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

[DarkRider]

Rider excused himself from the room and headed upstairs to the tavern loft that served as his private quarter. The events of that evening had been strange indeed. He heard a door close in the hall below; sounded like Red had turned in for the evening. The gentle hum of voices was still filtering up from below. He knew Grond would likely be awake, telling stories, and drinking heartily until the barrels of ale were drained. The big Nord was a simple man, not to say that he was unwise for the Rider knew his friend possessed a great deal of wisdom, but Grond appreciated the simple things and could find joy whatever the circumstance. In a way, Rider envied his friend. Peace and happiness had never come readily to him even in his youth. He had always seemed to shoulder some burden. It was Grond's infectious laughter and hearty good cheer that had led the ranger to this place in the end. The clinking of glasses signaled another round of spirits making their way around the room below. His thoughts drifted to William.

The former assassin had changed so much in the brief time they had known one another. It was strange in many ways. The older, or rather other, man had been in almost a constant state of evolution since they had met. He remembered those early days, seeming so distant in his memory. Sir William was an assassin, an ally of the darkness, but there had been good in him all along. His thirst for blood was driven by vengeance not a malicious core. Rider had known many men like William during the dark days of his past. When the blood thirst was sated, they often changed; some for the better, some for the worse. It was unclear yet where William's transformations would lead him. One thing was certain; he was no longer the same devilishly cunning rogue the ranger had come to trust. The changes in William were profound; he wondered if this new being would bear even a slight resemblance to the man he had known. Would William soon ascend beyond them and this humble tavern? Whatever lay ahead, he would do what he could to protect his new friends; all of them. It had been too long since he had felt such fellowship.

He dropped onto his bed wearily. It had been a long three days and for the first time he realized he hadn't slept since before he'd taken William's life. It would be good to sleep, and to dream, though what dreams awaited him? He nodded off listening to the timbre of Grond's voice laughing and regaling the others with tales of his wild adventures.

When Rider awoke, no light was shining through his window and the tavern was still and silent. It was morning, but the sun had not yet begun to appear on the horizon. The ranger swung his legs out of bed, and out of habit he gathered up his long coat, his blade, and his satchel. Never knew when he would need them. The others had wanted to accompany him to Crownmora to retrieve his contract. He was a day late in fetching it and his pay; he hoped the Duke was not in a foul mood. As he crept downstairs he wondered why William was so eager to accompany him. He suspected the ex- assassin was eager to test his new visage in the face of his former enemy. Rider headed downstairs, reaching the main room silently. As he had predicted, Grond was unconscious in a chair by the fire, snoring into a half empty mug of ale. William was also asleep in a fireside chair; his youthful and reborn features appeared almost angelic in the light of the embers. Echo was curled up with his treasures on a pile of crates, chewing on a piece of dried jerky and mumbling incoherently. Shamus, it seemed, had managed to find his way to his room before passing out as there was no sign of the archaist anywhere in the common room.

The ranger headed outside to the stables to groom his steed and make sure his most faithful companion was fed and comfortable. The big black stallion poked his head out of his stall and nodded playfully at seeing his master. Rider opened the stall door and Legion came out, happy to stretch his long legs and to nudge at the ranger's back as they headed into the wide ring in the center of the stables. As they neared the open area, he could hear someone speaking quietly. There was only person it could be.

"I know," Red said to Savior quietly as she brushed down his coat, "I know what you're going to say, a carrot is not a sugar cube, but let's face facts here - you're not as young as you used to be. Gotta watch what you eat."

Rider couldn't help but laugh and Red spun quickly to look at him blushing a shade of red that rivaled her hair. Legion must have assumed she was looking at him as he whinnied loudly in greeting and shook his mane wildly for her. Savior danced in place at the stallion's arrival. The two horses had become quite accustomed to one another and equine friendship were often less complicated than those of their human masters.

"If we're interrupting something," Rider said with a grin, setting his gear down on the nearby table, "we can go outside."

Red flashed a wicked half smile, "Well, go on then. Bugger off you two!"

Rider picked up a set of brushes from the same table and headed outside. Without lead Legion followed after him, continuing to nip and nudge him as if begging for their next adventure to begin. Back out in the yard the sky was beginning to turn to pink overhead. The first rays of the sun had not yet breached the little hollow where the tavern was nestled. In the early light, Rider caught sight of movement on the road. Four mounted guardsmen from Crownmora were trotting dutifully up the hill. The ranger fairly groaned on the inside but waved in a friendly fashion as they arrived in the yard. He recognized the guard Captain Luren as he dismounted; the same damned pompous exp​ression on his face he had come accustomed to during his dealings with the Duke.

"Good morning, Captain," Rider said cheerily, "Pleasant ride out?"

"No," Luren was bristling, "You were due to meet his highness the Duke of Crownmora yesterday, you filthy cur," - the soldier pulled a small parcel from his saddle bag, -"The Duke asked us to bring you your pay and a message." He shoved the parcel into Rider's hand.

"I suppose this is my contract, and my pay," he noted; so much for paying the Duke a visit, "Feels a bit light."

"The Duke felt a dock of your wages might help you to remember your appointments in the future," the Captain sneered.

Rider was aware that the other three guardsman looked unusually agitated, "And the message?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Luren.

The Captain suddenly swung his gauntleted fist at the ranger's face, and though he tried to duck away, he managed to land a lucky blow just above Rider's eye. Blood trickled from the cut, but Rider didn't even pause to recover before swinging back. He had no gauntlets, but the gloves he wore protected his fists in any confrontation. The Rider made quick work of the overweight and off-balanced Luren; he struck any spot that wasn't shielded by the guard captain's armor. With only a few well placed strikes Luren was doubled over and heaving.

"Beat him within an inch of his miserable life!" he wretched at his subordinates. The Guardsman hurried to obey. As he fought the first one to reach him, Rider heard a familiar voice.

"Come now, boys, four to one doesn't seem like fair odds," and a flurry of red entered the fray. Working together, Rider and Red made quick work of beating the guards at their own game. Within minutes, Luren had had his fill and scurried onto his nag to ride out. From the doorway of the stables, Legion let out a call like only a stallion could muster, and the mare carrying the cowardly Captain, bucked her rider from her back before galloping off down the road alone. Luren hit the ground so hard the dust blew into the air around him, further confounding the scene. Rider and Red were laughing and watching the men stumble over one another to retreat. When Luren finally staggered to his feet, one of the other guards managed to mount his horse and helped the Captain mount up behind him before abandoning the fight altogether. Even as their comrades remain beaten and groaning in on the ground, they would surely tell the Duke they had successfully taught the ranger a lesson in courtly manners. Made no difference, the rogues knew the truth and enjoyed watching their quarry writhing in the dust.

[WhoGuru]

Rider and Red watched the remaining soldiers pick themselves up and depart in the half light of dawn, beaten and sore and she hoped learned of a valuable lesson. The Rider was dabbing at a split in his brow with a cloth and a smug smile on his face. They laughed and together went into the stables to tend their mounts. As they entered, it was to a duo of snorts and whinnies as Legion, with his long neck, nipped a spoiled hunk of hay from the floor and tossed it across to Savior. Red snorted as her ever fastidious steed picked up the offending bunch of straw and promptly tossed it back at Legion.

Rider let out a hearty laugh and clapped his hands. "Couple of characters, aren't they?" Red nodded, laughing too hard to do else and went to her mount. He greeted her warmly, with a last glare over her shoulder for Legion. Rider was equally employed convincing his horse to leave it be. Legion had the straw in his teeth again and was, comically, avoiding Rider's attempts to remove it.

"Better let him toss it." Red said breathless with laughter. "You'll never get him to sit still otherwise."

"Your horse..." Rider said, making a grab for the foul smelling hunk of straw and finally catching it. "Is a bad influence." He played a brief tug of war with his usually equitable mount and finally won. "Ha!" He said to Legion and, scratching his ears he gave a grin and tossed it over his shoulder at Savior's feet. Red choked a laugh and kicked the straw into the aisle.

"Oh, blame it on the horse. 'Tis the Rider that makes the mount." She laughed and set to brushing Savior as Rider once again roared with laughter. They spent a companionable time tending their horses, exchanging jokes, tidbits of their lives and Rider once again felt the older brother to this lost soul. He marveled that they had stumbled on each other and shook his head. She was a true friend and, as the saying went, had his back.

He looked over to say something and found Red staring fixedly out the stable doors. Following her gaze, he saw Vereta standing to the side of the Tavern. Looking more closely, he could see a dark robed figure just beyond him.

Red stepped away from Savior and lurked to the doors for a better look. Rider came with her and, hand on her shoulder, watched the odd meeting.

"I don't like this." Red said softly. Rider nodded, ready to leap to Vereta's aid. Something about the conversation did not feel right. After several minutes, the robed figure departed around the back of the Tavern. �ereta stood where he was, staring at the ground.

Red wished she could see his face and was about to go see to him when V seemed to come to a decision and, nodding his head, strode off into the woods. "What's going on?" She asked Rider.

"I don't know." He turned back to their horses. "We should follow I think."

"Yes, we should. I did not like the look of the person he was talking too." She rubbed her arms for a second. "My feelings about people are usually right. Vereta's in trouble."

"Perhaps his past has finally caught up to him." Rider went to Legion and began to saddle him. "We'll keep our distance. No need to let him know we're there. If he needs us, we'll be close."

Red considered arguing. She didn't like the thought of leaving Vereta on his own and in trouble but he was right. They didn't know what was going on and charging in might only upset him. "Alright. Let's hurry. I don't want to lose him."

They saddled their mounts quickly and led them out of the stable yard. They could hear Shamus inside the open door of the tavern speaking effusively about something and Red smiled, secretly wishing luck to those inside. He had a knack for waxing poetic about almost anything, she'd noticed.

Once past the tavern and sure they would not be followed, Red and the Rider mounted and tracked Vereta into the forest, hoping they were wrong about the trouble they both sensed for their friend.

[Vereta]

A solitary firefly speedily makes it's way across the woods, slightly illuminating anything that it gets close to. It settled down on a large, drooping leaf that protruded out of the ground and lit the grassy floor brightly. A boot lightly pressed into the ground next to it and it zoomed away into the darkness of the woods. Vereta held an elegant lantern close to his chest as he made his way through a clearing and back into the thickness of the woods. He knew that the sun was unseen in these woods so he decided to bring his lantern with him. He stepped lightly and surely on a path that only he seemed to see. He did not smile. He did not waver. He just walked.

He stopped suddenly in a clearing and stared ahead of him at the lone dark figure that stood looming, its deathly gaze upon him. He stared right back at it, its hood pulled over its eyes, its blackened, tattered robes covered by an equally dark and tattered cloak. The figures cloak fluttered suddenly in a light breeze. Suddenly Vereta's lips parted.

"What do you want, Maris?" He said in a low, hollow voice.

Maris' mouth cracked into a vicious half smile.

"What do I want, indeed." She replied in a dark, mysterious way.

Vereta stared at her blankly.

"No, it isn't what I want at all, is it?" She hissed, mocking. "It's all about what you want."

She let out a short, hollow laugh that sent a shiver down Vereta's back.

"No, Aaron, you tell me what you want." She continued, the unkindly half smile still playing across her lips.

Vereta stood rooted to the ground not knowing what to say.

"...I have no idea what your talking about..." He said suddenly in a whisper.

He glared in a hardened and very cold manner into the hood of the dark creature, his hands clenched and lifted slightly away from his body, jaw clenched and his head lowered a bit as he stared at the unsettling figure that was Maris. Maris' smile faded, but she did not feel threatened or fearful in any way by the young mage. She lifted her arms and pulled her hood back from her head in a gentle manner. Vereta now stared into the cold blue eyes of this vile creature and he felt himself freeze. Something in her eyes... they tell him to run... but he can't. Maris slowly makes her way and stops inches away. She lifts her hand and cups Vereta's cheek with a small delicate hand. Vereta suddenly felt very cold in many ways. Maris eyelids slid halfway down over her eyes as she stared at Vereta.

"My, my, Aaron dear, you haven't changed a bit." She said her finger tracing down his face. Vereta suddenly smiled darkly.

"Shut your mouth, you hag." He hissed, pure hatred slowly oozing out of each word as he said them.

Maris faltered suddenly before smiling her hollow half smile. Vereta walked towards the direction she had once stood. Maris stood with her hand outstretched to the space Vereta's cheek once took up.

"Just show me to the dark lord. I don't want anything to do with you, hag." He hissed out.

"Yes." She said simply.

Vereta walked away and Maris stood with her arms now set at her sides. A wicked smile suddenly ran through her lips and she turned to catch up to him.

[WillieSea]

William woke to Shamus talking loudly to Echo about a treasure he had once found in an old chest out in the wilderness. Echo was listening intently to Shamus while he sorted his trinkets again, some of which William had dropped at his table from his own pack.

Standing up and stretching, William looked around. Grond was still snoring in one of the chairs, the same one he sat in last night. He had listened intently to Grond�s stories and adventures. William was a bit jealous, yes, he had his life back, but it seemed somehow empty, and large portions of his life seemed to be vacant from his memory. He never told anyone about this as he did not want to worry them any more than they already seemed to be.

William did have his youth back, so he could start making new memories. He asked the barkeep if Rider was around. He said that Rider had left early, and after a tussle with some guards who rode into the yard, Rider and Red had ridden off somewhere.

Rushing up to his room, he grabbed his adventuring pack, including his dual swords. It was just like Red and Rider to take off to parts unknown. William figured they must have headed out to the keep without him in fear that the Duke or his men might recognize him.

Looking into his reflection in the small steel mirror in his room, William almost did not recognize himself! His hair was a bright red, almost like fire when he shook his head in disbelief. And his skin had changed to a reddish pink color. What was happening to him?

A memory surfaced, that of his hand when it blasted the logs in the fireplace. Was this what he was going to become, a monster! He shuddered at that thought.

After gearing up, he went downstairs and tossed a bag of gold on the counter as he headed out the front door. He summoned his demon steed, and in one swift movement was upon its back. Thunder reared up on its hind legs, let out a snort and tore off down the road to the castle in a cloud of dust.

How could they have left without him, William wondered. He wanted to help eradicate the evil shape shifters so the world would no longer be blighted with their foul presence. With his mind wandering from thought to thought, he did not see or notice the giant arm swinging his direction from one of the overhead trees until it was too late.

The giant fist clubbed William in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and throwing him from Thunder�s back. Three Ogres stepped out and stood between the horse and its previous rider. William gasped for air that would not come and rolled around on the ground. A fourth Ogre picked up the gasping William and threw him over his shoulder, then ran off into the woods. Blackness took William as he fell unconscious to the sounds of Thunder fighting the ogres, trying to get to him.

William woke up in pitch darkness. He was not trussed up, so he felt around his surroundings. The dirt floor was cold and slightly wet and the few rocks were sharp. The grunts and growls of the Ogres could be heard somewhere off in the distance. The Ogres had also taken all of his belongings, including his clothing. He felt his chest where the broken ribs should have been and found none. There was also no pain associated with the great blow he had taken. It was as if he had completely healed, which was unusual since his rings were gone as well.

Slowly, details in the room started to become visible. At first, William thought that a light was coming closer, but then noticed something odd. There were no shadows! Everything seemed to be illuminating slightly! William shuddered. First his hand, then the mystery healing, and now this!

The room appeared to be a cell in a cave. There were iron bars blocking the little alcove off from a much larger passage that went both directions past the cell. There was also a giant lock barring the door closed. Without his tools, there was no way he could get through that lock.

Glancing around the room, a skeleton from a previous captive lay in the corner. That was certain to happen to him if he did not get out of the cell soon.

William walked over to the cell door, now being able to see as good as if he were in bright moonlight on a cloudless night sky. Several more skeletons could be seen in the hallway. The Ogres must be raiding the countryside and killing travelers on the road.

Suddenly angered by that thought, William grabbed the great iron lock and twisted it off the door and pushed the door open, sending it flying across the tunnel. The screech of twisting metal and the clang of the heavy iron door smashing into the rock wall set the close by Ogres to investigate the noises coming from the tunnel.

The first three Ogres to stumble down the tunnel fell to a blazing hot stream of white hot fire that emanated from William�s out-stretched hands. In a flash of light and a blast of fire, the Ogre�s crumpled to the cavern floor, burning fiercely. Looking down at his hands, he was relieved to see that they were still human.

Walking up the passage through the thick greasy smoke from the still flaming Ogre�s, pieces of the ceiling rained down on his head, William soon came to a door and upon opening the door, two more Ogre�s could be seen rushing for the same door. With his anger rising, William lashed out at the two creatures, and as if in slow motion, they seemed to split open as if cut, and fell to the ground, their insides spilling out.

His hands had seemed to not be hands for a moment of time, but looking at them again, his fingers wiggled back at him.

Continuing through the cavern, he walked on, not really knowing where he was going, but seemingly drawn to something. It was like something was calling out to him, guiding him.

Turning left, right, moving downward deeper into the cave system, William soon came to a part of the cavern that had not been used in thousands of years. Walking through what appeared to be a maze of passages, he finally came upon a stone archway of unknown origin. There was a door in the frame made of the same bluish stone. No lock or door handle could be seen, but a strange indention on the center of the door intrigued William. Looking closer, he notice that it was in the same shape as his hand took on certain occasions, such as the fireplace in the tavern, and the two Ogre�s in the room far above.

Could he call the hand forth to open the door? Was he in control of it, or was it in control of him? The hairs on the back of William�s neck stood on end at that thought.

Looking down at his hands, William willed his hand to change, to metamorphous. The hand obeyed and he put one of them into the door indention.

The door started to glow, and William pulled his hand back, which changed back to human shape. The door soon had cracks of light playing over its surface, and in a flash of light, the door was gone.

Inside the door, a small room waited, with tile floor, marble walls and a stone ceiling. In the center of the room there was a small dais with a wondrous treasure sitting atop it. William walked up to it slowly and whistled softly. Something in him said, �This was it�.

[WhoGuru]

Rider and Red rode quietly through the forest. Far ahead of them, they could see the faint light from Vereta's lamp. They were careful to never get too close with their horses, lest he hear them. But always they remained alert should he need them. They followed him for hours and it seemed as though he knew where he was going.

Red had taken to watching Savior's ears twitch at a fly when Rider's hand reached over and pulled her to a stop. He gestured ahead and they saw that Vereta's light had stopped. In silent agreement, they dismounted, leaving the horses behind. They crept silently closer until they could see their friend.

He stood in a clearing and was not alone. Red's hand dropped to her dagger instinctively. Rider placed a hand over hers, shaking his head.

They could not make out what was being said but the tone of their voices was unmistakable. It was not a happy conversation. The cloaked figure with V pulled its hood back to reveal the cruel, smiling face of a woman. She stalked to Vereta, who seemed rooted to the spot and placed a hand on his face.

Rider's hand left hers, almost as if he too were now considering stepping in. Glancing at him, she saw he was as unhappy about this woman as she was.

Red looked back to V and was distracted, something moved in the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a great orbed spider dropping from the tree onto her shoulder. Without thinking, she drew breath to scream and was shocked into silence by Rider's hand clamping over her mouth.

He reached across and flicked the offending creature off her and into the brush. His head swung down into view then, grinning at her as he silently laughed. With raised brows, he finally took his hand away and wagged a finger at her. Red was humiliated and amused at once. She snorted softly and covered her eyes, imagining how close her pathetic phobia had come to making their presence known.

She looked back out at Vereta then. He had walked away from the unpleasant woman and was heading off into the trees again. Rider tapped her on the shoulder and pointed back at the horses. With a nod, Red followed, still feeling an itch on her shoulder from where the spider had briefly sat. She couldn't stop herself and had to itch at it. Rider caught her at it, and shaking his head, quietly laughing, mounted Legion.

They set off after Vereta, once again following his lamp, and wondered where he would lead them next.

[WindmillTilter]

Shamus was enjoying his morning relaxed in the Tavern's atmosphere. He was quite curious about Echo, the man said very little about himself or his thoughts and seemed to enjoy playing the buffoon. You only had to watch his eyes though to realize there was a lot more going on in there. Never one to pry Shamus did his best to entertain with light hearted if somewhat exaggerated tales of his past, emphasizing the humorous aspects and waiting to see if Echo would reciprocate. He wondered idly how long Grond had stayed up drinking and laughing after he'd turned in. A grin flashed across Shamus' face as he studied the man still sleeping soundly in his char with a death grip on an empty tankard. He'd been considering sneaking up behind the man and yelling 'Brace yourselves, here they come again!', just the kind of vague evocative statement that should spawn images in Grond's dreams as he snapped awake. Immediately afterward he'd pictured being bludgeoned about the head with a tankard by an enraged Grond who wasn't quite awake enough to place himself, and remained sitting.

Arlow happened to be passing by as Shamus commented on his surprise everyone else was still asleep. Giving the table a cursory wipe he said "Naw, Red and Rider have already been in a fight today then traipsed off after that young mage." William came down a bit later and went tearing off soon as he noticed the others were gone." A worried look passed over Arlow's face "Hope he wasn't trying to catch them, cause he headed for the main road which is the opposite way". With a shrug he headed back to the bar.

Shamus had no idea what Red, Rider, and Vereta were up to, but he was worried he knew where William was headed. He'd seemed surprisingly eager to accompany Rider to see the duke. If he assumed they'd left on the planned trip without him, he may well have tried to overtake them. If so he'd wind up alone at the home of a powerful man who wanted him dead and be worried about his friends. Of course there was no way Shamus was going to catch up with him on his particular mount. Still if William had seen no trace of his friends by the time he reached the duke's castle, he'd probably lay low and watch the place for a while trying to figure out what was happening. Eventually he was bound to sneak inside to ensure his friends were not in trouble, and perhaps Shamus could reach him before then. Rising Shamus returned to his room and collected his things.

Shamus was making good time and enjoying the morning when he noticed a large form crumpled on the side of the road. Slowing he approached it cautiously scanning his surroundings, as he got closer Sainmh'ni shied and he recognized the shape as an ogre. Sliding from the saddle Shamus went for a closer look, the creature looked badly battered and its face was crushed in by something shaped very much like a horse hoof. Thunder. Scanning the area it was easy to pick out the tracks of the ogres leaving the roadside. Shamus strung his bow and mounted, riding slowly he followed the tracks into the forest.

Before long the tracks led to a large stone door set into a hillside. Shamus suspected it was once a secret exit, probably from a tunnel system below a castle or keep. Riding Sainmh'ni off a bit he removed his saddle and left him to graze, returning to the entrance on foot. Shamus hesitated inside the entrance, he didn't like the idea of advertising his presence to the ogres with a lit torch. Reaching into his pack he removed an ancient looking amulet on a leather thong. Tracing a symbol on the amulet's face he spoke a single word and light sprang forth from the amulet loosely focused forward. The light didn't carry far and a torch would have provided for better viewing of the darkened tunnels, but it would have also made him visible from farther away.

The myriad scuff marks in the dust bypassed the first few side tunnels and so did Shamus. Reaching a right hand branch that had obviously also seen traffic he stopped to consider. Well better not to leave unexplored possibilities behind me, he thought and turned into the smaller tunnel. Shamus hadn't gone far before he came across the charred corpse of and ogre. Looking at the soot covered wall he thought back to the fireplace at the tavern last night and bent to examine the floor closely. Sure enough there was a track in the dust that appeared to be part of a human footprint complete with toes and it was headed back the way Shamus had just come from. If they took his possessions no wonder Williams pissed he mused to himself doubling back to the main passage.

Shamus continued on and soon found he was following only a single set of prints in the dust. He kept moving deeper and deeper into the tunnels and was beginning to wonder if it would ever end when he saw a stone archway in front of him. The archway had an open door centered in it with nothing but blackness visible beyond. Shamus was approaching the doorway with the amulet raised trying to see within when he heard an amused tone echo from inside the room. "Why don't you light a torch Shamus, and quit stumbling along like a blind man?"

[grond]

The beast is immense, its cursed bloated mass fills the wide chamber in which it lies. The dim chamber in which it sits is its prison it has grown too giant to leave the place of its birth. Several times each day, the beast releases a bright ball of light through one of the mouths on its tentacles. The ball rolls to one of the portals, where it takes the shape of the beast in miniature. The dread youngling then pushes itself through the portal toward its new feeding place, where it feeds until it is needed.

Through those portals the Tenders peer, and occasionally are pushed. These creatures called Tenders see to the needs of the beast, and follow the orders sent down from Above. Their faces are disfigured, their bodies misshapen: with crookedly angled arms, humped backs and bowed legs, bulging eyes or squinting; some are hairless, others furry as if akin to bears. These ill-shaped creatures, the Tenders, are all of one mother. Breeding amongst their own kin, they have the physical curse of that abhorrent activity. And they have little intelligence, but great strength and appetites. Screaming horrible, inhuman screams, some unlucky ones, the butts of cruel jokes, find themselves cast within the reach of one of the countless tentacles, and there is no escape.

Not far above, in a beautifully furnished chamber, an old thin Dark Elf woman sat at a table, sipping daintily from a crystal goblet. Wide baskets surrounded her on the floor. At the door to the chamber stood an Orc in fine armor. Beyond the door in the stone hall was a line of huddled forlorn figures. One by one, each figure was led by the Orc to the Dark Elf. The Orc removed all clothing and items from the prisoner Man or Mer and the old Dark Elf studied the items and seperated them according to value, then placed each in the proper basket. "Wait," the old woman said, upon a glance at the figure. "This ones a Nord. Send him Above. To the Master."

To that the Orc grumbled, "Already been. Not the one he seeks."

The Dark Elf shrugged. "To the Beast then." The naked figure was then led out of the room, and another was brought in.

Shuffling down the hall, the naked figure was led by another Orc to another line. At the head of this line stood a great brute of a man. The hall ended abruptly at his feet. The giant man took hold of another chained nude prisoner. He removed the chains and placed them into a crate. Barely conscious, the prisoner was pushed over the edge. The brute looked down the shaft at the horrid spectacle, and smiled as the beast below devoured the sedate prisoner.

------------

As he slept in his chair by the fire, Grond dreamt that he walked through a Library. Clad as he had been in his youth, in bright plated armor, he walked between sturdy shelves, their tops hidden in mists in the upper distance. His steel boots rang in the silence. He searched the Library, desperate for the answer to a question. He knew the answer lay somewhere within this place, but this was no ordinary library. Every book had a black cover, and none had a title. Confused and desperate for he felt hed die if the answer to his question was not found he began to run through the aisles in growing panic.

Dreams being dreams, Grond did not wonder about the question. He had not worded it. He simply knew there was a question, and ran to find its answer.

Others were with him. Strangers to Grond, they walked or floated past without wings in sad calm as they browsed the library and opened the black books. They stopped Grond in his panicked dash to ask him things. Questions such as How is immortality achieved? from one, or Why does Evil prey on the innocent? from another. Why is there a balance 'tween the good and the evil? When can killing be justified? Why was my daughter taken from me? How can I become a God? Why can I not rest in peace?

These questions and many more besides were whispered to Grond, flooding his ears, becoming a cacophony which drowned his senses as he dashed, frantic, along the endless aisles.

And then, all at once, Grond stood before a familiar creature. It had a bulging body and many tentacles along its base. But this creature was different: this one had armlike things at its top end, with snapping claws. And this creature had many black eyes scattered along its form. The creature then spoke in a voice deep and frightening:

Son of Skyrim, thou knowest me not. Thou art a barbarian of dull thought and small concern. Yet thou wilt be my tool. I am Hermaeus Mora. I possess all answers. Content? Protector? This one will revenge himself upon thee. I care not. Yet I am angered by the beast. No plea he gave at my shrine. Nor supplication. Punishment for defying me will be at thy hand, for he seeks thee, and I laugh at thy danger. Thy hand shall destroy him. The one who throws rubies will kill the object of my anger. The laughing one will let himself fall. The red one shall burn the water. The changed one shall save an enemy.

My tool, thou dost soil this place of knowledge. Thou seekest none? Find the young one, and the one who rides. After, lay the relic at my Shrine. I shall then determine whether thou art worthy of a reward.

Now go. I shall not bring thee here again until thou hast found the question.

With that, the Nord woke. Stunned and thoughtful, Grond wanted to share his dream with one of his companions, but found none of them in the Tavern. He went outside, through the back door. There was a pond a short distance away. He peeled off his clothes and entered the water. The morning sun warmed him as he floated, wondering about Hermaeus Mora, and things with tentacles.

[WillieSea]

Displayed on an armor stand was a full suit of armor, a strange looking armor for sure. There were no joints and no obvious panels, it was a mystery how a person would get into a suit of armor like that. It was all one piece, from neck to toe, and out to the gauntleted hands.

Shamus had finally ignited a torch and came into the room. William could now see in color, and the armor glittered like it was brand new with a golden orange color. A giant tear shaped ruby was inlaid at the throat. A golden circlet sat atop the stand with its giant tear shaped ruby embedded in the front. Shamus whistled upon seeing the magnificent worked armor.

Shamus also noticed that the loin-cloth garbed William had changed some more. His skin had turned a slightly reddish color, and his hair was so bright red that it appears to be on fire!

Shamus studied the armor with William, also noting that there appeared to be no way to put armor such as this on. He then mused about its purpose and why it was in a place like this.

Shamus then noticed that William was standing still in front of the armor, staring, almost unseeing at the armor, as if in a trance. That is when he noticed that the armor was about the same color as William�s skin and hair, only a shade darker. The armor glittered in the firelight and gave off a strange aura of good! Shamus could feel it now, more powerful than before, and that is when he noticed what appeared to be a sparkle in William�s eyes, which upon closer examination, was a dancing flame.

The flame mesmerized Shamus, who could not look away. The flame was not just a flame, it seemed to take on a shape, but what, Shamus wondered.

Just them, William looked directly at Shamus and reached out and touched the armor. Shamus tried to croak out a warning, but it was too late. Besides, Shamus found he was rooted to the spot and unable to speak. The burning eyes, the dancing shape in the flames captivated him.

Upon touching the armor, it flared into an orange flame that covered the armor, and snaked up William�s hand, then his arm and shoulder, and soon covered his entire body in a great burning fire.

Shamus then saw the fire shape clearly in William's eyes; it was that of a dragon with outstretched wings! It was not a menacing sight, more of a welcoming, a protecting vision. The flames covered William and the armor seemed to flow like a liquid up William's arm and torso. The armor was gone from the stand and now worn by his friend, William.

The flames lessened until they went out completely. Shamus was then able to move, but not knowing whether to run or check on his friend's condition, he just stood there, watching.

Something had urged William to reach out and touch the armor. It had been a desire more than a command. What-ever had happened to William on the wayshrine to Akatosh a couple of days ago was not controlling him, but was lending its strength and wisdom to him when asked.

The armor had flowed over William in a refreshing wash, like a warm ocean wave. The armor fitted perfectly around his body, leaving no uncovered flesh. It was very light and extremely mobile, almost like cloth. In fact, the armor reminded him of his old assassin uniform for its freedom of movement and lightness.

Reaching down and touching it, he could feel the metal mesh, and it was like he had touched his own skin. It was like the armor had become a second skin!

Looking once again at Shamus, who stood statue-like staring at him, William reached out to touch Shamus, who recoiled slightly at the movement.

�Are you okay Shamus? William asked.

Shamus opened his mouth to say something, found he was speechless for the first time in his life, and closed his mouth again. He had never heard of such a wondrous piece of armor in his life. It seemed to fit William�s well muscled body like a glove, seeming to give protection with minimal restriction of movement.

Finally finding his voice, Shamus simply asked, "What happened?"

After explaining the wondrous properties of the armor as William understood them to Shamus, Shamus reached out and touched the armor covering William. It was a warm and cool sensation that sent trickles of energy up his arm in a pleasing way.

William flinched and took a step back and laughed, "That tickles!"

Shamus cocked his eyebrows up, "What good is armor that is so sensitive?"

William thought about this and wondered himself. "Give me your dagger," William asked.

Shamus handed over one of his daggers, and William ran the sharp edge over the gauntleted arm. The sound of the steel blade screeching on metal filled the room. Shamus wondered at the sound, as he had never heard a sound like the armor had made. He wondered what type of metal it was made out of in silence.

Shamus then eagerly asked, "Did it hurt? Did you feel anything?"

William shook his head negative and handed the dagger back to Shamus. Apparently the armor would allow William to sense his surroundings, but also protect him from danger.

With a thoughtful look on his face, William said to Shamus, "Lets get out of here, we have to catch up with Red and Rider."

Shamus chuckled, "You must be getting rusty William. They did not head out for the castle; they went in pursuit of Vereta back at the Tavern. They headed off into the woods."

"What?" William yelped! "We have to get back there quickly!"

As William headed for the exit, Shamus took another look around the room. As William left the room, the marble and tile vanished to be replaced with a natural cavern alcove. Then he spied an after glow image in his eyes, that of a great fiery dragon as it flew off, it was Akatosh!

The image faded and Shamus heard William's voice up the tunnel some ways, "Are you coming Shamus?"

Shamus quickly caught up with William and they headed out of the cavern system. No more Ogres appeared to hamper their journey. Once outside, Shamus moved to mount his horse as William summoned Thunder.

Shamus then spied William give the demon horse a great hug around its neck and bury his face deep into its black and gold fur and mane. The horse nuzzled William's head and neck and let out a quiet whinny. Shamus had never seen William so affectionate towards his horse, or anyone for that matter. He had though William used the horse as a tool, more than caring for it. But there seemed to be a deeper bond than he had first assumed between the man and horse. There was probably a story there, that one day Shamus would have to ask the man in the golden orange armor.

William pulled a cloak out of one of the saddle bags and put it over himself. The armor dimmed and suddenly looked like normal Mithril armor, with a slight orange hue to it. He mounted Thunder, who seemed to hold his head higher. Turning to Shamus, William called, "Race you to the Tavern?" and raced off into the trees the way Shamus had arrived.

Shamus kicked his horse into a gallop and raced after William, both of them laughing as they flew through the forest towards the road and the Tavern.

[Vereta]

Vereta walked briskly before slowing down for Maris to catch up. He may not have liked her but she knew the way and he did not. Her hood was lifted over her head once more as she caught up. All the better for Vereta. He didn�t have to look at her traitorus face. Maris Overture was about his age. She was very pale with golden hair and a thin face that gave her a look of innocence but others knew quite well that she wasn�t. Vereta, unfortunately, found this out the hard way. He did not find her presence comforting at all. She had a dangerous aura around her.

Maris stepped ahead of him and he followed her. The trees of the woods became leafless and gnarled as they went on. He looked behind him at the tree he had just passed, full of healthy leaves. He shook his head. They walked on for hours before a large hollowed out oak tree came into view. It gave out such a foul aura that Vereta, who was sensitive to magick, retched. A great wooden door was carved into it and they made their way to it. Vereta felt deathly ill just being close to this place. The smell of rotten dead clang to the air, but the deathly aura effect him the most. Maris, unaffected, stepped right up to the great, dark door and knocked.

[WhoGuru]

Vereta's unsavory companion led them all for hours through dense forest and finally, into a barren forest where the vegetation had withered and died. Rider and Red were forced to leave their horses behind and wait within the treeline. Ahead, they could see the woman, now hooded once more, go to a great hollowed out tree and open a door set in it's side. Vereta had stopped for a moment, bent doubled and heaving from the looks of it.

Red's patience was wearing thin and watching him suffer so was not helping. Again, Rider's hand touched her shoulder, a silent admonition not to interfere...yet. She nodded and they watched as Vereta followed her within the great, wooden door and from their sight.

They waited a short time, scanning their surroundings and finding nothing that would raise an alarm. "Let's go." Rider said softly and led the way out onto the blasted heath and toward the door. His footsteps crunched on a bed of rotting leaves and from behind, he heard Red gag. She straightened as he came back to her, shaking her head.

"Sorry. The smell." She pinched her nose for a moment, breathing through her mouth. Rider had noticed it too, as of something recently dead and long rotting.

"I doubt it will get better inside." He said with some sympathy. "Better?"

She nodded, adding green to her face to match her eyes and stepped ahead, determined to not be overcome again. The smell was hideous and, as Rider predicted, became stronger closer to the tree. At the door, she knelt and peered closely at the handle and, to her surprise, found no obvious locking mechanism. Wary, she grasped the handle and gave it a turn.

Red gasped and slipped forward, knocking her head into the door. Grotesque, rotting hands had erupted from the ground as she turned the handle. They grasped her ankles, sliding up her legs and threw her forward into the door.

Rider saw the dead things reaching and tried to dance out of their grasp. He drew his sword and sliced the few lucky enough to get a grip on him. Red was prone in front of the door, looking a bit dazed. She drew her dagger finally and severed the arm groping for her face with a look of disgust. Rider fought his way to her, dismembering a half dozen of the rotting door guards. He reached Red finally and pushed the door in quickly. He stepped over her and, grabbing hold of her leathers, yanked her out of the foul nest and inside.

Red quickly kicked the door shut on the things and heaved a sigh of relief to be free of it. She sat on the floor beside Rider and looked down at herself, feeling the urge to gag again. Bits of rancid flesh clung to her clothing. She doubted the smell would ever come out.

"That...was disgusting." She murmured softly, now that they were inside. Rider muffled a snort. Red did look a sight. Disheveled, covered in gore and smelling of a charnel house.

"We'll never sneak up on anyone with you smelling like that." He whispered, helping her up. "We're going to have to fix that."

Taking stock of their new surroundings, Red saw they were in a large entry chamber, deserted with several corridors leading off. The faint sound of voices came from somewhere further in and she looked back at Rider, wrinkling her nose at herself.

"Forget it." She muttered. "I'm not sneaking through this place in my underwear. Figure something out." Rider snorted another laugh and would have clapped her on the shoulder, had he not been afraid of some of the odor sloughing off onto him

[WillieSea]

William waited patiently at the road for Shamus to catch up to him. The mortal horse really had no chance at beating Thunder. Several minutes passed, and William was about to go back and look for Shamus when he rode into view. There were twigs and tree leaves in his hair and clothing.

William called out, "Hey, Shamus, are you all right?" with a grin. Shamus shot William a withering glance.

"Come on, let's ride to the Tavern and see if they came back yet." William called back to Shamus as he came out onto the road. Shamus caught up to William and the two rode back down the road to the Tavern, side by side.

Shamus thought about what had happened in the cave. Something profound was happening to William, and it had to do with the divine, Akatosh. A thought came to him, and it was a frightening thought. Shamus looked wide eyed at William.

William was enjoying the ride through the countryside, taking it slow in respect for Shamus. Thunder would prance; wanting to go faster, but also knew the other horse would not be able to catch up. William patted Thunder on the neck. He then saw Shamus staring at him with his mouth partially open. Stopping his horse and looking around, William exclaimed, "What is it Shamus?"

Shamus only whispered one word, "Avatar!"

"What?" William asked, "What are you talking about?"

Shamus then asked, "What is your greatest wish, William?"

William stared at Shamus for a moment and said, "I want to right the wrongs where I can, I want to protect the innocent from the evils of the world."

Shamus saw a flicker of fire in William's eyes. It looked like William was going to get his wish, and possibly a lot more. He also knew the road William had chosen would be a very difficult one, with little chance of true companionship. Well, he would stick by his friend, even though he had only known him a few weeks now, he felt he could truly call William his brother.

Shamus rode ahead at a gallop and said, "Come on brother, we'll race you to the Tavern!"

William and Thunder took off and easily caught up and matched speed with Shamus. They both laughed and talked the whole way back to the Tavern yard. It was evening, so there was no need to hurry out to find Red, Rider and Vereta. Perhaps somebody else was around the Tavern that had more information on their whereabouts.

The two men dismounted, and while Shamus stabled his horse, he noticed William once again clasp Thunder and talk softly to the horse. The horse almost seemed to talk back to William. In a puff of purple smoke, the horse was once again gone and William stood in the yard, looking down the road they had come in on.

Shamus came up to William and said, "Come on, let's get a drink and something in our bellies before we venture out again." The two entered the Tavern together.

The transformation William was making was very interesting to Shamus as a scholar.

William clapped Shamus on the back as they sat down to eat a meal that appeared on their table from the kitchen.

[grond]

As William and Shamus finished their meal, two men came down the stairs. At first the diners took no notice of them: merely patrons of the Tavern going out, they thought. But as the pair came near to their table, William and Shamus gazed at them in wonder. It was Echo and Grond. Their garb was that of two dandies: brightly colored velvet breeches and white stockings, luxurious brocade doublets, and wide-brimmed velvet hats, replete with folded side brim and long feather. It was a sight both shocking and comical. Grond and Echo both smiled sweetly and gallantly. Echo took off his hat and bowed low and with a flourish said, "I trust the evening sees you well, my good sirs?" Then Echo saw the armor William wore. He dropped the pretense. "O! what a fine suit of mail you have, Sir William! Look at poor Shamus there in his dirty rags! We three look stunning! A finer dressed trio might only be found at the Imperial Palace! Are there pockets in that suit?"

Grond lightly slapped Williams back "Ow!," he exclaimed, but his wide grin faded with a sudden insight he had. " 'Tis likely now," the Nord said gravely, "that you could take the hammer out of my hands with one of yours."

"Fear me not, old Knight!" cried William in return. "Nor should any of the other good people who saved me." Looking around at the three men, William said softly, "Never again shall good people fear me. But come!" and his face brightened, "What tale of these fine clothes!"

"It begins with a dream Grond had," began Echo.

They sat at the table and Grond told of the dream he had, and his ideas about it. He recounted every word, remembering it exactly as it had happened. Afterwards they discussed it. Grond explained his ideas: "These are the things I think. I think you, Shamus, have to kill the beastie I hunt with a ruby-tipped arrow. Or not with it, mayhap another weapon - but you do, you know, throw rubies."

William grunted. "True, friend Grond - and unless we find that someone else will do something with some red stones, that may verily be the right answer."

Grond continued. "Echo's the one who'll go over the edge. There may be in this contest some precipice. We must watch for it and keep our laughing friend away. Of course, anyone who's laughing near an edge is in danger."

"Unless," interjected William, "it's not a real fall but a symbolic one. That could mean that the person Mora speaks of allows himself or herself - to go mad, for some purpose."

Grond paused. "Aye, milord; it may be! Very well done, friend! Now, I think this: tis our friend Red, with hair aflame - and more - Red 'twill burn the water. Seems easiest to me, since the next bit is of the changed one, which surely is himself, William." Grond raised his eyebrows toward William, inviting him to counter.

"But it's not just water," replied William, smiling at the Nord's raised eyebrows. "Its the water, which means that it's some kind of important water, either by itself or in conjunction with something important that needs water, or lives in water, or will die in boiling water, or some such. And, though indeed I am changed, others might also become altered in this strange world."

Gronds smile widened. "Finally, someone's looking for vengeance against me - but Ill best him. I think that's crystal clear, but..." He trailed off and waited.

Chuckling despite himself, William continued. "...but the words might be taken differently. Mora said, thy hand shall destroy him. Who is 'him'? Is it the one who seeks revenge? The order of the words defies the implication you made, my stronghearted friend. That came near the end of Moras speech: it might not refer to the one who seeks revenge upon you. Someone else then? And when he said 'thy hand' - you may take it to mean a weapon, but it might not be...have an eye for switches or any other odd things for which youll need your hand. Hermaeus Mora speaks in riddles. He knows the Fates of Men and Mer. He is outside of time as we know it. It would be folly to take his words at face value."

Grond laughed loudly and eyed the ceiling. In a thunderous voice he cried, "Mora!! Hear Sir William do ye? Your riddles be no match for one such as he!!"

The rest of the group laughed with Grond.

Finally William spoke again. "The most obvious thing is this 'thing' which angers Mora. The shapeshifting beastie that Grond saw is probably the beast which angers Mora: if that's so, then it follows that wherever the beast came from or began its life - whatever begat the thing bears the brunt of the deity's anger... But no plea? Nor supplication? My guess is that the beast's creator did not ask for permission to mimic Mora's form, and also this creator bears a grudge against Grond for something he's done to him. And he's physically over it because Mora says Grond is in danger. But from whom? The beast's creator? That would be my guess."

"Well," said the foppishly dressed barbarian, "Echo here and I are going to travel to the Keep direct, and find out exactly who be right."

"And the rich gear?" said William. "The dainty dress? Tell us the tale of this!"

"We're going to be taken alive," said Echo proudly.

[Vereta]

Vereta stood in a cavernous chamber that smelled of rotten flesh and deteriorating foliage. It was just what you'd think a hollowed out tree would look like. Maris walked ahead towards a corridor and didn't wait for him to catch up. Vereta made his way towards her and followed her through the corridor. It lead to a hatch in the floor on the far side of a small 'room.' A table sat near it with necromantic items cluttering it and a few skulls also laid near it, candles with blue flames sat on top of each individual blackened skull. They grinned at him as he walked up to the hatch, right behind Maris.

She opened it up to reveal a flight of stairs made of dark stone that ran into darkness. It was impossible to see the bottom of them. Maris made her way down them quickly and Vereta soon followed at a normal pace. When he reached the bottom he was inside a catacomb. Maris was standing up ahead finally giving him a chance to catch up. He strode over to her and she turned to him, smiling hollowly. He returned her smile with a glare and motioned her to continue. She turned back towards a room with branches of halls leading off in different directions. She walked towards one and entered it and Vereta didn't hesitate to follow. Soon, after following Maris through many winding tunnels they finally entered a large cavern with a high ceiling. It seems that she had lead him deep into the ground. A rocky platform protruded from the ground in front of him and an altar stood at the ledge of it. And there... there stood the Dark Lord himself, his five-man council of necromancers sitting next to him.

Vereta's face turned grim. This was not going to be a healthy encounter. Maris walked towards a staircase that seemed to have been carved into the side of the rocky platform and begin climbing it. Vereta brought his hands together and made a short prayer to the Nine Divines before walking towards the platform stopping halfway and staring up at the Necromantic cultists. The Dark Lord stared down at him with his pale eyes with disdain.

"Maris, why have you brought this filthy creature back into my home?" He asked with deadly authority.

His smokey, deep voice mad Vereta�s hair stand on end.

�Master� Forgive me, but you had asked me to bring him to you.� She answered with her head bowed.

He just looked down at Vereta with his icy leer and said nothing. Suddenly, as Vereta stared up into his eyes he let out a grunt like he was being choked. His eyes rolled back in his head and something else came into view.

--

Vereta watched as the Dark Lord stepped away from his altar and into a hallway in the back of the room. The council of necromancers and Maris soon followed him all but one. The lone figure, whos face was completely obscured in darkness by his hood, stood up and made his way down the carved, stone staircase. It walked up to Vereta who was frozen in place with a look of shock on his face. The necromancers lower jaw suddenly split in two, revealing sharp teeth on each half as he let out an inhuman screech, grabbing hold of Vereta�s shoulders and sinking his deformed jaws into Vereta�s neck. Vereta let out a cry of pain.

--

Vereta stood there rooted to the spot, his hands clammy as cold sweat poored down his face. The necromancer was already walking towards him. When he reached Vereta he proceeded to grab Vereta�s shoulders as in his vision. Vereta suddenly snapped out of his shock and grabbed hold of both the necromancers hands. Flames bursted from them and began to run up the necromancers arms. The necromancer screeched and quickly withdrew as Vereta set himself in a battle stance. He froze a fist and ran at the necromancer punching him roughly in the face three times before the necormancer fell to the floor. The necromancer quickly rose from the ground in the form a black mist before materializing into his former self. He punched Vereta straight on in the chest and he went flying.

Vereta grunted as he hit the floor richocheting off of it and falling once more onto the ground. He gasped for breath as he rose from the ground, his cloak surrounding his body. Vereta ignited his fists on fire and his eyes and mouth were engulf in flames. He let out a warcry as he sprinted towards the necromancer who brought back his fist again for another punch. Vereta leaped over the necromancer�s arm as it shot out towards him and planted his fiery fist into his head. The necromancers head caved in with a startling splat and was engulfed in flames as Vereta continued over the necromancer's head and tumbled to the ground behind him. Vereta gasped as he stared at the necromancer�s body. It laid flat on his back as it burned away. Vereta got up and walked up the stone staircase, in persuit of the other necromancers.

[DarkRider]

The daggered glares Red shot his way quelled the rest of Rider's laughter. He followed her back into the woods as she marched rather unceremoniously to where she had left Savior tied.

"You know..." Rider began, but Red glared at him hard.

"Say one word about staying downwind of V and I will kill you," she interrupted, "I mean it, ranger."

He could tell she was more embarrassed than angry and definitely struggling to maintain her own composure. He curbed his grin and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, turning his back to allow her some privacy. Red was accustomed to living out of her packs and quickly found a change of clothes in Savior's saddle bag. She made fast work of changing and discarded her ruined things in the bushes.

Once prepared to resume their task of following Vereta, Red cinched up Savior's saddle bag and headed over to where the ranger was standing.

"Alright then, you've done the gentlemanly thing, now let's see to Vereta before we lose his trail completely," she said as she came up beside him.

"Shh," was his only response. She looked up at him questioningly. He didn't speak, his brow was furrowed in concentration, his eyes seemed to be locked on some far away point. For a long moment she said nothing, but finally curiosity won out over caution.

"What is it?" she asked in a hushed voice just above a whisper.

Rider took a silent step forward, "I heard something just a moment ago. It was carried on the wind." Red listened, but nothing unusual greeted her ear.

"I hear nothing," she said with a shrug.

Rider remained still. He was uncertain what the sound had been, but something in his heart told him to wait. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees and again a faraway cry was carried through the woods around them. Red gasped.

"I hear it now!" she exclaimed, suddenly dashing off into the woods.

"Red wait!" Rider called to her back as she ran, "We don't know what it is!" She didn't slow and he had no choice but to run after her. Whatever awaited them in the distance they would fare better handling things as a team.

Red broke through the trees and down to a riverbed. The water was racing, fueled by the rain draining down from the highlands, but it's rushing pace didn't stop the thief from charging into it. The ranger emerged from the trees just in time to see her wade into the rapid water.

"By the NIne," he swore under his breath and hurried after her. Red seemed to lose her footing on the slippery rock near the other side, but quickly caught herself and climbed to the embankment. The once distant cry could now be heard easily without the aid of the winds. The ranger growled as he struggled to cross without swimming, and watched his friend dash off down the shore line. For a few minutes, he lost sight of her around the bend, but once he had crossed and followed her trail he spotted her near a wider, but calmer section of the river. Thick patches of high reeds were all along the edges of the water. It was a predator ground, where danger lurked in the long grass waiting to strike any who approached the water's edge to drink.

"Where are you?" Red was saying as she searched in the grass near the water.

"Be careful," Rider warned her, his hand on the hilt of his blade and eyes watching vigilantly for danger. Suddenly Red gasped and stopped searching.

Red glanced over her shoulder at him, "Rider, come here," she said, then crouched and disappeared in the grass before his eyes.

The ranger hurried to cross the reed field to her side and found her crouched near the edge of the water. There, lying in the wet sand in front of Red was an elderly woman. Her breathing was shallow and raspy; she was near death.

"So, hers was the cry we heard," Rider said softly.

"No," Red said, turning toward him, "it was hers," she looked down at a small bundle in her arms. For a moment it was unclear what he was looking at, but then he realized the bundle was moving and a pale innocent face looked up at him. Blonde hair curled around its face and deep blue eyes were set against the blushing pink skin.

"What is..." he stumbled for something to say.

Red shook her head, "It's a baby,� she said softly, �The old woman was holding her to the shoreline."

Rider crouched beside her and set a hand on the old woman, "Madam?" he called to the woman gently reaching in his satchel for a curative of some kind.

The woman coughed once then spoke, "You must...take this child to the mountains, to the City of Whight," she could barely form the words, "she is in grave danger..."

The life force seemed to leave the woman's body and as her strength left her, so did her hold on the shore. They watched as the woman's body was taken by the river. Left with a baby and a strange request.

[WhoGuru]

Red crawled carefully out of the reeds, baby held like spun glass and sat on a nearby boulder. The tiny face stared up at her and seemed enraptured, no longer crying. "What do we do?" She asked the Rider softly. "What about V? We can't just leave him in there and we certainly can't take her with us." She threw him a miserable look.

Rider nodded, considering. "I think we have no choice. You take the babe, as she seems to like you." and he chuckled. "Head back to the Tavern and get help. I'll return to Vereta."

That Red was unhappy with the division of labor was apparent from the scowl on her face. "And I suppose you nominate me nursemaid because I'm a woman? How do you she wont like you?" So saying, she handed the baby to Rider so quickly he was surprised into opening his arms. He looked down into the tiny face and for a moment, saw faces he'd thought long forgotten. They were quickly erased when the babe began howling once more fit to raise the nearby dead. He laughed loudly and passed her back to a now scowling Red. Once in her arms, the child looked up and began gurgling happily again.

"That settles it." He wiped tears from his eyes. "You're heading back to the Tavern. Red gave no further argument, as she knew she was beaten. They set back to the tree together, Rider holding the once more squalling babe over his head as they crossed the river before passing her back.

"Do you know this city of Whight?" Red asked as they walked. "It's not one I'm familiar with."

"Aye." Rider nodded. "Though I confess, I thought it long gone to ruin out on the border." They stopped at the edge of the blasted heath around the tree. Rider turned to Red. "I'll come back for you once Vereta is safe and we'll make to Whight."

She nodded, still unhappy but resigned. Rider watched her until she vanished into the trees with the babe and then crossed onto the heath and for the tree. He was barely there, his hand just touching the handle of the door when a great cry went up from the forest. He stood in shock for a moment and then sprinted away towards the clamor. He nearly ran Red and the babe down. She was pelting through the trees, fear on her face and dagger in her hand as she clutched the tiny girl to her chest.

"Run!" She said breathlessly and went past him. "There's too many!" Rider looked into the woods, wanting to see what had sent her running and found his answer. There must have been over twenty of them. Well armed, fierce creatures in a mish mash of plate armor and chainmail. Their cries carried on the air and seeing that there were too many for him to deal with and keep Red safe as well, he charged across the heath after her.

They reached the river abreast of each other and Rider once more took the child above his head. Red unslung her goblin bow and waited for him to cross. He heard the thwack of her bowstring behind him. Reaching the other side, he turned and saw she'd accounted for three of them before diving into the river after him. She swam across this time, reaching the shore much faster. She took the babe back from Rider and they ran into the hills.

It took them into the fading light of dusk to lose their pursuers. At one point, they had been hard on their heels, arrows landing with ominous thunks in the ground around them. Red had shielded the infant with her body, taking an arrow in the shoulder and running with barely a hitch. Rider too had not emerged unscathed. A lucky bolt caught him in the thigh. Without breaking step with Red, he reached down and snapped off the shaft. Gritting his teeth, he'd carried on, eyes always on Red's pale face and the stream of Red trickling from her arm. They'd not had time to deal with it then, death so close behind them.

Finally, they managed to lose them in a forest more than a mile from the River. They chose a small, protected clearing and Red sank to the grass, babe still clutched to her chest and face white with pain. Rider spent a couple agonizing minutes forcing the shaft of the arrow out the other side of his leg. He took a small vial of healing potion from his pocket and spared a few precious drops for himself, though he would heal the worst of it shortly on his own.

He went to Red then and gently took the babe from her.

"Not as bad as it looks." She said tiredly and smiled for him. Rider set the girl in the grass beside them and went behind Red to get a look at it. The arrow had nearly gone clear through the meaty part of her shoulder. In fact, as he felt with his fingers, he could feel the arrowhead pressing on the other side. She groaned and shook her head. "Just do it. Hurts more if you drag it out."

"Alright." Rider took her at her word. He snapped off the shaft and, taking a firm grip, forced the arrow out the other side. Red made barely a sound and simply collapsed sideways, the pain too much. Rider lay her gently beside the baby and used the last of his potion to start the healing process. It wasn't quite enough but it would do.

He spent an hour finding food for them and scouting to make sure they were still clear. He could find no sign of their pursuers and was grateful for the quiet. He limped back to their dark camp and found Red sitting up, watching the babe sleep beside her. "How are you?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine." He checked the wound. It was still open. "You should finish healing this." He told her. "Your magic is strong enough for that isn't it?" Red's face darkened with something close to fear and she shook her head.

"It's fine. I'll be fine. We'll save it for later if we have need of it." She was unusually adamant about not using it and, for now, Rider let her be. He'd have the truth out of her at some point. He didn't like what he'd seen on her face.

"Alright. We should get moving." He rose and lifted the sleeping child with him. "Can you stand?" Red struggled to her feet and smiled up at him.

"If you can. Let's go. Don't want to get caught here again." They set off silently through the trees in the darkness, hoping to not here a wild call behind them.

[DarkRider]

With the danger behind them for the moment, Rider and Red retraced their steps through the woods and finally reunited with their horses. Red mounted up on Savior while Rider waited until she was seated in the saddle comfortably before handing the now sleeping infant to her.

"How's the arm then?" He asked as the thief settled the little bundle on the saddle in front of her. Red glanced at her wound then nodded surely, "I'll be fine I think. Sure you can handle going on alone?" she asked.

Rider glanced in the direction of the hollowed tree where they'd last seen Vereta, "I can manage," he assured her, "it's you two I'm worried for. The old woman was right, danger follows this child."

"Perhaps taking her back to the tavern isn't the wisest move," Red pointed out.

"So, what then? Head to Wight?" Rider looked confounded, "And what of Vereta? I don't think we should abandon our young friend's quest just yet, he might have need of us."

Red thought silently for a moment. Rider was right. They had followed Vereta because of the stranger he called Maris. Now he was alone in the depths of that hollow, he might have need of them even as they stood uncertain how to move. Do they stay together and help Vereta? What of the child? She couldn't fend for herself even without the evil that pursued her. Red knew as she watched the tiny girl sleeping she could not abandon her. As an assassin, and even as a thief, Red knew there was little chance she would ever have a child of her own. And suddenly there was this little thing that needed her so desperately.

We have to take her to Wight, Rider," Red said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, "This is our responsibility. I will not abandon her."

Rider was going to protest, but the look of pleading in Red's eyes, gave him pause. She needed him to understand, "Alright. We'll take her, but what of Vereta?"

"We do have friends, ranger, you forget too quickly," she reminded him, "All we need to do is find a way to contact them."

The ranger thought for a moment. In his years in the wilds he had learned ways to send messages. If Grond was in the tavern yet, he knew exactly how he could send word of Vereta's plight. Rider dug into his satchel and withdrew a small parchment, a shard of graphite, and a small silver whistle. He put the whistle in his mouth and blew. The note that range from the pipe was almost soundless to the thief's ears, but the sweetness of it seemed to echo all around her. As he continued to blow one note after the next, Rider scribbled madly on the parchment before rolling it neatly and shoving the graphite back into his pack. As the ranger blew once more, the strange whistle seemed to be answered by a screeching call overhead.

Red spotted a beautiful brown and white falcon breaching the canopy over head and soaring down to them. She had wondered about the strange leather glove he wore on his left side, and now it made sense, "You're a falconer."

The ranger extended his arm and the falcon executed a perfect landing; gripping his arm in its talons tightly before ruffling its downy feathers. Rider immediately began tucking the parchment into the tie on the bird's leg, "Her name is Serenity," he explained, "I found her in the wilds a few years ago; another ranger taught me how to train her. I should have thought of it sooner."

"Can she take a message to our friends?" Red asked hopefully.

"She can take a message to Grond," Rider clarified, "I only hope wherever he is he can get the message the rest of the way," he stroked the bird's feathers, "To Grond, bring this message to Grond, Serenity."

The falcon bobbed her head once, almost as in nodding her understanding, and then lifted herself into the air on her massive wings. They watched her fly high into the sky heading back toward the tavern.

"Alright then," Red said as the bird disappeared, "Serenity will bring help for Vereta. Now how do we get to Wight?"

Rider mounted up on Legion, "We ride North. We'll stop off in Bruma to resupply and get something warm for the baby before we head into the mountains. We'll be well into Skyrim before we find the city I should think."

Red turned Savior toward the main road far on the other side of the trees now. Traveling with the infant would be safer on the roads which were frequently patrolled by legionnaires. Rider moved his horse into step behind her. They would leave Vereta on his own for now, but with some luck. Their friends would be able to help.

================================================================

Back at the tavern, Grond was just about to leave with Echo in tow when a great flapping of wings was heard at the window. The big Nord opened the window and a hawk flew into the room, flying once over the heads of those gathered before landing on the bar.

"Tis the Rider's hawk," Grond explained, approaching her slowly, "Oi, where did you come from little darling?" he asked, pulling the parchment from her leg. He handed her a bit of meat from the bar before unraveling the parchment.

"What's it say?" Echo asked trying to peer over Grond's shoulder to no avail.

"It's for William," he answered, catching the former assassin's attention, "He says, Vereta needs some help, but he and Red have been tasked with another quest. He asks that you come to Vereta's aid. Even drew a map marker here."

Grond handed the parchment to William. The former assassin read over the hastily scrawled note then studied the mark. It wasn't too far from the tavern, less than a day's ride. Two roads lay before him, and all eyes in the tavern were waiting to see which one William would choose.

[WillieSea]

Upon seeing the word 'Necromancer', William had little choice. Vereta may be in trouble and the vile Necromancers were involved. William grinned from ear to ear, the necromancers would never know what hit them!

Everyone in the room upon seeing the look on William's face grew agitated. It was not a look you wanted an enemy to have before a fight, and it was almost as bad when your friend had that look. Then, everyone saw a flicker in William's eyes. He stood up and exclaimed, "I am sorry my friends, but Vereta may be in need of help! Red and the Rider cannot help as they have other obligations. I must be off now!"

Before anyone in the Tavern could respond, William was out of his chair and out the door. A second later, a noise, like the screech of a giant bird rang through the room. The Falcon on the bar ducked its head and looked around while those in the room dared not venture outside for a moment for fear of what they might see.

William covered the distance from the Tavern to the place marked on the map in only an hour.

[WhoGuru]

Red and Rider took the roads north with their infant cargo for almost two days without incident. The Legion soldiers were common enough where they passed to deter bandits. They were only a day out of Bruma when Red called back to Rider. "We're out of milk for the baby."

"We'll have to stop then." He racked his memory for Inns nearby and could come up with nothing. As they rode, he spotted a large house, set well back from the road with a sheepfold beside it. "We'll try there." He pointed. Night was coming on and they would soon need a place to rest. Perhaps the farmer would be willing to share his barn. Red waved ahead of him and led off into the trees.

The house was more ramshackle than Rider had thought from the road but had several lights burning on the ground floor. He took the lead and dismounted by the door. A wizened old Bosmer came out to meet them.

"Who's this then?" He was gnarled and resembled an aged tree more than a man. He squinted at them as if to bring them into focus.

"Two travelers and a babe seeking shelter for the night, Sir." Rider smiled, offering his hand. "And perhaps some milk if you've any to spare, for the babe. I'm Rider. That's my friend Red."

The old man peered at both, and at the lump in Red's arms. Finally he smiled. "Aye. You may stay the night. I'll not be known to turn a child out into the night. Dangot is my name." He took Rider's hand in a friendly shake now. "Come in and warm yourselves by the fire when you're ready." With that, he hobbled back into his house.

Rider turned a bemused look at Red.

"You sure you want to stop here?" She asked, wary of the old man for no particular reason.

"We've little choice save another night in the wood at risk." He went to her and she handed the babe down. The blankets were warm to his touch, oddly so and when Red dismounted, he placed a hand to her forehead, quickly batted away. "You're burning up!" He said.

"It's nothing." She replied angrily and began leading Savior towards the barn. Rider took her good arm and stopped her.

"It's not nothing when you wont even heal yourself. Take the babe." He passed her back. "Go inside. I'll see to the horses." and then to you, he added to himself, amazed that she would suffer so rather than simply heal herself. �He brushed down their mounts, all the while muttering that they had more sense that some people he knew. Finally, his temper worked out and Savior and Legion seen to, he took a large healing potion from Legion's bags and headed into the house.

Inside, he found Red set by a fire, the babe in a rough-hewn cradle beside her. Dangot chuckled from the stove. "Twas my daughters, rest her spirit. I'm making stew. There's a bottle of brew by the chair there. Help yourself." Rider nodded and went to sit by Red. She wouldn't look at him. He took the potion and held it out. She couldn't raise her left arm to grasp it and had to turn uncomfortably.

"Why will you not simply heal yourself?" He asked softly. She pulled the stopper from the bottle and spared a glance at their host, busily stirring a large pot. Red shook her head and swallowed the contents. With a grateful sigh, her head dropped back and she nodded off to sleep. Rider felt her skin again. It had felt like warm paper in the yard. Now it was cooling beneath his touch. He checked her wound and found an angry red now fading thanks to his potion. He breathed a sigh and settled himself as Dangot appeared with a bowl and spoon.

"The young Miss, don't look too good." He said and then spoke more softly when he saw her sleeping. "That is to say, she was looking off her color before you came in. Looks a mite better now."

Rider nodded and sniffed the stew. It actually smelled quite good and, starving for a hot meal, he dug in. "We've had a rough couple days." He said and did not elaborate. "Thank you for the hospitality."

Dangot grinned and took up the brew bottle by the chair, settling on a stool by the cradle. He reached two goblets off the nearby table and poured healthy measures for them both. "Tis nothing, Sir. These troubling times, even us Mer must reach out to those in need, though we'd rather play the dandys." He laughed and then chuckled more softly with a glance at the sleeping girls beside him. Seeing they were undisturbed, he continued. "Strange times indeed when gates to Oblivion itself appear all over the countryside. I've heard rumors mind, that that's stopped now. Don't get into the city much these days." He snorted at himself and refilled his goblet.

"Aye." Rider nodded, finishing the last of the very good stew. "The gates are closed now, for the most part." He added, thinking of their last adventure. 'It's a hero's tale I would beg leave to tell another time. I too am in need of rest."

"Quite so." Dangot rose, gesturing Rider to follow him. He was led to a small sleeping chamber off the main room. 'Here ye be. It's not much of a comfortable bed, but close to your friend should she have need in the night. Good night, Rider." Dangot shook his hand again and Rider heard him make his slow way upstairs.

He checked one last time on Red and the babe and then stretched himself out on the lumpy cot and was quickly asleep.

[WillieSea]

As William traveled to join up with Vereta, he wondered how he would ever tell his friends about what was happening to him. Would they accept him? Or would they turn their backs on him? They had to know something was amiss, he could tell by the looks on their faces when he left the tavern. Surprise, fear, and perhaps even revulsion looked back at him.

It was true that they had been through a few adventures together, but deep friendships are slow in coming, and fear of the unknown could make even close friends turn tail and run.

William now knew what had happened to him. At least, he was pretty sure. He would have to visit a certain ivory tower in the hopes of learning more about his situation.

Even if they did reject him, he would do everything he could for them while they let him. A single tear streaked past his face in the wind from his speed of travel. Was he to be alone for the rest of his life? These things and many others were pondered in the short trip he made to seek out his friend Vereta and the vile Necromancers.

Coming in on the marker location, William scanned the area and looked for signs of his friends passing. An army of footsteps could be seen heading off in one direction, past a small river. One particularly dead looking area had a rotten diseased cyprus tree standing by itself. Its withered leaves and branches told its tale. This was probably where Vereta had gone.

Alighting on the ground before the tree, William strode forward and noticed the tracks in the muck going up to the tree in one direction. Finding a door, he listened at it for signs of life, or un-life, on the other side. Detecting none, he opened the door and disjointed hands and arms sprang out of the slime and goo around the tree and grabbed at William's legs, trying to pull him under.

Extending his arms downward, flame issued forth from his palms and engulfed the undead slime, baking the sludge into cracked and hardened earth. The steam billowed upwards from the newly cooked earth, cooking two zombies that had been hiding behind the tree. William barely noticed the fire, heat or steam.

Opening the door again, he stepped inside the dark chamber. William's eyes quickly became accustomed to the dim light. Looking around the small room, a set of stairs leading downward could be seen. Quickly taking the stairs, two at a time, the room at the bottom was soon reached. With his long blue-black daggers in both hands, William advanced into the room.

Screams and groans could be heard down many of the myriad passages. It was impossible to determine which one Vereta had taken. With a deep sigh, William headed down one of the passages that he heard screams echoing down.

The passage ended in a door. The screams of a girl in agony could be heard through the door. William opened the door to see a necromancer torturing a young woodelf with hot pokers. Silently sliding up behind the brute, William drove his blade into his heart with one hand and sliced his neck with the other. The poker fell to the floor with a clang, and the fresh corpse of the necromancer followed it, quietly. The girl was delirious with pain and suffering with burns and welts covering her nearly bare body.

When the hot poker did not continue its touch, and the taunts of the necromancer quieted, Sherena opened her eyes to a lightly flaming man standing before her. At first, frightened, she glanced into the green eyes of the man and felt a calmness take her. The man reached to her with a flaming hand and she flinched. The eyes were so reassuring though, so peaceful.

The flaming hand touched her, but instead of burning, a feeling of relief washed over her, like a warm bath on a cold day. The shackles that held her melted away from her wrists and ankles. The flaming man then stood back while she looked at her healed body!

William felt sorry for the young girl, a deep sadness in his eyes. When she once again looked at him, William told her that is was dangerous outside as bands of undead patrolled the land around the entrance. She was to stay close behind him and follow him out of the den of death, and if they found any more survivors, they would join her to be lead to safety.

Sherena thanked the strange man and gave him a hug of gratitude, then swiftly searched the dead necromancer, salvaging a dagger, coin and bits of clothing. She looked up at the flaming one and asked him his name. He said only one word, William, and then he turned and walked out of the room to the next passage, motioning her to follow at a distance. She followed him as they moved further into the twisting catacombs. She was amazed at the speed and ferocity he displayed in dispatching the necromancers they came across to Sithis's realm.

There was soon a small group of humans and mer following behind their rescuer. One of them, a scholar, whispered to the rest that the name William was an old name derived from Wilhelm, which is composed of the elements will, or desire, and helm, or helmet and protection. They surmised that William was a guardian, a protector, and to the small group of rescued souls, a hero.

William soon came upon a large cavern with a high ceiling. A stone platform rose from the ground in the center of the chamber, and an altar stood at the front of it. Behind it was a dark throne, and several chairs to either side of it. The chamber was currently empty.

There was a passage leading out the back of the room, and a still smoldering carcass lying on the ground in front of the altar. William's heart skipped a beat, was he too late to help his friend Vereta?

Quickly covering the ground to the corpse, William saw the robes of a necromancer that had not burned completely. Breathing a sigh of relief, he motioned to the people following him to move in as the room was safe. He then strode for the back passage with determination.

The lowly necromancers and undead he had come across so far had been easy to neutralize. Certainly, as he went deeper into the lair, the creatures he would face would become more powerful and more numerous. He would have to be ready for that eventuality.

Looking back, those he had rescued looked on him as a savior, a hero, but they also feared him and would flinch away from him. He did not feel the part of a hero, he felt all alone in the world. How could he ever hope to have a relationship with somebody the way he was now? He looked down at his gauntleted hands and arms and shivered slightly. He thought it would be enough to help the weak and less fortunate of the world. But was that really what he chased after his whole life? Or was there something more?

Shaking his head, he proceeded down the dark tunnel.

[DarkRider]

The Rider awoke with a start. Where was he? How long had he slept? His eyes struggled to adjust to the low light as he surveyed his surroundings. The previous day's events slowly trickled their way back into his consciousness aided by the cooing cries of a baby from the other room. He swung his legs out of the rumpled bed, feeling a kink cry for mercy in his back. The ranger gathered his gear and headed into the main heart of the small dwelling. The Bosmer Dangot was sipping tea and speaking in a low cheery voice to Red who was feeding the baby from a soft milk bladder. Their little host hurried to fetch some tea for the ranger when he entered the room. Rider accepted the mug of warm liquid gratefully and settled himself next to the hearth.

The lady here tells me you're heading to the City of Wight with this child? Dangot said.

Rider shot an annoyed glance at his partner before answering, Yes, we are.

Dangot sensed the tension, Do not be worried my new friends, I will tell no one I saw you or where you are taking her. But, I will tell you, she is a precious gem, he reached for the baby and Red handed her to him, Yes you are! he cooed at her.

What do you mean? the ranger asked.

Of course you must know of the Cities of Wight and Drakness? the Bosmer asked.

Rider shrugged, They are called the Watchtowers of Skyriim. They are sister cities that dwell on opposite ends of the borderlands. Both fell into ruins an age ago.

Ah not so, and not into total ruin, Dangot corrected, Long ago it was decided that the two rival cities would take turns ruling over the border lands instead of fighting. For a time, a tenuous peace reigned. But during the last cycle, when it was time for power to return to the City of Wight, King Jabul of the City of Wight had no heir and King Markum of Drakness seized control of the border lands.

Rider sighed, he was ready to get moving, not interested in fairy tales from distant lands, however relevant. Red elbowed him without taking her eyes off the Bosmer. She knew there was something more to this story that a simple tale around the fire hearth.

Dangot seemed to be oblivious to their silent arguing, King Markum sent his soldiers to seize Wight and hold it under martial law. They did so, under the command of Markum's ruthless son, Prince Vargo, and imprisoned King Jubal. It is said the wise King died in his own dungeons.

Dangot, what does this have to do with the baby? Rider asked in exasperation, trying to hurry the story along.

Everything, Dangot suddenly cried, everything! You see, Vargo and his men also took many captives as slaves. Including a beautiful kitchen maid name Jenna. This maid caught Vargo's eye and he kept her as his own. She was his slave for many years until one day she ran away; they say she was pregnant with Vargo's child. King Markum ordered the woman found and murdered before she could give birth to a child, but you see, she must have escaped! This is her child!

Red and Rider exchanged uncertain glances, How do you know? the thief asked uncertainly, after all she could be anyone's child.

Dangot held up the little girl's leg, This birthmark near her ankle, its shape is peculiar do you think? It is the mark of Wight; all heirs of the kingdom bear this mark, he said rubbing the small hourglass shaped mark near the baby's ankle gently.

Rider shook his head, You said Jubal had no heir.

Ah, no legitimate heir, Dangot corrected, the maid Jenna was his daughter, his only child and her child will be heir to both kingdoms and her heirs will unite the watchtowers forever.

The ranger's features grew dark in thought, There's no way Markum and Vargo will allow her to return to Wight.

I certainly do not envy you your mission, Dangot agreed, passing the baby back to Red, you should be leaving now. The forces that hunt this little one will never rest for long.

Red stood and gathered her things before carrying the baby outside. Rider handed a few coins to Dangot and thanked him for his hospitality and his insight into their strange mission. The Bosmer gave him a small pouch of tobacco and another bladder of milk for the baby before waving them off. As the two rode away toward the north, the visage of the Bosmer faded into the visage of a ghostly old man.

Farewell, Princess, my grandchild, the old king said softly, May your new friends wing you to your throne in safety.

[WhoGuru]

They rode in silence for several hours, always heading North. They were soon into foothills, heading ever higher. Rider rode up abreast of Red and found her staring down at the infant princess in her arms.

"We should name her Jenna." She said softly with a sad smile. "Little girls should know their mother's names."

Rider was surprised at the depth of feeling she was showing for this child, so unlike the fiery former assassin he was used to. He wondered if it may have something to do with her own past but was unwilling to brooch the subject yet. He had a feeling it would end in an uncomfortable fight. "Sounds like a good name." He said instead. "I think her mother would have liked that."

Red nodded and continued on, desperate to protect this small life suddenly. Like the Rider, she was alert to every sound in the wilderness around them. They would reach Bruma sometime after nightfall, but the road up was sparsely inhabited and where normally they would have enjoyed the quiet ride through the countryside, both were now on their guard and so instantly aware when all the forest sounds around suddenly stopped.

"Rider." Red whispered, drawing her knife and holding it along her leg in readiness. Rider drew his sword and waited, listening with every nerve of his body. There was nothing. Not the chirp of a bird, nor the rustling of wind in the leaves. Savior and Legion pranced nervously, aware of their rider's tension and ready. Long minutes passed and nothing happened. The forest sounds did not return. Rider edged closer to Red.

"I don't like this. I say we ride hard." He was not about to leave them on the road to explore the surrounding area for the cause of this sudden silence. Whatever it was, if it was waiting on them, better to be speeding away than waiting for the trap to spring.

"Agreed." Red re-sheathed her dagger and took a firm grip on Jenna. "We run for it." She smiled at Rider. "Race you to Bruma." and she gave Savior a kick, lunging away as Rider sped to follow. The horses were happy to finally be given their head and surged up the road neck in neck.

That speed was all that saved them from a badly timed line pulled across their path a moment too late. It caught the back legs of both horses who easily vaulted the obstacle with screams of anger. Rider watched as goblins spilled onto the road ahead of them, nine or ten and in the shadows of the trees beside them, he saw several of the creatures that had chased them across the river. Red pulled Savior to a rearing stop, Legion just beside them and together they drew their weapons.

"You see them in the trees?" Red growled under her breath at him, eyes locked on the creatures ahead.

"I do." He swung his sword, ready for the fight. "Three of them. You any good with a sword?" �He asked suddenly. �Red nodded.

"I am. Shorter blades are easier to conceal." She laughed softly and took the sword Rider passed to her. It was heavier than she was used to but she remembered how to use it. Weaponry was once a specialty of hers. She slid down Saviors side to the road. "Why haven't they attacked yet?"

Rider stayed on Legion, preferring the high ground. "I don't know." He saw the three darker creatures in the woods growl something to the Goblins. With a war cry, they leaped in to attack. Rider gave his own cry, spurring legion forward to meet the assault. He thinned six from the pack as they swept past to Red and went after their masters in the treeline. Glancing back, he found Red swinging the sword expertly and holding her own against the five remaining goblins.

Satisfied she was alright for the moment, he leaped from Legion's back to the creatures and beheaded one while it stood, stunned that the ranger would attack so openly.

The other two, shocked back to action, came viciously for the Rider. Their deadly blades sliced the air where he'd been standing and he took one beneath the arm, severing it. With a quick spin, he turned on the second, lunging beneath its guard in a long line, he skewered its' heart and it fell dead. Rider grunted as the first creatures blade glanced off his gauntlet and he advanced on the thing with a formidable rage, leaving it dead behind him as he stalked back to see to Red. He smiled grimly and wiped the dark blood from his blade.

He found Red with her back to Savior, scanning the roadside for more danger and a pile of goblin bodies around her. He gained new respect for her and sheathed his sword. 'Are you alright?" He asked, trying to see if any of the blood on her leathers was hers.

"Not a scratch, nor Jenna." She said, turning the baby to him. Jenna stared up at the Rider, tears in her eyes from the sounds of battle and melted another corner of his heart. He touched her cheek gently and for once, she didn't cry at the sight of him, attempting a small smile instead. He smiled back at her and looked up at Red.

"That won't be the last. We should get moving quickly." He took the sword he'd loaned to Red and returned to Legion, sliding it home beside the saddle. He swung up and, making sure Red was beside him, they took off at a run for Bruma.

[WillieSea]

The back tunnel split into many corridors leading off in different directions with the dust on the floor being disturbed in all of them but one. Something seemed to be calling him down that dank tunnel, but he had to keep those he had rescued safe. Looking back at them, they sought guidance, they needed a leader. It was always easier to follow someone than to make decisions yourself. So many people were like lambs waiting to be led.

Shaking his head, William tried to clear his thoughts. This place had a dark and foul magic about it, it was depressing and making him doubt his own abilities. The desire to take the unused passage grew in him. Finally making a decision, he took that passage. Come hell or high water, he would take responsibility for his actions. The small group of people cautiously made their way down the passage following William.

This passage seemed different from the others they had been traveling down. No side passages or rooms led off the tunnel; it simply snaked its way deeper and deeper into the earth.

They soon heard a noise, like a wind blowing through the trees. Going further, they came into a long room that was filled with bones piled up just inside the entrance. A billowing fog blew down the long narrow chamber, and at the far end was a golden sword with a large ruby set in the hilt. The skeletons lay piled up at the end of the fog bank.

Taking a bone from the pile, William threw it into the billowing fog. It penetrated a short distance, then electric bolts played across its surface and it was thrown back onto the skeleton pile.

There were several odd weapons mixed in with the bones. William motioned the people following him to equip themselves with the weapons of their choice.

As they did that, William pondered the fog bank, and the sword at the far end. It seemed that the sword was calling to him, beckoning him to claim it. Stepping forward, into the fog bank, he advanced slowly. Step after step, he moved closer to the prize, when a tingling sensation seemed to surround him.

Electric bolts of energy started to play across his body, mostly being dissipated by the armor, but still delivering a great shock. The lightning bolts increased in intensity and William doubled onto the floor in agony, not able to take another step forward or back.

The cloud seemed to drain the life away from William to the point that he was no longer aware of his surroundings. He was pulled to the floor and lost consciousness. He would welcome the embrace of Sithis this time. After all, there was another place waiting for him, possibly a better place than the cruel world he now lived in. His thoughts faded to blackness.

Sherena watched William enter the field, and watched as he slowly made his way through the fog. But then, the bolts of lightning danced around him, and she knew she had to do something. Scanning the bone pile, she found a length of rope and a grapple. Quickly grabbing it up, she expertly swung it around her head and let it go into the field in William's direction, who was now laying face down on the ground. The grapple hit the ground in front of William, and she pulled it, catching William's armor in one of the spikes. The others, finally noticing what was going on, rushed to help pull the rope, which was starting to get charged in the electric field.

Several let go of the rope as the voltage increased, until only Sherena struggled to pull on the rope, desperation was etched on her face and she was breathing hard from the exertion and pain.

The others, feeling ashamed, finally grabbed the rope again and pulled with all their might, finally freeing their savior from the effects of the fog. Sherena rushed to William's side, and checked him for life. Tears welled in her eyes when she detected none, and she cried and pounded her delicate fists on William's chest.

In a gasp, William choked and inhaled a deep breath. The darkness faded and the room slowly stopped spinning and came into focus again. A surprised Sherena hugged him and helped him sit up. Looking back into the fog, William wondered what was necessary to get to the sword that still beckoned to him. He was obviously not invulnerable to all dangers. His near death a second time woke him up to the fact that he was mortal, and like any mortal creature, could be killed if he was stupid. He had ignored that fact and it had almost cost him dearly. He had to remember his training, but so much of his life before was gone from him.

He looked at the crying girl still sobbing on his chest and could feel her tears and soft skin. The armor had become as soft as silk against her face. Perhaps there was a place somewhere for William in this world, he would just have to find it, or make a place.

After Sherena had spent herself, William gently moved her aside and stood up, facing the fog again. Sherena pleaded with him not to go in again. With determination and a reassuring word, William boldly reentered the deadly electric fog. This time, he used his now fiery hands that became claws to slash at the cloud as it came at him, slowly advancing into the mists, clawing the cloud in front of him, causing it to billow around him.

Finally at the altar with the dancing sword before him, the fog weakened and finally quit all together. Reaching his hand out, he commanded the dancing sword to come to him. The sword, seeming to have a mind of its own, slashed and cut the air in front of William, taunting him.

Watching the sword dance, with the eyes of a master assassin, William noticed a pattern in the swords movements. In one quick movement, he ducked under a vicious slash and grabbed the pommel of the sword. The sword flailed wildly in his grip, but the armor seemed to meld with the sword causing the sword to stop its wild dance and obey the commands of its new owner.

The altar then exploded into a blast of fire and debris, destroying the altar and sending flame and rock flying through the air and causing that section of the long room to start collapsing. The rock chunks and fire were deflected by the armor and the suddenly swinging sword, cutting stones out of the air as they whistled at William.

Noticing the immanent danger, William ran for all he was worth back down the room towards the only exit. The people who were gathered at that end, seeing the explosion, dashed for the same door and headed down the tunnel as fast as they could.

Giant stone blocks crashed down from the ceiling behind the quickly retreating William. A marble column collapsed in front of him and forced him to leap onto it and clamber over it to the other side and continue running for the exit.

Breathing hard, he looked back into the room to see it fully collapse as he exited it. They advanced back up the single tunnel back to the catacombs far above.

Upon reaching the small room with many tunnels, William inspected the floor closer and noticed one of the passages was used quite a bit more than the others. There, mixed in with others was the unmistakable footprint of Vereta. With a grin on his face, William quickly advanced through the tunnel. Any creatures in Vereta�s path would be taken care of by him. It would be an easy path to catch up to him now.

[Vereta]

Vereta made his way through the tunnel breathing deeply. He was sure this wasn�t going to be an easy experience because it hadn�t been the entire time he had been going through it. There was no time to rest. He was wary of the tree and the effects it was having on him. The dead tree made him ill though more mentally then physically. He walked down the hall his breathing coming out in short bursts as he finally entered a cavernous room much like the other one except it was filled with alchemical equipment. Shrunken heads, skull candles, and other necromantic items lay and hung all over the place. Vereta made his way through the necromantic laboratory, towards a hallway entrance on the other side of the room. Then a strange chattering sounded out of the gloom of the cavern and Vereta swiftly turned to see a tall man looking at him from across the room.

The creature had a permanent bloody smile that was slashed into his skin from ear to ear. The skin from the cut was sown down with a dark, bloody thread at certain parts and fleshy dead skin hung out from the slash. From under his permanent grin his teeth chattered wildly in an attempt to open his mouth. Vereta shivered just looking at the man. The grinning man advanced towards him and started swinging a chain with a hook at the end over his head. Vereta set in a battle stance and breathed out to calm himself. The creature strode very long strides and was close enough to swing the chain at Vereta in no time. The chain flew at him and Vereta dodged it. The hook scraped the wood off of an unfortunate desk and returned to its owner who caught it with ease.

Vereta�s hands once again burned into flames and he punched the air sending out scorching fire bolts at the chattering man. He dispelled them with a wave of his hand and brought his hand up. As soon as he did that skeletons rose from the earthy ground and charged at Vereta. Vereta stared at the blackened wayward skeletons as they ran at him. He brought his hand forward in a mighty punch and a large bolt of lightning burst from his fist, striking down one of the skeletons. The second one came at him with a rusted iron axe and leaped at him. Vereta grabbed hold of the axe by the blade at the last moment and struggled to keep it from smashing into his face. Blood seeped from his hands as the axe struggled to connect with his face. Finally, Vereta forced the axe away with a gasp and punched the skeletons head right off its shoulder before kicking his legs out from under it. The skeleton fell to the ground and Vereta stomped the skeletons ribs in. The skeleton lied still in the ground and Vereta panted deeply for breath. Suddenly, a rattle rang out and Vereta turned swiftly, wide eyed. �The hook latched itself onto Vereta�s shoulder and the chattering man started to pull on it as Vereta let out an agonizing yell. Vereta grabbed hold of the chain and pulled back his eyes shut in agony as he tried to keep the hook from dislodging his arm.

The hook ran deeply into his skin and suddenly a throaty laugh came from the chattering man. Vereta shivered and gasped as the hook dug deeper into his skin. Vereta finally opened his eyes and looked into the wide, white eyes of the chattering man. Suddenly, the gears in Vereta�s head stopped and he ran straight at the creature, a frozen spike forming out from his fist. He cocked it back as he neared the surprised creature and leaped at him planting the frozen spike right into the forehead of the chattering man. Vereta gulped in large waves of breath as he sat on top of the disgusting, putrid monster and pulled his fist from his forehead. The creature lied on the floor, his mouth agape, the thread ripped from his skin, as he looked up at the ceiling in blind agony. Vereta stood up looking down at his foe, gasping deeply. H looked up right at the tunnel entrance and walked towards it slowly, continuing his trek.

[DarkRider]

The leaves of the canopy rustled oblivious to their travels as Rider and Red made their way steadily along the herding paths. The narrow pathways were neither cobbled nor even and it made traveling slower. Savior snorted his displeasure loudly at having to tromp along this pitted trail scalloped by the hooves of sheep. Rider had voted against traveling the roadways for the rest of this leg of their journey. No doubt, the forces of Drakness knew they had the baby and would be watching the main roads. These trails provided some safety as they were seldom known to anyone besides shepherds, rangers, and other wild folk. Savior was not the only unhappy one, Jenna had begun to fuss for the last several minutes and her fussing had finally turned to wails.

"Can't you keep her quiet," Rider hissed over his shoulder.

"Have you ever tried to change an infant's dressing while posting on a horse along a sheep trail?" Red asked in annoyance, "She's not a ranger, Rider, she's a baby. She needs a break."

Rider sighed, slowing Legion to a stop and turning in his saddle to face her. To his chagrin, Red was no longer behind him, but had turned Savior off the road and into the trees, "Red!" he fairly barked after her, "We don't have time for this. It's getting late, we need to make Bruma by nightfall," he argued. The thief wasn't listening, she simply rode on, muttering something to the baby about the way men are.

Red managed to dismount from Savior with the hold-infant-slide maneuver she had perfected. She glanced back to the sheep trail where Rider was still seated on Legion scowling in her direction. She understood his need for urgency, she shared it, but urgency and danger were not easy concepts to explain to a child, even one as special as the little princess she had been charged with. Red pulled her bag from Savior's saddle and carried Jenna through the trees to the banks of a little river. She laid the child on a soft bed of reed grasses near the water's edge and made quick work of changing her soiled dressing. Red fished an old scarf from her bag and fashioned it into a clean wrap, then turned to dispose of the old dressing. It was probably best to bury the thing. The child's scent might draw the hounds of their pursuers. It was short work to bury the rag in the soft soil, but when Red turned back to retrieve Jenna, the child was gone.

"Oh no!" Red said aloud, searching the grasses for the missing babe; surely she wasn't able to crawl off. A delighted squeal caught her attention and Red looked up to see her precious bundle sailing down river on the bed of reeds, "Jenna!" She called out to the baby, wading into the water, "Rider! The baby!"

Still waiting on the sheep path, Rider heard Red call his name and then the words he had been dreading - The Baby. He spurred Legion into the woods and pulled him up at the shoreline. Red was chest deep in the center of the river, caught in a strange walking swim that could have been humorous under different circumstances. She saw him and started waving her arms and pointing wildly at a bundle of reeds floating lazily downstream several feet in front of her. The bundle was gaining speed as the lazy river caught momentum

"Rider, get the baby!" Red shouted to him.

Rider pushed his charger forward along the bank of the river, hoping to close the gap before getting into the water himself. As he neared her he could hear Jenna cooing and squealing happily as her makeshift boat bobbed up and down on the water's surface; blissfully unaware of her dangerous predicament. Up ahead he saw a fallen log and a chance to cross to the center of the river and snatch her to safety.

"Yes!" he said in victory, leaping from Legion near the log before the horse had even stopped. The ranger deftly crossed the log and lay on his belly to wait to catch her. He could see the reed bundle approaching and as it drew close he pulled it deftly from the water; the baby was gone!

"No!" he shouted in disbelief, his voice cracking slightly over the fear the child had drowned. Then a flicker of movement caught his eye. Several feet up river, Jenna was floating in mid air surrounded by many sparkling light and creatures that looked like large dragonflies from a distance. He jumped into the water toward her, but the creatures fluttered their wings and carried her away to the opposite shore.

Rider whistled, "Legion!" The black warhorse charged into the water, but he wasn't alone. Savior carrying Red tore past him at a full gallop. As Legion passed, Rider caught the saddle and pulled himself up without slowing their pursuit. Red and Rider rode hard through the woods chasing the colored light that fluttered every which way in the half light of the evening. Red flushed with guilt and anger. They had managed to care for Jenna over so many miles; she would never accept losing her this way and would never forgive herself if the child was lost.

[WhoGuru]

They followed the flickering lights and Jenna's giggles into the forest. As fast as they rode, somehow they seemed to gain ground on Red and Rider, moving further into the distance with every stride of their powerful steeds. They plunged out of the trees finally and both horses came up short, rearing in fright at the sheer drop off they had almost leaped into.

"No!" Red yelled. Ahead of them, Jenna floated in her flickering bed across the expanse and to the other side where they quickly vanished from sight. "We have to find a way across."

"That way." the Rider pointed to their right. Red could see the end of the ravine. It was steep and treacherous but if they were careful, they'd make it. "We'll have to leave the horses. Even these fellows can't ride sideways."

"Let's go." Red was panicked and trying very hard to remain calm. She'd lost her. Horrible images of the girl's future danced through her mind mingled with her own memories. She steeled herself to the fear and rode hard to the head of the Ravine. They tied their mounts close by and began the dangerous crossing.

Rider was right, it was a near vertical climb. They were forced to go slowly, pressing themselves to the face as they inched across. Loose pebbles showered down from their feet and secure holds were few and far between. They were both left dangling for seconds at a time more than once and finally reached the other side. Their hands were laced with cuts from the rock but they had no time to spare to heal them.

They ran to the spot they'd last seen the lights. Arriving, there was nothing. No sign of the creatures at all. Red suddenly grabbed Rider's arm and squeezed. "Do you hear that?" she said. He listened intently and finally heard the faintest sound of Jenna's infant laughter. As one, they ran into the trees, homing in on that noise.

They slowed as they once again saw the lights. There were more now. They flitted through the trees ahead and amidst the fluttering of wings, Jenna's giggles floated back to them. Red and Rider moved slowly and silently toward them, not wanting to start another cross country hunt without their mounts. They reached a clearing and, peering around the trees, found Jenna laying happily in her reed bed atop an ancient tree stump and surrounded by the lights. "Fairies!" Red barely breathed the word in her mind. They were rare and not often seen. She was confused now and, looking across to Rider, saw he was as well.

Fairies were good creatures, they certainly wouldn't have taken the babe to harm her and indeed, Jenna was quite happy and content. The little creatures were bobbing above her face in an intricate dance and as Red watched, she realized they were leaving drops of dew on her lips, feeding her.

She motioned to Rider to stay put and with great care, stepped into sight with her hands well away from her weapons. There was a sudden flurry as dozens of the little things surged into the air. Many arrowed for Red who stood firm, allowing them to sweep past her head. She felt the breath light flutter of wings against her cheeks and closed her eyes, waiting for the storm to cease. When it did, she appealed to them.

"Please. Give her back to us. We have to keep her safe." She took another step toward Jenna and was halted by a wall of fairies swirling in her path.

A soft, ethereal voice came to her out of the air. She looked but could never tell which of them was speaking.

"Keep her safe. Precious."

"Yes!" Red agreed. "She is. Please!" and she took another cautious step forward. This time, they parted for her and she reached Jenna with something close to a sob, taking her up and holding her close.

"Saved her." The voice came again. "Little princess, from the dark one in the rushing water."

"What?" Red stared at them as they fluttered around her. "You mean Rider? He's a friend! He was trying to help!"

"Dark one. Looked at him and saw violence in his blood." The voice was stronger now, almost angry. "Saved her."

Red shook her head. "No. He wants to help her. We both do." She wondered now why they had let her approach if they could read a person's blood. Hers was more tainted than most.

"Not tainted." The voice shocked her. It had heard her thoughts. "Lies. Take the princess. Take her home."

"What do you mean, lies?" Red asked, even more confused now but they were leaving.

"Take her with the Dark one." And Rider was shoved out from behind his tree by a cloud of fairies. They laughed and tinkled and flickered and soon vanished into the wood. Red was tempted to chase after them, find out what they had meant but Rider clasped her shoulder, a strange look in his eyes.

"We need to get back to the horses before nightfall." He said quietly. He'd heard what the fairies said and seen the shock on his friend's face. He could read her well enough to see the urge to chase after them. They hadn't the time. "We can't make that crossing back in the dark with the babe. Let's go."

Red suffered for a moment with the need to know more and then Jenna gurgled happily up at her. She heaved a sigh and nodded at Rider. Together, they retraced their frenzied path through the woods and to the ravine. When they reached it, they found an old rope bridge crossing the expanse. Rider began to laugh, then doubled over with the humor of it.

"Those little tricksters!" He said with a gasp. "It was there the whole time and we climbed across." Shaking his head, he gestured Red to lead the way and they crossed back, finding Legion and Savior waiting on the other side as if they knew. They remounted and returned to the sheep paths.

It was nearing dusk when they at long last saw the lights of Bruma ahead of them. Red sighed and thought the city had never looked so well. They smiled at each other, knowing they would finally have a good, safe night's rest within her walls. They urged their tired horses faster now their goal was in sight.

They crossed onto the road proper and Jenna woke from her sleep and began to cry. Red bounced her gently, urging her to shhh but to no avail. As they road, she became more agitated, crying louder.

"Rider. I think something's wrong." Red said to him. He glanced over and snorted.

"Most likely the same something that was wrong down at the river."

"No, I think she senses something." Jenna was full on screaming now and waving her little fists at Red. "She senses something's wrong. I know it."

Rider watched the little girl in her fit of temper and couldn't see how such a small thing would know danger before it appeared. To soothe Red he smiled. "Fine, let's run the rest of the way. They're tired but our boys can manage it."

Red looked relieved and held Jenna closer to her chest as their horses broke into a gallop. They were barely a hundred yards from the castle gates when a cry broke out behind them. Turning, Rider saw a mass of dark, armored figures emerging from the wood they'd just left. They had been found again. He spared a glance for the babe who had felt the danger coming and kicked Legion to greater speed.

As they neared the gates, they heard an alarm go up within the city. Rider and Red fled before the mass of the enemy and met the soldiers at the gates.

"Inside! Quick!" One of them yelled. "Get the little one to safety!" He shoved the gates open and allowed Red to pass through. Rider dismounted, staying back with the soldiers and yelled to Red where she stared after him.

"Keep her safe! I'll stand with these!" He waved and was swallowed by half the cities garrison rushing out to meet the onslaught.