"She's going to be all right, Alain," Brass chattered on as he consoled the weary warrior. "Anna, that's the mystic visiting from the Citadel of Light on Schallsea island, said that Kara's condition is now stable, or something. Once Anna lays her healing hands on Kara and does some of that magic that Goldmoon taught her, Kara will be up and fighting before we know it!
"Trust me, being poisoned isn't that big of a thing!" Brass rambled on. "I was poisoned once by this really nasty draconian in Caergoth, or was it in Palanthas? I can never remember . . ."
"Enough Brass," Alain sighed as he continued to pace across the wooden floorboards of the Inn of the Last Home. His boots thundered across the planks with such force that it seemed miraculous that his boots didn't punch holes in the floor. Wearily, the rest of the companions watched him. Jilean stood by the far window and stared off into the distance sadly as the pale sunlight washed across her reddish skin. Darren sat silently on a wooden chair and fiddled idly with his mace as dark thoughts burned across his mind. Erik simply sat within the folds of his dark blue robes and sat huddled with his cat in the gathering shadows of the inn's far corner as he clenched his maimed fingers painfully.
Alain continued to pace and worry with a silent fury that bubbled over and spread to everyone else in the room. His hand strayed to his chest, where, beneath his tunic, a starjewel hung. As always, the jewel was dark and silent, yet filled with the slight hint of life, of throbbing that echoed the beating of his own heart. Anxiously he cast dark glances at the closed door that separated him from his love. Only when Trevor Goldsmith entered the empty Inn and walked right into the wall of sorrow and fury that blanketed the room did Alain look up. Caramon had sent the patrons back home and the travelers to their rooms. He had even lent the back guestroom to Kara and the healer, and that's where they had remained for over an hour. Fixing a stormy yet apologetic glance on Alain, Trevor walked over to Darren and laid a hand on the young Legionnaire's shoulder.
"How's she doing, Darren?" the grizzled commander asked softly as if he were afraid of shattering the silence that pervaded the Inn.
"Kara's being treated by a healer from the Citadel. You know, the elf woman who's visiting Solace. She says that Kara should be all right, but we should find out for certain soon." Darren whispered back as he gave up on cleaning his mace and allowed the weapon to settle in his lap.
Nodding, Trevor tiptoed across to room and slowly placed his hand on Jilean's shoulder. Her trance broken, Jilean managed a weak smile before turning back to the open window.
"I heard that you were in the battle today, Jilean. I don't want you in danger. I thought that we talked about this," Trevor whispered into her delicately curved ear.
"I'm not afraid of danger, father. I can take care of myself," Jilean whispered back irritably. Sighing, she turned away from her father's darkening face and brushed errant strands of her fiery hair from her eyes. Seeing his daughter's uncompromising back, Trevor sighed darkly and turned away.
"You're her father?" Brass interjected excitedly as he bounded across the inn towards Trevor and Jilean. "I would have never guessed! I mean, she's so . . . well . . . red! And you're so . . . not! It's just that red is such a lovely color and I've never seen someone with red skin before! How did . . . ?"
"Her mother was a Desolation plainswoman," Trevor answered gruffly. "She was a Khotai. Jilean has her mother's strength and speed. I fear that she also has her mother's spirit."
"Wow," Brass breathed as he stared admiringly at the half-khotai girl as she stretched and arched her back like a cat in the sunlight that poured through the window. "I've never been to the Desolation. I was born in Hylo. But I know lots of kenderkin that had to flee Kendermore when Malys moved in. In fact, my best friend Rose . . ."
Darren quickly turned away from the kender's irritable chatter and approached the shadowy corner that the sorcerer had retreated into. His head bowed and hidden beneath the hood of his dark blue robes, Erik did not notice his friend's approach until Darren nearly stepped on the mage's feet. Jerking his head out from under the shadowed hood of his dark robes, Erik's piercing eyes latched on to Darren's sympathetic face. His eyes narrowed in cynicism and bitterness as he looked back down and unclenched his burnt and blistered hands. His black cat raised sat languidly in his lap and raised its head to look at the Legionnaire sadly.
"Hey Erik, are you all right?" Darren asked cautiously as he examined his friend.
"How can I be?" Erik hissed softly as bitterness and anger seeped into his voice. The sorcerer clenched his burnt hands again and twisted the folds of his dark blue robes between his fingers. "I failed."
"No you didn't," Darren admonished quickly. "You did the best you could! You aren't responsible for what happened to Kara! If anyone is responsible its that dark knight sister of hers!"
"I failed when I was needed!" Erik rasped in anger as he stood up and clenched his fists once again. His black cat leapt from his lofty perch and landed daintily at the mage's feet. "I couldn't even control my spell!"
The black cat crept next to the sorcerer's leg and fixed its piercing eyes on its master. Erik snarled and returned the cat's gaze malevolently. For a split second, it seemed like the two were locked in a fierce battle of wills, but the cat eventually lost interest and lowered its gaze sulkily.
"You're being too hard on yourself, Erik," Darren pointed out. "Magic is tricky. I know I could never get it. Anyone could mess a spell up."
"I am not anyone!" Erik snarled angrily as he pulled himself away from his friend. "I am the nephew of Palin Majere, the greatest sorcerer alive! I am the great-nephew of Raistlin Majere, the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived! Magic is in my blood! I am not just any brain-dead buffoon! I have the intelligence, the strength, and the will to succeed! Yet, I fail every time! I can't even contain a simple geomancy spell!"
The sorcerer's agonized cries reached a feverish pitch and cut through the silence that had filled the Inn. Seeing at the stares around him, Erik retreated bitterly back into the shadows of the inn. Swathed in the shadows that filled the Inn's one corner, his blue robes melted into the darkness and only his eerie green eyes glared angrily.
Suddenly the door to the guestroom opened and drew the attention of all in the room. A knight in silver plate mail stepped into the room. The knight's armor was carved and covered with roses, swords, and crowns in the way that the armor of the Knights of Takhisis is covered in their macabre sigils. A large crown dominated the breastplate of the knight, designating the knight as a Knight of Solamnia, belonging to the Order of the Crown. Sternness emanated from the knight's youthful face, from his steely gray eyes to his smooth, flowing, moustaches. Nodding briefly to the gathered companions, the knight stepped aside and held the door open for the person behind him.
From within the cloistered room emerged an elven mystic with shoulder-length hair the dark brown shade of smooth vallenwood. Her eyes were slanted and glittering and her skin was milky white. Slender and shapely, the mystic wore a long sleeved, royal blue tunic that extended down into a short skirt. A platinum medallion with a triangle etched on its surface hung from the mystic's neck. Her face was lovely, yet cold, betraying no hint of emotion to those around her. Turning to Alain, the mystic nodded slightly and revealed a contemptuous look of disgust.
"Thanks for tending Kara, Anna," Trevor spoke softly as he approached the elven mystic. She nodded slightly to the Legionnaire, but no hint of emotion marred her features. Looking around, Trevor immediately gestured for the rest of the companions to gather around. Motioning towards Jilean and Darren, he said, "Anna, this is Jilean Goldsmith, my daughter. And this is Darren Turnblade, a Legionnaire under my command." Turning to the corner that Erik remained ensconced in, Trevor said, "And that is Erik Majere, a student at the Academy of Sorcery." Turning to the mystic and the Solamnic Knight, Trevor said, "Everyone, this is Anna, a mystic from the Citadel of Light . . ."
"Annaiselynth of House Cleric," Anna interrupted smoothly, "and most recently, the Citadel of Light."
"Yes, well," Trevor stammered before regaining his composure. "And this is her escort, Sir. . . ."
"Sir Devin Naerblade, Knight of the Crown, at your service," the knight stated calmly as he bowed in respect. His eyes traveled from person to person, but remained on Jilean. Intrigued, the knight's soft eyes swept her shapely body appreciatively and he bowed even further. The girl noticed the knight's deep gaze and blushed slightly, though few could tell.
"You forgot about me!" Brass interrupted quickly. Bounding across the room, Brass grabbed the elf's hand and shook it profusely. "Hi, I'm Brasswell Lightfinger, but my friends call me Brass!"
The elven mystic quickly yanked her hand away from the kender's grip and backed up. Her cold, piercing eyes raked the kender up and down. Undaunted, Brass proceeded forward.
"I'll bet you learned a lot of neat things at the Citadel!" Brass cried out excitedly. "I know Goldmoon personally, since I saved her from a band of draconians once!"
"Give it back," Devin rumbled as he strode forward and accosted the babbling kender.
"Give what back?" Brass asked innocently.
"You know," Devin growled. "You took milady's pouch!"
Anna quickly checked the slender chord that hung around her waist. Anger flamed across her face when she realized that her pouch was missing. Despite the sudden slip, the elf's calm demeanor fell back in place and her anger gave way to an icy gaze.
"Oh, you must mean this," Brass admitted as he reached into the flaps of his vest and pulled out a delicate silk pouch. Angrily, Devin snatched the pouch from the kender's hand and returned it to the mystic.
"You must have dropped it," Brass explained innocently. "You're lucky that I found it! I don't know how you can go about helping people with your mysticism if you keep dropping your belongings! You really should know better!"
Anna narrowed her eyes and viewed Brass with contempt. Trevor tapped gently on Anna's shoulder and the elf flinched. She turned her icy glare on the Legionnaire, but Trevor continued undaunted.
"Yes, well, how is she Anna?" Trevor asked the mystic bluntly. "Will Kara be all right?"
"Yes, commander," the elven mystic responded calmly. "I have healed the immediate injuries, and the half-human is no longer in danger. However . . ."
Without waiting for the mystic to finish, Alain charged through the open doorway. A small bed flanked by small table and one dresser dominated the far wall. Kara's belt, bow, and quiver of arrows lay huddled in a pile at the foot of the bed. A small mirror on his right showed him his reflection. His image seemed ashen and small, as if it were merely a ghost of its master, humbled and broken. However, Alain's gaze was immediately focused on the stirring figure beneath the mounds of checkered quilts that had been stacked upon the bed. Alain glided towards the half-elf as Anna silently closed the door behind him. Rushing to her side, Alain grasped Kara's hand and flashed her a faint smile.
"Hey, don't you know better than to get me worried like that?" Alain asked as he choked back a bitter taste that welled up in his throat.
"Sorry," Kara smiled weakly. "I guess I just wasn't paying enough attention. How's your shoulder?"
Alain rubbed his bound wounds and winced slightly at the pain that his coarse fingers caused. He had declined Anna's healing talents in favor of treating Kara's. Kara sat up worriedly, but Alain eased her back down onto the bed.
"I'll live," Alain admitted wryly, "although my pride may be wounded just a little."
"Yes, well, my sister was, is, a formidable warrior. She taught me how to fight," Kara rasped weakly as she ran her fingers through Alain's hair. "Of course, I lost contact with her years ago . . ."
"Anna says that you're going to be fine," Alain cheered feebly. Kara's hands faltered a bit as she caressed his face.
"Actually, I may not be," Kara responded seriously as shadows began to creep through her happy facade. "She couldn't cure the poison."
All color drained from Alain's face. His hand shook a bit as he held onto Kara's hand. Kara smiled encouragingly, yet desperately, as she clenched Alain's hand in her own.
"I guess I won't have to worry about staying young while you grow old and die," Kara cried softly as a small sob escaped her throat. Alain simply stared at her, as if he could see the touch of death upon her lovely face. Gently, the half-elf leaned forward and caressed the warrior's cheek with her own. Another rogue sob escaped from her throat, but it went unnoticed as sound turned in upon silence. Kara draped her arms around Alain's neck and pulled his shaking body closer. The weary warrior closed his eyes, and, just for a moment, only his love existed. All he knew and cared about was in his arms. Her hair cascaded down his neck and chest and filled his nose with its sweet scent. The heat from her body warmed his own and slowly seeped across the surface of his tingling skin. Her heart fluttered like a dove's wings and beat in sync with his own. His heart cried out to hers, and between them, the fragile starjewel fluttered to brief life and throbbed between them.
"There's got to be a cure," Alain swore weakly. "There's got to be."
"Anna says that I'll be okay for a few days, but then it'll strike," Kara sighed as she nestled in the small valley under his chin. "It is supposed to be very painful . . ."
"No!" Alain cried out as broke free of Kara's embrace and spun away from the bed. "No, there's got to be a cure!"
Alain slammed his hand down on the table next to Kara's bed with such force that its legs crumpled into a collection of wood chips. Alain grasped his throbbing hand and gasped in pain as the door opened swiftly. Devin Naerblade swiftly entered and scanned the room for danger, but the knight halted upon seeing Alain and Kara stare stonily in his direction. Anna quietly entered the room behind the Solamnic knight, followed by the rest of the company. The sorcerer's black cat darted between the company's legs and hopped onto the bed with Kara. The half-elf greeted the cat with open arms and began absently stroking the feline as the entourage entered silently.
"There is no cure that I am familiar with," Anna stated bluntly. "Unless one can be found, the half-human will die within days."
"I believe that I may be able to formulate an anti-toxin if I am able to analyze the poison," Erik interrupted. All eyes turned to the sorcerer. "Of course, I will need my materials at the Academy . . ."
"Then we're going to the Academy," Alain interrupted. "Erik, we'll leave immediately."
"Wait, I think that I should go too," Darren spoke up. Seeing his commanding officer begin to object, Darren quickly turned on his self-proclaimed charm. "Commander, don't you think that the Legion of Steel owes Kara and Alain enough to spare one Legionnaire?"
"Well . . ." Trevor began as he began to ponder the situation.
"And don't you think that her life is worth any price?"
"Yes, but . . ."
"Well, then it's settled," Darren proclaimed cheerfully. "You can't, in good conscience, allow Alain and Erik to saunter off into the woods with Knights of Takhisis about, now can you! No, you're too smart for that, so of course you'll let me go!"
"And me too," Jilean interrupted as she stepped closer to Darren.
"Absolutely not!" Trevor thundered. "You're staying here! Darren, you can go!"
"But . . ." Jilean began.
"No buts!" Trevor cut her off. "You will do what I say, young lady! You have no place traipsing through the woods while Knights of Takhisis are about! You're staying in Solace!"
Jilean prepared to argue but one stern look from her father ended the argument. Seething with rage, Jilean stalked out of the room angrily. She struck the door with her fist on the way out, leaving a small dent in the oak frame.
Darren prepared to say something, but another glare from the grizzled Legionnaire silenced him.
"I'll go too!" Brass interjected as the room began to settle into uncomfortable silence. "I have maps . . ."
"Of course, you will also accompany us, won't you?" Erik interrupted as he turned to the elven mystic. The elf flinched slightly at being addressed by a human, but her haughty facade hung on.
"I should be returning to the Citadel. My work here is done. There is no more that I can do for the half-elf," Anna responded smoothly.
"Perhaps, but your aid will be a great asset to me once I begin to fashion the anti-toxin," Erik amended even more smoothly. "So, of course you will accompany us. You would never allow another life, even one of 'mixed' origins, to be endangered, now would you?"
Devin stepped forward angrily, but Anna held him back with a wave of her hand.
"I will accompany you, sorcerer," she stated coldly. "And so will my escort, won't you, Sir Devin?"
The Solamnic knight bowed curtly and stepped back behind the mystic.
"I'm also coming," Kara proclaimed as she tossed the quilts aside and stood up from the bed. "I'm not letting anyone fight my battles for me!"
Alain started to object, but Kara's fiery gaze melted the words from his mouth.
"The half-elf should be perfectly fine for a few days," Anna stepped in calmly. "However, she will begin to experience discomfort towards the end of those days, when the poison finally runs its course."
"There, you see," Kara gestured as she began to retrieve her weapons. "I'm in perfect health."
"But that's not what the elf said . . ." Alain started weakly.
"Oh, of course Kara can go," Brass interrupted again. "I can go too! I have maps . . ."
"No way," Darren cried out in protest. "There is no way that we're going to jeopardize this little outing by bringing along a kender!"
"He's coming," Kara retorted in defiance. "If it wasn't for Brasswell, I never would have gotten to you in time."
"And you never would've gotten poisoned," Darren muttered under his breath. "Fine, when are we leaving then?"
"Give me an hour to prepare my things," Erik spoke softly. "I will meet you all at the foot of the Inn."
With a dramatic flourish, the sorcerer whipped his dark blue robes around him and left the room.
"I, too, have my belongings to prepare," Anna admitted. "Come Sir Naerblade."
"And I'd better talk to Jilean," Darren realized as he started towards the door with the mystic and the knight. However, Kara placed her hand on the Legionnaire's shoulder.
"Let me," she urged. Darren nodded slightly and left the room. Alain gazed at the half-elf worriedly, but she simply smiled at the warrior.
"Well, go on and talk to her Kara," Trevor supported. "Maybe you can talk some sense into her!"
* * *
Angrily, Jilean nearly shattered the door as she slammed it open with one blow. She burst into the spacious workout room with dark and stormy thoughts bubbling over in her mind.
Her gaze swung around the room as she tried to stabilize her roaring mind. Several large targets hung against the far wall. A gymnasium constructed of long metal pipes and wooden boards took up most of the eastern half of the room. Several padded dummies stood propped up like scarecrows around the workout place. Jilean ignored these and crossed the spacious white workout mat that divided the room in half. She strode past the rack of wooden staves and practice weapons and crossed under the glass skylight. Brilliant sunlight filtered down onto the half-khotai, but she ignored the sunshine and stalked angrily onwards. Finally, she saw something that might survive her rage. Placed several feet from the northwestern wall, a heavy slab of padded wood, re-enforced by wooden posts that dug deep into the vallenwood tree that supported the workout room, looked sturdy enough.
Jilean pulled her arm back and rammed her fist into the padded surface of the board. The padding compressed under her powerful blow and cracked the thick wooden backing of the board. Whipping forward with her other fist, Jilean landed a blow that sent a slight tremor throughout the room. Her pounding caused the padded board's creaking protests to boom and resound off of the walls.
Her anger coursed through her system like violent drug that swept away all restraint. Her mind clouded over with a red haze that throbbed violently in her mind. A swift sidekick cracked the wood slightly and tore the leather padding. A sharp elbow cracked the wooden backing further, causing slivers of wood to spray off and litter the ground behind the punching board. Roaring in anger, Jilean pounded the board until the wooden support posts began to creak and crack. Driven by her anger, Jilean continued to pulverize the board until the leather cracked and peeled, the wooden backing shattered, and the support posts splintered and began to fragment. Pulling back her fist, Jilean prepared for one final blow when a slender arm gripped her wrist firmly.
"Am I interrupting anything?" a golden voice asked quizzically as she held onto Jilean's arm. Jilean turned angrily to throttle the irritant but found her mentor instead. Kara stood awash in the rays of the sun as the sunlight cascaded down her golden hair and accentuated her sensuous curves inside and outside of her leather armor. Her bare hips led to her slender legs, which bore the striped tattoos that Jilean had always found distracting. The fur-lined bracelets that looped around the half-elf's left leg, right arm, and left wrist flashed and glinted in the sunlight.
Even though she could have easily torn her arm fee from the half-elf's grip, Jilean's anger quickly evaporated and left her feeling drained. She flushed until her faintly reddish cheeks blossomed into a deep crimson. Lowering her eyes, Jilean cursed herself inwardly for having lost control of her anger once again. The last time she had lost control, several woodcutters who had been a little too friendly with her had ended up bed-ridden for a month.
"I-I'm sorry, K-Kara," Jilean gasped as she dropped her arm and backed away peevishly. "I-I don't know what came over me . . ."
"That's all right Jilean," Kara said as she flashed the girl a smile. "I can get a new one."
Kara stepped back and examined her pupil's handiwork. The practice board was now leaning crookedly backwards because one of the support posts had split wide open. The padding had ruptured and the wooden backing was splintered and cracked. An hour ago, Kara would have wagered hard steel that no one could damage the punching board. Now, Kara was glad that the issue had never come up.
"Nice work," Kara commented. "Your strength is your blessing, as is your speed."
Kara kicked downwards swiftly. Jilean blocked the swift blow neatly and quickly with her foot. Suddenly, Kara snapped her foot back and kicked upwards unexpectedly. Jilean stepped back slightly until the half-elf's foot hung in the air in front of her face.
"Good reflexes," Kara approved.
"Well, I was trained by the best," Jilean grinned shyly.
"Okay then, show me what you know," Kara suggested suddenly. "This should be an interesting spar."
"Right now?" Jilean asked in disbelief. "But . . . well, are you sure that you're ready? I mean, don't you need to rest or something?"
"You heard the mystic," Kara replied quickly. "I'm fine, at least for now. I might as well make the most of my time. So, let's begin."
Jilean nodded timidly and followed her mentor out onto the white workout mat that dominated the middle of the room. The two combatants bowed courteously to each other and then faced off. Kara spread her legs apart and brought one hand forward. If she suffered any pain from either her leg wound or the poison running through her system, she did not show it. Jilean stepped back and met her mentor's steady gaze.
"Let's begin," Kara commanded right before she swept her foot forward. Jilean backed up in time to avoid the feint, but Kara kicked upwards quickly as she had before. Jilean stepped beyond the kick's range and whirled around to attack with her fist. Moving quickly, Kara snatched Jilean's fist from out of the air and twisted her around. Hooking her foot backwards, the half-elf flipped Jilean over her back and onto the padded mat. Jilean wheeled as the breath was knocked out of her, but Kara simply backed away. Jilean peered up at her mentor, but the half-elf simple waited for her pupil to get up.
Breathing heavily, Jilean arched her back and twisted back onto her feet. Before Kara could react, Jilean lunged forward with her fists. Kara deflected the girl's powerful blows expertly by re-directing their force, but the strength of the barrage was enough to send the half-elf reeling backwards. Again and again Jilean's fists flew forward until Kara's strength began to fail as Jilean's massive blows crashed continually against her palms.
Kara switched tactics and dodged to the side of Jilean's attacks. Before Jilean could react, Kara hooked her arm around Jilean's and twisted her around. After spinning the girl around for one cycle, Kara shot out her foot and sent the half-khotai crashing to the mat once again.
Jilean, however, was prepared. The girl twisted on impact and swept her leg upward at Kara's midsection. Kara crouched quickly and avoided the kick. However, Jilean twisted and pivoted quickly on the mat and swept her other leg across the ground. Unable to avoid the blow, Kara's feet were knocked aside by Jilian's powerful sweep. The half-elf reacted quickly, arched her back in mid-air, and kicked her legs upward. Her palms met the mat and she landed in a handstand position like a coiled spring. Jilean continued twisting and swept her foot again, but Kara pushed off over the sweep and vaulted into a crouch several feet away.
Before her mentor could stabilize herself, Jilian launched forward and shot her hand, palm out, towards the half-elf's head. Kara managed to move her head aside and the blow soared past her pointed ear. Reaching up quickly, Kara managed to grab the girl's wrist and twisted it aside. Stepping back to keep her pupil off balance, the half-elf twisted Jilean around quickly with a single flick of her wrist. Kara shot her foot out to throw her opponent once more, but Jilian suddenly threw her weight forward. The half-khotai pulled Kara forward like a rag doll, twisted her around, and slammed the half-elf onto the mat.
Kara cried out slightly as she felt her ribs bruise under the girl's rough hold. She gasped as the air was knocked out of her lungs and for a moment, she could not breathe. Jilian grabbed Kara's leg with her free hand, but Kara had already recovered. With one deft move, the half-elf brought her knee up and into Jilian's stomach and broke her hold. As the girl cried out in shock, Kara flipped Jilian over her head and onto her back with a swift kick.
Jilian landed with a crash and lay there, panting heavily, as her sweat soaked the mat. Kara lay opposite of her, with her golden tresses mixing with Jilian's reddish mane, gasping for air.
"Had . . . enough?" Jilian panted as she fought a losing battle to get up.
"Funny," Kara commented wryly as she gulped down sweet air.
Jilian pulled her aching body up and lent a hand to her mentor. Sighing, Kara brushed herself off and unwrinkled her tunic.
"You are an excellent fighter, Jilian," Kara applauded as her heart slowed and breath began to re-ernter her lungs. "Even if I could never teach you how to fire an arrow or swing a sword right, you're still my best student."
"Yeah, but I'll never be half the fighter you are," Jilian sighed pessimistically as her chest heaved from the exertion. "I was slow in reacting and I didn't see a lot of your moves. I can't do half the things you do. The only reason you didn't cream me is because of my . . . well, 'special talents.'"
"Hey, you may not be as skilled as I am, but you're ready," Kara replied fiercely.
"Ready for what?" Jilian asked tentatively.
"For whatever you need to be ready for," Kara explained as she patted Jilian's shoulder. "You have the power to do anything you want to do, Jilian. I believe in you."
Jilian nodded slightly.
"Okay then," Kara smiled. "I'm going to meet up with everyone at the base of the Inn. Tell anyone else that's coming to be there too."
"I understand," Jilian nodded seriously. "I have to go speak to my father now. I'll see you there."
Kara smiled approvingly at her pupil.
"You do what you have to do."
* * *
"Milady, are you absolutely certain that this journey is absolutely necessary?" Devin asked Anna as they stood at the foot of the Inn. "My orders were to simply accompany you to Solace to meet with the High Elder of the Legion of Steel and then escort you safely back to the Citadel of Light." The Knight of Solamnia spat the phrase "Legion of Steel" as though he had tasted something vile.
The sun beat heavily upon the knight's silver armor, but he refused to take it off. Now, in the heat of the relentless sun, the armor seemed to glow a brilliant white and stab deep into the eyes of everyone around. The elven mystic, however, simply stood off to the side with her back to her escort. The elf's haughty mien enclosed her within silent, but sturdy walls.
Dead grass poked up from cracking soil and cropped up around the trunk of the vallenwood. Devin's foot tapped impatiently on the bottom step of the winding wooden steps that encircled the vallenwood's trunk and led to the famous Inn of the Last Home.
"I too wish to return to the Citadel and then to my homeland," Anna retorted stonily. "I have no wish to remain among so many humans and half-breeds. In fact, I loathe to even help that half-human, but I have no choice. My commitment to the Citadel and its teachings compel me to aid them. I believe that your 'Oath and Measure' does also."
"Yes, it does, milady," Devin returned evenly. "I suppose that I have no choice but to escort you to the Academy of Sorcery."
"What are you discussing?" Alain asked as he made his way down the Inn's stairs with Brass at his side and proceeded towards them.
"Yeah, were you talking about the Citadel of Light?" Brass asked excitedly as he bounded down the stairs. "I've never been there before, although I did go to the Academy of Sorcery once! Did I already tell you guys that story?"
"Please, Dargeth, keep your pet kender away from me," Devin stated coldly.
"Hey," Kara called down as she skipped down the steps towards the group. Her golden hair flashed in the sun while her tight green leather armor and striped tattoos caused her to blend in slightly with the dense foliage. "Did I miss anything?"
"Not really," Anna replied icily as she turned her head the other way.
"Hmmm, I can see that this trip is going to be interesting," Kara whispered sarcastically into Alain's ear as she hooked her arm through his. "Laughs and giggles all the way."
* * *
"Well Marci, all I can tell you is that I'll only be gone for a few days, maybe a week," Darren said smoothly as he stroked the raven-black hair of a serving girl. His hands moved from her silky black hair down to her heaving white blouse and beyond. His lips brushed her luscious lips and his eyes gazed into hers. "I'll be back before you know it."
"What about those rumors about you and that serving girl Beatrice at the Trough?" Marci asked the Legionnaire accusingly. "How do I know that this isn't just some excuse to see that wench!"
"Hey, you're the only girl for me," Darren replied smoothly as he flashed Marci a big smile.
"Darren, I wish you wouldn't leave," Marci complained as they walked down the hallway of the Inn. She ran her lips up the side of his face and pressed her shapely body against his. They approached the stairs down to the common room of the Inn when Marci pushed Darren against the wall of the hallway. "I want you here, with me."
"Well, I want to stay here to, but . . ." Darren began, when a loud cry erupted from below. Trevor Goldsmith's angry voice rose from below and broke out into the hallway. Darren started to turn his attention back to the girl in his arms when Jilean's voice, shrill and angry, followed her father's.
"No, father! I'm ready! You can't coddle me anymore!"
Darren immediately slipped out of Marci's embrace and started towards the stairs.
"Hey, Darren, where are you going?" Marci asked impatiently as she grabbed his arm.
"Sorry Lucy, I gotta go," Darren replied hurriedly as he dashed down the stairs. "I'll see you when I get back!"
"My name is Marci!" the girl shrieked in indignation as Darren disappeared into the room below.
Jumping down the stairs at an accelerated pace, Darren leapt from the final stair as Jilean burst out of the Inn's front door.
"You can't keep me here," Jilean stated coldly as she stuck her head back into the room. "I'm going whether you like it or not!"
"Jilean," Trevor pleaded as his daughter stepped back out, but she paid him no heed. Darren started after her, but Trevor blocked the Legionnaire's way. "Darren, we need to talk."
"Uh, sure," Darren gulped as he stepped back a pace from his commander.
"Since I can't force my willful daughter to stay in Solace, you'll have to look after her," Trevor commanded. "I'm counting on you, Darren. Keep her out of harm's way."
"Uh, okay," Darren stammered. "Sure thing."
"I always treated you like a son, Darren," Trevor explained seriously. "When I found you, you were living in the streets of Flotsam. I took you in, gave you a home. I even petitioned you for the Legion of Steel. Now I'm asking you to look after Jilean, do you understand?"
"Yes," Darren nodded in solemn understanding, "I understand."
"Good," Trevor growled gruffly. "Don't let me down."
* * *
From within the depths of the shadows between the boughs of the vallenwood trees, the sorcerer watched them all. He saw the poisoned half-elf, for whom the adventurers below him were all risking their very lives for. Beside her stood her lover, the human who possessed the magical blade. The sorcerer clenched his fists and rustled his jet-black robes. The sword was vital to the Order's plans and needed to be obtained.
The appearance of the dark knights was extremely fortuitous, as it lured the warrior and his blade out into the open. The dark sorcerer smiled grimly beneath his ebony hood. He regarded the group carefully, weighing the various options that were available to him. The elven mystic and the kender were no threats to him. The Knight of Solamnia might prove troublesome. The sorcerer's eyes narrowed further as two more figures bounded down the Inn of the Last Home's steps and joined the group.
The Legionnaire was another warrior that would make it more difficult to obtain the sword. The girl, well, she was a special case. Her magically enhanced strength and speed, which the Order had been attempting to duplicate for several years, made her a wild card. All seven of them stood and waited under the raging sun for the sorcerer, the nephew of Palin Majere.
The black-robed sorcerer felt a pang of regret. He knew that he might have to kill these adventurers to obtain the blade, but he hoped that it would not come to that. After all, the Order did not shed blood needlessly. Still, the black robe knew that he might have to slay those who stood in his way. Nothing mattered except the mission. As always, the pursuit of knowledge and magic came first.
Ith Milliv en ith Aryl Enver Asp. The Mission and the Art Above All.
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