1st day of Ransalacue, 5571A 2 miles north of Talantier The Divided Lands
Even at this distance, Lumen could tell something was wrong.
The moon elf squinted, looking ahead at the road which led south to Talantier. About five hundred feet ahead of her, the land sloped slightly upwards. Just short of the rise, a man pushing a cart; a travelling merchant more than likely, had stopped and seemed to be engaged in conversation with a group of four men.
Lumen frowned. Even at this extreme distance, she could see that all four men wore leather armor of some sort and were armed. Swords hung in scabbards at their hips and shortbows were slung over their shoulders. It looked like they had surrounded the man, who stood with one hand on his cart. She was much too far away to hear what they were saying but Illumenatta Duskwind could feel her muscles tighten up and her breath quickening. Was there going to be-
And then it happened. One of the men drew his sword and cut the merchant down with one stroke.
Lumen started to run, drawing her own shortbow as she did so. She turned her head and yelled at the numerous other people who were walking the main road.
"Bandits! A man is down! Anyone who can help-"
Lumen stopped yelling but not running. She wasn't sure if anyone else would dare to get involved. Perhaps the man leading a mule; a young human priest of a god she had never heard of whom she had met about an hour ago and exchanged some casual conversation with. Bjorn, she thought his name was.
And indeed the cleric, having dropped his mule's guide rope, was already in motion, although the scale mail he wore would slow him down some.
But he wasn't the only one. Behind the moon elf, a large man, possibly hunchbacked, who wore a large black cloak over his back and shoulders, started running as well. His travelling companion was an unexceptional looking human who nevertheless seemed to have been having a conversation with the raven perched on his shoulder when the commotion began.
Mage, Lumen thought, and was pleased to see her suspicion confirmed when the man began incanting and pointed at the cloaked man.
In the space of an instant, the running man doubled in size.
Impressive, Lumen thought. From her own studies of wizardry, she recognized the enlarge person spell. As the twelve-foot-tall man ran past Lumen, she impulsively reached out to grab the flapping end of his cloak, hoping to catch a quicker ride to the scene of the action. She managed to grab it, but the giant's momentum tore it out of the elf's hand the next moment.
But not before she had gotten a glimpse of stunted, folded wings.
Others were in motion as well. A short, hooded man who might or might not be an elf was running as well, drawing a type of sword Lumen had never seen before. In addition, a male high elf who was clad in garb similar to Lumen, began running all-out as well, drawing his longbow as he did. None of the other people on the road looked to be combatants of any type. They were pointing and yelling, but not making any move to enter the fray.
Oh well, Lumen thought. Six against four. That's not bad odds.
Qidarchios Sunleaf felt like his lungs would burst.
He had blown past the merchant lying motionless on the ground. He couldn't tell if the elderly human was dead or not, but he trusted that at least one of the other responders had better healing skills than he possessed. Cresting the small hill, he could see the four men. Two were pushing the cart for all they were worth while the others stood guard, bows ut. It was evident at a glance that they weren't going to get away.
Dark hoped that was a good thing. Well, you wanted adventure, he thought grimly to himself. You got it, kiddo.
He risked a glance behind him. The giant man was the closest to him, and the others not far behind. He saw the four men ahead stare in amazement at this rag-tag band of eclectic- and in one case terrifying- individuals who were bearing down on them, but they held their ground.
"Gareth!" he heard one of them shout. "We've got problems!"
"Damn it!" yelled Gareth. "I told you not to bother with that old fool!"
"But there wasn't any patrol in sight!" the other man whined. "I thought it was safe! Who are these people?"
"Do-gooders!" snarled Gareth, who as far as Dark could see seemed to be the leader of the bunch. "Even worse! Don't just stand there- kill 'em!"
Bows twanged; not at the giant man, whom Dark had assumed would be the most obvious target, but at himself, the one person closest to the four than anyone else.
Fortunately, the day was uncommonly windy, as well as unusually cool for the first day of High Summer's last month. Dark had cursed the wind more than once as one item or another had come loose from his pack and blown across the high grasses and crop fields he had traversed, but now he was glad to see the wind deflect the bandits' arrows off course.
It just now occurred to the young elf that if he closed to hand-to-hand range, these four men would likely cut him to pieces in short order.
Instead, he pulled up short and began to sing.
Either a bard or a lunatic, Oliver Athraite thought. I sure hope it's the former. I suspect we're going to need all the help we can get.
"Hang on!" he yelled to Fiach and felt the raven's claws tighten on his shoulder in response. Oliver's right arm came up, pointing at one of the brigands, even as the arcane syllables left his lips. A white streak shot from his hand and unerringly zeroed in on its target, who shrieked in pain but did not drop.
In the next instant, his friend Sebastian Sanders pulled up about ten feet away from the line of bandits, pulled out a greatsword and started swinging.
Bjorn Sigmundson knelt by the prone merchant. His practiced eye told him the man still lived, but that status was in dire jeopardy. The cleric of Balder let the healing energy flow from his hand into the man's body. The merchant groaned slightly and shifted his position but did not regain consciousness.
That was all right, though. Bjorn knew the man would survive now. He'd attend further to him later but for now it looked like the startlingly beautiful elf he'd just met, as well as these four other strange people, could use his help. Drawing his own sword, the priest was off.
Saito Takahashi grimaced as the man dodged the strike of his katana, and then cut across his own chest with his longsword, drawing a long but shallow gash.
Of course, in the great tales the older samurai would always tell back in Nippon, bandits were cowards at heart and furthermore would always go down on the first strike, like wheat before a farmer's scythe.
Right now, Takahashi was feeling more like the wheat than the scythe himself.
Lumen altered her course slightly, so she'd have a clear shot at one of the brigands without the giant man getting in the way. She fired, but her arrow went wide.
Combat was a much more chaotic and confused affair than the young moon elf had imagined it would be. While the giant; Lumen heard the wizard call him "Seb," was dealing grievous wounds with his sword, the men were standing their ground and Seb's giant size made him an easier target.
"Stand down!" the giant winged man bellowed.
"You stand down!" shouted Gareth in return.
One of the bandits went down under Sebastian's weapon, but in the next instant Gareth's longsword found its mark as well, and Sanders crumpled onto the cobblestone road, blood pooling underneath him.
Damn it! Oliver screamed to himself. He just wasn't powerful enough. Magic missiles weren't going to do the job. He'd have to try something else and trust in his new battle companions that they would be smart enough to capitalize on the opening he'd give them. The wizard incanted again, and the cobblestones beneath the remaining three bandits' feet suddenly glistened with an oily sheen, and two of the brigands abruptly went down as their feet slid out from underneath them.
Bjorn arrived at the melee just in time to witness this. His sword was in position in an instant, pointing down at one of the prone men.
"Surrender!" he bellowed at the man, who merely snarled and tried to rise, but failed.
Gareth had managed to regain his footing, and was slowly backing up, looking for the best tactical position.
Dark had stopped singing and fired an arrow from his longbow, which at this close range managed to deliver a grazing wound to the bandit leader.
Twin screams came from the left flank, where the other brigand had managed to score a serious wound to the individual with the strange sword but paid for the price as Saito found his opening and took it. His katana flashed true, and the bandit's head sailed off from his shoulders.
Much better, the samurai thought.
A combination of weapon strikes and another magic missile from Oliver finished off the prone brigand, and now only Gareth remained.
"Yield!" yelled Bjorn, who seemed the most determined to take at least one of these men alive. "Why persist? You know you can't win!"
"You know nothing," Gareth replied. His voice was remarkably calm considering the circumstances, the priest thought.
A few seconds later, it was all over.
The giant man called Seb was in serious condition, but Bjorn's healing soon bought him back to consciousness, if not full health. Soon, the barbarian shrank back down to his normal size as the enlarge spell wore off. The samurai Saito was standing, but not much more than that. Bjorn gave him some healing as well.
The six individuals considered their dead opponents; and each other.
A search of the former's corpses yielded some surprises. Each bore five gold coins emblazoned with the profile of a man identified only as the "Ascendor of Hellas," which meant nothing to any of them.
They also found a note on Gareth's body.
Gareth, Make haste towards Talantier. Your targets can oft be found in the Long Whiskers Inn & Tavern. Eliminate yourselves quickly—if the Neutral Forces appear, they will come after you first. My master will keep tabs on your progress. Once the killings are done, Johann of the Nightsong Guild will contact you, pay your balance and issue you further instructions. Much effort has been expended to bring you here—do not mail us. Hopefully, you will be but the first of a mighty host. ~~Hawkins
"Eliminate yourselves?" repeated Saito, shaking his head. "That makes no sense."
"Little about this does," replied Bjorn, who had restored the merchant to consciousness.
Any hope they had of gaining more pieces of the puzzle were soon dashed, though. Although exceedingly grateful, the man who called himself Henry was a mere tinsmith who did not know his attackers. His wares were common tin items. Even a detect magic cast by Oliver Athraite found nothing unusual, either on Henry's wares or on the bodies.
"Why would they fight to the death for tin trinkets?" asked Sebastian.
They may not have," mused Dark. "From what I heard, Gareth, was against the others attacking and robbing Henry. This may have been an attack of opportunity, so to speak."
"Doesn't tell us what their real mission was, though," said Oliver.
It was Illumenatta who first asked the question that no one yet had gotten around to.
"Well," she said, trying to be more casual than she felt after just experiencing the first battle of her life, "shall we stay together at least until we get to Talantier? My great grandmother Adorella owns the Long Whiskers Inn."
Dark looked over at her in shock.
"She does?" he asked in wonder. "Adorella is the younger sister of the legendary sorcerer Sambel Sunleaf, my great grandfather! That would make us," the young elf's face screwed up in concentration as he calculated, "third cousins!"
Lumen smiled at him.
While the two elves chatted up family business, the others decided to salvage and sell the swords, bows and armor of their defeated enemies, as none of the six had a surplus of hard coin. Saito, who somehow seemed the most honorable and trustworthy of the group was asked and agreed to the actual task of selling the gear once they reached the city. Lumen and Sebastian each claimed a composite shortbow for their own personal use, as these weapons, built to take advantage of above-average strength, were superior to their own bows.
Henry bid the sextet a goodbye as they entered Talantier, promising to help them out in the future in any way they could. He left, pushing his cart, as the others looked around them.
Talantier was an unusual city for several reasons. A planned city, jointly built by humans and elves over five hundred years ago, it lay on the grasslands near Samseed Wood, but incorporated many elvish architectural features. There were no gates or even walls, and few of the city's buildings touched each other. Even though it housed over 11,000 souls, it had the feel of a large village rather than a true city. The sky was always visible overhead and more often than not the ground beneath one's feet was short grass and not dirt or stone.
In addition, Talantier was known throughout the Divided Lands as an artist's haven. Pursuing the arts was considered to be the most noble profession for any native Talantier, and if one didn't have artistic talent oneself, one was expected to at least be a patron of the arts.
The six paused around the stone cylinder that served as a message board for those of Talantier's citizens who could read the notices posted upon it.
"The sewer workers have stopped working," Oliver commented, reading one notice.
"My nose already told me that," Seb replied glumly.
"They're seeking more pay from the city government."
Sebastian laughed humorlessly. "Good luck with that."
"The rat catcher's guild is hiring," Dark pointed out, eyeing another notice.
"Well," said Lumen, smiling again at her cousin, "you did set out away from home for adventure, didn't you?"
"Ha, ha."
"This one," said Takahashi, "reports that Edrec, speaker of the Green Circle, has vowed to raze Talantier to the ground if they interfere with his plans."
"I've heard of them," Lumen said. The moon elf's expression was much more serious now. "They've vowed to rid Samseed Wood of everything that walks on two legs. They get along better with elves than with most, but still..." she trailed off, shaking her head.
They were silent for a moment.
"Well," piped up Dark, "shall we hit the Long Whiskers? I don't know about you people, but I'm starving!"
"Qidarchios! Illumenatta!" the elderly, hunched elf squealed as she approached the table where the six people were enjoying their drinks and fiercely hugged her kin. "What are you two doing here- and where are your parents?"
She looked around at the other four. "In fact, you're all children! What's going on here?"
It was Bjorn Sigmundson who first grasped the truth of Adorella Duskwind's question. While the cleric hardly thought of himself as a child, he was in truth only twenty-one years old. The three elves; Saito had revealed himself to also be an elf, although a wood elf from very far away, all looked to be in their mid-twenties: very young for an elf to be on their own. The mage Oliver looked about Bjorn's own age and his companion Sebastian a few years younger than even that.
The priest of Balder looked around the smoky, crowded, noisy tavern's common room, lost in thought- until he saw something that took his breath away more than mere pipeweed smoke ever could- or even more than Acessiwal's assassin had tried.
The four bandits that Bjorn and his allies had slain less than two hours earlier were sitting at a table not forty feet from them.
The party, alerted by Bjorn, was now stealing glances at the resurrected brigands, trying not to be obvious about it.
For their part, the quartet seemed oblivious to their presence. No longer armed or armored, they were quaffing ales and talking animatedly amongst themselves. They were too far away in this noisy environment for their conversation to be overheard, but they seemed much more jovial than they had been earlier.
Lumen got up and, heading towards the privy, passed by their table. She gave the four her best smile, which rarely failed to dazzle male humans and it didn't fail her this time. More importantly to Lumen, however, was that she saw no hint of recognition in any of their eyes. Maybe they were all extraordinarily good actors- this was the city for it, after all- but Lumen just didn't think that was the case.
"They're regulars," Adorella offered after Lumen had returned, nodding towards the four men. "They come in about once a week. I don't know any of their names, but I'm pretty sure they work for the carpenter's guild."
Conversation soon turned to other matters. Adorella had put their entire meal on the house and had also rented them out her remaining three rooms on the upper floor. Their meals soon arrived, and soon the six were concentrating solely on filling their protesting bellies, until Oliver Athraite, prodded by Fiach's nibbling on his ear, looked up.
The half-elf was even younger than they were; sixteen at most and possibly even younger. Her flame-red hair was distinctive, but other than that she seemed an altogether unremarkable child.
But now the wizard realized that she was watching them all.
She had slipped into the inn right behind them, Oliver remembered, but had quickly faded into the background. The last time Athraite had noticed her, she had taken a seat at another table but now she had somehow maneuvered close enough so that she could, and probably had, overheard their every word.
Adorella stood up. "This has been wonderful," she gushed, "but I've got to get back to work. I'm sure I'll see you all around."
The elderly elf began to head back towards the kitchenand just as Oliver had decided that he'd let the rest of his companions know about their eavesdropper, the half-elf stepped forward, towards Adorella.
"May I speak with you, please?" she asked, in a voice no different than any other girl her age.
Adorella smiled at her. "Just for a moment, dearie. What can I do for you?"
The girl cleared her throat.
"My name is Caffrine Esslos. I think- I think I may be a relative of yours, as well."
The three humans and the wood elf listened with mild curiosity, but Lumen and Dark's attention was riveted on the story that the teenager unfolded. She claimed also to be a great granddaughter of Adorella, albeit from a different grandfather than Lumen's. Her father had been slain by the Green Circle when Caffrine had been a mere toddler of three. She, her father and her younger sister Castine had been but a few miles from Talantier when they had been attacked by Edrec's forces and Caffrine's father Hennet had ordered the precocious Caffrine to flee to Talantier with her sister in tow. They had done so, but when the patrol sent forth by their story found only Hennet's corpse, the two children were left as wards of the city. Not knowing their mother's maiden name, the authorities were unaware that the children had several relatives living here, and so the children were placed in the city orphanage. They had languished there for eight years and then one night Castine vanished. Caffrine knew she'd never find her sister if she stayed at the orphanage, so the very next night she escaped. The half-dropped several hints about skills she'd learned from her father, which put Lumen and Dark in the mind of thieves, but if Caffrine had managed to pick up and remember anything at the age of three, she'd been a precocious child indeed. The girl dropped more hints about living on the streets since then but it was clear she was holding some details back. Nevertheless, it was an incredible tale.
Adorella nodded gravely once Caffrine had finished. "I'll be happy to get you in touch with your other relatives living here," she said, "as well as help in getting you back to Evistar. Your grandfather Asteron will be overjoyed to know you're still alive."
"I want to do that," Caffrine responded, "but not until I've found my sister."
Lumen and Dark stood up at the same time.
"Perhaps," the former spoke up. "We can help you with that."
For the first time since they had seen her, Caffrine smiled.
