Chapter 11 – Blood and Steel

The next few hours in camp moved quickly as introductions were made between Sayeth and the others, although Sindel was quick to deflect questions about the girl's plight. Sindel was also very vague to the others on how he would be helping her out exactly. Some introductions went better than others, with only a cold nod coming from Dellya, which was returned in kind by Sayeth.

Once the pleasantries were complete, the adventuring company of Second Chances went about their business in final preparation for getting on with the mission in hand. Dellya went over several routes and game trails that offered them the best way to get to the area they sought. Even their newest addition, Sayeth, added to this discussion, as she had wandered near the mysterious Darkmoor Plots once or twice in her time in this part of the deep woods. Sayeth also offered some advice on certain dark weeds that grew near there that could leave cuts on horses legs, as well as their riders, and that were to be avoided once in that area.

Ozwulf had taken a moment with Sindel and Dellya, off away from the others earlier in the afternoon. He went over at great length the details Sister Plyasenth had offered in their earlier discussion. The pair were more than a little excited about the mission they had been offered and in trying to find information regarding these stolen magical gems.

After this discussion was completed, Ozwulf and Sindel divulged some of the mission details with Sayeth, but kept much of the specifics very vague on purpose. They did not speak of the Eyes of the Maker nor did they offer any of the particular details about their lore, the family history they were told about the Tu'Navall family or of any of the compensation details to the pale girl. Ozwulf and Sindel had agreed to treat her as a welcome tag along amongst the group, nothing more, nothing less. This seemed to sit ok with Sayeth, who fought back her natural curiosity for the time being, as Sindel had pleaded with her to do so earlier that day.

Finally, a couple of hours or so before sunset, all was as it should be and the company was set to leave. Sindel mounted his horse with a wide grin and set out upon the trail in the lead of the company. Each adventurer fell in behind, in a single strung out line, as their horses galloped along the forested game trail. Dellya believed they could find shelter along a winding river late in the afternoon, just before sunset and could look to make camp there. Then tomorrow, a hard ride to the north would have them close to the Darkmoor lands before sunset. It was certainly looking to be an easy trek.

Sunset came and went with the company finding the river bank as planned and making camp just thereafter. As the fire was set, Sindel sat down next to Sayeth to begin some instruction on her upcoming tribulations. Ozwulf was deep in conversation with Dellya about the local landmarks and plant life around this area. And the large Avarri warrior, Acanthus, was busy edging his weapons before making rounds about the perimeter of the camp. Watches were to be set this night as Ozwulf thought it best to practice defense as the company moved into unknown territory. It would also give the newer members of the company a chance to learn some of the ways of the adventurer's road, as Ozwulf had promised Dellya time and time again.

"Have you a charm, or an implement," Sindel asked Sayeth as they sat close to the fire to ward off the cooling air from the nearby riverbank.

Sayeth offered nothing but a silent stare in answer to the elf's question. She blinked, showing no sign of understanding of what Sindel had just asked her.

"You know, like a staff, or a gemstone, or a wand," Sindel continued, "like mine."

Sindel reached into the folds of his padded tunic and pulled forth his wand. It was a thin, dark stained wooden object about the length of Acanthus' forearm, but as thin as the elf's pinky finger. It tapered towards one end and Dhalish etched symbols could be seen along its thicker base end.

Sayeth's eyes were wide with excitement as Sindel revealed the thin, fragile looking item to her.

"Nay, nothing of the sort," Sayeth answered, "how does it work? Can I use it . . . or touch it . . . or try it? How can I make one of my own or does one just look and find one of them? Can you find one even? Where would you even look for one?"

Sindel chuckled at the girls' many questions as they rattled off to him. Sayeth did not seem to mind the amused Sindel as she continued to stare, slack jawed, at the thin piece of tapered wood in the elf's hand.

"It is a focus of sorts you see," Sindel said, "a crafted and attuned piece of arcanery that reacts to your will and bends your arcane energies. At least it works that way if you are a mage. It eases the magics from your spirit and focuses it for use in the spells you work to cast."

"How . . . amazing," Sayeth breathed out as she caressed the wand with her fingers.

"Think of it as ones water skin, if he or she were thirsty for some water," Sindel explained.

"If the river over there was all the source of magic around us to tap into, or all the magic within you so to speak, and you wanted to drink a sip of it to quench your thirst, we would first need a tool to do so."

"Like a cup or the water skin then, as you mentioned," Sayeth asked?

"Yes, exactly, something to tap into it and funnel it to you with a bit more finesse if you will. You of course could go and bob your head underneath the rushing river and drink from it as a whole, but it might drown you if you do so or at least leave you soaked and choking for air. At the bare minimum, it would not be the best way to get a single drink, right?"

"A focus can help a mage dip into his or her raw spirit essence. It can help parcel it in small and potent refined pieces instead of just sticking your head underneath a river of magic and getting drowned or choked by it."

"I think I see your point," Sayeth replied, still eyeing the wand with an intense stare.

"But why . . . a wand? I have seen traveling Mages of the Circle carry long staves with ornate workings and the like. Why not a great polished staff, adorned with feathers and other finery? It would seem much more powerful and intimidating, at least to me."

"You just answered your own question silly girl," Sindel mocked.

Sayeth looked puzzled.

"Intimidating, boastful, loud and brash," Sindel continued, "a staff is a statement, carried by those wishing to make one."

"A Circle Mage, adorned in station and ceremony, carries a staff to announce his presence and show off his station. An Apostate prefers to seek a different reaction when traveling about the lands of Ferelden."

"A concealed wand allows a mage like me to keep my magical origins quite concealed as I travel about the lands, which in return, allows me to keep my head resting upon my chiseled heroic looking shoulders," Sindel said with a wink.

"Make sense now," Sindel asked?

The girl nodded, understanding the need for concealment and discretion over an offering of public power and intimidation.

"So we will need to set to crafting you one of these baubles or trying to find you one of your own through other means if luck would have it," Sindel said.

"And you know how to do such a thing," Sayeth asked?

"Craft one I mean?"

"Uhm . . . no, not exactly," Sindel replied with a shrug, "but there is a first time for everything I always say."

"So, can I practice with yours then, until I have my own that is," Sayeth asked?

"Well, in theory, yes, a mage can use another mage's implement, although it should always be done with great care and concern. Implements are all unique and can focus and conduct arcane energies with different application and temperament," Sindel answered.

"But, my wand is off limits to you, at least for now . . . understood," Sindel asked, his eyes narrowing into a stare at the pale girl?

Sayeth nodded her head a time or two but was clearly disheartened by Sindel's command. She looked as if she had just been offered her heart's desire one minute, only to have it taken away the next.

"Now then, another question, have you ever been . . . uhm, over there," Sindel asked tentatively, gesturing across the camp to the other side of the camp fire?

Sayeth caught his meaning immediately, her face moving from sullen dejection to more of a state of surprise and anxiety.

"To the Fade you mean," Sayeth whispered?

"Yes, to the Fade," Sindel answered.

"Sometimes, those that are new to magic within them come to the Fade in dreams or in nightmares, as their spirit power grows in tune with their bodies."

"Do you ever remember vivid pieces of dreams, of places that looked close to where you fell asleep, but then seemed twisted or distorted somehow as you looked upon them in your dream?"

"Blurred perhaps, hazy even? It would appear as light and darkness were present at the same time, twisted in shadowy wrestling forms, often covered in a sap like color, almost like honey," Sindel asked?

"Yes, I have been there . . . a few times, more often of late," Sayeth answered.

"And in recent days, I have even found myself there while I was awake, although it only happened once and it was just for a short time I think."

Sindel's eyes grew wide, revealing his concern. It appeared that Sayeth might be farther along in her spiritual transformations than he had first guessed.

"Good," Sindel offered, not wishing to alarm Sayeth any more than she already was.

"The more you find yourself on the other side of the Veil and in realization that you are there, the more your mind and spirit can be honed for defense against that place. The Fade can be very disorientating to the newly awakened. And even to the most experienced mage, the Fade is a place filled with terror and the things of nightmares."

"You make it sound as if the very place was set to attack and eat me Sindel elf," Sayeth said.

"Yes, I did," Sindel whispered back.

Sindel went about pulling forth a small wrapped torch from his pack near where he was sitting. He lit the torch and propped it upon a rock near the camp fire. Sindel then whistled softly towards Ozwulf who was still in deep conversation with Dellya regarding a local root with medicinal herbal properties. Ozwulf heard the soft whistle and glanced over at Sindel and the lit torch.

Ozwulf nodded to the elf in acknowledgment.

"What's going on," Dellya asked Ozwulf, their conversation interrupted, although she was not sure why?

"Just a bit o' elvish magic an' wisdom Sindel be teachin' to the new pale lass," Ozwulf answered. "A bit o' dream walkin' as the elf be puttin' it."

Seeing the nod from Ozwulf, Sindel grabbed Sayeth by the forearm gently; his wand still loosely gripped within his other hand. Sindel closed his eyes and pushed his arcane energies out about him in a deep focused rush.

Sayeth felt the wash of arcane energies sweep over and around her almost instantly, as they extended from Sindel through his hand, up her arm, and all around her!

Then there was a dropping feeling, as if falling quickly from a short tree branch down to ground, but then stopping short of hitting the ground below. It was dizzying and made the girl light headed for a moment.

Sayeth opened her eyes and knew immediately that she was in the Fade. The camp site was much the same, although Sayeth did not see Acanthus, Ozwulf, or Dellya anymore, at least not clearly. The light of the camp fire twisted and distorted the surroundings; offering more shadows than flaming light and it danced in hues of pale yellows and faded orange reds. The darkness around the perimeter of the camp had become lighter and now appeared as a perpetual twilight in its ambient glow. Details beyond the camp were just a muddled twisting hue of dark honey color, mixed with ambiguous shadows and shapes.

A fluttering group of moving dark colored shadows the size of large plumbs caught Sayeth's eyes as they entered the camp, just a few paces from the girl. The half dozen moving spots of darkness and color moved closer to Sayeth and her eyes went wide with surprise.

One of the shadow color spots stopped moving for a moment and its blur became a clearer picture of its form. The creature was a butterfly outline, framed in dark inky shadow, a dull colored silhouette of sorts. Its eyes were a purple deep blue that matched its markings on its shadowy black blue wings. It paused for but a moment before rejoining its band and the small host of fluttering spots of shadow moved off into the deeper blur beyond the camp. Sayeth exhaled her breath and began looking about with excitement, looking for more of what she had just witnessed.

"It is beautiful . . ." Sayeth whispered, excitement washing over her small face.

"So you say," Sindel replied.

The elf was still gripping her arm gently and sitting right next to her, perched comfortably upon the stone as if he were still in the group's camp.

Sindel stared about in all directions to ensure he and Sayeth remained alone, at least for the time being. He then breathed in the magical energies of the Fade and then flushed them out in measured control in all directions. Sindel was well practiced in this spell and he pushed his magical senses all around them in this area of the Fade in order to sense any possible dangers near them. After a few moments, Sindel was quite sure the area was safe, at least for now, and he relaxed a bit and released Sayeth from his gentle grasp.

"Simply amazing," Sayeth said, "can you come and go as you will? Why wouldn't you just stay here all the time? And with you, I seem awake here, not drowsy or half-drunk with sleep."

"It is so much more beautiful than our world!"

Sindel's eyebrows arched up at that last bit from Sayeth. He had never thought the Fade to be overly beautiful, as it always came across to him as a dreary dark place. The Fade was a muted cousin of the elf's own realms, often murky and out of focus to the naked eye. And Sindel had seen plenty in this place that was the stuff of true nightmares. Beauty was not a word the elf usually associated with this dark place.

"It is difficult to master, the comings and goings that is," Sindel replied to the excited girl.

"Practice, patience, focus, and willpower make it all possible. Even one that is experienced can have trouble if their energies are low, both in the comings and goings. That is why sometimes you can drift into and out of the Fade when you dream sleep. It is all about your energies and your state of will," Sindel said to Sayeth as she continued to listen intently.

"A mage run away named Ember, from Red Cliff, told me that you needed Lyrium juice to do such things," Sayeth added.

"Lyrium juice," Sindel chuckled, "juice like from a berry?"

Sindel laughed at the thought for a moment before collecting himself.

"Well, Lyrium is an entirely different chapter of study my girl and one I am fond of, might I add."

"And good Ember of Red Cliff is correct; Lyrium is widely used for the untrained and inexperienced to power the mages spirit enough to cross into this place. And it is still used by the experienced mage to offer longer and deeper travels about the Fade, but for our purposes here today, it is not needed."

"Will power and calm here can be your greatest ally's and your wits your strongest weapon," Sindel said in a serious tone.

"Might is nothing here when you are but a speck of dust to those who hold true power in this place. Never forget that or lose sight of that fact Sayeth."

"Of course," Sayeth promised as she continued to look about in awe.

And just as quickly as they had arrived, Sayeth and Sindel returned to the camp, Ozwulf and Dellya watching on as they blinked awake. Their bodies were on the ground, not so far away from where they had been sitting on the other side. They were both lying there, as if they had taken a nap and just woken up from a deep still slumber.

Sayeth stood up quickly and glanced about her surroundings, feeling a slight disorientation rush over her.

"Relax," Sindel offered to her calmly. "It will pass."

Sayeth nodded and stared about for a moment in a hushed silence as she tried to remain upright. The girl's legs felt wobbly beneath her. She quickly sat back down again near Sindel. Even Dellya seemed impressed with the level of magic and the quick trip from this realm to the other that Sindel had just demonstrated.

"Maker's breath," Dellya whispered, "did they just travel to the . . . the uhm . . . that other place?"

"Indeed," Sindel replied before Ozwulf could answer, still sitting comfortably near the fire as he watched over the woozy Sayeth.

"And you can do that whenever you want Sindel," Dellya asked with some hint of trepidation and fascination both coming forward at the same time.

"Well . . . not whenever I want, it is a challenge, that much is for sure," Sindel explained.

"One has to find it to be a choice time and situation. There are rules and precautions to explore, levels of control to maintain and such."

"What happened to our bodies, were we here or there, how did that work," Sayeth blurted out staring over at Ozwulf and Dellya?

"Here," Ozwulf answered, "an' there as well, or so the elf always be tellin' me."

"That's not exactly correct," Sindel interrupted, "our spirits are there while our bodies are here."

"Amazing," Sayeth replied in quiet awe.

"Amazin' she be callin' it," Ozwulf chuckled sarcastically.

"There be times when the two o' us be in dangerous places an' needed every bit o' caution between us to be stayin' 'live til the mornin'. An' there I be tryin' to whisper awake that blasted elf fer his watch or to be gettin' up quick as I may be hearin' somethin' out in the dark o' night! But nay, he be there but not really there, if ye know what I be meanin'."

"Amazin'? Nay, annoyin', dangerous, those be the words that be springin' to me mind, an' downright unpredictable if ye be askin' me!"

Dellya shot a look over at Sindel with a raised eyebrow. The elf's face showed that Ozwulf's accusation truly had happened in the past, perhaps more than once even.

"You cannot control it then," Dellya asked Sindel?

"Of course I can," Sindel replied as his face tilted into a strange quizzical look. "But, like I said, there are good times and not so good times when it occurs."

"That seems confusing," Dellya said.

"Ye think," Ozwulf snickered?

"There are levels of control involved, as I said. Sleeping happens to be one of those times where there are less levels of control. But, it does not happen with great frequency, I can assure you."

Ozwulf rolled his large dwarven eyes fully up into his head while Dellya was still staring at Sindel with a look of shock.

"Magic is never completely controllable or predictable," Sindel offered to Dellya. "The quicker you come to terms with that, the quicker you can begin to limit your exposure to such random and dangerous events."

"Random dangerous events? You mean Demons, right," Sayeth asked?

"No, I mean dangerous events, as I said the first time" Sindel corrected.

"Demons are ever present in the Fade and the Fade is always a part of magic. But, there are many dangers associated with the magical arts. One could find themselves playing with raw Lyrium while crafting a new rune stone and blow themselves into pieces while handling it. One could attempt to use magic to heal a bleeding wound, only to lose focus and make the wound larger and bleed that mage and his patient to their own deaths."

"Demon's and the Fade get their own special chapter of danger in the lore of using magic I'm afraid, but they are not the only danger in regards to magic."

"Well, if it's all the same to me, just give me a bow and a sharp blade," Dellya said.

"That be me girl," Ozwulf beamed.

"Understandable Dellya," Sindel retorted stoically, "but remember, Sayeth and I were not given a choice between a bow or a dagger and our magics."

"We were born this way and have little say in that matter. The danger is a part of our life, not a choice we made when born to this world. There have been many nights in my life I have often thought much the same as you . . . give me that dagger any day."

"Not I," Sayeth said defiantly, a dreamy look washing over her face as she said it.

"I feel everything is as it should be, like destiny."

It was Dellya's turn to roll her eyes.

Dellya then leaned back and returned to her handful of gathered shrubs she had been showing Ozwulf earlier, seemingly done with this conversation. Ozwulf took note and left the conversation where it had ended, returning as well to his discussion with Dellya.

Sindel took his cue and let Sayeth know that she had seen enough for one night and that it was time to turn in before their watch later in the night. Sayeth resisted the command at first, but then drifted off to rest shortly after. Sindel did the same, letting the thoughts of magic and the Fade be pushed back to the far corners of his thoughts for now.

The next morning saw the companions set to an early and quick breaking of camp. Their ride before high noon was spent at a rapid pace as all seemed eager to push further away from Loggerswald and closer to their destination deeper in the northern woods. Much of the morning pace was set by Acanthus, who had remained quiet and tense all morning as the group continued towards the unknown.

It was just after high noon when Acanthus slowed his gallop from his lead position and signaled for the group to slow to a halt. Ozwulf was a close second and at first, believed the Avarri was slowing their pace to water the horses and take a break from the many hours of riding they had amassed so far along the forest trail. The thought vanished quickly as Ozwulf glanced ahead to where Acanthus was looking.

About fifty paces ahead, along the trail that wound through a meadow and a group of large trees ahead, both companions could see something blocking the grassy path. It was a large brown, chestnut mare. It was saddled and did not seem injured, but was also unattended to. The others began slowing their horses as well as they approached behind Ozwulf and Acanthus.

"Should we be concerned," Sindel asked quietly as he spotted the lone mare on the trail ahead.

"Yes," Acanthus answered, keeping to a low tone.

The Avarri's eyes were scanning the perimeter around the lone meandering horse, looking for any clue to the whereabouts of its rider.

"There," Ozwulf whispered, nodding to an area past the horse and to the east about a hundred paces or more into the thicker woods.

Sindel and Acanthus both strained their vision into the shadowy dense area of brush to the east of the trail. Movement could be seen, but just barely.

"What is it," Acanthus asked?

"A man, crawling I think," Sindel offered.

"Aye, an' he be wounded me be thinkin'," Ozwulf whispered. "He be movin' as if it be a mighty struggle fer him to be movin' at all."

"Yes, I see that as well now," Sindel added as the figure crawled another pace, pulling itself with a single outstretched arm, causing the brush to move like a snake were winding its way through it.

Dellya and Sayeth had pulled up behind Sindel and dismounted. Sensing the others anxiety, Dellya unslung her bow from her back to a readied position. She strained her eyes to see what the others were looking at in the shadowy ground cover of the east in the forest bed.

"What do you think Oz," Sindel asked in a whisper?

"Lot's to not be likin' 'bout this, that be fer damn sure," the dwarf said, still watching the crawling figure along the grassy thick floor off to his left.

"Dellya, stay set 'ere, 'tween the horses, an' be 'coverin' us with ye bow lass," Ozwulf commanded, motioning to a position in the center of the cluster of horses.

"Sayeth, stay down an' be stayin' near Dellya. Don't be leavin' one 'nother, no matter what be happenin'."

Sayeth shook her head in agreement, her pale face turning an even paler chalky color as it drained of blood. Dellya walked back a few paces to calm her horse as it shuffled restlessly near the other horses.

"I be needin' a volunteer to be seein' if the man be in need o' aid," Ozwulf asked of Sindel and Acanthus.

As he said it, the dwarf pulled his large crossbow off his back and began readying it with a steel tipped wooden bolt. The dwarf began cranking the tensioning mechanism several turns to set the bolt in place.

"I will go," Acanthus answered.

The Avarri pulled his huge thick steel bastard sword from its scabbard as quietly as it would allow. The warrior then began to move cautiously to the group's left, entering the thicker wooded area and making a slow straight line towards the figure that was crawling in the woods ahead. Dellya handed the reins of her horse and Sayeth's to the pale girl next to her. Sayeth took them and continued to look nervously about in all directions, her hands shaking visibly.

Dellya stood to her tip toes, but could not see over the large horse Sayeth had been riding. She then moved to the front of the small pack of horses and watched as Acanthus crept forward. Again the motion could be seen by all as the crawling figure pulled itself along with a single arm in the distance along the forest floor.

"And me," Sindel asked in a whisper?

"Ye be sensin' anythin' elf," the dwarf asked?

"One second," Sindel answered Ozwulf.

With that, Sindel concentrated and ushered forth a bit of his arcane energies, extending and pushing his senses out all around him. After a couple of long seconds, he re-opened his eyes.

"Nothing," Sindel whispered back to the dwarf.

"Good, then come on, ye an' I will be seein' to that there horse ahead," Ozwulf said. "I be wantin' to see what fight this man fell into. It be puttin' me thoughts at ease a bit once I be seein' what I hope I be seein' in the dirt that beastie."

As Ozwulf finished cranking his heavy crossbow, he began to move forward on the trail towards the meandering horse ahead. Ozwulf moved very slowly, each step a calculated soft landing, his eyes darting about in constant assessment of the area around and in front of him. Sindel followed, easing his thin wooden wand out from his tunic as he advanced.

Acanthus had covered half the distance to the figure in the woods already as he glanced over at the slowly advancing Ozwulf and Sindel. The warrior paused only a moment before returning his focus forward and continuing his own crouching advance towards the crawling figure in the grass ahead. He could see that the figure crawling ahead seemed to be struggling mightily at moving just a few feet at a time along the grassy ground. It looked as if the figure was trying to pull its entire body weight with just the use of a clawing, struggling, grasping single left arm.

A raspy grunt followed each pulling motion, with a deep exhale of labored breathing from the crawling figure. Acanthus could feel a small line of warm sweat forming along his brow and he gripped his large blade tighter as he continued his movement forward. Dellya's horse bayed again as it shifted off in the distance. Acanthus could hear Dellya sooth the animal with some calming whispers of assurance.

Acanthus advanced another few cautious strides, his breathing shallow and anxious. He looked about right and left again as his heart picked up pace within his chest.

Something did not seem right about this scene and he strained to find what was amiss here. He stared back to the struggling figure once again, which was now only ten or fifteen paces away from him. The barbarian's eyes scanned along the outline of the figure and the flat grassy trail the figure made as it moved along the ground. Some of the tall grass was beginning to perk back up a dozen paces or so behind the crawling figure and Acanthus stared at it for a long still moment.

"No blood in the standing grass," Acanthus thought to himself.

"Beware . . . ambush," Acanthus screamed out!

A blur of motion exploded around the forest even as Acanthus' finished his warning shout. The horses near Dellya began to rustle and bump around Sayeth and her both. The lone chestnut mare near Ozwulf and Sindel raised its head, its ears shooting straight up at the commotion in the woods to the east. Ozwulf dropped to a knee and fluidly rolled to the ground and braced his crossbow for a shot. The forest had been so quiet the moment before and now looked like a panorama of motion and noise as Acanthus' warning shout seemed to trigger a flurry of activity.

The crawling figure, just paces in front of the Avarri warrior, stopped suddenly as Acanthus screamed out his warning. The mysterious struggling figure pushed off the ground and rolled to one shoulder, propped up and facing the barbarian.

The figure lying in front of Acanthus looked to be a Ferelden man with a tanned complexion and a well muscled middle age frame. Acanthus could see the man's thick black moustache set squarely over his thin lipped mouth and a pair of dark darting eyes staring forward at him. The crawling man raised something up with his tucked away right hand and Acanthus heard a slight clicking noise come from it.

Click, snap!

Something rushed forth from the man's hand, following the clicking noise, and whizzed towards the staring Acanthus.

Pain shot through Acanthus' chest and left arm.

It felt like a sharp icicle had just been stabbed into the barbarian's upper chest, near his left shoulder, just beneath his chainmail shoulder fittings. The feeling was both cold and hot at the same time and each beat of the Avarri's racing heart brought a new lance of shooting pain with it. Acanthus stared down at the man, who was pointing a small hand sized crossbow of some sort in his outstretched right hand.

The man grinned at Acanthus beneath his heavy black moustache. Blood began seeping out from Acanthus' chest where the metal tipped bolt had found a home between a piece of hardened leather and the chain links resting over his large shoulders.

The man rolled back another full pace and half tumbled into a crouch, his dark green foresters cloak crumpling behind him as he rolled back. Acanthus could see the man's free hand working at freeing a hunter's long blade from its sheath that was tethered around the man's upper thigh.

"That had to hurt big fella," the cloaked man said in a low growl. "You can scream or cry if ye like, I won't tell."

Blood dripped along Acanthus' leather chest plate and began to splatter in soft droplets on the ground near the big warriors left leg.

"Or ye could just drop to the ground and bleed out like the stuck animal ye are," the man chided.

Further north, near the chestnut mare, Sindel began whispering forth several words of arcanery to himself, his wand working in unison with his mind and will. Something whizzed past the elf's leg as he tried hard to maintain his concentration. It sounded to Sindel like a slight tearing of the air and made a wisp sound as it got nearer.

The ground thudded with a light impact just a few inches behind Sindel's right foot and the elf broke his concentration to glance down at what had struck the ground. He could see a long shafted arrow buried halfway in the ground just missing his knee. The wooden arrow shaft stuck out from the ground near Sindel's leg, its long black crow feather fletching resting just inches away from the elf's knee. Another zipping sound flew through the air and Sindel glanced back up towards the source ahead.

Sindel spotted the pair of dark cloaked, hooded figures, propped up in the shadowy thick branches just past the mare in a tree above. Both men wore dark black cloth hoods that covered their faces, with eye holes cut in to allow them sight. Each had a curved long bow in hand and both were frantically putting another arrow to their bow strings to take another shot at Sindel and the others.

Sindel felt a hard kick to the back of his right leg at the knee and it caused the elf to buckle from his rigid stance and fall back hard onto the earthen grassy ground behind him. Sindel looked up from his prone position into the pieces of blue sky beyond through the canopy of shadowy tree limbs all about. A shooting thin shaft sped past the prone Sindel and thudded into the ground just behind his prone form. Sindel glanced to his right to see Ozwulf there next to him, the dwarf's leg outstretched near the elf.

"Yer welcome elf," Ozwulf grumbled, already turning back around and re-setting his large crossbow out in front of him while staying prone on the ground next to Sindel.

A twang reverberated out from behind Ozwulf and Sindel and an arrow propelled up towards the pair of men that were shooting down from the thick lower tree limb ahead. The arrow blazed upwards from Dellya's bow and struck hard in the trunk of the large tree, just left of one of the men's chest.

"Dragon's balls," Dellya cursed beneath her breath from behind Ozwulf and Sindel. Her arm was already in motion knocking another long arrow to her bow string to set her next shot.

Ozwulf's heavy crossbow was the next to add its sound to the symphony of battle amidst the quiet forest. The heavy click chunk from Ozwulf's trigger mixed with the immediate snap of the crossbow tension mechanism and a heavy bolt from the crossbow whizzed through the air. The bolt lanced into the groin of one of the hooded men shooting from the tree. The man screamed shrilly as he fell from the tree limb, crashing down hard on his back some twenty feet to the ground below.

Another twang was heard near the mare and another arrow raced past Sindel and Ozwulf towards the lone man remaining in the tree ahead. Dellya's second arrow struck true and hit the man in his stomach, causing him to drop the bow from his grasp. The man leaned hard into the tree trunk to his right and hugged it to prevent from falling. Blood leaked from the arrow still stuck in his mid section.

Ozwulf grabbed another heavy bolt from his hip pack and began placing it into his crossbow. Sindel rolled to one side and repositioned himself so that he was once again facing the mare. The lone horse was no longer there and was galloping off into the woods to the Sindel's left.

Rushing forward from around the base of the large tree near where the mare had stood was a small band of cloaked men wearing black hoods and black cloth face masks. Sindel saw them all rush forward at once, long gleaming steel swords in hand as they advanced towards him. The men were no more than twenty paces away and charging hard towards the companions. Sindel counted and believed there were at least six of the lightly armored men rushing towards them, but it was hard for the elf to tell as everything was happening in a blur.

"Felton, you and Derious with me," the lead brigand commanded as he advanced towards Ozwulf and Sindel. "Zeb, you take care of the girls and horses. Notch, you and Hrond help Maxxel with the big brute in the woods."

"This promises to be a nice haul and will send a message at the same time. They can hire whoever they please from wherever they want, but Loggerswald is ours, eh lads! Cloud should be pleased," the lead man said as he rushed forward, sword in hand.

"Time to break some bones an' make some coin," the one called Derious answered from beneath his black hooded mask. Another man to his right snickered as they moved towards the prone Ozwulf and Sindel.

Acanthus saw the man fall from the tree limb off in the distance and then quickly looked back at the man on the ground. The Avarri heard some barked orders from more men near where the first bandit had fallen. He knew the situation was moving from dangerous to potentially fatal in a hurry. The man on the ground in front of him freed his long hunter's blade free and crouched in readiness in front of the warrior.

"Come on then big man, make ye move," the man called Maxxel taunted at Acanthus. "Or did my crossbow already take the fight out of ye?"

Acanthus shifted his heavy blade to his left hand and felt the wounded shoulder creak with deep pain. So much, the shoulder threatened to drop the heavy steel weapon from his grasp. Acanthus pushed the pain away and gripped his sword even tighter. He reached with his free right hand to his belt for his hatchet.

With one fluid and powerful motion, he pulled the hand axe from his belt, arched the weapon back behind his waist, and then hurled it forward in a powerful throw. The hatchet tumbled end over end at a blurring speed towards the crouched brigand until it reached its target.

Acanthus had made that throw a thousand times or more in his past and the accuracy matched the power as they both culminated into a fatal strike into the man crouching a dozen paces ahead. The sound of the spinning hatchet hitting the man's forehead as it split open his skull rang throughout the nearby woods.

Sprack!

The sound reminded Acanthus of a smooth fist sized lake rock being hit hard by a tree branch. He and his brother Ragnum had done this as boys in their youth many times and the strike was eerily similar to that old sound.

The Avarri did not stop there as he turned back towards his companions and the advancing group of brigands. Acanthus shifted his heavy sword back into his sturdier right hand and began to move towards the new host of assailants. Two of the men from the larger group altered their path and began to move towards Acanthus to meet him with a rush.

"I think the big fella jus' killed Maxi," the man called Notch said out loud to the other man rushing forward beside him.

"Good," the man called Hrond said, "less ways to split the loot. Now, let's finish off this wounded bear eh!"

Another man that the lead man called Zeb, sprinted off to the left of the group, breaking from the advancing pack. Ozwulf saw the man sprint off and knew he was circling around to a flank to get behind the dwarf and elf, to have at the girls behind the dwarf.

Ozwulf's distraction caused his bolt to slip momentarily from his finger tips, into the soft grass next to the crossbow. The dwarf glanced down to the bolt and then back up to the advancing trio of armored men just a few paces from him.

"Elf, need some help an' quick," Ozwulf growled.

Sindel offered no response. He had already stood up next to Ozwulf and was busy with a new spell. He looked as if he was in deep quiet concentration and seemed to be whispering something to himself that sounded like gibberish to the dwarf. The three men took another long stride and were upon both companions, their gleaming steel long blades in hand.

The lead man had not taken his eyes off of the prone dwarf as he advanced within striking distance. The lead hooded brigand swung hard and low at the dwarf's face which was just a foot or so off of the ground.

Ozwulf sprung back in a half roll, half tuck, and the blade swooshed by his face, just missing by a stone, no more.

Ozwulf continued his motion, grabbing the crossbow in his right hand as he tumbled. He then pushed forward with his roll and sprang to the right of the advancing second man, the one the leader had called Derious. Ozwulf spun the crossbow so that its thick wooden stock now faced out, away from him. Ozwulf finished the single move as he sprung up into the man who was now within striking distance.

The heavy wooden stock of the large crossbow slammed underneath Derious' jaw with a powerful crash. Teeth impacted and jaw bones crunched together as the impact rattled throughout the face of the man! The brigand reeled backwards in a spinning collapse away from Ozwulf, spitting out blood and teeth as he fell to the ground.

The lead brigand paused a moment after missing his ground swipe towards the tumbling dwarf. The agile dwarf had sprung to the man's left and was already besting one of his men. To the lead brigand's right, his other hooded ally, the man called Felton, had stopped entirely for some strange reason and was a full pace or two behind him.

The lead brigand stopped and stared back at the elf near them. The man noticed the thin strip of tapered wood in the Dhalish elf's right hand and then glanced again at his motionless ally standing sword in hand behind him.

"Mage," the man yelled!

Zeb, the hooded man who had circled around Ozwulf and the group, stopped his advance towards Dellya and Sayeth. He stared back at the leader, eyes wide with surprise. The other two men that were advancing towards Acanthus also stopped at the warning and glanced back towards the shouting man.

Sindel smiled and arched his eyebrows at the man, but the lead brigand was already in motion in front of the elf and was too busy to take notice of Sindel's coy smirk.

"Something wrong master brigand," Sindel taunted?

The brigand leader did not respond as he took a full step forward and raised his sturdy right leg in front of him, kicking Sindel hard in the gut.

The kick was so hard that it doubled the thin elf in half, almost tumbling him forward to the ground. It was all that Sindel could do to remain somewhat balanced and not fall completely prone from the assault. The brigand leader was already continuing his press and raised his steel blade high in the air to arc down and sever the elf's prone head from his neck. The man began to swing down to finish the fatal blow, but Ozwulf proved quicker.

The dwarf saw the heavy kick and watched as Sindel doubled over in pain. Ozwulf rushed from the man's left and tackled him around the thigh and waist in a rushing charge. Ozwulf's powerful squat legs churned forward trying to topple the man to gain some advantage. He knew he had left himself open and defenseless in his charge but was hopeful that if he toppled the brigand leader, he could nullify that advantage.

The hooded man was caught off guard and Ozwulf's charging tackle knocked him from his target and the fatal swing, but it did not drive the man from his feet.

Sidestepping with the momentum, the brigand leader stayed in motion while twisting to plant his legs to try and resist the powerful dwarf's rush. The brigand leader knew Ozwulf had the leverage with his stout, powerful legs driving with a charging force. But the man had strength to match his nimble feet and began to use both against the dwarf. The maneuver worked as Ozwulf's charging tackle slowed to a resisted sluggish push.

Pain exploded into Ozwulf as he felt a hard sharp blow crash into his skull from above. Ozwulf reeled a bit, his tight shoving grasp going limp as his arms tingled from the neck down.

Ozwulf's crossbow dropped softly onto the ground and he pulled back away from the brigand leader, half out of reaction and half from swirling dizziness. Images in front of the dwarf blurred and for the moment, Ozwulf could only see bright light and dim shadowy blurs, nothing with detail or color.

Sindel had seen what had happened but was powerless to stop the blow to his friend. As Ozwulf had tackled and drove the bandit leader away from the defenseless elf, the brigand had twisted to stop the forced rush. The man then followed the twist with a counter against the dwarf. The man grabbed his long sword with two hands; hilt raised high overhead, and drove the steel pommel squarely down into the dwarfs exposed head.

Blood spilled freely from Ozwulf's skull, sopping into the dwarf's thick earthen red brown hair. Ozwulf reeled backwards and looked confused and off balance. Somewhere behind Sindel, Dellya screamed in shrill concern at the blow.

Sindel began to roll through his spells for something that would help. He quickly was caught in no man's land as his mind froze a moment as he thought through his options.

The brigand leader in the black hood had no such hesitation, his only option, to finish the reeling dwarf in front of him. The man stepped forward into the staggering Ozwulf and punched the stout dwarf squarely in the nose with the hard steel pommel of his long sword. Ozwulf tried to raise his hands up to soften or stop the blow, but his arms were not responding to his mind's request. The thrusting sword punch to his face sent Ozwulf another full step backwards and the dwarf planted onto the ground on his back in a heaping thud!

Sindel began whispering words of magic, his heart racing, his mind whirring with what he saw unfolding at odds with the magic he desperately tried to release.

The bandit leader moved quickly once again.

The man continued from his lunging punch into Ozwulf and in the same long motion, he swept out a back handed extending arc with his long blade out towards the standing Sindel. The long sweeping swing was just long enough to connect as the tip of the razor sharp steel blade tore shirt and flesh from Sindel's chest.

Sindel reeled back a half step in glancing pain, too late to prevent the slice. Sindel lost the words in his mind to his spell as he peeked down to the newly sliced wound. He saw a thin line cut through his padded tunic that ran from one side of his upper abdomen to the other in a single arms length slice. A dark red line began to form along the padded tunic and Sindel felt weak in his knees at the seeping red sight.

The bandit leader set to task and spun to face Sindel directly. The man took a step forward to finish the elven mage when Sindel heard another twang from behind him.

Thunk!

A blurring streak of an arrow sped past Sindel's head. It was so close to his right cheek, Sindel felt the rush of wind zip by him. Dellya's arrow struck true and thudded into the bandit leader, stopping his advance for the moment!

The man exhaled and moaned in pain as the arrow buried itself deep into his left leather armored shoulder.

Dellya dropped her bow to the ground and sprinted forward towards the wounded bandit leader. She drew forth her own long hunter's blade from her belt scabbard as she charged, leaving Sayeth and the horses behind her. Her hands shook with fear and rage at the same time. Her red face pumping with blood as her eyes welled up with concern for the fallen dwarf at the brigand's feet.

Sindel turned his attention away from his bleeding abdomen and the rushing Dellya. He saw the man called Felton beginning to shake his head clear from his spell and begin to move once more. Sindel flicked his wand and began whispering his arcane words in a rushed concentration once again. Felton slowed down again and his movements stopped completely as Sindel completed his spell over the man.

Behind the battle with Sindel, the pair of men advancing towards Acanthus had paused only briefly at their leader's shouted warning. Both continued towards the barbarian as there was little they could do to help their leader, without dealing with Acanthus first. They had covered most of the distance to the Avarri and squared themselves to meet the advancing warrior.

Acanthus saw his dwarven ally put hard into the ground by the bandit leader and his anger flared into a full born rage. For a moment, the two hooded bandits in front of him thought the barbarian may just split the two and charge right past them, not caring if they felled him along the way with blades from behind. Both hooded men set to receive the angry barbarian's charge forward.

But Acanthus was ready as well and advanced until he was just a pace away from both men. The man on his left, the one called Notch, lead first with his attack at Acanthus. Notch swung with power from a high shoulder angle towards Acanthus' torso and towards the barbarian's wounded shoulder. Acanthus moved faster and crashed into the sweeping swing with his own heavy sword in a one handed block. A piercing ring echoed throughout the forest as steel clashed against steel from the meeting blades.

The bandit on Acanthus' right, the one called Hrond, moved almost in unison with his ally and he stabbed forth with his long blade towards Acanthus' other unwounded side. Acanthus saw the double team as he blocked Notch. Acanthus moved his body close into Notch as he blocked, almost crashing into him to avoid the second lunging strike. Acanthus then spun a quick low circling spin, out of the block and towards Hrond.

The large blade whirred through the air, connecting with its target. Acanthus had spun low, almost into a crouch and his powerful blade tore into the lightly armored stomach of Hrond. The fine Avarri blade cut through leather, flesh, and bone easily as Hrond screamed out in pain.

Hrond was finished and he knew it as he staggered backwards, away from Acanthus. The bandit grabbed his spilling guts and fell back to the ground in a cut off scream that turned to a gurgle as he slumped back.

Acanthus looked left to the sword arm of Notch, the man he had initially blocked and spun away from. Notch had advanced from the block and his sword arm was still wide and not pressing towards Acanthus' as the Avarri has predicted. Instead, Acanthus saw that Notch had freed a long dagger and now drove that towards Acanthus from the bandit's left hand, which was closer to the barbarian and just inside his defenses.

Acanthus had but a moment to move, as his heavy blade, coupled with his wounded shoulder, had no chance of blocking the tight inside strike.

Acanthus pushed up from his crouch with his powerful legs and took the dagger strike solidly into his massive chest, trying to avoid a more fatal strike. Notch was squarely aiming to drive the long pointed metal blade into the barbarian's open neck or perhaps his eye from the downward stab.

The dagger chunked into Acanthus' chest on his right side, just below his shoulder blade. The long blade sunk in deep and burned with pain throughout Acanthus' entire body. But Acanthus did not stop his angle or his thrust up with his legs. He continued his spring and drove the top of his head up, into Notch's jaw with a powerful crashing force. Notch's teeth gnashed together as the man bit off the end of his tongue and moaned in pain. Acanthus pushed through the radiating pain throughout his torso and grasped his heavy blade with two hands.

With a final, powerful, two handed swing, Acanthus halted the moans of the hooded man as his head was severed from his body. Both dropped to the ground as Acanthus finished his follow through swing.

Acanthus turned to see Dellya sprinting forward, dropping her bow as she did so. The big Avarri took a single long stride forward and felt his body swoon in pain and light headedness. He stopped for a half moment and tried his best to steel himself to action. Acanthus shook his head furiously and tried to force the pain from his thoughts.

The Avarri felt a warmth coat over his body, almost like a soothing numbness that layered over the stinging and shooting pain in both of his shoulders. Acanthus tried his best to shake loose from the warming numb feeling. He drove himself forward another rage filled step or two and was again forced to stop. The Avarri fell to one knee and braced himself with his sword to not fall over completely. Blood continued to stream down both arms and shoulders around him.

Back near the horses, Sayeth watched as Dellya charged forward towards the wounded bandit leader and the fallen dwarf. This left the girl with bigger problems as she noticed the brigand called Zeb circling to the right of her and the horses. The pale girl began to breathe in short tedious breaths as she looked about for something to arm herself with. The hooded Zeb stalked closer, sword in hand, towards the lone pale girl.

Sayeth wanted to run and to warn Dellya at the same time as the man continued to creep closer and closer, but words escaped her. Sayeth was frozen with fear and indecision as the man advanced another few paces to their right, now within arm's length of the nearest horse.

It was then that a dark shape took form out on the perimeter of the camp, just next to a large tree some thirty paces away from Sayeth and the approaching Zeb. The frightened girl had a clear view of the form as the dark image appeared behind the stalking brigand, but directly in line with Sayeth's fear ridden stare. Sayeth thought she saw the dark form shift in motion from something small, like a thick black animal, to something taller and standing upright, but could not be sure. Where there was a dark stout form a second ago, there was now a lurking thin man in black robes behind the stalking Zeb.

The unknowing brigand continued his advance towards Sayeth.

"Easy now, easy now pretty horsy, no need to worry, Zeb will take care of you," the man promised as he edged closer.

Sayeth heard feint hissed words ushered forth from the robed man in the distance.

Zeb froze and advanced no more.

Sayeth froze with fear and her short, quick breaths turned into none at all as terror gripped her. The robed man whispered another incantation towards the motionless bandit and then both were gone, as if they had never been there at all. No sounds, no bandit, no robed man, just the horses bumping around into each other and the lone girl who had seen it all. Sayeth's eyes could grow no wider and no breath took to her lips.

Dellya charged forward with blinding speed and single purpose. She passed by Sindel in a blur and on towards the wounded bandit leader. The man with an arrow in his shoulder had recovered from the surprising wound and was trying to right himself so that he could advance once again against the wounded elf. As soon as Dellya passed Sindel, she sprang forward in a leaping assault. Sindel caught the image from the side and thought she looked like a springing mountain lion from behind him that was leaping into a wounded surprised calf.

Dellya hit the bandit leader with all her weight from the pounce. The force of her ninety or so pounds was not nearly enough to knock the man to the ground, but that was not her full intention. Dellya's plunged her hunter's knife deep into the man's chest, just a hair below where the arrow already had imbedded itself. The mark was so close that the lunging stab broke part of the arrow shaft off as she struck, sending a long crimson streaked mark down Dellya's right arm as she plunged at the man's chest with the deep leaping blow.

The bandit leader screamed again in pain and shook Dellya loose in a panicked frenzy. The thin girl spun backwards away from the man as the shove sent her tumbling back and spiraling to the ground in a violent crash.

Sindel was already in motion with his wand and arcane words ushered forth from his whispering elven lips. The tip of his wand flared with an angry red light and a bolt of crimson energy roared forth from the wand towards the man. Heat formed in the air around the wand and a sizzle of energy crackled in the air as the bolt blasted forward. The energy hit the bandit leader in the face and knocked him several feet in the air. The smell of burnt flesh and a crackling of energy, mixed about the air as the man landed with a harsh dead thud. The man lay motionless as his black hood was melted into his scorched face from the spell.

Sindel looked past the burned bandit leader's corpse and saw Ozwulf trying to push himself up from the ground. He then checked the frozen bandit called Felton with a glance until he was sure his enchantment was still in place. Sindel then looked back towards Acanthus. The big barbarian was on a knee, oozing blood from multiple wounds, a bone hilted long knife still imbedded in one side of the warrior's chest while a bolt stuck out from his shoulder. Acanthus' then fell to the ground in a heap, no longer able to stay propped upright. Sindel fought against doing the same as he staggered forward towards Dellya in a doubled over moan.