Young Writers Society

Dominic

The Sanctum of Deela was bussling with black robed priests and priestesses, all of them different creatures. Fur pelt carpets covered the most of the floor,.onyx tiles showing where the carpets didn't covered the floor. Candles were burning dimly in wall sconces, giving the Sanctum a eerie atmosphere.
The shadow figures and the Messenger continued to lead the party down the the central passage, the candles and clergy slowly becoming less.
"Wait here," the Messenger said as they reached to large doorways. She stepped forward and gave a single tap against the door, making it echo long on the other side. She stood back as the doors silently creaked open. A cold gust of wind rushed to embrace the party.
"Whatever you do," Xander said, "Don't tell the Priestess your names."
"Silence!"the Messenger turned around and struck Xander through the face, "We are about to come in the prescence of the Priestess of Deela." With that the shadow figures staryed poking at the party with grey spears, forcing them through the doors.
This hall, unlike the rest of the Sanctum, had clear black granite floor and large tapestries hanging on the walls, each depicting an ancient hunting scene. Severals steps led up to the dais on which the Shrine itself was.
The Shrine was a large statue of a goddess, dressed in a long hunting dress, crouching beside a large wolf. In her hand there was a great longbow, an arrow knocked in the string. In front of the statue (which touched the ceiling of the hall) was an altar on which was a large bowl. And beside this Shrine stood the Priestess.
She was slender and tall, with long black hair hanging freely behinf her head.. She was dressed in a slim fitting dark sapphire dress which stretched on long behind her. But it was her eyes that truly captivated Dominic. Her eyes were a pale blue colour, but they had a defiant and intelligent look to them.
"Ah, thank you, Jania," the Priestess said when she took notice of their prescence, "You have the Mistress well. Please leave us now."
The Messengee bowed slightly, before she and the shadow guards left. The Priestess started examining each member of the party individually, her eyes staying on each member for several seconds before moving on to the next. Her eyes fell on Dominic last. .
And yes©, you must be the wizard, a voice sounding like the Priestesess' sounded.
I am Dominic answered briskly.
I was told you were nine in this group,
Clearly your sources can't count, Dominic replied.
You amuse me.. What's your name again? the Priestess asked.
I never gave it to you, Dominic said, And unless you can read my memories:-O, you're not going to it, either.
With that Dominic felt the Priestess's prescence leave his head.
"You all seem unwilling tell me your names," she said speakinf normally again, "but it doesn't matter. The feast of the Hunt is nearly upon us, and Mustress Deela has chosen you seven to be the prey. Guards!"
Four giants and three shadow figures came in.
"Take them to their quarters. Make sure they are fed well. We want them all them all fit and healthy for the Hunt."
As the guards led them away, the Priestess turned aroundand called after them. "Wait! Mistress Deela wishes to speak to the vampire and werewolf."
Anette protested actively, but Xander touched her arm and gave her a "everything-is-going-to-be-alright"-look as the doors of the Shrine hall closed behind the remaining of the party.

~Roco~

The next day Roco awoke early to find that Gamleor up and about already. In addition to this many of the other elves in the party were were missing from their blankets, presumably out hunting. Renalf was gone as well, though Roco had no idea where. His blanket was the only evidence to his existence in the party. I wonder where he could have gone. He can't be hunting. that simply isn't in his character.

Roco stood up and walked over to Gamleor, tapping him on the shoulder. The elf turned to him.

"Renalf is watering the horses." Gamleor said without waiting for Roco to say anything.

"How did you... how did you know I was going to ask you that?" he asked, the suspicion clearly evident.

He had always had a sort of fear of elves before, even though he was never quite sure whether they existed, though now that he knew they did, he was plain old suspicious. In his opinion, elves were creepy and untrustworthy. For this reason he made a point to avoid them at all times.

"I read the worried look on your face and noticed that you were looking at Renalf's blanket intently, with a furrowed brow. Why else would you come over here and tap me on the shoulder? I'm not a dummy after all! Now, why don't you go gather some sticks for the firewood."

Roco did so at once. Anything that got him away from a creepy elf would be inviting to him! Besides, it was better than just sitting around doing nothing.

He moved as quickly to get his blood flowing and hopefully warm him up. He wasn't used to being out in such cold weather, even in Evincourt where he had fought as a mercenary, the weather rarely became cold.

Roco had lived there for six months before departing with Renalf. Ever since then the weather had deteriorated. Roc didn't exactly know why he had decided to go with Renalf, but now he almost wished that he hadn't. I guess it was mainly because of the promise of money, but it seems that there was something more to it than that. I don't know. I guess it was just the prospect of adventure.

Some ten minutes later Renalf walked into the campground and greeted Gamleor, not seeing Roco standing off to the with a pile of sticks in his arms. Roco walked into the center of the clearing and greeted Renalf as cheerily as could be expected, given the circumstances.

"Well, I see you have finally risen this morning. I was wondering when you would."

"The sun only just crested the horizon. That is when I always rise." Roc was a little short with Renalf. After all, he too had been rising at the same hour while they were traveling with the rest of the company.

"Well I suppose so." Renalf said. "Now though, we have a much more urgent task at hand. We must reach and cross the pass of Géor before we it starts to get cold."

"As if it isn't cold already! I'm practically frozen right now." Renalf raised his eyebrows.

"It will only get colder as time goes on and we travel farther north." Renalf said.

"I know that!" Roco said, irritably. "As if I didn't already! The Goblins will become more numerous as well. Now let's start eating if the food is ready.

The Forest of Darpor was no place for travellers, and even if you were in its southernmost part, you still had to keep your wits about you. Every tree, plant and rock Diánterrus passed seemed to emanate an aura of displeasure at his presence - if one was not of the forest, one had no business being there. Well, if Diánterrus could have communicated with the forest itself, he would have said that he did not fancy staying in it for any longer than strictly necessary anyway.

The trees and rocks weren't the only ones dispaying a hostile stance towards him; normal forests were filled with joyous birdsong and miscellaneous animal sounds during the day, but instead, Diánterrus was aware of only the harsh cawing of ravens and the ominous hooting of an eagle owl. He stepped over the gnarled root of a tree when he heard a rustle in the forest litter a few feet behind him.

He muttered, "Tres Hroth," and a second later, he heard a sudden halt in movement directly behind him, accompanied by a whoosh of air spilling over him. He turned around to face his unseen foe, but averted his gaze almost immediately.

"I did not realise Forest Dragons dwelled this far south in the forest," he said, walking over to the immobilised lizard's right flank.

They don't. And I'm a Forest Dragonet."

"Pardon me, but from down here, you seem much larger." The dragonet's lips twitched. "Ah, but I see your size is a moot point - you wish to be fully grown."

How much longer shall I have to endure your mockery?

"Your adolescence is of no importance to me. Rather answer me this: If you truly are not from this far south, what are you doing here?"

Not that that is any of your concern either, but I am hunting.

"Me?" Diánterrus asked amused.

Don't flatter yourself, Ollemcrat.

"It did seem as if I was on the menu."

You still are, but if you release me from this spell, I shall leave without devouring you.

"It is clear diplomacy is not your forte."

Ugh, fine! What do you want?

"Other than being eaten? Telling me who you are hunting is a good place to start."

The dragonet sighed. An Elf, a Moomin, and another Ollemcrat. When Diánterrus said nothing for a few seconds, he remarked, You seem shocked.

"It seems that trio does not know how to avoid creating enemies."

And I suppose you are one of them?

"No, but I have nevertheless been tasked with finding them."

So, I am an incovenience to be dealt with?

"It all depends on who you seek."

I shan't mind feasting on all three of their bloody corpses, but if I must settle for one, then I'd choose the Elf.

Diánterrus looked thoughtful. "Why?"

Vengeance.

"Interesting... I shall make you a deal: If you aid me in capturing the Ollemcrat, for he is the one I seek, I shall let you have your vengeance."

Is that all?

"And, of course, you must promise not to kill me, betray me, or sabotage my endeavours in any way, which includes dispatching any of my associates."

Very well, I accept those terms and promise to reside by them.

"Pardon me for my suspicion, but you cannot possibly expect me to take you by your word?"

I am not aware of any alternative, the dragonet replied smugly.

"I am: the Oath of Istar."

The dragonet's features darkened. You're bluffing. You cannot possibly know the Oath of the God of Truth!

"Oh, but I do. You might want to repeat it after me." Diánterrus took a deep breath and spoke words which rang with divine power. "Ti Liberius Fastus Omni Vishaya, as Don tes Bedresde Sempra tos Ariana."

The dragonet's eyes widened. He seemed reluctant for a moment, but then repeated the Oath. As soon as he had, both he and Diánterrus were enveloped in a warm, blue light and what seemed like a long strand appeared between them. That strand rapidly grew until it seemed like a chain bound the two together. Suddenly, the light simply disappeared - all of it. It was as if it had never been there, for it had no visible effects, other than the participants' reactions.

"We are now bound by Truth in all of its glorious manifestation," Diánterrus stated and walked to face the dragonet, no longer fearing its paralysing gaze. "And Death will be upon whoever breaks the Oath." Diánterrus spoke the words which would free the dragonet.

As the lizard suddenly regained control over its body, it stretched its wings, looked at the Ollemcrat, and shivered. My instinct orders me to attack you, yet my intuition and intelligence warn strongly against it. You have cast something very powerful.

"That was the idea. Now, follow me."

The dragonet fell in step behind Diánterrus. They were silent for a few minutes, when he asked, How did you know of my presence? Very few can sense a forest dragonet - I'm not even mentioning a mature dragon - but even fewer can do something about it.

Diánterrus contemplated the question. "I had tended a beautiful flower a while ago, and alerting me of you was its way of thanking me."

Jorgen Holdt

He knew as soon as he spoke that it was a bad decision. Of course, doing nothing was not the right decision either, but there was something else he could have done. If only he knew what.

As Caioliss ran for the door, the crowd of dwarves parting around her, a dwarf turned to Jorgen. "Whatch'erself, Warbull." He spoke, his tongue heavy with ale. "Better off cuttin'er losses."

"She meant you no harm." Jorgen replied.

"Whatch'erself. She ought to whatch'erself too. Dangerous place fer her like..."

Jorgen shook his head. From the corner of his eye, he thought he caught the form of a brown crested dwarf leaving through the door.

Kollek...


Kollek Kollarsson.

Kollek hated elves. He hated liars. He hated boats, and trees, and long flights of stairs. Most of all, however, he detested bullies. Caioliss was no elf, granted, but Kollek didn't trust her. He watched, conflicted, as the others in the Tavern began to harass the fairy. She left in a huff when Jorgen tried to defend her. She has pride, thought Kollek. He could speak with her...

In the end, he decided she could not be trusted. He rose from his chair, and left after her. She was sitting just outside the tavern, and she turned when she saw him. She gave him a look, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. In the end, she went back to sulking, massaging her temples. He sat next to her. When he did so, she seemed physically discomforted, like he radiated a painful aura. Kollek grinned inwardly, but only for a split second.

"You don't belong 'ere." Kollek said.

"No." She said shortly.

"So you must have some reason for bein' 'ere." Kollek inquired.

She thought for a moment. "You brought me here." She said.

"Yes, I s'pose we did." Kollek scowled. "We also saved your fairy hide."

She paused again. "I can handle myself just fine." She said.

"You would have died." Kollek said, enunciating as clearly and harshly as he could manage. "And we prevented it, we did. Do you know what my people do when one saves us from such peril?"

She said nothing.

"We repay the debt." Kollek said. "So, In return for saving you... The one who attacked you. Who was he?"

Her eyes betrayed her feelings for but a split second. She was angry, sad, and surprised at the question. She did not answer.

"Start with'is name, lass." He said in a low voice.

She remained silent for a long time.

"Do ya know where we're going?" Kollek asked.

She perked up. "Where?"

Kollek grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know."

She looked down again, wrapping herself tightly in her cloak. She's gathering information...

"How long have you been following us?" Kollek said.

"I've not been following you!" she said incredulously. She's lying.

"I don't believe you. You were attacked on the trail not far behind us, but we were not aware of anyone being behind us. Only way was if you sneaked up. You're good at that, I'll wager." Kollek scowled again. "I don't know what you think we're doing, or where you think we're going, but let me tell you..." he rose. "If you make a move to impede us, I'll kill you."

"You underestimate my magic." she spat challengingly. Oh, has she got pride.

"I am more dangerous than anything we will encounter on the road." Kollek promised. "Because I know your game now. I'll be watching you..."

But just then, Jorgen came out the door. He gave Kollek a look. Lay off.

Kollek shot Jorgen a look. She can't be trusted.

Another look from Jorgen. She's just a girl.

She can't be trusted.

Jorgen sighed. She needs us.

She's a Fairy. We should leave her.

No.

Kollek sighed. Caioliss watched in confusion as the two conveyed messages to each other using only facial expressions. She can not be trusted.

Finally, Jorgen spoke. "Come on, let's ride." He turned to the fairy. "I bought you a horse. It's name is Njolduur, meaning honor. As long as honor carries you, you will not lie." Jorgen said. He looked to Kollek for approval, and found none. Jorgen sighed again. "Let's pick up your horse."

Kollek shot her a look. He was not sure if she could read his face like Jorgen could, but he told her outright with the look: I don't trust you. And if you do anything I don't like, I'll kill you.

She scowled back at Kollek, preferring instead to take up the company of Jorgen. He conversed with her, asking her what was wrong, and was she hurt, and did Kollek bother her...

They finally finished stocking up on food, and left around dinner time, though they had just arrived. Khoggar would have to wait for his drink.

~Renalf~

Renalf leapt up as an elf ran into the camp. Yelling like a maniac, if that is at all possible for an elf. Renalf grabbed the elf and told him to stop and say what was the matter.

"All of a sudden, while I was hunting I notice the birds stop chirping. I looked around and saw nothing. Then I smelled something funny and went to investigate. I found out that there is a band of goblins. They are chasing after the rest of our company! We must go and help them!"

Roco looked at Renalf fearfully, his black skin shimmering into a paler shade of brown and his hair sticking up like a lightning rod.

"We can't do much to help them, I'm afraid," Gamleor said in a sorrowful tone. We might be able to cleave off a dozen or so heads with our swords and several more with magic, but we can't save our friends unless they are a small band. How many would you say were in their party?"

"At least fifty or so. What is worse is that they slew Lialer and Gaor without them even realizing the goblins were in the neighborhood. The other eleven are scattered as well!"

"Well, Farwë, I am afraid we will have to leave now," Gamleor said softly.

"How are we supposed to attack the goblins under Géor? They will be far more numerous!"

"We will have help from the gnomes! They were driven out by the goblins and are now more than willing to aid us. They have promised as many as three hundred trident men."

As they were discussing what they should do, they heard some sort of explosion. They instinctively looked toward the direction of the noise. They saw smoke rising and heard cheers echoing through the forest. They weren't the cheers of goblins either...

"Let's go see what just happened!" Renalf said softy.

They walked through the forest. It was comprised of a mixture of deciduous and conifer trees. A constant chatter could be heard. As they neared the skirmish ground they discerned that the noises were coming from a clearing about fifty yards away from where they walked.

"We are alright!" one of the elves called out. To them as he saw them approach. Dilas used a spell to make the goblins pass out. It wasn't all that hard to do, but there were so many goblins that he had to cast the spell on that he is a little light headed. He claims that he will be perfectly fine in a minute though... I think he is going to be just fine! He saved us!"

"I surmised as much after I heard the explosion. However, he will not recover until tomorrow morning. I was hoping that he such a thing could be avoided, but alas it is not so. Still though, I must continue on toward the pass of Géor with the wizard, Renalf. It will be up to you to protect yourselves now."

"I guess that means goodbye then..." the same elf replied.

"Yes! Farewell all my friends. May you all be alive and well when we meet next!"

"May you and your house fare the same," all the other elves replied in unison, echoing the traditional farewell of their people.

Five minutes later Renalf, Gamleor, Finwë, and Roco were all on their way to the Pass of Géor!

-Caioliss-

Later that evening, I dismount from my horse- at least it was a horse. The sky has started to darken, but I don't bother even trying to scry. Anything I do would be watched carefully by Kollek, so there would be no slipping away. After we make camp for the night, I curl up inside of my cloak, trying to sleep, but to no avail. I can feel Kollek's eyes lingering on me every two minutes, so finally, I stand up and pad silently over to him.

"You know, I think you're supposed to be watching for other things, not me."

He snorts. "What, and let you creep away?"

I shrug. "Fair enough." A silence hangs over us, and I sigh.

"His name was Killian Wyrnson." I meet Kollek's eyes and lean against a tree.

"Why'd he attack you?"

I debate whether or not to tell him the entire truth. "Orders from the queen. He's truth-bound to do what she asks of him."

He nods. "Why's your queen trying to kill you?"

I smile. "I don't think she actively trying to kill me, exactly. She's testing me, and that was.... a test."

"Dangerous test."

"If you're trying to ask me why she's testing me, don't bother. I don't know it myself."

I think I see Kollek start to smile, but in the dark, it's hard to see. "Fair enough."

I get up, going back to my cloak, but I turn around one last time. "And Kollek? I don't mean any harm to you or Jorgen. I've never meant any harm you or Jorgen."

I lie down and curl up again. I still feel Kollek's eyes on me, but not nearly as often as before.

Annette Morris

"I don't think--" I was about to say, but Xander touched my arm, I looked at him as though he might be crazy.

"You know, you shouldn't put your hands on a nervous vampire." I tell him as my eyes turned a light red.

I sighed and took a seat where the priestess wanted us to sit. "Don't be nervous Vampire." she tells me. "Don't you dare tell me what to do!" I yell and roll my eyes, like she really had nerve to boss me around.

Xander was quite, but I am definitely not going to sit there and take what this mysterious woman says. "You have been here before, ya know?" Xander said to me. I looked at him like he was crazy, once again. "I don't know how many people are going to tell me that but no I haven't." I said.

"Of course you have." The priestess interrupted. "Most vampire and werewolves start off being here, you just happened to have wondered off." she said.

"I want to leave!" I demand.

She had both Xander and myself sent to a cell, together, in one place. "No. I cant be here for long periods of time. I will freak." I say and begin to sort of panic. I sat on a chair and grabbed my aching head, I couldn't handle much more.

"And whatever you do," whispered Dominic, "don't tell her your name."
Well that shouldn't be too hard, thought Kevin to himself. He had many aliases, mainly to avoid debt and tax, and Kevin was just his favorite. Now he thought about it, he couldn't remember what his birthname was...
Kevin was pushed through the door aggressively, and he landed on his knees. The whole world was distorted around him, like it was viewed through a kaleidoscope. Kevin suspected the magic, the whole place stunk of it, and Kevin had been known to have funny turns from overexposure, particularly from multidimensional portal magics.
He sort of zoned out for the high priestesses dramatic monologue, but just as it was coming to an end, and the guards in the shadowy corners were stepping forward to take them away, he heard one snippet.
"Well fed..."
Finally something Kevin excelled in. Eating.

~Roco~

Roco mounted a dark brown horse with a hint of red in its hair. The horse, being trained to ride elves not humans, was a little wary of him. He pranced around nervously, while Gamleor and Renalf loaded him up with provisions for the journey north. At last Gamleor whispered a few words to the horse, Acer. This seemed to settle it down, at least for the moment. This only added to Roco's suspicion of any and all elves. They were queer, in the old fashioned sense of the word, beings. In his mind they were to be as readily trusted as any common sorcerer.

"I think we are all set to go!" Renalf said cheerfully. Roco wondered why he was so cheerful. In his previous experiences with the wizard he had always been pessimistic.

"We are." Gamleor replied confidently. "I hope to reach the path leading to Gzomriflt tomorrow evening or early on the morning of the next day. That will require us to ride swiftly."

"I suggest we stop talking and get riding then," Roco interjected. "The less time I have to spend on this horse the better! I don't think he likes me all that much."

"You have nothing to fear the horse of an elf will bear his master at all costs as long as he trusts him." Gamleor said. "I have whispered a few words in ears. I think that he will bear you as well as he bore his former master. However, we have had enough talking. Let us set out on our journey! To the pass!"

The pounding of the horses hooves shook the ground as they rode away, breaking into a slow trot. They maintained their pace steadily throughout the morning. For twenty minutes an hour. The rest of the time, to Roco's pleasure and Gamleor's chagrin, was taken up by a slow, steady walk. They stopped for five minutes at the end of every hour as well.

As they rode they passed through many small forests and groves, though many pastures and meadows, up numerous hills and across muddy streams. The sun, to Roco, seemed to be pallid and cold compared to what he was used to. It stead of being cheery and warming it seemed as if it were cold and unwelcoming. He felt like it was an unfriendly eye staring at him, stabbing him in the back when he wasn't looking. It was no longer a friendly companion as it used to be.

The wind too was cold and biting. It nipped at him constantly, sending involuntary shivers up his spine. It was no longer a welcoming cool breeze to take away a little heat from the sun's burning glare. Instead it was a tenacious foe clawing at him and infiltrating every single gap in his light defenses. Roco was obliged to borrow one of the elves' spare cloaks. For once Roco was glad of aid from the tall foreboding figures.

The others in the party seemed not to mind the cold as much as Roco. They were more accustomed to it than he was. Roco wished that on of the elves Renalf knew a spell to make the weather more favorable, but neither parties did. Even if then had, such a spell would require an immense amount of power, far greater than any they had.

At last they stopped for the mid day meal within the shelter of a grove of trees. At least within it there was shelter from the wind. Roco sat huddled with his back to a large oak. The grove was surrounded by a vast moor. The ground gently rose and fell. The sky was covered with a sheet of grey clouds behind which the sun had disappeared. However from the North a black speck approached quickly. Roco stared at it until it seemed to grow into the size of a small cloud.... what could it be... ?

They had just exited the forest, but already dusk was descending upon the land. The Plains of Tommar were vast, and it would take at least two to three days before they reached its heart, where the town of Evincourt was located. Diánterrus cursed softly and announced to the dragonet that they would be making camp in the clearing they had passed five minutes ago.

After clearing away most of the leaves and other assortments covering the ground of the designated campsite, Diánterrus set to gathering wood and making a bonfire. The dragonet was enthralled by the flames.

Within ten minutes of our reaching the site, you have already made camp. You work with an impressive efficiency.

Diánterrus inclined his head, accepting the complement. He noticed that the dragonet was still gazing at the flames in wonder.

"I thought dragons - as well as dragonets - were used to fire."

We are... the dragonet answered, trailing off.

"Then why are you gazing at it the way a drunk looks at mead?"

The fire... it speaks to me...

"Probably to tell you how much it would enjoy searing your flesh and letting the fat drip from your bones," Diánterrus mused.

Woken from his reverie. the dragonet exclaimed, I have no fat! And I thought you sentient beings loved fire.

Diánterrus scoffed. "Fire is a servant - it is to be treated as such. Give it independence, and it will destroy everything you hold dear."

You speak from experience?

"I speak from caution."

You seem to do a great many things - if not everything - in caution. Why?

"It's none of your concern," Diánterrus replied bluntly.

Oh, right, caution. Well, then, do not consider it giving out information about yourself, but rather trading information. We have not even introduced ourselves, so maybe we should start there?

Diánterrus contemplated the suggestion. "It seems fair, but I have absolutely nothing to gain by introducing myself to a bloodthirsty lizard. Furthermore, I doubt you have any information I would find worth trading. In fact, I doubt you even have a name."

The dragonet flinched. It seemed genuinely hurt. I do have a name, just so you know, it said and curled into a ball, facing away from Diánterrus.

There was silence as the sun finally slipped behind the horizon and plunged the world into darkness, save for the patch of forest illuminated by the bonfire. It remained silent for some time after that still, for even the amulet was uncharacteristically quiet.

"Diánterrus Severrent Rudolphus Lurious-Solàcarnon," the Ollemcrat said, finally breaking the silence.

The dragonet looked up, confused. Come again? Was that a chant?

"No," Diánterrus said with forced patience, "my name is Diánterrus Severrent Rudolphus Lurious-Solàcarnon."

That is quite the name, the dragonet commented, but it sounds noble, so it suits you. My name is Dresdan.

Diánterrus was shocked, and for once, he forgot to mask it.

I know, the dragonet said miserably, it is a poultry name not even fit for a chicken. It - no, he - slumped and looked at the fire, a depressed expression on his face.

Diánterrus was confused. "Not at all! Dresdan is Elvish for "great" - several of the Elves' most legendary heroes wore that name. I had never expected a dragonet to have such a sophisticated name, as dragons' choice of names are ordinarily very crude and barbaric."

Dresdan seemed puzzled and could not discern whether he had jsut received a complement, or an insult, but he seemed to decide on the former and smiled cheerfully.

Thank you.

The moment became awkward, so Diánterrus decided to change the topic. "About what do you prefer to converse, Dresdan?"

It was the dragonet's turn to be shocked; no one had ever used his name before.

Umm, magic, he answered after a few seconds. He suddenly had an idea. Could you tell me what the different terms for mages mean? The travellers I sometimes encounter are not too keen on telling me...

Diánterrus chuckled. "That tends to happen when you are about to eat them. But let me see..." He turned serious. "Mage is the generic term for any practitioner of magic. When referring to the quality of a mage's spellcasting, four different terms are used: apprentice, magister, savant, and Archmage.

"Apprentice refers to any practitioner of magic who has only recently begun his or her studies and is still learning. Magister refers to any mage who has completed their training and can actively partake in magical activities. Savant refers to a mage who has shown the ability to utilise advanced magic and can do so without exhausting him or herself immediately. Finally, Archmage is a purely theoretical term which refers to someone who has mastered magic in all of its forms. Naturally, the world has never seen an Archmage, and probably never will.

"Then, there are other terms which are used to refer to a mage who practices a specific branch of magic. Magician refers to a magister who has not yet specialised in any branch of magic. Theurgist refers to a mage who practices magic which is always beneficial (it is often called “White Magic” and includes such things as healing), whereas Sorcerers (or Sorceresses) are mages who practice magic which is always detrimental (this is often called “Black Magic” and includes such things as necromancy). Warlocks (or Witches) are mages who specialise in magical combat, hence their preferred form of magic being called “Combat Magic”. Then there are mages who specialise in a kind of magic designed to befuddle the mind, called “Psychic Magic”; it is practiced by Enchanters (or Enchantresses). Mages can also conjure items, or even creatures, if they are powerful enough – this is called “Conjuration Magic” and is, of course, practiced by Conjurors. There are other types of mages as well, but they are too numerous and obscure to name now.”

After his lengthy explanation, Diánterrus rummaged through his satchel and produced a flask. He took a few sips from it before continuing.

“Oh, and I almost forgot; there are Wizards as well. They are male mages (call it sexist if you want) who belong to a very secretive order. Each has a different colour as an epithet, and this colour represents their speciality, e.g. Parthos the White is renowned for his healing abilities.”

Diánterrus glanced at Dresdan and was about to speak, but he stopped abruptly.

“I guess I shall take first watch.”

The dragonet was fast asleep.

~Renalf~

Renalf spotted the cloud as it approached at breakneck speed. Gamleor seemed oblivious until Roco pointed to it and started mumbling to himself under his breath.

"Kremquill!" Gamleor shouted. "We have to get under cover quickly or else they will see us and eat us. They don't appear to be dangerous, but when they travel in such large numbers they are as deadly as a company of elves armed to the very last man. They thrive on human flesh alone. They are really human changelings, but when they migrate or want to get somewhere quickly they will change their form into that of little birds. They work well as a team and they mainly prey on small children and old men and women during the night. Something powerful has to be on the loose for them to be flying south at this time the season! Normally they live in caves in the mountains to the north, but now they are abroad. I can assure you that they don't have good intentions!"

"And what do we do if they somehow manage to spot us?" Renalf asked, fingering his beard worriedly, the wrinkles on his face becoming even more pronounced than before.

"If they spot us all we can do is wait until they are upon us and then try to blast some of them to bits. That may very well be just enough to scare them off, though I wouldn't bank on it!"

"Don't worry! I won't! I never banked on surviving this quest anyways! A wizard has his time come to him eventually, no matter what, when, or how. I am quite surprised that mine hasn't come already. After all I do encounter villains at almost literally every turn nowadays. They don't come in the form of armies, albeit, but nonetheless they are quite deadly!"

"Well if you really want to survive this than you better hurry up and get under cover."

In a single fluid motion Gamleor catapulted himself into the bushes directly in front of him. Roco sat as if he were paralyzed until Renalf gripped him at a point on his are and sent him tumbling into some muddy ground that blended in well with his apparel and skin. Without any further delay Renalf hid himself within a bush that hung over him, shielding him from the sky, without actually pressing against him.

Less than five minutes later the birds passed high above them while they laid prone like hunted field mice in a hole. The sound of the noise blotted out all other sounds like a loud fan does when you turn it on at night to help you sleep. The flapping of wings droned by above them while Rocon muttered incoherently and Renalf and Gamleor tensed preparing themselves to use magic should the need arise. Fortunately, at least for them, it didn't.

"That was a close call!" Roco said when the birds had passed and were about the shape of a cloud again. He seemed to have at least partially regained his consciousness. He was no longer stricken like an animal that cannot bark.

"We might not be over it yet!" Gamleor snorted. "They may have seen us and decided to leave use be for the moment. There also may be another party to follow after them! However, it isn't very likely. That party could be establishing a colony somewhere to the south. I know that it can't be all of them, unless that is an expedition was launched against their main force and they suffered badly. Still, I think that the majority of them are still in the north."

"You mean to tell me that there may be more of them on their way that might attack us?"

"It is always a possibility. I am not saying that it is likely, because I think that it probably isn't, but now I think we should take turns guarding the camp each night. With will have shifts of two and a half hours. That should suffice Renalf and I. You will get used to it eventually as well. For now I suggest that we eat our lunch quickly and put as much space in between here and those rascals as we can! I hop to travel another four leagues at the least."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Renalf cautioned them. "We will expect to get some sleet. If not today, it will definitely come tomorrow. I can sense it in my old veins. That is what happens when you get old, Roco. It is rather upleaslent to be completely honest with you. So be ready!"

Roco, however, seemed to be in a trance like state. A second later he collapsed to the ground.

Renalf looked at him with a look of worry crossing his face. "What has happened to him Gamleor? What is going on? Can we help him?"

Gamleor looked at Roco gravely and then knelt down beside him.

Dominic

"We need to find a way to escape."
Dominic, Sarris and Kevin were sitting around a small circular table, eating venison pie and cheese. A single candle stood in the centre of the room, casting a dim light on their faces.
"I know that, but I just don't see how," Dominic said, staring at the small flame og the candle.
"Why don't you just use your magic to get us out?" Kevin asked as he swallowed another piece of pie.
"I must agree with our friend Kevin," Sarris said, "Your magical abbilities have always benefitted us in the past."
Dominic looked both of them in the eye before replying. "I can't," he said briskly.
"You what?!" bothe Sarris and Kevin exclaimed.
"Quiet, you two!" Dominic whispered, "the guards outside the door are most likely eavesdropping our conversation. Wait a moment."
Dominic stood up and walked to the door. He checked the bolt before muttering the spell, Fanio mar quetris©, then came and sat again.
"Okay, I've cloaked the room," he said, "Now we cantalk in peace."
"Firstly," Kevin began, "Why can't you use your magic to get us out of here exactly? You just used magic to cloak the room."
"What you don't understand about magic, my dear Kevin," Dominic took a large gulp of wine, "Is that it tires the body, soul and mind. A spell of a large enough magnitude to get us out of here might send me into a coma. Or worse."
"But you never seemed hampered by this, exhaustion, before?" Sarris said.
"That is because I had the Star's Blessing."
"The what blessing?" Kevin asked, confused.
"Have you ever heard of the Items of the Gods?" Dominic started.
"Continue," Sarris seemed extremely interested now.
"Well, some items, like Deela's Bow or Roltir's Cloak are well known, but then there are others that are kept secret. One of these is Istar's Star."
"But surely you can't hide a star?" Kevin said.
"No, its not a real star, but a jewel. A sapphire to be precise."
"Wait, but didn't you wear a sapphire necklace when we met?" Sarris said.
"Yes, but that is no ordinary necklace," Dominic said, taking out the necklace, "It's the Star of Istar. I am its Guardian."
After staring at it for several minutes, Kevin was the first to speak. "I still don't get what this has to do with anything."
"Ugh, do I have to spell it out for you?" Dominic sughed, "The Star invokes various 'blessings on its Guardian, one of which is to eliminate the exhaustion and provide a permanent flow if magic."
"And you don't have this blessing anymore?" Kevin asked again.
"Technically no, but its complicated. When we entered this City, which is the main centre if Deela, another goddess' realm, the Star lost the connection with its creator. But I still have the blessing, just not now."
"So we're doomed," Sarris sounded like his Fate was already sealed.
"No, my feline companion," Dominic stood up, "we are not. Eventhough I can't use my magic, we're still smarter than three quarters of the City anyway. I have my archery skills, and with Anette and the werewolf by our side, as well as your guile and charisma, we wWILL escape."
"But where's Anette and the wereolf?" Sarris asked.
"I don't know," Dominic said, gesturing to a window, "but let's go find them."

The window was small, and barred, but the bars were surrounded mainly by crumbling brick, and lifting them out wasn't difficult, although doing so whilst watching the door was. The window lead onto a small back lane, with someone (or something) walking down it only infrequently. Across the way was a drainpipe, fixed onto the wall.
Dominic turned to Kevin. "You go first. If the drainpipe holds you it will hold the rest of us."
Kevin pretended to be deeply offended by this comment, but the wizard had a point. Anyway, arguing with a wizard, super powerful or not, was not a good idea.
With the help of Dominic and Sarris, he scrambled onto the windowsill. From there he leaned across and grabbed hold of the drain, and then swung his legs and lower body across, so he was now dangling entirely from the pipe.
Crunch.
"Oh shit."
Like a rat faced by a mouse, Kevin scurried up the drainpipe, and flung himself onto the roof ledge, as the drainpipe crumbled beneath him.
"Fat oaf," said Dominic, "what did you do that for? You were supposed to go down the pipe!"
"I get confused between my up and my down. And don't shout. I've got a headache."
"I suppose," started Sarris, "that the logical thing would be to continue over the rooftops, if we can get everyone to where Kevin is."

Annette Morris

I was stuck inside a barred area with a werewolf, great. "Where on earth do that get the logical idea to put us in a barred space together?" I asked Xander. He shrugged, "Maybe they realize we are sensible enemies." he responded.

"Sensible, true, but only because I don't like werewolf blood." I retort. He rolled his eyes and I sensed irritation. "I don't know why you hate werewolves so much, we aren't that bad of animals." he said sort of annoyed.

"I only have one reason, you stink. Also, your blood isn't that great to taste." I say.

We sit quietly in our cell and just look at our walls. The guards stood constantly in front of our cells so we couldn't exactly plan an escape. I sighed and just had time to gather my thoughts.

Not even thirty minutes later, I felt as drained as ever, if I didn't get blood soon, I thought I might eat the guards just for the hell of it.

"I need food." I tell the guards. They laughed in my face and spit on our cell floor, that immediately made me angry.

"Listen here, you get me some blood or I will eat you two alive!" I say as my eyes began to glow red. They were scared and ran off. I felt my skin feel as though It was boiling.

My anger would turn into rage soon.