Young Writers Society

The Greatest Treasure Storybook

The Greatest Treasure (GT) is the third book in a trilogy.

In Four Treasures, a group of heroes battled to avenge their loved ones. In the final battle, a massive magical cataclysm occurred, destroying the magical net known as "The Weave."

In Journey into the North, a group of heroes embark on a quest to locate something known as the Wizards Tome: a book that details the first construction of The Weave. They hope to use it to re-establish the old magic. While the group manages to secure the Tome, they are later betrayed by one of their members, who leaves with the Tome. The group is then ambushed by soldiers and a number of the JIN group is taken away.

After a year has passed and nothing has been heard from the JIN group, another group is sent out to once again to acquire the Wizards Tome and finally restore magic.

The Rules

The rules are simple:

No team-killing!

People take it very personally when you kill their character. Doing so ruins a writing relationship, which is what we're all trying to build. So, play nice.

No God Characters

Please, do not make your character a god. Let's keep our characters within believable bounds.

Fantasy Setting

The default setting is in a Medieval Europe setting. As the characters travel, the setting may change. If you want to be a Japanese Shogun, you might end up waiting a long while for us to come by.

Magical Creatures

Light Creatures are more appropriate for this story, since most of the traveling would be done during the day time. If your character type is dangerous to the group, then it's probably a bad idea.

Magic

It existed and was used widely before the cataclysm, but very few people now understand it. Spells that decimate armies are unimaginable. Complex magic is never seen. Magical creatures will know magic appropriate to their characters, but anything outside instinct would be a long shot. So a unicorn would know all about healing, but nil about starting a fire with magic.

On Writing Style

This is an RPG, so players may write in any style they please. First person, third person omniscient, your choice.

On God-Moding.

God Moding is vague. Here is the rules for it.

1. Other authors may control another authors character. We're all equally authors on this story, so the characters that are here are also communal.

2. Authors can not write for any characters than their own. I can't make a post for any characters other than my own.

3. Authors can not undo the actions of their characters unless the post in question was against the character profile. If no complaint is made by the author of the character within a reasonable amount of time, then we'll keep going.

4. This isn't a turn RPG, it is a real time RPG. That means that you aren't obligated to stop and wait for the author to reply to your character. This way, we don't wait three days for a response.

Inactive Characters

If a character hasn't been posted for in a long time (a month) then it will go into the NPC pile. Another writer may choose to write for that character until the original author returns. If the original author returns, the character once again returns to his or her possession.

Character Profiles

Should be posted in this thread.

Storybook Discussion

Is in this thread

Storybook Summary

Will be posted in this thread.

“Well done, my friends.”

The last of the demons was slain. The High Magus was gone, thrust into his own Gate by the force of Henry’s quarrel. The Tome of the First Wizard lay open on the ground where the High Magus had stood, and Valin bent down to pick it up.

“The Priesthood is defeated. With their Magus gone, they will be disorganized. Easily overthrown.” He paused a moment, and let that sink in.

I knew it to be false. The priests of Bane, when thrust into a situation like this…would cause as much damage as possible before being snuffed out. I let the group have their victory, however. They needed it.

“Alden—report to Harris. Let her know that we have the book, and that we are on our way back.”

The gryphon nodded. “I’m on it—Stillman!” Becky turned to face Alden. “You’re in Valin’s charge.” She nodded, and with a flap of his great wings, the beast was off.

For a moment, no one spoke. We were all exhausted. After traversing the trap ridden corridor to the tomb and battling the invincible Golem, then facing the “elite” of the Priesthood of Bane, and finally a torrent of demons from Bane’s Plane itself, we were spent. In the ruins of the ancient graveyard, we stood in silence. Finn stood beside me, and I let my arm slide around her shoulder. She didn’t flinch away. Her head turned, and our eyes met. I nodded slightly, and squeezed her shoulder. Then I let go. I turned my back on the group and walked away, toward the small river that ran to the South. I felt their eyes on me, but no one called out for me to stop. Even if they had, I would not have hesitated for a second.

I only stopped walking when I reached the river bank. The gates of the graveyard were still in sight, behind me, but the group was not. Trees blocked much of the view of the graveyard. The river itself was rather wide, almost twenty feet across where I stood. It was maybe ten feet deep at this place, and I could see all the way to the bottom.

“Seraph.”

Valin’s voice from behind me shook me from my thoughts. I hadn’t heard him follow me.

I glanced over my shoulder to see the elf striding toward me, his feet gliding across the ground with that unnatural grace. His arms were dropped to their side casually, his blade hanging from his belt and swinging slightly with each step.

“Something’s wrong.” Valin’s voice carried a note of question, but I knew there was no question, here. I looked away from him, back to the river.

“How long has it been, Valin? Thirty years?”

I didn’t see the elf nod, didn’t even hear him move, but suddenly he was at my side.

“Three decades, yes. Far too long, my friend. I barely recognized you, at the palace.”

I smiled slightly. “Yes. You, however, are timeless.”

Valin laughed a little. “Thank you, I think.”

There a moment of silence. Our attention was held by the river and the trees, whose leaf patterns created sparkling effects of sunlight on the grass beneath our feet.

“Where did you go, Seraph?” Valin suddenly broke the silence.

I did not answer him. He didn’t need to know.

“I’ve always considered you a brother, Valin. We’ve fought side by side, spilt the blood of those that would spill ours. That forms a certain bond, don’t you think?”

I saw his nod in my periphery, but he didn’t say anything.

“Blood Brothers. Where I come from, there is a great emphasis placed on the value of blood. Family. Brotherhood. Kinship.”

He nodded again. “Family is important. Perhaps above all else. There are exceptions, of course.” Valin turned his back on me. It was the only chance I needed.

“Blood is everything, Valin. And for this...I’m sorry.”

He barely had time to blink, let alone react, before my arms wrapped around his neck, one arm coming under his chin, the other locking the first at the elbow and pulling up, bringing my arm against his windpipe and constricting it.

Valin thrashed mightily, his lithe body quite deceiving of his physical strength. My body, however, was representative of my strength, and I easily held him in check as I slowly crushed the breath from his lungs. His mouth open in a silent shout of denial, and his fingers were wrapped around my gauntlets, trying to pry my arms away from his throat.

All at once, his body went limp in my grip. I eased him to the ground, dragging the body to a tree before depositing it there. I let my hand drop to his chest and closed my eyes.

“Blood is more important than friendship, Valin. The question is...is your friendship strong enough to do what must be done?”

The flapping of great wings drew my gaze skyward. A wide silhouette passed over me, and I instantly recognized the shape of a gryphon.
Within seconds, Alden had landed next to me, with my hand still on Valin’s chest.

“What happened?” he squawked in that annoying blend of bird and mammal.

I feigned concern.

“I don’t know–get some water from the stream while I check him for wounds,” I said. The gryphon spun around without question and walked to the water’s edge.

Alden was not Valin.

Before I fully realized what was happening, I felt my blade drive through the gryphon’s back, between his wings, and out his chest. He screeched in surprise and pain, then pulled away with a futile jerk. My sword slipped out of him, and he fell away. The spark in his eyes was quickly fading, but the gaze of incredulity was unmistakable. Then he fell limp.

I kicked the corpse into the river. When I looked up from the water, which was as peaceful as though there had been no disturbance, another shadow descended upon me. A smile came to my face, when, in my younger days, a snarl would have in its stead.

The last thing I saw before the clouds swallowed the landscape whole was a small army descending upon the cemetery.

One Year Later...

The wagon quietly left the city.

Ria drove the wagon. Next to her was a small gryphon.

"Why did we need to leave so early?" the gryphon asked.

"We have a long way to travel Kira. We need to spend as much time moving before it gets dark."

"How far will we go?" Kira said.

"I don't know Kira. I don't know."

Slowly but surely, the wagon went North.

"Oy! Banite!" A short gruff guard barked, kicking the chained figure awake.

"Bastard" the figure said lifting its head of its chest glaring at the man with cloudy eyes, yet unable to do anything do anything to the fact he was heavily chained to the wall, forever standing.

"What was that? I think you'll have to speak louder." The guard scoffed

"Maybe you should come closer" The man said smiling his long greasy grey hair hanging in his face. "trust me, I don't bite. Much" he said chuckling to himself.

"Creepy, freak." The guard responded clearly unnerved as he gripped his sword and backed away.

"How's your arm?" The man said nodding towards the guard's stub with a smile on his face. The guard drew his sword placing it at the man's throat.

"Shut up Banite!"

"tsk tsk tsk, Temper temper. How long's it been a year hmm? Since i took you arm and almost escaped. Damn, it was a good bit of exercise; I also remember a certain man screaming out for his brother." The prisoner said staring down the blade. The guard gritted his teeth, sheathed his sword and proceeded to punch the man in the face.

"I'd have killed you by now were it not my orders" The guard said angrily spitting on the prisoner.

"I'd have killed you by now were it not these chains" The man said as the blood dripped off his chin. "So, Joanne, how's your wife, did her coffin fit?" he said playing on Joe's weaknesses, infuriating him more. Joanne threw a strong punch but the man moved his head, dodging it; leaving only the solid stone wall which joanne proceeded to hit.

Exhaling sharply the guard proceeded to swear up a storm, fuming he stated "I will kill you one day Sirloaz".

"Looking forward to it... Joanne"

Becky had the ceiling memorized. There was one thin crack in the cement that ran from corner to corner. Near the opposite wall was a tiny hold from which greenish water dripped constantly. The stone was stained brown directly above her bench. Becky liked to think that was rust, not anything else.

The door slid open, and as always, Becky stood up hopefully. A gloved hand shoved a loaf of bread and a jug of water in through the crack, grabbed the empty jug from the day before, then retreated. The door clicked shut seamlessly.

Becky wasn't sure how long she'd been locked up or who else had been taken prisoner. Adrian had been, for sure. Sirloaz too. There was so much she didn't know. After Seraph disappeared, things had happened quickly, and she wasn't able to keep up.

Harris's betrayal had surprised her, but it didn't amaze her. The general did what was in her best interests, and the group had apparently become quite a danger.

She sighed, then reached for the bread, grimacing at its staleness. At least the water was clean.

Becky wondered why she hadn't been chained. Harris probably didn't perceive her as a threat.

She's probably right, Becky thought. I'm useless.

Everyone who cared about Becky always got killed. It was like she was cursed. Her parents, her brothers and sisters, and, most recently, her master.

Becky gritted her teeth and made a vow. No-one would ever get close to her again.

Adrian groaned in protest as he woke up. He was stripped except for a lousy loin cloth for dignity. Adrian had never expected Harris's betrayal, then again he hadn't expected Seraph. No one had even his old comrade never suspected this. He sighed and wished his dreams could last forever.

Adrian hadn't counted days in the mouldy musty cell. It was small and box-like. He remembered his attempts begging Becky to escape and run away. She'd ignored him. Adrian still didn't understand emotion he felt, but for all his discomfort he worried more about her.

A guard came in and spat in on his bread, before saying "Where's your God *Now*?" He did consider hitting guard, but now they had wore him down.

The guard left sneering "I thought so!"

The scars on his back were all wounds of his disobedience, oh how they stung He felt the scars, the ragged marks of torture and malice.

Adrian lay his head down and slept, least when he slept he wasn't in pain.

Finn was very well aware of the fact that magic didn't exist anymore, or at least not the way it used to. All right, to be completely honest, she was still a little fuzzy on the details--but magic wasn't really around at all these days. That didn't damage her certainty that someone from that godsforsaken group had bewitched her. How else could she explain the fact that she was still lurking around in this equally godsforsaken town, waiting for something to happen?

She'd evaded capture through a fortuitous combination of luck and skill, and had fled the scene. Sure, it wasn't the bravest thing she'd ever done, abandoning them to certain death at the hands of that terrifying army--but Finn had never claimed to be a hero. She looked out for one person, and one person alone--and that was Fionnabhair Chant.

That didn't explain why, plagued with guilty nightmares, she'd finally given up and made her way to the town in which Harrison's devilish little jail sat. But here she was, moving from odd job to odd job, having abandoned her outlandish, male clothing for more traditional women's wear (much to her chagrin), waiting--waiting with increasing impatience for something, anything to happen.

She was getting damned sick of waiting, she thought for not the first time, drawing the back of one hand across her forehead and picking up a few laden trenchers at the cook's nagging. "'M goin'!" she muttered petulantly, blowing a lock of auburn hair out of her face, and hurried out to the main room of the tavern.

She never thought she'd even entertain this notion, but... what she wouldn't give for a friendly face right now!

It was very dark when the wagon rolled into town. Ria had felt every bump. The seat was as hard as one could expect from the millage. Kira was also suffering, but she said nothing.

Ria saw why when she looked at a poster on the wall of the tavern.

WANTED: Alden Novoir

DEAD OR ALIVE

This Gryphon is extremely dangerous. Only the best trackers will be able to pull this off.

1000 gold Reward

It was enough to take her breath away.

"Kira, I will go get a room. Stay hidden in the wagon."

Kira snuggled under a blanket and Ria went inside.

The tavern was busy; but the innkeeper was present.

"May I help you ma'am?"

"I need a room for the night."

"How many?"

"One." Ria snapped.

"Number 3," the Innkeeper said. Ria took the keys.

The room had a single bed, but was in otherwise good condition. It also had a window, Ria opened the window, before going outside.

"Come on Kira," Ria said, grabbing the bundle with Kira in it. She then took it over to the window, and; making sure it was the right room, dropped her onto the bed.

Ria then gathered her gear and went inside. Kira was undercover when Ria entered. Ria closed the door and locked it.

"Okay Kira, stay here. I am going to lock you in. I will be back soon, the person that sent the letter said that he would meet me in the tavern. I will bring some food back with me. Okay?"

"Okay," Kira whimpered. Ria closed the window and drew the curtains. Then, she left the room, turning only to lock it. She then walked over to the tavern, to look for her mysterious contact.

Leaning against the bar counter, Alana pushed a few dark brown curls out of her face and pursing her lips with thought, she looked over the tavern visitors, which consisted mainly of dirty, drunken men who had a hard time keeping their hands to themselves, a few young fella’s trying to be men, and the usual gamblers.

Running her hands down her low, green corset top, to her scarlet red skirt that reached just above mid-calf, she smiled to herself. She blended in quite well with the whores milling about, though she knew she was extremely different. While their spirits were broken, she was full of quick retorts. While they were meek, she had a temper. She was very different indeed. She sighed. She shouldn’t have to be here, working like a common bar maid.

Suddenly she felt a strong arm encircle her waist. Whipping around, she faced a tall, but surprisingly well-dressed man. He was grinning with satisfaction.
“Get your filthy paws off me, you half-wit drunk,” she snarled, her eyes flashing. The man’s grin was quickly wiped off his face, and changed with an expression of something akin to disbelief and awe. For a moment she thought he knew what was good for him, but suddenly he guffawed loudly.

“Why, this one’s got spirit!” He said, to the younger man, who had obviously come in with him and was standing behind him. The younger one didn’t look very comfortable. He kept glancing at the dirty men drinking around him like they would infect him.

Poor little rich boy, she thought to herself. Trying to slip out of the taller man's firm grip, she only succeeded in making him laugh harder, which, of course, only made her even more furious.

A gloved hand grabbed the man's wrist and pulled him off of the woman. "It ain't very nice to be treat'n a woman like that. You call yourself a man?"

Alana looked at the man who was helping her. He had spiky blond hair, a black leather jacket with no undershirt, and a glazed over look in his eyes. She also noticed the jug of wine in his hand. He was obviously as drunk as the rest of the men in this bar, but something in his eyes told her he was different.

The man replied in an angry voice, "You'd better let go of my arm or I'll break yours."

A spark of interest flickered in the new man's eyes. "You'll break my arm you say? Will it feel anything like this?" He tightened his grip around the mans wrist until a sharp snap was heard followed by his scream of pain.

(Just to keep things from getting confusing, the newcomer is Zel.)

The younger man ran up to punch the newcomer. Zel smashed his wine jug into his face. The young man fell onto a nearby table, knocking it over. It was made of hard material so the only thing that might have been broken was the man's skull.

Zel turned back to the man whose wrist he broke. His hand still held a tight grip around the man's arm. "What was that you were sayin? Somethin 'bout breakin my arm?"

Valin sat in the dark corner of the tavern, drinking heavily.

He felt somewhat relived, actually, at returning to his "roots" as a rogue, assassin and sell-sword. No one knew who he was, or where he came from, unless he made it known...and he liked it that way.

Over in a far corner in the front of the tavern, near the bar, a fight was breaking out, apparently over a woman. Whether she was a whore or not Valin didn't know...but she sure looked like one. Eventually, there was a victor, and it was a tall stranger, who was just as drunk as the others. He had blond hair and a leather jacket, but Valin didn't know much else about him, except that he was a hell of a fighter, if sloppy. He'd have to remember that.

Next to him, two men were arguing over an apparent cheated hand in cards.
"GODDAMN, YE SONUVABITCH! DIDJA THINK YE'D BE ABLE TE GE' AWAY WIF CHEATIN' ME, DID YE?!" a tall, burly man with bright red hair and a barrel chest and arms yelled, as he got up from the table and grabbed the other, smaller man up from his seat.
After a few minutes, they began to fight, knocking over their table, and chairs, and various other objects--sending flagons flying everywhere.

One flagon hit Valin in the head, smarting. He wiped the ale off of his face, and just sat at his table, continuing to drink, contemplating. All of a sudden, the bigger man threw the other man on to Valin's table, upturning it, and his flagon of ale with it. Quick as lightining, Valin stabbed the smaller man in the chest, withdrew a throwing dagger and threw it through the barrel-chested man's heart. As he fell to his knees, Valin righted his table, and said to the dying barrel-chested man
"That should teach you some proper manners, now won't it?"

The place had turned into a war zone. Ria dodged as a flagon smashed into the wall.

"This is a dangerous place milady, you might want to take a seat with me. It is in the corner and we may talk privately." Ria turned to see a ranger.

"Lead on." They walked to the table.

"Do you mind if I smoke," he asked.

"Go ahead," she said. He took out his pipe and lit it.

"Who are you?"

"It would be safer for me if you didn't know."

"And it would be safer for me if I did."

"My name is Randall. I was caught in the middle of a fire and Alden dove in and delivered me to safety. Recently I was employed to start searching for a gryphon and it didn't take very much to guess who they wanted me to look for."

"How did you find me?"

"That is my secret. Please don't look so alarmed, it might attract attention. It is enough that I found you."

"What else?"

"There is very little to go on. We have found some signs of Alden, but he's hiding very well. For my part, I will only acknowledge the obvious signs. I have discovered something else though: he's not the only gryphon in the woods." This caught Ria's attention.

"I didn't know that there were any other gryphons."

"There are some, but they stay very far north. It's unusual that they are this far south."

"Looking for Alden?"

"Everyone else seems to be. I don't think anyone has found him yet."

"How do we find him?"

"Alden was last seen traveling with a group of heroes. They may know more about where he is. The group was ambushed, some were captured and some are in hiding. Queen Harris has been looking for the others, but not as hard as she's been looking for Alden."

"So where can I find these heroes?"

"One of them is here right now."

"Which one."

"Do you see the elf?" Ria looked over to see an elf drinking from a flagon while two men dragged a body away from his table.

"His name is Valin Norovir; he was one of them."

"How do you know?"

"Milady, when a person stays at an inn one day, they are a traveler. When they stay at an inn for two days they are visiting. When they are here for a week, they are looking for a place to work or live. Longer than that and they are living in the tavern. This elf has done none of this. He must be here for another reason. He listens to the hunting parties come through bragging about what they may or may not have seen, but he contributes nothing. Furthermore, he is obviously a talented warrior, but he rarely uses it and to my knowledge he isn't a mercenary. The only other thing he can be is a hero that is interested in Alden."

"So you think he is an ally?"

"He may be able to help more than I can. I must continue to hunt Alden, helping you overtly would bring us both great danger."

"Which room is he in?"

"Room 13."

"Thank you Randall. I'm sorry," Ria said, before slapping him across the face and leaving hurriedly. There was a roar of laughter as Ria left. Well, at least it looked genuine.

Ria waited for the waitress and ordered some meat, while thinking about what Randall had said. When the waitress returned, Ria took the meal back to her room.

Quickly dodging a small jug of whiskey that came flying her way, Alana moved out of the way of the fight. Turning to her "rescuer", she frowned slightly.

"I was handling that just fine by myself, thank you. I hardly need help from another drunk." She said icily, flicking a few rebellious curls out of her face.

When Harris's men had captured her, something had happened. Becky tried to remember the moment, but couldn't. She tried again, from an earlier time. Adrian had been there. They were a few miles from the cemetery, a few days after Alden's death and Seraph's disappearance.

"I should have killed him, Becky! I had the chance so many times. I even suspected once!" Adrian paced back and forth, agitated.

"This en't your fault, Adrian. No one 'ad a clue." Becky stood about three yards away, her hands on her hips.

"I did!" Adrian said. "You saw. I thought he was up to something when I saw the priest's tattoos. If I had only done something!" Adrian stopped pacing. "I could have killed him."

"I doubt it. 'E's really strong." Becky winced. "I mean, he's extra, extra strong."

"At least, I should have tried. It's my duty!"

"Getting killed's your duty?" she demanded. His words had upset her. "Yeah, because that really would've really helped!"

"No, but-"

"Enough people are dead! Why you got ta be so eager to go jump on to the pile of bodies?"

He didn't respond. He was looking off in a different direction, frowning. Becky followed his gaze. A group of eight or so men were approaching, wearing Harris's uniform.

"Stay here. I'll go see what they want," Adrian muttered. Becky obeyed, watching him go. She couldn't hear exactly what was said; just muffled voices. Adrian seemed confused; at one point, she was sure she heard him yell, "What?" Suddenly, one of the men hit him with a club. Becky gasped and raced forward, feeling on her belt for her sword. It was gone; she had dropped it in the cemetery, after the battle. Becky swore, and grabbed her dagger.

From the center of the cluster, she saw Adrian's face. "Run!" he shouted. "Becky, run!"

"You en't serious!" she screamed. She grabbed the nearest man by the shoulder and swiped at him with her dagger. He smirked, raising his club again, but she dodged.

Adrian fought bravely, but didn't have a chance against the other seven. They hit him until he was still, then turned on Becky, who was still trying to stab the first man.

That's when it happened. Fury clouded her vision. She remembered charging, taking down at least two of them, at which point she supposed one of them had managed to hit her in the head with the hilt of his sword. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something else had happened in between.

Becky heard footsteps outside her cell, and pressed her ear to the door. It was probably a pair of guards, patrolling. She heard talking and laughter.

"Let me out!" Becky screamed, beating her fists against the wall as hard as she could. "Let me outa this!"

She heard a crack, then felt a blinding, white-hot pain in her hand. Clutching it, Becky curled up on the stone floor and waited.

Dreffan was proud to be an Emissary of Lord Belfast. Up until four months previous, he didn’t even know the King knew he existed. The two Blood Guard that flanked Dreffan were naturally silent, their mounts padding along behind Dreffan’s. The young man let his hand slip down to his hip pouch, where the three slips of parchment bumped lightly against his side with the gait of the horse he sat astride.

You are to find Valin Norovir and Fionabhair Chant. the eighth son of Belfast’s voice drifted through Dreffan’s memory. They will likely be travelling together, in or near the prison-town of Baldrin, for a number of their allies are being held within the prison itself. You, Dreffan, will be acting as a Politcal Emissary, representing the Blood Plains, claiming to be retrieving a group of prisoners from the prison who are wanted for crimes against the Blood Plains. The falisty of the situation was not lost on Dreffan. When you reach the prison, deliver this note, Belfast has handed him a slip of parchment, to the gatekeeper, head gaoler, and anyone else who asks your purpose in the town. It is an order for the release of a number of prisoners within the complex.

Yes, my Lord, Dreffan responded.

Do not interrupt me, Dreffan. Hear your assignment before you agree to it. You will then request an audience with General Harris. Kill her. Dreffan had had no intention of asking the reason, but Belfast told him anyway. Dreffan then knew that he either accepted the mission, or he was dead. Dreffan was not worried. Anything for the Plains. We cannot have an army such as Harris’ so close to our borders. Kill her. Send her army into disarray. Once the prisoners are released, Chant and Norovir will reunite with them. Track them down.

“Hail! Announce yourself!”

Dreffan was brought back to the present by a shout from ahead. He held his fist up over his shoulder, to halt the Bloodguard.

“Emmisary Dreffan Breloch, of the Blood Plains of the Eastern Barrens,” Dreffan called back to the man, who stood with a half dozen guards at the gated wall of Beldrin.

“Come forward slowly, with your hands on the reins.”

Dreffan did so, ordering his horse forward at a light walk. The speaker walked forward and extended his arm to Dreffan. Dreffan clasped the man’s wrist, then pulled away.

“Well met, Dreffan Breloch.” The look on the man’s face betrayed his voice; he was terrified of the trio that stood before him. “Orders, milord.”

Dreffan reached into his belt pouch and pulled forth the first piece of parchment Seraph had handed him and handed it to the Gate Keeper. The man slowly broke the seal on the parchment, read it over, then pulled forth a piece of charcoal from his pouch and made his mark on it, proving his knowledge of Dreffan’s presence.

“Procede.” He turned back to the gate and called, “Let ‘em through!”

“My thanks, Gate Keeper,” Dreffan said with a smile.

“Follow me into the city, please. My men and I will escort you around town, wherever you wish to go.”

“Your presence is appreciated, Gate Keeper. We would first head to the nearest inn. Our journey has been long, our rests short,” Dreffan said.

The Gate Keeper nodded and said, “Very well. Welcome to Beldrin, Emmisary.”