Young Writers Society

The hot sun beat down on the company as they walked through the plane. In the past day they had descended several hundered feet, out of the mountains, and everyone was feeling the temperature difference. Even though the sun was low in the sky, the heat was still difficult to cope with, laden down as they were. Kevin had taken his hat off, having replaced it with a knotted handkerchief to soak up sweat, and was using it to fan his face.
Suddenly Dom (as Kevin liked to call him, and he loathed to be called) stopped. "I need to consult the map," he said, and at that drew a yellowed piece of paper from his pocket and mumbled something in ancient dwarvish. (Kevin didn't know what he said, ancient dwarvish was not his forte, but he did manage to understand the first few words as "I solemnly swear that I'm...") Instantly black lines appeared on the map. Dominic gravely shook his his head.
"What's up Dom?" said Kevin jovially. Dominic stared at him like only a highly powerful wizard can. "Inic." finished Kevin obediently.
"We'll never make it to the nearest town in time," Dominic said to the party. "We'll just have to set up camp in that clump of trees on the horizon."

***

By the time they reached the clump of trees it was an hour after sunset. It had looked close, but on the planes you can see for miles. Judging distances is tricky. The trees were few and sparse, and as they approached, Dominic, (Or as Kevin now preferred to call him, The Wiz Dude,) spotted a flickering light in amongst the trees.
"We need two small people to go ahead and check to see what manner of beast is making the light." Saris and Kevin looked at each other. Neither looked particularly willing, but Kevin new it wasn't wise to mess with The Wiz Dude. "You two will go in. If they are friend, hoot once like a barn owl and twice like a screach owl. If foe, do your best tawny owl."
Both Kevin were sent off so quickly however neither had the opportunity to say they didn't actually there were different types of owl.
As they approached, Kevin making no noise at all like only a Moomin can, the light suddenly went out. Then, someone started yelling obscenitys at the top of their voices. Sarris was unamused, but Kevin just cracked up. He lay rolling on the floor in fits of laughter, Moonins being the perfect shape for rolling. In a matter of seconds however he was halled to his feet by a tall human warrior, and he saw that Sarris had had a similar fate, only his assailant was dwarven and slightly drunk by the looks of things.
This'll teach you to try and pick our pockets," said the dwarf, and started kicking Sarris, of meowed in pain. "We're not thieves. We are merely an advance party to investigate the light!" blurted Sarris.
"If that's true, summon the rest of yer. We'll see if you is tellin' lies or no."
Kevin thought for a moment, then gave his best duck call.

***

"What the hell do you suppose that means?" Dominic asked Annette. Annette simply shrugged her shoulders, and started forwards.
Once they arrived at the clearing, the dwarf and human dropped the two, the dwarf somewhat reluctantly. Formal introductions were made. The group supped. Kollek and Jorgen had already eaten, but were happy to nibble a few nibbles and drink a drink or two.
About a quarter way through the meal, Kevin noticed that Annette was sitting away from everyone, at the edge of the firelight. Then he realized. The clump of trees had no animals, and she couldn't eat ordinary food. So he got up, and padded towards here, grabbing his pack as he left.
"You ok?"
Annette looked at him, and nodded. "Yeah, just not very social generally that's all."
"Hungry?"
Annette shrugged. "Yeah. There isn't anything..."
"For you to eat here," Kevin finished.
Annette nodded again.
"Wrong." Kevin reached into his rucksack and took out three wineskins. "Pick a blood type."
"Those are blood?"
"I'm a Barber Surgeon, I always keep a couple of pints of each of the three most popular blood types. You know, incase someone's lost a lot of blood."
A wave of gratitude spread over Annette's face, as she eagerly picked up each of the wineskins, and sniffed them in turn. "I like this one the most," she said, holding up the second, "thank you so much."
"The pleasure's mine. I'd probably best leave you too it." Kevin picked up the other two skins, and put them back in his rucksack, which he picked up, and carried back to to the fireside.

***

The next morning, the group awoke. After breakfast, (another pint of blood from Kevin's supplys for the Vampire,) everyone packed up their things and got ready to leave.
"So whereabouts are yous headed?" asked to dwarf.
"Just north," said Dominic, kicking Sarris to stop him telling them their precise destination. Telling a dwarf that they were traveling to an ancient dwarven city probably wasn't the best of courses.
"You'll be stopping off for supplies at the town five miles hence then?" asked Jorgen.
"Indeed." squeeked Sarris, before looking daggers at Dominic.

***

Approaching the town, the group heard some sort of commotion.
"Market day?" wondered Kevin.
"Possibly," replied Sarris.
All thoughts of it being market day were banished however when they found the corpse, three hundred yards from the town.
Kevin knelt beside the body. "He was killed recently. The corpse is fresh."
"Go in with weapons draw, eh?" said the dwarf to Jorgen, who nodded, and mounted his bull.
You go ahaid, I'll catch up once I've done a quick investigation on this body."
A minute later the moomin had suttled back to the party.
"What did you find?" whispered Annette in his ear.
"Nothing. I just wanted a bit of that fresh blood. Might come in useful, no?" whispered Kevin back, and winked.
"We're going in," said Dominic. "Lets take a look at what the hell is going on here."

Annette Morris

Kevin had been my life saver. Without his packets of blood, I'd be...well you don't want to even go there. Lets just say, someone would be dead.

I was the one who stayed in the back of this "gang" and honestly I had no clue where we were going, I just wanted to feel accepted into a type of society even if it was just 3 or more people. I was happier in a group then I was ever alone. Security I guess?

There was a smell that made my nose instantly crinkle, at first I had no clue what it was, but then I realized, "dead animal blood." I say. No one heard me, thankfully. People would never understand the difference in dead animal blood and the fresh blood from an animal that was just murdered mere seconds ago, there is definitely a difference.

I stayed back from where the group of people were huddled, the sky looked pretty and I was thankful it wasn't pouring down rain, not to mention the things that had happened the night before. "Maybe I shouldn't come with y'all." I tell them, mainly talking to Kevin since he was the only person I really talked too.

They all looked at me as though I was crazy. "Don't yall understand that if I wanted to, I could instantly kill any one of you I wanted, if not all." I tell them.

They shrugged and I let out a small laugh. "Yall are quite my type of people." I tell them and begin the walk again on our journey.

~Renalf~

Oqrol yelled in terror. The man, or rather elf uttered three words in the Ancient Tongue. Within an instant a blast of magic erupted from the elf's wand, knocking Oqrol to the ground in an instant. Renalf bent over his old enemy and prodded him with his staff.

"Is he dead?" Renalf asks the elf. "I can't quite tell."

"Let me see," a moomin troll says stepping forward and peering over the limp body. "I, being a certified barber surgeon, would say that he most definitively is."

"What?" Renalf exclaims, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "A certified barber surgeon?"

"That's right," the troll replies. "I am not just a typical doctor you know. I have special um... er shall we say... qualifications."

"I see," Renalf replies, clearly disgusted with the moomin. And who are all these other friends of yours? Some of them don't look too charming. But what could an elf, a man, a moomin troll, and a dwarf be doing traveling together?" Renalf says as he notices more members of the party than before. "Not to mention a vampire! I don't like this. I don't like it at all. Most likely you'll get me involved in some quest. I wouldn't be surprised if it was doomed to fail too. Oh well. That's my fate I suppose. And it's better than working for Lord YellowFeather at that!"

"Well I have no idea who Lord YellowFeather is, but the reason we are traveling together is because we all need to get to Gzomriflt."

"My. That's interesting. I see why the dwarf would want to go there but what about you and the vampire? The likes of you would do more damage than good most likely, even if you are a moomin and not a mountain troll."

"Are you insulting me. Why I've had a couple close run ins with mountain trolls. You better believe me! They are nasty compared to me. They're just as bad as dragons or giants. They even dare to use me as a football!"

Renalf chuckled when he heard the last comment before replying. "Well in that case I guess you can be trusted. You did help to defeat one of my worst enemies after all. But if all of us are supposed to get to Gzomriflt, we'd best get some horses. Fortunately for us, we have a number of raiders who would be obliged to give us theirs." Turning to the black soldier from a far land he said, "Roco, go around and collect six of the finest horses."

"What about me?" The small creature hiding behind the elf inquired. "Sarris Rumbollon Fringlepuff, archiver and collector of Magical items for the House of Trumpleton shall not go without a horse, sir."

"What?! Oh. A Ollemcrat I see. Humph! You shall have to ride with the elf I suppose. You can't use the reins very well. Even if you could, I don't think you could see very well."

"What?" the Ollemcrat said, his voice rising an octave or two higher. "I protest! I am an Ollemcrat I need no reins or stirrups. I need but speak with the horse and tell him whither I shalt go. Now fetch me a horse good master—" his voice trailed off, unsure of the man's name.

"Roco," Renalf prompted. "His name is Roco."

"Well then, master Roco, fetch me a horse that I may ride." Roco would have protested, but Renalf shot him a warning glance.

Roco turned, and was just about to procure the horses when another protest arose this time from the dwarf.

"What about me?" he said in a voice just as deep as the cat's was high pitched and squeaky. "I have never ridden a horse before and I don't want to start now!"

"Don't worry." Roco said. "We have a spare pony in the barn you may ride him."

The dwarf grunted in complaint, but eventually gave in.

"Now for introductions." The dwarf said diplomatically. I am Kollek the Crested, Dwarven Render, Grudgeholder, Bearer of Sorrows. This is my friend, Jorgen."

"I am Kevin," the moomin said, continuing the introductions. "This is Anette Morris, and the elf is Dominic. Finally the Ollem thingamacat is Sarris as you already know."

"I am Renalf Garthy, the teal wizard, sent from the Island of Immortals by the green sage, helper of men. This is Roco, a mercenary from a distant land. That dead man is Oqrol the deceiver.

Now, if you take my advice, we'd better be going."

Five minutes later the entire company was in the saddle (exept for Sarris) and on the road.

Dominic

I don't like this at all. To think that I was alone and at peace but a few days ago, and now I'm stuck with this party! I can still tolerate the Ollemcrat and moomintroll, and maybe even the Dwarf and the vampire, but this Wizard and two Humans!! Ugh!
The now large party made their way north through the Tommarian Plains. Leading the party was Dominic on his horse Shadow with Sarris beside him on a grey horse. Behind them rode Kevin and Anette, who seemed to have become rather close. The wizard Renalf and his dark-skinned friend Roco rode behind them, with Jorgen and Kollek brought up the rear.
They rode for about three hours before they saw a large river slice across the countryside.
"Behold," Renalf said, "the mighty Inmoden River! It slices through the province all th way to the Great Sea in the West."
"Is there somoewhere where we can cross it safely?" Sarris asked, turning his head to talk to the Human wizard.
"Safely, no," he said, "All of the bridges are either broken down or in Dragon, Goblin or Troll territory. All except for the Great Toll Bridge."
"The Great Toll Bridge?" Kevin inquired.
"Yes, but expect a fight. The Bandits in control of it have sorcerors og their own."
"Can't we just pay'em?" Kollek asked.
Renalf snorted before replying, "Not unless you're willing to sacrifice yourself to eternal slavery."
"Eternal slavery?!" Kevin exclaimed.
"Aye, and for a large group like this they will most likely demand three or four lives."
"I think it will be safer to fight our way past, then," Kollek said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"How far are we from the Bridge?" Dominic asked.
"About four leagues, I should say," Renalf answered.
The company rode on in sillence for several minutes before Anette spoke. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at a black smudge on the side of an hill.
"A cave, by the looks of it," Jorgen said, "I think we should go see what's inside."
"I agree," Sarris said, "Maybe we can find something to help us past the Toll Bridge."
Kollek and Kevin nodded in agreement, and thus Dominic reluctantly led the party towards the cave.
Or maybe it's some Goblin Lair or something like it.
They reached the cave in less than an hour. The gaping black hole actually had some rough stairs leading down, and there were a few torches in wall sconces down the hallway. A unearthly and cool breeze was streaming out of the cave.
"I don't like this at all," Renalf voiced the thought that Dominic was thinking.
But before anyone could reply, Anette dismounted and knelt by the top of the staircase. She seemed to be smelling something before standing up and looking at them.
"Werewolf," she said, "and injured by the looks of it."
At that precise moment, a long whine echoed out of the cave, but strangely enough, Dominic could understand it. The voice spoke in the ancient Tongue of the Elves.
"Raash mo'lin pendru," Dominic repeated what the werewolf had said.
"What?" Roco, who had been mostly silent, said.
"It's Ancient Elvish."
"What does it mean?" Roco demanded.
Dominic cast a irritated glance at Renalf as the said translated. "The voice said: 'I'm bqdly wounded. Please help.'"
"Then let's help him," Kevin said, dismounting and heading into the cave with his backpack.
All Dominic could do is sigh and follow the reat as they descended into the cave.

Fennik Chopin

Kites are a marvelous invention truly, especially when you can command the wind. I strummed my lute blowing my kite across Tommarian plains and dragging me along at the waist. I had been told I needed to find some adventurers. All I knew was their destination the ruins of Gzomrifit and what they were trying to get, a powerful magic item known as the Quill of the Dwarfs. It was said to be able to grant immortality but as greenwalkers are practically immortal that was not what had his interest. The door in to the ruins was said to have not been breached since their sealing and I had decided to take the challenge to open it.

Greenwalkers were one of the magic beings similar to perhaps an eleven druid but far more powerful. If even the smallest plant grew beyond that door I could easily get in by teleporting to it's location. Also with the Sword of Leaves I could make plants grow from nothing and with Zephyr's Lute which could create a hurricane on a clear day. Well a simple door stood little to no chance against me. As I rushed across the plains I noticed some horses outside of a cave and decided to investigate. I slowed my self cut loose the kite and put away my lute. I waved goodbye to the kite knowing I may never see it again and resigning it to ever travel the winds.

Even if they weren't the adventurers I sought I could easily fall in with them and keep up with a horse without a kite. I entered the cave and saw a bizarre group. I first noticed the Ollemcrat and moomintroll followed by the dwarf. What interested me most though was why a vampire, two wizards, and two humans had fallen in to this odd assortment. I decided a greeting would probably be best, "Hi I'm Fennik Chopin, a Greenwalker, master of the Sword of Leaves as well as Zephyr's Lute, and who might you interesting group of travelers be?"

What Kevin saw looked like a carnival escapee. He looked raggle taggle at best, and was covered in leafy tattoos. The title he had just given sounded ludicrous, and as far as Kevin was concerned, he was insane.
"Oh really? What a coincidence! I'm the Prince of Gondoland! Pleased to meet you!"
Dominic looked at Kevin. "He really is that."
"Ah."
Kevin, upon realizing his slight mistake, took evasive action, and scurried behind Dominic, who promptly took a step to the left. The Moomin then ran again, his cover being blown, and hid behind Annette.
"I guess you are the band traveling northwards towards the dwarven city then?"
"How did you know that?" queried Dominic.
Kevin emerged from his hiding place to say "He has 'contacts' in the quest industry." before hiding once again behind Annette.
"Exactly." said (as Kevin liked to call him) The Incredible Tattooed Man. "I can speak to bird and beast to gather news."
Pleasantries were cut short as a howl of desperation and pain echoed through the cavern.
"Don't sound good." Annette said to Kevin.
"Personally to me it sounds a lot better than a healthy werewolf," he replied, "these ones hurt less."

~Renalf~

Renalf whirled as he heard a voice behind him.

"Oh really? What a coincidence! I'm the Prince of Gondoland! Pleased to meet you!" Kevin said.

Dominic looked at Kevin. "He really is that." Renalf rolled his eyes.

"Ah." Fennik said, understanding what the elf wizard said.

Kevin scurried behind Dominic, who promptly took a step to the left. Renalf snorted. Will those two ever behave? The Moomin ran, his cover being blown, and hid behind Annette. Renalf turned and stared into the wall shaking his head at the moomin's antics.

"I guess you are the band traveling northwards towards the dwarven city then?" Fennik said. Renalf turned his head sharply when he heard that.

"How did you know that?" Dominic asked in the same manner as I reacted.

Kevin emerged from his hiding place to say, "He has 'contacts' in the quest industry." before hiding once again behind Annette.

"Exactly! I can speak to bird and beast to gather news," Fennik said.

All of a sudden a howl of desperation and pain echoed through the cavern. Renalf instantly drew Darowë from its sheath.

"Don't sound good." Annette said to Kevin. Renalf ignored the atrocious grammar for the moment, but filed it away for future reference.

"Personally to me it sounds a lot better than a healthy werewolf," Kevin replied, "these ones hurt less." Renalf furrowed his brow before replying.

"We shall see, we shall see. Now... let's brace ourselves for a fight!"

Annette Morris

Being with a big group of people sort of made me nervous. I hated being there a certain period of time.

"I must go." I tell Kevin. "Where will you go?" he asked.

"Just away. I will find yall again when time is right." I say. He looked at me like I was crazy, I guess I was doing something he wouldn't do. I felt free again and took off.

"Where is she going?" I heard someone ask.

No reply. I smiled. I had made about two friends since I had been on that short of a trip. Me, not being a real people person, ran up and sat in the nearest tree. I felt the breeze and there it was. "Blood." I mumble to myself.

My eyes immediately turned to a light red and I could taste the B positive blood without even trying too.

"Breathe." I mumble, talking to myself. I didn't need human blood and I had been fine without it. Animal blood is what I needed.

"Whose there?" I heard someone yell.

"Shit." I say to myself. I must have been spotted. Luckily the human wasn't even looking at me, so I knew they didn't see me. I settled into the tree branches slowly and just laid there.

The party ran through the cave, Dominic in the lead, with a small light-source flickering around his head, illuminating the caves and drawing out the shadows. Annette had disappeared, back to the entrance, (Kevin suspected she was having some sort of hunger-pang,) and they found the were-wolf about 75 meters or so. Dominic was the first to see him, lying on the floor, a long arrow buried in his shoulder. At first he just looked like a large man, but as Dominic came closer and allowed the flickering point around his head to cast it's eerie light upon the creature it was evident there was a large problem. His entire right arm was covered in grey fur, and ended in sharp claws. Fur also snaked up his neck and onto his face, and his face itself seemed strangely shaped and elongated around the mouth and nose.
Kevin jumped down and looked at him. "This arrow us poisoned. It is a relaxant, so it has slowed the blood flow, but we need to remove the blood from his upper arm, before the poison reaches the heart. Thank God he has just changed from werewolf to human, due to the size difference there should be some spare blood."
The werewolf looked at him through glassy eyes as he said this. He seemed to have little awareness of the situation, not past calling for help, and had seemed to pass into some sort of state of delirium.
Kevin stood up, and shouted at the top of his voice, "Annette! A positive!"
Outside, Annette heard the call. She thought for a dreadful moment so had those below her, but thankfully not, thr humans seemed to engrossed in their own conversation. Annette couldn't make them out too well through the branches, but they seemed to be dressed in an array of fancy silks and velvets, supporting large triple plumed hats, and their faces seemed powdered. At their sides hung long epees, glinting in the sun. If only Annette could get them to turn round, she could jump from the tree, and into the cave. She picked up a piece of fallen branch from the fork of the tree, and weighed it in her hand. It was small, but she had a plan. With force she threw it at the gentlemen's horses, and it struck one of them, making it whinnie. The gentlemen turned, and as they did Annette leaped from the tree and landed running into the cave.
Kevin turned as she approached, and said "This man needs bleeding, about a pint and a half, to get the poison from his bloodstream. The poison won't effect you because it will go through the digestive system, although it may taste a little strange. Normally I would use leaches only I don't have them on me. Are you up for the job?"
The party looked un-nerved, and Sarris looked nothing short of disgusted, but Annette just nodded. Most of the others did their best to look the other way, or start some pointless conversation, however Kevin sat with the patent, every now and then checking for abnormalities in his pulse, whilst dressing and bandaging the wounds on his chest.
After about two minutes his arm started ti change. The claws shrank back into nails, as did the fur, revealing pink skin. Kevin turned to Annette. "I think you've done it."
Annette looked up and smiled.
Kevin held his pocket handkerchief out to her. "I think you've got a little, just around your, umm..."
Annette took the handkerchief and looked away quickly as she wiped the blood from her mouth.
"The patient's looking better," she said once she had.
"We'll have to spend the night here I'm afraid," said the Moomin. "It will take a number of hours for his wounds to heal."

Jorgen Holdt

Stairs descended into the dark that the two wizards now led them into. They disapeared into the inky black as a musty smell assaulted their nostrils. The one called Dominic led the way, Jorgen and Kollek taking up the rear. As they went deeper into the cave, the vampire who was walking in front of them turned abruptly to leave, pushing past Jorgen as she did so. She was cold, unsurprisingly, and seemed in a hurry. Jorgen understood. He did not want to be here. There was no reason to be meddling with a wounded werewolf. He had no reason to travel with a troll, or an elf, or wizards, or a strange tattooed druid...

When they saw it, there was an arrow lodged deep into its shoulder. It's arm and head was still covered in fur, as if it were stuck in the cursed, lycanthropic state. The moomin went quickly to work, announcing something about the alphabet up through the cave. This was evidently significant to the vampire, who returned quickly. The moomin started talking to the vampire called Annette, and she drank deep of the wounded werewolf.

"Do you trust it?" Jorgen asked Kollek.

"Don't have t'trust it." Kollek grunted. "We're not helpin it. C'mon." Kollek grabbed Jorgen's wrist, pulling him towards the entrance of the cave, and then silently doubled back. Once out of the cave, they were greeted by two men with swords. I don't have time for this...

"What is it?" Jorgen asked exasperatedly.

"You're with the vampire!" Said one of the man. He held his sword in front of him, like he thought it would protect him of its own accord.

"We saw it in the trees!" Said the other. His sword looked like a saw, as it hadn't been sharpened in a long while.

Jorgen thought for a moment. "Friends..." he began. "The vampire you speak of is of no harm to you. I am Jorgen Warbull, Zealot of the Order of the Silver Sickle. This is my companion, Kollek the Crested. We mean you no harm."

The men hesitated. "You're not with the vampire."

"No." Jorgen smiled winningly. He could see through the canopy that the sky was turning golden. Dusk was falling. A silence from within the cave told him that either the others had fallen asleep, or they had caught on that Jorgen and Kollek have left.

"You're sure?" The other one said.

"Yes, I'm sure." Jorgen said, making his way over to Brutus. Kollek was already on his pony, having mounted her while the men were talking to Jorgen. "And I really must go." He swung his leg gracefully over his saddle. "Good night!" And they sped off into the night, leaving two very confused looking men in the woods.

They ran their mounts at full speed for a length, and the trees thinned a bit as they came back to the river they were to cross. The sky was darkening. Now was a dangerous time to travel.

After the mounts had grown a bit tired they slowed to a brisk walk. They had gone five minutes, and half a league lay behind them. "Are we fighting through the Toll bridge, then?"

"Would make th'most sense." Kollek said. "When we get through them, there'll be no resistance. It'll be easier than busting through Goblins or Trolls, since they'll put up a fight long after we clear the crossing."

"Sounds good to me." Jorgen shook his head with a grin.

Several hours passed. The sun had long gone before they came to the great Toll bridge. Kollek frowned. "It has changed. They rebuilt it." And so it seemed. Before them lay a great wooden bridge, broad enough for three wagon trains to move comfortably in opposite directions, provided they flow single file. Stationed at each end were ten men, as well as an archers parapet on each side of the bridge. It would be hard to fight through. Kollek pulled out a large jug, and started stuffing a shirt into it.

"What's that?" Jorgen asked.

"Dwarven Distilled Potato Vodka." Kollek grinned. "Strongest stuff this world can take." Jorgen recognized the firebomb that Kollek was constructing. Suddenly, a voice from behind them made them turn. A woman's voice.

"Why did you run?" it asked. As Jorgen whirled around, he saw that it was the vampire.

"None of yer buisness, blood drinker." Kollek spat. The vampire raised an eyebrow.

"I could kill both of you in an instant if I wanted." She threatened. "So watch your..."

"Don't be so sure of yerself, bat." Kollek spat, grinning broadly. Jorgen tended to agree.

"You really shouldn't." Jorgen recalled the vampires from Falkengard. "We've dealt with worse. We know what we're doing." The vampire shook her head, evidently not fazed.

"You didn't answer my question." She said persistently. "Why did you leave?"

"Tried to leave earlier." Jorgen said.

"Bloody elves... AND a troll." Kollek scowled deeply. "They have no business in Khazad Grom."

"Kevin isn't bad..." said the Vampire. "He's kind."

"I don't doubt it." Jorgen said quickly.

"Just run back to your friends, vampire." Kollek said, as they drew attention from the bridge. "You don't need to see us work. C'mon, Jorgen, we're busy now."

"Right. Let's do it." Jorgen and Kollek strode towards the bridge, Kollek lighting the shirt in his jar as he did so. They didn't draw any weapons until they came to the edge of the bridge. All the while, however, Jorgen could feel the gaze of the vampire as he walked to his next fight.

"Halt!" called one of the guards, if you could call them that. The bandit approached. "You lot have got to pay the..." But the man didn't finish. Jorgen had kicked him right in the middle of his chest, knocking him back several feet. Faster than any of the other men could react, he ripped his sword from its scabbard and drew it in a quick swipe accross another mans gut. Blood spilled onto the wood of the bridge. There was a shattering sound, followed by several screams. A bright light, coupled with an intense heat came from Jorgens right. This told him that Kollek's bomb had worked. Kollek whirled his axe about like a demon, turning it in the air so quickly and precisely, that massive axe carving arcs in the air. The strength it must have took...

There was a roar as Brutus got jealous, running across flames and ripping through guards. Jorgen parried as another guard swung at him with a sword, returning by turning the blow and bashing the man in the face with the pommel of his sword. As the man stumbled back, another took his place wielding a mace. Jorgen ran him through the chest. Another man stepped forward, only to be cut down. This went on for several minutes.

Suddenly, his body was wracked with pain as, dazed, he was flung almost over the side of the bridge. There was a bright flash. Vaguely, through his foggy vision, he made out the silhouette of a robed man, who was readying another spell. Jorgen had dropped his sword, and he bent to pick it up as he ran to reach the robed man, using his free hand to draw his sickle. The divine silver weapon radiated natural power. Another bolt of magic flew from the wizards outstretched hand, and Jorgen's hand burned agonizingly as he parried it away with the sickle. An ordinary weapon would have melted.

The wizard frantically readied another spell as Jorgen reached him. Jorgen was faster, cutting through the wizards guards before eventually bringing his sword around in a clumsy arch, biting through the bones in the wrist of the wizard. The spell fizzled and popped, as the man clutched the stump that was his hand. Jorgen, having already killed several men in this fight, decided to spare the old sorcerer. Fire rose around him, and many bandits were fleeing the chaos, forsaking the bridge.

There was a series of thuds, and Jorgen looked to Kollek. Nobody was fighting him, and he was on the other side of the bridge. He was striking at the bridge with his mighty axe. In just four mighty strokes, he ripped through the timbers on one side. The bridge lurched. Jorgen ran accross, yelling as he did so. "Brutus!" he called. "Gurdy! Come!"

The two beasts ran across the burning bridge as Kollek had his way with the other timbers. Once they were safely across, Kollek struck down with all his might. The bridge slid down into the river below with a creaking and cracking like lightning, and the force of the river pulled it away in one piece, and it tumbled hissing and smouldering downriver.

And the vampire watched with an awed expression from the bank.

Jorgen gasped, his arm aching from the force of the magic spell he had parried. His sickle was still glowing angrily as he sheathed it. He cleaned his sword on a handkerchief, which he then tied to the branch to commemorate the battle that happened here. "Nice fight with th'mage." Kollek said. "Handled like an expert, I'd say." Kollek, too, was breathing heavily.

Jorgen sighed. "All in a days work." as he pulled several apples from his pack, feeding some to Brutus, some to Gurdy, and one for himself. They were smiling now. Jorgen looked at the Vampire who was still on the bank. Wonder if she'll cross... he thought. She could just jump the river... Jorgen shrugged, deciding the less people who made it to Gzomriflt, the better for Kollek's cause.

They mounted their respective mounts, and traveled for several more hours into the night. When they finally stopped, a very large city was on the horizon. Dawn was coming, and they reached the gates of the city. The guards didn't ask questions, simply opening the gates. Jorgen recognized the city as Buldenheim, a bustling metropolis bordering the northern mountain region. "We're close." Kollek said.

Jorgen guided Brutus through the bustling streets, Kollek following on his right, as crowds parted in front of them, beggars calling up at them. Jorgen kept his guard up, not wanting to be pick pocketed. In the end, they settled on a Dwarven inn, finding them to be the friendliest to Jorgen at least, as he was famous amongst the dwarves and men. They got a room and, after a short drink, slept for a few hours, until mid day.

Dominic

Roco was the first to notice that Jorgen and Kollek had disappeared. He whispered something in Renalf's ear before the said exclaimed, "I knew there could come nothing good of letting them take up the rear!"
Dominic, who was talking to Fennik, turned around sharply, his eyes peering into the darkness. He turmed around again to look at Sarris (who was reading something on the wal, and where Anette was just finishing up by the werewolf. He pointed at Renalf before pointing towards the entrance.
"We should go and see if we can find them," he told Renalf.
"I presume our situation couldn't get worse," Renalf mumbled as he reluctantly accompanied Dominic to the entrance. When they reached the entrance, however, it wasn't Jorgen and Kollek who were waiting for them outside, but rather two armed fellows who drew their weapons when they saw the two wizards approaching.
"More people?!" the one exclaimed in a strange voice, "Who are you?"
Dominic and Renalf quickly glanced at each other before using spells on the two soldiers. Renalf used the immobilizing spell, Tres hroth, on the one, while Dominic used the binding spell, Hel o-Minar, which bound the other in magical ropes.
"I don't have time for lollygaggers as yourself," Dominic said.
"What were you doind here?" Renalf demanded.
"We were looking for the vampire, that's all,"the bound soldier said in a frightened tone.
"Well go look some place else," Renalf said, "There's no vampire here!"
"But we.." Dominic used Quetar, or silencing spell on him. He walked over to the horses.
"They left about four minutes ago," he said before turning around towards the cave, "Anette!"
Almost instantly the vampire appeared in front of Dominic. "Yes?" she said, only casting a brief glance at the prisoners.
"See if you can find out where Kollek and Jorgen went," Dominic said, "I believe they went in a north-easternly direction."
"I'll see what I can find." With that she disappeared in the said direction.
"What should we do with these two?" Renalf asked as Dominic came to stand next to him.
"We can always turn them into rats," Dominic suggested.
"I don't like rats."
"Two brids then."
"Very well." Dominic quickly used the Avinanza spell and turned them into tiny little finches, who flew away when they saw the oppurtunity.
The two wizards went back into the cave silently conversing about the two fellows they just encountered. Down in the cave, Kevin was busy tending to the now man and Sarris was still staring at an inscription on the wall. Roco was sitting on a low stone beside the opposite wall. Kevin turned around and looked up at the wizards.
"Where's the others?" he asked.
"Anette went to look for Jorgen and Kollek," Renalf said.
"Ah," Kevin said before he turned back to his patient.
"Dominic," Sarris said, not turning away from the wall, "look at this."
What Dominic saw looked like normal cracks in the wall, but at closer inspection they started forming words.
"By Istar!" he exclaimed, "It's the Ancient language of the Humans!"
"What does it say?" Sarris asked, slightly adjusting his spectacles.
"Let me see," Dominic started reading the words aloud, "Stae iwae fro de cete o Deela. I don't know what it means."
"It's kind of obvious," the werewolf said in a low, growling voice.
"What was that?" Dominic asked confused.
"I said it's obvious," the werewolf repeated, "It says, 'Stay away from the city of Deela.'"
"City of Deela?" Sarris asked.
"Don't you know the goddess of Curses, Deela the Wolf? Her city, the city of the Cursed is down this tunnel."
"I've never heard of this city," Renalf said with a snort.
"Of course you wouldn't, because your not cursed. Like me."
"How far is this city?" Dominic asked.
"About fifteen minutes. It lies on the subterrean river that flows under th Indonem."
"Under the Indonem!" Renalf said, bursting out into laughter, "Next your going to tell me that giants still exist!"
Just then the tunnels started shaking. Sarris yelped and ran behind Dominic. Even Fennik, who had been standing in a niche in the wall stepped forward, sword in hand.
The shaking continued, this time being dollowed by a thundering noise eminating from deeper down the cave. Dominic barelt noticed Anette return.
"Hey, I found Jorg.." she ndidn't finish her sentence. Because there, appearing from the shadows, were two armored giants. They carried large spears, and one looked like an officer. This officer mumbled some incomprehensible language. The werewolf turned to face the rest.
"They want to take us to the leader of the city. The priestess of Deela."

Even though it was already three hours since dawn, the town of Alonza was still in the process of waking. Women were sweeping their porches or washing their floors while their husbands mostly snored away, few hawkers were already travelling from house to house, and the streets were very slowly filling with people going to work.

None of that interested the mottled grey Ollemcrat who was walking down the street though. He had been walking since dusk the previous day, and at that moment, he had eyes for only one building: The Drunken Dwarf.

He entered the tavern and made for the bar. In one swift movement, he jumped from the floor onto the barstool, boots and all, and slid a silver coin across the counter towards the barkeep.

“A Castle!” he exclaimed. “But sir, a pint of wine only costs seven Towers – this is forty-three too many.”

“Then consider my tab paid,” the Ollemcrat said nonchalantly.

“Of course, sir. Oh, and my spare room is open to you, and you alone, whenever you need it.”

The Ollemcrat did not respond, but simply jumped off the barstool and approached a booth where a pretty young lass was chatting up the town’s sheriff. His hair was already greying, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Pardon my interruption–” the Ollemcrat began.

The girl stopped talking and searched for the voice. Finally, she realised that it had come from below. “Aww, what a cute little kitty!” she cooed, but almost immediately she ignored him and returned to her flirting with the sheriff.

“Dear lady,” the Ollemcrat said with a slightly raised voice, causing the young woman to look at him in irritation, “this is a tavern, not a brothel, so if you are looking for a potential client, I advise you go search elsewhere.”

The girl stood up with an indignant huff and stomped out of the tavern. The Ollemcrat happily took her seat.

“Why did you have to do that?” the sheriff complained, a disappointed expression on his face. “Do you know how difficult it is to find a woman who is still interested in a man in his fifties?”

“She’d overcharge you and steal from you what she could anyway,” the Ollemcrat replied indifferently.

“Diánterrus, why can’t you just go to the notice boards in front of the town hall and my office and read the wanted posters there?”

“Because your deputy is lax and would rather spend his time with the girl I just chased away; there are still posters of those robbers I killed a few months ago on there.”

“Oh, bloody hell!” the sheriff muttered under his breath. “Fine!” Diánterrus produced an elegant, black leather-bound notebook and an ornamented silver pen. “There have been three new posters, or contracts, or whatever you want to call ‘em, in the past few weeks. The most recent was yesterday: a woman reported her husband missing after two days. She’s offering thirty Towers to whoever can find him and bring him back to her.”

As he was writing keywords down, Diánterrus said, “He’s probably passed out in alley somewhere or is hiding at his mistress’ place – I bet he hasn’t even left town.”

“Easiest payday of your life, then?” the sheriff muttered, still upset about his potential date having been chased away.

“Place of residence?” Diánterrus asked.

“Three streets down, opposite the shrine of Obad-Hai.”

Diánterrus’ pen scribbled across the page as he wrote the facts down. “The other contracts?” he asked.

“A while ago, some raiders attacked the town of Evincourt, to our west. I’m not certain what had gone down, but apparently the leader was slain and his raiding party disbanded. One of these former raiders fancied himself a bandit after that, and ever since, he has been raiding the trading route between us and Eisentower to the south.”

“He’ll be dead within a day,” Diánterrus muttered. “Reward?”

“Thirty-five Towers.”

“Getting stingy, are we?” the Ollemcrat mused.

“I can’t pay you a Castle for every bandit you kill!” the sheriff protested.

Diánterrus shrugged and continued writing on his pad. Without looking up, he asked, “And the last contract?”

“Well… this one is different. I’m not so sure… You see, the wanted party is another Ollemcrat.”

Diánterrus finished writing and waited. After a pause, he looked up and locked his gaze with the sheriff’s. “And?”

“It’s just, he’s your kind, you know?”

“I have seen humans and elves kill each other for less.”

“Fair point…” the sheriff admitted. “Except this one is wanted alive.”

“By whom?”

“Some friend of the governor of Eisentower. I am surprised you don’t know of it already; his poster was on practically every wall in the town.”

“I came from the east,” Diánterrus said simply. “So, what are his crimes?”

“Perjury, theft, and academic sabotage.”

“Reward?”

“One Crown.”

Diánterrus’ scribbling stopped. He didn’t look up, but his tone was amazed when he spoke. “How come nobody’s gone after him yet? With a bounty that high, people would even consider coming after me.”

“Don’t be so sure,” the sheriff said seriously, “even if that amount was doubled, tripled, even, only a fool would go after you – people fear you, whether you know about it and want it that way or not. But no, this one has somewhat of a possy. He passed through here more or less a week ago, and was it not for his friends, he’d have been apprehended long ago. In fact, his bounty is that high because of his little band.”

“Of what does his company consist?”

“I don’t know. A Wizard, some round sluggish thing, perhaps someone else, but that’s as much as I know.”

When Diánterrus finished writing, he put away his notebook and pen and slid out of the booth.

“Good day, Sherrif. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a husband to find.”

~Renalf~

Renalf drew Darowë and watched as the two giants emerged from the cave, spears in hand.

"What do you know?" He asked. "Things just got even worse. Oh well..." he muttered before addressing the giants. "You know. You two really have nice spears. Maybe you should take some time to admire them."

They looked at him as if he were crazy, then at their spears. In an instant they were blinded by the reflection. Renalf sprang forward and swung at the bigger one's leg. The giant cried out in pain and stumbled back.

"Tel Rothë!" Renalf yelled. Instantly a spring of water welled up around the giants' feet. With one "giant" step however, they leaped out of it. Renalf cast a second spell and watched as the stream began to follow the giants. Turning to the werewolf he said, "Now look who's cursed!"

"That'll only keep them busy for a short time though..." Dominic said. "We will have to think of something else to get rid of them."

Renalf thought quickly. Almost immediately he voiced an idea. "I can break into the two men's minds. You know, the ones we turned into birds. I will send them after the giants. Since most giants aren't all that clever we should be able to drive them back into the tunnel."

"Maybe." Dominic said reluctantly. "Still though, they will pursue us once they have dealt with the birds. With their long legs they can move nearly as fast as a horse, and we can only go at the pace of Sarris' pony."

"Well we better do something quick." Kevin said, pulling at Renalf's cloak and whining. "They are starting to come after us."

"Oh bother!" Renalf exclaimed. "Elot Kirith teltroth de abdwur!" Dominic yelled.

"Translation," Roco said turning Renalf for an explanation. "I believe it is, 'Fiend-Giants go back to your goddess.'" Dominic nodded in affirmation.

The giants cowered and slunk back into the cave. Their spears quivered as if they were being shaken by an earthquake."

"Well, let's hope the spell is strong enough. I think it will be, but their mistress is quite powerful. We may yet have to deal with them in the next few days. We better get a good lead on them."

"I shouldn't be surprised if we were to be ambushed by them tonight. I've heard that the dragons are on the prowl too. I never want to meet one of those. That probably means that I will be their target for tonight. I guess that just means a cold night with no fire."

"Oh bother!" I'll freeze. At least all but my head. My hat will keep it warm."

"You know," Renalf began. "I almost think you look more dignified without a hat!"

-Caioliss-

The queen's nails grip my throat, and my vision blurs. "Please, your majesty, don't-"

"Your allegiance lies with me, does it not, Caioliss?"

"Yes, Aunt, but-"

"I have a task for you to perform. Well, tasks, really. Until you complete them, you may not come home."

I had learned through experience that arguing got me nowhere, so I just nodded as best I could.

"Good girl." Although the words are sweet, her tone is filled with malice, and I flinch away from her. "I now banish thee to the mortal realms, Caioliss Laiere Fenthclann, changeling princess!" A hole appears in the floor next to us, and with a simple push from her, I fall through. The air rushes past me, and I see the ground approaching, closer, closer, closer- and then everything goes dark as my head slams against a rock.

I sit up with a gasp, hand automatically going to the bump on my head. As I sit up, my foot strikes a tree, and I hiss in pain. "Goddess, is this really the mortal realm? Niamh help me." I notice a heavy pack next to me and pull out it's contents. First, there are some clothes, then a cloak to wear for cold and rain. Underneath that is food, and finally, a pouch full of gold. Something glints in between the layers of cloth, and I tug on it. A small, ornate mirror falls out, and I recognize it as a scrying glass. As I watch, her majesty's face comes into focus.

"Ah, Caioliss, you're awake. Good. Hopefully, you've seen that I've given you provisions. This is how I will give you your tasks, and you will report to me when you complete them." I nod, absently fingering my mother's locket through the cloth it is wrapped in. "Your quarterstaff will have landed near you, I think, and there are daggers in the lining of the bag. You should also be wearing a drinking horn."

"Yes, Aunt, that is so." I look quickly, and see the horn at my waist. I'd have to inspect it later to see how it worked.

"Very well. Here is your first task. There will be two men approaching a bridge. You are to follow them and tell me what they are doing. This mirror will only work for you at dusk, so be sure to remember to scry, neice."

"Yes, my queen." She gives me a sharp nod and fades out of the glass. I start to put it away, and then stop. Touching a finger to the glass, I think of Aodhan. His eyes, his voice, his smile- all of it floods my mind, making my heart hurt. A ripple under my fingers tells me that I am watching him, so I look down. I recognize his room and smile as I see him laughing. The rest of the scene comes into focus, then, and I see a faerie girl on his arm, smiling flirtatiously up at him. My temper surges, and I swipe a hand through the image, making the mirror go blank. Resisting the urge to throw the mirror, I put it carefully back in the bag and slip the cloak on over my shoulders. I touch the fine black cloth underneath the gray fur and smile. Even if I was in a mortal realm, at least I still had a connection to Isenor, to home.

I stand up, and test for injuries. I fell fine, apart from my head, so I look around for my staff. Seeing it's familiar form against a tree, I grip the cool metal. I fasten the cloak, put the bag over my shoulder, and look around to see which direction I should walk.

The sound of voices draws me, and I pad silently through the trees until I see a massive bridge. Two men- one of them short and stumpy, the other regular sized, fight their way across the bridge. That must be who I'm supposed to be following. I see a woman watch them, and then run away, faster than a mortal could. Huh. I wait until the men are out of sight and then emerge from the cover of the trees. I glamour my hair to appear darker, and straighter, my skin to appear more waxen, my eyes to be dull. I slouch a bit and walk with a limp, as if I was a cripple. Nobody appears, though, and I let the glamour drop after I get under the cover of trees again.

The sun slowly fades out of sight, and I keep walking, following the men at such a distance that I could see them, but that I could not hear them. Neither notices me- after all, who could touch a faerie in the arts of deception and thieving? As dawn approaches, they approach a city looming in the distance. As soon as they enter through the gates, I scurry forward, glamour up, disguised as a blonde haired, blue eyed, very mortal girl. The guards let me in with no questions, although they do look at my clothes oddly. The other mortals I see are clad in dark colors in rough cloth. I draw the cloak around me and glamour my clothing to look like everyone else when no one can see me, as I follow the men again.

They approach an inn and take a drink. I had changed my appearance slightly; my hair a shade darker, my eyes no longer blue, but brown- my nose less shapely. Best not to be noticed by anyone here- and a beautiful girl would certainly attract some sort of attention. I order a drink and retreat to a far corner. Instead of drinking it, I place it in front of me and surreptitiously grip the drinking horn. I take a quick sip, and the taste of wine floods my mouth. I sigh in disappointment.

"I wish it were water," I mutter. Resigning myself to the wine, I drink again- but to my surprise, I am now drinking cool, clear water. The horn was bottomless- and catered to the drinker's choice of beverage, apparently. I take a longer drink and sit back, resigned to wait for the men to come down again.

Annette Morris

I was asked to go and search for Kollek and Jorgen. So, I went on my search, which wasn't long.

I found them and they acted as though they didn't want me to come along, but me being me, I had to watch from a distance and I guess you could say, follow them. The bridge appeared broke, but that wouldn't stop me.

Once they were a little ways away I suspected they'd know that I would be following. Being a vampire had its perks. I got to jump over the river without even using a bridge, but of course I looked around to make sure no one was near to see what I did.

I saw them about half a mile in front of me, but I didn't want them to know I was following. Slowly, I stayed a mile away. All of a sudden I had a hunger pang, it was quite irritable if I might add.

"I must hunt, quickly." I say.

I took off down a little trail and searched, hoping no one would bother trying to find me.