2nd day of Ransalacue, 5571A The Long Whiskers Inn Talantier, The Divided Lands

"Excuse me."

The six individuals looked up from the table in the common room of the Long Whiskers Inn & Tavern, where they had been eating breakfast.

The man was perhaps in his mid-thirties, clad in chainmail, and wearing a longsword in a scabbard at his side. His crisp manner and sharp appearance suggested a military man and the party's suspicions were quickly confirmed when the man introduced himself as Lieutenant Anderson of the Talantier City Guard.

"Am I correct in assuming," he stated, his facial expression a study in controlled neutrality, "that you are the individuals who saved Henry the tinsmith from a bandit attack yesterday on the road north of town?"

"You would be," replied Lumen, smiling at him.

"You have our gratitude," Anderson said, a slight smile greasing his own face in reply despite his best effort to repress it. "Talantier needs good men and women such as you."

The party murmured their thanks. Most of them knew what was coming and after a few seconds of small talk the lieutenant got to the point of his presence here.

"I was wondering," he stated a bit abashedly, "if you would be interested in a short period of employment by the city."

"In what capacity?" asked Dark.

Lieutenant Anderson drew a deep breath and plunged in.

"Last night, the Swan Street Slicer struck again, slaying a young nobleman in the street not too far from this very spot. Four of my men were close enough to hear his cries and although they did not arrive in time to save the victim, they were able to engage the murderer."

His audience of six did not interrupt. They merely looked at him expectantly.

"Unfortunately, the Slicer; a mute, nearly feral halfling known only as Peck, wounded three of my men severely with nothing more than a straight razor. The fourth guardsman wounded the hobbit but he was still able to flee and he remains at large."

"You want us to help you track him down?" asked Sebastian, already half-rising from his chair. It was clear to the others that the barbarian was looking forward to the challenge.

"Not at all," replied Lieutenant Anderson, sounding somewhat defensive. "That is the job of the city guard. However, all the noble families of the city are raising a royal storm over this affair. While most of them have their own protection, there are some who either can't afford to or simply don't trust mercenaries and my own men are spread far too thin in the hunt to render assistance."

Sebastian's face fell.

"A babysitting job?" he asked glumly.

Anderson fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I would not use that term," he stated, although the party noted he said nothing to contradict it. "We request your employment for one week or until the Slicer is caught, whichever comes first."

"Which family would we be guarding?" asked Oliver.

"The Dromdals," said Anderson. "Lord and Lady Dromdal's son-in-law Mikael Andronovich was the Slicer's first victim. Mikael's widow Ceseli and her parents comprise the whole of the family here in Talantier."

"How much?" asked Dark.

"One hundred gold nobles," Anderson replied, detaching the large pouch from his belt and showing it to them, as if they thought he might be lying.

The sextet looked at each other. Each man or woman saw in the other five faces an individual who had no steady job and a need for coin.

Lumen gave Lieutenant Anderson her trademark dazzling smile. "Sold."


The headmistress of the Talantier orphanage; an elderly, white-haired woman, eased herself gingerly into a wicker chair in her office and gazed sadly at Caffrine.

"Five years alone on the streets? A terrible fate, my dear child. Even in Talantier, that is a path I would not wish on anyone. How terrible it must have been for you. If only you had not fled…"

The half-elven teenager stared back, saying nothing. The others, who had met the half-elf here, could clearly see that Caffrine was trying to keep her expression neutral. It was also apparent that this could not last too much longer.

"My eight years here were no festival, headmistress. Especially when one considers the fact that neither I nor my sister needed to be sent here in the first place. We had living relatives right here in town-"

"There is no way we could have known that," the headmistress cut across her, her own expression defensive now. "You were only three years old, my child. You did not know your parents' surnames and after your father was slain, no one came looking for the two of you here."

"From what we understand," Dark said, joining in with all the diplomatic finesse he could muster, "Caffrine's father Hennet was killed outside the city and no formal announcement was ever made by crier here in Talantier."

"Such things never are," the woman replied, her voice sad again, "unless the victim was," and here she hesitated, finishing up by pointedly avoiding Caffrine's eyes, "someone of high renown."

Caffrine's bristle was audible but as her father had been a known con man, she kept silent.

"And the girls' mother, Alexania?" Lumen asked. "My second cousin once removed, if I can keep my genealogy straight."

The headmistress shrugged. "Caffrine told us her mother was named Alexania. We never learned anything more."

"Did you bother trying to find out?"

Caffrine was starting to lose control, but the headmistress simply looked back at her without either anger or guilt.

"We have no such resources, my child. Every common I can acquire goes to the care of those under my charge. We feed them, clothe them and give them beds and a dry roof over their heads. I do what I can to keep them happy but it so often seems not to be enough."

She stared down at her hands, clasped together on her desk.

"It never seems to be enough."

Dark laid his hand on her bony shoulder. The headmistress did not look up but one of her hands clasped his.

Caffrine said nothing but a faint blush suffused her cheeks.

"Tell us again of the sisters' disappearances," said Lumen, switching tracks. "Caffrine here told us she jimmied the lock on her window, but there was never any evidence as to how her sister Castine escaped, was there?"

"No," the headmistress replied, her attention fixed on the moon elf now. "None at all, but I sometimes wonder…"

The others gazed at her expectantly, Caffrine with a particular intensity.

The old woman stood up again and addressed the group at large.

"Several days before Castine vanished, a man who called himself Mr. Goth arrived here. He stated he was a butler for a wealthy couple here in town; one human, one elven, who could not have children of their own and were looking to adopt a half-elf child. He seemed most interested in Castine."

"But not me?" Caffrine asked, puzzlement in her voice.

The headmistress shook her head. "No, my child. Not you, nor any other of my half-elven charges. He seemed to have eyes only for Castine."

A palpable shudder ran through the group. The old woman nodded with a self-satisfied smile.

"And that was my reaction as well. Add that to the fact that he would not reveal the names of his employers; he stated they wished privacy, but every fiber of my being was screaming in protest at this and I sent him straight away."

She sat down again. "I never saw him again."

"You think this Mr. Goth might have kidnapped Castine?" Oliver Athraite now asked, professional curiosity enhancing his interest. "You suspect him of having magical ability of some kind?"

The headmistress looked at him with great sadness and something else.

Something that it took the group a moment to identify as fear.

"My good sir," she said, very softly. "I suspect him of much, much, more than that."


"Time grows short," Takahashi felt compelled to say.

The samurai had no wish to appear indifferent to Caffrine's plight but the entire group, the child included, had given Lieutenant Anderson their word.

"It was one bell when we left Talantier," Dark replied, referencing the regular church-bell ringing the city used to keep track of time. "We're only about three leagues out. We promised we'd be at the Dromdals no later than five bells."

Caffrine, meanwhile, was dredging up her memories of the so-called 'Swan Street Slicer.' She'd come across Peck once or twice during her five years on the streets of Talantier. While he certainly was reclusive, shunning all contact, Caffrine had never heard any tales of violence attributed to the halfling. The rumor, unconfirmed, was that someone had cut out Peck's tongue decades earlier, before the hobbit had arrived in Talantier.

The seven individuals (Bjorn had rejoined the party, having missed going to the orphanage due to a needed consultation and paying for admission to the Naturalist Guild of Talantier) took a few more steps out from the trees into the glade, and then fell silent at the entrancing spectacle of nature before them.


A large oval pool of deep green water in front of them, perhaps seventy feet wide by a hundred feet long, lay below a rocky ridge from which a waterfall cascaded thirty feet down into the pool's western edge. Hundreds of exotic flowers in vibrant purples, blues and reds were growing all around the banks of the pool. Numerous lily pads dotted the pool's surface, more than a few sporting a frog, dragonfly or such.

A fragrant scent from the colorful flowers wafted over the party, carried by the strong winds that had not abated since yesterday.

The smell was nothing short of entrancing. Every one of the group just stood there, eyes closed and inhaling deeply.

Bjorn spoke first. "Succulent orchids. Quite rare and highly valued."

Oliver shot the herbologist a sidewise glance. "Any magical properties? Potion ingredients or such?"

Sigmundson favored the mage with a smile that the latter couldn't help but feel had a bit too much sanctimoniousness in it.

"Do they need to be? Aren't their beauty and aroma enough magic for you?"

"I was just asking," Oliver replied, making a conscious effort not to do so with gritted teeth.

"You certain the lady who lives here is a druid?" Sebastian said, putting just enough rumble into his already impressive voice to let Bjorn know that he had picked up on his best friend's discomfort- and its source.

"No," admitted the cleric, "but I already said that back in town. The Naturalists' Guild simply said that a strange woman who always wears black veils and seems to have strong bonds with the local fauna lives here. They have no idea who she is; so like I said, it's a long shot."

He glanced over at Caffrine, who was just now coming out of her floral reverie. She favored him with a momentary smile.

Sebastian suddenly drew his greatsword from its sheath on his back.

"That's no woman," he growled, his gaze facing upwards.


Bjorn Sigmundson easily classified Sebastian's utterance as Understatement Of The Year but in fact did so only mentally, as he was well aware he had already ticked off the barbarian once today. He put that aside and immediately began to run through his prayer inventory, his right hand hovering over his sword's hilt. Another quick glance showed the cleric that Oliver was thinking along similar arcane lines. His raven familiar Fiach tightened his grip on his master's shoulder, flapped his wings and cawed loudly.

Saito Takahashi drew his katana and settled into a battle stance but made no move to advance.

Lumen and Dark drew no weapons but their distant cousin Caffrine did, pulling the short composite bow off her shoulder and notching an arrow. The teenager's breathing was hard and fast. She had seen her share of violence in her half-decade on the streets but it had been mostly flashing knives or perhaps an arrow fired from ambush in a dark alley.

Never had she seen anything like this.

The bipedal figure that had just emerged from the waterfall, even stooped over as it was, was the size of a hill giant, although it was most certainly not one. Its skin was a hairless, mottled gray. Huge, broad shoulders gave way to long, muscular arms ending in great clawed hands that almost touched the ground. On its sloped forehead were no fewer than six smallish, yellow eyes, set in two vertical rows of three.

It roared at them, revealing large, black teeth. With a leap that sent water spraying out from its skin, the beast jumped down into the pool, which came up just short of the creature's chest.

"Shall we?" Sebastian grinned at his fellow party members, although in truth only the samurai Takahashi amongst them seemed ready to jump into combat. This didn't bother Seb. He was more than ready to act as meat shield, especially under the effect of Oliver's enlarge spell. The barbarian was just about to ask his friend to start casting when he heard the woman's voice.

"For your sake, I'd just as soon you wouldn't."


No one had seen her emerge from the waterfall and she still looked bone-dry for that matter, at least from this distance but a figure clad from head to ankle in multiple black lace veils now stood on the rock from which the giant creature had just jumped.

Considering her covering, the woman clambered down the rockface with surprising speed and grace. She held no weapons, although almost anything could in theory be concealed underneath those veils.

Despite herself, Caffrine couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat as the woman reached the grass and then slowly approached them, walking around the pool. It was obvious from the way the gray beast was moving its gaze from the party to the woman that the latter was its master. The woman's apparent height: no more than her own, Caffrine thought, not to mention the almost imperceptible lifting of her veil on both sides of the woman's head that might have been evidence of pointed ears, all suggested that the stranger was an elf, who were often known to be druids.

She was about to tell Saito and Sanders to lower their weapons and was relieved to see that they already had done so, although neither still looked happy.

The woman walked to within ten feet and then stopped. The tilt of her head was ample evidence that she was waiting for them to make the next move.

Lumen, as she often did, took the initiative.

"You have powerful friends," the moon elf said, indicating the giant humanoid still standing in the pool.

"I claim nothing; fortune favored me," the veiled figure replied, turning slightly so that the other guessed she was glancing at the beast. "Gray renders choose whom they stay with without any outsider having a say."

Gray render. That name did in fact mean something to Bjorn. He'd heard old Werold legends of certain hermits or other loners being "adopted" by these creatures for reasons unbeknownst even to them. The renders looked after their charges, giving food, protection, and even companionship. The legends had not described them; or perhaps Sigmundson had just forgotten, so he had not made the connection immediately. He gave the woman what he hoped would be taken as a knowing nod.

"Who are you?" the veiled woman asked.

The seven introduced themselves, one at a time. Takahashi and Sebastian finally resheathed their weapons as they did so after a last glance at Lumen.

Caffrine had expected the woman to introduce herself after they had done so, but she immediately then asked, "Why are you here?"

Illumenatta Duskwind, as did Caffrine, often knew the advantages with not always being immediately totally upfront and honest upon first meetings with strangers, but this did not seem to be one of those times. Caffrine relaxed as Lumen gave a brief but accurate account for their reason for being here.

The figure stood silently for a moment, seeming to consider.

"I cannot help you," she said at length, causing Caffrine's heart to plummet into her stomach and stop beating.

"I do not know this Alexania of whom you speak," she continued. "Despite what you, and many others, choose to believe, I am no druid. I simply value my solitude. I can offer you only this. "

Caffrine's heart gave a feeble beat.

"Go northwards, past Talantier, to the Corridor Inn. Speak with the inn owner Lathreda and ask her to bring you to the Druid of Samseed; she will know who you mean. If there is anyone who might know the truth of Alexania's fate and of your sister's as well," she turned towards Caffrine, "it will be he."


"Well, it's something," Dark said as the group went back up through the trail they had come.

"I don't trust her," Takahashi said with a scowl. "Why wouldn't she give us her name? If she's not a druid, why isolate herself down here? There are plenty of less dangerous places for privacy. And why the veils?" the samurai finished with a clear note of frustration. "Least practical method for disguise I can think of!"

"I do not think it was for disguise, my friend," said Lumen quietly. "Those veils could slip off, or be taken off, far too quickly for disguise to be a reasonable conclusion."

"Then what?" asked Oliver, frowning.

Illumenatta waited what seemed to the others to be a very long time before replying.

"My eyes might have been deceiving me, of course," she said finally, "but I do not think our mysterious friend was wearing anything at all underneath those veils."

The others stopped dead and stared at her.

"Well, dang!" Qidarchios exclaimed with a grin, turning to look southwards from where they had come, as if the woman might suddenly appear along the forest path. "Too bad one of those wind gusts couldn't have sprung up at an opportune time. I'd have died to see that!"

"You probably would have, Dark," his cousin and fellow bard said without further explanation as she resumed her stroll.