Defenders of Order - The Saga of the Champions
Chapter One - Treesong
The Surefall Glade seems to many like a place of tranquility, peace, and harmony with nature. But there has also always been an undertone of tension, either from poachers attempting to hunt the bears in the caves, or the Bloodsabers from Qeynos infiltrating the sacred boundaries of the Glade. But, starting two years ago, a different kind of tension has been troubling Te'Anara. In addition to protecting the Glade, the druids and rangers residing within this valley were also in charge of hiding and protecting the Jaggedpine Forest. For many years, they had been successful in this task, and the haven of nature and wild beasts had remained pristine. However, two years before this day, something had changed. Now, she was seeking aid from someone who could aid the Jaggedpine Treefolk against a danger it had never before faced. Someone skilled, someone brave, but who?
She stepped out into the cool morning air from inside the hollow of the great tree and took a few deep breaths of air to clear her head. The few she had sent to investigate the problem earlier had to be drug back to the village within the forest, and the mystery remained unresolved. Clearly, she would have to find either a group of adventurers, or a person who had reached their sixtieth season, for anyone less experienced seemed unable to accomplish the task. But few people ever came to the Surefall Glade, and then, most had a very specific thing they wanted from the vendors, and did not stay. She was hoping that the newer druid teleportation spell to the Glade would attract more visitors, but she had not seen many come via that route either. She turned to head back in when the crackle of a teleport gate became audible in the silence.
As if summoned by her thoughts, two figures became visible in a flash, as the portal completed itself. One was a younger half-elven druid, sadly no more than in his thirty-third season. The other though . . . He was a tall human man wearing light blue and gold armor, with a long heavy fur cape, as if he had come from someplace very cold. He had long brown hair, and a somewhat scraggly beard covered his face. But it was his eyes that drew her attention as she walked closer. Though mostly green, there was a slim ring of brown around his pupils. She had never seen eyes like these, eyes that showed experience, yet also a great weariness, and a heavy sadness. In his hand, he held a flaming sword, yet unlike most Fiery Defenders she had seen, this one glowed blue. This . . . this was the kind of man she had been seeking, a careful consideration proved that he was as experienced as she, if not more. A paladin, who surely would not refuse a noble quest . . . or so she hoped.
The paladin opened his coin pouch and took out a handful of platinum coins and handed them to the druid, muttering a word of thanks. In contrast to his hushed manner, the druid grinned and replied, "It was no problem at all my lord, I really wanted to try out this spell after all. You didn't need to pay me, but thanks just the same! I hope you find that place you're looking for, call me if you ever need to get somewhere again!" With that, he cast a gate spell, and faded away shortly after. Now, only the paladin was left. Te'Anara began to raise her hand in a greeting, but he didn't see her, moving to stand outside, looking around with the same tired gaze he gave everything. She stepped softly closer to hear him mutter, "Where now do I go? Where can I find peace? The moon?"
"Excuse me, my lord knight?" the druidess asked, placing a hand on his armored shoulder. He finally seemed to notice her, and his head swiveled around slowly to regard her straight in the eyes. As she studied his face, she realized that he was still a young man, though the fatigue in his eyes and on his face belied his youth. Clearing her throat, she began, "I am in need of your services. You see, we have a problem that only an experienced warrior like yourself can help us solve." The man's eyes narrowed, and he responded gruffly, "That's nice," and attempted to move his shoulder away. Te'Anara was taken aback, but swiftly changed her strategy. "A young elven maiden, a ranger, had attempted to aid us before, but she has not returned, and every adventurer we sent to try and complete her task has been found dead," she explained further, knowing that in the past, virtually every paladin she had talked to would acquiesce almost immediately upon the mention of a maiden in trouble.
But this one was having none of it. "That's a nice story, but I'm not here to listen to fairy tales. In fact, I don't plan on staying here long at all. Good day, madam," he told her, and wrenched his pauldron free of her hand and began stalking off. "She disappeared two years ago, and that's when the singing started!" she called after him desperately, wringing her hands. The paladin stopped short, and stood silently for a few moments, then asked without turning around, "Two years ago? And what's this about singing?"
Sighing with relief, the human woman ran her hands through her long brown hair and told him, "It all started when the animals in the Jaggedpine Forest began acting strangely when they came close to this specific tree near the river. No man could get close, and while women were allowed nearer, most fled, claiming they felt a strange aura when they got close to the tree. A few weeks after this started, a young wood elf came into the glade to purchase some spells, but agreed to help us after listening to our troubles. We allowed her into the forbidden forest and wished her luck. She never came back. Then things got worse. Only a few short hours after she departed, a strange singing could be heard through most of the forest. The animals which had been acting strangely before suddenly became vicious, and continue to attack anyone who gets close to the source of the singing, which we believe to be that same tree. We have sent warriors, wizards, and priests, yet few return unharmed. But none of them were on the same level as you are. Please, I am begging you, what if the animals decide to attack our village instead of being content to guard the tree? I know it is asking much of you, but perhaps if you could ask your guild to come and assist . . . "
No sooner had she mentioned the word 'guild' than the man's eyes changed, going from tired to angry and pained, and his hand tightened on his sword. She stepped back in alarm, fearing he would attack her, but he just stood there, running his fingers along the grip of his sword, almost reverently, before calming down, but his eyes still burned. Quietly, he replied, "I have no guild, but perhaps I will look into this matter." Her heart pounding, Te'Anara almost forgot to speak, but nodded her thanks. "This way," she beckoned, and motioned for him to follow her. She led him towards the falls, and leapt inside the caves behind the rushing water. He made the jump easily, which surprised her, as she didn't expect him to have that kind of agility in his heavy armor. They encountered a few bear cubs as they weaved their way into the back of the cavern, who yelped their distress at the paladin's approach, but were soothed by the druid as she worked her way past them. Finally, they came to a cave where a thin walkway, big enough for only one person led to the other side where a pedestal bearing a glowing maroon stone stood.
In the reddish light, the man stepped forwards and asked, "Has that always been here?" Te'Anara shook her head no, and explained, "It has been erected only recently, almost no one knows of its existence outside of the Glade. It will take you to the Jaggedpine Forest. I will inform the druids there of your coming. I cannot thank you enough. But . . . may I ask your name?" The paladin's mouth tightened, and he responded, "It's not important. I shall find this tree of yours." Before she could protest, he placed his hand upon the stone and was surrounded by light as the pedestal released its magic, sending him to its twin. Te'Anara frowned as the sparkles from the magic faded, but it was replaced by a faint smile. Though his identity was still fairly unknown to her, she felt she could trust this man.
With a dull boom, the paladin reappeared inside a vast forest of tall pines, and the calls of wild beasts could be heard from all directions. The human man scanned the area with interest, for if Te'Anara was right, he was one of a few outsiders ever let into this wood, the Jaggedpine Forest. Off to his right, a few stone buildings stood, where he could see people moving around inside. The doorways had no doors, and the windows were open to the air, with only crosses of stone filling the space. Off behind one of the buildings, he could see a tent, and a man standing near it, but not what was inside of it. As he turned around slowly, taking in the rolling hills and the prevalent mist through all the forest, a sour-faced middle-aged man emerged from the closest building and walked over to the paladin. "You are . . . the man Te'Anara has sent to help us?" he inquired in a nasal voice, almost obviously a banker or clerk by his demeanor. The paladin turned his intense gaze upon the man and nodded.
Shocked by the paladin's expression, the clerk shuddered briefly, and decided it would be wise not to delay him further than necessary. Extending his arm, the clerk pointed out into the forest, and told the younger man, "You shall find the tree in that direction, near the river. I do warn you, if you are not diligent, you shall be set upon by any bear, wolf, griffon, or treant to come across you, especially once you start hearing the song." Amazingly, the paladin's grim mouth turned in a small smirk, and he muttered, "We shall see . . . " and strode off into the forest. Harrumphing indignantly, the clerk returned to his desk inside the building, glad to be rid of the man. "Honestly," he grumbled aloud, as he sat back down in his creaky chair, "What is Te'Anara doing, trusting our affairs to outsiders like this? Much less those who are as full of themselves as this one?"
But, free of having to deal with any more people, the paladin's face had softened considerably as he walked out into the misty forest. The scent of pine was omnipresent, and coupled with the slight dampness of the morning, cast a fragrant smell, which appeared to soothe the man's mood. He walked silently, taking care not to let his flaming sword catch alight any of the trees or brush as he moved along. There were indeed many beasts, as he caught sight of several wolves and bears moving along through the trees, including a few panthers. They paid him little mind as he moved past him, though he had to step out of the flight path of a griffon as it flew past, glaring at the intruder. As he moved deeper into the wood, he spotted what appeared to be glowing balls of flame and light on the ground. Moving closer to one, as he stepped within a few feet, the ball of flame disappeared in a puff of smoke, and in its place stood a white haired woman clad in a gauzy open robe and a clinging purple leotard.
Surprised, the paladin's eyes widened, but quickly realized what this woman was. "A dryad . . . So this is where they live," he said to himself, examining the rare creature. But she paid him little mind, just her eyes following him as he moved. After a while his interest faded, and he continued on. More and more dryads appeared as he walked along, all watching him silently. This audience unnerved him, but he had yet to encounter any trouble. As he was raising his leg to step over a fallen log, he began to catch the first few notes of a song. Clearing the log, he stood still, trying to ascertain where the singing was coming from. Though still soft, the music was carrying clearly from off in the distance. Changing his direction, he moved cautiously towards the noise.
As the song grew in strength, he realized that it was a woman singing. Either she had a very strong voice, or somehow it was carrying well through the woods. As he cleared a hill, he saw a dark object lying on the ground. Tightening his grip on his sword, he moved towards it, only to discover it was a corpse. It had at one point been a half-elven man, but there were many bite and claw marks on the body, and the right arm had been horribly mangled. Checking the wounds, the paladin found that this body had not been lying here more than a day . . . As he stood up, he heard the crack of a branch behind him and to his right.
It was only his speed that saved him as the panther leapt from off the rock towards him. The paladin met the animal in mid-air with a swing from his Fiery Defender, and the animal howled as its flesh and fur seared from the long cut. Leaping off to the side, the cat began circling the man. Following its movement, the human noticed that the cat's eyes looked strange, filmed over, and somehow . . . frightened, as if it was deathly afraid of him, but was being forced to fight. With another yowl, the cat made its second pounce. With a mighty yaulp, the man blocked its claws and began hurriedly casting another spell. His hand glowed red, and a blast of force stunned the panther, rocking it back. Dashing in, the paladin slashed, parried, and riposted expertly. The cat managed to get in a few gashes, but was hopelessly outmatched, and went down with one final snarl. Perturbed by how the cat did not retreat, the paladin began to realize that there might very well be something seriously wrong in these woods. Casting a light healing spell, he moved on.
It was not long before a bear tackled him from behind. Before it could bite his neck and attempt to worry him to death, he threw the heavy ursine off and stunned it before moving in to attack. While parrying the bear's heavy attempts to maul him, the paladin noticed that the bear's eyes had the exact same look as the panther. These beasts would be incredibly dangerous to someone twenty seasons or more below him, but he was able to defeat them with ease. Still, as the bear collapsed to the ground, he realized that he'd never get close to this tree if the attacks continued.
After healing his wounds, his hand traveled to a clasp hidden on the front of his breastplate's abdomen. Unlocking it, he removed the plate that it held on, revealing a strange amulet hanging down inside the shallow cavity. Resting within the armored relief, the talisman was the size of a grown man's palm, the metal silvered and highly reflective. Inside the metal frame, a sigil rested in the midst of green crystal, a triangle made of seven smaller triangles, the outermost three silver, the middle three gold, and the innermost triangle made of pearly crystal that seemed to flicker with inner light.
As he resumed his walking, he realized that his sense of eeriness was not just superstition; it was in the very air, a strange miasma of fear and discomfort. The amulet against his diaphragm kept the odd influence from affecting him further, but even so, he could feel it despite its protection. The singing was still growing louder, but more slowly, as if it were a woman singing at a normal voice, rather than at the top of her ability. Over the sound of the singing, which was in a language he could not recognize, he began to hear the rush of the river somewhere off ahead. Moving down over the next hill, he tensed as he saw a wolf staring at him. But unlike the others, the canine slunk back at his approach, and trotted off warily. He surmised that the protection the amulet was giving him against the paranormal influence also negated the aggression of the animals around him, restoring them to a semblance of normal behavior . . . towards him at least.
Ahead, he saw the trees clearing, and quickened his pace. He emerged next to the river, and the mid-day sun. He hadn't realized it, but his journey had taken longer than he had expected. Looking towards the river, he found it eerily empty...where were the water sprites and turtles he had read about? The singing continued off to his left, so he turned, and was astonished at what he saw. On the far left, there stood a large tree surrounded by mushrooms, and scattered between the mushrooms were several of the same animals he had encountered through the forest. But it was not their presence that perturbed him. For halfway up the trunk of the tree was the figure of a woman seemingly carved from the wood. Her 'hair' seemed made of roots embedded into the bark, and her fingers and toes branched off into more roots reaching back into the tree as well.
He approached warily, and while the animals glared and growled at his approach, none did anything to stop him from stepping right up to the tree, though he narrowly avoided stepping on a large snake curled up at its base. Stepping carefully on the protruding roots, he moved closer to the statue of the woman. As he got close to her, his feet stepped on something that gave a soft clinking sound. Looking down, he saw an abandoned suit of chainmail, a jagged edged sword, a bow, and a quiver still half full of arrows lying on the ground. The metal was rusted, and moss was growing on the arrows, but this was not an ancient relic . . . this had been left here not a decade ago. Looking back to the woman, he noticed that she had long pointed ears. A thought began to grow in his mind . . . What if this was the elf maiden that had disappeared? No woman at least in his memory would leave their clothes lying on the ground and move off never to return.
The singing seemed to emanate from a gap between her lips, which moved with the words, yet she never seemed to need to take breath. He began to doubt again whether or not this . . . thing was alive, but then he saw something curious, there were additional roots attached to her back and limbs by suction cup like mossy pads. The roots seemed to be . . . sucking something out of her, taking slow gulps of whatever it was they were being nourished by. If it were blood, if this was indeed the elf, she'd have been dead ages ago. No, they were feeding on something else. Making up his mind, he snatched at the tendrils and began pulling them loose. They began to fall free and droop against the trunk. There were no wounds that were readily apparent against the smooth wood of the woman's back, but he was sure that they had been draining something valuable from her. As he began to have over two thirds free, suddenly, the ones he had pulled off first lifted up and re-attached themselves.
Frowning, he yanked them off again, and resumed on the others. Yet as he pulled and pulled, they began to attach faster and harder, becoming more difficult to pull loose, almost as if someone was controlling them. Whatever force was behind this, it obviously didn't want to let the woman go. Grimacing, he left the tendrils alone, and tried pulling on the woman's hands. They came free easily enough, the same with her feet, yet she was still being held fast to the tree by the roots making up her long hair. An experimental tug revealed they were held fast. Taking his sword in hand, he whispered softly, "Sorry lady, but I'm going to have to give you a haircut." As he raised the sword to slash at the roots, the tree shuddered and a groaning noise seemed to emanate from the base of the tree.
Without warning, several roots sprouted from the bark and wrapped around his arm, pulling it to the trunk. Gasping in surprise, the paladin was yanked roughly against the tree, but quickly recovered, and wrenched at his arm, but the roots were held fast. In fact, more sprouted and ensnared his legs, and more reached for his other arm. Growling, he muttered a spell, and attempted to stun the tree, but it had no effect. As the roots began to wrap around his left arm, he realized he had no choice left. The white stone at the center of his amulet began to glow faintly, and electricity crackled from the metal. With a boom of thunder, green lightning flashed forth from the man's entire body and incinerated the roots. Dropping free to the ground, panting for breath, the paladin readied his sword. Sure enough, more roots lashed out at him, but he cut through them as they rushed at him.
Still, more and more emerged by the second, and he realized that they weren't trying to kill him, but rather to protect their prize, and maybe capture him in the process. Fighting closer to the spot where he could look up at the woman, he cleared a path with his sword and leapt up to strike at the hair/roots. Shockingly, all he managed to do with the full force of his stroke was to carve a shallow furrow in the roots. As he landed and began to fight off the roots again, he heard a hollow, creaky voice like that of an old man telling him to go away. "Flee this forest, young human. This Feir'Dal is mine . . . There is power within her...Power like, and not like that in you . . . But you are too willful to become part of me, so if you do not go, I will kill you . . . Or pull you right up alongside her!" the voice called.
"I don't think so . . . " the paladin responded. Whatever the power it was referring to, it couldn't seem to handle the special power he had used to free himself, so he gathered up another strike in the palm of his hand. The roots writhed and flew into a flurry, attempting to attack him while defending the tree. The best the paladin could do was to clear a hole that revealed the woman's head and hair. He would have one shot . . . Concentrating, he released the bolt of emerald lightning from his fist, and it cleaved the roots of the woman's hair from the tree at its midsection. With nothing to hold her on anymore, the woman fell free to the ground. The tree shrieked, and the roots abruptly whipped back to the trunk. The man rushed forwards and pulled the stiff woman away to a safe distance as the roots writhed around the tree.
He returned to the tree to finish it off, but something was happening . . . As he got within range, rather than attacking him, the roots withdrew within the trunk and disappeared. A few seconds later, a man's figure emerged from within the tree and fell to the ground. Wondering if it was another victim of the tree, the paladin stepped closer, but soon realized that the man was neither human nor elf. The wood that he was made of had moss and leaves forming a semblance of clothing, and his 'hair' was made up of moss and grass. The man's face was withered and gnarled, looking indeed like an old man. Standing up, the paladin spoke aloud what he discovered this thing was, "A male dryad . . . " Male dryads had not been seen in centuries. When they had been prevalent, they stayed with their trees, while the mobile but mute females wandered through the forest. The males could talk, and were intelligent, but were far from aggressive unless their trees were threatened. But they had all died off, or so it was thought.
Clearly dead, the paladin rifled through the corpse, looking for some sign of what had allowed this dryad to live so long, or what had driven it mad. As he ran his gauntleted hands through the leafy cover on the dryad's torso, he found something hard and resilient. Pulling it free, he examined what he had found. It was a scale of some sort, from an unknown reptile. It didn't look like a snake scale, or that of a lizardman or gator. It was too large to fit any of those creatures, yet was too small to be a dragons' scale. It glittered dully in the light, yet nothing seemed too remarkable about it. Nevertheless, he stuffed it into one of his packs, and returned to the woman's 'statue'. To his surprise, the wood was flaking and peeling off, revealing skin underneath. She was also clearly breathing, her chest rising and falling. Removing his cape, the paladin wrapped her in it and started carrying her back towards where he had come.
As he walked with her through the forest, a noticeable change had been brought about. The air seemed far clearer, almost cheery. The animals seemed back to normal, and went about their daily business. As he journeyed on, the wooden covering that had encased the woman continued to fall off, hair replacing the roots, her joints loosening, teeth revealed as her mouth was able to open further. He realized that she was more of a girl than woman, appearing to be a young adult, perhaps just out of adolescence. The thing that disturbed him was that she had not shown any sign of awareness as they had traveled back to the village. What if she was in a coma, or her mind was gone, having been leeched by the dryad? Putting his concerns out of his mind and a suitable scowl upon his face, they neared the village.
Several Jaggedpine Treefolk had noticed his approach, and were standing outside. Seeing the young woman in his arms, over half of them began to cheer, and the rest smiled and clapped. The bank clerk stood behind them, the corners of his mouth turned down at the paladin's return. Silently, he beckoned for him to carry her to the pedestal. Nodding, the paladin stepped to the magic stone and once more placed his hand on the garnet-like orb. Both he and the elven woman were carried back to the cave in the Glade. Readjusting his grip, the human man realized that Te'Anara was nowhere to be found. She had likely returned to her guildhouse to wait. Carefully walking across the bridge, he strode swiftly through the caves, ignoring the trilling and bawling of the bears he went past.
As he reached the pond, he realized he had a problem. He couldn't leap back across the gap with the elf in his arms, so he'd have to swim and hold her head above the water. Carefully setting her down, he slid into the water, and pulled her feet-first in after him. Holding her about the torso, he paddled over to the shore a few feet away, though he nearly sank with their combined weight. Taking hold of the bank, he braced himself and slung her up onto the ground. This effort caused the cloak to fall open, and he averted his eyes in slight embarrassment as he realized that the wooden shell was almost entirely gone, and he had foolishly left her equipment lying by the tree. Cursing his absentmindedness, he hurriedly pulled himself onto solid ground and wrapped her back up again. Lifting her back up to his chest, he walked back in the direction of the druid guild's tree.
Te'Anara had just handed a guild tunic to a young novice when she saw the paladin's shadow step within the door. Keeping her eyes on the novice, she remarked distantly, "I don't suppose you found something?" The paladin's brusque facade shifted as he smirked briefly but the smile faded swiftly, and he replied, "You might say that . . . Is this the girl?" Te'Anara's head shot up and saw the elf cradled in his arms, along with the crowd gathering behind the man. "You found her?" she exclaimed, rushing over. " . . . Yeah, long story," the paladin quipped as the druid examined the elf's face. Tugging on his arm, she pulled him over to the inn not far away, where he laid her down upon one of the beds. The druid carefully checked the ranger's face and body, noticing the remnants of the dryad's affliction. Still, she seemed much relieved that the young woman appeared to be all right. "Yes," she said finally, "This is Lsanna. The young ranger we sent those two years ago. She's alive."
Much later . . .
"I see," Te'Anara murmured as the paladin finished his story. She turned the odd scale over and over in her hands, yet even she could not identify it. Handing it back to the paladin, she told him, "We cannot thank you enough. The forest is safe again, and we might even be able to open it for other outsiders to explore. The presence of the dryad is a mystery, but perhaps a mystery for another time. If there's anything you require . . . " But the paladin merely waved his hand, and got up from the tree stump where the two had been sitting in the druid's tree. "I was glad to help, but this has delayed me from my original plan, so if you'll excuse me . . . " he said as he began to leave, but Te'Anara leapt to her feet and exclaimed in shock, "You're leaving already? How can you? Can't you at least stay to see if Lsanna wakes up? How callous can you be? At least tell me your name!"
Then, an erudite from the back exclaimed in an excited voice, "Wait, I recognize him! He's the famous dragon-slayer in Velious, Azrael the Three- Lives!" Azrael halted in mid-stride, and his face contorted into a snarl. Marching right up to the erudite, he seized a fistful of the mage's robes and said in a low, dangerous voice, "Never . . . ever . . . say that name again. I am the Three-Lives no longer." Letting him down, he stormed off, ignoring the shouts directed towards him and the cries to stop. As he neared the tunnel leading out of the Glade, he heard cries of, "She's awake! Everyone come quickly!" Azrael stopped, and looked back towards the inn, where people were crowding in. Torn, he gazed back towards the tunnel, but with a growl, he muttered, "Damn it all to hell . . . " and walked back to the inn.
Inside, Lsanna blinked her large green eyes as she stared up at the jubilant faces beaming down at her. She coughed and tried to speak, but her throat was dry and her tongue more so. Te'Anara forced her way to the front and handed her a wooden glass full of water. Taking it, the ranger gulped it all down, gasping at the coldness of the liquid. "Are you all right, Lsanna?" Te'Anara asked worriedly, motioning for the people to move back and give her room. The wood elf pulled the covers up over her bare chest and scanned the room with a confused look on her face. "Where . . . am I?" she asked. "You're back at the inn, I'm afraid you ran into a bit of trouble when we sent you out into the forest," Te'Anara replied gently, with a smile at the understatement of what she had said. Looking around again, the ranger recognized where she was, and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to clear her head. "I . . . The last thing I remember, I was walking up to a tree . . . I heard an old man singing a song . . . Then nothing," she told the human woman.
Realizing the sensitivity of what she would have to tell the young ranger, Te'Anara waved for the crowd to leave. As they filed out the door, she noticed with surprise that Azrael had taken up a place against the wall, now fully dry once again, his cloak held loosely in his hands, still damp apparently. He waved distantly, trying not to look interested, yet she could tell he was concerned. She was beginning to figure him out . . . she suspected his coldness was an act, but she couldn't figure out why he was this way. Judging from his reactions to questions about his past, she figured he had some incident he wanted to move past, but she wasn't about to pressure him. Turning back to Lsanna, she noticed that the Feir'Dal was staring at the paladin with a rapt gaze. She studied him in amazement, taking in his armor, his cloak, traveling up to his bearded face, then finally to his eyes. She too, was taken with their odd appearance, and she found she could not look away. "Who . . . ?" she managed to say after a while.
Tapping her lightly on the shoulder to bring her attention back, Te'Anara explained in the best way she could, "Lsanna, you owe this man your life. You've been held under the power of a maddened creature for two years. Over a dozen people risked their lives to try and save you, but none came close, none but him. This is . . . Azrael." She deliberately left off the second part of the name the mage had given him, which she noticed he appeared relieved at, but he appeared slightly . . . annoyed, as if somehow she had burdened him with something. Lsanna gaped incredulously at that statement, and exclaimed, "Two years?!" Te'Anara smiled sadly, and replied, "Yes, dear. You've got a lot of catching up to do."
To be continued...
Chapter One - Treesong
The Surefall Glade seems to many like a place of tranquility, peace, and harmony with nature. But there has also always been an undertone of tension, either from poachers attempting to hunt the bears in the caves, or the Bloodsabers from Qeynos infiltrating the sacred boundaries of the Glade. But, starting two years ago, a different kind of tension has been troubling Te'Anara. In addition to protecting the Glade, the druids and rangers residing within this valley were also in charge of hiding and protecting the Jaggedpine Forest. For many years, they had been successful in this task, and the haven of nature and wild beasts had remained pristine. However, two years before this day, something had changed. Now, she was seeking aid from someone who could aid the Jaggedpine Treefolk against a danger it had never before faced. Someone skilled, someone brave, but who?
She stepped out into the cool morning air from inside the hollow of the great tree and took a few deep breaths of air to clear her head. The few she had sent to investigate the problem earlier had to be drug back to the village within the forest, and the mystery remained unresolved. Clearly, she would have to find either a group of adventurers, or a person who had reached their sixtieth season, for anyone less experienced seemed unable to accomplish the task. But few people ever came to the Surefall Glade, and then, most had a very specific thing they wanted from the vendors, and did not stay. She was hoping that the newer druid teleportation spell to the Glade would attract more visitors, but she had not seen many come via that route either. She turned to head back in when the crackle of a teleport gate became audible in the silence.
As if summoned by her thoughts, two figures became visible in a flash, as the portal completed itself. One was a younger half-elven druid, sadly no more than in his thirty-third season. The other though . . . He was a tall human man wearing light blue and gold armor, with a long heavy fur cape, as if he had come from someplace very cold. He had long brown hair, and a somewhat scraggly beard covered his face. But it was his eyes that drew her attention as she walked closer. Though mostly green, there was a slim ring of brown around his pupils. She had never seen eyes like these, eyes that showed experience, yet also a great weariness, and a heavy sadness. In his hand, he held a flaming sword, yet unlike most Fiery Defenders she had seen, this one glowed blue. This . . . this was the kind of man she had been seeking, a careful consideration proved that he was as experienced as she, if not more. A paladin, who surely would not refuse a noble quest . . . or so she hoped.
The paladin opened his coin pouch and took out a handful of platinum coins and handed them to the druid, muttering a word of thanks. In contrast to his hushed manner, the druid grinned and replied, "It was no problem at all my lord, I really wanted to try out this spell after all. You didn't need to pay me, but thanks just the same! I hope you find that place you're looking for, call me if you ever need to get somewhere again!" With that, he cast a gate spell, and faded away shortly after. Now, only the paladin was left. Te'Anara began to raise her hand in a greeting, but he didn't see her, moving to stand outside, looking around with the same tired gaze he gave everything. She stepped softly closer to hear him mutter, "Where now do I go? Where can I find peace? The moon?"
"Excuse me, my lord knight?" the druidess asked, placing a hand on his armored shoulder. He finally seemed to notice her, and his head swiveled around slowly to regard her straight in the eyes. As she studied his face, she realized that he was still a young man, though the fatigue in his eyes and on his face belied his youth. Clearing her throat, she began, "I am in need of your services. You see, we have a problem that only an experienced warrior like yourself can help us solve." The man's eyes narrowed, and he responded gruffly, "That's nice," and attempted to move his shoulder away. Te'Anara was taken aback, but swiftly changed her strategy. "A young elven maiden, a ranger, had attempted to aid us before, but she has not returned, and every adventurer we sent to try and complete her task has been found dead," she explained further, knowing that in the past, virtually every paladin she had talked to would acquiesce almost immediately upon the mention of a maiden in trouble.
But this one was having none of it. "That's a nice story, but I'm not here to listen to fairy tales. In fact, I don't plan on staying here long at all. Good day, madam," he told her, and wrenched his pauldron free of her hand and began stalking off. "She disappeared two years ago, and that's when the singing started!" she called after him desperately, wringing her hands. The paladin stopped short, and stood silently for a few moments, then asked without turning around, "Two years ago? And what's this about singing?"
Sighing with relief, the human woman ran her hands through her long brown hair and told him, "It all started when the animals in the Jaggedpine Forest began acting strangely when they came close to this specific tree near the river. No man could get close, and while women were allowed nearer, most fled, claiming they felt a strange aura when they got close to the tree. A few weeks after this started, a young wood elf came into the glade to purchase some spells, but agreed to help us after listening to our troubles. We allowed her into the forbidden forest and wished her luck. She never came back. Then things got worse. Only a few short hours after she departed, a strange singing could be heard through most of the forest. The animals which had been acting strangely before suddenly became vicious, and continue to attack anyone who gets close to the source of the singing, which we believe to be that same tree. We have sent warriors, wizards, and priests, yet few return unharmed. But none of them were on the same level as you are. Please, I am begging you, what if the animals decide to attack our village instead of being content to guard the tree? I know it is asking much of you, but perhaps if you could ask your guild to come and assist . . . "
No sooner had she mentioned the word 'guild' than the man's eyes changed, going from tired to angry and pained, and his hand tightened on his sword. She stepped back in alarm, fearing he would attack her, but he just stood there, running his fingers along the grip of his sword, almost reverently, before calming down, but his eyes still burned. Quietly, he replied, "I have no guild, but perhaps I will look into this matter." Her heart pounding, Te'Anara almost forgot to speak, but nodded her thanks. "This way," she beckoned, and motioned for him to follow her. She led him towards the falls, and leapt inside the caves behind the rushing water. He made the jump easily, which surprised her, as she didn't expect him to have that kind of agility in his heavy armor. They encountered a few bear cubs as they weaved their way into the back of the cavern, who yelped their distress at the paladin's approach, but were soothed by the druid as she worked her way past them. Finally, they came to a cave where a thin walkway, big enough for only one person led to the other side where a pedestal bearing a glowing maroon stone stood.
In the reddish light, the man stepped forwards and asked, "Has that always been here?" Te'Anara shook her head no, and explained, "It has been erected only recently, almost no one knows of its existence outside of the Glade. It will take you to the Jaggedpine Forest. I will inform the druids there of your coming. I cannot thank you enough. But . . . may I ask your name?" The paladin's mouth tightened, and he responded, "It's not important. I shall find this tree of yours." Before she could protest, he placed his hand upon the stone and was surrounded by light as the pedestal released its magic, sending him to its twin. Te'Anara frowned as the sparkles from the magic faded, but it was replaced by a faint smile. Though his identity was still fairly unknown to her, she felt she could trust this man.
With a dull boom, the paladin reappeared inside a vast forest of tall pines, and the calls of wild beasts could be heard from all directions. The human man scanned the area with interest, for if Te'Anara was right, he was one of a few outsiders ever let into this wood, the Jaggedpine Forest. Off to his right, a few stone buildings stood, where he could see people moving around inside. The doorways had no doors, and the windows were open to the air, with only crosses of stone filling the space. Off behind one of the buildings, he could see a tent, and a man standing near it, but not what was inside of it. As he turned around slowly, taking in the rolling hills and the prevalent mist through all the forest, a sour-faced middle-aged man emerged from the closest building and walked over to the paladin. "You are . . . the man Te'Anara has sent to help us?" he inquired in a nasal voice, almost obviously a banker or clerk by his demeanor. The paladin turned his intense gaze upon the man and nodded.
Shocked by the paladin's expression, the clerk shuddered briefly, and decided it would be wise not to delay him further than necessary. Extending his arm, the clerk pointed out into the forest, and told the younger man, "You shall find the tree in that direction, near the river. I do warn you, if you are not diligent, you shall be set upon by any bear, wolf, griffon, or treant to come across you, especially once you start hearing the song." Amazingly, the paladin's grim mouth turned in a small smirk, and he muttered, "We shall see . . . " and strode off into the forest. Harrumphing indignantly, the clerk returned to his desk inside the building, glad to be rid of the man. "Honestly," he grumbled aloud, as he sat back down in his creaky chair, "What is Te'Anara doing, trusting our affairs to outsiders like this? Much less those who are as full of themselves as this one?"
But, free of having to deal with any more people, the paladin's face had softened considerably as he walked out into the misty forest. The scent of pine was omnipresent, and coupled with the slight dampness of the morning, cast a fragrant smell, which appeared to soothe the man's mood. He walked silently, taking care not to let his flaming sword catch alight any of the trees or brush as he moved along. There were indeed many beasts, as he caught sight of several wolves and bears moving along through the trees, including a few panthers. They paid him little mind as he moved past him, though he had to step out of the flight path of a griffon as it flew past, glaring at the intruder. As he moved deeper into the wood, he spotted what appeared to be glowing balls of flame and light on the ground. Moving closer to one, as he stepped within a few feet, the ball of flame disappeared in a puff of smoke, and in its place stood a white haired woman clad in a gauzy open robe and a clinging purple leotard.
Surprised, the paladin's eyes widened, but quickly realized what this woman was. "A dryad . . . So this is where they live," he said to himself, examining the rare creature. But she paid him little mind, just her eyes following him as he moved. After a while his interest faded, and he continued on. More and more dryads appeared as he walked along, all watching him silently. This audience unnerved him, but he had yet to encounter any trouble. As he was raising his leg to step over a fallen log, he began to catch the first few notes of a song. Clearing the log, he stood still, trying to ascertain where the singing was coming from. Though still soft, the music was carrying clearly from off in the distance. Changing his direction, he moved cautiously towards the noise.
As the song grew in strength, he realized that it was a woman singing. Either she had a very strong voice, or somehow it was carrying well through the woods. As he cleared a hill, he saw a dark object lying on the ground. Tightening his grip on his sword, he moved towards it, only to discover it was a corpse. It had at one point been a half-elven man, but there were many bite and claw marks on the body, and the right arm had been horribly mangled. Checking the wounds, the paladin found that this body had not been lying here more than a day . . . As he stood up, he heard the crack of a branch behind him and to his right.
It was only his speed that saved him as the panther leapt from off the rock towards him. The paladin met the animal in mid-air with a swing from his Fiery Defender, and the animal howled as its flesh and fur seared from the long cut. Leaping off to the side, the cat began circling the man. Following its movement, the human noticed that the cat's eyes looked strange, filmed over, and somehow . . . frightened, as if it was deathly afraid of him, but was being forced to fight. With another yowl, the cat made its second pounce. With a mighty yaulp, the man blocked its claws and began hurriedly casting another spell. His hand glowed red, and a blast of force stunned the panther, rocking it back. Dashing in, the paladin slashed, parried, and riposted expertly. The cat managed to get in a few gashes, but was hopelessly outmatched, and went down with one final snarl. Perturbed by how the cat did not retreat, the paladin began to realize that there might very well be something seriously wrong in these woods. Casting a light healing spell, he moved on.
It was not long before a bear tackled him from behind. Before it could bite his neck and attempt to worry him to death, he threw the heavy ursine off and stunned it before moving in to attack. While parrying the bear's heavy attempts to maul him, the paladin noticed that the bear's eyes had the exact same look as the panther. These beasts would be incredibly dangerous to someone twenty seasons or more below him, but he was able to defeat them with ease. Still, as the bear collapsed to the ground, he realized that he'd never get close to this tree if the attacks continued.
After healing his wounds, his hand traveled to a clasp hidden on the front of his breastplate's abdomen. Unlocking it, he removed the plate that it held on, revealing a strange amulet hanging down inside the shallow cavity. Resting within the armored relief, the talisman was the size of a grown man's palm, the metal silvered and highly reflective. Inside the metal frame, a sigil rested in the midst of green crystal, a triangle made of seven smaller triangles, the outermost three silver, the middle three gold, and the innermost triangle made of pearly crystal that seemed to flicker with inner light.
As he resumed his walking, he realized that his sense of eeriness was not just superstition; it was in the very air, a strange miasma of fear and discomfort. The amulet against his diaphragm kept the odd influence from affecting him further, but even so, he could feel it despite its protection. The singing was still growing louder, but more slowly, as if it were a woman singing at a normal voice, rather than at the top of her ability. Over the sound of the singing, which was in a language he could not recognize, he began to hear the rush of the river somewhere off ahead. Moving down over the next hill, he tensed as he saw a wolf staring at him. But unlike the others, the canine slunk back at his approach, and trotted off warily. He surmised that the protection the amulet was giving him against the paranormal influence also negated the aggression of the animals around him, restoring them to a semblance of normal behavior . . . towards him at least.
Ahead, he saw the trees clearing, and quickened his pace. He emerged next to the river, and the mid-day sun. He hadn't realized it, but his journey had taken longer than he had expected. Looking towards the river, he found it eerily empty...where were the water sprites and turtles he had read about? The singing continued off to his left, so he turned, and was astonished at what he saw. On the far left, there stood a large tree surrounded by mushrooms, and scattered between the mushrooms were several of the same animals he had encountered through the forest. But it was not their presence that perturbed him. For halfway up the trunk of the tree was the figure of a woman seemingly carved from the wood. Her 'hair' seemed made of roots embedded into the bark, and her fingers and toes branched off into more roots reaching back into the tree as well.
He approached warily, and while the animals glared and growled at his approach, none did anything to stop him from stepping right up to the tree, though he narrowly avoided stepping on a large snake curled up at its base. Stepping carefully on the protruding roots, he moved closer to the statue of the woman. As he got close to her, his feet stepped on something that gave a soft clinking sound. Looking down, he saw an abandoned suit of chainmail, a jagged edged sword, a bow, and a quiver still half full of arrows lying on the ground. The metal was rusted, and moss was growing on the arrows, but this was not an ancient relic . . . this had been left here not a decade ago. Looking back to the woman, he noticed that she had long pointed ears. A thought began to grow in his mind . . . What if this was the elf maiden that had disappeared? No woman at least in his memory would leave their clothes lying on the ground and move off never to return.
The singing seemed to emanate from a gap between her lips, which moved with the words, yet she never seemed to need to take breath. He began to doubt again whether or not this . . . thing was alive, but then he saw something curious, there were additional roots attached to her back and limbs by suction cup like mossy pads. The roots seemed to be . . . sucking something out of her, taking slow gulps of whatever it was they were being nourished by. If it were blood, if this was indeed the elf, she'd have been dead ages ago. No, they were feeding on something else. Making up his mind, he snatched at the tendrils and began pulling them loose. They began to fall free and droop against the trunk. There were no wounds that were readily apparent against the smooth wood of the woman's back, but he was sure that they had been draining something valuable from her. As he began to have over two thirds free, suddenly, the ones he had pulled off first lifted up and re-attached themselves.
Frowning, he yanked them off again, and resumed on the others. Yet as he pulled and pulled, they began to attach faster and harder, becoming more difficult to pull loose, almost as if someone was controlling them. Whatever force was behind this, it obviously didn't want to let the woman go. Grimacing, he left the tendrils alone, and tried pulling on the woman's hands. They came free easily enough, the same with her feet, yet she was still being held fast to the tree by the roots making up her long hair. An experimental tug revealed they were held fast. Taking his sword in hand, he whispered softly, "Sorry lady, but I'm going to have to give you a haircut." As he raised the sword to slash at the roots, the tree shuddered and a groaning noise seemed to emanate from the base of the tree.
Without warning, several roots sprouted from the bark and wrapped around his arm, pulling it to the trunk. Gasping in surprise, the paladin was yanked roughly against the tree, but quickly recovered, and wrenched at his arm, but the roots were held fast. In fact, more sprouted and ensnared his legs, and more reached for his other arm. Growling, he muttered a spell, and attempted to stun the tree, but it had no effect. As the roots began to wrap around his left arm, he realized he had no choice left. The white stone at the center of his amulet began to glow faintly, and electricity crackled from the metal. With a boom of thunder, green lightning flashed forth from the man's entire body and incinerated the roots. Dropping free to the ground, panting for breath, the paladin readied his sword. Sure enough, more roots lashed out at him, but he cut through them as they rushed at him.
Still, more and more emerged by the second, and he realized that they weren't trying to kill him, but rather to protect their prize, and maybe capture him in the process. Fighting closer to the spot where he could look up at the woman, he cleared a path with his sword and leapt up to strike at the hair/roots. Shockingly, all he managed to do with the full force of his stroke was to carve a shallow furrow in the roots. As he landed and began to fight off the roots again, he heard a hollow, creaky voice like that of an old man telling him to go away. "Flee this forest, young human. This Feir'Dal is mine . . . There is power within her...Power like, and not like that in you . . . But you are too willful to become part of me, so if you do not go, I will kill you . . . Or pull you right up alongside her!" the voice called.
"I don't think so . . . " the paladin responded. Whatever the power it was referring to, it couldn't seem to handle the special power he had used to free himself, so he gathered up another strike in the palm of his hand. The roots writhed and flew into a flurry, attempting to attack him while defending the tree. The best the paladin could do was to clear a hole that revealed the woman's head and hair. He would have one shot . . . Concentrating, he released the bolt of emerald lightning from his fist, and it cleaved the roots of the woman's hair from the tree at its midsection. With nothing to hold her on anymore, the woman fell free to the ground. The tree shrieked, and the roots abruptly whipped back to the trunk. The man rushed forwards and pulled the stiff woman away to a safe distance as the roots writhed around the tree.
He returned to the tree to finish it off, but something was happening . . . As he got within range, rather than attacking him, the roots withdrew within the trunk and disappeared. A few seconds later, a man's figure emerged from within the tree and fell to the ground. Wondering if it was another victim of the tree, the paladin stepped closer, but soon realized that the man was neither human nor elf. The wood that he was made of had moss and leaves forming a semblance of clothing, and his 'hair' was made up of moss and grass. The man's face was withered and gnarled, looking indeed like an old man. Standing up, the paladin spoke aloud what he discovered this thing was, "A male dryad . . . " Male dryads had not been seen in centuries. When they had been prevalent, they stayed with their trees, while the mobile but mute females wandered through the forest. The males could talk, and were intelligent, but were far from aggressive unless their trees were threatened. But they had all died off, or so it was thought.
Clearly dead, the paladin rifled through the corpse, looking for some sign of what had allowed this dryad to live so long, or what had driven it mad. As he ran his gauntleted hands through the leafy cover on the dryad's torso, he found something hard and resilient. Pulling it free, he examined what he had found. It was a scale of some sort, from an unknown reptile. It didn't look like a snake scale, or that of a lizardman or gator. It was too large to fit any of those creatures, yet was too small to be a dragons' scale. It glittered dully in the light, yet nothing seemed too remarkable about it. Nevertheless, he stuffed it into one of his packs, and returned to the woman's 'statue'. To his surprise, the wood was flaking and peeling off, revealing skin underneath. She was also clearly breathing, her chest rising and falling. Removing his cape, the paladin wrapped her in it and started carrying her back towards where he had come.
As he walked with her through the forest, a noticeable change had been brought about. The air seemed far clearer, almost cheery. The animals seemed back to normal, and went about their daily business. As he journeyed on, the wooden covering that had encased the woman continued to fall off, hair replacing the roots, her joints loosening, teeth revealed as her mouth was able to open further. He realized that she was more of a girl than woman, appearing to be a young adult, perhaps just out of adolescence. The thing that disturbed him was that she had not shown any sign of awareness as they had traveled back to the village. What if she was in a coma, or her mind was gone, having been leeched by the dryad? Putting his concerns out of his mind and a suitable scowl upon his face, they neared the village.
Several Jaggedpine Treefolk had noticed his approach, and were standing outside. Seeing the young woman in his arms, over half of them began to cheer, and the rest smiled and clapped. The bank clerk stood behind them, the corners of his mouth turned down at the paladin's return. Silently, he beckoned for him to carry her to the pedestal. Nodding, the paladin stepped to the magic stone and once more placed his hand on the garnet-like orb. Both he and the elven woman were carried back to the cave in the Glade. Readjusting his grip, the human man realized that Te'Anara was nowhere to be found. She had likely returned to her guildhouse to wait. Carefully walking across the bridge, he strode swiftly through the caves, ignoring the trilling and bawling of the bears he went past.
As he reached the pond, he realized he had a problem. He couldn't leap back across the gap with the elf in his arms, so he'd have to swim and hold her head above the water. Carefully setting her down, he slid into the water, and pulled her feet-first in after him. Holding her about the torso, he paddled over to the shore a few feet away, though he nearly sank with their combined weight. Taking hold of the bank, he braced himself and slung her up onto the ground. This effort caused the cloak to fall open, and he averted his eyes in slight embarrassment as he realized that the wooden shell was almost entirely gone, and he had foolishly left her equipment lying by the tree. Cursing his absentmindedness, he hurriedly pulled himself onto solid ground and wrapped her back up again. Lifting her back up to his chest, he walked back in the direction of the druid guild's tree.
Te'Anara had just handed a guild tunic to a young novice when she saw the paladin's shadow step within the door. Keeping her eyes on the novice, she remarked distantly, "I don't suppose you found something?" The paladin's brusque facade shifted as he smirked briefly but the smile faded swiftly, and he replied, "You might say that . . . Is this the girl?" Te'Anara's head shot up and saw the elf cradled in his arms, along with the crowd gathering behind the man. "You found her?" she exclaimed, rushing over. " . . . Yeah, long story," the paladin quipped as the druid examined the elf's face. Tugging on his arm, she pulled him over to the inn not far away, where he laid her down upon one of the beds. The druid carefully checked the ranger's face and body, noticing the remnants of the dryad's affliction. Still, she seemed much relieved that the young woman appeared to be all right. "Yes," she said finally, "This is Lsanna. The young ranger we sent those two years ago. She's alive."
Much later . . .
"I see," Te'Anara murmured as the paladin finished his story. She turned the odd scale over and over in her hands, yet even she could not identify it. Handing it back to the paladin, she told him, "We cannot thank you enough. The forest is safe again, and we might even be able to open it for other outsiders to explore. The presence of the dryad is a mystery, but perhaps a mystery for another time. If there's anything you require . . . " But the paladin merely waved his hand, and got up from the tree stump where the two had been sitting in the druid's tree. "I was glad to help, but this has delayed me from my original plan, so if you'll excuse me . . . " he said as he began to leave, but Te'Anara leapt to her feet and exclaimed in shock, "You're leaving already? How can you? Can't you at least stay to see if Lsanna wakes up? How callous can you be? At least tell me your name!"
Then, an erudite from the back exclaimed in an excited voice, "Wait, I recognize him! He's the famous dragon-slayer in Velious, Azrael the Three- Lives!" Azrael halted in mid-stride, and his face contorted into a snarl. Marching right up to the erudite, he seized a fistful of the mage's robes and said in a low, dangerous voice, "Never . . . ever . . . say that name again. I am the Three-Lives no longer." Letting him down, he stormed off, ignoring the shouts directed towards him and the cries to stop. As he neared the tunnel leading out of the Glade, he heard cries of, "She's awake! Everyone come quickly!" Azrael stopped, and looked back towards the inn, where people were crowding in. Torn, he gazed back towards the tunnel, but with a growl, he muttered, "Damn it all to hell . . . " and walked back to the inn.
Inside, Lsanna blinked her large green eyes as she stared up at the jubilant faces beaming down at her. She coughed and tried to speak, but her throat was dry and her tongue more so. Te'Anara forced her way to the front and handed her a wooden glass full of water. Taking it, the ranger gulped it all down, gasping at the coldness of the liquid. "Are you all right, Lsanna?" Te'Anara asked worriedly, motioning for the people to move back and give her room. The wood elf pulled the covers up over her bare chest and scanned the room with a confused look on her face. "Where . . . am I?" she asked. "You're back at the inn, I'm afraid you ran into a bit of trouble when we sent you out into the forest," Te'Anara replied gently, with a smile at the understatement of what she had said. Looking around again, the ranger recognized where she was, and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to clear her head. "I . . . The last thing I remember, I was walking up to a tree . . . I heard an old man singing a song . . . Then nothing," she told the human woman.
Realizing the sensitivity of what she would have to tell the young ranger, Te'Anara waved for the crowd to leave. As they filed out the door, she noticed with surprise that Azrael had taken up a place against the wall, now fully dry once again, his cloak held loosely in his hands, still damp apparently. He waved distantly, trying not to look interested, yet she could tell he was concerned. She was beginning to figure him out . . . she suspected his coldness was an act, but she couldn't figure out why he was this way. Judging from his reactions to questions about his past, she figured he had some incident he wanted to move past, but she wasn't about to pressure him. Turning back to Lsanna, she noticed that the Feir'Dal was staring at the paladin with a rapt gaze. She studied him in amazement, taking in his armor, his cloak, traveling up to his bearded face, then finally to his eyes. She too, was taken with their odd appearance, and she found she could not look away. "Who . . . ?" she managed to say after a while.
Tapping her lightly on the shoulder to bring her attention back, Te'Anara explained in the best way she could, "Lsanna, you owe this man your life. You've been held under the power of a maddened creature for two years. Over a dozen people risked their lives to try and save you, but none came close, none but him. This is . . . Azrael." She deliberately left off the second part of the name the mage had given him, which she noticed he appeared relieved at, but he appeared slightly . . . annoyed, as if somehow she had burdened him with something. Lsanna gaped incredulously at that statement, and exclaimed, "Two years?!" Te'Anara smiled sadly, and replied, "Yes, dear. You've got a lot of catching up to do."
To be continued...