He was weak from battle and loosing some blood but he pushed on. The abbey was in his sight at least there was a bit of hope that he would reach it before collapsing from exhaustion and the loss of blood. He tried as hard as he could to reach the abbey but he couldn't. In mid air he lost consciousness and plumeted to the groud. The impact was great, trees were shattered and the ground shook. He opened his eyes only to see a lonely rider going of into the forest, then he lost consciousness again.....

After a while his memory was coming back ... He wasn't sitting in their pont at home, this looked like a hot water spring in the middle of nowhere. But from the little clouds coming out of his mouth, he could tell it was still freezing. He went a bit deeper in the hot water spring, not sure why he was here, but knowing he needed to keep himself warm. The last thing he could remember was following the man who took Feraila ... He had finally caught up with them, and he wasn't planning on letting them get away. They were coming out of town when he was just a few paces from the gate. They didn't look at him though, and they were speeding like there was a horde of wolves right behind them. How foolish of him to try and catch up with the horses, especially after all he went through. Then there were only memories of coldness and something about a dream ...
But how did he get here? From what he remembered he didn't lost conscience in this pool ... so someone must have carried him here, someone friendly ...
Elendirill started to look around, searching for the one who probably saved him from an icy grave. But all he saw was frozen desert and an improvised dry-rack, with his clothes. The only reason they weren't frozen stiff was because they were hanging over the hot water pool, an ingenious thought of the inventor ... Still warming op Elendirill started to look for footsteps from where he was lying in the pool. There were some signs of a small campfire, but it had been put out a long time ago, because frost was starting to crumble the remains ...

Apparently Elmo has sfound his snack back, this time Apolassa didn't try to shake it off, she turned hear head and examined the creature. Don't worry, I'll get him off your leg. But Dulartus couldn't succeed, he even tried tickling Elmo...

Shana you stay here, allright? I'll go see if I find somthing usefull. Dulartus headed back to the main hall, where he saw that no-one was there any more, " HELLO !" the only response he got was from himself, as his voice echoed remarkably well. Dulartus started searching for the others and did nothing else than getting lost, after all these years wandering around he isn't used to this anymore.

As he got himself locked up in a room he opened a window, looked down and jumped down, landing kneedeep in the snow. After walking almost around the whole abbey he found the entrance again and started knocking on the doors, as nobody reacted he banged on the door using his elbows, knees and even head...

On this midday, however, something very unusual happened. He distinctly heard clodding footsteps in the hallway, accompanied with -- could he believe his ears? - mumbling! Impossible! No monk of the Abbey would dare mumble. Even coughing was forbidden. He'd even seen a fellow monk rebuked (non-verbally, of course) for sighing too loudly. And, only monks are permitted here in the upper floors of the Abbey! So, the mumbling clodder must be an intruder, he deduced.

All that thinking was painful. Illillitl's head was finely tuned to the tasks of his office: Vintner of the Abbey. His head was also chronically suffering from the effects of ingesting too much alcohol, since the Abbey's wines were exceptionally strong. (Sacramental wine is never spat out!)

The clodding and mumbling reverberating in Illillitl's head stopped sudddenly, then he heard the window at the end of the hallway creak open and felt the icy winds whip through the narrow hallway. Beyond all belief, he heard the distinct sounds of feet shuffling onto the window sill followed by a loud "THUMP!!" in the snow three stories below.

The clodding, mumbling, and shuffling had stopped. The icy wind continued. Illillitl felt a little ill and a little chill and almost thought a discouraging thought. "I shall almost have to do penance" he quietly thought as he shivered, "for having almost thought a discouraging thought, I think."

Without paying heed to the offered fresh tea Mari stood fascinated before the cupboard full of parchments and the desk with an ink pot and a freshly sharpened quill in the nearby sitting room.
"Wow, simply wonderful - and very good organized," she thought. She took a look around: cosy room, a crackling fire in the fireplace, rugs on the floor, the cupboard and a few shelves full of books - hopefully not too religious ones. There were a few comfortable armchairs and chairs, but the desk was fine for her next task: drawing the map - in peace and quiet, no one to distract her, goody.
Mari fumbled in her bag for the map she had purchased from a cartographer, laid it carefully on the desk and studied it. Bad work, lots of parts were crudely drawn or just missing, but this had to do. She sighed, being quite good and fast at writing, because she never knew when her Archmage would return and eventually catch her jotting down forbidden spells for apprentices, she had never been very skillful at drawing maps.
She gnawed a bit on the quill's end and memorized the cave, the source of all evil.
"Hm, now where was it exactly? Stupid map - ok, there must have been our camp, this gets a cross," she decided and drew a large somewhat awkward cross in the middle of the map showing the forest. "There, and I'll put the word in. Hmm, I flew north - I think, no it was a bit Northeast. Bah, it was Nortwest, Mari, remember: East is your right thumb, stupid girl, you need the left thumb... Ah, yes, over this chasm a bit into the desert. Now, look what that guy did, he had forgotten to draw all those mountain peaks in the desert, Sheesh."
Using her tongue tip to aid her in putting little triangles in the middle of the vast empty part, she finally succeeded in splotting a relatively large ink smear.
"Ouch, where's the sand?" She looked around feverishly, found it and poured it carefully over the puddle. "Done, phew," she sighed. Gaining courage she added the abbey (a rectangle), a strange castle SW of the cave (a small square) and a jotted line leading from the campfire to the abbey, the city, over the bridge to the castle and then to the cave.
Cocking her head, she admired her art and controlled everything again: Yes, there was the large city Vordasto, somewhere north of it the bridge and hopefully a road to that strange castle.
Everything was labeled neatly, sand gave it the finishing touch and after some time she was able to roll the map up properly again, covering it with an oily piece of leather to keep out the damp. The badly treated quill was placed into the ink pot. Sand lay on the floor and covered the desk, too.
"Good, and now?" She looked around, "I've got to find someone to bring it to Elendirill. He must decide what to do..."
She heard a strange kind of banging, muffled and pretty desperate or impatient. Following the noise she finally stood before a door, unbolted it and peeped out.
Bang!
"Hey, can't you take care where you butt your head in to?" Mari nursed her forehead and glared at Dulartus, who had given the door a last desperate thump with his head meeting hers. "Well, I see you're using something for this you don't need very often - but do you realise you could harm others? Butting your head like a boar?... Remember to warn me next time when you take up a career as a rammer..."

“Eandrae, I’m going out! Drakonis is out there and I don’t know how badly hurt he is now; he fell.” DQueene grabbed the poultice and the first cloak she saw by the door and rushed out into the howling wind. She didn’t even notice that it was at least two hand breadths too short and that it was wide enough to wrap around her twice. It was warm and that’s all that mattered.

As she ran toward the trees where Drakonis was laying she saw the other girl, Shana, heading north. “Hmmm, I wonder where she’s off to in such a hurry.” she mused. “Eandrae, can you hear me?” She sent the thought winging to her friend in the Abbey. “The girl, Shana, is leaving and heading north. She seems very determined to go somewhere. Do you know where?”

DQueene spied Drakonis on the ground lying on a bunch of broken branches. His landing had obviously been unplanned; he was surrounded by halfway broken and some fully broken trees. She quickly ran over to him and placed her hand on his forehead. “Drakonis… be calm. “ She quickly sent her thoughts winging through his body searching for any internal injuries. Other than bruises and damage to his wing, there was only tremendous exhaustion from traveling so far and having to fight so many soldiers.

DQueene concentrated on sending tendrils of healing warmth coursing through his body. She had always seen it as a rich green, its color hinting of new growth and rebirth. First she soothed his bruises and finally made her way to his wing. The arrow had gone straight through the thin dactyl membrane that stretched between his first and second wing phalanges. Clean, with no taint of poison, it should heal nicely. She pushed the green tendrils into the open wound envisioning weaving the thin membrane back together with a light but precise touch. “There,” she thought, placing the poultice on his wing. “That should take care of everything. Now all he needs to do is sleep.”

DQueene looked around and started to work to camouflage where he slept. Pulling tree branches and sundry bushes around him she created as natural a covey as she could for him to rest in. It would protect him from anyone on the ground; however, she wasn’t sure of its protection from above.

She rested her hand on his head again and pushing her thoughts down into his subconscious: “Drakonis, my young brave one, you did well. Rest, but be wary of danger. I must continue with the others against the evil. Be safe.”

She ran back to the Abbey …

aye! your head is harder than this door, an hurting myself only keeps me from beeing frustrated. pheh this place is lake a maze, som many chambers.... Now how to find the kitchen?. Elmo seems hungry, and I geuss he only eats things when they are still alive. Maybe i can snatch a pet or something...

Before she could stop herself, DQueene burst out laughing. The image of Mari scolding the towering, teetering Dulartus was comic enough. But what really made DQueene lose her composure was seeing that Mari had black ink smudged all over her mouth, and black fingerprints all over her face and parts of her clothing, too.

"What are the odds", he quietly thought to himself, "of that happening?"

From the direction of the Abbey's front door he heard loud thumping, followed by the sounds of the door opening, followed by the sounds of a scoulding female, a complaining male, and a laughing dragon. It sounded exactly like a parody of one of the Abbey's parables about a complaining dragon, a scoulding monk, and a laughing woman.

"I must be delerious," he quietly thought to himself, then deduced, "I guess that means that the third row of wine kegs have finally reached their peak bouquet. What a wonderful blessing on this first day of Holy Martyrs' week!

Loud laughter - Mari turned her head, swallowed the next verbal bombardement pointed at Dulartus and saw the Dragon-Elf-Woman holding her sides and laughing. "Had she gone mad?" Mari thought, stopped rubbing her bruised forehead and lowered her hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of her inky fingers. "Aw, noo... what a mess, yuck!"
A hasty inspection revealed she had probably taken an ink bath with her clothes, too. At first she desperately spit on a clean part of her cloak and tried to rub her fingers and face clean, but watching the Elf woman's reaction - without great success.
Mari snorted, swirled around, head held high to prevent her losing last dignity that may be left and strode away from both, back into the abbey. After a few steps she felt a giggle bubble up, she grinned and then had to laugh heartily at the sight of her hands, cloak and picturing the sight her face might show.
Calling back to Dulartus, who still stood at the door:
"Come on in, no need to carry the snow in here - I'll show you where the kitchen is - and afterwards you're going to help me to wash that dirty little dragon. I want to have a look at his wounded paw. NO, don't you dare to argue with me... Now, come on in, the abbey won't eat you..."

“What in the …?” She looked down in horror at the huge clump of tangled matted hair that had stuck to her glove. She shook her hand frantically to shake the clump off and reached up to tentatively touch her scalp again, only to come away with another hand full of hair.

Jumping off the mule as fast as she could, she grabbed her water flask and poured her remaining water over her head only to see even more ‘clumps’ of hair fall to the ground. Her head felt better, no longer burning as badly, but what in the world must it look like?

She felt of her scalp tentatively and closed her eyes. She didn’t have any hair left, at all. She felt little tears creep down her cheeks through the grime on face, not sure whether she mourned the loss of her hair or she was just so very tired.

“I don’t care!” She kicked a big stone on the ground. “Owww!” She grabbed her toes and started rubbing them while hopping around. “Well, it doesn’t matter… I don’t matter,” she muttered grimly. “Only the lady: She matters.”

She grabbed some snow and shoveled it into her water flask so that it would melt for drinking later and took the time to answer Mother Nature’s call before she remounted to continue her ride north. She pulled some trail food out of her pack to eat and started humming to herself the lullaby she remembered from so long ago.

Hush my darling sleep tonight
For Love and Caring is thy right
Sleep, sweet baby until Morning’s Light
In my arms so sweet and tight
…

Kegger had just finished preparing three chickens for the oven, when Mari marched into the kitchen with her 'stout friend' in tow. Mari had introduced him as "Dulartus" at the Abbey's door, but he reminded her very much of her dear, departed husband, "Cotton." Perhaps it was a family resemblance?

"There's soap and towels in the bathing room, dear." Kegger pulled the corner of her apron up and moistened it with her tongue. But when she reached it up to wipe some ink away from Mari's eyelid, Mari flinched and Kegger could see a hint of tears welling up in Mari's eyes. Quickly disarming the situation, Kegger turned to Dulartus and said, "You look like you've been rolling in the snow, young man. You'll do with a cup of tea. And, kindly remove your boots before you track mud all over my kitchen."

The chickens received a final sprinkle of herbs and salt before strong, work-worn hands lovingly placed them in the oven to bake.

Mari thankfully fled into the bathing room - the loving and matter-of-fact way to try her helping out of her ink-misery made her miss her mother, a sharp pain, a pain she wasn't prepared for. After all, she was just 18 years old, or maybe 19?
"Come on, look for a sponge, some sand, soap and a pumice stone, Mari," she called herself into order back again. Looking around, she found everything and then started scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing. After a while she couldn't tell if her hands were still blue or red, same went for her tingling face as she tried to catch her reflection in the water bucket.
"This is enough... There's more to it than a pretty sight," she decided, got into her old clothes again and sneaked her way through the kitchen back to her dormitory, where her backpack was. She searched for clean clothes: The first thing she found was an old white linen shirt.
"No, this is for Shana, he should be back from attending the horses pretty soon - hope, I can get him into water, that lotion kills everything, even hair," she muttered to herself with a slight smile. Putting the shirt and leather breeches on the bed (for Shana), she finally found some new outfit, undressed and went back to the sitting room to burn her old clothes. Watching the flames eat away her old skin she felt drowsy, comfortable and safe. Then hunger perked her up, combing her damp hair very quickly and braiding it, she wandered off to the kitchen, following the tantalizing smell of fresh onion bread - feeling at home.

"Lend me a hand, sweetheart," Kegger welcomed Mari, "and check the chickens in the oven. They should be nicely roasted by now."

Then, turning back to Dulartus, "I'll be needing your help carrying poor Illillitl up from the cellars after dinner, dear. Then you can take one of our live chickens out to your pet in the stables." She grabbed a nearby half-empty bottle. "More Wine?"

Mari backed off.
"Sorry, Mrs. Kegger, butbutbut... the look of meat makes me sick. Couldn't he do it? I'd rather help you with the monk if you don't mind..."
"A good idea to grab the bread, Mr. Muscles-Rammer is probably not going to share with me," she thought, secretly smiling at her cleverness.
"And Dulartus, where is Shana? Did you leave him to do all the work in the stables? And where's the little lizard? Probably chewing another horseleg, hm?"
She waited for a response, arms folded, tapping her right foot. Dulartus did not seem to take attention, he was happily digging his teeth - into my bread Mari thought indignated - and munching away, too occupied with anything besides filling his stomach.
Taking a deep breath, Mari decided to ignore him and turned to Mrs. Kegger:
"Pardon me, can you tell me where the little boy is? And the dragon? And Eandrae? And could I have a piece of that delicious bread, please? And maybe a sip of wine?"

She grabbed a chair and sat down, struggling not to sit on the long platinum hair that came with her elven body. Why would women ever struggle with this mess for long, she wondered? Grabbing her hair, she swung it so that it would hang over her right shoulder and began to braid it. Even after I braid it, it will still hang almost to the floor, she thought with disgust. Perhaps I should cut it while we're here, she mused.

As Keggar brought fresh steaming rolls straight from the oven to the table, DQueene glanced at Mari with an inquisitive gleam in her eyes,
"By the way Mari, have you ever considered using that head of yours as a weapon?" She laughed, "I almost expected our brave warrior here to collapse at your feet after he smacked you with his face; and you looked like you felt nothing!"

Without waiting for a reply, DQueene furrowed her brow in confusion: "How did you know about the dragon, Drakonis? I thought he hid himself very well from all of you. Oh, and of what boy do you speak? The only one I saw leaving was that girl, Shana. Is there a boy in our group too?"

DQueene smiled sweetly at Keggar: "Your food is absolutely delicious. I have eaten nothing for at least two days, can you spare me some meat before this warrior eats everything?"

Keggar, who appeared to love having a group of people talking and laughing at her table, cheerfully started carving the chicken. Within seconds she placed a plate fit for a warrior in front of DQueene.

As Dulartus opened the stable gates he was shocked, he couldn't believe what he sah, Shana and Apolassa were gone, Elmo was laying in the middle of tha stable. " No he couldn't eatem them both, there are no bones..." Dulartus took Elmo who seemed fast asleep and headed back to the kitchen, just before he entered he remembered and took his boots off, "Shana is gone, she took Apolossa "...

Little did he know.....

Whawhawhawhat? Girl? Shana? Left with the appaloosa - oh, of all stinking demons coming from hell... I've got to go! Thanks for the bread, Dulartus..."
Mari jumped up, knocking her stool over and rushed out of the kitchen, up to the dormitory, grabbing her back pack and stuffing the bread in it, back down to the entrance and quickly out of the door, snatching a cloak first. She headed for the stables and looked at the black stallion gloomily and determined at the same time.
"Ok, boy, we've got some work to do. Remember Shana? She's in grave danger and it's all my fault. Now, no nosense with me, please let me ride on your back, ok?"
The stallion looked at her, nudging at her hair. Mari pushed the head away gently and remembered an old bard story she had listened to as a child. It was about strange people, called the Ssassanas, who had a soulbind with their horses - and if one of them died the other had to be killed, because living with a broken soul caused insanity.
"Well, why not? I'll try it, the ritual was explained very detailed," she murmured. Pressing her heart against the broad horsebreast, she focussed on her own heart and waited... A strang yellow glow shimmered in it, tiny at first, growing faster and faster and reaching out to the stallion's breast, stroking itself into the other body and finally caressing the horse heart.
The stallion reared but came down again and seemed to like what was happening. It started to nibble gently at Mari's hair and snorted - then a wild rush of several sensations engulfed the girl: Speed, wind, running, muscles moving, speed, speed, speed.
Mari felt dizzy but did not waver, slowly she sent a picture of herself, her stiffness, her fear for falling down and her admiration for this beautiful wild creature. The sensations became more gentle, calmed down and both - her picture and the horses' emotions - slowly went into rhythm, flowing to and fro until balance came and stayed. Mari withdrew herself gently and blew fondly over the horse's nostrils.
"Ok, that's done, right? We have a pact for the time being, right? Now, please, let me move you over to the fence, so I may use it and a stool to mount you. No, don't worry, you're not going to carry a saddle anymore. "
This done, Mari heaved herself up on the horseback and leaned down on the horseneck. "Come on boy, help me to stay up... let's get out of here. We must look for Shana!"
The horse snorted, shook head and mane and then started to move, gently at first, helping her to keep balance then speeding up in direction to the forest.

Kegger looked up from the sink where she was washing dishes, and smiled. "That's nice, dear. Now, shall we go find Illillitl in the wine cellar? He needs to eat and be put to bed, the poor soul, and I could use a few more bottles of wine in the kitchen."

DQueene was helping herself to a second (or was it her thrid) helping of chicken and bread. Four empty wine bottles were also lined up next to her chair.

As she led the way to the cellar stairs, Kegger called over her shoulder in no particular direction, "Eandrae! Your dinner is getting cold, dear!"

“Eandrae, wherever you are, I’m going to follow the girls. I know you can catch up whenever you want to,” She sent her a wink and smile with a picture of Eandrae walking through a misty, other-worldly landscape.

With those thoughts she sped around gathering food and supplies into a bag she found neatly folded on a counter by the washtub. “Beautiful woman, that Keggar, a place for everything and everything in its place.” She ran lightly to the hall and inspected the boots and cloaks hanging on the wall there. This time she was lucky and found both a cloak and boots in a size very near to perfect.

Dressing hurriedly and rushing out to the barn, DQueene saw that the black stallion and Mari were gone. Looking around, she saw the Appaloosa in the back of the stable, apparently hiding from the baby and its continuous need to chew. “Well, that’s good. She’s already used to me riding her so I won’t have to go through that again.

Mounting quickly, she kicked the mare in the sides and headed out after the girl. She spied her just entering the forest and tried yelling her name in hopes of catching her attention: “Mari, Oh Mari… Wait!”

He was born and raised in a small fishing village many days southeast of the Abbey. There, as a full-blooded Ssassaanas he was being trained to be a beastmaster, for he had the "gift." But his first true attempt to commune with a beast, a garden snake, had turned to disaster. Instead of merely communicating with the snake, he felt like he had become the snake. He fell to the ground unable to use his arms and legs, and unable to make a sound in his throat. His tongue became very sensitive to odors and heat, and his skin itched all over. The urge to shed his skin was almost unbearable.

When his parents found him that way curled up under a washtub, they didn't know what to do. Eventually, he was brought here to the Abbey and after years of care, prayer, meditation and wine, he had regained the ability to walk (somewhat) and be happy with his human skin. His hypersensitive tongue, however, turned out to be a great blessing.
"I have mmuch, t-t-to be thankvil, tank full, ... thankful for" he quietly thought to himself.

He watched in amazement as two Keggers and two large strangers lifted him up and carried him up two sets of stairs into the kitchen. He ate two loaves of bread and drank two cups of water before they carried him up to his room.

"I am twice as tank full, ... vankthull, ... grateful as I quietly thought I'd be" were his last quiet thoughts before he fell asleep.

"Mari... wait"
Did someone call her? Mari turned her head and saw that Dragon-Elf-woman on an appaloosa galloping up to her. "Hmpf, wait a sec, Shana was supposed to have taken that horse according to Mr. Brickhead?! Bah, I don't understand anything at all.... Woah, stop, boy, we'll better wait for her..."

Urging the mare on to greater speed, she finally caught up with her. She smiled at Mari, “Thank you for waiting for me. It is much safer if we ride together.”

She looked searchingly into Mari’s eyes: “You know that we are going into great danger? This evil I sense, I have never felt anything so bad; and I have seen many things in my life.”

DQueene took a deep breath and looked even more solemn than before: “You seem to know more than your years allow. You even know me for what I am and yet you don’t fear me.” She chuckled: “I’m not sure that is wise of you! No matter, I am your ally now if you plan to fight this evil.”

Looking back toward the Abbey, she laughed: “Eandrae, will come when she is done there and the warrior will follow soon I’m sure. Shall we ride?”

She had remembered hearing the soldiers talk about the route they had to take north, that they had to go through the town of Vordasto to cross a bridge across the great chasm. It was rumored to be the only way to get to the desert; although surely that couldn’t be true.