Seeing Through The Illusion
Once he was properly 'persuaded' by Boo, Jarra was most accommodating. He explained that no one really knew where Damian was except his most trusted henchman, Dante. The only one who knew where Dante was was his assistant Virgo. And, of course, the only person who knew where Virgo was was Jarra.
He was more than willing to speak.
Apparently, Virgo had just finished a raid and was returning to his camp. Jarra knew exactly where it was and would be more than happy to take them to the camp on two conditions: One, they don't kill him, and two, they keep the Bard's rodent away from him.
It wasn't long before they found themselves marching through the Coldwood, searching for Virgo's camp. Jarra was leading them, his hands tied behind his back by a rope held by Fel. He complained about his situation at first, which was put to a stop when Blade gave him a little 'memento' across his face. The Blow had actually bruised somewhat, leaving a palm shaped black mark on his face. The others were actually surprised that was all the injury he suffered, his jaw should've been dislocated.
After traveling almost halfway into the forest, Jarra spoke. "Okay, we're near the camp. I kept my end of the deal, now you keep yours." He proffered his bound hands. The adventurers looked at each other, Knight nodded, drew his sword and walked toward Jarra. Jarra realized that a sword wasn't a very good tool to cut ropes with, "H-hey, you said you would let me live if I helped you!"
"I did, didn't I," the last thing Jarra saw was Knight's sword arm whipping around, he felt something hit his head and the world turned black.
"There, I let you live," Knight said to the unconscious form of Jarra. He turned to his companions and said, "Alright, we need to plan our assault. Blade, get as close to the camp as you can unseen and gather as much information as you can. Let's tie this idiot up, no sense in repeating history. We'll wait for you here, Blade, when you get back we can start the party."
* * *
Blade returned with her report, it would be a challenging fight. They all agreed it would have to be a straight-up fight. Even Blade, with her nigh- invisible sneaking skills, had almost been discovered three separate times. The problem was that Virgo basically had a small army with him. Even at their best, there was no way short of a miracle they could take on those odds. They needed to create some sort of distraction. Fortunately, there was one in the party that had considerable expertise in this area.
"So we need an illusion," Fade pondered the situation. "What kind of illusion? I suppose another army would be enough to get their attention, but that would be way too much for me, or any other illusionist for that matter."
"I've got an idea," Elfsong interrupted her train of thought. "What about a scout party from the place they just raided? That would only be two or three people. Then you could project the sounds of a larger group."
"That would work, in fact, I think I could refine that idea a little bit. Plus, I could cover the camp in a fog, that would make it harder for them to see us. If you watch me cast the illusion, I could adjust it so that you could see right through it. That should keep them off their guard and give us an edge."
"You haven't done that illusion for awhile, the fog," Blade remarked. "Not since that last shipment of yours, remember that?"
"Yeah, that was when I first met the two of you..."
* * *
"Eight priceless works of art. That's what these are." The man beamed at the mage as if his child had just won first prize at the fair. Somehow, she doubted the man's claims. To her, the eight 'pieces' looked like cylinders of varying sizes and colors. They seemed to be made of several different materials and they all looked rather ordinary. Still, she didn't choose her clients, and she was being well paid, and so long she was, she didn't question her client's tastes in chunks of stone.
Her ferry service between various cities along the Sword Coast was booming, mostly because she hadn't yet lost a cargo to the bandits and monsters that littered the trails. Her talents as an illusionist especially helped in her line of work. More often than not, she could sneak past her would-be raiders, sometimes right under their noses.
She wasn't a complete specialist, though. She knew enough about the other schools of magic that, when push came to shove, she could hold her own. A band of gnolls down south learned that lesson the hard way.
This trip had implications that made her nervous, though. News had reached the city that a few well-armed caravans had been attacked. All but one was able to repel the invaders, but it meant that bandits were starting to get brave. She wondered if it was some sign of things to come.
From her starting point here in Beregost, she was to transport the pieces north to the Friendly Arms Inn. There, her client's buyer will take care of transportation to wherever the final destination was. She pulled a piece of parchment from her wagon, checked to make sure it was the right contract, and handed it to her client.
The man accepted and scanned the document, as he did, the mage studied him. Strange... He should've read the price by now... She admitted 10,000 gold pieces was a steep price, but with eight pieces and the amount of security he demanded for his art, she thought it was a fair price. She wondered what he was really up to. The man nodded and then used the quill she offered to sign the document. She grew even more suspicious, she had expected him to at least whine about something in the contract. While she thought it was fair, it did place some heavy penalties on him should he back out, hire someone to raid the cargo, or otherwise present a detriment to he business. It also held him accountable to any damages incurred by weather, monster, bandit, magic, extra-planar creatures (including powerful monks), and pretty much anything else she could think of while his cargo was under her care.
So, in short, if anything out of the ordinary happened, he was screwed.
Not that she intended to let anything happen that is. She may be exacting in her business propositions, she was still an honest person.
She decided that it may be prudent to ask for half up front, and to her surprise, he paid it, out of his pocket right there. 5,000 gold pieces counted, measured, and weighed. Now she was really suspicious, that may even be too soft a word. But, with her signature right there next to his, she was committed. With no other choice, she climbed up into her wagon, crossed her fingers, and flicked the reigns. She looked back at her cargo and hoped it would be worth it.
The wagon pulled out of the Beregost and turned north to the Friendly Arms Inn where she would hand over her cargo to the person who would take it to her final destination, somewhere in the Frozen North by the sound of it.
The unchanging landscape rolling by put the mage into a trance, like it always did. She thought of the usual things, why she was doing this, about the place she was going. She was starting to nod off; she wasn't particularly worried about falling asleep. She was a fairly light sleeper and the horses would wake her if anything were amiss. Not that she needed the warning.
A band of humans burst out of the nearby brush, screaming at the top of their lungs and trying to confuse her wagon team. Pulling hard on the reigns to try and steady the panicking horses, she used her other hand to search through her pockets for the appropriate spell scroll.
"Give us your cargo, woman, and we may let you live!" One of the bandits shouted at her. They closed in around the wagon, being careful no to get crushed by the falling hooves of the horses. The mage's fingers found one particular scroll whose seal featured a billowing cloud with a person trapped inside. Finally, she thought.
She pulled the scroll free of her robes and popped the seal, she may not actually be able to remember the details of the spell, but she knew the rest of it well enough, after all, it was one of her favorites, a wall of fog. With that, she should be able to sneak away safely.
She gave the bandits a knowing smile as she cast, she looked straight at the man who had shouted at her a moment ago, "Goodbye."
An orb of light appeared before the mage and began to spill out fog. In a matter of moments, the area was covered in a magical fog that only her gaze could pierce. She guided her wagon carefully through the ground-cloud, trying to keep the bandits from seeing her escape.
She made it safely out of the fog and looked back to see her handiwork. All of the bandits were still groping about in the fog, trying to find her.
At least, all but one.
One bandit had managed to grab hold of her wagon and let her guide him out. Once free of the cloud, he let go and called to his mates, "This way fella's, follow my voice!" The bandits began to make their way out of the masking fog. She decided that now was a good time to make a speedy exit. The wagon soon stopped with a jolt, the bandit who had hitched a ride with her had stuck a thick pole in the spokes of her wheels, effectively halting her escape.
The bandits surrounded the wagon once more, and the mage freed her staff and prepared to crack skulls. The odds didn't look good to her, but she had little choice. One of the bandits charged forward, sword rising to strike her. Her staff came down and knocked him back with a sound thump on the head. Another bandit joined the fray, only to receive the same treatment. More and more surged forward to have their turn at her. The staff became a blur in her hands as the forms flowed from her mind to her body. Running Down the Mountain became Sweeping Maiden, which flowed into Breaking Reeds. Despite her mastery of her weapon, though, the odds soon swung the fight against her, there were simply too many. They managed to get a couple lucky strikes in, blood flowed freely from a cut across her stomach and a dark bruise marred her cheek. She knew that she would receive worse soon. She couldn't keep this up forever.
One bandit's blade found it's way through her defenses and was about to cleave her skull in two when a fast-moving blur tackled him hard. The bandit lay unconscious on the ground; unfortunately, his friends were still standing and trying to kill her. With all her attention focused on keeping steel off-target, she didn't quite notice the man in a blue cloak sneak up behind another of the bandits and club him over the head with the pommel of his sword.
One of the bandit's friends did, however, and broke off to face this new threat. It was then that the mage noticed the newcomers. The fighter faced off and the rogue sneaking in. She had help, and she dove into her fight with renewed vigor.
The thief snuck along the side of the wagon while everyone was distracted. Only two bandits remained at the wagon. One of them was about to get to know her sword, intimately. She stole forward as quietly as she could and readied to make her attack.
The only downside to her plan was that, from his vantage point in front of the fighter, the bandit could see her clearly. The time to strike was now. He shouted, "Look out!" to his companion and charged at the man in blue, raising his sword to thrust at his head.
The bandit about to receive a blade in his back heard his companion's warning, and almost moved too late. The thief's blade didn't enter his back as she had planned, but did open a large gash. The bandit screamed in pain and shifted his focus from the mage to this new threat.
The mage was doing a little better now, without an entire band trying to kill her, she could deal with her opponent more effectively. She drove him back far enough that she was able to jump down off the wagon and face him on equal footing. Attacks came swiftly from both, but she knew that she had the upper hand.
His blade came down and behind him to block yet another attack from the bandit. His opponent was skilled in the use of his weapon but the attacks were still rudimentary, relying more on power than finesse. And ferocity. The attacks came quickly but soon, the bandit made his mistake, a fierce thrust that should have been a feint. The fighter seized the opportunity, spinning right by the attack; he shoved the blade of his sword under his arm, through his cloak, and into the bandit. This fight was over.
The thief wasn't doing as well, her skills leaned more toward stealth then straight-up combat. It helped that her opponent was wounded and tiring rapidly, but she knew that if she let on that she was losing, it would be over. Luckily, she had one more trick up her sleeve, literally.
A small paper ball rolled into her hand and she threw it in her opponent's face. It burst open and covered his face with a powder that burned his eyes and skin. It wasn't long until the pain became so great he blacked out.
"And stay down," she said.
The mage had the easiest time of it. With only one opponent to deal with now, she could free a hand to prepare a spell. And spell she did, for when she thrust her empty hand at her opponent, bright colors sprayed and stunned him long enough to give the man one solid blow to the head. The man collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
She looked around to find her saviors and found the fighter in blue kneeling over one of the bandits, doing something to him while the thief stood over and watched. As she approached, she saw that he was treating the bandit's wound, speaking to him.
"Your friends will wake up soon. When they do, make sure they take you to the nearest town for better treatment. You've lost a lot of blood, so stay still until they move you." The fighter reached into a pouch and produced a small vile, "Here, if you find yourself growing tired or numb, drink this. It will help, but it isn't potent enough to heal your wounds. Find a skilled Healer as soon as you can."
With that, he stood up and looked at the mage. He regarded her with his trained eye and, apparently, decided something.
"These men wouldn't have attack one mage unless you were carrying something valuable."
She thought about her cargo, those cylinders, and replied, "Either they were mistaken, or there is more to my cargo then I was led to believe."
The thief, who had snuck away and was now examining the cylinders, called to them, "I'd go with more to this stuff that you thought."
The mage was surprised by the thief's skills but none the less ran over to her wagon shouting, "Get down from there! I don't know who you two are, for all I know you could just be more bandits after my cargo!" When she looked to check on her cargo, though, she was amazed by what she saw. The cylinders were actually containers, and inside each lay powerful artifacts from an age long past. She had read of these and a lump of fear rose in her throat. "These are the last remaining pieces of a culture that died out millennia ago! What are they doing here?"
The fighter stepped forward to examine the items; "Could it be that they wanted you to transfer them to a place better suited for research?"
"I suppose that would explain the lengths my client took to ensure their safety."
"We'd better hurry, the longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be attacked again." The three got the wagon moving on it's way to the Friendly Arms Inn.
* * *
"I decided to trust them after that, and Knight recruited me to help with one of his crazy quests he's always on."
Fel stood from where she had laid back on a thick patch of grass, "A wonderful tale, can we get on with this?"
Fade turned to the enemy camp, and began to walk. As she walked, with her new friends following behind, she searched through her pockets for a familiar scroll, with a familiar seal, that would cast a familiar spell.
--I'm bored so I'm gonna ramble on about some of my influences for this story. Well, just in general really. This started off as some short stories I wrote for my friends back in high school since I didn't wanna do the mainstream "write a stupid paragraph and slap your signature beneath it" deal that everybody else was doing. I wanted to do something memorable. They made me sign the yearbooks themselves anyways but sometime later I decided to continue on where the short stories left off. As far as other influences, I watch a lot of movies, mostly sci-fi. I listen to a lot of alternative rock (WOO! WEEZER!) and stuff like that. You guys should go through the stories and try and find all the little references and stuff I toss in there. Thanks to all my reviewers, it's nice to be appreciated by complete strangers. Special thanks to the Elven Romantic who gave me the most flattering compliment a writer can get in comparing me to J.K. Rowling (Even though I'm not a big fan of Harry Potter) and J.R.R. Tolkien (whom I'm a big fan of. Frodo lives!) Later days.
Once he was properly 'persuaded' by Boo, Jarra was most accommodating. He explained that no one really knew where Damian was except his most trusted henchman, Dante. The only one who knew where Dante was was his assistant Virgo. And, of course, the only person who knew where Virgo was was Jarra.
He was more than willing to speak.
Apparently, Virgo had just finished a raid and was returning to his camp. Jarra knew exactly where it was and would be more than happy to take them to the camp on two conditions: One, they don't kill him, and two, they keep the Bard's rodent away from him.
It wasn't long before they found themselves marching through the Coldwood, searching for Virgo's camp. Jarra was leading them, his hands tied behind his back by a rope held by Fel. He complained about his situation at first, which was put to a stop when Blade gave him a little 'memento' across his face. The Blow had actually bruised somewhat, leaving a palm shaped black mark on his face. The others were actually surprised that was all the injury he suffered, his jaw should've been dislocated.
After traveling almost halfway into the forest, Jarra spoke. "Okay, we're near the camp. I kept my end of the deal, now you keep yours." He proffered his bound hands. The adventurers looked at each other, Knight nodded, drew his sword and walked toward Jarra. Jarra realized that a sword wasn't a very good tool to cut ropes with, "H-hey, you said you would let me live if I helped you!"
"I did, didn't I," the last thing Jarra saw was Knight's sword arm whipping around, he felt something hit his head and the world turned black.
"There, I let you live," Knight said to the unconscious form of Jarra. He turned to his companions and said, "Alright, we need to plan our assault. Blade, get as close to the camp as you can unseen and gather as much information as you can. Let's tie this idiot up, no sense in repeating history. We'll wait for you here, Blade, when you get back we can start the party."
* * *
Blade returned with her report, it would be a challenging fight. They all agreed it would have to be a straight-up fight. Even Blade, with her nigh- invisible sneaking skills, had almost been discovered three separate times. The problem was that Virgo basically had a small army with him. Even at their best, there was no way short of a miracle they could take on those odds. They needed to create some sort of distraction. Fortunately, there was one in the party that had considerable expertise in this area.
"So we need an illusion," Fade pondered the situation. "What kind of illusion? I suppose another army would be enough to get their attention, but that would be way too much for me, or any other illusionist for that matter."
"I've got an idea," Elfsong interrupted her train of thought. "What about a scout party from the place they just raided? That would only be two or three people. Then you could project the sounds of a larger group."
"That would work, in fact, I think I could refine that idea a little bit. Plus, I could cover the camp in a fog, that would make it harder for them to see us. If you watch me cast the illusion, I could adjust it so that you could see right through it. That should keep them off their guard and give us an edge."
"You haven't done that illusion for awhile, the fog," Blade remarked. "Not since that last shipment of yours, remember that?"
"Yeah, that was when I first met the two of you..."
* * *
"Eight priceless works of art. That's what these are." The man beamed at the mage as if his child had just won first prize at the fair. Somehow, she doubted the man's claims. To her, the eight 'pieces' looked like cylinders of varying sizes and colors. They seemed to be made of several different materials and they all looked rather ordinary. Still, she didn't choose her clients, and she was being well paid, and so long she was, she didn't question her client's tastes in chunks of stone.
Her ferry service between various cities along the Sword Coast was booming, mostly because she hadn't yet lost a cargo to the bandits and monsters that littered the trails. Her talents as an illusionist especially helped in her line of work. More often than not, she could sneak past her would-be raiders, sometimes right under their noses.
She wasn't a complete specialist, though. She knew enough about the other schools of magic that, when push came to shove, she could hold her own. A band of gnolls down south learned that lesson the hard way.
This trip had implications that made her nervous, though. News had reached the city that a few well-armed caravans had been attacked. All but one was able to repel the invaders, but it meant that bandits were starting to get brave. She wondered if it was some sign of things to come.
From her starting point here in Beregost, she was to transport the pieces north to the Friendly Arms Inn. There, her client's buyer will take care of transportation to wherever the final destination was. She pulled a piece of parchment from her wagon, checked to make sure it was the right contract, and handed it to her client.
The man accepted and scanned the document, as he did, the mage studied him. Strange... He should've read the price by now... She admitted 10,000 gold pieces was a steep price, but with eight pieces and the amount of security he demanded for his art, she thought it was a fair price. She wondered what he was really up to. The man nodded and then used the quill she offered to sign the document. She grew even more suspicious, she had expected him to at least whine about something in the contract. While she thought it was fair, it did place some heavy penalties on him should he back out, hire someone to raid the cargo, or otherwise present a detriment to he business. It also held him accountable to any damages incurred by weather, monster, bandit, magic, extra-planar creatures (including powerful monks), and pretty much anything else she could think of while his cargo was under her care.
So, in short, if anything out of the ordinary happened, he was screwed.
Not that she intended to let anything happen that is. She may be exacting in her business propositions, she was still an honest person.
She decided that it may be prudent to ask for half up front, and to her surprise, he paid it, out of his pocket right there. 5,000 gold pieces counted, measured, and weighed. Now she was really suspicious, that may even be too soft a word. But, with her signature right there next to his, she was committed. With no other choice, she climbed up into her wagon, crossed her fingers, and flicked the reigns. She looked back at her cargo and hoped it would be worth it.
The wagon pulled out of the Beregost and turned north to the Friendly Arms Inn where she would hand over her cargo to the person who would take it to her final destination, somewhere in the Frozen North by the sound of it.
The unchanging landscape rolling by put the mage into a trance, like it always did. She thought of the usual things, why she was doing this, about the place she was going. She was starting to nod off; she wasn't particularly worried about falling asleep. She was a fairly light sleeper and the horses would wake her if anything were amiss. Not that she needed the warning.
A band of humans burst out of the nearby brush, screaming at the top of their lungs and trying to confuse her wagon team. Pulling hard on the reigns to try and steady the panicking horses, she used her other hand to search through her pockets for the appropriate spell scroll.
"Give us your cargo, woman, and we may let you live!" One of the bandits shouted at her. They closed in around the wagon, being careful no to get crushed by the falling hooves of the horses. The mage's fingers found one particular scroll whose seal featured a billowing cloud with a person trapped inside. Finally, she thought.
She pulled the scroll free of her robes and popped the seal, she may not actually be able to remember the details of the spell, but she knew the rest of it well enough, after all, it was one of her favorites, a wall of fog. With that, she should be able to sneak away safely.
She gave the bandits a knowing smile as she cast, she looked straight at the man who had shouted at her a moment ago, "Goodbye."
An orb of light appeared before the mage and began to spill out fog. In a matter of moments, the area was covered in a magical fog that only her gaze could pierce. She guided her wagon carefully through the ground-cloud, trying to keep the bandits from seeing her escape.
She made it safely out of the fog and looked back to see her handiwork. All of the bandits were still groping about in the fog, trying to find her.
At least, all but one.
One bandit had managed to grab hold of her wagon and let her guide him out. Once free of the cloud, he let go and called to his mates, "This way fella's, follow my voice!" The bandits began to make their way out of the masking fog. She decided that now was a good time to make a speedy exit. The wagon soon stopped with a jolt, the bandit who had hitched a ride with her had stuck a thick pole in the spokes of her wheels, effectively halting her escape.
The bandits surrounded the wagon once more, and the mage freed her staff and prepared to crack skulls. The odds didn't look good to her, but she had little choice. One of the bandits charged forward, sword rising to strike her. Her staff came down and knocked him back with a sound thump on the head. Another bandit joined the fray, only to receive the same treatment. More and more surged forward to have their turn at her. The staff became a blur in her hands as the forms flowed from her mind to her body. Running Down the Mountain became Sweeping Maiden, which flowed into Breaking Reeds. Despite her mastery of her weapon, though, the odds soon swung the fight against her, there were simply too many. They managed to get a couple lucky strikes in, blood flowed freely from a cut across her stomach and a dark bruise marred her cheek. She knew that she would receive worse soon. She couldn't keep this up forever.
One bandit's blade found it's way through her defenses and was about to cleave her skull in two when a fast-moving blur tackled him hard. The bandit lay unconscious on the ground; unfortunately, his friends were still standing and trying to kill her. With all her attention focused on keeping steel off-target, she didn't quite notice the man in a blue cloak sneak up behind another of the bandits and club him over the head with the pommel of his sword.
One of the bandit's friends did, however, and broke off to face this new threat. It was then that the mage noticed the newcomers. The fighter faced off and the rogue sneaking in. She had help, and she dove into her fight with renewed vigor.
The thief snuck along the side of the wagon while everyone was distracted. Only two bandits remained at the wagon. One of them was about to get to know her sword, intimately. She stole forward as quietly as she could and readied to make her attack.
The only downside to her plan was that, from his vantage point in front of the fighter, the bandit could see her clearly. The time to strike was now. He shouted, "Look out!" to his companion and charged at the man in blue, raising his sword to thrust at his head.
The bandit about to receive a blade in his back heard his companion's warning, and almost moved too late. The thief's blade didn't enter his back as she had planned, but did open a large gash. The bandit screamed in pain and shifted his focus from the mage to this new threat.
The mage was doing a little better now, without an entire band trying to kill her, she could deal with her opponent more effectively. She drove him back far enough that she was able to jump down off the wagon and face him on equal footing. Attacks came swiftly from both, but she knew that she had the upper hand.
His blade came down and behind him to block yet another attack from the bandit. His opponent was skilled in the use of his weapon but the attacks were still rudimentary, relying more on power than finesse. And ferocity. The attacks came quickly but soon, the bandit made his mistake, a fierce thrust that should have been a feint. The fighter seized the opportunity, spinning right by the attack; he shoved the blade of his sword under his arm, through his cloak, and into the bandit. This fight was over.
The thief wasn't doing as well, her skills leaned more toward stealth then straight-up combat. It helped that her opponent was wounded and tiring rapidly, but she knew that if she let on that she was losing, it would be over. Luckily, she had one more trick up her sleeve, literally.
A small paper ball rolled into her hand and she threw it in her opponent's face. It burst open and covered his face with a powder that burned his eyes and skin. It wasn't long until the pain became so great he blacked out.
"And stay down," she said.
The mage had the easiest time of it. With only one opponent to deal with now, she could free a hand to prepare a spell. And spell she did, for when she thrust her empty hand at her opponent, bright colors sprayed and stunned him long enough to give the man one solid blow to the head. The man collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
She looked around to find her saviors and found the fighter in blue kneeling over one of the bandits, doing something to him while the thief stood over and watched. As she approached, she saw that he was treating the bandit's wound, speaking to him.
"Your friends will wake up soon. When they do, make sure they take you to the nearest town for better treatment. You've lost a lot of blood, so stay still until they move you." The fighter reached into a pouch and produced a small vile, "Here, if you find yourself growing tired or numb, drink this. It will help, but it isn't potent enough to heal your wounds. Find a skilled Healer as soon as you can."
With that, he stood up and looked at the mage. He regarded her with his trained eye and, apparently, decided something.
"These men wouldn't have attack one mage unless you were carrying something valuable."
She thought about her cargo, those cylinders, and replied, "Either they were mistaken, or there is more to my cargo then I was led to believe."
The thief, who had snuck away and was now examining the cylinders, called to them, "I'd go with more to this stuff that you thought."
The mage was surprised by the thief's skills but none the less ran over to her wagon shouting, "Get down from there! I don't know who you two are, for all I know you could just be more bandits after my cargo!" When she looked to check on her cargo, though, she was amazed by what she saw. The cylinders were actually containers, and inside each lay powerful artifacts from an age long past. She had read of these and a lump of fear rose in her throat. "These are the last remaining pieces of a culture that died out millennia ago! What are they doing here?"
The fighter stepped forward to examine the items; "Could it be that they wanted you to transfer them to a place better suited for research?"
"I suppose that would explain the lengths my client took to ensure their safety."
"We'd better hurry, the longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be attacked again." The three got the wagon moving on it's way to the Friendly Arms Inn.
* * *
"I decided to trust them after that, and Knight recruited me to help with one of his crazy quests he's always on."
Fel stood from where she had laid back on a thick patch of grass, "A wonderful tale, can we get on with this?"
Fade turned to the enemy camp, and began to walk. As she walked, with her new friends following behind, she searched through her pockets for a familiar scroll, with a familiar seal, that would cast a familiar spell.
--I'm bored so I'm gonna ramble on about some of my influences for this story. Well, just in general really. This started off as some short stories I wrote for my friends back in high school since I didn't wanna do the mainstream "write a stupid paragraph and slap your signature beneath it" deal that everybody else was doing. I wanted to do something memorable. They made me sign the yearbooks themselves anyways but sometime later I decided to continue on where the short stories left off. As far as other influences, I watch a lot of movies, mostly sci-fi. I listen to a lot of alternative rock (WOO! WEEZER!) and stuff like that. You guys should go through the stories and try and find all the little references and stuff I toss in there. Thanks to all my reviewers, it's nice to be appreciated by complete strangers. Special thanks to the Elven Romantic who gave me the most flattering compliment a writer can get in comparing me to J.K. Rowling (Even though I'm not a big fan of Harry Potter) and J.R.R. Tolkien (whom I'm a big fan of. Frodo lives!) Later days.