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The Spirit Caller - Chapter 5 Written by: Cymrick Ravenfoot FIGHT OR FLIGHT I left Halas with turmoil at my back and a miasma of unanswered questions ahead. Little did I realize that this departure would set the tone for my life. There would always be trouble at my heels and shadowy menace ahead. Those uncertain days also gave me a glimpse of the meaning behind the strange visions that came to me on death’s door. When one of the people from my fevered dreams stepped forth and unmasked himself in the light of day, I was struck with a profound revelation. As I languished in death’s clutches, my life did not flash before my eyes. It was my future that I saw. Were those visions instructions? A prophecy for me to follow? I had also seen the dead walk the Rathe, and myself bound in chains. Could these events be avoided? Or did I have to meet them in order to solve my mystery? Hammers sang and water turned to steam as the master smiths of Halas made weapons of steel. The mines and foundries were crowded with workers and the forges with assistants as the Clans stirred themselves into readiness. Like the passage of winter into spring, the city of the Clansmen had passed from slumber into a full frenzy of activity. Watching the war fever transform my homeland into something I’d never seen before, I couldn’t shake the feeling of bitter disappointment. Circumstances had robbed me of the opportunity to lend my power to my comrades. If even one clansman were to die who would not have perished had I gone to battle, how would I bear the responsibility? Mercifully, I’d never know the answer to that question. I’d only have to bear the shame of having no power to affect the future of my people. Damn Malioch! I knew that I would not see battle even if I did stay. My detractors were too powerful and my friends too few. If it were any other way, I would have gone to grips with the gnolls in a heartbeat. As important as my personal quest is to me, I would readily set it aside for a time in order to protect my people. But there was no other way. As Malioch gave me his final instructions and directions to the village of Einhorst McMannus in the plains of Karana, I made sure my face was a mask of acceptance. Let him wonder what I really feel of this. He’ll get no satisfaction from sending me away. Only my mother and a few close friends would really know what I felt about this task. After Malioch had departed to attend to other matters, I stopped to speak with my mother. "Bye" I said while double checking my travel supplies, provisions and medicine. Hugging herself, Anna peered at me with eyes much like my own, "In a talkative mood, are yeh? Well don’t be gone long, Cymrick. You’ve much to learn before I’ll let you run loose like a salivating cur." "Mother knows best" I jibed lightly, "I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I promise to return before I embark on any other mad quests." I looped the straps of my haversack over my shoulder. "I half suspect this question will not be answered in Surefall though." "Whatever. You must try anyhow." Anna replied rhetorically, "I just wish I could send someone with you to the Karanas." I nodded but didn’t reply. "Cymrick!" Jaine’s bellow crashed through the maudlin silence like falling timber. Turning to face her, I barely caught an oaken staff hurled in my direction. "You’d best take this as well, Cym. A better weapon than an axe or a silly, spiked club." Examining the staff, I saw that Jaine was not exaggerating. It was six feet long and shod with fine steel, an excellent weapon. I added it to my growing pile of armaments. A spiked morning star and a hand axe were already amongst my possessions. For protection I was only wearing a cuirass of boiled leather sewn with metal rivets. Wearing armor was a new experience for me but I had decided not to rely strictly on my magic for protection. I had to settle with studded leather, as mailed armor costs a small fortune and my father’s armor was entombed with him. "My thanks, Jaine. Come to see me off?" I was a little curious. Jaine had been very preoccupied with the war preparations of late. "Yeh" She flashed a mad grin at me. Poking her finger in the direction of my weapons, she added, "Don’t go relying on that stuff too much. I’ve seen yeh fight, remember?" I grunted brusquely, "Don’t worry. I don’t intend to fight unless I have to. And then only if I think I can win." Gripping my mother’s shoulder, Jaine continued to mock me, "Ha ha! I’ve seen you run also. Once your courage has left you, there should be no gnoll capable of keeping up." "FA!!" I snarled with mock anger. I was somewhat relieved to see my mother relax and pat Jaine’s hand as we bickered. For a woman who talks so loudly and so often, Jaine is certainly attentive to what her friends are feeling. Perhaps there is something there I could learn? "Rhonan said he’s going to accompany me to the edge of the Stonelands. I shouldn’t keep him waiting." I gathered up my weapons and supplies as I talked. "Go. And good luck." Anna said and then she turned away, deciding not to watch me go. Leaving the city of Halas behind us, we traveled through the Everfrost Plains, a rocky, snow-swept expanse that borders the endless tundra of the northlands. The great city Halas sits in the highlands of these plains, acting as both capital and citadel for the Clans. Nestled amongst glacial lakes that overlook the Everfrost, it seemed that the City of the Clansmen watched us go. We descended from the frigid crags into the dense taiga that thrives in the northern hinterlands of Antonica. Only recently thawed, these lands are covered by a morning mist until the pale rays of the sun finally burn off the fog near mid-day. We marched through thick evergreens sluiced by freezing streams and crisscrossed with the trails of teeming wildlife. We marched in silence, the early mist making every noise deafening and the shafts of sunlight making the forests ghostly and surreal. The forests gave way into rolling highlands. Though dotted with homesteads, pasturelands, standing stones and groves of pine, the highlands were mostly dominated by riotous wild grasses, fed by the vigorous spring rainfall, and stones. We re-supplied at the ranch of a cousin of mine and were on our way. Fortune saw us through the rolling hills and to the edges of the Stonelands without incident. Halas was more than a weeks travel behind us now. As the land again climbed and the ground grew more rocky, I knew the time had come for me to part ways with my company and travel on alone. Rhonan had come with me, as had the rest of my usual hunting party. I was a little shocked when I found them waiting for me at the gates of Halas. Not all of my friends had known of my decision to leave but they all knew me well enough to be surprised by my plans. I turned and took a seat on a rock, sorting my equipment and my thoughts. I looked again to my comrades. They stood in awkward silence, no doubt having the same thoughts as I. "It’s time for me to go." I said simply. "Thanks for coming with me this far. I know you’ll have to hurry to get back in time for the muster." "It’s alright." Rhonan answered without hesitation, "Wouldn’t seem right if we sent you off alone." "It doesn’t feel right you leaving like this." Jordan blurted, "’Tis like one of our number has fallen before the battle ‘as even started. It’s a bad sign." I shook my head. "Don’t let that superstition get the better of you, Jordan, or bad things *will* happen. There’s no evil magic at work here." "I heard you volunteered for this mission." Mabel drawled. "I did." There was no use making excuses. "I won’t go into details, but it’s for the best." "I don’t see that." Mabel insisted softly. She knew that there was no changing the situation. "You’ll have to trust me. I wish I could be there with you when the battle starts. I really do." It was the honest truth. I had heard enough tales of heroic death in my lifetime. It pained me that I could return to Halas and find that one or more of these people were gone. I continued, "But the world still turns while the Clans go to battle and someone must attend to it. Even if it means I deliver mail while you all fight." There was a moment of silence, then we said our farewells. Mabel dragged me aside for a moment, "You be careful! I don’t want you to just vanish. I don’t know what I’d do if you just never returned. It’d drive me batty." She tried to keep her tone light, but I could see the tears in her eyes. I gave her a quick hug. "Don’t worry about me, Mabel. You watch yourself. And expect me back in a few months. I’ve no intention of dying." "A few months?! Travelling to and from the Plains of Karana won’t take more than four weeks." She pulled away from me, glaring fiercely. "I have other matters to attend to. I don’t know how long they’ll take. I’m sorry for that." Looking at Mabel, I was struck by how beautiful she is when she’s angry. I wonder what kind of relationship we’d have if the circumstances of my life weren’t so strange. "Stay in touch with my mother. She’ll know if I’m alright." She peered at me, silent for a time. "I remember when you were twelve, Cymrick. You were so calm and thoughtful. Always looking ahead, never really afraid. Then you became crass and callous. The boy I loved had vanished overnight. I spent years trying not to hate you but you were never the same. I can almost see that boy again. But you’re leaving..." She stamped her foot feebly on the hard ground. "This isn’t fair." her voice was a whisper. Brushing her cheek with my finger, I spoke soothingly, "You’ll do fine without me and I have to go." She embraced me swiftly and fiercely, then turned away, hiding her face. I seem to make women cry a lot. I always feel as low as a snake when I see tears on a woman’s face. I’m still surprised Mabel cares at all, after all these years. I gestured to Mariel. "Take care of Mabel for me." I asked my towering female friend. "I dun need you telling me how to care for my friends, Cym." she snarled softly. Noting my concern, she added, "I don’t get you. Surely you’re a self-centered creature but sometimes you almost seem to care." She smiled briefly. "What makes you so erratic?" "I do it to confuse slow-witted amazons." I jibed. "Ha!" Mariel slapped my backside, "Good luck. Watch your bum, Cymrick." Taking hold of her lapels, I shook her gently. "Not physically possible, Mariel, but I’ll try." I released her and turned to leave, my desire to be sentimental now depleted. I walked away and didn’t look back. After thirty seconds of stubborn marching I heard Rhonan’s voice behind me. "One second Cymrick." he said. Sighing, I turned around. "What is it, Rho?" "That big shaman, Malioch, told me to keep an eye on you." Rhonan confessed without any trace of shame. "Did he now?" I clenched my fists, "Did he say why?" "No, he didn’t." Staring at me hard, Rhonan spoke earnestly, "Is he the reason you are leaving?" I contemplated saying nothing. Instead I replied, "Regardless of what happens, there are always decisions to be made. This was my decision, Rhonan." I gestured back to the group, "You should go now. Take care of the group, Rhonan, and good luck in battle." He seemed to understand. After giving me a quick handclasp, he strode away silently. I turned away again, leaving my friends and home behind me. During my travel through the Stonelands, I pushed all thoughts of domestic concerns from my mind. I’ll readily confess that my people are not the stealthiest of creatures under normal circumstances and I didn’t want my own doubts hindering me further. The task ahead wasn’t as daunting as it would seem at first. A lone man could easily pass by unnoticed amidst the many ravines of the Stonelands, if he was careful. I knew the Sabertooths of Blackburrow were all about the area. Paw prints, discarded fur, gnawed bones and the occasional pile of steaming feces were amongst the many signs of their passage. Much like any ordinary cur, the dog-like gnolls felt the need to mark their territory in a most unsavory fashion. Despite my best efforts to eschew all contact with the creatures, I did encounter trouble during my second day of travel through the Stonelands. It was a fateful encounter. Not because of the gnolls but rather due to the company I fell in with while eluding the malevolent canines. The encounter left me with a new perspective of the near death experience I’d had the previous winter. I had never seen an adult gnoll before. He was an impressive creature, easily matching my height despite his characteristic gnoll slouch. He looked much like a standing hyena. He had a long snout on his face, no visible chin and two triangular ears atop his head. His build was wiry and lean. Long, lanky arms ending with knotted fists. Bandy legs ending with paws reminiscent of a jackrabbit. His entire body was covered in short brown fur that exuded an unpleasant musk. His eyes were black as pitch and set behind his long snout. All this I noted as I lay completely still, hiding in a bramble patch. My skin was covered with a multitude of scratches from the suddenness of my concealment and my breath came in shallow draughts as I watched the gnoll sniff the air. I had encountered this lone gnoll sentry earlier and I thought I had avoided detection. Climbing the wall of a shallow ravine, I had crept along the opposite side of the ridge with nary a stone displaced by my passage. All to no avail. Somehow he caught my scent and followed me up the ridge, eventually tracking me to this place. He came perilously close before I realized his presence. With nothing but a desiccated pine tree, a steep decline and a shallow bramble patch to conceal me, I dove headlong into the undergrowth hoping to avoid detection for a few more precious seconds. Now the mangy cur stalked about the rocky outcropping with a spiked club clutched in his fist, sniffing the air and growling softly. I’ll have to kill him. Much like my kinsmen, gnolls are social creatures. There was little hope that this cur was far from comrades. I can only hope he’s far enough from help that I can affect an escape after I slay him. Scarcely daring to breathe, I mouthed a silent entreaty to the spirits. I felt my inner fire blaze as the fever of a Spirit Caller overtook me. My senses sharpened and the pain from the scratches on my body dulled to mere annoyances. First I called upon the Spirit of the Cat, begging him to bestow upon me his dazzling agility. Then I called upon Spirit of the Goat, inheriting his stability and dexterity. As I felt the essence of two mighty animal totems house themselves within my flesh, I silently crouched like a cat ready to pounce. I exploded from concealment and leapt into the gnoll’s waiting arms. He was obviously surprised by my sudden appearance, as he only had time to raise his club before my knees struck him in the chest. Our collision threw us both down the nearby decline. I hit the steep slope and rolled a short distance before regaining my feet. Rather than trying to halt my decent, I instead ran down the slope at breakneck speed, my footfalls starting a small avalanche of stones wherever they landed. Not far to my right, the gnoll sentry tumbled head over heels, unwittingly using all parts of his body to slow his mad decent. I leapt the last ten feet and landed in a crouch. The gnoll slammed into the ground like a broken rag doll, one arm, one leg and his back all twisted at unhealthy angles. Remarkably he still had his weapon. Naturally, I did as well. One swift blow from my staff finished the distressed canine. Despite my new set of bruises, I was exultant. I had killed my first gnoll in a fast and spectacular fashion. Perhaps I’ll do my share of killing gnolls this summer after all... My elation turned abruptly to shock when I noticed that there were another two living gnolls in the ravine with me. The nearest was only eighty feet from me. Their shock at the sudden appearance of a young barbarian was fleeting. The lead gnoll barked a fierce command in his own tongue and I heard a reply to my left. Turning swiftly I spotted a third gnoll on the ravine wall, this one armed with a bow. An archer! I watched as he notched an arrow, drew back the string and fired a shot into the air. The arrow made a loud whine as it flew. Drek! A signal arrow. Drek, drek, DREK!! Three here and more nearby. As I readied myself for a desperate battle, I scanned the ravine for an obvious exit, already planning my retreat. But before I could act, the situation changed again. The gnoll archer gave up a yelp of pain and I heard his bow clatter down the rocky slope. Chancing a glance in his direction, I saw him double over and fall onto his back, clutching an arrow in his belly. I spotted the other archer on the right-side of the ravine, standing very near to where I had been hidden only minutes before. I could see he was wearing a dark colored cloak and notching another arrow to his longbow. "I’ll stay their advance. Climb!" his tense voice fell upon me. I started to climb the rocky slope as my mysterious ally launched a second arrow, this time firing at the lead gnoll on the ravine floor. The arrow struck the gnoll’s upraised shield, forcing him from his feet. The second gnoll dashed to aid his pack mate. He ran towards us, holding a spear in throwing position over his right shoulder. I scrambled up the slope, my heart hammering in my chest. The stranger’s bow sang again and the second gnoll dropped without a sound, an arrow standing erect in his eye socket. The only remaining gnoll cowered under his shield and howled for help. The dark archer dropped to a crouch and sped an arrow into the gnoll’s exposed thigh. The gnoll’s howl was swiftly transformed into a yelp of pain. When I finally climbed to the lip of the ravine, I saw the stranger was unstringing his bow. Upon closer examination, I could only tell he was not one of my kinsmen. He was too short and too slight to be a northerner. The bow he was unstringing was an ashwood recurve bow, quite unlike the composite bows used by my people. Aside from a glimpse of mailed armor, I could see nothing else of the stranger. He wore a black cloak that covered him to his ankles and he was wearing the hood up. "Who are you?!" I asked, my voice sharp and demanding due to my excitement. Very tactful, I admonished myself silently. He didn’t seem to notice my tone. "I am afraid there is little time for introductions, Northman. There is a company of gnolls nearby and I am confident they pursue us at this very instant." his voice was a suave whisper, every word pronounced deliberately. His tone was cool and unhurried. "A company?!" I echoed stupidly. "Yes. Forty gnolls plus officers." he answered, his tone the same as before. "Forty gnolls?!" I gasped. "Yes. Did you perchance suffer a blow to the head? I fear either your reasoning or your hearing have become somewhat impaired." he replied, his voice was now filled with open mirth. He turned towards me as he answered this time. His face was lean and his skin coppery colored from what I could see. His eyes were dark green and almond shaped. Given our situation, I felt his mirth was somewhat inappropriate. Recovering from the shock of my near escape I addressed him again, more seriously this time, "Thanks for the help stranger. Now, shouldn’t we be making good our escape? It is a long way to the Qeynos Foothills and these gnolls will likely pursue us every step." Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he answered confidently, "We only need elude them for six hours, perhaps eight." "Why?" I demanded, getting more than a little anxious. "It will rain in six hours, perhaps eight." he answered. His tone was deathly serious giving me the distinct impression he was still mocking me. "And I know where we may find refuge until then." "You aren’t worried at all, are you?" I growled. He paused, his tone thoughtful, "I am... somewhat worried. I am not entirely certain I can outrun every gnoll in the Stonelands." Relief played on his face as his lips twisted into a warm smile, "But I’m certain I can outrun my northman companion. Therefore, I am unlikely to be the gnolls victim." "Why you! We’ll see about that." Placing a hand over my heart, I touched my inner fire again. I called out across the void to the spirit world, this time audibly, "Mighty Spirit of Wolf, touch my heart. Become one with your medium, your mortal vessel." I saw my mysterious companion start when a tangible lupine aura filled the air about me. For some reason, this was very satisfying. A shard of the Wolf Spirit’s essence leapt into my body, striking a temporary alliance with the Cat and Goat Spirits already lurking there. I felt the Wolf’s gift in me, fast feet and stamina to match. The stranger recovered from his shock quickly, "You are a shaman! How very fortuitous." It was my turn to be surprised again, "You know of my people’s magics?" He considered his words carefully, "Such things... are not unknown to me." He gestured to himself, "I’ve heard that shamans can bestow the power of spirits upon those in their company. Could you...?" "Humpf. I’m not sure I should." I replied haughtily. I summoned the vexing Wolf Spirit again and cast her essence into my strange visitor. I could feel my inner flame steadily diminishing, but it was still strong enough for the task. "Shall we go?" he asked at last. "Lead." I gestured south. My companion led us steadily south. Displaying impressive path-finding abilities, he took us around the roughest terrain when possible. When it was not possible, he displayed remarkable agility in clearing obstacles. He was as nimble as I, regardless of my supernatural powers. The foreigner didn’t talk much, though he did whisper a lyrical mantra, or perhaps a prayer of some kind. I was not sure which. An hour after our retreat began, the wind shifted to our backs. A great stroke of luck, as it confounded the pursuing gnoll’s ability to track us by scent. Additionally, the clouds could now be seen in the sky, although they were still distant. I could only marvel at my companion’s foresight. After staying ahead of pursuit for some time, my foreign companion finally came to a halt. Gesturing for me to follow, he proceeded to climb a nearby hillock, dropping onto his belly and slithering forward as he neared the top. He threw back his hood and peered cautiously over the summit of the hill. My first real look at the stranger’s features was a shock. As I had guessed, he had long black hair. But it was his ears that surprised me. His ears were pointed, like the faeries and imps in children’s tales. His slender build, coppery skin, almond-shaped eyes and pointed ears, when taken together, made it clear this stranger was not human at all. I was so shocked and fascinated, I didn’t even bother looking over the hilltop. "You’re an elf!" I blurted, suddenly fathoming what I was looking at. He pulled back and regarded me levelly. "Yes." He moved to look over the hilltop once more, but stopped. A wide grin split his face and he pulled back to regard me again. "Very astute my friend. Evidently it *was* your hearing that was damaged because your cognitive abilities are obviously intact." He was enjoying himself immensely. His mirth didn’t put a dent in my fascination. "I thought elves were pale and fragile, like porcelain dolls." He seemed to find something funny about that and grinned again, showing even white teeth (with no canines, I noticed). "Some are. I am a Wood Elf. Or Koada Vie as my people call ourselves." "I’ve never seen an elf before." I said, my words standing unnecessary alongside my gawking. "These lands are far from our homeland. My people rarely come this far and rarely show themselves when they do." He rose gracefully to his feet, the nature of his innate agility now explained. "I hope you’ve gotten a good enough look. You’re making me self-conscious. No mean feat, I assure you." I grunted and flipped to my feet. "Don’t worry. Your wit is fast diminishing the novelty of your appearance." He smiled tolerantly, "The way is clear, let’s go." On the other side of the hillock there was a cave. My elf companion entered it without hesitation and I followed him reluctantly. Inside the cave it was completely dark and there was an abominable stench in the air. "Are you sure this is a good place to wait?" I asked after a moment of fumbling in the dark. My companion didn’t seem to have any difficulty seeing in the dark. "I wouldn’t suggest we ‘wait’ here. But taking this route will doubtlessly shake pursuit for a time." he replied cryptically. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that this wasn’t a cave at all, rather it was a tunnel. "What is this place?" I hissed, suspecting the answer already. "Blackburrow." His answer was not welcome news. "Are you mad?!" I hissed, my voice dropping to an angry whisper. "This is the last place they will think to look for us and the musk of their lair will mask our scent." he answered levelly. "I’ve found this can be an effective way to elude the Sabertooths. They long since dug too many burrows to effectively guard them all. We can use their own passages to continue our travel south and hopefully emerge once the weather will help conceal our passage." I was starting to calm down again, "You’ve been here before then?" He looked back at me, mirth in his eyes. "Right." I channeled the inner fire again, calling this time the Spirit of the Serpent. "Taste the air, feel the heat of the warm-blooded. Instill me with your aspect, dreaded serpent." I felt a small portion of the Serpent’s power enter my body, joining the Wolf within my flesh. The Spirit of the Cat and the Goat had long since left me. With the Serpent’s gift, I could discern the heat in objects at a glance. The cold stone was distinguishable from the warm air. Both were starkly different from the aura of a warm blooded creature. With the Serpent’s Sight, I was no longer blind in the darkness. "Lead on then." I urged. "But let’s try to stay out of trouble. I’m sure the gnolls will respond in force if there is a disturbance within their lair." He nodded and we started walking. It’s not in my nature to blindly trust strangers. Certainly not to the extent that I follow them into the lair of my ancestral enemies. I just couldn’t imagine a plausible reason that this foreigner would help me out of a dire situation, only to abandon me shortly thereafter. No reason, save perhaps madness. Yet he seemed sane, albeit unnaturally spirited given our predicament. To satisfy my own misgivings, I tried to keep my sense of direction and a clear idea of how to get to the surface. I did not want to be left without options, should my companion decide to flee to protect his own life. To his credit, it seemed the elf wasn’t exaggerating when he spoke of Blackburrow. His knowledge of the tunnels was considerable and there did seem to be relatively few guards about. We only encountered a single sentry, who we surprised and dispatched with ease. Our good fortune held for a time, but it was fated that our luck would not last. When the barking of angry gnolls could be heard coming from the warrens to our rear, my companion stopped to listen. "The corpse we left behind has been discovered." He hurried ahead, visibly concerned for the first time since our meeting. I followed him closely as we made haste towards the surface. We didn’t get far before our path was barred by the sudden appearance of two gnolls, looking like glowing ghosts to my enchanted sight. They were plainly aware of our presence and had weapons at the ready. One of the gnolls cracked out with a whip, ensnaring my staff. The cur pulled his whip taut and I charged him like a bull, cheating the whip of its tension. I rammed my forehead into the surprised gnoll’s furry muzzle. The impact was stunning. The world swam and lights danced in front of my eyes. My foe hadn’t weathered the collision any better than I. He was doubled over and could only just protect himself as I took a hold of his fur and tried to knee him in the head. He shook my hand off his shoulder. So I balled up my fist and punched him hard in the side of the neck. I then jammed the base of my staff into his kneecap while he was reeling, his discarded whip still entwined about my weapon. He slumped to the ground, much to my relief. I swiftly descended upon the distressed gnoll and finished him with two frenzied blows. I wheeled unsteadily to help my companion, my legs obeying my wishes reluctantly. The elf had his chisel-pointed sword down at his side, resting loosely in his right hand. The second gnoll had no marks of violence upon him aside from a spreading pool of blood under his fallen body. He looked over me once and started pulling on a pair of leather gauntlets. "Our pursuers are very close now." As if to emphasize the elf’s words, I heard a sharp staccato of yelping noises from our trail. The elf gestured ahead of us, "Continue up this passage. I will rejoin you as soon as I’m able." His face grim, he hid his sword under his cloak and pulled up his hood before darting back in the direction of our pursuers. I ran about thirty paces up the tunnel before my head started to clear. Wait! Just what are you doing, elf? Buying time for *me* to escape?! Stopping abruptly, I turned around and ran in the direction my valiant companion had gone. My decision quickly proved to be an unfortunate one. Rather than finding my elven companion setting some elaborate ambush, I instead ran into four gnolls searching for us. The closest gnoll reacted the instant I appeared in front of him. Clubbing at me with his spear, he was lucky enough to strike my elbow with the haft of his weapon. Involuntarily, I dropped my staff. Instead of impaling me as he should have, the gnoll lunged at me and tried to fasten his jaws around my throat. I was just able to jam my forearm into his neck, making him gag. After a moment of struggling, I pinned his spear arm against my flank. I would have very likely been killed at this point if the other three gnolls hadn’t been so distracted by my companion’s sudden assault. Some form of magic was at work. A previously inconspicuous fold in the tunnel wall metamorphosed into a black-cloaked, elven ranger, bent on destroying the dog-creatures. He gave no war cry to warn the gnolls of his attack. The cur unlucky enough to be standing in the rear was decapitated with an audible crunch, his neck barely impeding the killing sword’s progress. Wasting no time, my ally darted ahead and delivered a powerful kick to the second gnoll, striking him in the back of the knees. His blow had the desired effect of knocking the gnoll flat and pulling the attention of his single, unoccupied companion away from the two grappling combatants. Fortunately, my foe was scrawny example of the gnoll species. Throwing my weight against him, I was able to smash him into the tunnel wall, dazing him momentarily. Wrapping my arms around his spear arm and putting my hip into his flank, I then hurled him over my shoulder. As soon as he landed, I seized his spear with both hands and pulled, trying to disarm him. The gnoll’s grip was so tight, I ended up pulling him to his feet instead and a struggle for the spear commenced. The second gnoll met the elf with a short sword in each hand, his ferocity turning to desperation as he realized his peril. My comrade made no attempt to parry. His superior speed and swordsmanship quickly forced his foe on the defensive. My elven friend cut, slashed and stabbed at the gnoll until one of his clever strokes sliced through the hairy creature’s rawhide wristband, severing his hand. Shocked and crippled, the beleaguered gnoll could do nothing to prevent the elf from making two whip-like cuts across his neck, a swift one-handed blow to the right and then the left. Twisting the spear in my grasp, I got command of the weapon momentarily and plowed its iron-shod base into the gnoll’s head. With a terrific heave, I then ripped it from the gnoll’s grasp. Staggering backwards, I thrust the gnoll away from me by buffeting him in the collarbone with shaft of the spear. As both my opponent and I regained our balance, I grasped the spear in both hands and thrust it towards the gnoll’s midriff. My blow struck its mark, impaling him. The force of my blow, coupled with my death-grip on its haft, caused the spear to snap in two as the gnoll’s body stuck the ground. My companion spun like a top and sliced with his sword all in one motion, cutting the last gnoll’s face as he regained his footing. Losing sight in one eye, the canine howled and charged his tormentor. The nimble elf darted aside and slashed the gnoll’s left thigh to the bone with a murderous riposte. Now berserk, the gnoll clubbed madly at his foe with his morning star. But to no avail, the immobilized gnoll’s attack proved ineffective, as the elf ranger backed out of reach and struck again from the gnoll’s blindside. The point of his sword pierced the gnoll’s back and found his heart, ending the fight. I retrieved my staff just as my swordsman ally withdrew his blade from the last gnoll’s back. Without a word exchanged, we fled up the tunnel, seeking the surface. A few minutes later, I could feel fresh air blowing from the tunnel ahead and I could hear the sound of thunder and heavy rainfall. "Why did you come back? I told you to go ahead." my elf companion spoke at last, his tone was tight and strained. Startling us both, I suddenly broke out laughing. "I thought you needed help with the gnolls. I went back to rescue you." I roared with laughter, still numb and shocked from the severity of our encounter with the gnolls. As we burst out of a tunnel entrance into the night, we were greeted by a thunderous spring storm and the blessed, concealing darkness of nighttime. All that could be heard of our passage was the uproarious laughter of a northerner and an elf, savoring a grisly joke. Rain beat fiercely upon our makeshift shelter as I brewed tea and tried to ignore the chaffing of my wet clothes. I prefer snow. My companion had somehow managed to build a fire using wet wood. But only after he constructed a crude lean-to using a length of rope, some branches from a fir tree and my winter blanket. While he did that, I concentrated on preparing a quick meal. My rations were more appealing than his by far and I’d always been an enthusiastic cook. I’ve never been much of a drinker but I do love to eat. We were both fatigued from the previous day. We had run nearly until dawn, when the Spirit of the Wolf finally withdrew her influence. We were now in the Qeynos Hills and there was no sign of any pursuing gnolls. My companion seemed to be more effected by our long flight than the gnolls we encountered. I, on the other hand, had more endurance and a far more impressive collection of bruises, cuts, gouges and bite marks. It was now early morning, but the weather made it difficult to determine the time. I started skinning a rabbit I picked up in the Highlands and cleared my throat. "So what is your name, traveler? I can’t go calling you ‘elf’" He looked up from cleaning his sword. "Taelosi." His sword was slightly curved, with almost no guard or pommel. It had a chisel point and only one edge. "I am an Emerald Warrior in the service of Mother Tunare and King Theris Thex." "I am Cymrick of Clan McMarrin. Initiate of the Tribunal’s Order. Servant of the Six Hammers." I extended a hand. "Well met, Taelosi." He took my hand, "And well met to you, Cymrick." I turned my attention back to the rabbit, "I’m glad you happened upon me when you did. Despite my best intentions, the gnolls put me in a rough position." I finished skinning the rabbit and started cutting it apart. "I’ve never seen a swordsman of your skill either." He chuckled, "The gnolls are flattering foes. Killing them is more of a chore than a fight." He sheathed his sword. "But I have a confession to make, Cymrick. You only ended up in danger because of an error on my part. You see, the first gnolls you encountered yesterday were actually tracking me. While attempting to elude them, I accidentally crossed your trail. The ignorant canines switched prey and began to trail you before I realized my blunder." My knife froze. When I looked up and saw the grave, apologetic look on his face my anger evaporated. But it wasn’t the light of charity that calmed me, it was the sudden, unexpected spark of recognition. I’ve never seen an elf in my life. Not once. How could he be familiar? How could I recognize him? My attention wandered as I beat my brain trying to remember where I could have seen this man before. "Cymrick?" Taelosi’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. "I hope you realize I intended no ill will. I take great pains to see that no one suffers as a result of my actions, save those I mean to suffer. That is why I saw you through the Stonelands." "Yes. Alright. I understand Taelosi, abandon your guilt if you should have any." I scratched my temple, "I’m worried about my people. It’s widely believed that the Sabertooth Tribe is preoccupied with their raids to the south. Now I find no less than a company of the creatures was waiting near clan territory." Taelosi removed and folded his cloak, "Few sane creatures on Rathe will turn their backs to your people, Cymrick. And hundreds of years of war have taught the Sabertooths who their enemies are." Taelosi was wearing a mixture of chainmail, studded leather and platemail as armor. Oddly, it was only his shins and thighs that bore silver-filigreed plate for protection. A waistcoat of chainmail crafted from elven steel protected his chest, midriff, arms and waist. Studded leather reinforced his shoulders, left arm and the left side of his chest. Taken at a glance, his armor appeared more customized and well worn, than mismatched. "I was headed north before I crossed your path." he spoke casually. "Do you intend to press on towards your original destination once we have rested?" I probed cautiously, wondering if he was offering me a way to solve my dilemma. "I do." he answered simply. It was decided then. "I have a favor to ask of you then, Taelosi. Could you take word of our encounter to my people? Speak with Anna McMarrin. Tell her you traveled with her son and let her know about the gnolls. She will deal with my people directly." "Very well." He turned my way again, "Perhaps I’ll regale your mother with the tales of your bravery also?" his was grinning again, no doubt trying to imagine what kind of family spawned the headstrong barbarian seated before him. "Make sure to tell her about how you led me into Blackburrow as well. She’d like to hear that part." I commented dryly. Giving a low chuckle, he rested his head on his folded cloak and closed his eyes. "Wake me when you’ve finished cooking your stew." He cracked an eye open and watched me peel potatoes for a second. "I’ve never seen a man without a wagon travel with so much food." Taelosi and I ate, rested until the rain stopped at midday and then broke camp. As we parted company, I let him know that I intended to be in Surefall Glade in several week’s time. Perhaps I shouldn’t have revealed so much of my plans to the jovial elf, but the strange feeling of familiarity nagged at me. Somehow Taelosi was important... The following weeks of travel were solitary and uneventful. These southern lands had a different appearance and feeling from my own home. The temperature was pleasant but the weather more wet than I was used to. I had to purchase better equipment from passing pilgrims to protect myself from the elements, taxing my meager coinage. When I asked, the pilgrims told me they traveled northeast, through the hills to the Surefall Glade. Not long before I am there myself. A pilgrim of a different kind. By nightfall of the second day, I saw my way clear of the Qeynos Hills. Beyond the hills, the land flattened out, making travel much easier. I followed the highway and the scattered stone markers dotting the wilds until I found my way into the vast lowlands known as the Plains of Karana. I never saw the city of Qeynos, though I knew it lay somewhere to the southeast. I knew from looking at maps that these plains were vast. They ran from the eastern ocean, Erud’s Crossing, all the way to the Serpent’s Spine, a mountain range that cleaves the continent of Antonica in two. From north to south, the plains stretch from the Jaggedpine Forest, where the Surefall Glade is, to the Mountains of Rathe. Named after the God of Storms, the plains cover nearly a quarter of the continent and make me very glad for the rain gear I purchased earlier. A great river called ‘The Serpent’ runs through the plains. In the western most reaches of the plains on the banks of this river is a fishing village inhabited by the McMannus Clan. The patriarch of this clan is Einhorst, the man I’m supposed to deliver the dispatches to. If not for the spring thaw swelling the river, I could have made passage on a boat from the gates of Halas to the dock in Einhorst’s village. A lone traveler in the wilderness, I had to sleep lightly. There are all manner of hungry predators that prowl the plains. Lions, wolves and bears to name a few. And stranger things. Some say that giants still march amongst the hills to the northwest of the plains. Laying awake at night, listening to the cries of night animals gave me time to think. During my second night in the Karanas, I realized where I’d seen Taelosi before. The vision! Though I did not remember much about the fever dream, I could clearly remember the dark cloaked wood elf now. I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes. I saw my future! I laid awake for hours trying to remember every detail of the vision I had, but I couldn’t summon any other faces. I remember an evil tree, a dying land, a siege of death and I saw myself imprisoned. What could it all mean? Is it a prophecy? Is it self-fulfilling or can I avoid it? Do I want to avoid it? There was no answer for me but I vowed to find one. Two more days to the McMannus village and then a week to reach Surefall from there. Perhaps the druids will have an answer. Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | ||
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