't believe you would try to put that bullshit past Uok, or me for
that matter.  I grew up with the Church.  I know how it operates.  I was a
part of the Church.  I know the Church.  And you, my little bitch, are no
wise man of the land."   Kurn turned to Uok and began to explain the
Church of Ares of the former Inem'Ohk.  He also brought Uok up with the
latest information regarding the breakup into the separate territories, how
the Oracles at Cal Myndyn have predicted that they foresee the omens of
an animated and angry Ares.
    Kurn went on to divulge this information to Uok and Lorin.  By no
means did Kurn keep a neutral stance in his story.  He had been hurt by
the Church and had some personal vendettas he wanted resolved.
    Kurn began, "Vosta was the remnant of the once sprawling religious
community known as the Inem'Ohk.   The Inem'Ohk (IO) was a tyrannical
religious state where only the clerics of Ares were allowed any comforts of
life at all.  The people were given nothing and received nothing.  The IO
rounded up all technology in their realm and stockpiled it in their temples
and religious universities to be kept away from the heathenly citizens.  An
oppression was the cultural standard of living.  The people had nothing,
nor were they ever taught anything but the basics of farming.  As was wont
to occur over long periods of time given such rule, the little technology
that we had did fall into some state of disrepair or unusable situation.  We
had neither the means nor the intelligence to repair and utilize their
equipment.
    Kurn continued, "The countryside began to stagnate.  No ideas were
generated for inventions because the people were taught many times over
to accept what they saw because that is all that there was in life.  Life was
nothing but a dreary existence and the priests were there to ensure to us
that nothing good happened to anyone in life.  The Mandawars (Head
priests of Ares) began to get nervous because they saw the seeds for
insurrection beginning to grow.  At that time, about 8610 passing, the
Temple of Astronomy and Astrology approached their leaders. The TAA
was a godless and powerless religion when it came to the casting arts.  The
TAA, they explained to the Ares enclave, was in need of the healing arts for
an upcoming expedition.  They reiterated that, although they had much
power when it came to fighting and knowledge of the seas via boating and
the stars, they were completely lacking when it came to healing. The TAA's
herbalists could only do so much before their efforts were fruitless, or,
more simply put, a waste of time."
    Fully launched into the history, no one dared interrupt.  Kurn went
on, "Because the Ares government had no real reason for money -- it was a
nominal currency at best valued only more than the currency from the Noi
Nu Tievos -- they came back to the TAA with a greater offer.  The IO
would provide full time healing services on all ships of the TAA provided
that the TAA, two or three times per cycle, send boats laden with food and
goods that the peasants would be able to use.  The TAA were ecstatic with
this news.  Not only were they not going to have to give up money, but
they also only had to deliver paltry goods to them for the immensely
powerful service that they were receiving in return.  This system of
providing healing for goods had been in place since that time and
continues even in this day.  The Vostan government had released its grip
on the populous somewhat; however, the general citizen still wallows in the
technology of eight or nine thousand years ago.  The TAA and Vosta now
have developed a stronger relationship than the IO had ever had.
    Emphatically, showing off his knowledge of politics, Kurn raved, "In
this time of great offensive military maneuvers by the TAA against the
elves in Dale One of Belth belonging to Dakka Cur and against the Free
Island of Qus, the TAA military leaders required that as many people with
the healing ability be as available as possible.  Vosta, realizing this need,
had now begun to ask for hard currency because they now have access to
other peoples from the northwest territories. They, the Vostans, have
increased their relations with many other lands to the south to create and
generate more interaction.  The Intragalactic Banking Corporation had
initially banned the Entwined Purple Worm even further plummeting its
value resulting from the difficulty the IO peoples had in obtaining raw
metals for their coins.  However, the lands of the IO were, and continue to
be, rich with natural resources such as lumber and specialty woods. It
seems that the soil on which Vosta finds itself is extremely fertile providing
a great land for the growth of dense forests and thick rare types of foliage.
The IBC allowed the Entwined Purple Worm back into the accepted
monetary trade system under the condition that the IBC be given the
exclusive right to coin the Entwined Purple Worm and the distribution to
the countries of the former Inem'Ohk in exchange for raw and natural
materials.  This has been done in good faith since the gray elves of Eldis
Turn follow the law to the utmost.  Vosta was a minor benefactor because
the people did not have the tools required to harvest the natural resources
of the lands; consequently, Vosta had a parsimonious influx of cash as
compared to Gurak Xar, Yente ac Frem, or Golgo Pakh."
    Pausing momentarily for a breath, Kurn plunged onward, "Currently,
Vosta finds itself weakly armed and weak internally.  The inner
government was still reeling after the settlement of the civil war lasting
nearly seventy passings.  Having the resources to coin their own money,
Vosta has decided to coin the Annis Drone.  The pleas and prayers to Ares
have gone unanswered as Ares feels that his followers have let him down
and betrayed him.  The Oracles at Cal Myndyn have had some of their
wisest men watching this developing situation from afar to determine if
they can glean any foresight.  The oracles have let it be known throughout
the underground and their ranks that they believe that the portents and
omens of Ares are evident. The oracles claimed that at anytime some
cataclysm will come upon Vosta and release it of its failed leaders and, in
replace, the new followers of Ares will usurp control and steer his country
in a new direction."

    Dragonfist had been wandering for some time around the small town
scoping for people and places that interested him.  Many of the shops were
closing up for the night, and many people were on the streets trying to
make a last minute deal with harried vendors and fed-up customers.
Lively, the streets were teeming with life and diversity.  He had just passed
a small shop that dealt in metal.  Called "Ironmonger Jake's," the building
was detached from the surrounding buildings.  A small, frail human sat
inside the shop smoking a pipe and eating some light green leaves.  A
curious creature by nature, and always looking for a good sale, Dragonfist
decided to check out Ironmonger Jake's.
    Crossing the threshold of the shop, Dragonfist was instantly
surrounded with an array of choices from weaponry and armory.  All types
of hiking gear and farming gear were also available.  The shop could not
have been any larger than twenty feet by twenty feet.  A couple of small
holes in the roof leaked water from the rain of the recent days.  The water
barrel that Jake had kept on the roof was weathering and beginning to leak
water.  Dragonfist could see many vents in the roof for the circulation of
air when the Ironmonger would be working on his wares.  To the left of
Dragonfist, hung along the wall and strewn somewhat haphazardly across
the floor, were several pole arms, an allotment of swords with much
cultural diversity in their make, and a few maces for both horseman and
footman alike.  The forges, the hammers, the anvils:  they were all
dilapidated and low in quality -- they resembled the general conditions of
the area.
    Zeffrin's inhabitants were mostly poor farmers; however, Zeffrin was
a town that had luck on it's side.  The main overland route between Larn
and Trydin ran through Zeffrin.  As the economists at University of Gamur
in Aumech have taught for many years, roads lead to the rapid
culturization of a country side resulting in the creation of jobs, businesses,
and cash.
    While the prevalent sight was a house or building in a ramshackle
condition, the businesses that catered to the more wealthy travelers
boasted doors, locks, and guards to keep the ruffians of the streets outside
their buildings and rooms.  Only the affluent inns had bars, and this would
cost the local farmer nearly an entire cycle's wage -- for the traveler, a
mere pittance for the duties of life.
    For those who had friend in the local government, the taxes were
slight and the rewards profitable.  The Innkeepers would keep track of
who came in and who went out.  They would note what kind of wares they
had; the kinds of people they traveled with; the kinds of currency they
carried, and the amounts of currency (gems and jewelry also); the racial
composition.  This information would be given to the city or town
constable who would report this information to the local raiding party
commander.  Armed with the location, speed, strength, wealth, and
composition of the caravan, a proper raiding party was created to track the
caravan down for the purpose of raiding them or enslaving them.  Many
caravans paid the premium for "safe passage" through the savage wood side
and for the general upkeep for the roads on which they commenced
business.
    All of the collected monies went right into the pocket of the
governmental agencies:  the political arena, and the religious arena.  Both
of the agencies were extremely potent.  Gurak Xar was equally divided
among the two lines.  The rulers were coronated by the religious officials
of the "state" religion; however, religious tolerance existed.  The civil war
had not created lack of foresight in the foundation of the new country,
rather, the civil war infested the government with oracles, or those people
with the gift of foresight.  Every government official had to be affiliated
with some sort of religion, or code of beliefs.  The strongest religion at the
time, defined as the "state" religion, would coronate the new leader of the
country so long as the leader was not of the same religion as the coronating
religion.  The governmental agencies were extremely corrupt offering no
bastion of logic or solace from the harsh and cruel religions prevailing all
about the lands of the Gurak Xar.
    This was how the Slave Lords saw their "in" for protection from
outside competitors.  By subsidizing the religions and the government with
outrageous gifts of money from their sales of slaves, the Slave Lords
received spiritual guidance and healing, as well as brut bureaucratic
protection to it's finest extent.  No town was exempt from the influence of
the Slave Lords and their greedy means.  Although, this is not to say that
the Lords were erratic and disorganized it their efforts, for the Lords were
usually law abiders since the support of the government was required.
And, indirectly, the support for the holy ruler, came from some small
recognition of the populous and their efforts in doing the "right thing" for
the country and their Lord.
    As long as the profits kept rolling in, the Lords were happy, the
religious communities were happy, the rulers of the country were happy.
Recently, the Lords had begun to encounter some strong resistance on the
GIL, the Great Inner Lake, as the barrier forcing the people to be
confined to the continent had been magically lifted.  Some ancient water
ways, once dry and filled with dirt and sand, now flowed with the magic
liquid called water.  Old rivalries surfaced and new rivalries began.  The
pirate kingdoms and boats swelled in numbers -- so did their coffers.
    The Lords had been sacked at sea three times within 31 days.  Two
ships were lost at sea, and over three hundred crew had been skewered by
the swords of miscreants of other pirate companies.  Something was afoot
and their attention was not to be delayed.
    By shifting their attention to the seas, filled anew with competition
and savagery and barbarity, the program begun only this passing of
refurbishing and renovating some of the key trading cities had been put on
hold.  Zeffrin had been one of the cities benefiting from this paid
"refurbishment."
    The few whitewashed buildings were for the use of private
individuals who owned and operated the profit centers in the town.
Dilapidated housing, and a dying infrastructure remained to be operated
on as the final gasps of breath were exhaled in the weakening pulse of the
people.  While some construction equipment and supplies had arrived
during the seventh cycle, the recent events caused the materials to go
unused -- almost discarded, seemingly forgotten.  A few times, some of the
citizens had tried to seize the goods because they wanted to put the tools
and goods to use and rebuild their town.  Unfortunately, the town guard,
paid by the government, following religious doctrines, and subsidized by
the Lords, did not permit anyone, under any circumstance, to touch the
materials... let alone use them.
    So this is what Dragonfist saw before him:  a frail old man trying to
eke out a petty living selling the lost forgotten weapons of someone else's
battles.  In front of him lay an assortment of camping and farming gear
mostly in a rustic state.  Dragonfist believed that this equipment could
have been sitting here for as long as five or six passings.  All the armor that
he had was piecemeal and of poor construction.  Training in the monastery
had taught Dragonfist the varying degrees of metal and the quality of its
construction in a suit of mail.  He reflected that his time had been well
spent.
    When Dragonfist turned around to leave the shop, Ironmonger Jake
did not even look up or say good-bye.  In fact, Dragonfist realized that
Ironmonger Jake had never even recognized that somebody had come in
through the front door.  Outside the shop, Dragonfist lamented that he
had no use or respect for these people.  They had no honor; they had no
code.  They lived in squalor and strove for nothing more out of life.
Simply to survive another day was acceptable as a reward.  If a bastard
were to come into town and begin killing all the town folk, Dragonfist had
to believe that he could only help to clean out this town of the non-
believers.
    But such talk of hate and destruction will not help me to regain my
family honor.  I must act.  To gain my family honor and prestige back, I
must strike back at the heart of the people who command such dire living
by their subjects.  I must conquest the Lords of these poor folk -- I must
destroy the Slave Lords I have heard so many things about.  Walking back
to the Rose Petal Inn, Dragonfist ran into Tarelas and Vander, who were,
themselves, making their way to the Inn to meet up with everyone else.

    At the Rose Petal Inn, a now blushing Lorin had approached the
barkeep, Juhn's son, and asked if he would object to a little singing for the
fine establishment.  Luke, the barkeep, brushed up against Lorin to get a
closer look at the person he would pay for singing in his bar -- and to get a
closer look at the package Lorin presented.  Lorin played off Luke's youth
perfectly.
    "Ah, my dear Luke, you do not know for sure if you would like to
have someone such as me play in such a place as this.  As I have said, as
you have seen, I do not wield a sieve.  Come let me tell you in more clear
terms the type of entertainment I offer."  Pulling him closer, making sure
that her body was pressed tightly upon his, she consoled Luke.  "I do not
think I told you everything I can do.  Let me-"
    Luke interrupted her interjecting, "I do not think Miss Lorin that
you need tell me anything.  I need know only that you play.  Odd it is that
our usual singer has just deceased.  Used to work over in the jail you know.
Was a guard... I heard he was killed earlier today. I-"
    "Hush now, dear Luke.  You fluster yourself."  A wide playful grin
began to grown from cheek to cheek as she pressed her hand firmly on his
leg.  "All you need to do is give me a flute.  And, oh, what a wonderful
story I will weave... based mostly on truth if you dare believe."
    Not more than a minute passed before Luke returned breathless
with anticipation.  Luke thought he would have stories to tell to Hertan,
his best friend.  He could see himself tomorrow telling Hertan about the
wonderful night he had spent with this woman who dared not leave him
be.  Handing her the flute, Luke introduced the bar patrons to Lorin the
Master Weaver of Life's True Adventures.  Although Lorin did not
particularly approve of this introduction, this chance provided a way for
her to begin making some money so she could leave this dump for some
better places to the south in Tolemac.  These places were ones she had
heard of so often.  Many bards traveled to Conynt, the capital of Tolemac,
for the riches reaped by the greatest bards never went untold in story and
song for too long.  This was her other goal in life.  To become a bard on
the court of Vercan Sadenfeld was her other ambition in lieu of smashing
into small, tiny bits the murders responsible for killing her closest friends.
    The crowd, having never before heard of Lorin the Master Weaver,
was apprehensive of having their evening conversation interrupted by this
peddler of supposed good song and story.  A cold reception greeted Lorin
as she took a stool and sat in the front of the room to the left of the
entrance.  Customers leaving or entering the bar could not but notice and
hear her play and sing.   Surprisingly, to the content of many customers,
Lorin had a beautiful voice, better than her appearance some of the more
gifted minds sitting in the room thought.  As an hour neared since she
began, Lorin began to tire from the combination of singing and playing.
Luke noticed this and took key from Lorin.
    During a pause between songs, Luke stepped up saying, "Now all of
you!  You have heard her voice and you have heard her tales.  I beg of you
to please put a little something for her in this pail."  Glancing Lorin's way,
he saw Lorin giggle at Luke's vain attempt at prose.  Turning back to the
crowd he spoke louder, "Give all of you.  Just a little copper or two -- give
her a silver and she won't have to pilfer."  The patrons laughed at this and
some money began to be thrown in the pail as they left the bar.  Lorin
began to play another tune when Vander, Tarelas, and Dragonfist
sauntered in, sitting at the table where Kurn and Uok were.  The table,
dwarfed by the presence of Vander and the late arrivals, Kurn got another
table and put them together.
    "Everyone go and get a friend.  In a half hour from now, Lorin will
tell the tale of her most recent and daring adventure.  An escape from the
steel grip of death itself," Luke touted, "A tale so terrifying I had to sleep
with me pap last night.  Right dad?"
    Juhn looked at his son a little awry but concurred.  "Aye, I'll have you
all know that even I was scared from the tortured tale that Luke told me.
An' I'm sure it will only make me fear the living devils themselves when I
hear it from the dame herself.  Now hurry!  Get yourselves home and get
yourselves back with more people... and bring some real change this time!
I don't hire no gutter people here in my establishment.  In fact, she
wanted to play here so bad, she almost got killed getting here.  Now get
back here in half of an hour.  Or I'll come and get you myself."
    The crowd was really being worked by two experienced orators.
Everyone pledged that they would return in half an hour to hear the tale of
death and adventure from the fabled Lorin the Master Weaver.  Lorin
collected the money from the pail and counted it:  3g7s54c29b Entwined
Purple Worm.  She kept the three gold coins for herself and gave the rest
to Juhn and Luke in repayment for the kindness and hospitality.  As Lorin
saw it, this was also another way to entice them to "talk her up" to the
travelers because more profits would come down the river over time.
    Lorin approached the table where her friends sat.  These are my
friends now.  I have lost my family.  I lived with these droogs on the verge
of death.  And now I live with them in the dawn of a new life.  I pledge
myself to whatever adventures come our way and whatever rewards they
reap.
    Standing up to greet Lorin after her fine performance, Uok fell down
to the ground a drunk slobbering mess.  Kurn bent over to try to help him
but crumpled as he lost his balance.  Neither Kurn nor Uok would ever
remember being lifted by Vander and Tarelas and brought to their rooms
in the back.  The two gentle giants of the group, Vander and Tarelas,
decided that they would leave the inn and return to the forest outskirts
because they did not feel like socializing.  Dragonfist was left to watch
Lorin by himself.  Dragonfist found himself wondering about the
possibility of getting together with Lorin.  Although Lorin was not the
concubine he had often thought about, many cycles had passed since
Dragonfist had permitted himself any physical indulgences.  He decided
that he would sit and watch Lorin perform.  Perhaps her performance
would reveal a little bit about her inner self.  This was something that he
wanted to learn more about.
    As the half hour approached since the original departure by the
patrons, they began to stumble back to the Rose Petal Inn bringing more
friends, and more money.  The crowd was growing steadily, although it was
not a crowd comparable to the ones received by the Hyrnjan Minstrels in
the Desolate Lands of the Warlords.  About thirty-five people had filled
the inn to this point.  The aroma of freshly applied perfumes and scents
from the newcomers mixed with the smells of spilled ale, roasting meet
over the open spit in the back of the inn, and sweat of weary travelers at
the end of a long day.  A small fire in the hearth stifled the growing
darkness from the outside; however, most of the light came at the benefit
of some local town magi who offered the light spells if they could join the
frivolity for free.  Juhn had no problem with this if Lorin did not since
Juhn knew that light usually attracted people.  He also knew that these
people would not leave without spending some money.  More and more
people jammed the Rose Petal Inn to hear and witness this striking woman
tell a tale of death and life.
    Everyone settled down at the cries of Luke.  Lorin took her position
on the stool in the front of the bar.  People lined the halls on either side of
the counter; all the tables and chairs were occupied.
    Today is one of those times where everyone is in the right place at the
right time.  It seems like we are working for the same cause and there is no
deviltry in the world.  I only hope it lasts for the night, thought Juhn.
    Looking from her left to right, Lorin could see a room full of people
half-drunk, drunk, sober.  Nevertheless, they all looked to her intently
waiting with baited breath to hear her spin her tale.  Never before had
Lorin played so spontaneously to such a large audience.  In fact, this was
the largest audience that she could ever remember playing for -- solo at
least.  Monk Ferth had always told her that she would one day reach this
stage in her life when she would no longer need him.  Lorin thought,
perhaps, she may not need him right now, but she could have really used
his support knowing that he was at her side.
    If I play terribly, mused Lorin, who knows what this audience will
do.  I have to remember the only idiom Ferth ever taught me:  Tell them
what they want to hear -- tell it convincingly and they will believe
anything you say.
    She brought the flute to her mouth.  The flute was a new instrument
for her.  In her earlier days, Lorin had learned to play an Folian Harp.
She liked how she could play the instrument and sing at the same time.
Anyone who knew Lorin -- and that number had dwindled in recent cycles
-- knew that Lorin loved harmony.  If she could get three or four people
together and sing in harmony, that would be her favorite thing to do.  If
singing and playing would have given her a decent life style, Lorin
probably would have never started adventuring.  Many times, Lorin had
sung with Gthylomy and Mnurmak.  Lorin loved Gthylomy and Mnurmak.
They all loved each other; this, they believed, was what made their music
and their harmony so touching to those who had listened to their
numerous performances.  By sharing their intimacy, they evolved with
each other at every step of life.  Since their untimely departure, Lorin had
not experienced an ounce of love or life within her soul.  Her soul needed
to be fed, and it found its healing process, now, in playing for these people.
She would not be completely healed, but the process would have now
begun.
    With a slight tremble, remembering those people who have always
been important to her, her flute began to move the air around her
undulating the emotions of the entranced watchers and listeners.  The
bittersweet emotion of elation and anger filled each note with power and
weakness.  Her soul, bereft of strength, drew upon the strength of the
crowd, drawn together in one place for a common theme.  Lorin looked
out once, while playing fervently, gathering determination and resolve.
The people gazing at Lorin became a mere extension of her thoughts.
When Lorin stopped playing the flute, Luke began playing his extra one.
Lorin's powerful voice carried far beyond the confines of the tattered and
worn walls of the Rose Petal Inn.  People on the streets near the Inn drew
closer in inspiration from the narrative Lorin wove.  After an hour, almost
sixty people in various spaces, positions, and states of consciousness were
listening to her reveal her travels from Adqus, in Grolleg, to Zeffrin.
    The sun had long ago set against an azure sky filled with stars and the
bright reflection of the green moon.  No wind perverted the natural sound
of their play.
    The soft voice became husky as Lorin took in a deep breath.  In tune
with the tale, her annunciation and projection became hesitant and scared.
Lorin had now reached the dungeons of the Zeffrin Slave Pens in the
Zeffrin Stockade run by the local constable.  She began to relate how time
had no value and how everything seemed lost.  Mired in the story, some
on-lookers cried during this recounting of pain and apprehension.  Mostly,
the audience was anticipating with contained excitement how she would
end the story.  But, rather then end quickly what had taken nearly two
hours to build, a spent and emotionally drained Lorin told everyone that
she would continue tomorrow to finish her recount of danger and peril in
her charge to achieve resolution in her quest to admonish severe
punishment on the bastards who had killed her lovers and her family.
    Lorin asked for no money.  She simply put her flute in her pocket
and walked from the stool to her room.  Walking into her room, she
glanced back at the crowd in the foyer of the Inn, and in the main room
itself.  Everyone was stunned at the swiftness with which the concert had
ended for Lorin's presentation had been done charismatically and
theatrically.  As if waking from a prolonged euphoria, a single file began to
stream out from the Rose Petal Inn placing many coins in the pot used
earlier for previous prelude performance.  Their emotions had been
touched and their hearts stirred.  These were the kinds of performances
that inspired retired people to begin life anew, and encouraged the tired
fighter to take up arms and fight for causes once again.  Dragonfist
watched everyone intently as they passed by the coffer for Lorin.  He did
not ever once have to look at someone twice for placing no money in pail.
Vander and Tarelas looked at each other with the recognition that came
when a discovery had been made.
    "I think we've found the answer to any cash problems we may've had.
Don't you think so," questioned Tarelas.
    Vander quipped, "We'll just have to play this tune as long as possible.
I think we'll be fit as a fiddle after a couple of days like this.  I mean, just
look at the pail.  All full of coins for her from her parading our near death.
I almost wish I could do that."
    Brushing his hair aside, Kurn had been feeling better for the past few
hours since he had tried one of the elixirs he had purchased at a local
apothecary.  Uok had personally vouched for the elixir since Kurn had told
Uok that he did not trust the herbalist in the shop.  "I think that Lorin
deserves every brass penny she gets.  She had the guts to do something
about her situation.  She did something when no one of us would.  We'd
probably all still be sitting in the clearing near the dungeon wondering
what we would do for clothes were it not for the direction of Lorin."
    Taking a venomous stance, Kurn added, "I can't believe that any of
you would take comfort in riding on the back of her cloak, soaking up the
scraps she drops behind and living off her efforts.  You're all weaklings and
sicken me."
    Vander jumped to his feet throwing the table aside landing on
Dragonfist.  Seething anger and quick breaths flowed from Vander.  His
anger welled up within him.  He could feel himself strangling the Woolly
Rhino in the forest not so long ago.  Looking at Kurn, pounding his feet on
the floor, Vander knew that this was not the time to cause an altercation.
He stomped out; having just escaped one type of hell, he did not wish to
return to another.
    "See!  That is exactly the kind of reaction I'm talking about.  You run
away from your problems.  You too much a coward to face adversity and
confrontation!"  Kurn began to yell becoming more agitated with each step
that Vander took away from the establishment.  Uok threw himself on
Kurn and dragged him back to his room to prevent any bloodshed.  Tarelas
took off after Vander to prevent any unnecessary damage to the forest and
its dwellers.
    In the heat of all this, Dragonfist's eyes and concentration never once
wavered from the coffer that would provide their well-being.  With his
developed strength, he brought the pail back to Lorin's room after all the
visitors had left the establishment.  Those travelers who had paid for a
room at the Rose Petal returned as well.  A few stragglers stayed behind
asking who Lorin was and whether or not she was spoken for by another
suitor.  Dragonfist ignored all these people and their useless questions as
they served no direct purpose in his immediate concern.  Deep inside
Dragonfist's psyche, a warning buzzer was going off telling Dragonfist that
he had changed dramatically in the past few weeks.  The buzzer was trying
to warn Dragonfist that he was slowly becoming obsessed with the
direction he had in mind heeding little and taking no refuge in the wisdom
or advice of others.  Yet, Dragonfist did not care.  He had no ambition
other than to regain his personal honor.  Unbeknownst to everyone else,
Dragonfist had gone insane.  Driven by the sight of one goal, his myopia
would cause future peril and concern for anyone with whom he would
come into contact.  His obsession lay in obtaining that goal of restoring his
honor.  In not listening to his peers, and placing himself on a pedestal, he
had already lost his war.  The internal struggle would continue until the
realization of his current state came to the forefront of his thoughts and he
dealt with it.
    His obsession now was to provide protection and support to Lorin.
She had provided them with money to live.  He would now provide ensure
that her efforts were not diluted or unnoticed.
    The coffer, brimming with coins and a few paltry gems, hit the
ground outside Lorin's door with a large, resounding thud.  Lorin opened
the door after Dragonfist had called out for her several times.
    "What do you want Drag?"   She asked him with a glazed look in her
eyes one would have after a long cry.  The astute Dragonfist did not notice
that Lorin was not up to talking or sharing herself with another person at
this point.
    Dragonfist only saw that Lorin was in some kind of pain and that he
had come to the rescue.  He responded, "See here, I brought you the
coffer with the coins so you could keep it all.  No one challenged me.
Look, everything will be okay."  Stepping closer, Dragonfist wanted to
console and comfort Lorin.
    She moved away saying, "Drag, I need to be alone right now.  I'll talk
with you later.  I appreciate what you've done for me.  Thanks."  A small
kiss was Dragonfist's reward for what he had done.  Lorin would learn in
the coming day that that had been a mistake that would only compound
itself.  She lifted and dragged the pail inside her room and closed her door.
    Hearing the lock, Dragonfist spoke through the door, "Don't worry
Lorin, you're protected with me.  I will not allow anything to happen to
you."  That first night, Dragonfist stood guard outside Lorin's door
shunning the several requests by the others to get some sleep.  Dragonfist
had decided that his most impending concern was the safety of Lorin.  To
ensure her safety, he would do everything and anything required to see
that through.
    The night passed slowly for Lorin.  At first, she could not sleep.  The
night's recount had brought back and drudged up many fond memories of
Gthylomy and Mnurmak.  She missed them so.  Everything she did tonight
she did for them.  Everything she did from tomorrow onward was for her
and her new friends.  She knew that she would heal over time, but
sometimes time is a purgatory in itself as most people are a pawn in its
ripples -- helpless to do anything, able only to react to what goes on around
them rather than dictating and taking action being proactive with everyone
around them.  Then she redirected her energies to the man outside her
door.  Dragonfist's action had disturbed Lorin because he looked
bewildered and possessed when he had come to her door with the pail of
coins.  She did not want to turn him away and blow him off but she could
not think of anything else that she could do.  So she kissed him -- ever so
slightly.  It is not that she did not like him, but she knew that she would
never love him.  For long as she could remember, she loved being with
women and her women friends.  Monk Ferth had been an exception.  He
had been one of  the few people to accept her ways without justification.
He loved her as a daughter and took her for the entire package.  Lorin
knew that none of the people she now called her friends knew of this but
this did not bother her she told herself often.  Psychologically, emotionally,
and personally, Lorin was in shambles.  The performance in the evening
had caused her to deal with, and talk about in a glorified form, the events
of the past few cycles.  She did not know what to feel or how to act.  There
was no one to whom she could confide.  There was no one she could
implicitly trust.  Lorin slept an unpeaceful sleep not even having counted
her money.
    Dragonfist never moved a muscle during the course of the night.  His
head never drooped and his shoulders never slumped.  His long black hair
a foreboding symbol to the black quagmire of the emotional and
psychological vortex he, himself, was going through at this time.  Every
minute he had free, his thoughts wandered to the day when he killed his
brother.  His ears rung with the crack of Chang's sternum echoing in the
wind over the distance as he ran home with Chang in his arms.  The sight
of his brother's eyes widening with the reality that he was dead, having
only seconds to live before drowning in his own blood.  Chang never hated
Liu Kang for what he had done -- only pitied him.  Liu Kang had always
been his superior and he had always looked up to him for advice.  Perhaps
this was what caused the madness now coursing through Liu's veins.  He
saw the pity in his brother's dead, cold eyes.  Liu saw that he had only
caused dishonor in his family and himself.  He could never forgive himself
for what he had done.
    Every second not taken by process and thought brought Liu Kang
back to the day when they traveled to town.  Looking left, Liu saw that
group of thugs talking with the young boy he thought his brother, Chang.
Waiting for him to head back to their house a few miles from town, Liu
could see himself and his brother walking along the path.  It was as if he
were detached from the scene, like a devil made him watch his brother's
last seconds of tortured life in glee that it would now torture the very
person who had acted so irrationally.  This was what happened to
Dragonfist whenever he tried to sleep.  His only dream that he ever had
was to relive that day when he killed his brother in cold, vengeful blood.
People around him often wondered why he needed no sleep, or wanted no
sleep.  It was because Dragonfist could not sleep.
    And so it was again this night like all others had been since that day.
He stood guard outside the room in a trance aware of everything around
him, but oblivious to everyone around him.  The sun rose and Dragonfist
looked up dreading another dreary day of existence.  He had to regroup he
had decided.  Lorin would be the person with whom he would be
completely honest and truthful.  Perhaps, he thought, he would even let
her know his real identity -- his true self revealed to her as no other person
knew him.
    Vander and Tarelas approached the outskirts of the Inn and the
group of buildings near it.  For the first time, they looked at the jobs that
the town had to offer.  They knew that they had no mode of transportation
to anywhere else; therefore, they decided that training themselves in the
arts would be the best course of action until Lorin earned enough money
to buy them transport to another town west or northwest of here.  A small
bakery was connected to the Rose Petal Inn providing the Inn's patrons
with fresh baked bread and fresh jams daily when they awoke from their
slumber.  A cordwainer's, a cooper, a coppersmith, a brewer, a bladesmith,
and an apothecary:  these rounded out the local shops near the Rose Petal.
    Vander peeked in the bladesmith's shop and turned back to Tarelas.
"I think I am going to see if I can train under him for a couple of days,
Tarse.  Go ahead and find the others.  If I'm not back in a while, I'll catch
up with you guys later on."
    Tarelas shrugged his shoulders and turned to the Rose Petal's
direction heading there in no hurry.  He had seen Uok and Kurn in Agrit's
Apothecary yesterday and had been toying with the idea of picking up
some of the knowledge of that art from Uok and Kurn.  Actually, Tarelas
was greatly interested to find out how much money Lorin had made last
night from the crowd.  He thought that she had really captivated the
crowd.  Heck, she captivated me.  I was almost half-believing the things I
heard that we did in the dungeon of the Slave Lords to escape.  But, I do,
he thought grinning openly, chuckling aloud, remember slicing three
people with the one vicious back swing before beheading the fourth.  Even
I would like to know how the story finishes.  Maybe, then, I won't have to
worry about what's going to happen tomorrow.  Finishing his thought, he
trotted up to the door, swinging it open and rambling inside sitting down
for a plate of hot food and warm drink.  At another table, Uok and Kurn
were just finishing up their plate of potato crepes.  Lorin had given them
some money for their morning's meal without even looking at what she had
given them.  They, surely, were not going to question such acts of
generosity and had taken the money without a moment lost.  Tarelas
moved from his table and joined the two of them.  He asked Luke for
some warm milk and some bread and jam.
    Tarelas could not contain his anticipation any longer.  "So how much
did she make?  Did she say?  I dare guess that it must have been at least
300 gold!  There was a lot of money there."
    Kurn did not even look up from his meal.  He ignored Tarelas
because he had sided with Vander the Coward.  Uok, however, still had a
personality and he would not allow it to be tarnished in some childish
game.  "I can't say.  If you look down the left hall, you'll still see Drag
standing there in this really cool trance.  He hasn't moved an inch all night
saying that he was going to stay there standing guard for her.  Kind of
amazing that he hasn't gotten any sleep, don't you think?"
    "That is really weird," Tarelas agreed, glancing at Kurn adding a
touch of sarcasm in his voice.  "I have to think that he likes her or
something.  Who knows, maybe she'll kick his ass and he'll go run away to
another fight that he can't win."
    Kurn looked up but was cut short from saying his piece of mind as
the three of them saw Dragonfist appear with Lorin.  She had two sacks at
her side.
    Calling Juhn over, who was cleaning the counter, she handed him a
sack saying, "Juhn, here is fifteen gold pieces for your troubles and
hospitality.  I hope I have not been too much trouble for you or your son."
She began walking away towards the table where the three comrades sat
when Juhn called her.
    "And if I might ask m'lady, how much did you keep for yourself?"
    "About sixty-four gold pieces in platinum, gold, silver, copper, and
bronze.  I gave the few paltry gems to a few of the people who were on the
streets last night who looked a little lonely and in need of companionship."
    Dragonfist looked wildly up when he heard this.  How had she
gotten out of the room without him noticing he thought.  He had not
fallen asleep, and, to his belief, there were no windows in the rooms at all.
Lorin, he decided, would be a tough person to track and keep a close eye
on, but he believed that he had the tenacity and the tools with which to do
it.
    "If it please you, Lorin, I would ask that you continue to play here
tonight.  I have set aside a better room for you so you may rest during the
day.  I would not like to you to be unfit for your performance tonight,"
continued Juhn.
    "Dear Juhn, you don't have to go through such troubles for me, I-"
    Walking to Lorin and whispering in her hear, Juhn said, "M'lady,
'twas not I who went through all the trouble of preparing all of this for
you."  Looking around so as to make sure no one could hear what he was
telling her, Juhn whispered in even husher tones, "'Twas Luke.  I think he
has taken a liking to you, if you know what I mean."
    Lorin thought that today would be foreboding when she woke some
few hours ago.  She contemplated everything she had just heard from Juhn
and plotted out exactly what she was going to do.  By no means would
Lorin enter into a situation without having thought of a course of action, or
her reactions to people's actions.  This brought to mind one of her favorite
stanza's from her favorite troubadour in Adqus, Orite Mosa'e:  "I've been
looking for a savior in these dirty streets; I've been looking for a savior
beneath these dirty sheets...  My heart is sick of bein' in chains."  She had
spent a great many cycles learning from her mentor.  Orite Mosa'e had
learned how to deal with the "chains" of relationships and love in such
difficult times.  Several times, Orite had had to remind Lorin that not all
people in life were bad and evil, or that nor all people in life were nice and
good.  Lorin often spouted off to Orite that she just really detested people.
By playing an instrument and singing to an audience, reasoned Lorin, she
would not have to deal directly with these people or her emotions.  She
could put a game face on and go through life having many people believe
that she was whom they wanted her to be.  Orite told Lorin that, even
when she was learning how to deal with people in her years past,
eventually people must be dealt with directly.  At the end of a situation, if
she did not have the answer, she knew that someone else either knew the
answer or knew the person who could help lead her to the answer.  This
brought Lorin to another idiom of Orite:  "Sure, people suck, but they're
all around you and they're the only way to get things done."
    Lorin smiled into Juhn's eyes and said in a Grolleg dialect, "Tu sais,
toutes les petites choses de la vie ne m'ont jamais gjni, Juhn."  Then she
translated that for Juhn saying, "That's great.  I really appreciate it, Juhn."
    She turned back to her friends sitting at the table and took a seat
with them.  Luke came out from the kitchen down the right hallway when
he heard that Lorin had awakened and had come to the dining room.  A
hot plate of grits, salted meat, fresh fried eggs, and fresh fish waited for her
on top of the plate Luke prepared for her.
    "Please take this Lorin.  Absolutely no one else wanted to eat this and
we just could no let this go to waste.  Damn vagrant told us he didn't have
enough money to pay for what he ordered.  And I would really appreciate
it if you would eat this for me.  I mean, you're probable hungry and all
since your fantastic performance that you gave for all of us last night."
    From behind Luke, Juhn mouthed to Lorin that Luke had made this
meal especially for her.  Not to turn down such generosity, Lorin accepted
the meal with a playful curl on the right side of her lips and a hint of white
teeth -- a rarity for any person in these regions.  Although she had not
been hungry, once she started eating the food, Lorin's appetite became
voracious cleaning every scrap and morsel of food on the plate.  She spoke
little during the meal and even less during the course of the day as she
retired to the special room that Luke had cleaned up for her.
    At the bladesmith, Vander impressed the bladesmith enough with his
size alone that his apprenticeship was almost an immediate thing.  Vander
told the bladesmith that his interests were in the art of making two-handed
swords because the fabled sword was a dying breed as warriors tended to
use lighter quicker weapons now.  The bladesmith viewed Vander as an
opportunity to train someone who could take over the shop in a few years
when he would retire back to his home village about twelve days journey
from here.  All that Vander asked from the bladesmith as a condition of
hire was that he be allowed to construct a great oak club with the tools of
the master after the shop had closed.  To the bladesmith, that was free
time for Vander so long as the shop was not dirty and all the items were
returned to their proper place.
    Dragonfist had left Lorin's side when Luke went into the room, and
at Juhn's persistence that Dragonfist go do something besides stand
around all day.  In town, Dragonfist had seen a small bowyery and thought
that he might get a job working for the bowyer.  He left immediately left
following the conclusion of breakfast and the disappearance of Lorin into
her new chamber.   As well, Dragonfist found a place where a low-life was
needed to do grunt work -- something Dragonfist was looking for since he
wanted to remain out of the watchful eye of the local militia.
    Tarelas, Uok, and Kurn were going to stick together and hang around
the Inn working on fixing some herbalist salves, called healing salves, to
heal any wounds anyone might suffer when they would leave town in the
coming days.
    That evening, the crowd gathered to hear the second part to the
awesome tale that Lorin had begun the night before.  Tonight, she
promised the crowd that she would finish the story so they would not listen
throughout this evening's performance anticipating another continuation.
Even larger than last night, the walls of the dining room were swelling like
a log swelled from floating in the seas for an extended period of time.  The
floor boards sagged under all the people.  All the shoddy woodwork done
to construct this place was showing its ugliness this evening.  With the
windows open and the door taken off -- "...Somehow misplaced," said Juhn
-- a fair crowd gathered outside the establishment to listen to her voice
carry in the wind.  Juhn told everyone that Lorin had asked that she finish
tonight because she did not want to take the good people of this town, and
the travelers through this town, for their money.  He told everyone that
she would not play, after tonight, for three days, at which time she would
resume playing her normal songs and ballads to entice the crowd.  Each
person went that night expecting something different, having gotten
something different from the previous night's performance.  All the
emotion from the previous crowd electrified the crowd tonight.  The
anticipation for the Noted Lorin the Master Weaver had reached a fever
pitch.  Just when the crowd could wait not one more second, Lorin
appeared dressed in a black turtle-neck shirt and black satin pants she
purchased just before sundown from a caravan of clothiers making their
way to Larn from Trydin.  It cost her nearly half of what she had made
from the night before, but she had been in no mood to argue and barter
and paid the asking price from the merchant.  When he inquired as to her
occupation, Lorin told the merchant that she was the jester who recounted
the tale of adventure and compassion, of sultriness and passion, of deviltry
and virtuousness.  His eyes widened when he realized that he had met the
woman of whom every single one of his men had come back dreaming of
and talking about.  He said to Lorin that he would make sure that he
attended this evening's performance because he had heard so many things
about her.
    Browsing the crowd for anyone she might have known, Lorin began
by asking that Luke come forth and play the flute for her so she could sing
as accompaniment.  To the delight of the crowd, the style Lorin used to
sing this evening was far removed from the style used previously.  Utilizing
the range of her voice, Lorin entranced the crowd into a web of
demoralized people who felt that they had nothing to live for until a new
friend came along who inspired them all.  This friend, named Bridget, had
the personality that her fellow prisoners needed to initiate creative
thinking and inspire hope.  Before, resigned to a life of tortured pain and
death, they now had garnered, from Bridget's influence, the initiative to
communicate with each other and learn the strength of each other so that
they could work together to escape from the dingy, dank, and abominable
conditions that surrounded them.
    Lorin gave a graphic description of the prison where the heroine and
her comrades had lived for weeks.  The flute, playing in the low tones
associated with a scene of sadness and failing hope, began to falter in
harmony with the description and relation of how the prisoners had lost
sight of any hope they had had of escaping.  Lorin paused and the flute
continued.  Slowly, the tempo picked up and the mood changed.  Slowly,
Lorin crouched herself down into a small ball on her stool.  She leaned
forward beginning to look everyone in the eye.  Her speech flowed faster
and faster from her mouth.  The words transformed into pictures as her
thoughts became the expectations of her listeners.  Everyone edged
forward to the edge of their seat or crouched forward until they nearly fell
over.  The tempest of emotion swirled around everyone.  Their feelings
undulated with every twist and turn in the dungeon where the prisoners
were.  They became ecstatic when Bridget and her followers found
another route up or around.  Lorin's pulse quickened and her hair stood
on end.  She had not been so charged for as long as she could remember.
    She stood from her stool with a great long pause.  The flute died
down and quickly fell silent in the night.  Everyone stared having
witnessed one of the greatest stories ever told in this region of the world.
The crowd started to clap and whistle when Lorin began again.  Lorin
knew that she had not finished.  She had only to search for the ounce of
inspiration she needed so desperately.  Her emotions were stripped down
to the bone.
    "Come with me into my dream.  We'll lay on the grass and let the
hours pass."
    She walked out of the Rose Petal and walked down the road until she
reached a clearing where all one could see were the stars.  No fires lit the
skyline to diminish the effect of the ballad she sang.  Luke played furiously.
Sweat covered his entire body; this was his one time in life where he was at
the right place at the right time.  This was what he was meant to do with
his life.  The pictures became a living story.  Lorin began to act out her
story while singing.  She danced and played with every sentimental
memory that each person had.  Slowly, as she performed, her clothes were
removed piece by piece until she shone her bare body in the green
moonlight and the starry sky.
    "Let me see you stripped down to the bone; let me hear you crying
just for me," finished Lorin.
    Every person removed her clothes and threw money in a pile near
Lorin in gratitude for the performance that she gave to them.  It was a
night that all of them would remember for the rest of their lives.
    After everyone had left, Dragonfist appeared from nowhere.  He
helped Lorin to collect all of the monies heaped upon her after her
performance.  A total count was that Lorin had collected two hundred
seventy gold pieces Entwined Purple Worm.  This would benefit them to
help pay for their equipment needed to leave the area.
    At the Rose Petal the next morning, a horse was tethered to the
wood outside with a note tied to it reading:  To you Lorin, you touched
my heart and in only the most minimal of ways can I repay thee.
There was no name and no one claimed to have seen anyone tether the
horse.  It was times like these that just made her become a little more
cynical about people in general because Lorin always seemed to think that
there was some ulterior motive or hidden agenda behind every action.
    In the morning, Uok and Kurn had learned a new method for
creating their healing salves.  Informed that it was the first formulation in a
progression of healing salves, called healing salve I, they were instructed in
how to make it.  The ingredients were a half-ounce of sweetroot, one
ounce of acacia, and a quarter-ounce of woundwort.  Boiled in water for
ten minutes, the solution was placed in a stoppered vial and drunk when
needed for minor healing purposes only.  Kurn made three of them and
sold them to Vander for nine silver total -- Kurn's total cost to produce the
three healing salve ones.
    While walking through the forest in the waning afternoon heat,
Vander saw a healthy oak tree and tore it down.  Taking the strongest
branch, he felt that this was the piece he would fashion into his giant club
for their travels.  He knew that he would not have the time to finish
working on a two-handed sword that would fit his size, let alone work on it
while traveling.  He returned to the blademaster's shop excited to begin
working on his new project.
    Vander was a driven person.  When he made up his mind about a
project that interested him, he would put all his efforts and energies into
finishing that task and finishing it to the best of his abilities.  Just as well,
when Vander made up his mind about a decision or a person, that decision
was whittled in wood and etched in stone.  In his home clan, everyone
recalled the day Vander felt that it was time he leave the community to go
out in search of new people and culture -- any money and goods he might
pick up along the way were secondary he often said, although no one really
believed him.  When the clan woke up in the morning, they saw Vander's
belongings packed onto the back of the elephant, Borvak, he had trained
since he was a little giant. Vander's only reasoning that he offered to the
clan elders was that he felt that his calling was out in the regions
undiscovered by him.  Vander felt that he needed to see what was out
there and experience the real world.  There were so many things to do and
so many people to meet that he could no longer keep himself cooped up in
this little village dealing with the microcosm of petite problems that the
elders worked with every day.  The macrocosm of economics and politics,
interfacing with important dignitaries, and making profits were what drove
Vander.  Consequently, before the clan's mid-morning meal, Vander had
taken himself and Borvak from the town and left for the lands to the south
of Grolleg.  The lands of Vosta promised to be adventurous and profitable
Vander had been told many times by the cyclical arms and equipment
merchant who visited their town.
    On the evening of the eighth cycle tenth day, a mysterious woman
entered the Rose Petal.  Juhn noticed her immediately since there were
only two other patrons in the dining room at the time, seated in the corner
left of the front entrance and near one of the sets of windows.  As the
previous few days had been, today was no exception.  Clear and blue was
the sky.  Nary a breeze was in the air.  The town was kept relatively clean
by the local constable since a clean and reputable town attracted weary
visitors on their long travels; thus, no foreign odors filled the air.  A nearby
shop selling incense and potpourri filled the air with the sweet aroma of
peppermint leaves and rose petals.  Juhn quickly corrected himself when
he realized that it was the stranger who had such an exquisite scent.
Pulling the hood of her wool cloak off her head revealing long, radiant
blonde hair, the woman asked to see the woman named Lorin.
    Juhn knew from earlier in the day that Lorin had spent the entire day
at the brook on the outskirts of town and had already retired to her room.
The many clothiers in town, now having seen the preferred outfits of
Lorin, had stayed up all the previous night working on black outfits of all
sorts to give to Lorin to wear proudly.  He had seen the numerous outfits
thinking that it would take Lorin several hours to sort through them all.
Juhn had never seen such one person have such an impact on so many
people in so little time.  The last time he had bothered to ask about Lorin,
Luke told him that he was going to visit with Lorin and try to cheer her up
since she seemed a little depressed and exhausted from yesterday's
accomplishment.  In either case, he was not going to disturb her.
    Juhn looked away while cleaning a glass mumbling, "My gracious,
Lord's Lady, I can say where she is, but I do fear that I can not tell you
that she will see you.  I have been given such strictest measures to see that
her rest is not disturbed."
    Throwing her head back to fling her hair, and removing the clasp on
the front of her cloak, she replied, "I would then ask dear sir that you take
my coat as I will be here until I may see her."  She handed him her coat
under the impression that he would handle it for her.  "I believe that she
will see me.  Simply tell her that I am a friend of Mnurmak's."
    Juhn did not recognize the name Mnurmak, but he would do as he
was told by such a fair lady as this one.  He placed her cloak safely behind
the counter of the bar before heading down the hall to Lorin's special
chambers.   As he was walking, he thought about the woman and what she
had said.  He knew that the woman, or at least the scent, seemed vaguely
and oddly familiar.  It was a peculiar situation at least, especially since she
requested for Lorin, who had only been here for five days.  But it was not
up to him to concern himself with Lorin's affairs.  After all, for all he knew,
Lorin could be a mole, or a spy, for the local constable trying to gather
information and illicit affairs of the locals and the travelers.
    "Lorin," Juhn said, knocking on the door, "there is a woman here to
see you... I told her that you probably didn't want to see anybody, but she
wouldn't listen.  She told me to tell you that she is a friend of Mnurmak's.
I don't-"
    Lorin opened the door nearly immediately after she heard Juhn say
that this mysterious woman was a friend of Mnurmak.  Juhn was slightly
disappointed when he saw that both of them were fully clothed.  In his
heart, he had hoped that his son would wed this woman of such elegance.
Lorin had been the type of woman that Juhn had always looked for but
never found.
    "What did she say?  Is she still here?  What did she look like?"  Lorin
talked wildly giving the impression that nothing else mattered at this point.
In that flash of a second when Lorin heard Juhn, she was instantly focused
and mentally aware.  Lorin told herself that everything she would do for
the next twenty minutes would need to be remembered for review later
on.  She always went into a situation in some sort of control, and this was,
unfortunately, a situation where she was ill-prepared to deal with this
person.  Walking into the hallway, Lorin covered and sorted through
everything she could remember about the people and places that her and
Mnurmak had been, and about the people and places Mnurmak had told
her about.  Her posture improved as her back straightened and her stride
became more pronounced -- more confident.  One thing that Mnurmak
had told her, ad nauseum, was that one should always enter into a room
confident and smiling.  When someone was nervous about meeting
someone, a smile always made that person feel more comfortable and
more at ease.  Lorin put on her game face.  Whether or not this person
were actually of friend of Mnurmak's was not the cause for the game face,
it was Lorin's fears that she might give something about herself away to
someone she did not know.
    One of the things that Lorin valued highly was her own secrecy.
Lorin wanted to be the only person to know her.  Her world was skewed in
a way that no other person saw





Part II
Chapter III

Take a little caution
When you look my way.
See the emptiness in my eyes
And the evil thing that I bring.
            - Danzig

And if you feel that you can't go on,
And your will's sinkin' low,
Just believe
And you can't go wrong.
                            - Led Zeppelin

In the black sky, thunder sweeping under
ground and over water, sounds of
crying, weeping will not save your faith.
                            - Sisters of Mercy



    Uok described Egrize as a pleasant town.  There was not much to do
in the way of excitement.  Set along the Mykandishar River connecting the
western coast of the sea with the great inner lake, Egrize was a sleepy little
town of about four thousand people.  Egrize found itself in the lands
known as the Golgo Pakh, a loose confederacy of city-states found in dense
forests and rolling plains just north of the elvish territories of Belth.
    Golgo Pakh, itself, was a breakaway portion of the former InemOhk.
To the west of the Golgo Pakh was Vosta, the last portion of the InemOhk
to remain in its former state.  Being comprised of many city-states, the
Golgo Pakh continued to be a less than formidable foe.  Racially, like the
Golgo Pakh, Egrize had many humanoids and demi-humans dwelling in
the same area.  There were not to many people who had a problem with
this.  The same could be said for Madame Valmoritae, the overseer of
Egrize.
    Madame Valmoritae was an aging woman of undisputed grace.  She
was known for throwing the most extravagant parties in the surrounding
area.  Since Egrize had a harbor just a few miles from town, many of the
passing trading ships would dock to spend a night or two in the party town
of Egrize.  During the Belthan Green Moon Festival, the resident
population would swell to almost triple the current number.
    [Vander, Tarelas, Lorin, Uok, Dragonfist, Kurn]
    Pleasant.  Party atmosphere.  Harmless.
    Boring!  Shouted Dragonfist, the resident troublemaker.  During
their trip south to Egrize from the infamous Rose Petal Inn, Dragonfist
often played many tricks and jokes on his travelling companions -- much to
the chagrin of everyone else.
    Lorin broke out of her daydream.  She had been thinking about how
they had begun this trip.  They began as slaves in a slave pen, escaped
together, were told of great rewards in Egrize, travelled there together.
This last bit of information had come their way from the blonde haired
woman who had visited Lorin on that fateful day nearly one-half cycle ago.
    The blonde haired woman had come from Egrize on Madame
Valmoritaes personal steed, an awesome and stunning Pegasus of amazing
size.  This woman, who called herself Ueri, told Lorin that she had seen
her perform the past two times.  Under her breath, she told Lorin of how
she had also learned of their daring escape from the Zeffrin Slave Pens.
    Quite a feat indeed!  Ueri complemented Lorin, So how did you
get all of these very different people to cooperate with each other?
    Well, its not all that difficult when your only two options are either
death or escape.  We all pretty much knew what we had to do.
    It took a lot of effrontery.  A bit too saucy for me I must say, but
that is not what I am here to propose.  Looking around at everyone in the
Rose Petal, pausing for just a moment, she turned her gaze back to Lorin
and pushed onward.  Lorin, my dear, there is a woman by the name of
Madame Valmoritae.  I do not know if you have heard of her.  She is the
overseer of a small town about twenty-five to thirty days journey south of
here.  I have personally told her of your deeds and your talents.
    Lorin began to interrupt her to try and say something.  The look of
astonishment on her face said it all to Ueri.  For once, Lorin did not know
what to do.
    ...Please, I am late.  Let me finish.  Madame has a great job that
needs to be done and she is in near desperate need of someone who can
get this job done.  Such has been my task for the past two cycles.  I believe
that I have found such a person in you, Lorin.  You can do this for me.
There will be just compensation for your efforts as Madame is a fair
person.  One more thing, she will be throwing a party 28 days from now.
Show up at that time.  Please do not be late.
    With a whirl of wind and a waft of her perfume, she was up from her
chair and off through the door.  Lorin, stunned by the quickness with
which Ueri had left and abruptly ended the conversation, regained her
composure and, herself, ran out the door.  Dragonfist had caught this and
thought that someone had tried to rob Lorin.  He followed immediately to
help Lorin catch the vagrant rogue who dare bother his Lord.  By the time
that Lorin had reached the pasture where Ueri had pitched camp, all that
remained was the dust in the air from the alacrity with which the mighty
Pegasus had lifted itself and Ueri in the air towards home.  Lorin definitely
had been intrigued.  She decided that this was something for all of them to
discuss.
    Here they were some twenty six days later.  They were in a foreign
town, in a foreign land.  Everyone around them knew of different things.
While everyone had agreed to go with Lorin, she did not know of their
conviction.  While they had all sworn allegiance to each other as a group,
she did not know how deep that blood of allegiance ran.  Several times
during their travels south, they had to impose on themselves a move-at-
night rule because of the frequency of orcan slaving parties scouring the
countryside for people that were on the run, or for people that they did
not like.  They got into quite a few tussles with these parties.  Luckily for
them, they hooked up with a brazier who was also travelling to Egrize for a
party.  He had two wagons in his caravan.  Everyone offered to pay him to
let them stay in his wagons, but he would have none of it.  The old halfling
never even asked them why they wanted to stay in the wagons.
    Yep, even I have had a problem or two with the law myself.  Yep, in
fact, just last passing, I was in my home town and I was caught fishing on
the barons land.  I had a buddy of mine use some of his powers from
above put the fish to sleep and I would just cast my net and get quite a
good catch.  The baron always had his eye on me after that.  He he he.
    Except for Vander, more than unable to fit into the rickety old
wagon, and Tarelas, who joined Vander in scouting ahead, everyone else
rode in the wagons covered up by the many pieces of canvas and many
works of brass.  After this, the rest of the trip went smoothly with few
interactions.
    Needless to say, Lorin was surprised by the tenacity shown by her
travelling companions.  Even though they had had some tough times, they
had stayed together.  They had given each other support and help when it
was needed most.  Things were looking up for all of them.
    I think the large villa is the one were looking for, Lorin, chimed up
Tarelas with a snicker.  Maybe this Ueri wasnt making things out to be
just a little bit bigger than they actually are.  Tarelas and Lorin had been a
source of minor tension the past day or two as they neared Egrize.  Tarelas
had been growing slightly restless by their desire to shack up in this town
for more than just a couple of days.  He had been hoping that they might
change their mind and continue on to somewhere besides Egrize.  Besides,
Tarelas thought, I still have the Slavers to contend with.  They took the life
of my brother and my friends.  I will not allow myself to forget.
    When they reached the front gate, they were greeted by a smiling
hostess.  Ueri smiled warmly, her cheekbones warm and rosy with the
blooming spring weather.  I am so relieved that you could make it.  There
are still two days until the formal festivities begin, but I am sure that we
will be able to fill your time until then.
    Their rooms in the villa were more spacious than any place they had
dwelled before.  Each room was larger than the cell where they had been
kept as slaves.  They each had a personal bath, bed, servant, and barrel of
mead    .  This passified even Kurn who anticipated that nothing good was
going to come of this stay at Madame Valmoritaes villa.
    The next two days passed without cause.  Everyone kept to
themselves finding exploring the town and fulfilling their interests better
than the company that anyone else could provide.  Uok and Kurn did,
however, meet up at another apothecarys shop.  Both were trying to pay
some heavy cash to the apothecary for the knowledge of how to create
stronger healing salves.  In their minds, this was essential to their survival
on the road because they had no holy man to travel with them.  Still fresh
in the memory was their recent journey to Egrize during which, on several
occasions, they were forced to flee and evade medium sized orc and
human slaving parties because a good skirmish would leave them in dire
plight.  Uok and Kurn had gotten together on the side to plan on
expanding their wisdom of the herbalists art jointly to make as much profit
from their travelling companions.  While they were out for the general
good, there was no reason that they could not make a tidy profit while
doing so.
    It was only the next day when Uok and Kurn had gone to the others
to present to them their prices.
    I guess next time were in battle that youll take the front rank and
Ill just protect the rear and flanks.  Or, better yet, Ill just now fight at all.
Tarelas was extremely ticked off at Uok and Kurn for the idea of Services
Rendered Upon Payment Received.
    Maybe Ill just happen to forget that I can wipe out half an army
with one blow, piped in Vander, who, as well, was more than just a little
perturbed by this issue.
    That day, Lorin had gone out to the town square to mingle with the
inhabitants of Egrize and to scope out the general area.  Having donned
her better garments, Lorin checked out some of the local pubs of stuffy
repute.  One of her specific goals was to see what information she could
get about the general feeling of the people.  Lorin wanted to see if this was
a town where they could be spotted and picked up.  In her mind, just
because they had crossed the river to get into Egrize in the Golgo Pakh,
that did not mean that the slavers would recognize a weak, if nominal,
boundary.  The end result, from many chats with a few locals, and a few
coins forgotten on the bar, was that Lorin was able to clue in on what she
considered to be some key things.
    Primarily, some of the townsfolk of wealth told Lorin that fears of
the Slavers had been heightening recently because they had been making
stops in the harbor -- a practice uncommon for them.  Their deckhands
and their sailors were spending more than just passing through time in
town; however, they spent a proportionate amount of money.  This
concerned the wealthy landowners because the townsfolk and shopowners
looked the other way when the slavers came in flaunting their coins from
all different regions.  That the sailors got only seventy percent on all
currency made no difference to them, for they saw more money in a cycle
than these townspeople saw in a passing.
    Lorin picked up some other bits of interesting gossip from some of
the town talkers about the people who would be in attendance at this great
party being thrown by Madame Valmoritae.  She learned that Black Kerr,
one of Valmoritaes best friends, was, herself, a priestess and herbalist of
some repute.  A few of the other people in attendance were the local
guildmasters, Benaldos Bravos -- a retired paladin of notable fame from
the adventures earlier in his life, Ueri, Madame Valmoritae, Ro -- a monk
dispatched to Egrize from Membi Jur at Rivers Falls (the sister town of
Egrize), Dren Grewt -- head priest of the largest local temple, and several
other visitors from the neighboring parishes and territories.
    Of all the attendees, Lorin decided that she would scope out only
Benaldos Bravos, Black Kerr, and Korvan Gryth-porce.  Korvan had met
Lorin earlier in the day when she had arrived in town.  One of the
merchants that Lorin had been looking for was a clothier so that she could
aid herself in disguise if need be.
    The others had become aware of Lorins skittish behavior because
Lorin would often detach herself from them when they would enter
commercial districts, towns, inns -- anywhere in public.  Lorin never spoke
much of her business or her desires, nor did she ever show gratitude.
While everyone had become closer during their cramped travel from the
Rose Petal to Egrize, Lorin had consciously chosen to remain
uninterested.  This had come much to the chagrin of Dragonfist.  During
his time in the journey south, Dragonfist had become more of an introvert
to all his companions except for Lorin.  Try as he did to get closer to Lorin,
his efforts went without reward.
    And it was reward that he sought.  His thoughts were posioned by
the memory of the kiss Lorin had given him.  Had she felt nothing when
she did this, Dragonfist wondered.  Did she not have the same desires as
he?  By the end of the trip, he had become extremely agitated.
    Uok felt the need to say something to Lorin when they had been in
the back of the wagon by themselves one evening.
    Why are you being such a witch to the Fist?
    The firelight was to dim to see Uoks facial expression from where
they were.
    I know.  Its like I want him to just lay off.  I dont know what the
hell he thinks hes doing?  I would like to know where he gets off thinking
that I owe him something, Lorin said smugly.
    Maybe because he saved your ass; maybe because he protected you
and your hoarde of money; maybe because he wants to protect whom he
believes to be the most important among us... no, he would be guarding
me.  Or maybe he likes you -- although I have no clue why he would like
your sorry ass.  All you do is... all you do is.  Shrugging his shoulders,
silence fell in the wagon.
    Her cheeks slightly flamed because Uok had ticked her off, daggers
fired back to Uok with, Hey!  Im not the one whos sending out signals
saying Hey I want you.  I gave him one kiss as a way of saying thank you
and now he wont leave me alone.  For all I care, he could piss off.  I really
dont care about him.  Tell him to get over it and move on.  This witch is
not some barbaric love beast.
    Uok pretended not to be listening to her.
    Dammit Uok!  I dont know what the fuck your trying to prove
because I do more than anyone around here.  And if any of you lazy fucks
would get off your ass, and if anyone besides me did a little planning and a
little organizing, we would be a lot further ahead, Lorin insisted pulling
out some daggers on her belt.
    Woah there.  No need to get nasty, you know.  Its not like you
could get to looking any worse, Uok shouted jumping out of the agon
before he would have been looking any worse.
    Unfortunately for Dragonfist, he had been resting on the front bench
of the wagon and had heard the entire conversation.  To Dragonfist, he
interpreted Lorins mind as muddled and not clear.  Deep down in his
heart of hearts, Dragonfist knew that Lorin would turn around and come
to him.  He knew that Lorin would soon realize that it was Dragonfist that
she desired and no one else.  Looking up in the late spring sky, he began to
play games with the stars until he was sound asleep.  He slept with the
same nightmare as every night.  His torment continued, there would be
only a worsening change in Dragonfist over time.  And not even he knew.
    Lorin just wanted to figure out what piece of the puzzle she was in
this town.  This had preoccupied her thoughts the entire day.  At least, she
had deduced, she was not invited because she could spin a yarn, or strum a
tune.  Ueri had not asked her because she was rich, for there were many
other nobles and high-ranking officials who had money and jewelry that
they would wear at the party to make her realize just how much a pauper
she was.  Lorins curiosity came down to these two questions:  what drove
this Ueri and Valmoritae; what did they see in Lorin and her companions
that interested Valmoritae and Ueri enough to invite them here.  For as
much as Lorin asked this question to some of the patricians, rumors about
Lorins attitude that she was a snob spread throughout the small town.
The shopkeepers were telling everyone that this Lorin was looking down
on them with contempt.
    This rumor while not true did have some basis in fact.  Just after
Lorin had left the Lily Tavern, Lorin chanced upon Horvaths House for
the Dignified, an affluent inn where the richest townsfolk mingled and
spread their wealth to each other.  Waving her money in the air, she
entered Horvaths as if she had built it down to the last plank of wood.
What Lorin had missed was the word cultured that was implied by the
sign.  No one in the place took offense by her actions for some nobles of
better fate were known to act in such fashion; however, it was their normal
response to these people not to help them in any way -- regardless of the
importance or significance of need.  To them, Lorin was not different,
merely another flaunter stopping in to let everyone see just how much
money she had.
    Now this was not Lorins normal behavior.  Since the time when
Lorin and Uok had spoken, her entire attitude had changed.  At the Rose
Petal, Lorin was a team member.  She played with her heart in mind,
being cautious not to step too hard on anyones toes.  Right now, Lorin
appeared to be acting with callous disregard with those whom she
interacted.  Her actions were not thought out, her wisdom not applied to
those with whom she spoke.  She thought not even of herself.  In some
oblique way, this was Lorins way of self-destructing, of showing everyone
else that she was in some state of angst, in desperate need of someone to
step in and snap her out of this catastrophic change in personality.
    Dragonfist had kept careful track of Lorins movements following her
and trailing her wherever she had gone for the past two days.  He was
going to make sure that her business was his.  There was going to be no
mistake that he was going to be involved in everything Lorin did, even if it
meant that he would have to be behind the shadows.  Dragonfist assured
himself that he would do the right thing for Lorin by helping her out in her
travels in town.  Having scoped out the merchants shops before Lorin
awoke on the second day, Dragonfist too had found Korvan.
    Excuse me, goodly patron, but to you I will not be help until after I
have had my plate.  Korvan glanced in the direction of the back door to
his house that adjoined his clothiers shop.  If you would return in the
wink of the eye, I will gladly outfit you then.  Returning to his plate of
steaming ham and eggs, Korvan paid no further attention to the silhouette
in the store.
    With malice an aforethought, Dragonfist unbuttoned his small belt
pouch on his right hip.  He nible fingers played with the silk twine in the
pouch.  His black body moved swiftly and silently.  Wrapping his hands
around Korvans neck with the silk twine, Korvan repeatedly tried to call
out.
    Take my money.  Its all under my bed.  I dont need it.  Leave me
alive.  Please, I dont want to die.  Korvan pleaded with his tears.
    The twine grew tighter and began to strangle its victim.  Dragonfist
took perverse delight in the playful torture.  He played with Korvan
loosening and tightening his grip.  How he would have fun this morning.
Lorin would soon learn the value of his friendship -- without justification,
without reason.
    A small whisper in his ear, and a sharp object in the back of his neck,
all Korvan heard was, Later this morning, a woman of remarked beauty
and composure will be entering your shop.  She will be looking for the best
clothing.  This is clothing I am sure that you can provide.  Make her stay in
your store pleasant, merchant.  Make sure that her every whim and desire
is fulfilled.  Hope and pray that I not return lest you want your head on a
pole... You did not see me.  You did not hear me.  Act as you normally
would.  A hint of something out of the ordinary to her and it will be your
heart on the ground.  Got it?  A wide grin of joy spread across
Dragonfists face in the recollection of what he had just done.  Oh, how
easy I will make her life for her.  If only she could know first hand.



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