Hillodania had finished saying good-bye to her temporary comrades, and was walking across the bridge when she heard a familiar voice shout, "Wait up!" Her cheeks turned pink as she realized precisely who that voice belonged to, for as she turned around, she saw Nedra walking sedately up to her from where she had been resting against the wall of the guard-house on the bridge. She started to tense up, but Nedra just smiled and said, "Calm down, I'm not here to make out with you...not yet at least," making calming gestures. The rogue was astonished at the change in her personality from the time she had last known her. This time she seemed more genuine, calmer, and even thoughtful, her tone almost like that of an older sister. Thinking of that link however made her wince. The enchantress raised a blonde eyebrow at her expression, but showed no sign of any intention other than to simply talk with her. Before she could say or ask anything, Hillodania asked immediately, "Just why did you kiss me?" Nedra blinked briefly, then lifted her head and laughed out loud, making Hillodania feel a bit embarrassed at having asked that right off the bat. After she stopped laughing, Nedra asked, "You were that disturbed by it?" "A bit . . . " Hillodania admitted, blushing even further.

Nedra shifted into a more comfortable stance, then looked right into Hillodania's eyes as she explained, "Though you might find it unnatural, I find women attractive in addition to men. Though I'd be more inclined to seek the romantic company of a man, due to my own preferences and beliefs, I'm not going to rule out another woman. I didn't kiss you with the intention of disturbing you; though it was amusing to see how hot and bothered you got. I would not have gone any further without you wanting to, but I wasn't waiting here to proposition you." Hillodania felt relieved, then a confused look came over her face, and she asked, "What for then?" Nedra looked off into the distance as if she was thinking, then turned back and replied, "I got the impression when I was with you in that group that I could trust you . . . trust your instincts as a woman. I heard that you were leaving for this new continent, and I would like you to keep an eye out for an old . . . friend of mine. He's quite an unusual man for a paladin, tall with short brown hair, strong features, gorgeous hazel eyes, he sometimes seems troubled by some sort of inner conflict, as well as seeming out of place here, as if he came from somewhere far away, and his name is . . . " "Azrael," Hillodania finished as she realized whom the high elf was talking about. The older woman smiled warmly, and she remarked, "So, you've met him too, I take it."

Hillodania turned around and stared off into the blue sky off the bridge, speaking over her shoulder, "He saved my life once . . . no, twice. Though I originally thought he was simple, I found out that he was more complex, deeper than I could go in the short time we were together. He wasn't fazed by my flirting with him . . . he saw past it, to my core, in an instant, and he didn't mind, he truly and genuinely cared for me, without hesitation. Even for a paladin, how often do you find that kind of man? Though our personalities probably wouldn't match . . . he made me feel . . . special, like he really valued me for who I was. Do you know what I'm talking about?" Nedra nodded in understanding, and her eyes grew distant as she remembered her time with him. "I met him through a trick by a devious man, but rather than holding a grudge against me, he forgave me for being duped, and although he was flustered by my attentiveness to him, it was like you said, he could see who you were, despite whatever image you wanted to present to him. He seemed . . . lonely when I met him, as if he had left friends and family behind, which I suppose we all did, but I got the impression from him that somehow he couldn't go back to them, at least not for a long time. He was also sad, as if he had the burden of the entire world on his shoulders, and when his confidence slipped a little, the look in his eyes made me want to cry, as I could only wonder how he wasn't crying himself. I tried my best to show him that he wasn't alone during our brief time together, and I can only pray that it helped. He certainly is special though . . . and skilled in many ways, wise beyond his years," she told the younger woman, then surprisingly blushed herself, and added, "Especially in bed." Hillodania's ears went bolt upright and extended out in surprise as she gasped, "You slept with him?"

Nedra noticed her shocked expression, then with a sheepish look, told Hillodania, "It's not like I seduced him! Believe me, I had tried earlier! By being truer to myself, really offering my love to him, that was what caused him to agree I think, on that cold night, when he was so sad, I'm just glad I could provide him with some comfort, even if it was just with my body, but I think he was most soothed by my love rather than the sex." "But still . . . I just can't imagine . . . " Hillodania muttered, her cheeks going red as the mental image of Azrael and Nedra in bed together popped into her head. Just then, Nedra placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked her seriously in the eye. "Though I'm not entirely sure if he felt the same about me during our adventures together, I can see that you felt similarly to me when you had met him. Even though we'll both probably end up with other men than him, I still don't want him to be lonely forever, as it hurts just to see him in that kind of pain . . . I haven't been able to find him since that time, so if you recognize him, all I want you to do is be his friend for a while, and send a letter back to me if you find him, all right?" she asked, no trace of falseness in her voice or in her eyes. Hillodania nodded, and the enchantress smiled with relief, making the rogue wonder just how much that man had really affected the woman.

As she turned to go, Nedra gave her one more piece of advice, "Though you might enjoy it, or find it profitable, don't waste your youth, and your life bouncing from man to man . . . look past to their personality, their mind, find the man that is right for you, or else you'll just end up feeling shallow, for if you don't get love back in return, what's the point of giving it?" Those words struck home as Hillodania realized that's exactly what she had been doing. A solitary tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, as a wave of sadness hit her. Seeing this, Nedra embraced her, and kissed the tear away, not the passionate kiss of before, but like Lsanna used to do, holding her with a warmth that was almost maternal, making Hillodania feel homesick. She hugged the older elven woman for a long time, and then waved good-bye as she went on her way finally.

It had been a long time since she had been back, but seeing the rocky shores of the Butcherblock mountain range made her feel like she had never left. Her heart sank briefly when she remembered that she still wasn't allowed to come back for at least another year or two, but it lifted again when she saw the floating shapes of four new boats in the mist off the other dock. She wondered why they were so small, but before she could ask anybody else waiting with her why, a halfling woman noticed her quizzical expression, and told her, "These aren't the real boats, of course, I heard they're referred to as 'shuttles'. We will only be taking these a short ways until we reach the Maiden's Voyage, which will take us the rest of the way." Hillodania's eyes widened, and she asked in surprised interest, "The Maiden's Voyage? Firiona Vie's ship of old? It still is at sea?" "That it is, still seaworthy after all this time, a finely made ship, although I am leery of going over water despite that. In fact, they named the settlement after her, so we'll be arriving at Firiona Vie, odd, eh?" the halfling chuckled, then looked off into the distance, and pointed, drawing Hillodania's eyes to another shuttle, waiting off in the distance. The others started walking onto the roofs of the shuttles, so she chose the same one as the kindly halfling, as boats mystically started moving, without any crew or oars, just like the normal boats. After all the shuttles had been traveling for a while, they came out into the clearer waters of the Timorous Deep, where a sight like she had never seen before took her breath away. There, waiting for them, was the largest ship ever built, the Maiden's Voyage. It had been meant to take along almost a city's worth of citizens along with Firiona Vie, so of course it had to be big, but she never imagined anything like this! There were even several huts and a long house built on the deck! Lacy sails were tucked up as the wing-like structures that held them were raised so the ship could await the arrival of the shuttles.

It felt like stepping onto a piece of the past, getting on that boat, or so Hillodania thought, as she raced up the ramp off the side of the boat so she could go exploring. After making a tour of the expansive deck, she took a place by the railing, and waited impatiently for the boat to take off. And take off it, did, for as the sails lowered, they filled with wind almost immediately, and they were off like a shot, faster than even the regular boats. As the wind rushed through her hair, Hillodania laughed with delight as she saw seabirds passed by, and when she looked down she saw dolphins swimming alongside the boat, occasionally leaping out of the water. Her troubles were swept away as she reveled in the experience of riding the boat. Great things were awaiting her on this journey, she was sure of it.

The first thing she saw as they neared the city was the immense statue of Firiona Vie herself, with a blue flame in the palm of her hand. She surveyed the town, which was in the process of having many buildings built in addition to the ones already there, as more pilgrims and adventurers arrived. The sails closed up again, and through some unknown means, the ship slowed to a stop precisely before the docks. Hillodania took one last look at the boat before hurrying down the ramp and onto the docks, into the press of people. Though it had gotten to dusk while they were traveling, there were still a great many people about, buying things, but mainly just arriving and getting settled. As twilight wore on, the rogue started to wonder where she would have to spend the night. As she was considering her options, she bumped into the backside of a robed woman standing in front of a stall selling fruit. She was about to apologize when she heard the woman say, "Hillodania, is that you?" She looked up and saw that it was Mmya, the Erudite wizard her sister had been friends with. "Yup, its me," she responded, and they hugged briefly, before the middle-aged woman completed her purchase and waved for Hillodania to walk with her. "Did you just arrive today? I haven't seen you around," the wizard asked, hefting the sack so that it was easier to carry. "Yeah, but with all these people here, I would think the inns wouldn't have any openings," Hillodania told her, walking briskly to keep up. The erudite chuckled, and admitted, "That's true, but thankfully they are setting up communal housing for all the people arriving, I signed out a house for a bunch of people myself, you can stay with us, and I think you'll recognize our fellow tenants." As they walked through the door of the building Mmya had indicated, Hillodania smiled to see almost all of her former companions there; Ursus, Joken, and Mistii were sitting at the large table in the common room. But one person was absent. She looked hopefully at Mmya, but the wizard shook her head sadly. {Just where is my sister?} Hillodania thought to herself as the others welcomed her. Outside, leaning against a hut's wall, a muscular man wearing a monk's clothing grinned brightly, white teeth gleaming under a splendid black moustache, and long raven-colored hair swept back over his shoulders. He thought to himself as he started to walk away, {She's here! I finally found her again!}

Chapter 3 Early Adulthood: Wilting Rose

Hillodania sat down on the fallen pillar and buried her face in her hands and immediately wished she hadn't, as the banded mail was filthy with sweat, dirt, and rust, but at the moment she didn't care as much as she normally would. Tears would wash it clean anyways. Kunark was so full of life . . . yet so empty at the same time. A great deal of the people she had met were either too experienced for her, rushing off towards the center of the continent, or they were headstrong amateurs, convinced that their gear would render them invulnerable to the new monsters encountered here, but they were sadly mistaken.

So far, the rogue had plied her skills against many odd creatures, each more menacing than the last. The big cats here were sabertoothes, fangs almost as long as her forearm, and twice as vicious as any lion on Antonica. Bizarre, misshapen goblins, such a departure from the almost comical creatures she had fought as a younger woman, with their dark green hides, misbalanced arms, and gaping, fang-filled maw. Lizardmen in two varieties, both as cruel as the other. One race lived in a city at the far end of a long plain off from a large lake they had found, a malicious band of bandits, covered in metallic blue scales, and shaped almost like a man with the exception of their clawed hands, tails, and reptilian heads. The other russet-scaled race had members that were tall and spindly, but incredibly strong, with three horns protruding from their dragonesque heads, elongated and beaked, their tails spiked.

There were skeletons, like any other place, but they were of the more humanoid Lizardmen, reputedly called Iksar by the citizens of Firiona Vie, and they were either charred or frozen, an odd dichotomy, but each was deadly in their own way. She had found that the earliest kinds of each creature she had found were far too early, after leaving the river, but working her way to the other side of the lake produced far more powerful versions, and it was upon these that she practiced her skills. However, she paid a high price for each victory, as these creatures fought like nothing she had previously experienced. Even the Aviaks did not have as hard a punch as an angry Sarnak, as the dragon men were called.

She was one of a few people in their mid-twentieth seasons, but they preferred to fight alone, or explore, too often getting in over their heads. She suspected it was only by her luck that she too hadn't perished, her body laying around in the sun, waiting for a rare cleric to find it before it was too late, as it frequently was for those hapless adventurers. Almost every day she had come out here to the Lake of Ill Omen, she was alone, and she hated it. Even when she was walking along the streets of Firiona Vie, there was nobody to talk to, nobody to pay attention to her; everyone was rushing about on their own business. Pilgrims never talked to anyone, and people getting off the boat were too occupied with heading off into the mainland to stay and talk awhile. She couldn't even flirt with anyone but the guards, and they were not permitted to leave their posts, which they seemed to occupy twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Her only solace was returning 'home', to stay with her friends, but they too were busy, either recovering from their own expeditions or preparing for another. She felt . . . abandoned; yet it was she who had chosen to come here.

And it was not like she could leave, as too many people flooded off the boat for her to get on before it left, and wizards and druids weren't interested in teleporting off the island, the druid ring and wizard spire were choked with casters and their passengers arriving. It was odd to her then, that there should be so few people around her experience level here. If she was her usual self, she would've thought about it and shrugged it off, but today she was crying her eyes out on that marble pillar.

After a good long cry, she looked up with puffy eyes to see a setting sun, it was nearly time to head back. Though she had no fear of the dark, or the creatures in it, even the random few people she might encountered headed back to Firiona Vie for dinner and companionship, of which she could currently only find one of the two. Sniffling, she leapt off of the pillar and began walking along the sandy coast of the lake back towards the river. Several meters away, the monk watched her with fists clenched in helplessness. {Why didn't I go to her? Try to comfort her? Why am I so nervous?} he thought in anguish, but eventually gave up, shaking his head, and walked after her.

The next day . . .

Hillodania hadn't bothered trying to put make-up on that morning, as she was just too tired from the previous day. Still, people glanced twice or more as she passed them in the streets. As she went towards the groceries vendor to do her assigned shopping, she noticed a curious flyer attached to the side of one of the huts. On it was drawn the face of a human man, with long black beaded moustaches and a cocky smile. The poster also read:

WANTED Gallandros Quicksilver For burglary, accused of murder, and suspected of rape. Report all sightings to the local garrison. To be brought in alive if possible.

{What a swell guy,} she thought to herself in a amusement, studying his features. She then noticed that the bottom of the flyer had peeled up from the wall, and she pulled it down again and looked at what had been covered up: Reward for capture: 3000 platinum pieces, payable immediately upon delivery. Her eyes started to sparkle like newly minted coins. Three thousand! For this one man! She had close to twelve thousand in the bank from the gem and ingot haul, but she could always use more, oh yes. The biggest bounty she had ever heard of before was for a serial killer, and that was for five thousand, and this guy was only accused of murder and he was nearly worth as much.

She looked again at the bottom of the poster to see if it mentioned his local hangouts, but there was nothing beyond the reward mentioned on the parchment. {Oh well, he can't have gone far if this was posted just this morning! Better take a look around . . .} she thought eagerly, and no sooner had the last cucumber been placed in her shopping bag and she was off like a shot back to the communal house to grab her gear.

Ten minutes later, after a hard dash along the river avoiding drachnids, odd centaur-like spiders with the lower body of a giant spider and the upper body of a dark elf, she was back at the Lake of Ill Omen, searching everywhere. She was just about to give up when she heard a rough, rowdy voice remark, "Looking for someone, buttercup?" Leaning nonchalantly against one of the many odd menhirs around the hills was the man from the picture in the flesh, Gallandros! She smiled half to herself, as she knew from experience that the most self-confident thieves were often the least skilled. But as she started to draw her daggers, in a flash, he wasn't there anymore. Her eyes flickered, looking for him, but before she could draw the blades out fully, she felt a sharp edge against her throat.

Gallandros leaned over her shoulder and tsked, and said, "Ah ah ah ah . . . Feisty little filly, aren't cha? I take it you weren't out here to dance, not with the shivs you're packing." The arrogant man winked at her lasciviously, and added, "Or maybe you were lookin for a bit of two-bladed tango, eh? However good you may be, you gotta have a quick draw if you have any hope 'a winnin, y'see?" Quicker than her eye could follow, he had a second dagger up close against her ribs. With a leer, he started to move his hand up and move his waist in closer, but he stopped when he felt a sharp prick against his groin. Looking down, he saw that while her daggers weren't out of their loops, he had been inches away from giving himself a do-it-yourself castration. Hillodania gave him a wink with her big green eyes, and retorted, "And sometimes, all you need is luck."

The other rogue withdrew and rubbed in relief at his intact manhood as covertly as he could, halfway between a smile and a grimace. "Point . . . taken, filly. But yer not off the hook yet, I always catch my fish. Toodles!" he muttered, then leapt away, pulling a periwinkle blue bandana over his face.

Though she had nearly been a victim herself, she had gotten a clear look at him. He looked like a bandit from old Freeport Westerns, what with his leather pants, chain tunic, fancy leather wristbands, and that flashy bandana, but his skills were no laughing manner. With a quick-draw like that, she wouldn't stand a chance if she couldn't catch him off guard. Not an easy task against another rogue, but his being human gave her an advantage. If she could hear even a sign of his drawing near, she might retain some element of surprise against him. And with a little 'luck', who knows?

"Are you INSANE?!" The shout was amplified by the small room, and compared to the relative silence of just a few moments before, the cry had been deafening, especially to someone with as sensitive hearing as one certain wood elf. "Do you think you could say it just a bit louder?" Hillodania asked sarcastically, massaging one long aching ear. She winced as she shook her head and looked at Mmya, standing there with brush still in hand, who was looking at her incredulously, an obstinate look set on her face. Since she had been brushing the rogue's red locks just a minute before she had announced her plans to continue to pursue Gallandros, her grumpy look coupled with her hands-on-hips with legs splayed now reminded her almost amusingly of her scolding at the hand of her mother. Taking a deep breath, the Erudite woman finally said, "Sorry, but could you at least let me ask you why you got this fool plan into your head? Racial differences aside, fighting a man of his experience is just plain nuts! I've heard the stories, they say he's killed at least eight men, or at least they've never been heard from again!"

With a confident smirk, the younger woman gave the wizard a thumbs-up. "I think you're underestimating how much advantage being a wood elf gives me. I can likely hear him coming a mile away, I'm twice as agile, plus, I've got my 'luck'; what can go wrong?" she explained as if boasting about skill at playing cards. Shaking her head, Mmya started brushing Hillodania's auburn hair again, fixing the tangles she had inadvertently caused before. As she ran the brush through the long strands, the older woman remarked, "Hubris is the end of many a man . . . Think seriously on what you're going to attempt. As you say, this man may prove to be dangerously overconfident, allowing for some slim margin of victory, but I still think you're risking yourself far too much with your fool plan. Remember, if you should die in your attempt capturing this criminal, I can't guarantee you that it'll be in sight of a cleric who is able to resurrect you. I'm sure you don't want a permanent death to come out of some excessive pride in your abilities!"

Hillodania's smile faded into a stubborn sulk as she sat in silence, listening to the sound of the brush gliding through her hair. Finally finished, Mmya set the comb down on their shared dresser and moved off to her cot on her side of the women's floor. Mistii was already asleep, sprawled out on her own cot, which was slightly too small for her, her legs dangling over the edge. They had convinced her earlier to let them undo her braids, and they had found that despite the surprisingly healthy state of her hair, the amount of dirt and grime in her blond tresses was considerable, so they had to not only shampoo her hair, but force her to take a bath as well. Evidently, the Barbarian women were almost as unscrupulous about hygiene as the men! As Mmya pulled the covers up to her chest, and was about to extinguish the candle on the windowsill, Hillodania repeated one last time, "I will win."

As she weaved along the river going away from her as she ran towards the Lake of Ill Omen, she went over the strategy in her head for the thousandth time. She had last seen him fleeing in the direction of the Frontier Mountains, a heavily wooded area, at least along the sides of the mountains, the valley, despite its many dips and crevasses, was too open for a sufficiently stealthy attack. This was good in that she could see the man coming, but she too would have no cover. That, and she didn't want to be chanced upon by a mountain giant, brute, or Burynai. The way she had thought of it was to find him wherever he was hiding, lure him into the trees, and begin to use her race's arboreal ancestry to her advantage. Weaving through the trees costs most people valuable time and maneuvering room, as well as creating a lot of noise. Even if he somehow could leap into the trees after her, his weight, plus poorer agility, would creak and snap the branches as he landed on them. No matter if he had a quick draw, if she moved quick enough and was lucky enough, all he would damage was bark.

After an uneventful dash through the lake's vicinity, she found herself looking out over the valley through the middle of the Frontier Mountains. Reminding herself of the dangers of the area, she carefully made her way along the pass leading out into the main area, and worked her way into the trees. She had gone but thirty feet, when she heard a voice say, "Hiya, toots." Instinctively, she ducked, and heard the scrape of steel against bark a split second later as a dagger strike that could have half cleaved her head off impacted against a nearby tree. Not resting for an instant, she leapt off to the slide, and slid down the slope a bit, but she was upright and facing her attacker. Gallandros wrenched his long knife out of the tree and shook it to flick off the splinters that were still on it. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the edge, then lowered it slightly to leer at her. "I told ya I'd be back . . . I ain't going to go easy on you this time, babe," he remarked, and as the last words passed his teeth he was dashing towards her at a frightening speed. With a grunt of effort, Hillodania backflipped up onto a branch over head and sprung to a more advantageous perch. As the human rogue tracked her, Hillodania thought to herself, {Ok, Stage 1, completed . . . what the?!} With less effort than it had cost her, Gallandros leapt up, caught a branch in one hand, and pulled himself up onto it, then lunged at her again.

Only by vaulting to another branch saved her bacon as Gallandros' blade found only plant not flesh. Taking a risk, she flung herself backwards like a gymnast, and caught another branch, swung on it, and pushed off to a much higher branch. She could only catch flickers of movement as Gallandros moved towards her again, moving like lighting through the boughs. {So fast . . . } she thought, but before she could complete her sentence, she had to again dodge aside as the human man reached her. She was already breathing hard with exertion, while Gallandros just grinned consistently, the beads on his moustache clinking as he bounced from limb to limb. As she fled, she came to the realization that he was expecting her to run, and if she continued to follow this strategy, he'd wear her out and catch her, despite her best efforts.

{Time to do something unexpected . . . } she thought silently as rather than leaping away to a new tree, she rebounded off the trunk right back at the approaching Gallandros, much to his shock. The surprise faded swiftly though, as he started his blinding draw to catch her as she neared him. However, gold flecks flickered across Hillodania's eyes, and the dagger caught in its hilt. This time it was his turn to dodge as Hillodania's blade lashed out, carving a thin line into his cheek. She caught a branch as she neared a tree, and bounded off to a safer perch as she watched for his reaction. He placed on hand on his cheek, and when he drew it away he beheld a reddened palm. Grimacing in anger rather than pain, he drew the dagger all the way out of the hilt and shouted, "I was going to spare your life, but now you've done got me angry, witch, and all the luck in the world is going to save you this time!" With a roar, he disappeared from sight, only to reappear a scant second later right in front of her face, his dagger poised to strike. She managed to block his strike and leap away, but he was right with her, blades flashing, and it was all that she could do to keep one from reaching her heart.

Trusting her luck to keep her safe, she turned away from his in one leap in an attempt at finding a place to extend the distance between him and her, but as she leapt, his hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. She yanked it from his grasp, but her balance was shot, and instead of finding a new place to stand, she impacted the branch with her stomach instead, knocking the wind out of her. She fell backwards, and narrowly avoided the dagger that plunged towards her neck, but struck the branch instead. She managed to land on a lower branch, but she screamed as a dagger pierced her side. Gallandros had landed perfectly, and now one of his blades was buried three inches deep in her right side. A flick from his knife, and a red line appeared on her right wrist, causing her to drop her dirk, and he pinned her left hand with ease. Finally started to smile again, he leaned in close to her face, and told her, "You're good, babe, but me? I'm magic." Assured of his prize, he extracted the dagger and prepared to stab again, this time for her heart.

In agony, Hillodania lashed out with her power, forcing all her remaining strength into the ability. As her corneas turned as gold as burnished coins, the limb they were both standing on started to crack and groan under their weight. Its sudden weakness revealed, it gave way in its middle, falling to the mountain floor. His foothold gone, Gallandros toppled with it, only to land in the arms of a surprised ravenous brute. As he looked up into the simian face, the rogue gulped nervously and remarked, "You ain't exactly my idea of a blind date . . . " The brute bellowed and hurled the rogue away towards a rock, but the man managed to hit it with his feet rather than his head. "Man, that smarts . . . " he muttered as he dashed away from the orange-furred behemoth who was lumbering at a great pace towards him. Hillodania wasn't watching him go however. She slumped against what was left of the branch, clamping her hand over the wound burning between her ribs. Blood wasn't flowing out of the wound like previous stab injuries, but was spurting. If she didn't get some help soon, she would bleed to death before she could get back to Firiona Vie. Regardless, she had to try, she might meet someone along the way.

She tried to raise her voice for a shout for help, but breath wouldn't come, her lungs felt tight, and she could only get air through small gasps. Leaping out of the tree, her ankles nearly buckled as she hit the ground, her head swimming dizzily. Off in the distance, she saw some sort of fort on the hill. Not caring what kind of creatures or people dwelling within it, she hobbled off in that direction. She could see a few people sitting outside the gigantic door, and she stumbled towards them, try to call out a greeting. Her vision was starting to blur, and she collapsed to the ground. She saw two of the group get up and rush over as her vision faded to black.

She woke up in her own cot back in Firiona Vie, and blinked in surprise. Her side still hurt, and it still felt tight, but she could breath, and moving didn't bring excessive pain. An experimental pat on her ribs revealed that they were bandaged up. "Apparently, it's starting to become habit for me to bind up all kinds of elves near death . . . not that I mind with a Feir'Dal, but I wish I could run into a Koada'Dal once in a while," someone said off to her right, and she saw a high elven magician sitting on a stool some distance away. He had white wavy hair tucked into an odd rounded ponytail or braid, she couldn't tell which, and he wore brilliant red robes. "I'm Zektoll, my comrade would have come with me, but they dislike dark elves and necromancers, so he's got two counts against him, not that I care, but he did help too, in his own way," he explained. "Thank you," she replied softly, not wanting to dare saying anything louder. Something in his oddly dark eyes reminded her of someone, but before she could probe further, Mmya walked into the room carrying her dinner. The mage got up, waved briefly to the wizard, then headed out of the room, while the wizard started in on a tirade about curiosity killing the cat, and such things, so suffice to say, once she actually got her food, it was stone cold. {This is not my day . . . } she thought bitterly as she choked down some frigid peas as she looked out the window. As she finished her late dinner, she lifted up the bandage to look at her wound. An angry, red, puffy scar greeted her, and she groaned in dismay. {Oh well, so long as I'm not showing my chest to anyone too often, this won't mar my looks too much . . . I hope,} she thought sadly, lowering the bandage, flopping down onto her uninjured side and surprised herself by falling asleep quickly.

As people move along in a crowd, sometimes they'll look up, only if to catch a brief glimpse of sky before returning to the hubbub they are struggling along in. But every so often, there's actually something of interest to hold their view, which will make them slow or even stop. The thing most currently holding the attention of two-dozen pilgrims? Namely a certain red-haired rogue, balancing atop a thin pole forty feet in the air on one foot. She, however, could care less about their gawking. Aside from avoiding falling, there was but one thought on her mind: how to defeat Gallandros. It had been nearly two weeks since Hillodania had last fought him, and she kept going over that battle in her head over and over, analyzing the events for any detail that might turn the odds in her favor. But each half-formulated idea crumbled as the issue of his inhuman speed kept cropping up. {Argh, I hit him once, but that's the only time I got him! He just keeps coming and coming . . . How can I capture or kill a man that strikes like the wind? What I need is something that would allow me to exploit that one strike . . . but what?} she thought to herself as she swayed slightly in the breeze, her auburn hair flowing freely over her shoulders.

Eventually, she gave up thinking and let her mind drift, her ears catching the chatter of the busy marketplace below her feet. But one merchant's cry held her ear longer than the others . . . "Poisons for sale! Add a little extra unexpected bite to your dagger or spear! They'll never see it coming! For the enterprising rogue or warrior, but you need a rogue to apply them, you can't forget that! All it takes is one hit and their world will never be the same!" Then it hit her harder than a drunken ogre warrior after a few dozen ales . . . she could cut Gallandros down to size by reducing his speed with poison! As a rogue, it was perfect! She knew from painful experience that he didn't bother with coating his daggers with any, counting on his lightning draw to kill any enemy. If she could hit him just once . . . then the poison would take effect and she could finally nail him.

She leapt down from the pole and hurried over to a hut where a bored- looking dwarf in chain-mail called from where he leaned against the door- frame. "Have you got anything that will reduce an enemy's movement or attacking speed?" she asked excitedly, nearly panting from her effort of getting down there that quickly. The dwarven rogue blinked, as the arrival of his perhaps only patron was entirely unexpected. But as her question sank in, he shook his head and replied, "Lass, A' only have th' components fer makin' th' most basic of poison's, if ye wannnae get sooch a complicated serum, then ye'll have tae search for 'em yerself!" As her face fell, he studied her looks for a while, hemming and hawing, and finally, his reluctance melted as his gruffness could not stand before a girl with such looks, and explained, "Look, A'm sure ye have no bloody idea where t'begin t'get such things, especially since A' dinnae give ye a recipe or even the location of each item! Ye'll have to train in th' skill tae first make the ruddy poison, then t'apply it. It'll take a woile, so dinnae be expectin' to be done with this tomorra!" He took out a fresh piece of parchment and scratched out a list of items for three separate poisons, along with the name of the place to get them. "Before ye go, ye'll probably need hundreds of these bloody things 'ere . . . " he said, waving to a couple cases of vials setting inside the hut. Hillodania grimaced, but took out her purse nonetheless.

Many days later . . .

"I never want to see another spider or snake as long as I live . . . " Hillodania muttered as she closed the seal on the last of many vials, finally done. It had taken her ages, but she was close to mastering the nearly forgotten skill, in fact, the trainer in the outpost almost laughed at her when she said she wanted to begin practicing it, telling her that every rogue tried it, but gave up after a few tries, but she had the resources for it, and had stuck with it. A well-used mortar and pestle sat on the table next to her, and stacks of poison vials littered the table and floor. Most of the lesser ones she would sell, but she was planning on keeping many. She lifted one vial up to her face and smiled tiredly at the contents. Lethargic Bliss. Though trivial to further her skill now, it was going to be her ace in the hole, with it, she would cut Gallandros' speed in half. Just then the door opened, and Mmya walked in, carrying a tray of food. "You missed dinner again; honestly girl, what are you doing that would cause you to not hear me calling a few hundred times?" the Erudite grumbled, clearing off a place to set the food down. "Well, with what I've been touching, I doubt I'd want to get anywhere near food without washing my hands thoroughly," Hillodania replied, only half jokingly. As the wood elf stood up and went over to a wash basin and began scouring her hands with soap and a rough wash brush, it dawned upon the wizard what her young friend was going to try. "You really think this'll help?" she asked quietly, not having to say out loud what she meant, or what she thought about her plan. "Of course . . . "

Following the instructions given to her a few weeks before, well-honed by this time, Hillodania carefully coated her daggers with the volatile poison, being careful not to let the blades get too sticky, or too dull. The trick was to get just enough on so that it would take effect immediately upon the blade piercing the skin, but not so much that it would coat the edge, making it not penetrate correctly, or to cause it to stick in it's sheath. This done, she walked out the front door, breaking into a run as she cleared the crowd. Though she didn't know where she would find him, she was ready to face Gallandros once more. The scar on her ribs demanded as much. She was running along the river heading towards the lake, when she heard a rapid but quiet pounding noise coming up on her side. Not willing to take the chance it was a friendly druid or shaman passing through, she jumped aside just as two throwing daggers lanced through the air her back had occupied just a few seconds before. "Lookin' for someone, darlin'? Well, you didn't find me, I found you!" a familiar voice drawled, as she whipped into a ready position. Gallandros was pulling his daggers from his belt with his usual flashy confidence, but there was a look of determination on his face, and . . . anger?

{This is it . . . } Hillodania thought to herself as she readied her own blades. A quick look around revealed the most dangerous possible fighting environment possible. Fallen pillars, menhirs, the river, and trees, many roaming Drachnids . . . all would provide barriers and obstacles to trip her up. Unless she could use these to her advantage, this could end very quickly, and very, very messily. Soon, she didn't have time to think, as the human man burst forwards. Fresh without having to travel as far as last time, she had far more energy, which she chose to devote almost entirely to her 'luck'. As it stood, it was the only thing keeping those flashing silver edges from her throat. She dashed through the dark forest's trees indiscriminately, trying to keep an eye on her pursuer. Occasionally a dagger would flash out of the darkness, and she would have to parry, but no sooner had that slowed her down when two more would lunge out to try and catch a piece of her. Tiring, she saw a coastline, and made for it, knowing that if she could only see him, she might have a chance. Putting on a burst of speed, she handspringed up to the top of a fallen pillar. Gallandros was right behind her, but as he bounded up, something unexpected occurred. As he landed on the ridged surface, the ancient stone under his left foot broke and he stumbled backwards.

{NOW!!!} With that thought, she drove her dagger forwards, and it plunged with a satisfying thunk into his leg. Cursing, he staggered backwards, and after shaking his head a few times, he burst forwards again with the same exact speed as before! {It didn't work?} she thought in a panic, trying to dodge between the pillars as she dodged backwards. But as they dashed into an abandoned ruin, she found his blows coming slower . . . and slower . . . until they were no faster than any other rogue's she had encountered. And his legs moved painstakingly slow, the poison plus his injury slowing him to a crawl. He was still quick, but now they were on the same level. Gold flecks flashing across her eyes, she finally laid into him with all her strength. Though he had chosen quick blades, hers did slightly more damage, and with a burst of magic, the effects of her stiletto and dirk activated, slowing him even further, while causing him to wince from the damage over time spell. But just as she thought she was winning, Gallandros' eyes flashed and without warning his speed leapt back up to normal, and he shoved her backwards onto the sand. She scrabbled backwards, unprepared for this event, and he pinned her to the ground, pulling her daggers from her.

Keeping one large foot on her ample chest, he experimentally sniffed her blade, and smirked as his suspicions were confirmed. "Clever, babe, but it'll take more than a little poison to take me out! The particular stuff you used, in fact, barely lasts more than a few minutes!" Hillodania gasped as she realized she hadn't bothered to ask the dwarf about the duration of the poison. She had assumed it would last at least long enough to take his head, but this was a deadly miscalculation. "Let's see how you take it, shall we?" he asked, and reversed her dirk, holding it directly over her heart. No matter how she squirmed, he was too heavy, she couldn't get out from under him. Though she was sure she could handle the poison, she couldn't survive a stab to the heart! But even as he raised his arm, she heard something she never expected to hear, but her heart jumped in hope at hearing. "Halt, villain! For all of Feir'Dal!" It was the guards! Their battle had not taken them to the cliffs as she had feared, but right to the gates of Firiona Vie! "Oh crap . . . " Gallandros muttered, and turned to leave, but as he tried to run, the guards caught up to him and smashed him over the head with their swords and shields. Though he had hidden it well, he had been closer to failure than he realized, as his lightning dash had been slowed by the punishment Hillodania had dealt to him in those brief moments.

"You'll still give me the reward?" Hillodania said incredulously, sitting in the sheriff's office, scratching at a minor scab that had been ignored by Joken as he healed her wounds at the house earlier. "Well, yes. If you hadn't managed to lure him that close to the outpost, we'd have never have caught the bastard! It's funny though . . . for all his bluster, he's never actually killed anybody . . . " the sheriff said, turning away from the bags of money sitting on his desk to look out the building's window. "Say what?!?!" Hillodania gasped, staring at the other wood elf's back. "Well, he may have, but so far, we've gathered from witness accounts, he never does the deed himself, preferring to let them get mauled by a wandering monster; his odd sort of 'bandit honor' makes him give them a fighting chance to make it to safety, not that they ever do. Still, I think we can chalk it up to manslaughter in any case . . . you should feel honored that he was willing to make you his first murder victim!" he said jokingly, but Hillodania didn't hear him. "Never killed anyone? But why was there that price on his head? And why would he want to kill me, if he never did it directly to anyone else? Was he set up?" she asked, half to herself, but the sheriff's eyes tightened, and he waved distantly, and remarked quietly, "Take the money and go. Your job is done here."

After the banker waved goodbye, it was Hillodania's turn to gaze at the sky as she walked along. Why had Gallandros been wanted that badly? Why go to all that effort to capture him? Had she risked her life for some sort of farce just to get rid of a powerful rival to the guards? These and many other thoughts filled her head, and she didn't realize she was home until she placed her hand on the doorknob. But as she pushed the door in, she began to realize just how filthy and sweaty she had gotten in her duel of the speed demons. " . . . I need a bath . . . " she groaned.

It was not usually fun drawing water to take a bath, but having an eight- foot tall barbarian to carry the buckets and a wizard to heat the water, it was not long before Hillodania was able to settle in after scrubbing herself clean. As she relaxed in the hot water, letting the heat work out the sore muscles and aching tendons, the thoughts she had come up with earlier in the day returned to her. The more she thought about Gallandros, the more he didn't make sense to her. Why would he be charged with murder if he never killed anyone? Just what had he done to warrant such a huge reward if murder wasn't the reason? And why would they put up a reward poster rather than search for him themselves? The guards were better equipped, knew the area well, and were more experienced. At the moment she had no answers, but she did know that if she asked the sheriff again, he would either blow her off or make up some reason. The only way she could possibly find out the real reason would be to break into the cell block and talk to Gallandros himself. {Yeah, right . . . Chit-chat with a man who wants me dead? Still . . . its better than having to listen to the floorboards groaning and cracking every time Ursus turns over in his sleep . . . } she thought to herself, running her hands through her wet hair.

{What am I doing here?} Hillodania asked herself mentally as she crouched on the roof of the makeshift prison. Of course, she already knew the answer to that question, why else would she be leaping silently to the ground and dashing inside if she did not intend to be there, to interrogate the man she had helped bring in not ten hours ago? It was midnight, the witching hour, but there was still a solitary guard on watch at all times near the cells, along with the graveyard shift of guards patrolling the paths, but they would retire anyways in a few minutes. Getting in was no problem, though she'd have to blend into the shadows to get back out again without being spotted. Piece of cake . . . but you never knew when you'd encounter a guard that had a 'see invisible' spell or effect on them. Once she was certain she wasn't going to be spotted, she reappeared, but kept silent, and slunk past the few empty cells to the only one that was actually occupied. Gallandros appeared to be sleeping, but Hillodania wasn't fooled. Few rogues slept this early, unless they were sure they were safe. Only nuts would be out past three in the morning, unless they were on a long heist, but even then, that was pushing it. Sure enough, as she drew nearer to the bars, she heard him whisper, "Cute, kid, come to make fun of me? Or filch my personal affects?"

She had thought she was prepared for what she would do if she found him alert, but he still managed to shock her. She struggled for a moment to come up with a response, but finally she shot back, "What, not 'babe' or 'darlin'?" Gallandros' eyes came open in a glare and he stared at her for a while before muttering, "Get lost, kid, you got lucky, nothin' to brag about, be years before you're able to beat me in a straight fight." Frustrated, she shook her head and put her face dangerously close to the bars, and replied, "That's not why I'm here . . . I'm here to ask you why those sheriffs wanted you captured so badly." Gallandros lowered his arms where they had been resting on his chest. "You saw the poster, you know why," he told her, but something in his voice sounded uncertain. "Uh uh, I want to hear your version of the story. So tell me . . . just what did you do to become worth three grand?" The human man grumbled under his breath, but with her sharp hearing, she was able to pick out, " . . . wouldn't believe me anyway..." So she said, "Try me, I just want to know." In a split second, Gallandros' face was right in front of hers, causing her to rear back. "Ya promise not to dismiss it right away or laugh it off if I tell ya?" he asked, his eyes wild, as if he had been holding this story in for ages. She was half ready to just refuse and walk away, but she stayed, because his urgency didn't sound like his story was an embarrassing one . . . in fact, he sounded worried, almost frantic. So she nodded, without saying anything.

In a rush, a flood of words tumbled out of his mouth . . . "It all started just a few months after I got here, not more than a month ago. It was before all of you guys started showing up, which now that I look back on it, was probably a mistake, as its not good for the guards to know what your face looks like . . . if you're a rogue that is. Anyway . . . I had to lay low for a while, get them used to seeing me around, so they wouldn't get suspicious. I also figured that if things got ugly, I could simply hop on the next ship back. But things didn't work out that way. The night I finally decided was right for a heist was the night when it all changed. I had just completed checking one house, finding nothing of worth, when I heard an odd sound. I still can't describe it, I'll have to try later. I thought it was the guards, so I hid for a bit. But there was nobody out on the streets except for what appeared to be this old guy, shuffling along. However, this geezer was shufflin' awfully quick. At first, I thought he was running from something, but he was heading right for me, even though I was invisible at the moment. He was also dragging along a sack of somethin' . . . which I think was gems and jewelry, because I saw a gold necklace dangling out. Anyways, he was right up close where I could get a good look at him in a half minute.

This is where it gets weird . . . I thought at first that his face had been obscured by shadow at a distance, but I saw that it was pitch black, as if it was carved from black stone, or painted with some kinda oil . . . Also, his eyes were closed, but he seemed to have no trouble getting along. The old freak had slowed down by then, to where he was only a few feet away from me when he stopped. Though nobody can see with their eyes closed, I knew he could see me . . . I was getting ready to run when his eyes popped open! They were yellow and glowing, like some kinda insect's eyes, nasty stuff! Before I knew it, grandpa there lunged forwards and tried to bite me! He had teeth, black as his face, but he also had these weird kinda mandible thingies, like you'd see on an ant. I managed to get aside of course, but he tried again and again, making a lot of ruckus. I needed to get out before I got caught, so I showed this freak my super-deluxe fast- draw. Poppy goes down, but he staggers to his feet again in a heartbeat! This time, instead of trying to gnaw on me, he suddenly gets his youth back and headbutts me in the arm almost faster than I could have! This seemed to exhaust him, as he collapsed to the ground and started twitching. My arm was burning, but before I could run, a window flew open and this woman looks right at me, then sees the body of the freak lying there. She shrieks, and I'm on the run.

I later found out that they found the freak's bag of riches and assumed it was mine . . . and they also found his body . . . though here's the thing, it was missing the head! They think I cut it off . . . but I only slashed him across the chest! It wasn't long before that poster went up. I tried to resort to my original plan to escape on the next boat, but every time I tried, this weird black insect thing would appear out of nowhere and start chasing me every time I got close to Firiona Vie. It looks like nothing else I've seen . . . like some kinda monster caterpillar, with a couple dozen legs, and quick as all hell. I can always tell its coming too, because every so often it makes that same odd sound I heard that first night."

Hillodania pursed her lips and thought on what he was saying. Sure, it sounded ridiculous, but he should have been able to get out of the city easily, even in broad daylight, unless he was being chased by this odd speed bug who could apparently even see him when he was hidden. Still, she was skeptical. "Are you sure you didn't kill him? There have been eyewitnesses . . . " she began, but he replied tiredly, "Kid, I'm a thief, always have been. My quick draw was something I developed in case I got caught, but I never wanted to kill anyone, the guys I dueled just weren't lucky, unlike you." "Still . . . " she murmured, but she happened to glance out the window, and noticed it was getting on in the night . . . the moonlight was cascading down onto the outpost, bathing everything in a faint silver light. She turned back and asked what she hoped would be your final question, "So, this bug of yours, are you sure it isn't just some odd Drachnid?" He violently shook his head, and responded, "No it ain't! It's smaller than a man . . . and that sound it makes...its not quite a chirp, not really a screech, it sounds kinda like . . . " Chkthkatikachaaaaaw!!!!" That."

Gallandros started to shake the bars lightly, and begged, "Get me outta here! I can show you it, prove it's real, but you've gotta let me out! At least then I can run from it, I promise I won't do anything . . . . . . please!" "All right . . . quiet down . . . I know I'm going to regret this . . . " Hillodania muttered as she took out her lockpicks and undid the latch on his cell. In a flash, Gallandros was over at the box with his belongings and was suiting up. Soon, she found herself peering around a corner with Gallandros right behind her. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, she didn't trust him being this close, but she couldn't deny that she had heard that otherworldly screech. But after a minute of searching, they hadn't found anything, and she was starting to doubt her actions when Gallandros' hand tightened on her shoulder like a vise as he pointed off to her side. There, she could see something long, black, and shiny slithering out of a house's window. At first she thought it was a snake, moonlight shining off its scales, but she could see the many small but powerful legs working as it carried the segmented body to the ground. It was the creature Gallandros had mentioned, but it was weirder than fiction seeing it for real. With a shock, she saw instead of an insectlike head, it had a blank, featureless human head with small antennae erupting out of its forehead. Also, clutched in its first few sets of legs were various coins and pieces of jewelry. She remembered that a few kinds of insects collected shiny things, but what it did next was nothing she expected. Though she couldn't see a mouth earlier, one opened up and it fed the gold and jewels right into the black slit, as it had no lips, and no teeth she could see.

As she looked closer, she could see something on its forehead in between the two antennae. An odd sigil, a circle containing a hexagon made up of seven triangles. Most of it looked almost carved, as if etched into stone, but the central triangle was a dark crystal, that almost seemed to glow faintly. "Why's it . . . eating those?" she asked softly. "Don't have a clue . . . when I was a kid I'd swallow the odd coin or gem to filch them, but if you get a piece too large or jagged, it'd tear up your insides," Gallandros replied, his daggers in his hands. They didn't have much time to contemplate this odd behavior, because the bug's blank eyes turned their way and it gave a low chitter. The human rogue's breath caught in his throat and he started to back up, but even as he took his first step, two yellow slits opened in the bug's head, and two black mandibles unfurled from the mouth and it surged forwards with blinding speed! Hillodania tried to get her own daggers out, but it ran right past her to attack Gallandros. Their movements became a blur as Gallandros tried to get away and dodge, rather than attacking, but the bug seemed to be even faster than him! Hillodania went a different way, trying to find a different angle to attack the creature at, but the two figures were racing about all over town, she could barely get a bead on them.

After futilely chasing them for a few minutes, she crouched up against a wall, deciding to wait until they came her way again. She carefully peered around the corner, and saw no movement, save for the distant waving of the trees. Without warning, a hand fell on her shoulder, and she nearly shrieked. "I . . . think . . . I . . . I think I lost it," Gallandros panted. His armor was all torn up and bloody, and one of his daggers was missing. His eyes darted every which way, looking for some hint of the demonic insect. But something besides his disheveled state caught her eye. On his arm was the exact same sigil as on the bug's 'head'. "What's that thing on your arm, it looks like . . . " she began, but he answered quickly without looking at her. "Don't know and don't care. That's the burn mark from where the damned thing got me when I first encountered it. Somehow, that old geezer and this bug are the same thing." {What if they are the same?} she wondered, but before she could say anything else, they saw the creature bearing down on them.

"Run, kid! Get out into the forest and to the river, it won't follow over water, don't try to swim though!" he yelled over his shoulder as he attacked the bug. She didn't want to leave him to fight it alone, but this was way out of her league. She was best taking his advice. As she ran off, Gallandros gave it his all, and finally penetrated through the bug's quicksilver parries and managed to slash and pierce it dozens of times. With a pathetic squeak, the bug sagged to the ground, and started twitching slowly. This was what the 'old man' had done the first time he injured it, so he wasn't convinced it was dead yet. He crept up slowly, and tapped it with his foot, drawing it back quickly, but it didn't move. He calmed down slightly, until he saw something that made his blood run cold. The wounds on the bug's body, where a thick black ichor was seeping out were sealing themselves back up, slowly but surely. He lifted his knife to stab it in the head, but his hand stopped and his mouth dropped open at what he saw. The thing's face was changing, bulging, features forming. It only took a few seconds, but a replica of his face was duplicated. "What the . . . ?" he muttered, staring at the odd sight. As the final pierce wound faded, the thing slowly raised its head, and its copy of his mouth 'grinned'. And then it moved. Gallandros didn't even have time to scream.