Section Four: Travel's Start and Treachery's Beginning

            Fara easily walked the streets of the city, dressed in her fighting clothes, listening to the city bustle around her. They ignored her, supposing her just to be another mercenary or fighter-for-hire, and that was fine with her.

            Eventually, she made it to Falco's tavern, pushing through the doors and looking over the room. Several of the thieves in attendance eyed her, a few exchanging words and smiles. Fox was nowhere in sight.

            Osiris was, though, sitting on a railing on the second story of the tavern. She strode up the stairs, and he took off, leading her through the mostly-empty tables and through a curtain into a back room. There stood a rather large table, currently covered in maps, tomes, and the like, and around it stood Fox's 'team,' most of which she recognized.

            "Milady." Fox said, looking up from the maps as Osiris landed on his shoulder. "I'm glad you could make it."

            "Of course." She replied, walking over to the table and sitting in the one empty chair that had been left for her, looking around at the others here.

            "For those of you that are new joining us, this is Princess Fara Phoenix. She is a duelist, and has agreed to come with us on our journey." Said Fox.

            "A pleasure." Rita stood and held out a hand over the table. "Priestess Rita LaShette."

            "The pleasure is mine." Fara responded, standing again and shaking hands with the Priestess.

            "This is Julian Reeves, my trainee that I have mentioned to you." Fox told her as Julian stood. Fara held out a hand; Julian lightly kissed it instead of shaking it. "And I believe you are familiar with everyone else."

            "Yes indeed." Fara looked at the maps. "Are we planning the route we will take?"

            "Yes. We are also trying to find where we are going." Said Falco a bit sourly. "I am not going to argue with advice given by a dragon, but why is it necessary to make a two week journey to a temple, if the staff does not reside there?"

            "Any number of reasons." Said Slippy, not looking up from the massive tome he was reading. "It might have to do with the fact that the Staff is damaged. It might also have to do with the fact that the temple that does house the Staff has been sealed." He looked at Falco. "It would be quite embarrassing to find the temple where the Staff is housed, and not be able to open it, would it not?"

            "More true then not." The thief grunted in reply. "But I've never met a lock I couldn't pick."

            "This temple would not have a normal sort of lock." Katt replied gently.

            "All right, enough." Fox said quietly. "Let us focus on the task at hand for now. There will be plenty of time for arguments later."

            There were several moments of silence, except for the rustle of paper as maps were spread and rolled, books opened and closed.

            "Could this be it?" Peppy asked, placing a large tabletop book in the center of the table, tapping the map.

            "Is that Draconic?" Rita hazarded, looking at the writing.

            "Yes indeed. Fox, could you translate please?"

            Fox drew the book closer to him, leaning on the table, long hair falling to drape downwards, partly hiding his face. "Possibly. The directions have been written in a form not far from a riddle… but this is the closest possibility that I have seen…" He produced a map from somewhere on his person and unrolled it, placing it over the book. A few recognized it as the map he had had on their last adventure, and knew it was enchanted.

            "Fox, what…" Julian started.

            "Watch." He replied, then spoke quietly in Elven.

            The map currently been shown blurred and faded, then was replaced by what was shown in the book, draconic writing included. It was only then that Fox rolled his map back up and passed the book back to Peppy.

            "I fear that when you are searching for a legend, even the best directions are cryptic." He said with a sigh, rolled map disappearing back from whence it came.

            "I'm sure we've noticed." Katt said, rubbing her temples. "Legends and riddles, warped by time and many different tellings… Fox, what if we are chasing a mere dream, a fairy tale, so to speak? If the staff was destroyed, not damaged…" She trailed off.

            "Then we will find something else." He said heavily, leaning on the table again and staring at the group, hair still falling across his eyes. "This unbalance has been growing. The last few days at my cabin, I have felt it as well." He tossed his head, and his hair moved back to where it should be, leaving his vision unobscured.

            "You can't feel it here?" Falco asked.

            "I can feel little when I'm in a city, you know that. You're the city expert, not I."

            This made Falco laugh.

            "I think what we should concentrate on is how we will get to the Wastes. There is two weeks of travel between the Wastes and here, or more." Said Peppy, opening another map. "And the Black Forest is also between the Wastes and us…"

            "Black Forest?" Slippy repeated.

            "They only call it that because the area has not been fully explored." Said Julian. "The safest course of action there is to never, never leave the path. I have traveled through there a few times. It is a wild area, full of dangerous creatures."

            "Nothing we haven't seen before." Said Bill, shaking his head. "But I fear that this journey will be long and hard."

            "And since we have more people, as well as wagons, we will attract much more attention." Said Julian. "Raiders, thieves…"

            "Thieves will not be too much of a problem." Falco said with a grim smile. "But raiders…"

            "There are many orcish tribes that live in the northern regions." Said Katt. "Which is more a problem for some of us then others…" She winced.

            "Orcs would be a problem for us all, quite possibly. Why would it be more of a problem for you then us?" Falco glanced at her.

            "Simple really." Alan said, dancing in, carrying four trays at once, all loaded down with mugs and food. In spite of the jig he was dancing, he dropped nothing. "Corellon Larethian is god of Elves. I'm sure you know that much Falco."

            "Of course. And Gruumsh is god of Orcs… ah I see."

            "Gruumsh sees too… but only from one eye. And it is Larethian that granted him that pleasure." Alan leapt onto the table, passing out the drinks. Those that were used to him somehow managed to ignore him.

            "Orcs hate Elves." Peppy said flatly, reaching over to one of the platters of food and picking up a piece of fresh bread. "Or at least, that's the normal feelings shared."

            "This could be an interesting journey." Said Alan happily, dropping into his chair, tossing the trays aside and slamming back the contents of his mug in one gulp. "Very interesting indeed…"

            "Agreed." Fox, who had watched this with a look of mild amusement, moved some of the food platters and spread a rather large map out. "I believe I've got the easiest path marked up until the Black Forest…"

            Titus glanced around uneasily, urging his horse to go as fast as possible through the crowded streets. He wasn't used to the idea of traveling through town unescorted, but knew he had to. Fara had been nowhere in the castle, which meant only one thing, she was somewhere in town.

            And he had a bad feeling as to where.

            Eventually he found the building he was looking for, dismounting and tying his horse then entering.

            He didn't like the way the patrons looked at him. The looks were predatory. He was more then sure that almost everyone that looked at him was a thief. He set his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked over to the bar.

            "You looking for McCloud?" The bartender didn't even look at him, drying a glass.

            "I… yes, yes I suppose I am."

            "Could tell by the clothes, pretty boy. He's upstairs, in the back room. Better hope you're expected, with his group."

            Titus stared at him, then left the bar and vaulted up the stairs, striding toward the curtain in the back of the level, shoving aside chairs and tables. Suddenly he was angry, strangely angry. How had this McCloud taken Fara way from him?

            He burst through the curtain, and realized he had severely miscalculated his odds. Ten pairs of eyes immediately swiveled to look at him, one set hanging from the chandelier.

            "Who's dis guy?" Asked the form hanging from the chandelier, pointing with a bottle. Titus took a closer look at him and winced; the man talking was deformed.

            "Titus." Fara stood, leaning on the table. The tie-closed V-neck of her shirt was open, showing a bit more then he was used to. "What are you doing here?"

            "Looking for you." He managed to reply, looking around, flinching when the man hanging from the chandelier dropped to the ground right in front of him, laughing drunkenly when he saw Titus flinch.

            "Look! The prince is scared o' me." Drawled the man, wobbling. "Scared o' me eh? Why eh? Is it the way I look?"

            "How did you know I'm a prince?"

            "It's blatantly obvious." Fox said, standing. "May we help you Titus?"

            Titus stepped forward, looking around at the group. They looked back. He recognized the Guild Thief from the ball, as well as the sorceress that stood next to him. His eyes went around the table, picking out a younger mage, a guard, an older Knight, a fighter he didn't know, and a Priestess. And of course McCloud and Fara. "What are you doing here, Fara?"

            "I told you I am going on a quest. We leave tomorrow." She replied flatly.

            "'We'? You are going to travel with this, this group?" He sputtered.

            "You have a problem with us?" Rumbled the Guild Thief.

            "Yes I do! Milady Fara is royalty! She shouldn't be…"

            "Don't give me that, Titus. I don't care. I want to travel with them."

            "Aye, she should make her own decisions." Alan vaulted over the table and wrapped an arm over her shoulders, leaning his drunken weight into her. Fara had already grown used to him and helped steady him.

            Titus looked at this picture and felt at a loss. Fara, the beautiful if rebellious princess, lending a hand to a drunken, deformed older man.

            "Titus, this is Alan Mangrove. He's a representative of the Blood Bayou. He's going with us." Fara said calmly.

            "Aye!" Alan swung the bottle drunkenly. "You guys are great, you know that?" He said happily to the group around him, then staggered forward a step and pointed the bottle at Titus. "Don't rightly like you though."

            "Leave, Titus." Fox said. "You're out of your element, and you know it. We're leaving tomorrow morning, and Fara is accompanying us. You can't stop it."

            Titus was silent, then said stiffly, "May I have a word with you, 'Sir' McCloud?"

            Silence for a moment, and everyone looked to Fox, even Alan, though he couldn't focus very well. Finally, Fox nodded once and accompanied Titus through the curtain.

            "Where do you get the right?" Demanded Titus once they stood on a balcony.

            "The right for what?" Was the simple reply as Fox leaned on the railing of the balcony, staring out over the city.

            "Throwing a delicate woman such as Fara into such an environment…"

            "If she heard that you'd have her sword blade to your throat." Fox looked at him, and then smiled. "If it helps, I understand your jealousy."

            "So, you admit to it."

            "I am admitting to nothing, Titus. Good day." With that he left the balcony, returning to his group.

            Titus left, returning to the castle, feeling a kind of quiet rage welling in him. Just in the short time he had been courting her, he had fallen completely in love with Fara, eager for an arrangement, and she had left him cold and alone, instead leaving behind her true life as royalty and joining a rag-tag group of adventurers, striking for a some goal he knew was probably ridiculous.

            Later that night, the Priestess arrived and held a brief audience with King Phoenix, explaining the mission. He was not happy that his daughter was going along, but understood in a begrudging matter why, talking to her and saying that once she returned, the arrangement would commence. Fara had said nothing, and had left his presence as soon as possible to begin packing what she was taking.

            "Why didn't you prevent her from going?" Titus demanded later.

            "Because she's a visionary, Titus. Didn't she ever tell you?" Phoenix had asked, looking at him. "She's been having dreams again. She feels she has to go. She feels she can help, and the reason is a worthy one. I can do nothing more. Also, I trust those that she is traveling with."

            'Perhaps. But I don't.' Titus thought darkly, a deep hatred growing in him for Fox McCloud. Worse, the topic of the war had arose during dinner, and Commanding General Pepper had spun tales that seemed more like delusions of grandeur, telling of how McCloud and his friends had come from nowhere with their allies, defeating Andross' Army and quite possibly saving the entire kingdom.

            Titus didn't buy into it all, but listened closer at one small detail. Apparently, McCloud had had two prisoners, two Fists of Hextor, brought back as prisoners to confess for their crimes. They were still held in the dungeon of the castle.

            Titus smiled to himself. Perhaps it was time to explore the castle further.

            Dungeons are never pleasant places.

            Wolf bounced on his toes agilely, going through practice moves, trying everything he could to keep himself in shape. In the cell across from him, Pigma was doing chin-ups on one of the many available bars. They were beaten, captured, jailed, but they hadn't lost yet. Not completely. They still heard Hextor, every now and then, heard their God's brief comments for them just to wait, that they'd get out soon. They tried to believe it, but in the time since their capture, they had begun to loose faith.

            Wolf sighed and stopped, wiping at sweat, knowing that his exercising was making him loose precious weight even faster then he would have already. The guards jeered and made fun as he and his friend practiced, but he said nothing, making dark promises to himself that someday, he would avenge himself.

            He froze, listening as a set of footsteps approached, coming down the stone staircase. Too early to be the patrol, and guards always came in pairs. He exchanged a look with Pigma, who dropped down from the bar, stepping back into the shadows and fading away.

            The young man that appeared was far from a guard, no, Wolf guessed that he was royalty. He was edgy, carrying a torch, jumping a bit at shadows. "Who are you?" Wolf drawled absently, leaning into the front bars of his cell.

            Titus jumped, then set the torch in a sconce. "A friend, possibly."

            "Oh? And what is the 'friend's' name, pray tell?"

            Titus stepped closer to the cell, looking at the Fist of Hextor. Even after several months in a dungeon, the young man was muscular, and wore an eyepatch. He wore little, just black slacks and an open black vest. A necklace caught the firelight, the pendant in the shape of a fist clutching arrows: the symbol of Hextor. "My name is Titus Albrecht."

            "Albrecht? I know that name… yes yes… you are a prince then. In-ter-est-ing." Wolf tilted his head. "And a friend of mine even as he wears a symbol of Pelor on his tunic? Even more interesting. Now, tell me, why have you snuck down here?"

            "I have a proposition for you."

            "Oh? Really? And what is that?"

            "I think we have a common enemy."

            Wolf threw back his head and laughed out loud, the raucous noise echoing off the stone walls. "A common enemy? Is your father attacking the Phoenix's kingdom? Do you pretend to worship Pelor and truly worship Hextor? Name this common enemy, Prince!"

            "Fox McCloud."

            Wolf fell silent, and Titus saw two feelings flash across Wolf's face—fury, and cold interest. "McCloud."

            "Yes."

            Pigma stepped out of hiding. "He does have a point." He said in a cold voice. "I would give a lot to have McCloud's drying blood on my sword."

            "As would I." Wolf eyed Titus. "And why is McCloud your enemy?"

            "Let us say that McCloud and I have a common interest, and he is in my way."

            "And why would you seek us out? Why not simply take it up with him? I have heard that McCloud is a Knight. I'm sure he would speak to you, he seems the sort that would negotiate." Pigma said with a shrug.

            "It is not that simple."

            "Do tell." Wolf drawled.

            Titus sat down in one of the guard's chairs, rubbing his chin. "I was supposed to be arranged with Princess Fara Phoenix."

            "Ah. The firebrand." Wolf said wisely. "And she refused you?"

            "She is in love with McCloud. They leave on a quest tomorrow, along with several others."

            "Do you know the names of these others, pray tell?" Pigma sat down, looking at Titus. This would have bored him by now, but he had been locked up so long he accepted almost anything to break the monotony.

            "Not sure of them all, but I know one's a Guild Thief by the name of Lombardi, and it seems that he and an Elven sorceress named Katt Monroe seem to run most of the city. There's an older Knight by the name of Peppy Hare, and a Guard named Grey. That's not all of them, of course, but…"

            "Birds of a feather do flock together." Wolf barely prevented a snarl. "So. We do have a common enemy. Or several. And how are we supposed to help you, Prince?" Wolf rattled the door to his cell, nearly making Titus jump out of his seat. "We are a bit restricted in our abilities right now, and I highly doubt the guards would give us a day pass."

            "I can get you out."

            "And how do you plan on doing that, without letting King Phoenix know it was you?"

            "I have my ways." Titus stood. "We'll speak again soon." Then he was gone, practically running up the steps.

            Pigma looked at Wolf. "What do you think?"

            "I think he's young, brash, and scared of us." Wolf grinned evilly. "I also think he has enough money to bribe a guard then slip him poison, getting us the keys in the process. Hextor, thank you, your newest is serving you well."

            "What makes you think that coward serves Hextor?" Pigma asked.

            "If he truly served Pelor, he would have gone through proper channels, not come to us to assist him in revenge." Wolf replied, the grin still on his face.

            "So. We wait?"

            "Yes we do. And if he gives us trouble after we're out… we'll kill him."

            "Sounds good to me."

            Fox looked at his caravan. He was in armor, and his unicorn had done away with the disguise. The crowds in the marketplace had parted for him, murmuring. Already he was a legend, and it was clear he was on a mission.

            His group had gone from a small party to a decent caravan. Besides the ten people, they had three decent carts, heavy stock horses pulling them. Slippy, Peppy, and Bill had agreed to drive the carts, their steeds tied to the prospective carts and following obediently. The journey was going to be a long one, and a hard one, and they all knew it.

            "Aren't we looking regal this morning." Falco joined him, now riding a black gelding, strangely setting off Fox's unicorn.

            "I need to." Fox looked out at the gathering crowd, circling his caravan again. "Everything in order, Peppy?"

            "Seems to be."

            Noticing two horses tied to one cart, Fox made his way over, and found Alan kicking back in the back, singing at the top of his lungs and waving the bow to his violin in time. "And a splendidly good morning to you sir!" He cried when he saw Fox.

            'Oy vey.' Fox thought, shaking his head.

            Fara galloped up and stopped her steed. She still had the white charger, refusing to use a more 'feminine' Arabian or Thoroughbred. "Good morning." She smiled at everyone, feeling joyful. They were finally on their way.

            "That's everyone." Said Bill. "Shall we?"

            Fox rode to the front of the caravan, looking at the crowd. Falco had suggested town square as a gathering point, and now it seemed the entire town was watching them with curious eyes. Well, he thought, let's not disappoint them. With a little tug of the reins and a nudge of his heels, his unicorn reared, silver front hooves flashing and glowing in the morning sunlight, then the unicorn leapt forward into action, trotting down the street. Behind him, his group sprung into motion, the carts bringing up the rear. Fara's charger fell in step with his unicorn, and he sensed his group falling in behind him into a formation not unlike a V.

            The crowd parted for them, watching him with awe on their faces. They all knew what he had done, and they knew that they would more likely or not hear about this quest as well. Already the story of Fox McCloud had become legend, and they expected more of the same.

            'Sometimes I wonder why this falls on me.' Fox wondered as they left the perimeter of town, feeling a relief. Something in the city had been making him even more uncomfortable this past night.

            'Perhaps because there is no one better.' Fara's mental voice murmured. 'You are a direct servant of Heironeous, Fox. Did you expect to spend your time as one in quiet solitude?'

            'It's not a bad idea.' But he smiled at her after thinking that. They knew that deep down, he both loved and hated that he was a legend. In many ways he enjoyed his solitary lifestyle, but somewhere deep within him was a hero, and he knew he couldn't deny it. That was why he was a servant of Heironeous.

            Wolf glanced at Pigma, sitting on the edge of the wooden bunk and pressing his fingertips together. Waiting. Biding his time. Sitting not far away was a guard, pleasantly drunk. It wasn't uncommon for the guards to sometimes get a little less then sober on their duty, because they knew that the prisoners couldn't escape. Or so they thought.

            "Cheers, mates." Said the guard cheerfully, toasting them with the bottle and belting the rest of the contents down.

            Mates? Pigma looked at Wolf, who smiled grimly and flashed five fingers in his direction. Pigma nodded just slightly, and the wait continued.

            The guard started to pace the corridor, drunker then he should have been on just one bottle, and the waiting pair knew it. The bottle had an ingredient that wasn't commonly added. Eventually the guard slumped down not far from one of the cells, giggling happily, not noticing as he slipped into unconsciousness, then grew still.

            "Took him long enough." Wolf reached an arm around and drew the corpse around, taking the keys and unlocking the door, then tossing them to Pigma, who wordlessly did the same. "Now how to you propose we escape?"

            They looked at each other, and almost laughed. They weren't exactly inconspicuous.

            "Let's just play it by ear, shall we?"

            "Let's."

            Titus leaned his elbows on the desk in the room he was using. He was leaving the next day, and he felt almost sick with unease. He was doing dealings with Fists of Hextor. Imprisoned Fists of Hextor. That was quite probably high treason, and he had no wish to be escorted to the guillotine. Beheaded without a god as well, he reminded himself; no Priest or Priestess of Pelor would allow him to continue his religion on those offenses, and would excommunicate him.

            The closed shutters of one of his windows silently opened, and he didn't notice when the two dark figures slipped into his room, sharing a glance at the silent, worrying prince.

            "Our savior looks a tad ill." Pigma remarked in a cold voice.

            Titus jumped, turning to stare at the pair. "What… how…"

            Wolf jerked a thumb at his window. "Your drugging the guard worked like a charm. We invited ourselves in. We thought it would be best to have a talk before you left."

            "Quite." Titus agreed. "Since you came to me, what is it you need?"

            "Money." Wolf responded immediately. "We have no weapons, no transport, no clothing…"

            Titus tossed him a small, heavy bag. "Platinum standard. That should be more then enough to get you on your feet and out of town unnoticed."

            Wolf chuckled, pouring some of the money out into his hand. "You do please when you have to, don't you? Of course you do… how are you going to contact us? You are returning to your territories, and my friend and I refuse to step foot there."

            "That has been taken care of." Titus stood and walked over, holding out his palm, showing a pair of rings.

            "Telepathy." Pigma hazarded, picking one up and slipping it on. "A version of the Wolfpack rings I have seen perhaps?"

            "Message carriers, much like a pigeon. If I must talk to you, these rings will relay the message to you, yes, using a form of telepathy."

            "Excellent." Wolf practically purred, slipping his ring on.

            Titus stared at the leading Fist of Hextor. He seemed like a pirate of sorts, especially with all his arms and a good bit of his chest showing. His hair was long, and would have been shaggy if it hadn't hung down in several thin plaits, somehow making him seem even more wild and barbaric. Were all Fists of Hextor like this, he wondered.

            Wolf grinned evilly at him. "We only appear like this after several months of being imprisoned, Titus. Now I have one more question. You have freed us. We are in your debt and are now in your employment. But what exactly is our assignment?"

            "Find out what McCloud is doing and meddle in it any way you can. Don't endanger yourselves, however. I do not want to be linked to this in any way."

            Wolf sniggered to himself very softly. "Indeed. I suppose that is all for now. Pigma?"

            Pigma was out the window as if he was a bird, and Wolf followed. Leaning out the window and looking after them, Titus could not see where they went to.

            "One more thing prince."

            A hand grabbed him and nearly hauled him out the window. Wolf was balanced on the only inches-wide ledge without so much as a care, letting Titus get a good look at the ground below him.

            "Oh, god, oh god… please…" Titus heard himself whimper softly.

            "Do not betray us. Understand?"

            "Yes, yes, of course… please… please…"

            Wolf shoved him back in the room and was gone, disappearing into the shadows.