apparent.
“And you, Dagna?”
Dagna laughed merrily. She seemed in perennial good
humor, even under the worst of circumstances. “I hope to write an
epic ballad from this adventure.” She nudged Elyara in the
ribs.
“And you?”
“Our shaman had a vision, and our tribal chieftain
determined that I should go.” Elyara shrugged. “I didn't quite
understand any of it.” She turned to Feyden.
“And how about you?”
A grim look settled on Feyden's features and he did
not at first reply. As the silence lengthened, several glanced in
his direction until finally he spoke. His tone was quietly
bitter.
“My people were attacked by Hyr'rok'kin and my
youngest sister was killed by them.”
“I'm sorry,” Elyara stammered.
“Don't be,” Feyden said, “I was a child and my days
of mourning are long over.”
The group again fell into silence, although now it
was heavy and uncomfortable. It was Idonea that broke it.
“And how about you, Raine? Why did you agree to come
on this quest?”
The question seemed loaded with significance but
Raine's answer was mild, as if the answer was self-evident.
“Because you asked for help.”
That seemed to end the conversation although one
question remained unasked. Raine did not think Idonea would answer
truthfully, so she did not bother asking her why she had come.
They were descending from one mountain range into a
valley which would give them a brief respite before they began
ascending through another, steeper set of cliffs. There was a
fair-sized village at the base of the mountain and they determined
to spend a day in the town before continuing. The band was evenly
divided, with the four humans wishing to sleep in real beds at the
lodge, and the two elves and Raine wishing to camp on the outskirts
of the village. Lorifal determined he would begin drinking at the
tavern and wherever he ended up was fine.
Gunnar set about visiting with the village elders,
trying to find any news of the Hyr'rok'kin or the empire's response
to the growing threat. Elyara sought out the local healer, seeking
to trade for herbs or recipes. Bristol followed Idonea about, in
his mind protecting her from the lustful looks of the male
townfolk, in her mind, annoying her endlessly. She was not
interested in any of these bumpkins and could likely fry them from
the inside out were they to attempt anything. She thought perhaps
she should just sleep with Bristol and get it over with, but was
afraid he would then declare his undying love for her and
complicate the entire mission.
Much to Idonea's amusement, Dagna went to visit the
local temple. Apparently habits of the church, at least those that
were easier to maintain than chastity, lingered even after the
excommunication. Idonea herself did not care much for the church as
they sought to control or exterminate most mages. And black magic
was considered a grave offense against the Divine.
Feyden and Raine sat quietly at their campsite,
Feyden smoking a long pipe and Raine smoking a short cheroot she
had made with the pungent tobacco Feyden had offered. They were
quite content, seated in a small patch of sunlight that would soon
disappear as the sun dipped below the mountains. Neither was
inclined to move or talk, and the silence, broken only by the
chirping of birds and the thrum of insects, was comfortable.
A muffled crash drifted across the fields from the
general direction of the village. Neither seemed perturbed by the
commotion, which was joined by muffled shouts that also drifted
their way. Finally, reluctantly, Raine acknowledged the fracas.
“Why am I guessing that's Lorifal?”
Feyden took a deep draw on his pipe. “Because you
have actually met the dwarf.”
“Ah,” Raine said, drawing deeply and finishing her
own smoke. She ground it into the dirt and rose from her seated
position. “I guess I should go check on him.”
Feyden tapped the remaining tobacco from his own
pipe, extinguishing it. “I will go, too,” he
“And you, Dagna?”
Dagna laughed merrily. She seemed in perennial good
humor, even under the worst of circumstances. “I hope to write an
epic ballad from this adventure.” She nudged Elyara in the
ribs.
“And you?”
“Our shaman had a vision, and our tribal chieftain
determined that I should go.” Elyara shrugged. “I didn't quite
understand any of it.” She turned to Feyden.
“And how about you?”
A grim look settled on Feyden's features and he did
not at first reply. As the silence lengthened, several glanced in
his direction until finally he spoke. His tone was quietly
bitter.
“My people were attacked by Hyr'rok'kin and my
youngest sister was killed by them.”
“I'm sorry,” Elyara stammered.
“Don't be,” Feyden said, “I was a child and my days
of mourning are long over.”
The group again fell into silence, although now it
was heavy and uncomfortable. It was Idonea that broke it.
“And how about you, Raine? Why did you agree to come
on this quest?”
The question seemed loaded with significance but
Raine's answer was mild, as if the answer was self-evident.
“Because you asked for help.”
That seemed to end the conversation although one
question remained unasked. Raine did not think Idonea would answer
truthfully, so she did not bother asking her why she had come.
They were descending from one mountain range into a
valley which would give them a brief respite before they began
ascending through another, steeper set of cliffs. There was a
fair-sized village at the base of the mountain and they determined
to spend a day in the town before continuing. The band was evenly
divided, with the four humans wishing to sleep in real beds at the
lodge, and the two elves and Raine wishing to camp on the outskirts
of the village. Lorifal determined he would begin drinking at the
tavern and wherever he ended up was fine.
Gunnar set about visiting with the village elders,
trying to find any news of the Hyr'rok'kin or the empire's response
to the growing threat. Elyara sought out the local healer, seeking
to trade for herbs or recipes. Bristol followed Idonea about, in
his mind protecting her from the lustful looks of the male
townfolk, in her mind, annoying her endlessly. She was not
interested in any of these bumpkins and could likely fry them from
the inside out were they to attempt anything. She thought perhaps
she should just sleep with Bristol and get it over with, but was
afraid he would then declare his undying love for her and
complicate the entire mission.
Much to Idonea's amusement, Dagna went to visit the
local temple. Apparently habits of the church, at least those that
were easier to maintain than chastity, lingered even after the
excommunication. Idonea herself did not care much for the church as
they sought to control or exterminate most mages. And black magic
was considered a grave offense against the Divine.
Feyden and Raine sat quietly at their campsite,
Feyden smoking a long pipe and Raine smoking a short cheroot she
had made with the pungent tobacco Feyden had offered. They were
quite content, seated in a small patch of sunlight that would soon
disappear as the sun dipped below the mountains. Neither was
inclined to move or talk, and the silence, broken only by the
chirping of birds and the thrum of insects, was comfortable.
A muffled crash drifted across the fields from the
general direction of the village. Neither seemed perturbed by the
commotion, which was joined by muffled shouts that also drifted
their way. Finally, reluctantly, Raine acknowledged the fracas.
“Why am I guessing that's Lorifal?”
Feyden took a deep draw on his pipe. “Because you
have actually met the dwarf.”
“Ah,” Raine said, drawing deeply and finishing her
own smoke. She ground it into the dirt and rose from her seated
position. “I guess I should go check on him.”
Feyden tapped the remaining tobacco from his own
pipe, extinguishing it. “I will go, too,” he
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