Young Writers Society

Jorgen Holdt

Travel is less silent now. Kollek hasn't been trying to interrogate Caioliss, and Jorgen, although discomforted by the silence, felt less pressure from it. It seemed, for the moment, that Kollek and the Fairy weren't on bad terms, even if they weren't on necessarily good terms...

They were many miles north of Buldenheim, and well into Orc territory. The foothills of the mountain loomed dauntingly through the thin canopy of the woods that lined the trail. And it was Cold. Jorgen drew his cloak about him as the wind bit his cheeks and nose. He cursed inwardly at his weakness. He had definitely spent to much time with other humans in the south. He looked over at Kollek. He fared better that Jorgen, he could see. Caioliss, too, was hardly affected by the cold. Would I offer my cloak if she was? Jorgen thought. He laughed softly, earning queer looks from Caioliss and Kollek. This he shrugged off. He had no real reasons to be in a bad mood. Despite the cold, the sun shone bright against the snow on the trees. Today was really quite beautiful. It was while looking up that heard it. There was a snap from behind them. Jorgen whirled around on his mount, drawing his sword. The other two had also heard, and turned towards the sound.

"Don't bother." Said a handsome, pale humanoid. He wore a white cloak, over a white robe. Everything about him seemed white.

"Who are you?" Jorgen asked.

"It won't matter." the figure smiled, an unearthly quality about him. Even his gums and tongue seemed pale. "You are trespassing."

"Oh?" Kollek said. "On whose territory?"

"Mine of course." said the man.

"This area is controlled by Orcs." Jorgen said. Next to him, Caioliss seemed to be concentrating hard. After a moment, she looked worried.

"Jorgen..."

"Have you a death-wish, snowman?" Kollek.

The figure laughed, and the temperature dropped so suddenly, Jorgen gasped. "Trespassers... I love trespassers." The stranger took a step forward.

"Jorgen, I can't move the air around him. He has powerful magic..." Caioliss said, and may have continued, but the figure began to grow. If anything, he grew whiter, and larger. Scales formed on his skin. His head elongated, and his laughter deepened.

"Without trespassers, I would go very hungry..." Wings exploded from the figures back, and a tail became visible. The figure grew until he towered over the trees. "Dragons have powerful magic of their own. Assuming human form is just a trick."

Against his back, Jorgen's sickle grew hot. He drew it from behind him, and the Dragon's grin faltered. "Would you resist a great wyrm?" said the dragon. The temperature dropped again. Jorgen looked at Kollek, and was reassured. Kollek's grin was demonic, his eyes ablaze. He was completely without fear. The two had never fought a dragon together...

Jorgen smiled. If this was to be his death, than he'd be riding this dragon to hell. With his sword in one hand, and his sickle in the other, he calmly got off of Brutus. "Yep."

Kollek laughed. "I wonder what Dragon-hide boots look like." he mused.

The dragon roared furiously, and a blast of frost escaped its mouth. Jorgen raised the sickle and prayed. The silver sickle grew hot against his glove, and glowed furiously, absorbing the dragons icy blast. As though in response, Kollek roared as he charged the dragon, dodging claws as he made to hack at the dragon. He swung his axe, and it bit into the flesh of the dragons neck. With a roar, the dragon swept Kollek into a tree with a swat of his talons. Dark blood ran down the Dragons neck, and Kollek rose from the tree. He roared again.

Boom. The dragon was knocked onto his side by a sudden gust of wind, and Caioliss held her hands outstretched. Jorgen took his chance, and made to plunge his sword into the dragons throat. He, too, was knocked free of the dragon, pain wracking him where he knew ribs had been broken. He looked up at the sky, spots clouding his vision, to see a wounded dragon fleeing. Kollek roared after him, "get back here, worm! My feet are cold and I need new boots!"

He'll be back... for sure. Jorgen cursed inwardly. He rose to his feet, the ribs on his lower left side broken. They hurt, but they didn't feel like they had punctured anything.

"Are you alright?" Caioliss asked.

"I'll be fine." Jorgen said. He found himself grinning. "That was exciting!" he said cheerfully.

"Are you sure?" She said. She seemed genuinely concerned.

Kollek intergected. "I'm alright too, thanks for asking. Your concern is touching." But he, too, was grinning. The dragon fight had greatly improved his mood.

Caioliss smiled. "Well then." She said. "Are we there yet?"

~Renalf~

Renalf looked worriedly at Roco and stooped over him he hadn't stirred in over an hour. The dart that had pierced him had been removed and bandaged, but Gamleor was afraid that that it had been poisoned. Renalf supposed it was, but there was nothing they could do aside from putting a poultice on it and hoping that it would draw the poison out.

Renalf knew that the dart was intended for him, for Roco moved fight beside him just before he collapsed. It was a terrible tragedy, but nonetheless, he was glad that it wasn't home lying on the ground. If that were the case he would have to delay going north and that would mean compromising his mission. It might even mean disaster.

He move to take the poultice off and examine the wound. Gamleor joined him, newly arrived from an unsuccessful hunting expedition. He looked a little tired. It was the first time Renalf ever saw him with a look like that on his face. The last time was right after they had temporarily fallen into enemy hands. Renalf shuddered at the thought.

He cringed as he examined Roco's wound. It was all blue and purple. He was even more startled when a fist came up and made contact with his jaw. His head jerked back and his eyes came in and out of focus. He heard another crack follow be a grunt that emitted from Gamleor.

Renalf stood and wiped a small trickle of blood. He had never felt something quite so powerful aside from a war club or a battle axe, though he had never come into close contact with either of those objects. Still, he sense that something was amiss!

Roco was run stooped over like an animal toward a distant knoll. Renalf pursued him as fast as he could as soon as he removed from the stunning blow. In his has he forgot his staff, though his sword still rested at his side. Gamleor was right behind him. As they ran they heard the sound of the returning flock of strange birds. Renalf and Gamleor stopped about twenty yards away from Roco to deal with the birds

"We can't hold them back for long!" Gamleor shouted to Renalf. "They are persistent. They had intended to kill you in the first place, but they didn't succeed. Now we are ready for them, but they are much more numerous! We will never be able to hold them off for more that a few minutes, especially without your staff! I may have to try a spell that will blind them. We just have to wait for them to get close enough to us. I can't use a spell effectively over a large distance without expending a large amount of energy."

As Gamleor finished speaking a flight of birds dove out of the sky. They were followed by scores more. Renalf and Gamleor struck at them with their swords, but this had little affect on the birds who hardly even bothered to dodge the blades. The only effect was the loss of a few tail feathers. Soon each of them was covered with bruises form the constant pecking of the birds. In less than a minute they were surrounded by the birds and couldn't even see themselves.

In the midst of the confusion Gamleor shouted, "Cover your eyes! I am about to use a spell and I don't want you to be effected by it!"

Renalf desperately flailed his arms and to shake off the birds. Eventually he simply gave up and closed his eyes while he attempted to cover them with his hands. This was followed by a blast of flashing light. His eyelids seem to shut twice as tight. After that there was a flurry of activity among the birds as they fluttered around not knowing which direction was where to go.

Now, when one of them came within reach of Renalf's sword it could do nothing to escape being hit. However there were still a good number on Renalf, not to mention up in the sky. Renalf first began ripping the birds off himself. Soon he had extricated all of them for hi body.

When he looked around, Renalf saw Gamleor bending over Roco. He hardly heading the birds flying and squawking around him unless they chanced to land on him. Gamleor put his face right up against Roco's ear and held it there what seemed like minutes. Renalf stood there, a tired expression on his face, presuming that Gamleor was speaking to Roco in elvish. He couldn't tell if it was a spell or just some compelling words that might rouse Roco. Whatever the case, Roco showed no signs of stirring...

Annette Morris

They bring me blood in a jar and I quickly took it. Gulping it down, I didn't care how disgusting I may look to others. I quickly look at the guards and they are scared.

"I need a different space from this werewolf. Whoever told you this was a good idea, well you are terribly wrong."

Without hesitation the guards opened the door to grab me, I took this chance to escape. "Run Xander!" I yell and fly up to the ceiling and zoom down the corridors. I needed to find my group, or maybe I didn't.

You could escape without them. I heard the voice inside my head say. I knew this already, it was just that I couldn't bear leaving them behind in possible danger. I saw Xander coming from the door I just escaped from and I flew down to him quickly and picked him up.

He was quite heavy being a wolf and all but my strength got the best of me, luckily. I smiled at how happy I was.

"Can you smell them?" I ask. He took a deep breath.

The town of Evincourt was only another hour's walk away, but the more Diánterrus tried to explain that to Dresdan, the more impatient the dragonet became.

But why does it have to take so infernally long to travel?! Dresdan exclaimed, exasperated.

"People found settlements because the location is ideal and serves a purpose, not because they don't fancy sleeping in a tent," Diánterrus said, barely managing to remain civil.

You sleep in a tent, I don't!

"That didn't bother you before you met me..." Diánterrus said, still very much agaitated.

It still doesn't! What does bother me is my growing hunger, and the sooner we get to that town and return to the forest, the sooner I can eat!

"Unless you have a more effective method of travelling than walking, you will simply have to relax until we get there."

Actually, I do: ride me.

"What?" Diánterrus asked, taken aback.

Ride me. Other draconian species mostly rely on their ability to breath fire, ice, etc. to survive, but forest dragons and dragonets rely on their stealth and speed. I can easily reach Evincourt within ten minutes.

Diánterrus wanted to object, but Dresdan's reasoning was sound. "Alright," he said reluctantly, "but if I fall off, I shall never ride you again."

Then don't fall off, Dresdan said mischievously, or better yet...

Before Diánterrus realised what had happened, he was in Dresdan's claws and flying over the grass at an alarming speed. He clutched his satchel, hoping that nothing would fall out, especially things like his charms, powders, and of course, the jar containing the rat-goblin. Diánterrus was still praying to Lakadeema not to let the dragonet kill them both, when the world came to a sickening stop.

"Next time..." Diánterrus began, fighting the urge to vomit, "we go slower." He bent down, his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes.

Whatever you say, Dresdan said and chuckled.

Another minute passed before Diánterrus deemed it safe to stand upright again. He made to cross the hill which was between him and Evincourt, when Dresdan spoke.

Shall I wait here? he asked apprehensively.

"I thought dragons could assume the form of a human?"

Dragons, yes. Dragonets, unfortunately not.

"Hmm. I might be able to cast an illusion strong enough to make you appear human, but you cannot touch anyone, or it will break. Can you move bipedally?"

I can try, but I'll have to lean against a wall whenever I'm not moving.

"Fine by me. Come on."

Diánterrus created the illusion and calmly walked towards Evincourt, all the while hoping Dresdan wouldn't panic. As it turned out, the inhabitants paid him more attention than the dragonet (for Diánterrus though, it was quite difficult not to laugh at seeing Dresdan walk upright), so circumstances were as favourable as could be expected.

Diánterrus visited the local tavern (Dresdan, of course, stayed outside) and questioned the patrons and staff, but they knew of no Elf, Ollemcrat, or Moomin; it seemed the trio had merely passed through. When he visited the sherrif's office, however, he learned that they had passed through eight days earlier and had made quite the scene.

"We had just been attacked by Southern Raiders," the sherrif said, "when some Wizard faced off against their leader. Their duel would have been fierce, I reckon, had that Elf not arrived and blasted the sop off his feet. Some grey thing which had accompanied the Elf said that the raider was dead, so the Wizard and the mercenary he had hired joined the three's merry band. Then they left."

"This raider," Diánterrus asked curiously, "what became of his minions? I've killed one already, but the others' fates are unknown."

"They have mostly been rounded up and executed," the sherrif replied simply, "but their leader? He was not as dead as the grey thingy had proclaimed."

"He's not dead?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Diánterrus glared at him. "Umm, sorry. No, he was only stunned. You'd think the Wizard would know the difference between a stunning spell and a deadly one."

"If the caster is powerful enough and the victim weak enough, Deemis Laktor Stupori can be lethal," Diánterrus stated matter-of-factly. "But if he is not dead, what did you do to him?"

"We would've loved to execute him, but we figured someone would want his head more than us - we had suffered only minor losses, you see, since his raiders turned tail and fled after his "death" - and would pay a good deal for it."

"Will five Castles be enough?" Diánterrus opened his satchel and produced the silver coins.

"More than enough," the sherrif replied, happily accepting the payment. "He's all yours."

Diánterrus nodded and made for the holding chamber. The raider was sitting in a cell in the corner of the room, docile as can be.

"Come to taunt me as well?" the raider asked grumpily. He wore brown leather armour and had fiery red hair. "Were these bars not made of Mithrill, I'd have burnt you all to a crisp ages ago."

"Mithrill, eh?" Diánterrus enquired from the deputy standing guard outside the cell.

"Yup. Our good sherrif got some dwarves out of a nasty spot a while back, so they installed us a cell which can restrain magical beings as thanks."

"Most interesting..." Turning to the raider, Diánterrus said, "I am not here to taunt you. What is your name?"

"Oqrol the Crimson," the raider said proudly, straightening as he did so. "A finer master of fire you won't find anywhere."

"A Wizard?" Diánterrus asked, impressed. "It is an honour."

"Prove it," the raider said defiantly. "Get me out of here."

"Had you not employed your power for your own gain and to the disadvantage of others, it would not be necessary. Besides, I know better than to trust a glorified bandit."

"So, you are here you taunt me!"

"No, but if you swore an oath to aid me in my endeavours, I might be persuaded to free you." Diánterrus had already purchased the man's freedom, but getting him to cooperate, that was the difficult part.

"Very well, what are your terms?"

"Before we get to that, I must know who your rival was. And I don't mean the Elf."

"Renalf the Teal," the raider spat.

"Alright, then. I shall free you and allow you to take revenge on your rival, but you must follow these three conditions: One, you must promise not to hinder me, which includes, among other things, sabotage and unsanctioned killing - you may kill Renalf, but the Elfish Wizard's head I have already promised to someone else. Two, you must obey my orders precisely - they will always be reasonable, so you canot complain. Three, if you really are as profficient in magic as you would have me believe, then teach me - I learn quickly, and it will keep us both busy on our journey. So, what say you?"

The raider contemplated Diánterrus' conditions for a moment, and then responded, "I accept your terms."

Diánterrus swore the Oath of Istar, and after the raider did as well, he had him released.

"Welcome to the hunt, Oqrol the Crimson."

~Renalf~

Roco woke from an uneasy sleep in a cold sweat. He felt the sudden urge to get out from under his blankets to escape the heat, but no sooner had he done so then he began shivering. Renalf, who was sitting by the fire with his back to Roco turned around sharply when he heard the noise and simultaneously laid a hand on his sword, Darowë. He relaxed, however, as soon as he saw and realized that Roco was awake. He practically jumped up and hugged Roco, but he remembered that Roco was sick with the flu.

"You have been asleep for a day!" Renalf whispered excitedly! You'd better go back to sleep! You were vomiting earlier and now that has led into a high fever. Gamleor thinks that some of the poison is running through your bloodstream and I agree. The less you move the better until we can figure out a spell that will cure you of your illness! Now slowly lie down again and go to sleep. I will keep watch over us."

Roco was already suffering from dizziness and felt too tired to argue about going to bed. He practically collapsed. He crawled back under his blankets, but after that his sleep was more fitful for a good while. Renalf sat motionless across the fire for hours. Every once in a while he would turn his head around to check on Roco, but aside from that he kept a vigilant watch all night until morning.

~~~

The next day the camp was alive with activity. While Gamleor cooked breakfast, Renalf tended to Roco. He seemed to be slightly refreshed with the rest that he had, but he was still far from recovering from his illness. He could scarcely eat a bowl of rabbit stew. The fever seemed to be a little bit better than before, though he was was still fluctuating back and forth between cold and warmth. The biggest improvement was his coherency. He slept through the night without uttering incoherent words and phrases.

"It seems that they poison, or at least part of it, has run through the body and been expelled," Renalf commented softly to Gamleor as they were eating. "He is acting much more sensibly. Now it seems all that remains is to help him recover from the fever he is running."

"Perhaps..." Galmleor conceded reluctantly. "Still, I wouldn't be to sure of that. We don't know what kind of poison it is, and until we do, we can't be sure of anything. But remember, we can't let Roco know that. For the moment all he knows is that he contracted a fever last night. I was able to place that into his memory while he was in a coma just before I went to bed last night."

"Well, that's good! The better his spirits, the more chance he will have to survive!

"You have a point. I was thinking along the same lines. He still isn't likely to survive if the poison is still capable of killing him, but he has a better chance if he doesn't know about it."

"Well, what do you suggest we do to try and figure out what the poison is and how to cure it?"

"I can't exactly say," Gamleor replied. "The only thin I can think of is to test his blood samples to see if we can find anything in them. The only other way to find it out is to find one of the Kremquill. That would be impossible though! The survivors of the attack are already leagues away from here. You can administer a spell to make him drowsy. When he is asleep we can tak blood samples."

"That sounds good to me!" Renalf agreed. Should I do it right away or after we eat?"

"The sooner we find out what he has inside of him the better!" Gamleor said.

"Well how can we tell what is in the blood? Is there a spell for it." Gamleor merely nodded subtly

"Alright," Renalf agreed. He proceeded to whisper a few words in the Ancient Tongue. No later than five minutes following their conversation Roco was sound asleep.

Caioliss

I sway on my feet. The fight with the dragon had nearly done me in. The small amount of wind I manipulated had taken all of my remaining sweat to control. Jorgen moves closer to me.

"Are you alright?"

I nod weakly, rapidly searching for excuses that were still the truth. "I..."

"You're pale. And you look like you're about to faint." He signals to Kollek to stop, and I dismount from my horse and sway when I reach the ground.

Kollek grunts. "What's wrong with her?" He sounds annoyed, but I think that he's at least a bit worried. I must look horrible. I had given Kollek's ring up to her majesty two nights ago, and I had no other iron on me, except my mother's locket, but that was wrapped with rowan. It was my companions' weapons that were leeching my power.

"I'm... I'm..." The word fine stick in my throat, because I am not fine. I know that I'm probably burning hot, and I wouldn't heal well if I was injured now. I sink to the ground. Giving up, I tell them the truth. "It's your iron."

They look at each other, confused. "Iron?" Jorgen asks.

"Aye, iron. It's like poison to faeries. I'd be dead by now, if I was a pureblood. As it is, I'll pass out and won't wake up in a few days if I stick around much longer." My head spins, and I keep talking. I know I'm rambling, but I can't seem to be able to stop myself. "Salt is, too. It burns me, but it doesn't take my strength unless I eat it. If you draw a circle of salt around me or I step into one willingly, I'll never get out unless a crack appears. I'll have no power in the circle, either..." Shut up, I tell myself.

I look up to see their reaction. Both look troubled. I start to get up again, but everything dims, and I feel a talon grip my body and lift me up and I lose consciousness.

I wake up in a wooden cage. Although I know that the dragons took me, I feel more refreshed than I had been for days. It was daylight outside, and judging by the sun, it was nearing noon. I test my powers- they were back fully. I take grasp of the wind, putting pressure on each individual bar of wood until the cage explodes. I have no jailor- the dragons must be too stupid to have thought of guarding me. More likely, they thought I was a human girl, incapable of getting myself out. My bag and quarterstaff are gone, of course, but they've left my drinking horn. After gulping down some water, I proceed to construct to create a hanging glamour for myself. They didn't require a constant feed of energy, but you had to use a lot of energy taking them down again. Luckily, it was just the thing for big glamours. I turn myself into a huge, sparkling dragon, a pale blue that's almost white. Just as I'm about to release it, a twig breaks behind me, and I whirl around.

Killian stands there, alone. "What are you doing?"

"I have to get my things, idiot."

He shakes his head. "We magicked them away." He holds them out to me, and I hurry over and take them.

"Why is Maeve helping me? This was supposed to be a test."

Killian looks uncomfortable. "I'm sure you've guessed-"

"That my great-aunt has an agenda of her own? Yes."

"Well, then, here's your next task. Your companions are going to find a feather. You must take it from them- make sure they are the ones who get it, and then take it from them. Kill the dwarf. After you have done this, you may return."

I stagger back. "Kill... Kollek? No, I could... I could never."

Killian shrugs. "I'm only the messenger, Cai. But I have something to say of my own."

I shrug. "Go on."

"Spy on Aodhan. He's up to something, and you can scry on him without him knowing, since you're in a different world."

"Spy on him?"

"I know you loved him-"

"I still love him, Killian!"

"C'mon, Liss! He could have kept you from being banished, but he didn't do anything. He's the heir to the throne, since the royal line has no direct descendants. He could do anything."

I sigh. What Killian had said was true. "Very well. Now go, before someone sees you!"

I start the trek back to camp. Sending the wind out to taste for Jorgen and Kollek, I follow it. Finally, their ponies come into sight. "Jorgen!" I call.

Diánterrus and Oqrol exited the sheriff’s office together, where a surprised Dresdan awaited them.

“Oqrol, this Dresdan. Dresdan, this is the raider we learned about earlier. He also happens to be a Wizard.”

Dresdan merely scowled at the former raider. He isn’t after that Elfish Wizard as well, is he?

“What’s his problem?” Oqrol asked, aware only of the illusion’s facial expression, and not his telepathic question.

“Pardon him,” Diánterrus said, hurriedly trying to diffuse the tension, “Dresdan is mute, so he has to communicate through means of body language.”

“He doesn’t seem too friendly…” Oqrol stated, narrowing his eyes at the illusion.

“He is simply suspicious of strangers,” Diánterrus replied. “I am sure it will not be a problem though.” He looked at Dresdan pointedly, who forced a smile in response. “There, you see? Now let’s go; I still have some purchases to make before we leave town.”

“Did you not say you had only arrived today?” Oqrol asked, taken aback.

“Yes, but I do not see why that is of any significance.”

“Why do you plan on leaving the very same day you arrived?”

“The townsfolk claim that the people we seek left here approximately eight days ago. If this claim is accurate, then we must proceed with the utmost haste if we are to find them.”

“You promised me Renalf’s head, but insisted the Elf is off limits,” Oqrol said, walking alongside Diánterrus to the marketplace, with Dresdan following at the back. “Have you granted the privilege of killing him to Dresdan here?”

“Indeed, I have.”

“And you tried to hide this why? Surely that is why he distrusts me?”

Already, the Wizard’s temper was flaring, and his fiery hair seemed to grow brighter by the second. “What could I possibly gain by lying to you?” Diánterrus asked coldly, stopping to glare at Oqrol. “When I say he does not trust you because you are a stranger, it is the truth. You are a Wizard, and seeing as he’s had some bad experience with Wizards, that does not ease his suspicion much.”

“Oh,” Oqrol said apologetically.

“And quite frankly, if you do not keep your temper in check, we shall be having problems. You may not be able to kill me, but nothing prevents me from killing you, should your usefulness be depleted. So, in future, I suggest you put a guard on your mouth before speaking.” Diánterrus turned on his heel and continued down the road as if nothing had happened.

The rest of the day was spent buying supplies for the journey. Diánterrus had bought a tent, many imperishable foodstuffs, and also several other oddities, much to Oqrol’s confusion and frustration, since he was forced to carry everything.

“I am not a pack mule!” he seethed finally. “Why can your mute friend not help carrying the stuff? And why must you buy all of these infernal trinkets. I mean jewellery polish?”

“If you knew the true nature of this amulet,” Diánterrus said, fingering the locket, “you would understand why it needs to be polished.” It was made of ninety-five percent silver, and if he neglected to keep it as pure as possible, the amulet’s magical capability would decrease. “And besides, it would be better for all of us if Dresdan did not touch anything.” Diánterrus lowered his voice and continued, “He is under an illusion – I cannot explain why, but you will understand later.”

Oqrol was still unhappy with his lot. “Well, then, why can I not simply cast a spell on your satchel to increase its size on the inside, but have no effect on the outside?”

“There’s a spell for that?” Diánterrus asked, interested.

“Umm, no. But I suppose I can create a chant for it.”

“A chant?”

“Yes. Spells consist of three words or less, whereas chants always consist of more than three. A chant is basically just a sentence in the Tongue of the Gods structured in such a way that it will serve your purpose. Of course, you cannot use the divine translation for “launch a fire-bolt at that person” when you are combating another mage, which is why spells were invented. However, spells only perform one, very specific function, so if no spell for the desired result exists, you have to make up a chant for it.”

“And you think you can come up with a chant to increase the carrying capacity of my satchel?” Diánterrus asked sceptically.

“I should be able to. Let’s see…”

Oqrol was about to mutter the incantation, when Diánterrus exclaimed, “Stop!”

“I haven’t even spoken yet!” Oqrol protested.

“That’s the idea. Practice on this pouch first.” Diánterrus produced an empty woollen pouch and held it out.

“Alright. Umm… Rallen-Tandus Mastor Kontagius, vi ni tes Ignizia.”

The pouch immediately grew in size – a bag was suddenly lying in Diánterrus’ palm. “It’s not exactly the result we were looking for…” he commented, but the bag ignited as soon as he had finished speaking. He dropped it with a start and stamped out the fire.

“Definitely not,” Oqrol admitted, “but I know what I said wrong. I am now sure of the chant.” Diánterrus reluctantly extended his pouch. “Rallen-Tanda Mastor Kontagius, vi ni tes Icknisia.”

Diánterrus prepared for the worst, but nothing happened. He stuck his hand into the satchel, and after pushing his arm in all the way up to the shoulder, he withdrew, looking pleased. “I cannot feel the bottom.”

Oqrol happily handed the supplies to Diánterrus, who then placed it in his satchel. “Now we just have to buy some oxen, and we’ll be done.”

Oqrol was aghast. “After all that, you’re actually going to buy a beast of burden?”

“Not just one, but five.”

“Why?!”

“You will see in less than half an hour’s time.”

After purchasing the five oxen, the trio left the town. Already the sun was setting, but Diánterrus seemed oblivious. They continued northwest until they crossed a hill and the town of Evincourt was no longer visible.

“Oqrol,” Diánterrus said, finally stopping and turning to face his two companions. “I introduce to you Dresdan – the real one.” He put his hand on the dragonet’s wing (which he could still see, seeing as he had cast the illusion) and the sound of glass breaking was heard.

“Dresdan is a forest dragonet?” Oqrol asked, his eyes wide.

“He will not be one for very long.”

“What do you mean?” Oqrol was just as confused as the dragonet himself.

“For as long as I have known him, it has been Dresdan’s wish to mature into a dragon. I have decided to grant him his wish.”

Dresdan’s eyes lit up, but Oqrol remained as flabbergasted as ever. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

“Unlike most other beings, dragonets mature not according to their age, but according to their food supply. Hence the oxen.” Comprehension finally dawned on the Wizard. “Go ahead,” Diánterrus said, gesturing in the general direction of the oxen, “you may have one now, but only one. And please, eat the poor beast some distance off where we cannot hear it.”

Dresdan smiled, snatched the nearest ox and bounded across the fields and out of eye- and earshot.

“I am glad you let him have the Elf,” Oqrol confessed to Diánterrus. “I don’t think I would very much enjoy having him as an enemy.”

~Renalf~

Roco woke from an uneasy sleep in a cold sweat. He felt the sudden urge to get out from under his blankets to escape the heat, but no sooner had he done so then he began shivering. Renalf, who was sitting by the fire with his back to Roco turned around sharply when he heard the noise and simultaneously laid a hand on his sword, Darowë. He relaxed, however, as soon as he saw and realized that Roco was awake. He practically jumped up and hugged Roco, but he remembered that Roco was sick with the flu.

"You have been asleep for a day!" Renalf whispered excitedly! You'd better go back to sleep! You were vomiting earlier and now that has led into a high fever. Gamleor thinks that some of the poison is running through your bloodstream and I agree. The less you move the better until we can figure out a spell that will cure you of your illness! Now slowly lie down again and go to sleep. I will keep watch over us."

Roco was already suffering from dizziness and felt too tired to argue about going to bed. He practically collapsed. He crawled back under his blankets, but after that his sleep was more fitful for a good while. Renalf sat motionless across the fire for hours. Every once in a while he would turn his head around to check on Roco, but aside from that he kept a vigilant watch all night until morning.

~~~

The next day the camp was alive with activity. While Gamleor cooked breakfast, Renalf tended to Roco. He seemed to be slightly refreshed with the rest that he had, but he was still far from recovering from his illness. He could scarcely eat a bowl of rabbit stew. The fever seemed to be a little bit better than before, though he was was still fluctuating back and forth between cold and warmth. The biggest improvement was his coherency. He slept through the night without uttering incoherent words and phrases.

"It seems that they poison, or at least part of it, has run through the body and been expelled," Renalf commented softly to Gamleor as they were eating. "He is acting much more sensibly. Now it seems all that remains is to help him recover from the fever he is running."

"Perhaps..." Galmleor conceded reluctantly. "Still, I wouldn't be to sure of that. We don't know what kind of poison it is, and until we do, we can't be sure of anything. But remember, we can't let Roco know that. For the moment all he knows is that he contracted a fever last night. I was able to place that into his memory while he was in a coma just before I went to bed last night."

"Well, that's good! The better his spirits, the more chance he will have to survive!

"You have a point. I was thinking along the same lines. He still isn't likely to survive if the poison is still capable of killing him, but he has a better chance if he doesn't know about it."

"Well, what do you suggest we do to try and figure out what the poison is and how to cure it?"

"I can't exactly say," Gamleor replied. "The only thin I can think of is to test his blood samples to see if we can find anything in them. The only other way to find it out is to find one of the Kremquill. That would be impossible though! The survivors of the attack are already leagues away from here. You can administer a spell to make him drowsy. When he is asleep we can tak blood samples."

"That sounds good to me!" Renalf agreed. Should I do it right away or after we eat?"

"The sooner we find out what he has inside of him the better!" Gamleor said.

"Well how can we tell what is in the blood? Is there a spell for it." Gamleor merely nodded subtly

"Alright," Renalf agreed. He proceeded to whisper a few words in the Ancient Tongue. No later than five minutes following their conversation Roco was sound asleep.

The birds were chirping and and wind was blowing furiously, but Renalf's senses were all attuned to Roco as Gamleor pricked Roco with his dagger.

Dominic

“You go first.”

Sarris nimbly climbed out of the window and onto the roof, his satchel hanging loosely behind his back.

“Come on, Dominic,” Kevin whispered as he helped Sarris readjust his cloak, “the guards can barge in at any moment.”

Dominic took a last look around the room before starting to worm himself through the hole which had contained a window no less than an hour ago. He just managed to get his chest through when he heard the guards return and start banging on the door.

“That moment you spoke of has arrived!” Dominic said, struggling to get the rest of his body through the hole.

“Hurry!” Kevin whispered again. Dominic heard someone run across the roof, followed by Kevin asking, “Sarris, where are going?!”

“I have a plan!” Sarris called, jumping down and disappearing into the alley on the other side.

At that moment, Dominic heard a loud cracking sound – the bolt had broken in half. “Kevin,” he said, “if I get captured, I want you and Sarris to run. Run until you get out of this accursed place!”

“Dominic, don’t talk like that.” Kevin sounded terrified. “Grab my hand!”

“Kevin!” Dominic shouted, “I admire your bravery and courage, but this is not the time to be a hero. Run!”

“But–” Kevin was interrupted by a loud bang; the guards had finally managed to break through the door.

“Look!” one guard shouted. “The Wizard’s escaping through the window! Get him!”

The guards were about to grab Dominic and pull him back into the cell, but something strange happened. A blinding white light enveloped both Dominic and Kevin, making the guards exclaim in surprise and pain and hide their faces from the powerful light.

“What’s happening?!” Kevin shouted frantically.

“This, my dear Moomin,” Dominic said, smiling wide, “is how magic feels.”



Suddenly, Dominic and Kevin found themselves standing in a circle around Sarris in a dark alleyway. Annette and Xander stood opposite them.

“It… it actually worked…” Sarris said in relief before collapsing on the spot.

“Sarris!” Kevin exclaimed. He jumped forward and knelt beside, Dominic watching on in grave silence. He felt Sarris’ neck for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s still alive,” he said, rising from the dank stone, “he’s simply unconscious.”

Dominic silently thanked Istar, but Annette and Xander were slightly more preoccupied – they hadn’t even noticed Sarris’ collapse.

“Ugh, your body feels so awkward,” Xander complained, glaring at Annette, “and it doesn’t stink anymore. How can you not smell yourself?”

“Well, you can have yours back anytime,” Annette retorted. “Do you think I want breasts?”

Dominic realised with a shock that Annette and Xander must have swapped bodies after being teleported.

“How did this happen?” the duo asked in unison.

“Well, when Sarris teleported us here, I suppose you two must have been touching somehow. That is the only risk when using teleportation as a means of transportation.”

“Can you fix us?” Xander – Annette – asked worriedly.

“Of course,” Dominic responded quickly, “but it will have to wait until we get out of here. We have no time to lose!”

Annette Morris

I couldn't smell wolf anymore. Wow. Thank god. I thought. "Stop looking at my boobs!" I yell to Xander, he kept looking down my shirt but it wasn't my shirt. This was freaked up and there was nothing I could do about it but wait.

"We need to get out of this!" Xander mumbled as he kept studying my pale skin. I was definitely not in luck being inside a wolfs body. I put my fingers to my head, well his head, whatever it was! I couldn't stop freaking out.

"Please just chill." Dominic retorted to the both of us. I glared at him. "Don't tell me to chill when you don't know how this feels to be in your enemies body!" I yell to him. I looked over to Xander, in my body, and his eyes were becoming a red tint. "Are you hungry?" I ask him.

"I won't drink animal blood! It just isn't happening!" he yells. I let out a laugh, "Yes you freaking will!" I tell him and sort of let out a growl. This was definitely unusual for me.

I glared at him and his fangs, my fangs, protruded out. "Drink this." I tell him and pull it from his pocket. He looked at it trying to resist. Then he snapped, drinking what was left.

I never saw someone be that hungry. I sighed, at least my body would stay healthy. "Don't go away from me either!" I tell him. I needed to keep my body as close to me as possible so he didn't do anything I didn't want him too.

Sarris' finally awoke and we hid behind a trash can waiting for it to be a free run. My stomach growled and I ignored it, I was good at ignoring hunger.

"Where the hell are we?" asked Kevin.
"I dunno..." said Sarris, as Dominic pulled him from his unconscious state. "More to the point, who are you?"
Dominic and Kevin simultaneously smacked their foreheads.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Dominic.
"As in we now have two pissed off metamoposized or whatever you call it people and an a cat with amnesia. Yeah, it had kinda crossed my mind."
"Wait," said Annette worriedly, "He can still use his magic to change us back, right?"
"Change who back?" asked Sarris groggily.
Annette buried Xander's head in his hands.
"Can you do it?" asked Xander, addressing Dominic.
"I can, but I'd need to get my full power back. We'll have to wait till we've got out of here. Then I'll see what I can do to help Sarris too."
Just then a sound of foot steps came from one of the side allys.
"We better get a move on," said Kevin, "I've met the inhabitants and I don't think the cops could be much better."
"Agreed." said Dominic, as he swept the still dazed Sarris onto his shoulders.
The group ran through the cobbled back allys, ducking under strung out washing and dodging round bins. A bell rang out in the distance, and all of a sudden bells were ringing all around them.
"I think we're being chased." said Sarris from atop Dominic's shoulders.
Kevin swore under his breath and kept on running.
Coming the end of an ally, Xander, who was in the lead, stopped.
"They've got guards on they main exit. There's only one other way out."
Without pausing to explain what he was talking about he started running again. The group took several more quick turns, never catching sight of their pursuers, but knowing they were never far behind.
"Right, we're here." said Xander.
Kevin looked around. There was a stone archway in the side of the rock face. The street was largeish, but the group couldn't see anyone up or down it. Dominic looked concerned.
"Isn't this the entrance to the maze? Where we were going to be put anyway?"
"It's the only way out." replied Xander. "Besides, Now we have a head start. Come on."

~Gamleor~

"He still has poison in his veins." Gamleor announced. Renalf's eyebrows went up a few inches, but he was not too surprised.

"Well what kind is it?" Renalf asked in a nervous, expecting tone. "Can you cure it?"

"Well, in answer to your first question, it is Phlael. It is made only from a plant in immortal places such as the Island of the gods or..." Gamleor trailed off and a white look crossed his face.

"The City of Curses!" Renalf whispered passionately. "I should have known that Deela would trouble me along my journey! This means trouble. We can't do anything to help Roco!"

"Not at the moment, no. But there is a way that we might be able to heal Roco. There is a temple to Obad-Hai to the east of here about three days ride away. We will have to race to tget there though! The poison kills within three to five days. It is quite slow. I will ride to the temple taking all our horses riding as quickly as I can. That will double my time at least, but I will still be hard pressed! I want you to stay here with Roco. I will leave at once."

"Are you sure?" Gamleor nodded. "Well, I will water each of the horses with the water supply we have. They will be sure to need it. I wish you luck, and I hope that Roco survives until then."

Renalf rushed about the camp preparing for Gamleor's journey. As he worked a thought struck him.

"How will Roco be healed if we do not take him to the temple?" He asked Gamleor.

"Well, they have special healers there. However, the healers can only heal there patients if they have access to the power of Obad-Hai who happens have the powers of healing. To tap into that power they need to make sacrifices. Naturally without the sacrifices Obad-Hai gives them no healing power."

"I see! Well I hope that your plan works! Speaking of which, the horses are all ready for the journey. You already have your pack made ready, right?"

"Yes. Now, I must be off! Farewell for now. I hope to see you in five or six days. I may stay at the temple for a day or two to let myself and the horses to recover the horses."

"Farewell! I pray that Lakadeema bless you with luck and good fortune on your way!"

A warm smile spread across Gamleor's pallid face as he mounted his own horse. Renalf looked down at Roco soon after Gamleor departed hardly bothering to wait until he went out of sight.

~~~

Gamleor rode on for hours on end seemingly. it seems as if the sun is moving painfully slow. Gamleor hardly bothered to stop for any reason other than the "call of nature" or gnawing hunger. He rode at a steady walk or trot nearly the entire time. Here and there he would urge the horses into a canter, but he only allowed them to canter for short periods of five or ten minutes an hour.

When darkness came he halted briefly to let his horses drink and take a short meal.

"You have been working hard," he said to them in the ancient tongue. "You deserve a little break from your exertions. If it weren't for your sake I should hardly bother to stop. Indeed, he himself didn't eat anything aside from a morsel of bread and a few swigs of water. Even then he only ate after he had resumed the trail. He let the horses go on at a walk with little urging from him for most of the time until he at last drifted off to sleep when the moon was half way across the sky.

Jorgen Holdt

Caioliss's disappearance had worried Jorgen, though it seemed not to bother Kollek or even the fairy herself. So, he didn't bring it up as Caioliss ran towards them on the road, calling their names.

As much as Jorgen had intentions of not asking where she had gone, Kollek had different plans. "Where were ye?" He asked gruffly, crossing his arms.

"The dragon has a camp, I think." She began. She looked better. She held herself taller, and the paleness had gone from her skin. "east of here."

"Dragons only have one lair..." Kollek said. "Were you in a cave?"

"No," Said Caioliss. "I was outside." Jorgen noticed hesitation.

"the Dragon probably dropped yeoff with some Kobolds." Kollek continued.

"Kobolds?" Caioliss said.

"Little lizardy things. Not nice, usually. Dragons use 'emto guard their lairs. I can't think of a good reason why a white dragon would've spared you... Probably detected yer magic."

Caioliss nodded. "It wanted to use me as a servant?"

"No." Kollek said. "Dragons are smart. This one probably sensed that'yer magic was weak. It might have wanted your powers t'come back, so he could eat'ye and absorb that energy."

Caioliss nodded coolly. Jorgen detected concern, but he suspected that it wasn't from being taken. "Did you meet someone? Resistance?" Jorgen asked.

She looked at Jorgen. "Killian." she said.

"Was he the one who attacked you when we met?" Jorgen asked, concerned now.

"He's just the messenger." Caioliss said.

"What message did he bring?" Jorgen said. Caioliss's expression fell.

"He gave me a message from my queen..." she said. She seemed troubled. Jorgen got the feeling that she didn't want to elaborate.

"Is everything alright?" Jorgen asked.

Caioliss smiled sadly. "Never in my life have I been able to say that everything was alright."

Jorgen nodded grimly. "But are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Caioliss said, pushing Jorgen away. "Now get the hell away from me, with your chainmail and iron." Jorgen made to retort, but stopped himself. She was smiling at him, something she hadn't done. Her eyes were mixed, but she was unmistakably smiling. She made to walk ahead.

"Where're ye going?" Kollek said as she strode far ahead.

"I'll scout ahead, so I don't get sick from all of your metal. You are as laden with iron as a siege tower."

"And ten times as dangerous, mind you!" Kollek called. He, too, was smiling. This was another thing that Kollek had never done to Caioliss.

At the same time, however, Jorgen was concerned for Caioliss. What had been her message. Jorgen let it rest after a stern look from Kollek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They traveled on the small road until it thinned greatly. Dusk had just begun to fall as they reached the foot of the mountain, and by then the road was little more than a footpath, overgrown and untraveled. Jorgen suggested they make camp, but Caioliss shook her head.

"The wind is heavy with the scent of orcs." She said. "The base of the mountain is a bad place to be. We're going to have to climb. Can the beasts climb?"

Jorgen was hesitant. This was dragon territory. He feared that if he loosed the beasts, they'd be taken. But he knew that they'd be unable to make the climb. In the end, he commanded for the beasts to go back to the fort. The rest of the journey would have to be completed on foot. Kollek shook his head at the trees, which loomed over them now.

"I hate trees." Kollek said.

"Why?" Caioliss said. Kollek seemed not to be in the mood to explain himself.

"Which way are the Orcs?" Jorgen said.

"They're all over the mountain. No doubt we'll run into some." Caioliss said.

Kollek looked at her, grinning. "Do you know where we're going?"

Caioliss blinked. "Um, no... Actually I have no idea."

"Really? Cause we were following you." Jorgen said. Caioliss blanched, and Jorgen laughed. "Just a jest."

"We're going to Khazad Grom." Kollek said. "We're looking for something that belongs to me."

Caioliss looked worried. In the end she looked at Jorgen. "Don't do that." She said. Jorgen laughed again.

"Lead on, Kollek."

Kollek nodded, and they made their way along a narrow path. They marched long into dark. Jorgen grew weary, but didn't want it to show. Caioliss was several meters in front, so as to avoid proximity with iron.

The rustling of a leaf was the only warning that anything had been following.

Amelina

I sensed something different. That was all I could say, just different. As I crept along the kingdom I kept sniffing the air. Then, there she was. That beautiful vampire from years and years ago, Annette. I stayed behind a little just to get a sense of how she was now. I couldn't love her anymore, I was without a heart.

As I stared, something was different about her. The Annette I knew never slouched as she walked. There was a wolf next to her, his stench was quite alarming to my heated nostrils, along side them were others, some of who I never even heard of. I caught some names, only Dominic, Kevin, and something like Sander, I might have been wrong. I sighed and inched nearer.

Annette turned my way and I hid behind a trash can. The wolf also turned my way and I could sense a little tension between Annette and the wolf.

Just walk up to her and pretend you have been friends forever. I thought to myself, she would never be my friend again I knew that much, but I wanted to talk to her again.

"Annette?" I mutter. She turned my way along with the wolf. "What?" the wolf asked and instantly got quite. "Shhh Xander." Annette told the wolf. I was instantly curious. Something was up.

"Are you okay?" I asked her getting a little closer. She backed up and the wolf had nerve to stand in front of me.

Before I knew it, I lashed out against the wolf and it flew against the tree. "What the hell is your problem?" one of the people asked me, the wolf laid there crying and Annette backed up.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" the wolf asked. I laughed. "Ask Annette. She could tell you." I say and grin towards her. She looked clueless.

"I AM Annette!" the wolf yelled.

Instantly I felt dumb struck, I let my anger get ahold of me and it happened again. "Wha--" I was about to say, but she interrupted me. "Amelina. You need to leave. I am having a damn crisis." she yelled.

I stepped back a little. "I... I was just trying to catch up, you know? Like old times." I mutter in a saddened voice.

"What we had Is over." she yelled and walked off. The rest of the gang followed and I stayed away long enough to get a distance.

I had a feeling I knew what they were after, the Quill would be mine and she would join my side, finally.

I snickered under my breath and followed.

~Renalf~

Renalf laid a hand on Roco’s forehead. He felt energy surge through his veins. He could tell that Roco still had a fever. Renalf was worried about him. It had been three days since Gamleor left. At first it seemed that Roco might just recover but on the evening of the second day he had taken a turn for the worse. Shortly after that he had a fever. Now in addition to this, he was convulsing, his heart was beating rapidly, and he was hallucinating. Renalf paced about the camp hoping… no praying that the healers from the temple of Obad-Hai would come as speedily as they possibly could.

“You know one thing that makes you fortunate, Roco! You don’t even know that you are sick or anything is wrong with you. You are completely oblivious to all that’s going on around you while I have to sit here and wait for Gamleor and the healers of Obaid-Hai arrive. I envy you!” Renalf was talking to himself more than Roco. He was simply voicing his thoughts aloud. He found it a bad habit that he picked up on while he was living alone and he never seemed to get rid of it after that.

Roco rolled over. He seemed to sigh, though whether this was out of contentment or just a loud breathe Renalf could not tell. He found himself sighing as he realized how worried he had become over the past few days.

“You don’t know all the anxiety that you have caused me either. I suppose that is a good thing though. If you did you might already be dead.” Reluctantly Renalf stood and walked over by the fire to check on the pot of stew that he was cooking.


“The unfortunate thing is that I have to cook for myself and as you know, Roco, I am not a very good cook to say the least!” He let out a low chuckle. "At least you don’t have to eat it like I do. But like they say a man eats the fruit of his labor! I suppose I will just have to be content with the way things are.

For a time Renalf sat by the fire in silence glancing over at Roco every few minutes. Surprisingly Roco was silent and ceased his periodic hallucinations. Renalf took this as a good sign though he still was unsure of Roco's actual condition. One time he walked over to Roco to see how his fever was and it seemed that it only grew worse. Renalf tried using a simple healing spell, but it only had a slight impact on Roco. There was obviously a strong poison running through Roco. It just seemed to unpredictable.

As the afternoon dragged on into evening Roco's condition went up and down. Sometime he would be battling a fever and then he would be shivering. A few minutes later he began hallucinating. Then he was perfectly still, though he still had a somewhat high temperature. Other than that he appeared to be perfectly fine.

Renalf attempted to give him a little bit of stew to see if that would rouse him, but he only convulsed and began writhing about and grappling with his blankets as if they were his opponents. Renalf deemed it best that he leave him alone aside from what little treatment he could give him.

"I do hope you make it until the healers arrive" Renalf muttered to himself under his breath.

As he was cleaning up the campsite in preparation to turn in Renalf heard a crackle. He brushed it off as the fire making a little noise, but when he turned around he thought he could catch a glimpse of a dark figure, or perhaps a number of figures walking through the forest. He couldn't see them very well though as a result of the fire lying in the space between them. In a moment they disappeared. Renalf was about to grab his sword and go after them to find out who they were, but he decided to wait for them to come to him. He knew quite a lot of magic that would protect him against numbers. His opponents had already lost the element of surprise which was their greatest advantage. I will wait for them to come to me. They are most likely orcs or goblins. We are still a good way off from the mountains, so they can't be trolls. That was it. He would wait.