Chapter 14 Artifacts & Secrets

"Another one, Cap'n?" A heavyset man in a greasy white shirt leaned against the old bar, staring at the attractive brown haired man across from him.

"Fill 'er up," Captain Issac replied, pushing the chipped mug towards the guy, who took it and began filling it from a tap under the bar.

They were in a small room that hadn't been cleaned in years. The only three windows were covered with dust and dead bugs. One of the tables lay on its side, against the wall; the other table a few inches from it. A couple chairs were scattered around the tables, one or two still in somewhat good use. A tall, well built man dressed in all white played (MIK'S INSTRUMENT HERE) while three barely dressed females danced seductively around the room. Several lit lanterns and candles were the room's only light source.

"There you are, and not watered down like them prissies do to their drinks." The bartender slid the drink back to Issac, spilling some of the beer on the stained counter.

"That's why I hired you," Issac said, toasting his beer to the man.

"Your family's been taking care of mine for a long time," the bartender said, patting Issac's shoulder.

"My uncle took care of your father. His grandfather took care of your great grandfather. This recipe's been passed down for decades," he said pouring himself a drink.

"Other brewer's water down their product so it takes more to get even just a little buzz off it. My family's never been about the money, only our quality." Issac only nodded, he had heard it before, several times in fact. Whenever he came around to the private bar, which lately was often, the bartender would at some point start bragging about his beer. It wasn't that he didn't like the man, he did actually, and his beer even more; but there was a lot going on these days, sometimes too much, and coming here was his only getaway.

The room had belonged to his family for decades. It had always been a secluded, secret place that wasn't meant to be found, at least not by the city's commonfolk. A place for the current Captain of Barad Undo to get away. Like his many grandfathers, and his father before him, Captain Issac had a taste for a strong brew. Even more than a good drink, he enjoyed the company of a half naked woman. The less clothes she wore, the better. He liked to watch them move, and the shape of their bodies. He wasn't married, he didn't want that right now, but his parents and family had been harassing him for years to start settling down.

"Mikael, come on! Play something that's not so damn depressing," Issac shouted at the man in white while taking a sip from the mug. Half of its contents were already gone.

"Sure thing, Captain." Came a man's sexy, and sultry voice. Mikael went back to playing his INSTRUMENT. The females changed their moves to match with the up beat tempo. One of the girls began walking over to Issac, moving ever so lightly and gracefully it was as if her feet never touched the floor. She gently stroked his shoulder to get his attention. She smiled at him when he turned to look at her, her golden brown eyes sparkling. She turned around and began to sway her hips back and forth, toying with the silver fabric she used to cover up. Issac gazed his brown eyes on her, mesmerized. She was a fairy, his favorite, and this one in particular had been his favorite for months now. If he were to ever take a wife, she would be it. Of course it wasn't allowed in his family though, it was up to his parents and relatives to pick a woman for him, and it had been that way for centuries.

He ran his fingers through her long blonde hair, his other hand pulling her closer to him. Her skin was so pale, she gave off a little light of her own. White sigils, barely visible, were marked all over her body. She was perfect in Issac's eyes. Fairies were a lot like elves; their bodies were fit with small hips and waists, and breasts that were big, but not too big. The only difference was their height; while female elves were tall like their male companions, fairies were tall like humans. Many people confused fairies for half elves, because of the human-like height, but fairies had an aura, a sort of charm-like spell they could turn on and off when they wanted.

The girl did not resist when he pulled her in, she leaned in with him as his hands gently ran over her hips. With one hand, he moved up to one of her breasts, cupping it firmly in his hand. She shifted in closer to his chest, and softly moaned something in his ear. He clenched her silver fabric in his other hand, and smiled at her as she pulled away. He rubbed her smooth abdomen one last time before placing a few gold coins in her hand. She turned to walk away, giving him a wink and one last smile as he patted her behind.

"You seem tense tonight, Captain. Anything you want to talk about?" The bartender's voice disrupted Issac, who was still watching the fairy. She now danced with the other girls, two elves. The three of them danced provocatively around the man dressed in white. Issac could swear the man was gay, the girls didn't even seem to pull any interest from him, the man just continued to play his music with a smile on his face.

"Do you know what tonight is?" Issac asked, remembering the bartender had spoken to him. He slid the empty mug back to the heavyset man, which he filled again. This was the one thing Issac liked about this man. While he talked a lot about himself, he was also a really good listener, without the added advice or opinions. Captain Issac found the solutions to his problems best when he could just vent them out while someone just listened. The problem was most people just handed out their advice, or what they would do in his situation, which usually caused the Captain concern if his idea would be the best decision or not.

"Uhh, Wednesday?" The bartender wondered where Issac's head was at as he filled a mug for himself.

"It's the Blood Moon." Issac knew from the confusion on the man's face he had no idea what he was talking about. It was pretty common though, only the Barad Military or those in training knew about the involvement with The Cursed War.

"Every two hundred years, there's a full moon that is red. Every time it comes, something bad happens. Two hundred years ago marks the end of The Cursed War. You know about that war at least right?"

"Yes. That mad wizard died, didn't he?"

"Right. But not before he caused a lot of damage. The night the last Blood Moon hung in the sky, Minas Ellalas fell. A lot of people died that night, and up until that last battle many more had lost their life. There are rumours that a descendant of that mad wizard, Smaka, is alive. And is building an army to finish his bloodline's work." The Captain had a worried look.

"I have heard them," the bartender said, taking a sip of beer.

"But they're just that. Rumours."

"There is always some truth to a rumour," Captain Issac said forcefully.

"I suppose so. But, I also try not to worry on things, until they actually happen."

Issac thought to himself. What the bartender said did make some sense, but he had learned from a young age it was always better to be prepared, to have a plan or several plans. He grew up believing this, and it made things easier to handle as he eventually became next in line for Captain of Barad Undo.

A sudden knock at the door brought Issac out of his thoughts. If at all possible, there was an even more concerned look on his face, as he wondered who it could be. Not many were supposed to know about the private room, and it had been hidden from the cities commoners, and travelers since the beginning.

"Look," the bartender lowered his voice, and leaned in closer.

"The city is fine, or you would know about it, and you wouldn't be sitting here right now trying to relax. Your only worry is about the Barad, your family. Anywhere else is not your concern."

Issac nodded, some of his worry gone. He realized it was the first time the man ever gave his insight, which he was right. There had been no news of his city under attack, or of his cousin's city. He hoped the knock on the door wasn't someone with bad news.

"Captain? It's me." Another knock with a familiar voice. Issac was partially relieved.

"It's open Tristan, come in."

It took him a few minutes to budge open the old door. Issac sighed to himself, what the boy had in brains he lacked in strength. Finally, he heard the door creak as it opened.

"I hope you being here means you got good news," Issac said over his shoulder, he had returned to drinking his beer.

Tristan smiled at Mikael as he walked by, who returned a slight bow. Tristan was well known by many as the Captains personal scribe, and healer. He quickly rushed by the girls, ignoring them.

The bartender stared in shock as Tristan pulled off his cloak and set it on the countertop. He adjusted his robe as he sat on the stool to the right of Issac.

"Have a beer," Issac said.

"I'm good, Sir."

"Pour him a drink," he said again, more forcefully.

"Sorry, it always takes me a moment to get over how much you two look alike." The bartender grabbed a mug and began filling it.

"Somewhere along the line, we're related," Issac said between sips.

"What in the world is this on your wrist?" Before Tristan could say anything, Issac noticed the brown beaded bracelet on the scribe's wrist.

"They're beads. It's a bracelet," he told the Captain. Issac grunted, slamming his drink on the counter.

"It's for girls," Issac told him.

"Only girls wear those things. Take it off, and don't let me ever catch you wearing one again."

Tristan hesitated at first, until the tension from Issac became too much. He toyed with the beads and the string, then slowly pulled the bracelet off, tucking it gently into the front of his robe pockets.

"So, what's the word from the Vale Wood elves? Are they finally going to help us?" Issac asked, acting like nothing just happened.

"Yes. A few of them will be coming here from Pontm Vale in a few days. They expect you and some of your men to be ready. They will take us south, to their allies in Typry Vale. The Vale Wood elves have reason to believe something wrong is happening in the sea out there."

"The Sea of Eurynthia. It is near Cronemoor too." Issac set down the empty mug.

"There is still resistance from the A'eternians though."

Captain Issac nodded, and thought. Mikael's music still played behind him, and he could hear the girls giggling as they danced with each other.

"Okay," he finally said, getting up from the stool. Tristan followed suit, and pulled his cloak over him.

"The Vale Wood elves will be fine, for now. Let's head back to my quarters, then gather up my best men. Find Caleb and Cyrus. Alert them of our guests. We'll want to be packed and ready to go before they arrive." Captain Issac pulled on his own cloak, a blue with orange lining, and his and his cousins deity immersed together on the back. He dropped ten gold pieces on the countertop, thanked the bartender, and headed for the door. The heavyset man took both their mugs, noticing the young boy hadn't touched his at all. Not wanting to waste it, he drank it out of frustration.

"Don't stay up too late guys," Issac called to them as he walked out of the small bar. Tristan behind him, smiled one last time at the man in white, who only winked back.

Naivanna steadily walked barefoot over the cold concrete floor. She stopped at the animal skin rug beside her bed, letting her toes sink into its softness. She sighed, the feeling of the rug helped relaxed her a little. Shaking, she set down the near empty cup on a small stand, bits of crumpled up herbs soaking against the inside. For six months she had been drinking a special tea Commander Bathe made to help her sleep, but lately he had to increase the dose. She was tired, and her body felt ready to rest, yet she dreaded closing her eyes. She sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling out the fabric that held her long, black hair together, then began brushing it from a comb on the stand. Her clammy hands wiped the sweat clinging to her neck. She stood up, removing the light undergarment that stuck to her skin. Her body temperature had been above normal the past few days. After having several examinations with nothing wrong with her, she told herself it was most likely a side effect of the increase of the sleep aid. Or at least she hoped that's what it was. For a few moments she stood in front of the window above her bed, staring at the fullness of the bright moon. She pushed open the window, letting the cool light breeze hit her face. The Blood Moon felt oddly familiar to her. Where it made most people uncomfortable, it made her calm. She was educated in the history of these moons, and she must have either been just a baby, or still in her mothers womb the last time it hung in the night sky. Despite everything that had been going on lately, she felt at home admiring the full red moon. Smiling, she gazed at the moon a little longer. It was like it was trying to speak to her in a language she couldn't understand. She sipped the last of the tea, and then snuffed out the candle, feeling her way to her bed.

Naivanna knew where she was the moment she saw flames all around her. She dreaded this nightmare, and right away she fought to wake herself up. What bothered her even more, was how happy she felt being there among the flames. The first time she had this dream, months ago, she thought she was in one of the fire realms. With the many volcanoes around her, and the river of lava that flowed unending, but she soon learned it was one of the many layers of hell. Every inch of her body felt hot, like she had a fever, but she knew she was fine, enjoyed it even. This nightmare had become familiar, and while she continued to fight, she embraced what would come next. Barefoot, she walked the road of burning coals and embers, the lava in the river bubbling as it covered everything in its path. The trees came next, the dead trees. A favorite memory on repeat. She didn't even need to watch where she walked. Her feet stepped over the roots as the lava current burned them to ashes.

Lead us.

Then came the many whispers, in unison. A naked woman covered in rusty chains suddenly appeared thirty feet in front of her. She had hooves for feet, and two horns upon her head. Tiny creatures covered in flames flew around the hooved woman, throwing miniscule balls of fire wherever they pleased. Naivanna thought they looked like the ends of the large fires, running off on their own.

Lead us, Naivanna.

The whispers came again as several more beings and beasts appeared in front of her. From large to small, she recognized most of them; not from the recurring dreams, but from sketches on scrolls and skins. The ones she did recognize, she knew them as monsters from the many layers of hell. The larger ones, the rulers. Monsters so terrifying and gruesome they would scare any race on the living realms. Naivanna forced herself to be scared, but there was that small part of her, that always grew each time, she didn't fear them at all. If anything, it made her happy. It felt like home to her, the home she had been searching for ever since she was a young high elf. She did not turn in horror at their misshapen bodies, or their oddly placed spikes and tentacles. She lusted upon the ones with flames that sparked off their bodies. She wanted to rule them, and they wanted to be ruled by her.

Lead us.

Their whispering became louder as they approached her. She felt herself smiling at them all as they grouped together in a circle around her.

Naivanna, my love. One voice boomed over the others. She knew what was to come next, her heart raced with fear. Or maybe in climax, she wasn't sure which. The booming was slow, as if it was a gigantic creature walking. The booms became louder as the monsters in front of her turned around. Naivanna knew, or felt, that the booms belonged to the King of these beings. The Father of Hell, and all its unknown layers. Perhaps her father even.

Another loud boom woke her from her sleep. Her body shook in fear, her heart still racing just like in the dream. Drenched in sweat, she did her best to untangle herself from the cotton blanket. She didn't even remember pulling the covers up over her. The blanket itself was soaked, and finally free, threw it on the floor atop her undergarment. The racing of her heart slowed, as did her trembles. It felt like someone had been in her room. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark, but she saw nothing, not even a shadow. She tried to run her fingers through her long hair, but like the cotton cover, it had somehow become tangled and in knots. Her hair too was covered in sweat, and she pulled it in strands away from her neck. She felt warmer than before she had gone to bed, maybe she was coming down with something.

She got up, and went towards the open window, hoping a breeze would cool her off some. The window was closed shut. Surely, she opened it before she climbed into bed? Did she close it in a sleep walk, or had there actually been someone there? She felt delirious, too much thinking, and the nightmare was still fresh in her mind. She opened the window again, the Blood Moon still high in the night sky. How long had she been asleep? It had felt like forever, but she saw no signs of dawn. The breezes were cooler now, and after she had calmed down a bit, she opened all the other windows in her room. Four others to be exact, and on different sides of the room. She closed her eyes as she felt the breeze from each window, and soon her body temperature was normal again.

Her body began to feel tired again, like she hadn't been sleeping at all. Back to the bed she crawled, and was soon fast asleep. When she'd wake in the morning, she would remember the first dream, but for some reason she would not remember the one she was about to have.

Naivanna found herself in the middle of a large clearing, surrounded by what she could only assume as shadows. A forest she figured; in the far off distance she could see hundreds of *TYPE OF TREE* in every direction. She wondered how she got here, as she could see no clear path, no way to walk safely through the woods. The fuzzy shadows around her began to take form, and soon the shapes of people took place. Hundreds of people gathered closely together, in black robes or black cloaks. Hundreds of cultists, followers, and makers of the darkest magic known. Some stood, talking quietly amongst themselves. Others sat on the dirt floor, or stumps of old trees. There were eyes that watched her, smiles along with them. It was common that others found her attractive, but these stares felt eerie. Wrong, because they came from the darkest of souls. She caught sight of another group staring, pointing at her, and secretly talking. Uncomfortable with the looks, she turned around. Another group of people, holding different objects out in front of them, as if they were comparing. She suddenly noticed the weight of something in her right hand.

"What'd you bring?" A young cultist asked her. His eyes were as dark as his robes, several scars upon his face.

"Uh." She realized he was referring to the thing she held in her hand. It was a good sized mirror with gems encrusted around the edges. She could feel right away this wasn't a common mirror, that its age had to be over hundreds of years old.

"An antique. Very nice," the young cultist said, but Naivanna barely heard him. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her hair was no longer a sleek black, but a silver grey. She only stared at the man, not sure what to say, as he rambled on.

"It's not as good as what Ashnik has though. He thinks what he brought; a small dagger wrapped in a carved snake with emerald gems for eyes will work."

"Work? Will what work?" She asked, inspecting her hair in the mirror.

"Summoning the Master? His soul is alive, but he needs to be brought back in his shell. You are a cultist, aren't you? 'Cause you sure pass for one." He gave her a disgusted look and walked off, veering towards the crowd in the middle.

Naivanna then realized her hair wasn't the only thing that wasn't normal. She bunched up her robe in her hand, she was wearing black, just like the others. She never wore black, it was only meant for grievance days. She grabbed her belt, tiny vials of odd colored liquids in each one, fastened tightly. Some claw of a large bird, an eagle or hawk perhaps. Resisting the urge to cry in fear, she felt the other side of the belt. A curved dagger sat snug inside a black leather. Her robe had many pockets stitched into it, herbs crumpled inside. Herbs she recognized right away as poisonous ones. Before she could scream, the cultists around her began moving forward, shuffling in closer together. Who they all came for, this Master, or whoever was about to make their entrance.

Naivanna walked forward with them, either curiosity or not wanting to let fear over rule her, she wanted to meet this person face to face. Many people pointed towards the edge of the trees, a black hole that hadn't been there before, suddenly appeared. Many of the cultists cheered and clapped as a six legged panther-like beast emerged from the portal.

"He's here." Naivanna heard the excited whispers around her.

The dark beast casually moved towards them. It's tail, well if it could even be called that, was split in two. The ends curved inwards, like the bulb on a flower. Naivanna inched closer, she wanted a better look at this creature. Was this the Master they were all so eager to meet? Around her she could see several of the cultists holding up what they brought, cheering still. On a closer look she saw what the beasts' tails held inside their ends, and it was nothing close to beautiful. Hundreds of tiny razors rested in each bulb, Naivanna's intuition was kicking in now, and she could feel those things were poisonous. Not once had her intuition been wrong, and she soon felt like she needed to be here.

It wasn't long until a second figure appeared from the portal. A man, Naivanna thought. Everything hushed around her, everyone silently watching, and waiting. Closer the figure came, and the cheering started up again.

"Master!" Came more excited cries. Naivanna heard a man near her mutter something about young cultists sarcastically. She heard an older woman's laugh. The Master was covered in a large black robe, so large that no one could see his face, hands or feet. Naivanna was certain she could see a glimpse of a bony finger. That young cultist was right, she thought, the Master needed a body for his soul.

The man coughed, waiting for the excited chatter to die down.

"Settle down," he said.

"Settle down, my children."

"Cultists, followers and makers of the dark, I thank you for coming. I did not expect such a huge turnout. I am filled with respect, that after all these years, so many of you are still loyal to me," he continued on, the creature, most likely his pet, laid down.

"I have asked you here because I search for three important things. One of them holds no use if the other two can't be found. I'm in need of two items. Of what they are, I can not tell you. When I died, the spell to bring me back was through these objects randomly. I do not know what they are, but I will know when I touch it. When placed next to the skeleton of my body in the wasteland where I died, I will return once again, and we will finish what was once begun!"

The crowd around her erupted into whoops and cheers. Many raised their hands, holding what they brought, screaming that they brought what he needed. Naivanna ignored the tug she felt in her gut, her intuition was nudging her again. The robed man moved to the furthest left of the crowd, his pet right behind him.

"You. Let me see what you brought." He pointed at a middle aged man, who showed him the dagger. Naivanna saw that it was the dagger the young cultist mentioned. Again her gut nudged her, and again she ignored it.

"Hmm," the Master said, letting the cultist turn it over and over so people could see it.

"It is possible this might just be one of the things I'm searching for."

Father. Her intuition nudged her so hard it was almost like someone had punched her in the stomach. Naivanna could no longer ignore it, this man was her father. Though she had never known her father, or her mother for that matter, she felt it clear as day.

The robed man now began moving back to the center of the crowd, his loyal pet right behind each step.

"Of course you all know what the third object is. It is not hidden in anything, but simply a large book. A black book with all my findings, and most powerful spells. I can only assume that when I died, our enemies buried it somewhere. Once I have this book, I can bring my twin sons back to life, to aid us in our fight."

He stood still for several moments, searching the crowd in front of him. Naivanna got the feeling he was sensing who the most loyal would be.

"Help me, and I will help you. Fight by my side, to your death if it comes to that, and I will be there to bring you back. I have found immortality, a gift from our dark God, (ENTER HIS NAME HERE) No sword, or any other weapon can kill me. No arrow will slow me down. No spell can stop me. All I need is my body returned to my soul, and Brine will be ours!"

Cheers erupted again, and Naivanna found herself amongst them, her hand raised high in a salute.

Rameros slept and dreamed as centaurs do, unaware of the bright red moon hanging high above the treetops. Unaware of the forest he camouflaged himself in becoming colder by the minute. While other races dreamed of themselves in their living form, centaurs dreamed of themselves as orbs of light. Each centaur had their own unique color, so they could distinguish between one another in the dream state. While the majority were one distinct color, a few hundred were several colors mixed together. These were considered special centaurs, most of them ancestors long gone now, who had mastered more than one skill set. Rameros' was a swirling ball of dark purple and light blue. The blue, because even without the Poulian relic, his aim was always on point. The darker shade of purple was for the nature magic he had learned from his grandmother, the Mystic Iniza.

Rameros floated through the centaurs dream realm, overhearing the conversations between his tribe. He was surrounded mostly by white orbs, with tiny shades of yellows; the young children who had yet to master their skill, let alone find one. It had to be near midnight, which was well past their bedtime, so he wasn't surprised when most of them greeted him as he drifted by. Rameros continued to drift on by the other orbs, he knew where he needed to go, and it was deeper in. His orb coasted along quicker, the buzzing of several conversations as he went by. Soldiers discussing which female had the better body, parents looking for advice on how to scold the younger centaurs, and even some of them playing games. The Sentinel knew who he was looking for, and he had already on several occasions spoken with his God, Poulian. It was Poulian who reached out to him first, and shortly after the Gods very own bow appeared to him.

He traveled for what seemed like awhile, until he came upon an open clearing, a small stream beside it. Poulians orb, an all white swirling with every color imaginable around its edges, sat watching a waterfall flow into the stream.

"There's trouble ahead," he said before Rameros could greet him.

"I thought we've been in trouble for awhile now," Rameros told him.

"That was nothing," Poulian laughed.

"This. This is so much more, and the people of Brine are so far behind. Unaware of how long it's been making its way through the underground."

"What can I do?" The sentinel asked eagerly.

"Nothing. This darkness is too far grown to be stopped now."

"I don't believe that for a second," Rameros said angrily.

"Our tribe won't be of any use," his God told him.

"We're not like our neighbors, the Icewood fairies. Or the A'eternian high elves."

"How so?" Poulian asked curiously.

"We believe the end of any race is eventually the end of ours. We don't believe we should be the only race to make it on their own. You said 'Brine.' Not the mountain dwarves of the Spires, or the hill dwarves of the Highlands. Not the humans. Not the elves. Brine."

"Clever boy."

"So, how can I help? There must be a way our tribe can help."

"There is one thing," Poulian began.

"As far as I know, they haven't gotten to it yet."

"They? Who's they, and what is it?" Rameros asked.

"They are children of lost souls. Children who seek power. Just like this tribe has a God, so do these children. And it; it is a mirror."

There was a pause of silence as Rameros remembered all of the reading he did as a young centaur. He read that every race had its own God, and while some (mostly the humans) had no belief anymore, the Gods were still there somewhere, amongst themselves in their own realm. At least that's what Rameros wanted to believe, his God Poulian was here with him right now anyway.

"A mirror," he finally said.

"Our tribe doesn't use them. It's a humans' tool."

"Or an elves," the centaur God added.

"This isn't just any common mirror, or one that was recently crafted. It's an antique, most likely as old as the Cursed War. I don't know what it looks like, but you if anyone, would know it's the one you're looking for when you see it. If they get it first, there might not be another chance for us. And by us, I mean Brine," Poulian continued.

"I understand, Poulian. I will look for this mirror." Rameros' orb had started to drift away, when Poulian stopped him.

"And, one more thing, child. When you wake, you'll want to head back the way you came."

Rameros thought this was confusing, didn't his ancestors say to head to the middle of the forest?

"But," he began.

"I know what was said, but it would be best for you to head back the way you came. To that small clearing beside the river. With the dead campfires."

Rameros knew of the area, it smelled funny, and he had hurried on quickly as the smell wasn't sitting well with him.

"I'll go now then."

"No. Finish your rest. You will need it. What takes two legs six days to get through this forest, only took you almost two. You will need to replenish the energy you have lost through the camouflage."

"Okay," Rameros said and then Poulians' orb had vanished.

Throughout the night, Riswynn drifted in and out of sleep. Occasionally she heard the young boys trying their best to keep to whispers, and also Nim hushing them when they shouted a little too loud. For a while, she could hear Disia's slow and steady breath, with a tiny snore from time to time. Beside her, Lila slept heavy, calling out for some man in moans. Later, Riswynn guessed close to midnight, she could still feel Nims energy. No idea that a Blood Moon hung in the night sky, huge grey clouds carrying Belronde's first snow storm hiding it. She could hear Nim shift her positions several times, and then she could feel that Disia had awoken, joining Nim in her watch.

Riswynn had started to get up herself, wanting to help, but Disia only told the dwarf to lay back down, they were handling it. Hesitant at first, she grumbled to herself. Seeing that nothing had really changed, and still feeling tired, she laid back down. Riswynn closed her eyes, but sleep didn't come like she thought it would. The thoughts in her head weighed her down. Worried thoughts, angry thoughts, disappointed and betrayal thoughts. Soon, she drifted back into her sleep, but it wasn't long until a lot of shuffling and moving around near the door woke her back up. She opened her eyes, Disia and Nim were still on their cot and chair, but they didn't move and were quiet. They were watching something across from them.

"Go on," a voice whispered.

"They need your help. I'll keep watch on the girls."

Igin. Riswynn said to herself, thinking it sounded a lot like her cousin.

Riswynn heard several footsteps walk out of the small room, and then it was Disia softly trying to wake up Lila. She closed her eyes, trying to go back to sleep. It's just a dream she told herself, or she was so mentally exhausted from all her thoughts she was imagining things that weren't really there. But she felt someone shaking her roughly, and then Disia was whispering into her ear.

"Come on, Ris. Wake up, we're getting out of here."

"I want to sleep." Riswynn had opened her eyes for a second, but then closed them again. She shifted herself away from the other body and almost fell off the cot. Disia's strong hands caught her and pulled her back over, and began shaking her harder. Riswynn tried swatting at her, but the tall woman had hands like a mans, and built like one as well. The dwarf could hear Nim trying to get their archer up, but was as successful as Disia was.

She heard more movement at the door, and could feel two more bodies had entered the room.

"Grab their weapons, we need to move fast," the whisper that sounded like Igin's came again.

I must be really angry at him if I keep wanting to hear his voice. Riswynn told herself. There was a banging noise from the weapons rack as one of their weapons fell to the floor.

"Dammit," came someone who tried to whisper, but wasn't very good at it.

"Martia! Keep quiet, we can't be heard."

Martia? Why would I be mad at her? Riswynn wondered, and began to wipe away the crusts in her eyes.

"Sorry," Martia said, trying her best to whisper.

Riswynn's body suddenly was wide awake. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, and the innkeeper was never good at keeping her voice down. The dwarf sat up, and came face to face with Disia.

"Good," she said.

"You're up." Riswynn wasn't sure, but it looked like Disia had a small smile on her face.

"Suse, dim that light on the table." It was Igin, Riswynn thought, getting to her feet.

"Suse, we had your things, but," Riswynn began.

"It's alright. I got them. Igin brought them to me. Thank you." Suse walked over to the table, the chairs the young boys were sitting on were empty, the orb Nim made still shining brightly.

"I wouldn't touch that light if I were you." Nim realized the "light" Igin was talking about was her orb on the table. Disia had taken over for her in waking up Lila, who was still sleeping like a log. Nim's spell must have been too heavy for the small girl.

"Unless, of course you want to get electrocuted and burned at the same time." There was a teasing tone to Nim's voice as she walked over to Suse and the table.

"I certainly wouldn't want that now," Suse laughed, picking up on the high elves' jestering.

"What's going on?" Riswynn asked. She was now fully awake, and could hear the shouting coming from outside.

"A distraction," Igin said, giving her a weak smile.

"A distraction? What kind of distraction?" Riswynn could see his demeanor had changed, and it dawned on her that he had been pretending earlier.

"Gyde. He's playing mad man, thought I don't think he needs to play it so hard," Igin chuckled lightly.

"Oh, Igin," Riswynn said, running over to him and wrapping her arms around him. He accepted the embrace, and hugged her back tightly.

"You don't look so well at all. Please, what's really going on?"

"I'm sorry, Ris." Small tears formed in his eyes, eyes that were no longer filled with happiness.

"I'm sorry. I had to pretend. We're in trouble. Fathers' in trouble. They say he's alive, but I don't know how much of their words are true. Tane is a dangerous man, and that cultist. I've no clue what he's planning. You must get help. Please. Go back to The Wand and Bell, tell them. Have them send someone here. Tane's taking over cities and building armies. You'll need to go to Eadnoth Keep too, he's already formed an alliance with the King there. He's from the Barad Military, and I think he plans on ambushing them. That cultist he's with, he's just as bad. If not worse. He put a curse on Gyde, when we wouldn't give them gold. But he's quiet, too quiet, and I think he's planning something. Something Tane doesn't know about. You gotta help, Ris. I'm so sorry, and I love you," Igin blurted out as much as he could. Riswynn could tell by the sound of his voice, Igin was in fear. When he rambled on like he did, she knew it meant he was nervous. Her cousin rarely ever pleaded or begged, and she could see in his eyes he was in serious need of help.

"Come on, little one. You gotta get up, we're getting out of here," Disia was still trying to wake up Lila, who just kept shoving her away.

"Lila, if you don't get up right now, I'm going to carry you out of this city over my shoulder."

Lila bolted upright.

"I'm up!" She shouted, still trying to shove Disia away. All of them laughed, except for Igin.

"We packed some extra supplies for you. Healing vials, food, and blankets." Suse stumbled around in the dark as she tried to give Nim a bulky knapsack.

"Sorry about the gold and the gems," Igin said, catching Lila's attention.

"I'm already going to be in a lot of trouble, and Edgar sent out a cultist bird last night with a message. Those birds are fast, so once Tane gets the message, Wulfa will teleport them both back here."

"My blue gem is gone?" Lila whined. The others could see another one of her moods about to happen. Igin's eyes darted around the room, he had no idea how to respond to this kind of behavior.

"I'll find you another one. My home's mountains sometimes have them. Or maybe Commander Biri can find you one," Riswynn tried to console her, but it did no good.

"But, I want that one."

An uncomfortable stillness filled the air between them. Riswynn didn't know what else she could say. Disia just about had had enough of her episodes. Igin didn't know how to handle her, and Martia and Suse avoided her by distracting themselves with the packing.

"When somethings not meant to be yours, it means there's something much better for you down the road," came Nims soft, gentle voice.

Lila stood still, quietly picking at one of her fingernails. The others stared, waiting and hoping her episode had passed.

"Okay," she finally mumbled.

"My bow and swords?"

"Right there on the table with the other weapons," Martia said to her. With the tension gone, her and Suse returned to packing. The halfling shuffled her way over to the table, and placed her weapons in their rightful spot. After scanning for her small bag, she spotted it, and snatched it up. Holding her bag close to her chest, she waited by the door.

"You're going to need a coat, young girl," Suse said to Lila in a mothering voice. Igin kept popping his head in and out, trying his best to rush them.

"Oh! Your coats, Martia. Did you need them back?" Riswynn said, already making her way back over to the cots, where they used the coats as pillows. Disia helped her by grabbing the ones her and Nim used, but only tripped in the darkness. She swore as her leg banged into one of the cots' metal bars.

"No, you'll need them. Winter's coming early this year. There's a nasty snowstorm in the sky."

"It should actually start snowing very soon," Igin said.

After Disia and Riswynn put on their coats, they gave one to Nim, and one was tossed to Lila.

"Are you.." Riswynn started to ask.

"It's fine! I can always buy more," Martia said, waving her hand at Riswynn as if to hush her.

"You mean steal." Igin's laugh was hoarser than usual.

"Hey! That red-headed poor excuse for a leader takes a lot from us already, it's the least he can do. Besides, he hasn't noticed it yet," Martia said rather bluntly.

Riswynn couldn't help but laugh, her distant relative always did have a feistiness to her. Suse helped Lila with the fur coat, as Igin continued to hurry them.

"Come on, you girls are taking forever."

"It's so pretty," Lila said, sticking her hand outside the door. Tiny snowflakes had started falling from the sky, and the halfling was catching as many as she could with her hand. Igin swore at the sight, and began helping the girls pack.

"If only you had helped us from the beginning," Martia said to him while helping Riswynn put her pack and bedrolls on her back.

"Hmph," Igin grunted, a small smile on him.

Riswynn hooked her *warhammer* to her belt, and grabbed Nim's shield. She smiled at her cousins banter, she certainly missed this. They headed on their way out the door, Nim helping Disia through the dark. Once outside, Riswynn could see the "distraction" her cousin had been talking about. In the middle of the city, most likely around Nosin's home, which was now Tane's, a bright light could be seen. It looked like a fire was burning, Riswynn thought.

"Is that a fire?" Riswynn asked as quietly as possible.

"Yes," Martia said, not even trying to lower her voice.

"It's okay," Igin said, seeing the worried look on her face.

"It's only a small fire, and sacrifices sometimes must be made."

They walked to the south entrance in silence, Lila enjoying trying to catch the snow.

"We'll need to keep to the smaller streets," Igin said after several minutes.

"Should we be worried?" Disia asked, keeping up with the whispering.

"I hope not. As long as we keep to the smaller streets, less chance to be seen. Most of the guards who are on duty, are dealing with the distraction. Just keep your voices down, and hurry quickly to the south gate," Igin said, eyeing Martia at the end.

"That look better not of been for me," she replied, though she had lowered her voice a tiny bit.

"What about that other Commander with you last night? The one that looked like a bear," Nim asked, walking side by side with Disia. Lila kept veering away from the group, her eyes on the sky for once. Where she came from, she had never seen snow, and while she did not like to walk in it, she thought it was beautiful the way it floated down from the sky.

"Last I knew, he was passed out drunk somewhere," Igin said.

"And as for that other guy, MacNay. He's probably out there by the fire, doing nothing but barking orders." Igin laughed at himself, as if he made a joke. Disia had to pull Lila back over in front of her and Nim.

"Little one, pay attention! We gotta get out of here together and alive," the tall woman scolded.

"Sorry," Lila muttered, keeping her eyes ahead of her from there on. Soon she found enjoyment in watching the small white stuff cover the tops of the dwarves' heads as they walked in front of them.

They hurried through the smaller streets as quietly as possible. Now and then they came across a dwarf, or two. Igin and Martia smiled and nodded at them, receiving a nod in return. While Disia looked concerned, Nim felt they would be fine. The passersby's random thoughts came into her head, she noticed the more she was casting her spells, the easier it was for her to hear others' thoughts.

"No need to worry, Disia," Nim said softly, taking hold of her hand.

"They won't say anything."

Disia looked at her a moment, then understood, smiling at the high elf walking next to her. As they rounded the corner of the end of a street, Riswynn saw a young child briefly in one of the windows. She raised her hand to a half wave, the child looked right into her eyes, and then ran away from the window.

The south end of the city's stone wall soon came into view, and the odd group turned left down the snow covered dirt road, heading towards the gate. They darted behind buildings, doing their best to avoid the street lamps; metal poles with wired lanterns hanging off them. There were more of them here, Riswynn noticed, most likely because they were walking down one of the more common streets. She also made mental notes of where this army lacked. While the men were built, and appeared strong; they didn't seem to be very bright. Not once did she see a man walking along the wall, otherwise she didn't think they had any chance of escaping. Instead they used the middle of the night and the now heavy falling snow to their advantage.

"This army isn't very smart," Disia said behind them. She too, had been paying attention, and was now aware of how much these men lacked. Suse almost slipped, but Igin and Martia caught her, while she also hung onto Igin. Riswynn could see how much they both cared for one another. She thought it was a shame that two people couldn't be together just because they came from different backgrounds. Love is love, and they weren't even hurting anyone. It made her sad.

"Well," Igin began, helping Suse steady herself.

"No one's tried to attack Tane and his army since he took over. I mean, I don't even think anyone knows we're in trouble. So, his soldiers aren't uptight. Plus, when Tane or Wulfa aren't around, they tend to goof off more. Perfect timing for a distraction if you ask me."

"Did you see four men from The Wand and Bell come through here?" A thought suddenly popped into Riswynn's head. If Commander Biri did know Wulfa was here, she wouldn't have sent Riswynn and her new companions here, let alone her own men. Those moments of intense anger she held towards the Commander, were now directed inwards. It was stupid, she told herself. How could she not realize it sooner? Like many times before, she let her emotions rule her. Her parents, namely her mother, had told her often since she was just a young mountain dwarf, to not get caught up in her own emotions. Doing so would often result in regrets of said behavior, which Riswynn was still accustomed to. It was one of the skills she had yet to master.

"Briefly, yes. One of them looked strangely similar to the Commanders twin." Igin stopped mid-sentence, quickly realizing what had been going on.

"We need to hurry, now." If Igin was in a rush before, it was nothing compared to now. Realizing things were a lot more serious than he thought, he wanted to get Riswynn and the others out of there as soon as possible. If they didn't make it back to Cronemoor, then everything he was risking that night, would be for nothing.

"Ris?" Igin had turned around to see his cousin hadn't moved at all. She stood there, snow covering her armor, staring at the three girls behind her. They all shared a look of shock, as if there was a secret between them, and only them.

"Ris? Everything okay dear?" Martia had turned around now as well, concerned for the worried looks between them.

"Well," Riswynn began, swallowing several times.

"There was this wyrmling's cave," Nim said for her, sensing the sadness from the dwarf.

"We killed it," Disia said proudly.

Nim glanced at her. The woman had said we instead of herself. If she hadn't of disabled the young dragon with HER JAVELIN????, they most likely would have been in a far worse situation than what had actually occurred.

"There were three frozen bodies inside the cave, next to the dragon's horde," Disia continued on.

"And that one we found outside!" Lila exclaimed, wanting to share some sort of input.

"And you're sure it was the four men from The Wand and Bell?" Igin asked, his face now too wrinkled with concern.

"Wait! You killed an ice dragon?" Martia shouted loudly, admiration in her voice.

"Yes," Riswynn said shakily. She had pulled the bag off her back, and was struggling to search for something. Nim, Disia, and Lila moved in closer to her, as if they were an emotional shield to protect their dwarf companion.

"I found this in the cave. Next to your fathers crown." Riswynn's hand shook as she pulled the locket she found out of the bag. At the mention of his fathers crown, Igin was reminded of earlier that evening, when she had handed it over to him. It had taken all he could not to show any emotion at the sight of his fathers crown, when in fact his heart had sank.

He peered at the locket in his cousin's hand, the chain dangling off the side of her palm. He recognized the symbol of Cronemoor's small army right away. A bell overlapped by a diagonal line, which was supposed to represent the wand, was poorly etched into the piece of metal. An even harder to distinguish were the letters w and b, placed above and below the wand. He had started to open it, but Riswynn stopped him. She, herself, hadn't even opened it. She felt it was an invasion of privacy to look into someone's personal belongings without permission.

"We need to see who it belongs to," Igin persisted. Riswynn of course hesitated at first. It didn't sit right with her to look into the locket, but as uncomfortable as the feeling was, there was another part of her that knew he was right. Besides, whoever it belonged to, was clearly gone, and how wrong could it be if only she was trying to find out whose it was so she could tell Commander Biri. Her last thought made enough sense, so she nodded, and watched closely as Igin opened the locket. The others had crowded around them to watch as well.

Inside was a colored drawing of a young high elf. The sketching was so meticulous that it highlighted the young girls best features. From her long, sleek black hair, pale complexion, and small lips, to her long eyelashes and sparkling blue eyes, the young girl could have been a Goddess. Clearly, whoever had etched the symbol on the locket was not the same person who drew this. As beautiful as the photograph was, none of them recognized the girl.

"She might be an A'eternian," Martia said.

"What? How so?" Igin asked.

"She's stunning. Female A'eternians usually are. To help their charm, you know."

"Pfft," he grunted.

"She looks like every other elf to me."

"That's like saying us dwarves all look alike." Riswynn laughed as Martia gently punched Igin's shoulder.

"Well, you kind of do," Disia said, trying her hardest to be serious. The three dwarves laughed even harder, Suse joining in. Nim had a smirk on her face, while Lila had no clue what they were joking about.

"Either way," Igin said, regaining composure. He had remembered what they were doing, and started to hush them. The noise from the middle of the city had died down, and it was hard to see if a fire was still burning. The night had turned a foggy grey from the snowstorm, and it obscured their vision.

"Now more than ever we need to get you back to Cronemoor," he said, handing the locket back to his cousin, and started moving again. Riswynn continued to stare at the locket in her hand, it was obvious the girls still wanted to talk about the picture, but Igin just kept on walking. Martia only shrugged as Riswynn returned the locket to her bag, and hoisted it on her back. The girls then hurried to catch up to him.

It wasn't long before they had come in close proximity to the southern gate, the snow now falling heavily. They stood behind one of the city's market stalls; Nim,Suse, and Disia having to crouch down. Igin pointed out a solitary soldier in front of the exit, a young boy pacing back and forth. He told them to wait there a moment, as he rushed off towards the soldier. They watched quietly, none of them moving a muscle, as the dwarf appeared to be speaking to the boy. Igin's hand motioned towards the middle of the city, and soon the soldier took off running. He then took the young boys place, pacing in front of the exit. Once he got Martia's attention, he nodded at her, and then waved them over. The six girls scrambled over the snow, rushing themselves without slipping.

"Don't forget to cover your tracks," Martia told the three girls as they started to make their way across the now snow covered clearing. Riswynn had stayed behind, standing with Suse and Igin, she was reluctant to go.

"I can't just leave you here." She knew something bad was going to happen to them once Tane found out they had escaped.

"You have too." Igin tried his best at a soothing voice.

"How?" Emotions began to overwhelm her.

"How can I just walk away, knowing I might not ever see you again?" Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Why am I the only sensible one?" Igin did his best not to cry with her. He knew he was going to be in trouble, but maybe, just maybe he could find a way out of it. At least enough to still be alive after it went down.

"The sooner you go, the sooner you get to Cronemoor. This isn't just about me anymore, Ris. I live, things get worse. I die, things get worse. Right now, you and your friends are Belronde's only hope. Please, you must go." His sad eyes tinged with tears as he pleaded.

All Riswynn could do was nod.

"Don't stop to rest. Keep going as far as you can, until you can't no more. Tane's army has horses, you don't." Were the last words Martia told her as Riswynn slowly walked away, joining her companions.

It was still dark, grey, and cloudy, the snow showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. Yet, the girls were determined to make the six day trip back to Commander Biri and a warm room in three days.