This story is loosely based upon the adventures played out in a tabletop Dungeons & Dragons campaign that has been running for several years. Please read & review. Thanks.

THE EYE OF SOLZAN

Chapter One

Wind whipped across the barren hillside, with only scrub grass to keep the dusty earth from blowing away. The wind ran along the shallow slope, leaping over large rocks deposited aeons ago by exploding volcanoes and shifting towers of ice. Some of those rocks, however, were worked by men and held more squarish shapes, some etched with ancient symbols and runes that no longer meant anything to anybody. These stones had fallen from the deteriorating walls of a squat tower that stood at the crest of the hill. The wind danced and sang around this crumbling structure before continuing it's race southward towards the mountains.

Inside the tower, a ruined staircase led to what remained of the rooftop. Anyone with sense would stay off of those steps and forget about trying to see the view from the top of the tower, but as the residents of William's Ford often said, Casper Drake and Tyson Ostersaad had little sense. If anyone of the small frontier town ever doubted this, they would have had proof positive if they had been standing in the rubble-strewn interior of the tower at that moment.

"Gods!" Casper cried out as a stone step gave way under his weight and crashed, twenty feet, to the base of the tower. Reaching out, he managed to grab hold of the next step and hang there, his booted feet suspended just out of reach of Tyson who stood on the next step down. The ruined stone clattered and echoed below them. With a bit of effort, Casper clambered his way up onto the next wide step, which seemed solid under his weight.

"I nearly filled my trousers," Tyson laughed. At twelve years of age, jokes made about bowel movements were still the most humourous thing the boys could imagine.

Casper breathed heavily and smiled down at his friend. "You did? What about me? Now come on, we've got a ways to go yet."

"Move back," Tyson ordered, and then leapt out over the empty space left by the fallen step. Grabbing hold of the next one up, Casper helped Tyson up, and they continued skyward.

And so the boys climbed, experiencing a handful of close calls on their way to the top, never a thought to how they were going to get down again. All that mattered was the destination, and to the abyss with what came afterward. Such was their childhood on the frontier.

William's Ford, named for Sir William of Halus, was founded only a few decades prior to the birth of Tyson and Casper. The land, given to Sir William as payment for the campaigns he commanded for the King, was on the southern frontier of the kingdom in a part of the realm still wild with strange and aberrant creatures. However, the lands were rich with wood, ore, and fine earth for growing crops and Sir William brought his best men with him to help clear out an area to build. For twenty years Sir William and the men of William's Ford fought back the wilds, cleared the forests and sowed the land. Invasions by marauding creatures wer nearly unheard of by the time Tyson was born, and William's Ford was prospering. The town became a major exporter to the rest of the realm, people crying out for the area's fine ironwood, furs and plump fruits and vegetables.

The town attracted those looking to start anew or those bored of urban life in the large centers of the north. The frontier promised easy riches to those willing to do hard work, and they came in droves. Haans Ostersaad arrived with his new wife when Sir William put out a call for skilled tradesmen. An experienced carpenter, Haans was never without work in the growing town.

The Ostersaads were a pious people, and it was no surprise when their young son Tyson expressed interest in working with Father Wolfram and the Church of Solzan. The boy had a talent for the healing arts, and was a boon to the small town as Wolfram spent more time at The Running Kobold examining the bottom of an ale mug than he did at the church. Even so, Tyson often ran off into the wilds with his friends to explore the strange ruins that existed there.

The Drakes were Ol'Forders, meaning they had come to the area with the first wave of settlers and Sir William himself. Guilheim Drake was an alchemist of reknowned from the Aliad Peninsula and he opened an apothecary in the new town. His wife, Alhana, died giving birth to Casper and the young lad was brought up by Guilheim in the family shop. By ten years of age, Casper could readily find and name important roots, herbs, berries and leaves and rhyme of their properties and what they could be mixed with to create helpful salves and oils. Despite this, Casper had no interest in alchemy or running the apothecary. Casper's interest lay in the arcane, and it was this passion that drove many of the explorations into the strange ruins to the south of William's Ford.

Tyson hauled himself up on to what remained of the stone battlements of the ancient tower. Sixty feet up from the grassy hillside, the wind played strongly there, unobstructed by grass, rocks or towers. Casper stood on the edge of the tower, his black hair ruffling in the strong breeze. He gazed south into the foothills that rose up beneath the Blue Mountains.

Casper was a slight lad, tall and narrow-shouldered with shaggy hair. His father was the same, with a longer face and gaunt look that made you think twice about crossing him even though he wasn't physically impressive. People say that Casper had his mother's face, and it made him look younger than he was. He had his mother's eyes too, and for some reason that made some of the Ol'Forders whisper quietly amongst themselves.

"Look!" he called out to Tyson over the sound of the wind. He pointed south, gesturing to a broken strip of stone work that wound through the hills. "Look how far it goes!"

The boys had never been further from William's Ford before, and prior to climbing the tower they had found a raised line of broken stone, the remains of an ancient road that came to and end downhill from the tower. From the top, they could see it's cracked line disappear into the southern hills. Casper itched to follow it to it's end.

Tyson almost read the other boy's mind. "We didn't bring enough food," he said while peering over the edge of the tower. "And I haven't seen anything we could hunt since we passed the Tomlins' farm."

Casper considered this. They had spent the night in one of the Tomlins' outbuildings and had travelled almost another full day from there. They would have to sleep in this tower and head back in the morning. Tyson was right though, they hadn't enough food to get any further away from town. Even as it was, his father would tan his hide for being gone so long.

"We'll have to bring even more next time," Casper remarked, hopping down off of the stone ledge. "Maybe bring some silvers to buy food from Mister Tomlins. There's probably at least a dozen ruins in those hills that we can't see."

Tyson nodded. "We should see if Luthor and Darius want to come along, too."

Casper made a non-commital sound as he inspected engravings along the inside of the tower's battlements. He traced a finger along the runes and muttered something quietly to himself that to Tyson sounded like gibberish.

"What did you say?" Tyson asked, pushing wisps of blonde hair out of his eyes. Sometimes, he admitted to himself, Casper could be pretty creepy.

Tyson was heavier set than Casper, barrel-chested and broad shouldered, though not overly muscular. Helping his father with the carpentry business had given Tyson a strong upper body, even for a boy his age. His face was soft and compassionate like his mother's, as well as his bright hazel eyes. Some thought Tyson to be overly emotional, mistaking his passion for the people of his town as some kind of weakness. Tyson believed strongly in the love and power of Solzan.

Casper looked up from the runes. "Hmm? Oh, nothing... just wondering what this says. I wonder if it's a spell."

Tyson laughed. "It probably says 'Francoix was here'!"

Casper smiled and nodded. "Yeah, probably. 'Francoix was here, and let a shit over the edge'!"

"I thought that I smelled something, but I figured it was you!" Tyson quipped, and then prepared for the inevitable punch in the shoulder. It came, and the boys wrestled for a few short moments before collapsing, breathless and laughing.

"Come on, let's get down from here," Tyson finally said.

Heading down was just as risky as climbing up, and they had nearly made it to the bottom when Casper fell.

It was just a little over ten feet, but the stone strewn across the bottom of the tower made things infinitely worse. Casper landed poorly, twisted his knee and cracking himself on the arm quite badly on a fallen stepstone. Casper shouted in pain, and Tyson jumped over the rubble to get to him.

"Oh no," Tyson said after quickly inspecting the injuries. "You broke your arm!"

"And my leg, too, I think," Casper replied through gritted teeth.

"No, that's just sprained," Tyson said while pulling the small pack off of his shoulder. He dropped it amongst the stones and pulled out a squat ceramic pot with a large cork stopper. Opening it, a pungeunt stench eminated from it. He then pulled Casper's trouser leg up past the sprained knee.

"Oh no... blood root?" Casper moaned, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You know what it does," Tyson remarked quickly, dipping three fingers deep into the thick salve.

"It won't fix a broken arm!"

Tyson shook his head. "No, but it will help your knee, now don't move."

Tyson covered Casper's injured knee in the sticky substance and then pulled a strip of cloth from his pack, tying it tightly around the knee and salve, and then pulled the trouser leg down again. "How's that?" he asked, placing a hand on the injury.

"Better," Casper gasped. "But my arm...!"

"Well," Tyson said meekly. "Father Wolfram showed me..."

"That drunk? He showed you a whiskey bottle, most likely!"

"Oh hush!" Tyson snapped, and placed a hand on Casper's sweaty forehead, and a hand on the broken arm. What Tyson did next he could only call 'floating'.

Physically his body stayed put in the tower, but his mind soared high into a world of water and sunshine. Pure warmth flooded through Tyson, and he called the warmth Solzan. Half aware of Casper, Tyson tried to channel the warmth into Casper's arm. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere, and Casper shouted something.

Tyson dropped back into the ruined tower and opened his eyes. Casper was staring at him.

"Gods! You can heal!" Casper hissed, feeling his arm and wincing. "Sort of..."Tyson smiled shyly. "I can do other things, too, but it's really hard. Father Wolfram taught me some stuff, but mostly I read and commune."

They sat silently for a moment, staring at the stones around them.

"I figured you'd laugh all the way back home," Tyson admitted.

Casper shook his head. "No, I won't. I can do things, too."

"Things? You can heal?" Tyson asked, unconvinced.

Casper laughed. "Hah! No, not me. Nothing like that. You wanted to know what I was saying on the roof? I was trying to read the runes."

"How?"

Casper stood, wobbling a bit on the sore knee. "I don't know. It just comes to me, and I know how to use it. I can read Belach's books, for one thing."

Tyson was taken aback, and said nothing for a moment. Belach was the proprietor of The Running Kobold, and a one-time cohort of Sir William. It was no secret that Belach was a wizard in his younger days. Though not actively adventuring any longer, Belach still had many magic artifacts and his spellbooks, though nobody could read the books and learn his secrets.

Nobody but Casper, it seemed.

"Belach knows," Casper added. "He's shown me a bit of what I can do, but he says we're different. He says he has to learn and study, but it comes to me naturally. He says I'm lucky, and that I should be happy about this."

"Aren't you?" Tyson asked.

"I guess I am. Father doesn't know, I'm afraid he'll be angry. He hates Belach, I don't want him to hate me."

The pair were quiet again for a moment before Tyson picked up his pack again.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Casper put some weight on his injured knee. "Yes, I think so."

Tyson turned, took three steps towards the archway that led out to the hill, and disappeared.