Tavern Tales: Come on in and Have a Drink! Part II

[WillieSea]

William sped over the last hill just before reaching the spring that was the head of the Strid River, and stopped suddenly, with his mouth agape.

Before him was the witches hut, but it was several hundred feet in the air on a spire of stone. There was one thick cable anchored into a nearby hill and angled upwards to the house, far above.

A riding basket could be seen attached to the cable up by the house. William yelled and hollered but no one appeared at the house.

Looking around, he decided to make his way across the cable to the house. Removing his leather shoes, he tested the cables strength. Balancing his arms outward, he started across the cable, one foot after the other, griping the line with his toes. Briefly looking down, large rocks could be seen far below. One misstep would spell disaster.

About half way across, the cable started shaking violently and William was hard pressed to keep his balance. Looking up the line, an old crone was pulling back and forth on the cable and cackling with glee! Fortunately, his many years training as an assassin gave him very good reflexes and balance.

Using his weight, William started to counter the movement the witch was putting into the line, and it slowed in its movements. William took one cautious step after the other as the cable moved slowly back and forth under him.

The witch stopped cackling and folded her arms on her chest and glared down at the approaching man. This was certainly one determined soul, but this only showed that she would have to be doubly cautious. She did not like uninvited guests. Especially guests that could walk a tight rope without falling off.

William finally reached the rock pinnacle and jumped down off the cable. The witch was still glaring at him. Looking closely at the witch, a shimmer seemed to pass between them, and for a moment, William thought he saw someone else standing in the witches place. Shaking his head, he focused again on the witch.

Silence reigned supreme atop the rock spire. Only the creaking of the old shack in the wind could be heard. Finally, William broke the silence and spoke to the witch. Bending down into a bow, he said Please excuse my intrusion on your solitude, but I have need of your services. The mighty Akatosh sent me to seek your council.

The witch looked back, wide eyed! Her gaping mouth quickly shut with a clack of her crooked teeth. Squinting and moving forward, she glared at William. Walking around him, checking him over.

Yeessss, ye might be the one Akatosh ye say, hmmm, Akatosh, yeessss. Bring me the potion and I'll give ye the stone, the stone, yeessss. The stone can help ye remember, it can, it can! But I must have the potion first, bring it to me, bring it, quick like now, quick! Fetch me the potion of life and I'll give ye the stone. You want the stone, yeessss? Will you fetch me the potion?

William looked at the witch. There was more here than was visible. There was a strong magic surrounding this spire, he could feel it right down to his bones. Not dangerous, just powerful. Perhaps this was a test. But, what was this potion of life that she was talking about? He had no potion of life. The only special potion he had was that bottle with the collected water of time in it. Realization dawned on William; the old crone wanted that potion, probably to revitalize her youth, and by the looks of her, it would probably take the whole bottle! But how did she know he had it, nobody knew he had it, not even his friends.

Akatosh had sent him here for a reason; he needed the stone she had. Without it, what good would the potion of time do him anyway? The witch was staring straight into William's eyes. There was a cold look in the witch's eyes, and something else, like a deep sorrow, even a sparkle of hope.

William seemed to surface from a daze, things were suddenly becoming clear. This whole situation he was in, he was finally starting to understand, and see hope, which gave him a faith in himself and his friends that he had never had in his life. There was good in the world, he just had to seek it out instead of looking at the bad.

William spoke directly to the witch, locking eyes. I will give you the potion in exchange for the stone. But it will take me some time to retrieve William had stopped speaking when the exp​ression on the old crone grew into a wicked smile, she then cast a spell on William before he had time to react.

The world around him went dark, and nausea came over him

[WhoGuru]

Red and Savior rode deep into the night. Finally, when she'd put more than a mile between her and the Tavern, she dismounted. Quickly, she pulled her Cloak from his saddle and rubbed his head. "Time for you to go home friend." She spoke softly to him. He nickered, butting her shoulder as if in argument. "You go back. I'd rather not have them grab you and me at the same time." She gave him a last rub and then a light slap on the rump to send him on his way.

He left, returning through the trees, but stopped often to glance back at her before finally moving out of sight.

Red sighed, his company would have been nice, but the ones hunting her were not above killing her horse to make a point. She set off deeper into the trees, alert for anything that might give away if she was being followed.

For a long time, she heard nothing but the nights sounds of the forest. A chill rode the air and she threw on her cloak. As the weight of the fabric settled, she heard something out of place. Nothing. There was suddenly no sound at all in the forest. The night bugs were silent and only the gentle breeze continued to move. She couldn't help wishing William and the Rider were with her. They'd have made short of work of this mess but then, she'd have had to explain and she wasn't sure she could do that. Ever. William might understand, she thought.

She shook her head. She was distracting herself at a dangerous time. She focused once again on the lack of sound and knew she had been found. She silently stepped to a tree, flattening herself against it's trunk and, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, waited and watched. For a time, nothing happened and she thought perhaps it wasn't her assassins at all that had silenced the forest. Then, far ahead through the trees, she saw a form slipping between the trunks.

With a dangerous smile, she moved again, following the figure. She wished she could be sure if he had seen her or not. The figure led her through the forest, never in a straight line, sometimes doubling back on itself. She finally decided that he must be looking for her. Whoever it was, knew she was in the forest, but had yet to find her. Good thing she'd sent Savior back.

She decided to gain some ground and get a look at her prey and just like that, the trap was sprung. Red felt the prick of something sharp in her neck, swinging her hand up, she came away with a small dart. "Stupid." She said to herself and began to weave where she stood. The figure had been leading her, drawing her out and she'd fallen for it. Her vision doubled, then blurred and at last she fell to the forest floor and lay staring up at the stars as consciousness left her.

Red came too in a haze. A sharp slap on her cheek brought her fully awake. She was tied to a tree, her manacled wrists suspended above her head and the angry face of an Imperial stared back at her. He slapped her again.

"With us again, are you?" He said and turned away. She'd been searching for him and he had found her. AL. The letters on her death warrant, Asteus Leonde, Dark brotherhood assassin and once friend. The sole survivor, save herself, of their sanctuary. "It's been a long time, Red." He spat her name and turned to her again. The dancing flames of the fire he'd built up showed madness in his eyes.

"Not long enough." She replied and smiled at him. She'd wanted to find a way to end the hunt. If she survived, she'd consider coming with serious back-up next time, answers be damned.

"The Brotherhood misses you, Sister." He said in a low voice. "I've come to send you to our dread Father as should have been done long ago."

"I am not your sister." She said softly. "I am not one of you anymore. The Night Mother released me from my contract."

"Lies!" He yelled and, stepping to her, slapped her again hard enough to rock her head. "Why would she do such a thing?"

"You know why!" Red yelled back, a tear tracked down her face and she quickly squashed the emotion. It would serve her no purpose now.

Asteus slapped her again and stalked away. Red stole a glance up at the manacles binding her and smiled. At least escaping those would be easy. "I don't believe you. Such a thing would never happen. Once the choice is made..."

"I never chose!" She yelled it at him, all the old anger rising up in her once more. "It was never my choice!" She kicked out at him in a fit of temper and quickly controlled herself again. Asteus laughed at her.

"Little Red. Such lethal potential in such a small package." He pulled her blade from his belt and turned it in the light of the fire. "Tell me, where did you acquire this? Hmm?" He glanced up at her and laughed again. "You will tell me before we're done and you'll teach it to accept me." Red's eyes widened. "Oh yes, I hear it. The voice. So soft, as if so far away." He held the blade close to his ear as if listening. "It doesn't want me. It will." He turned the knife and held it at her belly, the point digging into her shirt. "You will tell me a great many things this night, little Red."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."She warned Asteus, staring into his eyes. He simply smiled and drove the dagger home. Red screamed even as she knew it wasn't a killing blow. He didn't want her dead yet, but in pain. She gasped, panting for air past the pain and smiled sadly at him. "I warned you." She gasped and choked out a short scream when he yanked the blade out.

Her blood covered the enchanted silver to the hilt and dripped down his hand. She fought for air and warned him. "The Night Mother forbade...a contract on my life. You knew."

Asteus laughed and peered closely into her eyes. "She will never know. The assassins that hunt you at my request are Morag Tong. Hired thugs but talented all the same." He showed her the blade. "They'll be more of your blood here before I'm done."

"No." She said, so softly he had to lean in to hear her. "There wont." Asteus looked confused, not understanding how she could think she had any hope.

"You're friends are all off on their own little quest I believe." He laughed at her again. "You are all alone, little Red. No one to come to your rescue."

"You're wrong." She said, and now did cry. "You called her. My blood...on the blade." She shifted her eyes to look over his shoulder. In nearly slow motion, Asteus turned and in shock, stepped back into Red's body. She cried out when his elbow rammed the open wound in her belly. Beyond them, just outside the firelight, stood the vision of the Night Mother.

Asteus all but fell to his knees before her. The dagger forgotten in his hand, he stared in horror.

"With true daughters' blood on the Night Mother's blade have you called me." Her voice was ethereal and terrible. Even the fire hadn't the will to crackle in her presence. "Asteus Leonde." and her horrible countenance focused on his face. "You have broken my law. No hand of our family was ever to be raised against this one. So I decreed. Yet, here you are, her blood on your hands and now I must mete out the punishment to you you would have sought for her."

"Night Mother no! She betrayed us!" Asteus begged, pleading for understanding. The apparition shook her head sadly.

"No. Asteus. You betrayed us. It was you who led the hunters to the Sanctuary. You whose skills were less than required." She looked sadly down at him. "A blade once damaged may be stronger when re-forged and so our Dread Father and I hoped it would be with you. Alas, it is not so and you shall be with our Dread Father soon."

Asteus gasped in shock when the dagger was stripped from his hand and again when Red, now freed from her shackles, sank the blade deeply into him. No weak blow this but one for death. "I've learned many things in my time away as a thief. No manacles can hold me for long. One mistake among so many." She whispered in his ear.

He fell forward, dead, into the leaf mold, the Night Mother's name on his lips.

"Child of Sithis." The Night Mother spoke to Red. "My vow to you is kept.Our debt repaid. The blade forged for your blood is yours, so long as you live. I will not come again." She began to fade away and Red felt drained as the spirit vanished completely. She fell to her knees beside Asteus' body. She'd tried for so long to escape her past and here it was, at her feet. Her wound bled fiercely and she hadn't the energy to begin healing it. She sat there, kneeling in the grass with the dread blade in her hand and wished now for one of the friends she'd left behind. She knew she was soon to sleep, whether she wanted or not, as she knew there was still one more assassin in the woods somewhere and yet, she could not force herself to stir.

She chuckled softly to herself as her vision grayed. Here it ends, she thought. Alone, as I've always been. She took comfort knowing Williams' resurrection would not now be risked by her past interfering and wished for her seat by the fire and a good mug of meade.

She was weak with blood loss, drained from the effort of reviving old wounds and truths and the Night Mothers' presence and never felt the shadow at her back.

[WillieSea]

The nausea slowly receded and William's stomach settled. Was that a teleport spell the old crone had cast on him? Where ever he was, it was dark. He was standing on a wood floor that creaked slightly under his weight. Something was vaguely familiar about his surroundings. Reaching out, he touched a bed, and to the left, was a dresser. It was his room in the tavern!

Moving towards the darkened shutters, he opened one to let some light in. William then quickly moved to his secret vault and retrieved the potion and re-closed the vault. Then William's vision blurred and nausea overtook him again.

Opening his eyes, he was back at the rock spire. The witch was eagerly looking at him and rubbing her hands together. She cackled and hopped on her feet, Gives it to me, gives it to me, I know ye have it On the last question, she clapped her hands together, Gives it to me, yeessss?

William handed the potion to the witch who very carefully took the pro-offered bottle and examined it closely. This be it? This be it? Yeessss? William nodded his head and stated, Be very careful with that, one drop can remove two decades of times aging from you.

The witch, upon hearing this, looked sharply at William for a moment, I knows, I knows, it was promised to me many years ago, many years. Set the wheels in motion he did, set em in motion, yeessss he did. Now I have what's promised to me, I have.

She uncorked the bottle and upended the flask into her mouth. Startled, William rushed to pull the potion bottle away but time seemed to slow down around the witch, and William was stuck in slow motion while the witch finished the entire bottles contents.

It was a few moments in time that seemed like an eternity as the witch slowly became younger, and more beautiful. When time finally returned to normal, William had rushed upon a very beautiful young woman, a woman who was falling to the ground. He put his arms under her to stop her fall and then she slumped against him. William was uncertain what to do next, as he had never been this close to another person. Being raised in a monastery, then as a wizard's apprentice, and finally an assassin did not leave much time for personal relationships, especially of the feminine persuasion.

William stood there, stone still. The transformation of the witch was wondrous, as well as the surroundings. The shack and spire became a sun-tent atop an ivory tower with the sun glinting off the white marble stonework. The witch became an enchanting lady with wavy golden blonde hair. William could smell flower blossoms in her hair, which flowed down her back. She was now wearing a thin, long silk robe of light blue, and he could feel her press against him.

Finally reaching a decision, William lifted the unconscious lady and carried her to one of the lounge chairs that dotted the tower top. She was light and easy to carry, and very beautiful. But he needed the memory stone, so he would have to wait until she awoke.

He understood the overwhelming power of the waters of time. The one drop that hit him had left him woozy for a short while. What would drinking a whole bottle of it do to a person? Either the waters had lost some of their potency, or the witch had been older than he thought possible.

A raven caw brought William out of his day dream as he watched the reclined beauty before him. Startled, he looked around and saw a rather large black bird perched on the railing of the tower. Its head was cocked to the side with one large black eye looking back at him. There was a deep blackness to the eye of a nothing so great it could swallow up the entire world.

The raven cawed again and launched from its perch and flew directly at William. Jumping back out of the birds flight path, William fell into nothingness. He was in the void, the blackness surrounded him and he fell, and fell into the darkness. He was like a stone thrown off the edge of a cliff. Was this the end of his journey?

A light glimmered far above him, around him lights twinkled and came closer. Each little light was a scene from his life, of good times with friends, of bad times with enemies. One scene showed him singing songs around a warm hearth as it snowed outside with his family when he was younger. Another scene showed the kindly monks teaching him knowledge. Another showed the kindly, yet senile wizard rescuing him as a young boy from a freezing death in a blizzard. Yet another showed him being assigned the Hand of a dark brotherhood guild hall by the Night Mother herself. The memories of his life surrounded him with light, and the brightest light of all came from images of his new friends. They were not his memories, but were scenes of his friends as they lived now.

Suddenly, the witch who was no longer a witch, but a beautiful sorceress came into view. I am Amber, my dear William. I thank you for your gift of the waters of time. When the gods cursed me to be an ugly old witch in that shack for my vanity, I was told a brave man on a quest would be my only salvation. But he would only come when I had proven to have learned a lesson about pride. So many years I cursed the gods for what they had done to me, and finally, broken and without hope, I called out to the gods to let me die. I have been here for thousands of years, cloaked to all, and unknown to the world. But you saw me, and claimed to have been sent by the gods themselves. I knew you had to be the one that would bring the promised potion of life to me. But I dared not hope too much, as I had been tricked many times in the past for my unrepentant heart. I see your life play out before you in these images, and I see a darker past, but the promise of a brighter future. I see the torment and suffering you have endured, and the anguish of your families spirits calling to you. You are truly a good man, and I see where I can help you.

Leaning forward, she kissed William lightly on the forehead, and then the lips. The memories burned into William heart, the euphoria of the moment brightened the dark place, and Amber was gone. The light still shown brightly around him, it emanated from him. The light beams radiated off his body and as each beam touched a sparkling vision, a memory, it was absorbed by the light, which was in turn absorbed by William.

Soon, only a few sparkles were left. One was of Shamus riding a horse hard through a forest. Another showed Vereta sitting in a tavern, drinking and reading a book. And there was Rider, walking through a castle, looking around. And then there was Red, lying upon the leafy ground, with blood spilling from her belly.

Once again time slowed to a snails pace, William cried out and lunged at the sparkling image of Red. He had to help her; he had to get to her! But no matter how he tried, he could not get closer to the image. William Screamed out in pain and sorrow, his friend was dieing before his eyes and he could do nothing about it!

A soft female voice surrounded him, it was Amber. Use your memories to guide you, use your memories and the voice faded into the void.

William remembered the soft kiss, not passionate, but warm. He used that to help him move, to have the courage to change, to persist in the void, to finally have hope for tomorrow. Slowly at first, the image came closer, then, suddenly, it rushed at William, it surrounded and enveloped him, and then William was standing in the forest next to Red.

Without thinking about the impossibility of the situation, William quickly took Red in his arms and sat her head on his lap. Pulling out one of his strong potions of healing, he poured some of it on Reds wound and watched it sizzle. A slight gasp escaped Reds mouth as the potion did its work. William consoled Red, It will be all right, it will be all right Tears freely coursed from his eyes and wetted Reds hair. He then sang a song he had long forgotten from a time around a hearth from so long ago, a time of happiness and warmth from loved ones.

When the bleeding finally stopped, William lifted Reds head some more and coaxed her to drink from the bottle. He made her drink the entire contents. Finally, as Red lay sleeping, William sang some more, in a mesmerizing voice that lightly echoed through the woods.

An assassin came into the clearing and looked down at the dead Asteus Leonde, the unconscious Red, and another unknown man. William looked up at him, and the memories of the void filled his eyes. The assassin was rooted to the spot in utter terror and fear! His worst nightmares were reflected in William's eyes as he looked down on him. Finally able to break free from the gaze, he dropped his weapons and ran for his life from that clearing in the woods, never to be seen again to that part of the world.

William's eyes smoothed and warmed as he looked down at Red again, he stroked her hair ever so softly. I am here Red, you will be okay, I promise

[DarkRider]

The halls of Castle Crownmora were silent as the Rider made his way through the open halls overlooking the courtyard. He was pleased to see that at this waning our, there were no guards posted along the balcony. The ranger stopped for a moment and leaned on the railing looking out at the open yard. He spotted Echo across the way, dodging patrols as he made his way around the perimeter scouting guard posts. Grond would be nearby as well; the big Nord had wanted to familiarize himself with the most likely path to the dungeons where William's body would be taken for post-battle evisceration.

Rider stared at the courtyard, in his mind's eye he could see himself and William meeting in the yard below. Grond, Shamus, and Echo would need to disable the patrols; in the aftermath all would assume WillieSea had been behind it all. It was a grand performance they would put on and at the end of it he would send his friend into the unknown to face the devil himself. Rider realized he was clenching his hands on the rail and his teeth so hard his jaw was aching. He moved away from the rail and head down the balcony hall toward the stairs.

He had been so uncertain of taking William's life before and now, he had made it sound so simple when they were hashing out the details of the plan. Certainty was a luxury, he knew that this task had to be done and the gods themselves had ordained it by his hand. As he walked he rolled the ring William had given him around his finger. He would not need its powers the way William had intended, but the token of their friendship would give him the strength to follow through.

The former assassin's words echoed in his mind, Rider, I fear these upcoming events more than anything in my entire life. Ever since roaming marauders murdered my family when I was but a child I have feared death. I joined the Dark Brotherhood to get closer to death in the hopes that I could avoid it. But, it seems to have finally found me?

If it were in his power, he would lay down his own life gladly to steel William's heart against this fear, but the ranger knew such things must be faced head on to be conquered. With luck, William would slay more than one demon in the afterlife. If only there were some way that he might help his friend.

Echo met him at the bottom of the stairs, Two guards posted at the East and two more at the North gate. There are four patrols at any given time each being relieved on march so there is never a window open, he reported quickly.

"How long between shifts," Rider asked.

"I've been watching them all day like you said," Echo answered, "Looks like they alternate patrols every four hours, so whatever point during that four hours we take out the guard, that's all the time you guys have left."

"Plenty of time," Grond's voice added as the Big Nord appeared behind them. He could be amazingly quiet when it suited him, "Looks like a pretty straight forward layout to the dungeons, there's a back pass we'll be able to escape through once we have William, they use it to carry out the dead. This gave me an idea. There are a couple curs down there who haul the bodies out. If a couple of us took them down and donned their cloaks, I reckon we could just carry William out of there. Someone can be waiting outside with the dead card and we'll just lob him on top. No one will be the wiser; it'll just look like a mix up of the orders."

"Sounds good, let's head back to the tavern and meet the others," Rider said evenly, "It'll be nearly dark by the time we get there and William is due to die this night. Come on."

[WillieSea]

A short time passed, and the midnight hour was approaching. Red stirred in her slumber, and then opened her eyes to see William looking down at her.

Realizing where she was laying, she bolted upright and spun around to face William. What How was all she could say.

William said softly, The last assassin has been dealt with. Is your wound healed enough to ride?

Red quickly moved her hand to her stomach and felt the hole in her leather jerkin, and touched the healed flesh where a gash had been. Even though she knew she had lost a lot of blood, her head was not dizzy and she did not feel weak.

There was something different about William. He seemed calm, almost serene, even though he was going to die this night! His eyes looked different. They had always been his most attractive feature, but now they almost radiated a soothing calm on her. She just nodded her head, not knowing what to say.

William stood up and summoned his demon horse, which appeared in a puff of purple smoke. Offering a hand to Red, he helped her up off the ground. He then smoothly mounted the horse and offered his hand to Red again. Up onto the horse she went, right behind William.

It was then that she noticed her coin purse was heavier than it had been. Looking down and feeling it, William simply stated, I took the liberty of removing the trinkets from the dead assassin there. It's yours, since you made the kill.

The two then rode off into the night, back to the tavern and their waiting friends. It was the fastest ride Red had ever been on, a demon horse at full speed. The two friends remained silent the entire ride back. Red marveled at the speed of the horse, and how silent it was. The usual jolting motion a normal horse made were almost non-existent on this beast. It was almost as if the horse was flying, rather than galloping.

The tavern lights soon came into view, and then they were in the tavern yard. William dismounted and helped Red down. Even though she did not need the help, she allowed William to be a gentleman; after all, he would be dead this night.

As the two headed for the tavern entrance, William simply stated, I believe all the preparations are completed. I wish you well Red. And then he strode into the tavern.

As William entered the tavern, the room suddenly became silent, and all heads turned to look at him. The barkeep poured a frothy mug of root beer as William walked over to Riders table and sat down. The mug was placed and the two were left some privacy to talk over the events that would be occurring this night. Later, the whole group would meet to discuss what Rider and William had planned.

For some of them, it would be a very long night indeed.

[WhoGuru]

Red watched William and Rider conferring somberly and then noticed others were staring at her. Looking down, she realized the front of her clothes was a mass of her own blood. She stared hypnotized at it for a moment. There was so much and yet here she stood, alive and her past, she hoped, finally in the past. Pulling her eyes away she looked up to find William watching her. His eyes were full of compassion and oddly, understanding. He gave her a sad smile and turned his face back to the Rider.

Vereta was at her elbow then, eying the blood and then taking hold of the front of her shirt where the hole was. "Are you alright?" He asked, concerned. Lifting the shirt he found newly healed pink skin where the wound used to be. Red took her shirt back and smiled vaguely at Vereta.

"I'm fine. I'm okay." She couldn't help returning to that clearing in her mind. Dropping her hand, she touched the hilt of the Dread blade and silently thanked no one in particular for sending William to her. "I have to go clean up." She said softly and made her way outside in a daze.

In the stables, she found Savior, happily munching away at a bale of hay. Going to him, she leaned heavily against his side and simply listened to him breathe. She had thought her life was done in that clearing, was not even terribly upset at the thought. Only at the thought of dying alone. Waking to find William holding her and her wounds healed...had been a shock. One she was still trying to deal with.

Where William sought penance and a return to grace, she had never entertained that luxury. There was too much blood on her hands, blood once joyfully spilled in Sithis' name. It was all she had known, though that was a poor excuse for the evils she had committed. She stood back from Savior and choked on a sob. Her hands were indeed covered in blood and had left red prints on Saviors' flank.

She went to the water barrel in the corner and roughly began scrubbing the stuff from her skin. In her mind, the stains remained. She cried as she washed. Savior kept nudging his head into her back and finally she took a rag from the wall, soaked it in the now pink water and set to scrubbing her blood from his hair. The tears would not stop. Shed for parents she had never known, assassins both and dead soon after her birth though none would say how, for those who had sold her to the Brotherhood and Sithis' service as an infant, for all the lives she had once taken. She'd spent the intervening years after being released living as a thief. They had a code of honor she could live by and her tainted soul did not bother them. She left cruelty behind and tried to live with honor, never killing but to save her own life.

But in that clearing, all her hard won promises had fled her. The old ways had returned and she had assassinated Asteus in cold blood. There'd been no fair fight. She wondered if she would ever truly be free of it and cried for that fear as well.

"Red." The Rider's voice startled her. She dropped the rag and hastily turned her face away.

"Everything ready?" She asked quietly, trying to mask the sound of tears in her voice. She heard him come closer and prayed he would leave before seeing her so weak. He did not.

In truth, Rider felt a kinship for the thief, almost for that of a sibling. He looked on her as a sister and, seeing her face when she'd left the Tavern, knew something was wrong beyond the incredible stains of blood. William had taken hold of his arm as he rose and spoke softly. Red was once an assassin, like him, he'd said. Though he did not know exactly what happened in that clearing, he knew it had been bad and had nearly taken her life.

Rider was not surprised. So many things about her and her style of fighting did not say thief. They spoke of darker things. William only confirmed what he already knew. So he went to her, this adoptive sister and found her crying though she tried to hide it.

"You should be with William." She said hoarsely. She picked the rag back up and went after the stains again, smearing rather than cleaning. Savior was beginning to not enjoy her ministrations and huffed at her.

"Red." Rider put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened beneath it and was fairly shaking with emotion. "I do not know what happened to you in that clearing, nor does William, but know this. You are not alone. I know you were an assassin." He said suddenly. She stiffened, as if waiting for a blow. "I do not care, nor does any who knows you. You are not that person anymore."

Red stared at the stains she was uselessly smearing across Saviors' coat. Never in her life had she turned to another living being for comfort. Had never wanted to and had all but attacked those who would have given it to her. Perhaps that was where she failed. Holding herself so much apart she could never truly escape what she had been. She decided to change. There, in the stall, with a friends' hand on her shoulder, she took the first step and turned to Rider.

He gathered her in without a word and simply held her. It took minutes for her to relax in his arms, so alien was the concept. Finally, by inches, she let herself be held and cried once more. Now not for that which was lost but for what she had found. Friends and a new family to help her learn how to be a good person.

[DarkRider]

"I'm sorry," Red mumbled into the fold of the ranger's longcoat.

Rider didn't press her, but plied his charm instead, "S'all right, he replied with a roguish grin she couldn't see, I don't have to die now do I?"

Red couldn't help but laugh, their relationship had been founded on a tenuous peace between their blades, and Rider had been close to hers more than once before. His joke made her realize the depth of his honesty; he truly held nothing against her.

Their peaceful tableau, the silence of their moment was suddenly interrupted by a throat clearing Ahem. They turned, Red withdrawing away from the ranger, to see their friends all gathered in the doorway of the stable. The exp​ressions varied from William's understanding nod, to Echo's mouth hanging agape. Grond pressed on, "So, what's the plan then?"

Rider quickly outlined the last details of the plan. They would travel to Castle Crownmora in three groups, and William would find his own way when he was ready to strike. Rider would go to the castle with Echo and position himself to confront WillieSea when the assassin arrived. Echo would be ready to sound the alert to the interior guards just as Rider would strike WillieSea down; they needed witnesses from the Duke's house. Shamus and Grond would travel by wagon to the death gate and enter the dungeon levels to prepare to steal William's body when it was over. Red and Vereta were left to disable the guard patrols and make sure no one intervened in the battle.

Shamus handed the soul sword to Rider, "She's all yours now, good luck my friend," he added, before following Grond out to their wagon. Red and Vereta mounted their horses.

"We'll see you there," Vereta bid the others farewell as he and the lady thief spurred their horses into the night.

"I need to change into the proper attire," William said evenly, "Then I will see you there."

"You will," Rider said in a tone that swore a vow to fulfill this design, "At the hour, I'll watch for you in the moonlight."

"You will see me," Will promised, before turning on his heels and heading outside. Legion nodded his head anxiously as Rider moved closer to him. The big warhorse was ready to ride. Echo mounted up on his own horse and the two rode into the night a few clicks behind their friends. They would fall into place like pieces on a chessboard, waiting to culminate into one pivotal moment.

When Rider and Echo arrived at the North gate there was no sign of their comrades anywhere, and the ranger noted, no sign of the North gate guards either. They tethered their horses away from the view of the road and walked into the castle. The whole place was eerily quiet.

"Okay, Echo," Rider said in a tone just above a whisper, "head to your place on the balcony and stay out of sight until you're on."

Echo nodded, "Got it, I can do this; easy you'll see," he said steadily, "Good luck, Rider. "

Echo skirted off into the shadows and the ranger only caught a glimpse of him as he darted up the stairs to the balcony halls.

The ranger sat in the shadows in stillness waiting for the assassin WillieSea to appear from the looming mists. He tugged at his gloves to make sure they were taut and wouldn't slip on the handle of the soul sword during battle. This would be one of the hardest battles in his lifetime; he had never brought a friend to death before by his own hand. Again he found his thoughts drifting to the challenge William would face after death; if only there was a way he could aid his friend in that dark trial ahead. Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his attention. A shadow was moving along the perimeter across the courtyard. The figure stepped slightly into the moonlight and Rider confirmed it was the assassin; the moment had arrived. Rider drew the tanto from his boot and deftly threw it across the courtyard, clipping the assassin's cloak. The ranger moved into the light.

"So, you thought you'd take out your enemy in the night like a fiend, eh cur," Rider goaded, "Come to me assassin, it's time to meet your dread father."

William's skin nearly crawled at Rider's words; he had come so far from that title from that dark allegiance, so far in fact, that the dread father would meet his end by the hand of a former son. Regardless, there was a play to perform, and William allowed himself to be goaded into the fight. A lamp came to life in one of the houses nearby. The peasant folk were being roused from sleep already.

William drew his blade and the two met blade to blade in the center of the courtyard with a clash of metal and sparks. Rider immediately pulled out of the lock and swung his blade around for the assassin's head. Like a fiend William dove under the strike and cut upward, his blade nicking the ranger's side. Rider was unfazed by the graze and swung around nearly cleaving the assassin's skull before WillieSea use a low sweep to knock the Rider's feet out from under him. Both men scrambled up off the ground. They were aware of eyes on them now, only citizens staring anxiously from their windows and doorways. The two combatants clashed blades once more struggling against their training, against their passion to draw the combat out dramatically.

WillieSea cast a spell that sent the ranger staggering backward, long enough for the assassin to draw a smaller knife and throw it at his opponent like a striking viper. Rider deftly cut the knife from the air with his blade and brought his blade back around to block the fearsome strike the assassin followed with. The men exchanged blows like bitter enemies, each guarding, blocking, and striking in quick succession. They need to carry on long enough that everyone was positioned perfectly. The fight had gone on for several minutes, they were breathing heavily from the exertion. In the briefest of moments, Rider caught a subtle glint it the assassin's eye, he was ready. The air was thick with mist, dust, sweat and blood. Each had managed to fight with a vigor that would leave its authenticity beyond contestation. Rider swung his katana through as if to slice his opponent from navel to nose, but WillieSea rocked back slightly, clearing the strike, and countered by plunging his blade into Rider's side. The ranger's side ignited in fire as the pain bloomed, but he didn't hesitate. Already primed in his other hand, Rider drove the soul sword into WillieSea's heart.

The assassin's blade dropped from his hand, and the ranger dropped his katana to put all of his strength behind the soul sword's strike. William's mouth was agape, a small trail of blood appeared from the corner of his mouth. Rider grabbed the back of William's neck and drove the sword deeper into his heart up to its hilt. For a moment they were frozen. The assassin's breath drew sharper, shorter, he would soon pass into the world of the dead.

Suddenly, Rider knew how he could help his friend in the battle to come. He leaned close to William's ear as he lowered him to the ground and whispered, "William, remember these words 'Amroth Deis Amenerot' and you will have the strength you need."

He looked down to see William clutching something in his hand. He quickly slipped it into his own pocket for safe keeping. He waited, feeling the sword begin to ebb and tremor in his hand as it drew William's soul away from his body. From the balcony level he could hear Echo's voice calling to the interior guards.

The Dark Rider has slain WillieSea! Echo shouted enthusiastically, The assassin is dead! He came here to murder the Duke, and the Dark Rider struck him down!

Some people began to cheer or applaud; the interior guards quickly appeared on the balcony even as Echo slipped away. Rider waited until the sword stopped trembling before he withdrew the blade. It felt heavier somehow.

The interior guards hurried down to the courtyard and gathered around him. One of them clapped him on the shoulder proudly, while their Captain checked WillieSea's body for life.

"Nah, the bloke is dead," he reported dryly, "Take his filthy carcass down to the dungeons," he ordered. Two of the other guards grabbed the assassin's wrists and drug his corpse off to the dungeon level. The others began barking at the peasants to go back into their homes. Rider began to slip away, but the guard Captain caught his sleeve, "Hang on, don't you want to see the Duke for your reward?"

"I'm wounded sir, tell your master I'm taking my leave to see a healer, I will come to him in four days time," Rider said coolly. The blood seeping through his fingers at his side was enough to quell any further arguments. Rider slipped away and found Vereta and Red waiting in the shadows near the gate.

"Are you okay?" the mage asked, concern etched his young features.

"I'm fine," the ranger replied, handing Vereta the soul sword, "Take this. You two ride for the shrine as planned. I'll find the others and we'll meet you there."

Red and Vereta took the soul sword and mounted their horses. Rider grimaced, the pain in his side was subsiding now, but he could still feel the toll of the battle weighing on him. He headed to where he'd left Legion and rode for the death gate. Hopefully, Shamus and Grond were in position inside, and would retrieve the body without any hitches.

[WhoGuru]

Red and Vereta rode hard away from the castle. Vereta carried the Soul Sword clutched to his chest, as if feeling for the beat of William's soul. Red had slipped within the gates, V at her heels, to watch the fight. At the last, even knowing the plan, only Vereta's steel grip on her arm had stopped her from rushing in to stop them. She'd watched William die.

They would not fail. She told herself this, repeating it over and over like a talisman against the dark. William would best Sithis and in three days time be returned to them. She kept the image of his face in the clearing, when she'd woke from her wounds, in her mind's eye, a marker to lead her on her way.

Like Red, Vereta was closed with his own thoughts. That the whole thing skirted the edge of Necromancy was uncomfortable for him. He would not balk at whatever had to be done but he was worried he might not recover from the damage it was doing to his heart. He despised Necromancy in any form. It had once stolen someone special to him and he never forgot.

He pushed those unhappy thoughts to the back of his mind. William's life depended on his ability to carry through with this and he would. Whatever the outcome. He looked at Red where she rode beside him. Her clothes had been changed, now free of blood, and he wondered what had befallen her while she was gone. He noticed her hand often straying to the dagger strapped to her leg, lightly touching it as if making sure it was still there, a frown on her face.

She shook her head as he watched and suddenly pulled her spotted horse to a stop. "Vereta." She whispered just loudly enough for him to hear. He kneed his mount next to hers and she leaned over. "I saw something in the trees up ahead. Stay here. Guard the sword." She slid off Savior's back and looked to him. He nodded and readied a spell to come to her aid.

Red vanished off the side of the road and into the treeline. For long moments, Vereta waited tensely. His hands clenched, prepared to fire off a volley at the first sign of trouble. With a cry, Red came pelting out of the trees fifty yards ahead, running flat out for Vereta. He saw nothing behind her but she was calling to him to be ready. Just then, an aura surrounded her and she stumbled, rolling to the ground. Behind her, a golden mist appeared, swirling and sparkling. Vereta gasped. A Will-o-the-Wisp! No wonder she had run.

Vereta stood in his stirrups. "Stay down!" He called out and threw his hands forward, spilling a massive bolt of lightning into the creature. It wavered and vanished before the blow. Red struggled to her knees and then dropped again. The creature rematerialized above her now, determined to have it's prey. Vereta heard Red scream something at him, saw her dagger flash up and glance off something solid in the center of the Will-o-the-Wisp.

He readied another bolt and let loose, hoping Red would avoid the worst of it. This time he took the creature dead on in the weak spot she had shown him. It crumbled, the mist dissipating and Red was showered in glowing shards.

Vereta climbed down off his horse and went to her. "Thank you." She gasped. "Whatever it hit me with, I couldn't move." She struggled to her feet again, as if she was numb and Vereta helped her stand. He checked her over carefully and found she was unharmed but for the serious drain of energy.

"Hold on." Vereta said as Red began walking slowly back to their horses. He bent to the ground and carefully gathered up the Glow Dust. "Never know when this may come in handy." He stored it in his pouch and went back to the horses. He had to help Red get astride Savior. Her legs were not yet cooperating. They set off once again and Red thanked him again.

'You saved my life." She said. "And not for the first time." She reached across the space between them and clasped his shoulder. "We have two days to reach the Shrine. We'll make it in time." There was hope in her face now and Vereta drew some of that hope to himself.

"We will make it." He replied, nodding. Together they set off again. Hours later, Vereta had to badger Red into stopping for the night. It was near dawn, the horses were tired and they would never reach their goal and be of any use if they did not sleep.

"Alright!" Red threw her hands up in defeat. "You win. We need sleep." She laughed, faint lines of fatigue sat round her eyes from her experience with the Will-o-the-Wisp and perhaps more. "Go on, Savior." Red said, leaning over to speak to her horse. "Find us a good spot for what's left of the night."Vereta was amused that she would ask a horse to find them a camp but to his surprise, Savior whuffled back at her and changed direction. He followed and soon, they found themselves in a protected glen of trees, soft moss lining the ground and a clear stream nearby.

Red thumped Savior affectionately on the neck and slid down, her legs buckled when they hit and only her hold on him kept her upright. "Damn." She muttered.

"You'll feel better after some sleep." Vereta said, smiling at her. "I'll brew up something for you that will help the after effects." Red nodded and wearily, with V's help, went about setting up their camp. Finally, sitting by the fire, Red stretched her legs and stared up at the stars. The moons had already set while Vereta set a potion to warming over the fire.

"Red." Vereta looked sideways at her. "What happened when you left me in the Tavern?" It was bold of him to ask perhaps but they were friends and he felt that something had hurt her more than just physically. Red closed her eyes, not looking at anything he could see for a long time.

She opened her eyes finally and looked at him. "Why are you so afraid of Necromancy?" She returned in a kind, sad voice. Vereta's head jerked back as if struck and for a moment he could say nothing.

"I....I don't want to talk about it. I can't." He finally managed, stunned that she would even ask. Red smiled again.

"Neither can I. You understand?" She watched the emotions flit across his face and he finally looked a bit ashamed.

"I'm sorry." He offered and, not looking at her anymore, took his potion from the fire. "I shouldn't have asked." He dipped a finger in, tasting it and then handed it to Red.

"It's alright, V. Some things hurt too much to talk about." That sad look sat on her face again and again she touched the dagger. She drank the potion finally with a grimace and handed the flask back. "Why do these things always taste like Scamp skin?" She laughed, lightening the air between them.

"Go to sleep." Vereta smiled back, momentarily at peace with her and himself. "I'll take the first watch." Red nodded, too tired to argue and never knew Vereta had slipped a sleeping drought into the potion, just in case she'd wanted the first watch. She needed rest. She lay down by the fire and was unconscious before her head hit her pack. V smiled into the dark and settled himself to watch over her.

Vereta did keep the first watch, and the second. Finally, when dawn broke across the sky, Red stirred and woke. Seeing sunlight just beginning to spear through the trees she glowered at Vereta. "You were supposed to wake me." She said fiercely. He grinned at her and laid down beside the remains of the fire, unrepentant.

"You needed it." Was all he said and closed his eyes, stopping any further argument from her. With a half laugh at his audacity, she rose and went to the stream to freshen herself. A good splash of the cold water finished the job of waking her. She felt much better this morning, more secure in herself and ready for the trials ahead. Looking at her reflection in the water she startled herself. The suns rays had crested the trees and as she watched, she could see a flicker of fire appear deep within her eyes.

"What magick is this?" She breathed and watched the tiny flames dance for a moment before vanishing. She blinked at herself but they did not reappear. She remembered then what she had felt in the lava chamber when she'd taken the gem. She reached into her pack and pulled it free. Staring into it's depths she felt something move and quickly returned it to the darkness of her pack.

She glanced back at Vereta, almost wanting to wake him up and have him search for this gemstone in his many texts. The sight of the flames had unnerved her. She wondered what other changes she would see because of it's magick.

With troubled thoughts, she returned to the campsite to keep watch over Vereta's now softly snoring form. They had another day and a half to reach the Shrine and it seemed as though their journey there would not now be an easy one.

[grond]

The fat Orc sat on his filthy stool, sipping from a rusty flask. Most of the liquid ran down his soft chin. There came a hard tapping at the door. The fat Orc struggled to rise, coughing and hacking loudly. The tapping went on without pause. With a head swimming, the fat Orc opened the door. A tall figure stood at the entrance, hooded and cloaked.

"Bring out yer dead!" said the figure.

The cloaked man suddenly grabbed the fat Orc's head with both big hands and twisted sharply, snapping his thick neck. The figure dragged the dead Orc into a corner and propped him in a sitting position. A second figure, garbed similar to the first, came through the door and closed it quietly. The first figure said, "Drinking on duty. Tsk, tsk." The two figures walked casually but quietly up the dimlit hall.

Somewhere above, a slender Mage came running around the hallway corner. He ran headlong into three castle guards, two of whom slept in chairs. The guard took hold of the boy shook him roughly and said, "Ere now, boy! Where ye running at this hour?" The guard lifted the young man off his feet.

The two other guards woke, and laughed at the sight. "What 'ave we 'ere?" said one.

Suddenly the Mage glowed briefly in a silver light. The guard holding him grunted. He dropped the Mage, who landed on his feet, and cried, "Someone's been murdered! Come!"

With that, the young man turned and ran out of their sight, around the corner from which he'd come. The three guards drew their swords and gave chase. As they rounded the corner they saw the boy, who stood some feet farther down the hall, his arms together and stretched towards them. They ran on, eager to dispatch this trouble-making boy. Then from the lad's palms came a shimmering force, as if water flowed from his hands. The air before them blurred as they ran into the force and were thrust backwards with a violence that knocked them off their feet. They lay where they fell. The youth turned and ran in the other direction.

Atop the castle a leather clad archer walked along a narrow ledge. She looked down into the dark courtyard and yawned, rubbing her slanted eyes. She froze suddenly as she caught a glimpse of a flash of bright light from the courtyard hall. Squinting, she saw in the corner of her eye the blur of something - an animal? - flitting along the opposite side of the courtyard. The Bosmer had experience; something was happening down below. She was about to raise an alarm when a gloved hand covered her mouth and she was pulled away from the edge of the ledge. The figure, only a bit taller than the Bosmer, struck with a club under the guard's pointed ear. The guard went down, and the figure dragged the unconscious body away into the darkness. Then the figure climbed catlike to the roof, unseen in the moonlight.

Along the balcony, four guards sat at a table, quietly playing a game of cards. Confident in their numbers they did not notice two things. The first was the figure who stalked across the courtyard beneath them. The second came a bit later.

A figure wearing what appeared to be a Monk's cloak approached them, four tankards precariously held in his two hands. "Hello, friends," came a voice from beneath a dark hood. The guards did not look up, but grunted a greeting, to whom they thought was a pilgrim, or a member of the castle staff. "Tis a brisk night. You fellows playing cards?" They looked at the figure then, and he pulled the hood down, to reveal a smiling face. The monk circled their table. "I saw you up here. I very much appreciate the protection you all give us. I've brought drinks for you all." Laying down the flagons with a smile, the young man said, "Have yourselves a wonderful night now." Pulling the hood back over his head, the man continued his night stroll. The monk stopped at a place farther down the balcony and looked down into the courtyard, waving at the guards. Minutes later the second thing the guards did not notice - the sleeping potion in their drink - caused each of them to fall into a deep sleep. As they did so, Echo removed the brown robes. He saw the Rider approach William.

Red dispatched two more rooftop guards, then made her way down to the courtyard hall. She was thankful for the club she'd brought, for on this night, she did not want to kill. She met with Vereta.

"Got the upper guards," she breathed.

"Those down here are resting nicely," replied Vereta. They stood in the shadow together and watched as the Rider approached William.

Behind and below them, the two tall hooded men - Shamus and Grond - walked casually up the dirt hallway until it ended at a gate. Shamus picked the lock and they continued as if they were meant to be there. The dirt floor gave way to stone, and torches were set in sconces along the wall. They remembered the outline of the dungeon from the map they had seen, and from Grond's dim memory. Rats scurried out of their way as they turned this way and that, but there was no other life to be seen. They passed empty prison cells, and soon came to the door they knew led to the ground level of the Castle. Grond knocked loudly. They heard shuffling feet come to the door and as it opened Shamus tensed. Grond threw back his hood.

A very old Nord stood in the doorway, blade drawn. The old man's eyes were sharp with warning at first but when he saw the Nord's shaggy mane and big smile, after a moment, the light of recognition shone in them. "Ay there!" cried the oldster. "Grondie! Son of Skyrim! What in Oblivion brings you here again, to the ass end of Crownmora!" He sheathed his blade and the two clasped both forearms.

"Hail Elden - you're not dead, I see," replied Grond, entering as he said it. Shamus came behind, leaving the door open. "Life ain't been too nice to me - now I retrieve dead bodies from the arses of Castles."

The elder Nord laughed. "Being one of the dead would be a far sight better, Grondie! But we ain't got but one - the cook's assistant croaked three nights ago - choked on her own stew, Ill warrant. Come, I'll bring you to her." They followed the Nord up a stair and along another hallway. As the elder Nord threw open the door to the holding room, Shamus moved to the door at the end of the hall, which opened out on the courtyard. Grond took hold of the old man.

"Look here, old one," he said, calmly. "Look here, things are happening this night. Best you take to your chair again, and leave it be. You'll be spared, and all else in the Castle will live to see the morrow, save one only, and he be a stranger. The Duke is safe - no worries 'bout that. Safer still he'll be in an hour."

Elden the Nord did not protest. He remembered Grond's sincerity from a decade ago, when they'd known each other. "Fine lad," the elder Nord said. "Did'na think ye'd be a gravedigger. Not one such as you. Lock the doors on yer way out!" The old man toddled back down the hall.

So it was that they were on the ground floor of the castle, and in place, when they heard a voice cry - "The Dark Rider has slain WillieSea! The assassin is dead! He came here to murder the Duke, and the Dark Rider struck him down!"

It was Echo, and so far, the plan was succeeding.

Few footsteps were heard at first. Shamus muttered, "Most of the guards are probably lying on the floor somewhere - Red and the others will see to it." But soon there came sounds of feet running, of mild cheers, and of loud voices shouting orders. "Search the grounds!" came one. "See to the Duke!" came another. Cries of shock came to them - apparently, they found some surprises left by the friends of William - dead or unconscious guards. After a time, the sounds fell away. Calm returned.

But Grond and Shamus feared for the lives of their companions. Unable to quench his curiosity, Grond returned to the holding room. Picking up the body of the cook's assistant, he threw open the door to the courtyard. He saw near the center a small crowd gathered around a body. Standing at the balcony was the Duke. "Take that carcass down!" cried the Duke from above. "Set it on a pike at the entrance! And get me the Rider!"

They saw Grond and Shamus then and the body Grond carried. One of the men approached them. Before he could speak, Shamus exclaimed, "We've come in time! Where are the papers for this?" he gestured to the dead woman.

The guard replied, "O not now, I'll vouch for it, just take it away."

Grond said, "And that new one? What's to be done with that? Two for one? Go get that one" - Grond nodded to Shamus - "and let's be on our way."

Shamus moved as if perturbed by the order. But the guard stopped him. "We'll be taking him up on a pike - are you men deaf? The Duke wants him displayed outside. Now get that trash out of here."

Swallowing hard, Grond turned. They went back the way they'd come. Grond pitched the body back onto the table in the holding room and breathed a heavy sigh. "They'll be bringing the body this way," whispered Shamus. "We wait," replied Grond.

After only two or three minutes they heard sounds. Men came into the holding room, talking easily, carrying the dead form of Sir William. Others passed the holding room, speaking of the beauty of a thing one found, and arguing about who found it first.

As the men bearing William closed the door, they saw the body on the table. One of them said, "Now where are those" - but Grond and Shamus sprang from behind and silenced them quickly. Shamus had heard the voices. The guards had taken something off William, and they saw that William's Ring, and the Medallion - the Chain of Auriel - both were gone!

Shamus sprang out of the holding room. Grond hoisted William's body onto his back and stomped after him, in the direction of the dungeon. As he entered, Grond heard the sounds of battle. He was in the midst of setting William down and joining Shamus when the other appeared, holding in one hand the Ring, and in the other, the Medallion. Two things so desperately needed by their slain companion. Behind him strode Elden, bloodied blade in hand. "I hate a thief, even the thief of dead men's things." The elder Nord snorted into his sleeve. "Grondie, return some time and explain this night to me."

"Aye, that I will," replied Grond, and together, Shamus and Grond brought the body of Sir William out into the night and the next leg of its journey.

[WhoGuru]

Vereta woke with Red's hand on his shoulder. "Come, V. We need to be moving on." She stood and began packing their gear. Vereta rose stiffly, unused to sleeping on the ground, even with it's soft mossy covering. It took them bare minutes to clear their camp and in short order were back on the road and headed for the Shrine of Akatosh.

Red wondered how Grond and Shamus had fared spiriting away the body of Willie Sea. She would have given much to have been there to help. She owed him a rescue now but their task was just as important. If they failed to reach the Shrine with their artifacts, William was as good as gone and she wouldn't allow that.

She watched the road carefully, alert for any signs of trouble. Few travelers passed them this far into the bush. The road was sparse here, a bare covering of dirt and grassed over in places. Once, a Legionnaire rode past with a quick nod and appraising eye for Red. She glared at him until he was past. It didn't do to trust the soldiers this far from civilization. Their rules were often a bit more lax about what was acceptable and she'd been forced to defend her honor more than once.

Vereta watched the Imperial disappear round the curve behind them and breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't liked the look of the mans' hard face, nor the leer he'd aimed at Red as he passed. He turned back just in time to see an arrow thunk into Savior's hindquarter. The massive horse reared, screaming and Red was thrown to the ground. Stunned, Vereta was about to climb down and help when something large tackled him from the trees to his right and bore him to the road. The breath whooshed out of his lungs as he hit the ground.

Looking up, he found Red now on her feet and dueling a bandit who's longsword could not get past her dagger. She glanced over her shoulder briefly and, seeing the man atop Vereta, pulled a small knife from the small of her back and with deadly aim, threw it. It took him in the heart and he toppled off the mage. Red turned her attention back to the swordsman. He was furious now, having seen his partner layed dead and in a fury, threw attacks at Red. She dodged them quickly, backing away and then finally, when he over extended himself to reach her, she slipped inside his guard and her dread blade finished him off.

'You alright?" She called to Vereta, wiping her dagger on the mans jerkin. Vereta nodded, still relearning how to breathe. Red quickly went to Savior, calming him quickly. A tear sparkled in her eye as she surveyed the shaft of the arrow protruding from just behind the saddle. "Oh my friend, I have to take this out." She said softly to him. She used her

knife to cut the end off the shaft and threw it away angrily. "V." She looked to him. "I need you to steady him while I dig this out."

"Of course." Vereta pulled himself up, sore but unharmed and went to Savior's head. Pain rode in the steeds eyes as he watched Vereta come to him. He lowered his head to the Mage and seemed to take comfort as V wrapped his arms round his head.

"I'd kill him again for this." Red muttered and bent to the grim task of cutting the arrowhead from Savior's hide. He was a brave horse and barely danced beneath her as she worked. Finally, she had it and threw it to the ground with a curse. Blood oozed from the wound and she used her hand to stem the flow. "Search the bodies, V. See if they have anything useful on them like a potion of healing." She was gruff but V knew the temper was not for him.

He went to the brigands and searching them, found gold, recovered Red's throwing knife and then finally a weak potion of healing. "Use this." He passed it to Red and she quickly pulled the stopper with her teeth and carefully poured the contents on Savior's wound. He whinnied with relief as the mixture went to work healing it. Red then placed her hands above the wound and forced her own small healing magic within, aiding the potion, speeding its progress. She focused hard on controlling the small magick, it felt different somehow, warmer than she remembered and wanted to run away from her. A thread of fear worked into her thoughts, what was happening? Finally, the wound healed, she gently pulled the magick back. It resisted and she fought to stem the flow, finally succeeding and stumbling back from Savior with a gasp. That had never happened before. Savior was fine now, the wound completely healed and he nuzzled her shoulder in gratitude.

"Red?" Vereta said from behind her.

"He's fine now." She smiled, despite the odd feeling of her magick.

"Red." Vereta said more strongly, with a warning in his voice. She turned and found the Legionnaire from before riding up. He spent a tense minute looking over Red's handiwork on the road, then Vereta and finally settled on her.

"Everything alright here, Ma'am?" He asked, dismounting and striding towards them. Red felt a thread of warning in her gut and stepped closer to V.

"We're fine." she said in a steely voice. "Don't need any help. We'll be on our way now." She pulled Vereta back to her and gave him a push to his horse. The soldier smiled and kept coming to them.

"I see blood on you." He pointed to Red's hands. "Sure you're not injured?" He stopped a bare foot away, far too close for her comfort. She could not attack a soldier without provocation. Invading her personal space was not a reason to fight, but she felt like it was. She backed away from him and he sprang, not at her but at Vereta. With a quick, hard blow he stunned the Mage, sending him to the ground.

Red cried out and threw herself between them as the soldier drew a blade. He grabbed her, swinging Red into his body and held the knife at her throat, breathing hard in her ear. "I think I should make sure you're not hurt. Far too pretty to be wandering these back roads with a boy for company."

She felt the blade rest against her throat and swallowed the instant panic. She had to disable him somehow. Then, he screamed. Red looked down and saw Vereta had planted her own knife into the man's foot, impaling it to the road. Red used the moment of confusion, grabbing his knife hand she swung away from him and turned, putting the force of her body behind his own arm, she drove his own blade into him and rode him to the ground. He backhanded her off his chest and struggled to rise only once before falling still.

Vereta stared at his dead face for a moment. They had killed an Imperial Soldier. The shock flew through him but he knew they'd had no choice. Red lay on her side and rolled shakily to her back, then to her feet and over to Vereta. She dropped down next to him and felt along the back of his head. Her hand came away with blood. "Thank you, V." She said softly and seeing his face, smiled at him. "You had no choice. He'd have killed us both, eventually. They go wrong out here for too long sometimes." She replaced her hand on the back of Vereta's head and he felt warmth flowing through his skin, almost too warm, like being burned and then the sensation was gone along with the pain. Red swayed a moment as she dropped her hand. He reached out and steadied her and watched her eyes refocus on him.

"Sorry. Too much magick in too short a time." She said with a smile. "We need to go, before someone else stumbles across us." She rose and pulled V to his feet. A bruise was blossoming across the side of her face, virulent purple along her cheek where the soldier had hit her. He glanced one last time at the dead man, the remorse gone as he thought what this monster had planned to do.

With a nod, he remounted, checking to make sure the Soul Sword and Azura's Star were in place and fell in next to Red and Savior as they once again headed for the Shrine.

[DarkRider]

Shamus opened the death gate for Grond; glancing behind the big Nord to be sure they weren't being followed.

"What did you do with the other bodies?" Grond asked, shifting William's body slightly on his shoulder. Shamus flashed him a sly grin, "I left them outside for the real body haulers." Grond only grunted his approval.

The two friends emerged from the depths of the castle, the cool of the night air washed over them blowing off the stink of the dungeon level. Echo was standing in the back of the cart anxiously. Once they were clear of the castle, Shamus hurried to unhitch Sainmh'ni from the cart and moved Echo's brown mare into his place. His steed fairly danced in place as he saddled him quickly. Grond had managed to get William into the back of the cart unharmed and Echo arranged the body on the blankets they had waiting before covering him with a delicate shroud.

Sainmh'ni snorted loudly, and the horse's call was answered by a deep nickering grumble. Shamus looked over his shoulder quickly, his hand falling instantly on the hilt of his blade, but he relaxed when the Rider emerged from the shadows, with Legion following behind him.

"Were you seen taking the body?" the ranger asked quietly, reaching out to pat Sainmh'ni as he came close. Shamus shook his head, "Not by anyone who is alive to tell about it. You alright then?"

"Alright," Rider assured him with a nod.

The cart rocked as the Grond climbed into the driver's chair, and reached for the reins. Echo stepped up behind him, still in the back of the cart to watch over William's body. The young man set a hand on Grond's shoulder his eyes were darting madly searching the darkness, "Do you hear that?"

"Hmm?" Grond half grunted then listened hard. There was only silence in the night, save for the hushed voices of Rider and Shamus talking a few feet away, "I hear nothin'."

Echo nodded, shrinking down slightly, "I know. No wind, no night birds, no crickets, no frogs, nothing. No nothing." The younger man scanned the trees around them; was it growing darker?

"Something is wrong, something is very wrong."

Grond was not easily shaken, but the hollow fear he heard in Echo's voice unsettled him slightly, "Oi, you lot, we should get on the move," he said quietly as he could manage.

"I'm ready," Shamus said, tightening the slack in his saddle before mounting. Rider swung up onto Legion's back as well, but as he took the reins in his hand, Legion began to toss his head and grunt nervously. Sainmh'ni and the two cart horses began to shift as well; their ears were pricked high, their eyes wide, and their feet restless. Rider and Shamus took the cues from their horses and became alert, scanning the woods around them. It was getting darker, there was no light visible through the trees. An unholy black mist was snaking its way across the ground.

"By Stendarr," Grond exhaled, he tightened his grip on the reins, "What is it?"

"A message from the Dread Father," Shamus said grimly, struggling to keep his mount steady beneath him.

Rider's eye's narrowed, "Wraiths."

All around them the dark apparitions appeared from the shadows, gliding along on the black mists like silvery black serpents. They came as dark denizens to claim the body that belonged to the Dark Brotherhood's fallen son. There were dozens, more than they could fight reasonably, and protecting William had to be their priority.

"YAH!" Grond roared, snapping the reins in his hands. His horses needed little encouragement - their instincts were to flee from such creatures - but the Nord had a challenge in keeping them to the narrow cobbled road and the cart from flipping at such high speeds. Echo gripped the back of the driver's chair in one hand and kept his other hand on William. Somehow, this was not how he had imagined the journey. Rider and Shamus were close behind them and beyond them the wall of Wraiths and black mist was so thick, Castle Crownmora disappeared in the blackness.

Shamus was bent low over Sainmh'nis withers; he needed to keep the reins taut to stay between the cart and the impending enemies. He stole a glance over his shoulder. There were more wraiths than he had ever seen in one place before. It was a plague only Sithis himself could conjure and the black haunts were closing the distance between them quickly.

"We have to do something!" he called over to Rider.

The ranger glanced over at him, "What?"

Shamus gritted his teeth, "The cart is too slow, they're taking ground!" he half shouted, "We have to do something!"

"What do you suggest?!" Rider called back. The night air was filling with the growing roars of unearthly wailing behind them. In such great numbers the wraiths shrill cries were near deafening.

Shamus' thoughts raced, they need a way to break loose from the chase itself, There must be a place where the wraiths can't follow, a churchyard, a holy place, something. "You know the land, where can we go?"

The ranger glanced back over his shoulders, the wraiths were grasping wildly, and they were right on top of them shrieking devilishly. The sky ahead of them was beginning to lighten and Rider's eyes sharpened. The silver hour was beginning. Rider knew what need to be done, but would his friends understand the danger he was about to put them in. It was the lesser of two evils.

"Stay close to the cart!" Rider called to Shamus. The other man nodded and as Rider pulled Legion alongside the cart Shamus took the center position behind it. The ranger pushed his horse up alongside the cart. The big Nord was sweating; keeping the scared horses on the road and the ramshackle cart in one piece was no easy task.

"You'd better be ridin' up here to tell me you've got a plan, Ranger!" Grond shouted over the roar growing behind them.

"Stay close to me!" Rider shouted, "We ride for Feyan's Bridge! his eyes were piercing with urgency, Stay as close as you can and don't stop!"

"Sounds like a plan I'm not gonna like!"

"Trust me!" Rider said steadily, "Drive hard, we're running out of time!"

Rider stopped holding Legion back; he relaxed his reins, and leaned into his mount. The two moved as one and easily pulled ahead of the cart. The cart horses had a natural drive to follow a stallion and their instinct pulled more speed from their exhausted bodies as they fell into step behind Legion.

"YAH!" Grond snapped the reins again, "Come on me darlings! Run! Run! YAH!" he roared at the horses. The rickety cart creaked and bounced. Echo was hanging on for dear life, just praying he would survive the trip and wishing he had gone with Red instead. The ranger broke from the main road and led the cart down a narrow winding pass toward the old wooden bridge. Ahead he could see a silver glow; he could see the veil appearing in the center of the bridge.

"Elethain Corv Aratta viij Annon Sol," he whispered the chant under his breath, calling in the old magic to grant his friends safe passage into the veil. Silver light burst from the veil just as they approached.

Grond's eyes widened, but there was no time to slow, the ranger disappeared into the light and the Nord felt a strange warmth wash over him as he passed through it himself. Shamus kept close to the back of the cart and just as he felt the cool grip of the nearest wraith reaching his back, he passed through the veil into silence. The cart slowed in front of him and as they came to the other side of the bridge they finally stopped. The wraiths passed through them as if they were the phantoms, searching wildly for their quarry, but quickly gave up the hunt and dissipated. The friends looked at the world around them. Things appeared the same, but the world was grey, the water beneath the bridge was frozen in stillness, there was a breeze, but the trees were still, and all around them there was silence, save for the labored breathing of their hard ridden mounts.

Grond lowered his reins, but didn't move from the cart, "What kind of trickery is this, Rider?"

The ranger turned Legion to face them, "My ancestors called this the Veil of Snows. It's a gateway between our world, and the world of the dead. This is where you go when you die, and wait for your ancestors to take you into the next world."

"Are we dead?" Echo asked nervously.

"No, not dead," Shamus answered, "Somewhere n the middle - and we're not safe yet."

The ranger nodded, "Shamus is right. In the veil the anchor of divinity that binds your soul to your body grows weak. If you forget yourself, your soul will slip out of your body, and then you will be dead."

"I knew I wasn't gonna like this one, ya had a look about ya," Grond grumbled, "we're away from the wraiths now sure, but in danger of becoming one."

"Where do we go from here?" Shamus asked

"We just continue toward the shrine as planned. Tomorrow during the silver hour the veil will become thin again and we'll pass through to our world," Rider assured them.

Grond finally climbed down from the cart, "Sounds simpler than it will be I reckon. Let's get moving then, and walk the horses a bit to rest them."

The ranger nodded, "Agreed," he said evenly, "but be warned, my friends. Your ancestors and fallen loved ones may appear to you. You MUST NOT speak to them, or your soul will cross. Tread lightly, lest we stay longer than the day."

[WillieSea]

Memories, they fade so quickly, until you have nothing left, nothing

The extreme pain, the burden of a suddenly heavy body, the non-functioning vocal cords, the pain is the world, the whole of existance, its all that is left. Then the darkness comes, it envelops, and the weight of the world lifts from my shoulders, free of the mortal bonds, free to go towards the light, the light, so bright, where does it come from? I reach for the light, but something is pulling me away from the light! Something drags me down, it devours my soul! The horror! Trapped! Silence.

Time passes. Where is this place, where am I? Who am I? What am I?

Imprisoned in a long, thin, cell.

The darkness approaches again. It is a blackness like no other. There is no running, no hiding, no place to go, trapped in the cell.

Falling, falling, falling in the void.

Tendrils of nothing, blacker than the void reach for me. One touches me and a memory is snatched away, more pain, of loosing something dear, of becoming less, loosing ones self.

A desperate lunge, grasping for the lost, loosing it. The sparkling image of a young boy celebrating with family, laughing, playing, living. The void tendril wraps itself around the image and crushes it, tiny shards of it float outward and dissipate, becoming nothing. Lost. Gone. Sadness.

The tendril comes again. More can be detected, coming towards him. They feed on the images, the memories. They wanted more. Not they. The nothing wanted to make him nothing. Who am I?

My lips burn. Touching lips, remembering something, a memory comes forth, a beautiful woman kissing a man on an ivory tower. Was this mine? A slight realization of self. A light flared from William and burnt one of the tendrils. It withered away from William, but remained, testing.

Another tendril snatched a memory away, a man in black driving his knife into the heart of a man in a bed, an escape from a castle, guards in pursuit, the image shatters in the tendrils grip, gone, lost.

Another vision floated up to consciousness. Darkness, a castle courtyard, a black clad man sneaking in the shadow, illuminated in the moonlight for a moment. A confrontation. Another man attacks, fierce combat ensues, the second man is wounded, but the black clad man makes an opening to his heart, why? A blade, shimmering, laughs as it sinks into the black cloaked mans heart. It sings, it rejoices in the blood, the gore, the life! Entrapped! Words are spoken, a name is heard, what were they? Say the words. So difficult, so impossible to do.

The words break away from the memory and flit by his ear. I ****** it out of the air, the words are guided to my mouth, the words are spoken, 'Amroth Deis Amenerot'. A tendril plucks the courtyard image away and destroys it. Another lost.

A wave seems to emanate from me, like a rock thrown into a calm lake, they ripple outward, pushing the tendrils away momentarily. A light engulfs me, a shimmering sword is gripped tightly in my hand. The tendrils come quickly, the sword slashes at them, cuts them, they fall back and away.

Memories are lost, reading in a monastery, fetching ingredients in a frozen wasteland, another murder, a heart broken to love lost, so much lost, but so much remaining. Thrust, jab, slice, time passes and the tendrils finally leave, they go away.

Time passes, realization of self comes slowly. A few brave tendrils learn a lesson about the golden one and the sword that cuts deeply. More time passes.

William. I am William. I am William of Andrew's son. Andrew was my father. Sonja was my mother. Their death came unexpectedly. I am the boy who lived. I am me.

I AM!

William blossomed into a bright white light, illuminating the darkness, the void. The tendrils that remained withered at its brightness and warmth. The sword detached from William's hand, another one was here with him. The swordsman spoke to William, then nodded once and was gone, his task complete. What could the vision have meant? Who was I to tell?

William felt ground beneath him. There was a necklace around his neck. He did not recognize it. Perhaps it was a memory that was lost. Slowly, the black mists parted, and a world appeared around him. It was dark as night. There were several trails though the thick underbrush and trees. He wondered which trail to take. There was somewhere he needed to be, and he had a feeling he had to hurry.

[WhoGuru]

Red inched along the cavern wall, silent and lightheaded with pain. She gritted her teeth and followed the sounds of Goblin laughter. Somewhere ahead of her, she could hear at least two communicating in that guttural half language of theirs. She rounded a corner and spotted them. As she watched, one of the two departed heading up a tunnel on the far side. Red took a throwing knife from the sheathes at her waist and, with deadly precision, took the goblin in the back of the head. It fell forward dead and she moved quickly to the body, recovering the blade.

She paused a moment to catch her breath. She had taken more than a few good knocks on her way down the ravine, then in the water. Feeling along her chest, she thought perhaps she'd cracked a rib in the process. She once again played over that moment in her mind, wondering if she could have stopped it somehow.

They had been riding along a high ravine above a lonely, slow moving river. They had been reminiscing about happier times at the Tavern when they'd struck. Goblins had poured down the high side on their left, screaming and knives flashing. Red had ridden Savior into their midst and together they'd managed to hold them off for a moment, Vereta frantically throwing fireballs into their midst. Then, a goblin flew at Red through the air, careened into her and knocked her from the saddle. Together they both tumbled over the edge and the long, long drop to the water below.

The last thing she'd heard had been Vereta's frantic calls, and then the chill waters had swallowed her. Fighting her way to the surface, she was carried downstream and crashed into a submerged rock before reaching the shore. Alone, the goblin vanished beneath the waters, she fought for breath in a chest on fire and stared up the ravine wall.

She swallowed the pain and began the painstaking process of climbing back to the top. It had taken hours. She'd lost her hold a few times and once, blacked out when she simply couldn't get air and come to as she hit the water again. Upon reaching the top finally, she crawled into the brush on the other side, panting and exhausted. For a while she simply lay, trying to convince herself to move. Getting mad at herself, she fought to a sitting position and called her magic, trying to focus inward on herself. It did not come as she called, swirling through her for barely a second, it went away, her wounds unhealed and she yelled in frustration. A sound came to her then, the clomp of large hooves and she poked her head out of the bushes to see Savior, a little worse for wear, heading directly for her. She sobbed out a breath and crawled out to meet him. She used the reins hanging beside his head to pull herself up. He seemed to understand and pulled, helping her to her feet.

She simply wrapped her arms about his neck and held on for a while, content to borrow his warmth. Sighing, she moved to his side and, after several painful attempts, gained the saddle.

"Let's go find Vereta." She said to him and turned him back down the path. She'd searched for over and hour before finally finding the scene of the ambush. Neither Vereta nor his mount were anywhere in sight. Marks of the brief battle cluttered the ground and she searched the bodies of the fallen goblins. She found a single restorative potion and, opening the top and taking a sniff, was almost overcome with the smell. It was spoiled and worthless. She almost tossed it over the side and then, thinking it may come in handy as a poison, tucked it into her pouch.

She'd gone in search of them then, following the tracks left by the goblins and Vereta's mount up the high rise beside the road. At the top, she'd spied the entrance to a cavern of some sort, a rough wooden door slanted across it's entrance. She set Savior in the wood a fair distance away where she'd hoped he'd be safe and entered the cave in search of Goblins and a friend.

Not far inside, she found Vereta's mount tied in a pen against the wall. He was skittish, his eyes wheeling from the smells and it took her several painful minutes to calm him. His saddlebags were gone and she found V's bag, empty and nearly sobbed. The sword and the star were gone, somewhere else inside the cavern. Leaving the horse, she journeyed deeper in, dealing with the few goblins she came across, or avoiding them altogether. In her current state, she wasn't up to a open fight. Stealth was her friend.

Inching alone a cavern wall, silent and lightheaded with pain, she followed the sounds of Goblin laughter...

[WillieSea]

Memories cascaded over Williams consciousness. It was disconcerting to remember everything all at once. The good times, the bad times, the painful memories, the happy memories. Mostly, they were painful memories. A life without love, a life in the shadows, a life as an outcast, never belonging anywhere, never any true friends. A life devoted to revenge on those that took his Mother and Father, his happiness, his youth. The pain of listening to their spirits crying out for justice!

It was overwhelming; William sank to his knees in the rich loamy dirt. What was the use of trying, did it really matter? Did anybody even care?

A vision came to him, of the look Red gave him when she awoke on his lap in the dark forest not so long ago. Frightened, alone, searching, longing. William reached out to touch her cheek, and the vision vanished.

William reached up and touched the amulet around his neck. The medallion had a large tear shaped ruby centered in a Mithral base. The chain was made out of the same metal in a fine link.

Rubbing the stone, William looked at the multiple trails leading off into the night. Each seemed to follow a different winding path. each a different choice to make in life. Which choices would lead to death, and which would lead to a better life? The amulet started glowing slightly, unnoticed by the distracted and depressed William. Why bother, his friends had abandoned him in his time of need

Soon, the glow from the amulet caught William attention, which caused him to let go of it where it fell against his chest. His heart, long silent, pounded in his chest, causing the stone to burst forth a bright fire that lanced out from the jewel and enveloped one of the paths. Its fire enveloped the trail, but nothing was burnt. The trail glowed in the heavenly fires.

Inspired by the spectacle before him, William stood up and slowly walked towards the illuminated trail. As he got closer, his pace increased, faster and faster, until he was running through the forest following the illuminated trail. Paths lead off in all directions, but the glowing fire showed the true path, branching left and right.

Soon a clearing opened up at the trails end. Looking up, bright stars twinkled in the night sky. The constellation of the Assassin is clearly visible at the zenith. The blackness around the stars shifts, and then it consumes the stars, leaving only the Assassin, which brightens immensely. The blackness seems to struggle, but then it overcomes the assassin and there is nothing but the void in the sky. A black so black, that it seems to pull the light into itself and smother it. It then descends from the sky and falls onto the clearing, vaporizing everything around William.

Falling, falling through the void. The tendrils come at William again, but this time he remembers, he sees the smiling faces of his new friends, and a bright white light emanates from him, casting light into the darkness, banishing the void. The tendrils desperately try to envelop him in a mass of force, and he vanishes from sight. Only a churning blackness remains.

A vision, a friend, a life in peril, a savior. Kinship of duty, sharing of burdens, sacrificing yourself for others, of true friendship. Riders face comes into focus in the dark place. Long lost memories surface, they sparkle, they cast the shadows away, they brighten as those memories spark other memories. The darkness is pushed back by the light, the true light of friendship, an explosion of light bursts from William and the medallion, a memory returns, the Chain of Auriel, the light of God! Granting the ability to perceive, to help assist us in making the right choices so we no longer need to venture into the darkness of mis-guidance. William's shattered heart beats again. A heart that was broken when he was young, scorned when he grew, hardened as an adult, and finally cut open and spilled in his death by a friend.

The blackness surrounding William shatters, like a glass globe, the shards fall all around him, and he is standing on firm ground once more. On the horizon, a blood red sun is setting. Shades and Wraiths close in from behind William, their screeches and wails drowning out all other sounds. Sithis demands his son's return, and he would have him now!

[WhoGuru]

Vereta awoke in gloom. His arms and legs were numb and when he tried to move, found he'd been trussed like a sheep and left in a corner. He craned his head trying to get a better look at his surroundings and gasped. A raised dais dominated the center of the chamber he was in, blue flames danced in sconces on the pillars surrounding it. He couldn't see the roof of the cavern it was so far above. In the center of the dais, floating several inches above the floor a Lich toyed with a shining blade, sending sparks of blue light scattering on the cavern walls. The Soul Sword! Vereta was frantic, he pulled and struggled against his bonds, desperate to somehow retrieve the sword.

A pair of stubbly Goblin legs appeared beside him and Vereta stopped, waiting. The creature reached down, cutting the bonds on his feet and roughly hauled V to his feet. Propelling him before it, he was shoved up to the dais and onto the floor at the Lich's feet. The undead creature hissed at the Goblin which dropped to the floor with a whine and scurried swiftly from the chamber.

"Little onessss..." The goblin hissed words at Vereta and he stared in shock. "Such pretty thingssss you carry with you. Called to me they did." The Lich then reached to a small table behind it and picked up the Azura's Star, twirling it for Vereta. "Tellsss usss what they are for and perhapsss it livesss..."

Vereta was speechless, then shook his head at the monster. There was no way he would betray William like that. "No." Was all he said and found himself sailing backwards in a backlash of power. The creature had simply waved it's skeletal hand. The power was amazing. It pointed the sword at Vereta again and asked for the knowledge once more.

He was terrified. If he died here, William would never be able to come back. Where was Red? He wondered. He'd seen her pulled from Savior and fly over the edge and thought she surely must be dead. Then Savior had escaped the mob of Goblins with a scream. Tears fell from his eyes. There was no one to save him now and without his hands free, little he could do to help himself. The lich was once again toying with the sword, holding the star up to it's face, trying to determine their purpose. It glanced frequently at Vereta and hissed at him, frustrated. Without warning, the Lich was thrown to the floor, an arrow had appeared in it's back.

Vereta stared in shock as it struggled to rise, the sword and star forgotten on the floor. The Lich rose again, with a screeching wail it searched the cavern behind it for the source of the arrow. It still protruded from it's back and Vereta could see a fine, green mist flowing from the wound. Some kind of poison.

He fairly jumped when a hand clapped over his mouth, silencing him, then he felt a blade slice through his remaining bonds, freeing his hands. Turning his head, he found himself face to face with a very pale and very much alive Red. She placed a finger to her mouth and then slipped away from him into the darkness again. V was stunned. Somehow, she had survived the fall and come for him. He turned to look again at the Lich, howling at the darkness and the foe he could not see. Another arrow whistled through the air and took it in the head this time, slamming the foul creature into one of the pillars and spilling a blue flamed sconce to the floor.

Whatever was feeding the flames spread out across the dais, engulfing the Lich. Taking advantage of the diversion, Vereta raised his hands and sent a powerful wizards' fire burning into the creature. It screamed as it burned and three more arrows found their marks. It died finally and Red reappeared beside the dais.

Vereta ran to her and pointed into the blue flames. "The sword and Star were there! We have to get them out!" Though they were blue, the heat from them was all too real and intense. Red suddenly grinned and, handing her goblin bow to Vereta, stepped up to the dais and into the flames without hesitation. He gasped and watched as she strode into them, untouched. She bent down to search for the missing talismans and disappeared in flames. Moments later, she rose and returned to Vereta, the Sword and Star clutched in her hands.

"Guess it was telling the truth." She said breathlessly. "The voice that spoke to me when I took the orb." She handed both to Vereta and then pulled his bag from behind her back and handed that to him as well. "I found some of your books and stuff on a table up above. Shoved them back in. No potions I'm afraid, all taken somewhere else." She glanced back at the still burning flames. "Probably in there with my luck." She led Vereta away and towards the only opening into the chamber. He noticed she was walking stiffly, holding herself as still as possible when she moved.

"Red?" He asked and placed a hand on her back. She hissed a breath through her teeth and hunched over. Vereta hastily removed his hand and came away with faint pink stains from her shirt. "You're hurt." She nodded. "Let me look." He said. She shook her head.

"No time, we need to get out of here. I can't take a whole Goblin clan down myself." She laughed and then gasped in pain again. "Even I'm not that good." Vereta wasn't' taking no for an answer and took her arm gently.

"We're not going anywhere til I take a look. You're about to fall down." Concern rose his voice and she relented, moving away from the entry she carefully lowered herself til she was kneeling on the floor, head resting against the wall. "Why haven't you healed yourself?" He asked, gently raising her shirt to see her back. "Surely your Magicka's regenerated by now." He hissed as he revealed her back. It was a mass of purple bruises as if she'd been stepped on by something large.

"I tried." She gritted between her teeth. "It didn't work."

"Define 'didn't work' please." He was carefully removing grit from some of the deeper lacerations and knew he hurt her.

"I called my magic to heal myself and...it refused." She shrugged, then stopped breathing hard again. The movement had irritated the bruising. Vereta pondered this as he took a spare shirt thankfully still in the bag and ripped it in half.

"It has to have something to do with that crystal." He muttered and told Red to lift her arms. She did, slowly and he began the process of wrapping her ribs, wincing with each grunt of pain he caused. "I'm sorry." He said softly. "I used everything I had to kill that thing. I've nothing left to heal you with." He finished and Red lowered her arms. If possible, she was paler now than when he'd first seen her.

"It's okay, I'm alive, you're alive, we have the talismans' back and now we're going to get out of this cave." She struggled to her feet using the wall. "I found a back way out, it's mostly cleared of Goblins." She took the bow back from him, notching an arrow. "Stay behind me and be quiet as you can." Vereta nodded and followed in Red's swift footsteps as she led him through the winding tunnels back to the surface. Twice, she was forced to leave V behind and go on her own. Always he worried she wouldn't return and always she did. Pale and grim, a few arrows lighter, she led her friend safely to the entrance and his horse.

"Get on him." She told V. "I'll get the door, ride out quietly and head to your left. Savior is tied off that way." Without waiting to watch him mount, she went to the cavern mouth and silently but for muffled sounds of pain, worked the door open. Vereta rode swiftly past her and away. She quickly replaced the door and listened for sounds of pursuit. There were none. At least they could have that much, she thought and jogged slowly after Vereta to the waiting horses.

She found him standing by Savior, removing nettles from his coat.

"Looks like he's been through a lot." He said and smoothed the hair back down again.Savior, in gratitude, nipped Vereta's shirt. Red went to him, patting him affectionately.

"We need to get moving. We're running out of time." She pulled herself up into Savior's saddle and was forced to simply sit for a moment, relearning how to breathe through the pain in her back. "It's nearly time." She said to V as he mounted beside her.

"Another hard ride." He said and hoped Red was capable of it. She nodded.

"We can be there in a few hours if we ride fast. No stopping." She wiped at the perspiration appearing on her forehead. "We need to be there at the right time. Come on." With that, she gave Savior a slap on the rump and they were off, galloping into the twilight and towards the Shrine, so near.

[WhoGuru]

Vereta and Red rode hard away from the Goblin caves and towards the Shrine of Akatosh. They were making good time despite their exhaustion.

The closer they came to their goal, the more unsure Red became of whether they would truly succeed. Doubts assailed her as she thought of the many things that must go just exactly right for their plan to work. Glancing at Vereta, she thought he was thinking the same things. He held the sword tightly against his chest and she could see him murmuring to it, as if trying to make Wil hear him wherever he was.

She brushed a hand over her throbbing and swollen cheek and forced the doubts away. There was no room for them. Wil would be saved. She needed him, she realized. Like she needed Rider and even Vereta. They felt like family to her and the thought of facing a day with any one of them missing was too harsh to contemplate. She glanced at Vereta again, fondly this time. Her heart was thawing because of these people. She wasn't sure she wanted it too but it was happening never the less.

She shifted in the saddle for the hundredth time, trying to find some comfortable position with the misery that was her back. Her breaths were short and pained and if she thought they could afford the loss of time, she'd beg for a rest. She was close too begging truth be told and knew Vereta could see it. He often spurred his mount even with Savior to get a look at her face and always frowned at what he saw.

Too his credit, he said nothing. He knew she was right. Their time was almost up. They were so near the Shrine now, resting could wait until after they arrived.

For almost three hours they pushed their mounts and themselves to the limit, never stopping and never slowing. Reaching the Shrine in time to save William was all that mattered. They outpaced bandits twice, leaving them in the dust. Once, upon seeing a Wolf blocking the road, Red drew her scavenged bow and without stopping, shot it dead, Savior leaping over the corpse and they carried on.

Finally, the Shrine came into sight, atop a hill just ahead of them. Its' pillars seemed to call to Vereta and his mount, feeling rest was close, spurred on to greater speed. As one, they topped the rise and rode to the Shrine. It was quiet beside the ancient structure and peaceful after their long, harrowing journey. Vereta looked over and found Red leaning dangerously in the saddle. She looked almost unconscious. Quickly he dismounted and went to her. She snapped back as he touched her and looked around, then smiled.

"We're here." She said softly, seeming unable to speak louder. "We beat the others." Now she frowned. "I was hoping they'd already be here." She slid off Savior's back and leaned there, surveying the land from the rise. "At least we'll be able to see danger coming." Vereta helped her over to the Shrine and Red sat stiffly on it's edge.

"They'll be here soon." V said, sure of it. If they had survived the journey, the others surely would. He set the Soul Sword against the side of the Shrine and placed the Azura's Star against it, as Will had told him: Keep the two close together at all times. Red was slowly slipping down to sit on the ground and turned so her back was not pressing against the stone.

"I think we've earned a rest now, V." She smiled up at him, exhausted, in pain and happy to finally be where they needed to be. "First watch is all yours." She breathed and was asleep a second later, or unconscious, he wasn't sure which but didn't mind. She was right, they'd earned a rest. Hopefully now, his magicka would have a chance to regenerate.

Taking a seat beside Red, he pulled a few books from his bag and decided to hunt after this gemstone of hers while he waited. He didn't like that her healing would no longer work on herself. Such a thing was never good, and the search distracted him from the wait for the others. Together, one asleep, one watchful, they waited for the others to arrive, the Shrine of Akatosh at their backs as silent protector.

[WillieSea]

The landscape is covered in dark rocky spires that point into the night sky. They fill the land from horizon to horizon. The Wraith's rush towards William like a black wave covering the land.

William starts running from the amassed army of undead that are rushing towards him. A thought, a memory rises, a horse of an odd color. Thunder the demon horse! William looks back at the horde that is quickly closing in on him and stumbles into something solid and furry. Looking up, he sees a horse.

Climbing quickly onto the horses back, it kicks its forelegs up and then tears off across the landscape heading for the setting sun. Miles go by; dark rock spires reach for the sky all around them and then quickly pass. William notices that the horse is Thunder, his demon horse, his first true friend. The Wraith's slowly gain on the two, and soon catch up to them.

William jumps from Thunder's back and whirls his dual swords in a vicious attack on the closest Wraith's, whose death screams are drowned out by the mass of Wraith's behind them. He jumps over, under and around the slashing sword strikes and vicious clawed attacks. His memories are as armor around his body, protecting him. The massed Wraith's finally get in under William's guard; one of his sparkling memories is hit and shatters it to splinters. Another memory rises to take its place. But the loss hurts

Thunder slashes with his brightly shimmering golden horn at several Wraith's, while kicking with his golden hind hooves at several others. The Wraith's fall by the dozen, but there is an endless sea of them replacing those that fall.

One by one, memories shatter to the onslaught of endless Wraith's, despair fills William. At this rate, no matter how many foul creatures William and Thunder destroy, there were always more to fill their ranks. Eventually, all of his memories would be gone, and then he would cease to exist. Something had to be done, there had to be a way to drive the creatures back.

A thought came to William a very recent memory. The medallion, perhaps it could show the truth of this place? Lashing out with both blades in a twirling attack, the Wraith's surrounding him are vanquished. The resulting clearing gave him a moment to clasp the amulet and seek the truth.

A vision of a rock spire changing into a bright ivory tower filled his vision. The vision is quickly replaced with a Wraith swinging a long sword in a downward arc at William's head. Kicking backward, William dove out of the way and jumped on Thunders back. To a spire Thunder!, William yells, and they dash through the Wraith's. Those that are in the way are trampled under the golden hooves, or gored by the golden horn. Twin blades swirl in a deadly circle on both sides of Thunder as William protects Thunders flanks.

William reaches out and touches the rock spire, thinking of a brilliantly glowing ivory tower he once saw. The spire shimmers in the encroaching darkness of night as more Wraith's fall to the blades and hooves of the duo. The rock spire shakes and the rocks fall from its flanks, revealing an ivory tower which glows in the darkness. The Wraith's fall back from the light of the tower. William looks around, there are thousands of rock spires dotting the landscape. He would have to fight his way to each one and change them. It appeared to be the only way to stem the tide of the never ending spirits of the dead.

Thunder, needing no instruction, bolted through the Wraith's towards the next closest spire with William in close pursuit behind him, protecting the rear. A few more memories fall to the onslaught. The second spire is touched, and it transforms into another ivory tower, whose light combines with the first tower, forming a corridor of light between them. The Wraith's avoid the lighted area and become frenzied in an attempt to stop William from changing any more of the spires into ivory towers.

The battle to the third tower is intensely fierce as the undead attempt to stop William's progress. Several more memories shatter and a void starts to fill William as each memory is destroyed. He might survive the battle, but loose the war to attrition. He had to hurry!

Thunder, sensing Williams growing desperation attacks with renewed vigor and clears giant swathes of ground, slashing and kicking Wraith's in every direction. An opening clears to the next spire, which William dodges through and upon touching, transforms it. The light combines with the other two towers to create a triangle of light in the darkness. All the dark creatures caught inside the triangle dissolve and fall to the ground, dead.

Taking a moment to rest, they rush for another spire which is soon transformed. Spire after spire soon become ivory towers, casting away the shadows in their brilliant white light. Days seem to pass as the two battle through the thinning army of undead. Spire after spire metamorphis, casting their light into the darkness. The sky brightens a little with each transformation, the Wraith's become weaker and weaker and their numbers diminish with each new tower converted.

Much later, looking over the landscape, thousands of bright towers fill William's vision. The battle seems to go on forever, slash, run, touching spires. At one point, there are so many towers brightly shining, that their light crosses over to the remaining rock spires and transforms them all. Soon, only Ivory towers can be seen shining across the horizon.

With the darkness defeated, the Wraith's are no more. The sun shines high in the sky as William rides Thunder over a desolate plain. The ivory towers recede slowly behind them.

A dried up river bed is soon before them. Looking around, William is suddenly standing by the dried mud of the ancient river. Thunder is gone, back to his plane of existence. A true friend if ever there was one, able to go anywhere.

The plain William stood on was deathly silent, no breeze blew his hair and the noon day sun was hot and dry. William stood there, not knowing what to do next.

[DarkRider]

The ranger led the way along the narrow pass to the main road that would lead them to the Shrine of Akatosh. With any luck, their comrades would be waiting with the soul sword and the Azura star to bring William back to the realm of the living. Of course, if things went badly for them, they could be meeting William in an unexpected manner in the realm of the dead. The party was silent as they walked through the grey and timeless veil. Shamus was walking just behind him, leading his mount, while Grond and Echo walked behind them a few paces, and leading the cart horses.

In his mind, Shamus was running through lists of information from his travels and studies; his eyes were kept on the ground at his feet. He had heard stories of the Veil and knew that if he kept his head down and his mind active, his soul would not slip away from him. He glanced up at Rider's back. The ranger's eyes were on the horizon, moving through this spirit crossing as if it was the most natural of things. There were only a handful of beings that could pass in and out of the Veil with such ease, the archaist knew enough to know it required an old magic that had been long lost to Tamriel. He considered the stories he had heard of this Dark Rider and wondered if there wasn't some truth to the rumors that the Rider no longer belonged solely in the living world.

"What?" Rider asked suddenly.

Shamus felt himself blush, but shook it off, "I didn't say anything."

Still walking, the ranger glanced back at him, "I know it. You're burning a hole in the back of my head. Something on your mind?"

For a moment, he thought he might actually share his questions, but thought better of it, "I was wondering how we tell the passage of time? There's no fading light here, no darkness, just grey."

"There is no time here," Rider answered evenly, "When time has passed in the mortal world, the veil will thin and we'll cross through."

"Shamus only nodded, and patted his steed reassuringly; satisfied to let the march fall back into silence between them.

Grond watched the two horsemen walking ahead speaking quietly. The silence in this place was unnerving. He had been humming Nordic folk songs in his head, but now found himself humming out loud if only to break the damning stillness. Echo walked next to him quietly, his mouse like eyes darting here and there watching for some danger he knew must be lurking. Something in the distance caught Grond's attention and he stopped walking. It was a glowing orb of light and it seemed to be moving toward them. Echo had also stopped walking, and Grond looked down to see him staring at the orb as well, only there was a far away exp​ression on his face.

"Echo," Grond set a heavy hand on the younger man's shoulder, "We should keep moving now," he said calmly, "The others are getting a lead on us."

But Echo didn't move, and didn't reply. He stared at that distant orb of light drawing closer and closer.

"Rider," Grond called to the ranger; ahead Rider and Shamus turned to look at him. The Nord looked down at Echo, the younger man seemed to be shorter than before. The big Nord noticed where Echo's feet used to be the grey earth seemed to have crawled up his legs as if pulling him under, "By Stendarr!" he shouted, gripping his strong hands around Echo's torso, "Rider!!!"

"...it's...it's my mother," Echo mumbled, the color in his eyes was beginning to wane.

Rider and Shamus came running to the cart to help. More orbs of light were beginning to appear in the distance. The orb Echo was watching was very near and began to take the shape of a woman.

"Grond lift him off the ground. It will take him," Rider ordered urgently, "Shamus, the spirit. Use fire to drive her off!"

The big Nord tightened his grip on Echo and heaved with all his strength, but the grey land held fast. The color was beginning to drain from his skin and a glow began to emanate from him. Rider pulled his boot knife free of its sheath and began cutting into the ground around Echo's feet until Grond was able to pull him free and into his arms. Shamus pulled a torch from his pack and lit it, charging toward the spirit. Swinging it at her like a cudgel the spirit returned to an orb like form and scattered with every swing only to reshape herself.

"She's still coming," Grond warned. He shook Echo in his arms, "Echo, stay here with us! Don't look at her!"

"She...she wants...me to...come with her," Echo mumbled.

"NO!" Grond and Rider both shouted.

"You can't go now, mate, it's not your hour," Grond said. Suddenly he turned away from the specter and did the only thing he could think to do; he ran carrying Echo away with him. Rider hurried to light a torch and rushed over to help Shamus.

"She won't move off," Shamus reported as he came closer puling another torch from his pack and lighting it on the first. Rider followed suit and only when four torches were lit, did Echo's mother finally look at them. Her eyes were ghostly and sad. She stared at them with eyes that were unseeing.

"Okay," Rider said quietly, his eyes locked on the ghost visage before them, "move together, we can push her back now."

There was no answer from Shamus and then: "It's my grandfather, he said quietly, He died when I was a boy."

"Shamus look at me!" Rider said sharply. Shamus did and shook his head as if coming out of a dream, "Don't listen to him, don't speak to him, or you're done for."

"R-right," Shamus nodded, shaking off the clingy webs of a strange longing. He looked at his grandfather. The old man appeared just as he remembered. He stood at a distance smiling but didn't seem to be coming for him, only visiting. Shamus felt more alive in that moment than ever before literally facing his own passing and refusing to lose his connection to the life force.

Without a word passing between them, Rider and Shamus moved forward pushing Echo's mother back. She retreated, submitting to the strength of the flames energy and when they had moved well away from Echo, she finally vanished as surely as she had appeared. They doused the torches and headed back to the cart. Grond was also returning, still carrying Echo.

"His color's coming back," he told them. He gently laid Echo in the cart beside William. Shamus climbed into the cart to crouch beside him and check his pulse.

"He's still alive," he said, "I think he'll be okay."

Rider remembered the ring William had given him, perhaps it could help Echo now, "Here," he said pulling the band from his finger and handing it to Shamus, "put this on his finger, it may help to heal whatever injuries have taken hold of him."

Shamus put the ring on Echo's finger and jumped down from the cart, "I think the horses have rested long enough, perhaps we should ride now. We won't be such targets for these curious beings."

"Aye, let's see them woo us at breaking speed!" Grond agreed. The three companions walked toward the front of the cart, but before the big Nord could climb into the driving seat, the ranger spoke.

"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I'm sorry I brought you all here. It was a good plan at the time, but under the circumstances it seems I've put you in even greater danger."

"Don't go questioning yourself now, Rider, Grond said in a genuine tone, clapping a hand on the ranger's shoulder, "I'd rather take me chances with my dead nana than a horde of wraiths any day."

Shamus laughed, "Aye, me too. My nan is far less likely to rip my head off!"

Rider looked from Grond to Shamus as if weighing their answers, then a half smile broke over his lips and gleam lit his eye, "Let's ride."

Grond climbed into the driving seat and snapped the reins lightly, "Get up me darlings!"

The cart horses seemed content to pick up the pace. Rider and Shamus mounted their steeds and cantered along on either side of the cart. They traveled at a steady pace throughout the night, always aware of some specter appearing or disappearing around them. Just before dawn the next day, the veil grew thin and with another whispered chant the veil passed them gently into the dawn of the mortal world.

"The shrine is just over that rise," Shamus said, bringing Sainmh'ni to a stop. For a moment he sat and breathed the fresh crisp morning air, he listened to the life ebbing all around him, the sounds of the world. He knew it would never again sound like anything less than a miracle to him. Legion snorted loudly, shaking out his broad head.

"Come, only a few paces more then and we'll be there," the ranger said, pulling Legion's head up, "If Akatosh is smiling on William's return, Red and Vereta will be waiting for us."

"Let's not keep them waiting," Grond smiled broadly, "Yah! Come on! Get up!"

Grond led the rest of the way to the shrine of Akatosh. Red and Vereta were indeed waiting and hurried to the cart to check on William's body. Rider dismounted and shrugged at the questioning look Red gave him upon discovering Echo snoozing quietly in the cart. They quickly moved William to the altar and tied the horses off in the woods where they would be safe. The stage was set, they had only to wait.

[WillieSea]

William was laid in the center of the wayshrine to Akatosh, the chief deity. The ring was removed from the now awake Echo and placed on his finger. The Soul Sword and Azura Star were laid on his chest, with the star on top the sword hilt. Everything was ready; they would just have to wait for William. Time passed, and the morning sun shown down on them, and crept slowly up into the sky. The group talked amongst themselves about their travels across the wilderness to the shrine. They laughed, they cried, they consoled each other, there in the wilderness standing around a shrine to Akatosh, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Vereta had become impatient and attempted to hurry the process through the necromantic arts as everyone watched. An hour passed with no change in William's status. Exhausted, he sat down and looked dejected, nothing he tried seemed to work like it should have. The friends consoled him and waited in anticipation, and a hint of despair.

Red swallowed a sob and dropped to her knees next to William's body. She gathered his head and shoulders in her lap as he had once done for her. She bent her head to his ear and whispered. "William. I'm not ready for you to leave yet. I need you." She cried, gently stroking the golden blonde hair newly restored by the waters of time. "I need you to teach me how to be a person again. How to leave the assassin in me behind. Come back to us, please."

The Rider knelt on the other side of the body, Grond stood at his shoulder. As Grond placed a hand on William's head, Rider took William's cold hand in his own and spoke to him. "Willie Sea, my friend. The world is not yet ready to be quit of you. You are needed here."

Vereta sat next to Red and gently touched the man's hand. "Please Will." He pleaded softly. "Please make this all have been for something. I don't want you to be gone. Not like this."

Red cried then, her tears dropping softly onto William's face. This once, she did not care who saw her weakness and, closing her eyes, held him tight and tried to will him back into his body. Shamus placed a comforting hand on Vereta's shoulder as his head bowed and Echo too looked on, whispering a plea for Will's swift return. No one noticed the flames that burned deep within Red's eyes as her tears flowed freely.

As one, they all silently called to their friend, hoping to guide his lost soul back where it belonged.

Red's tears fell freely on William. One of the fiery and emotionally charged tears landed on the Azura's Star and ran down its side, gaining something from the star in its passing, and then dripped onto the soul sword with a sizzle. If anybody had been watching, a flame would have been seen deep within the tear, a flame that once inhabited another host, and would soon change through the power of the star and the soul sword, and join with another host. The gift of the gods was now ready to be bestowed upon the chosen one.

William was startled by a sudden booming noise that interrupted the silence of the place. In the distance, lightning and thunder could be seen and heard. In the high craggy mountain peaks on the horizon, a storm could be seen brewing. Great black clouds started to cover the horizon and move towards him.

A figure formed in those rolling clouds as it billowed and rolled in, it was Sithis himself leading the charge! William was rooted to the spot at glimpsing a being so powerful. The great black clouds boiled towards him and in its wake, great rains washed over the land and great bolts of lightning struck the ivory towers, destroying them and their light, one by one.

A deep rumble is heard, and William turns to look up river and spots a giant wave of water crashing down the old riverbed. William looks up into the face of Sithis who now has a smile on his face as the wall of water cascades over William, washing him away. Blackness envelops him, tosses him around and sweeps him downstream.

The tear runs down the length of the sword, sizzling as it snakes a path towards the point, where it pools, hangs on the point and finally drops onto William's corpse.

A Gasp! An inhaling of a deep breath, a suddenly beating heart, William's eyes flicker open to see a world of Red's face, tears rolling down her face. Then, looking into the same face with the look of sudden amazement, relief, and joy.

LIFE!

Other faces crowd quickly into view. Rider, Vereta, Echo, Shamus and Grond. Friends, both old and new gather around the newly animated William.

A moan escapes William's throat, his vocal cords unresponsive from such a long time unused, thought dead. Red hugs William to her closer and openly cries her happiness. Vereta checks William's vital signs to make sure the magical re-animation is complete. Looking at the artifacts, the Azura Star had disintegrated and the sword had lost its shine, becoming dull again.

Finally, William manages to talk in a raspy tone, Red, he whispers, I am glad to see you again too, but I am finding it hard to breath. Red released her tight grip on William and wiped her tears away, brushing the hair from her face. Looking deeply into the green pools of William's eyes, she thought she saw the flicker of a flame as it vanished into the depths, finally becoming one with its host.

The friends help William to sit up; his stiff body slowly becomes limber again as his life returns to it. Smiling faces tear streaked on some look back into William's white face as it slowly turns pink again. A smile creases his face, and then a laugh escapes his lips followed by more of the same, he had cheated death this time around. Rider joins in the infectious laughter and soon the whole group is laughing, more in relief than anything else. William thought to himself, it worked! Their questions could wait for another time, it was time to celebrate.

William thought about all that had happened to him in that place. He had learned many valuable lesions. In the end, Sithis had smiled down on him and sent him back, a truly worthy opponent who had won his freedom this day.

Sithis could wait a while longer before he claimed his favorite son. But it would be for a different purpose than to return to the void. William had learned how to avoid that danger. Another reality awaited him, a reality created new by Sithis, the void, the creator of all!

[WhoGuru]

The group had spent several hours at the Shrine, relating their tales of adventure and sorrow. William was truly touched at the lengths his friends had gone to in the effort to save both his life and that of the Rider. Rider's group, though as happy as the others, seemed reluctant to speak of some of their journey. Echo especially drew away from any mention of what had befallen them. Vereta on the other hand, regaled them with how Red had single handedly taken down a clan of Goblins. She shoved him good naturedly and laughed at his elaboration. This sparked more conversation, more laughter and a general realisation. No longer would the Rider have to worry about the Duke hunting him down for refusing to slay a friend. William too was freed of a great weight and seemed lighter than before his ordeal.

Finally, after the friends had talked themselves dry, a unanimous vote agreed they would return to the Tavern, to home, and slake their well earned thirst on honeyed meade. They were loathe to separate and begin the ride back. It took another half hour for them all to be mounted and ready to leave. Their party started the journey back in a happy, companionable silence. They were all alive, all free, all whole of body and even mind, though Echo might argue that point. The first night they camped by the river Red had taken a swim in and she, with a laugh and hands in the air, refused to help them fish. Rider clapped her on the shoulder and, with Shamus laughing beside him, went off to catch dinner.

William helped Grond light the fire and Vereta offered to gather more wood. "I'll help you." Red said and started off into the trees with him. "Are you alright?" She asked him, for he was quiet, even for V.

He smiled up at her. "Yes. Just...I don't think I ever really thought it would work." He shrugged. "I feel a bit...shocked I think." He laughed at himself quietly. "I think I'd like to do this alone."

Red understood and rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment, went back to the camp and left Vereta to his thoughts. At camp, Grond was splayed out beside the now roaring fire, snoring fit to wake the Nine. William chuckled when Red appeared. "I tried to turn him over." He said, gesturing. "Even I could not move that." Red laughed and sat across from him.

She looked under her lashes at Wil, studying him. He was lighter, not in any way she could physically see, but somehow his soul had lost some great weight pulling it down. In a very small part of herself, she envied him. Inwardly she cursed herself for such a small emotion and rose. Perhaps quiet time for introspection was not such a good idea after all.

"Where are you off to?" William asked.

"Believe it or not, the river." She laughed and stared at the ground. "Think I'd like to see it again without being half drowned and having to climb back up." She pressed a hand to Will's shoulder as she passed, as if making sure he were still there and went to join the others.

William sat alone, for the first time since waking and found he was not sure he wanted to be. The snoring bulk of Grond nearby reassured him that he was not still in a dreamworld. Deciding he was not ready to be on his own just yet, he too decided to head to the river. It was a short walk and he followed the sound of rushing water. Soon, he heard the sound of voices and then a screech. Red's voice carried across the wind to him and he sped toward the water, wondering what new trap had befallen them.

He skidded to a halt at the treeline and stood bemused, then roaring laughter. Red was sitting in the shallows, an unrepentant Echo above her on the bank. Obviously, he'd decided to help her over her fear very directly. She was wet, pissed and soon grabbed hold of Echo's leg, flipping him in as well. Then she laughed and slogged out of the shallows.

Rider, ever the gentleman, wrapped his cloak around her as she emerged. Looking up the slope at William she grinned. "Keep laughing and I'm going to see if the recently dead float."

The river bank filled with laughter and even Vereta, who had followed the sounds as well, joined in. Together, with a healthy catch of slaughterfish, they returned to camp and cooked their catch.

The next morning they set off again. Several bandits were dissuaded from approaching the large group along the way. There was no profit in death after all and this party was surely capable of besting them.

They rode all of that day and finally, in the late hours of dusk, came into sight of the Tavern. As one they cheered and a manic race began to see who would reach the stables first. Not surprisingly, Rider and Shamus entered in a dead heat, roaring with laughter. When they entered the Tavern, the barkeep did a double take at Wil and then slumped to the floor.

Vereta quickly went to him, reviving him amid the cheers and happiness the groups return sparked. Finally, all were seated about the fire, mugs of warmed honeyed Meade in their hands and, for a time at least, happy to simply be home and together again.

[_echo]

Echo made no waste of time to scavenge through his stash of random trinkets he had collected in his travels with the group. He reached into his bag to pull out his new goodies to add to his old, but, it was empty... Echo, eyes wide as an owl, opened his bad and looked inside wondering where his trinkets had gone, only to find nothing but a paper clip and a little nibble of cheese. Echo rummaged through his bag so violently that it looked as though he were attempting to curl up in it. Everyone over by the fire turned to see what the commotion was, and looked in wonder and amusement seeing echo flail around.

Finally, echo stopped flailing, but head still within the bag. "AHA!" Echo yelled, slightly muffled by the thick hide of the bag. He poked his finger out from a hole in the bottom of the bag, and peered out at the onlooking crowd. "It was him!" Echo said. "Rattious McSneakious! the cursed foe who has plagued my bag..."

Everyone looked at Echo in utter confusion.

Echo pulled his head out of the bag and proceeded to patch it up. Glancing periodically over at the others who have since turned back to their fire. Echo paused for a moment and pulled out a candle from his stash, set it on the floor next to him, and lit it with a spark spell he had been practicing., then returned to his patching.

[grond]

Some days earlier, before he left the Tavern to follow the Rider on what had then seemed a hopeless quest, Grond had taken the kitchen staff aside and given them serious orders, orders that Grond insist they follow, or die attempting. They accepted their quest with the gravity of any Crusader. As the companions told their tales round the bright fire, Grond put his plan into action. He pointed to the barkeep and nodded. Arlow disappeared into the kitchen. Grond stood and raised his flagon.

"My friends, the Rider has had other things to fret about this week," said the Nord, "so we can forgive him his gross dereliction of duty." The companions all laughed together and William and Rider eyed one another and raised their mugs. Grond continued. "I on the other hand unlike you young ruffians and danger-seekers - I have my priorities in the correct order, and so I have prepared for the most important stage of any good quest. That is -- the Homecoming!" He made a bow to them, and then with a sweeping gesture, he directed their attention to the kitchen door.

A procession appeared. The cooks brought to a round oaken table plates of baked fish, and sliced meats, and a pyramid of corn on the cob. There were bowls of other vegetables, some shining with melted cheese Echo's eyes watered there were breads dark and light, and sweet cakes, and fresh fruits strawberries and cream, apples soaked in port, and grapes ripe for plucking. There were many other delicacies besides, both sweet and savory. As the friends gladly gathered around the feasting table, William said, "Seems I haven't eaten a thing in my entire life. I'm famished!"

Laughing again, the company of friends sat. Grond went into the kitchen and returned, himself carrying the centerpiece in his arms a platter bearing a boar that had been cooking for so long that if you looked hard at it, the meat would fall from the bone. The feast began. There came a time of quiet, while they filled their empty bellies; the only words were those of thanks to the cooks for creating such wonders, and cries for more drink.

They remained at the table for some time after, drinking mead and stout and bright wine, and nibbling sweets, and laughing together. Rider exclaimed, "Friend Grond! Now that we've time for tales, tell me: what kept you for so long from your favorite chair by the fire?" The others added their voices to Rider's curiosity.

"Oi!," replied the Nord, as he swallowed stout. Smacking his lips he said, "Tis a strange tale and not finished! Not yet! There be a thing out yonder he waved to the darkness outside the likes of which I ain't never seen before. Here I take to the wood to hunt for the larder, and become the hunted!" He began the strange tale of his long delay.

"I was tracking a magnificent deer, a ten point buck it was. For half a day I tracked him. Me friend Riley met me and together we hunted. Then that evening I had him where I wanted him, I thought. I don't bring no weapon when I hunt I like to catch the critters with me hands! Get me some wild rubbed onto my skin. It be exciting stalk and hide, read the wind, lie in wait, then pounce! So get a picture in yer heads of this. A little valley, and a short waterfall, and me about to spring out on a big buck and have a wrestling match, when all of a sudden, there in the moons light the cursed deer melted into a nightmare!"

The others gasped and Echo said, "What do you mean it melted? Like cheese?"

"No - well, aye - like cheese the thing's shape turned as I spied it from the bush. It became this round blob turned green it did, and it was carried along by many long snakes that sprung out of the bottom if it. Bloated, hideous it was. It had some eyes on it, it did, bright shiny black pits. I saw fanged mouths at the end of the snakes but tweren't no eyes but those on the blob of its body. The thing had something like a tiny beak underneath them eyes. Then it ran slap! into the falls and was gone! I leapt after the thing and expected to find the door it went through, but after a bit of searching I could find none. So I climbed the hill the stream came down and there I spied the sickest trail I ever did see. Glowing and slimey it was, and I knew then the thing is a shape shifter who likes the water.

It be fast, too, for in a minute or two, while I searched, it had gotten itself up the falls and up the stream beyond and as I followed the slimy path it made I saw that it had ducked into the thick wood. I ran along the path, for some time. Then it vanished the path did, I mean and Riley said, Perhaps that was a dream-creature. Perhaps we both fell asleep. To that, I replied, No, that beast is real. Let's keep searching that way."

" 'tis a foul shapeshifter then," said Riley, "but it seemed solid enough back yonder to leave that mess."

Smiled I did at that. "That means it can be killed," said I. "Yes, my friend," said the dog, "if it shows itself to be our enemy. Remember that well, Grond. Looks may deceive."

The others exchanged looks when Grond told of what the dog had said to him. But they let Grond continue.

"So we headed in the direction we guessed the creature had taken, and followed the trail for two weeks. A fortnight! Each time we thought we made the wrong guess, or that the monster had gone in another direction, we'd find another patch of the nasty slime. At the end of the fortnight, we reached the Jerall Mountains. As morning broke we caught sight of another bit of the ghastly slime. But this bit was steaming in the cool morning breeze like it was freshly laid down. Said I, 'I believe we be closing in on the thing.' Then I touched the slime and the world went suddenly black."

"What possessed you to touch it?" William asked, stifling laughter.

"Dunno," said the Nord. "Just damnable curiosity, I guess. At any rate, I came to in a ghastly chamber. Some greyish light lit it. All around me were dead things - Man, Mer, Beasts of many kinds and shapes were stacked in great piles, and in the center was the thing. I realized that I lay atop another pile. I flung myself off the pile and down to a slick spot on the dirt floor, gagging with disgust."

"Now, I've faced many horrors; I been covered in the gore of battle too many times in my life to be made sick, even by as much blood and guts as lay around me then. But I retched there in the grey room. I felt sick. Thought I, this be poison, strong and vile. The thing in the center of the room turned to me then and three of the snake-legs cast themselves at me. I leapt out of the way, and the snakes wrapped themselves round one of the bodies. Then they shot back to the little beak, which became a black gaping maw. It swallowed the body whole."

"Well well," shouted I, all the while readying a Frost spell, and hurriedly casting me eyes about the dim lit feeding room, "Ain't you a fat ugly piece of dung!" The frost spell was ready, and I saw a dull glimmer of something a few murky feet to me left which told me I would not be empty-handed for much longer. The thing shuffled a bit as I moved, so that it faced me. As it moved, I could see the thing seemed to be lit from below, or its underside glowed.

"I forced a huge laugh outta me, but weakening I was from the poison. "Ha Ha! You'll have to work for your next meal!" I hurled myself up and to me left as the thing shot more snakes out at me. Leaping further away, I saw the snakes catch and pull in another dead shape. I slipped on the bloodsoaked chest of an Ogre Titan, reached out and dragged the beast's iron hammer from its death grip. Climbed defiant then, did I, atop the death heap, and me laughter echoed. Soon enough, more snakes shot out again, but this time, I threw meself at em. Held a snake with one hand, did I, as the other two wrapped tight round me. But my other arm was still free and it held the hammer. I cast the frost spell, and the snakes round me body let go, but I still had a grip on the third snake. Pulled me back to the mouth, it did - wide and dark and lined with fangs. Nearly had an arm pulled from its socket, did I! The snake I held, hard and cold from the frost spell, lifted as it pulled, and as I came above the thing, I let go, falling downwards to the mouth. Roaring, hammer held high, I fell, and swung the hammer with both hands as I came down. I scored a massive hit between the monster's eye slits. It was dead.

"I lay there on the slimy monster. For a little while. Then I got up and tried to find the light I spied below it. But the thing wouldna move! As I lifted some part of the monster, the rest of it just jiggled down to fill the spot I lifted.

"Now, a hammer is the perfect weapon to beat your opponent. I know ye all favor a quick blade, though -- and then, right there, so did I. So I went a searchin through the gory pile. Found me a short blade that the dead Breton needed no longer. I leaned away from the huge bulk to keep away from what would leak out, lest I be sent to a place more foul, and plunged the blade in. Black blood ran down as I sawed through the tough meat, and when I'd removed a fairly large hunk of it, I peered into what lay beneath.

"I breathed a bit easier, for I saw, beyond some grating and not far down, a dirt floor lit with torchlight, but dark right down below me. Smashing away the grating with the hammer, I squirmed into the tight opening and let myself fall down to the floor. I wiggled away, for directly beneath the grate was a pool of the blood of the monster's victims, and other sicker droppings besides. Then I stood. I was in the middle of a cave, and I spied more grates in the roof of it, and from some of them ran streams of blood. Heard odd sounds, did I, of mashings and gurglings above, but besides the rats and mudcrabs feeding off the droppings there weren't no one else in the cavern with me. I saw a way that run off to one side and I took it. It led to a door, and I opened it. Easy and safe, I came outside into the fresh night air, and still alone. The door opened out onto a quiet hillock, the shoulder of a higher peak. I saw at its top a grey Keep.

" 'Twas then I felt this call. Amidst a shaking sickness I felt that the Rider was in a fix, and he needed me. I knew not which direction I needed to go, so I headed off down the hillock and away from the rising sun. Hearing me Dad's words, I echoed them aloud, When in doubt, go west! So I did.

Before nightfall of that day, I'd run out of strength and I lay myself down by a small pool in a quiet grove. Sick as a rat I was, and just as weak. I slept then, Stendarr knows how long, and I woke to find that Riley had been a searchin' for me, and Chance had led him to me. He caught fish for me, filled my waterskin, and kept things away from the grove while I rested. Soon but not too soon I was fit as a fiddle again. Riley wanted badly to find the Keep and explore, but I needed to return to the Tavern, so we parted.

"That is my tale. That were my delay. I need more pie!"

And Grond found the pie he needed.

[WillieSea]

William ate of the rich meal prepared by the Tavern staff. He promised himself to leave a sack of gold for them, freely given from the spoils of his adventures. The loot from the assassins that had been after Red had piled up into several thousand gold coins and did little good stashed away in his secret room vault.

After the meal, the friends split into small groups and talked. Grond, Red, Rider and William sat near the fire. Echo, Shamus and Vereta sat around one of the corner tables and had a lively and animated discussion about magic, lore, food and books.

Red kept looking at William, trying not to be noticed in doing so. William's ever alert eyes picked up on it, but he did not let it show that he knew. The four chatted about the last adventure, with Red and Rider both probing William for what had happened to him when he had died.

William just looked up at the rafters and rubbed his chin, not sure how to explain what he had experienced. He was not sure he wanted to talk about what he had gone through. It had been a rush and an eternity, dark and light, real and unreal, all at the same time. He finally said, It was like a dream where things just happened, disjointed and scary at times. You knew there was a destination, but you could not seem to get there.

Then silence returned to the group as the table in the corner grew louder. Magical spells, Aleyid treasure troves, cheese and sneaky rats could be overheard being talked about.

William caught the attention of Rider, and speaking softly, asked Rider if he could go with him to the castle to see the Duke. Surely the Duke still wanted to see Rider, and would probably be pretty upset that the famed assassin's corpse had vanished. The Wraiths that had come that night could easily explain the missing master assassin.

Rider was about to object since the guards had seen Willie Sea's face that night, although not very well in the torchlight. As he was about to say as much, he stopped and looked closely at William's face and features. He had not noticed it, as the changes had happened so slowly, and being in close contact, became familiar. William was changing!

William just looked like he had been out in the sun far too long and was turning a light reddish brown. His hair was changing color as well, becoming redder. And there seemed to be a slight sparkle in his eyes, almost undetectable except when he laughed.

The three looked at Rider, who sat there with his mouth open, staring at William. He finally uttered a weak, yes?

Grond slapped his leg and said, After we fulfill yer obligation at the castle, we can continue on to the keep. It should be a lively little adventure we should have!

William quickly spoke up with determination in his voice and a sudden sparkle to his eye, Yes, those vile abominations will no longer prey on the weak of our land. Their murdering innocents for food will STOP! The last word was punctuated with a suddenly glowing fist, a fist that burst into flame! Looking down in surprise, he shook his hand as if to put out the fire and a stream of fire burst forth and blasted the burning logs in the fireplace, incinerating them instantly and sending a cloud of ash and smoke over everybody by the fireplace, and soon the room.

Coughing and wiping soot from their faces, everybody left the tavern for the fresh air outside. The staff propped the door and windows open to air the place out. There was no fire as the flame from William and burnt everything in the hearth to ashes.

Rider took another look at William who was similarly coated in black ash and saw the surprise and worry on his face. This was certainly not something William had expected to happen. Only the four by the fire knew what had happened by the fireplace. Rider quickly spoke up, There must have been one heck of a pitch pocket in that log! and then laughed.

Grond and Red both opened their mouth to say something, but stopped at the raised hand from Rider. It would be best for the time being if this was kept quiet until they could learn more about it.

William looked hard at Rider, trying to determine what he was up to. Rider certainly liked his secrets, that was for sure. Something had happened, and it happened to him! Looking at Rider, he simply said, Perhaps I should go away from here, I am a danger to those around me if I cannot control this

Rider clapped William on the back, raising a great cloud of soot and they both coughed again. Nay, my friend, you shall accompany us to the castle, and the keep that Grond described to us after that. We can figure out what has befallen you on the way.

The Tavern staff went back inside to go about cleaning the great hall of soot while Rider called the group of friends together. William's issue was discussed between them and the journey to the vile shape shifters would begin on the morrow with a stop at the castle first.

Those who wished to go along could. Those with other plans could follow them instead.

William had a secret of his own. What the others had not seen when his hand flared up was the change his hand had made. This concerned William more than the uncalled flames did...

[WhoGuru]

Because she'd been watching, Red had noticed the continuing changes occurring to William. His golden hair that she'd so admired had begun to darken, looking more and more like her own. Even his skin had taken on a deep summer's tan. His accident with the fire was shocking to be sure, it also made her wonder. What else had she transferred to William during his rebirth?

She had felt her magic waken while he still lay dead, but only for a moment. She had thought little of it as nothing had seemed to happen. But her magic was becoming more and more unpredictable and though she could still heal others, she was no longer able to heal herself.

She shook her head and not for the first time, prodded that part of her that worked magic. It flared to life for an instant and was gone again, as if it knew it had nothing to do. She tried again, and again the same. She looked up finally to find William watching her.

"What?" She said, more gruff than she meant to and apologized. "I'm sorry." She smiled then to remove the sting. "Just thinking to hard I suppose."

"Is that all?" William placed a careful hand on her arm. "You looked upset about something...and you've been watching me all night."

She gasped, irritated at having been caught and flushed. "Sorry. Every time I look, you've changed a bit more." She shifted away, glancing again at the new William and the lightness of his being. "I'm a bit....envious I think." It hurt to admit that, but honesty always among friends, she told herself. "I'm glad you're back, Wil. Really." She smiled again and left to find her horse and settle him before their trek to the castle on the morrow.

William watched after her, not at all convinced he'd had the truth of what was bothering her. He frowned, certain something else was wrong. That she felt envy was surprising and, he supposed, understandable. He had suddenly what she wished for. Peace of mind, of soul. She would have to find hers the hard way and he would be sure to be there for her and guide her where he could. They had a kinship, they two, a darkness in their souls. Smoothing the frown from his brow, he headed back into the Tavern. If they were assaulting Grond's tower after they'd dealt with the Duke, there were a few things he would need first.

Red found Savior, as always, happily munching hay and patted him affectionately. "Glutton." She murmured. She pulled an apple from her pack, mercifully spared from the soot cloud and fed it to him in pieces. The simple act, and his undemanding company, helped settle her and she shortly returned to the Tavern. She decided to do something she had shied away from and, for the first time in a long time, put down roots. She went to the barkeep and requested a room. He stared at her for a moment in shock and then happily told her which she may have. Red smirked. He was no doubt expecting her to bed down outside as she always had.

With a lighter mood, she waved goodnight to those still there and made her way upstairs. Her room was small and sparse and at first, she felt a bit out of place. She laughed at her own silliness and went about preparing for bed. She set her pack on the table beside her and laying down was quickly asleep. Beside her, a faint red glow shone through the fabric of her pack for just a moment and faded. Red shifted uneasily in her sleep and dreamt of fires.