Naramira gazed out over the sparkling blue waters of the Ocean of Tears.
The Maiden's Voyage was sailing swiftly towards the continent of Faydwer.
Blue skies and a steady wind had made the journey a pleasant experience
from the moment it had left the Freeport docks.
To the young enchantress the two-day trip was a journey of epic proportions. She had never before left her hometown, but ever since she had met a young wood-elf ranger, she had been longing to see more of the world. So she had saved up some money and secured passage on the boat that would take her across the ocean to a land she had heard many strange and wonderful tales about.
"Captain says it shouldn't be too long now. We should be seeing the Butcherblock Mountains on the horizon any time now," a voice said behind her.
Naramira turned to look at the wood-elf. Her untamed blonde hair had leaves in it, although she'd been at sea for two days. She was dressed in sturdy brown leather and a wooden club hung at her belt. A faint smell of apples clung about her.
"Can you show me the way to Kaladim please, Breya?" Naramira asked. "I'm sure I'll get lost if I try to find it on my own."
"Of course," the wood-elf replied. "It's on my way, in any case."
"Where are you headed?"
"I'm meeting a company of adventurers at Castle Crushbone. They promised good loot," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "Ah, there we go. Butcherblock Mountains. Welcome to Faydwer."
As the green mountains drew nearer, Naramira became ever more excited, and yet, she was a little troubled. Faydwer was a strange country. The home of dwarves, elves and gnomes, the young human did not know what to expect. Would she be welcome here? What dangers lay waiting for her to walk into unawares? She straightened her shoulders and reminded herself firmly that she was an enchantress of the second spell-circle. Whatever awaited her, at least she was not completely defenceless.
Still, it was with mixed feelings that she disembarked not long after. The boat docked at one of two piers closed off from the surrounding forest by a high wall and watched over by two dwarven guards. A few shopkeepers set up trade within the protected area. Although they cried out their wares at the top of their voices, Naramira felt an eerie silence spilling over the wall from the forest.
"Keep close to me," Breya said as she and Naramira walked towards the gate. "The docks are safe and the road too, for the most part. But once you're inside the forest..." She loosened her club suggestively. Naramira gulped, her mind racing with imagined horrors waiting to jump at her and pull her off the road.
"I'm going to cast a spell on you, don't be alarmed. It's called the Spirit of Wolf and enhances your running speed. Very good for travelling." A blue light sparkled from the elf's hands and Naramira looked down to see her feet momentarily enveloped in a blue glow.
"Now run with me, and remember to stay on the path!" They set off as fast as the wind, over hills and between mountains, the road winding between a green blur of trees. Naramira laughed in exhilaration. She didn't even think of possible dangers lurking off the road. A few minutes later the wood-elf stopped.
"That was wonderful!" Naramira exclaimed. She wasn't even out of breath. "Why have we stopped?"
Breya grinned and pointed. Naramira's gaze followed her finger and she gaped in astonishment. An enormous dwarven warrior was carved into the mountainside. It loomed over the gates of the dwarven city, deterring all those who were not welcome.
"Behold the Gatekeeper of Kaladim," Breya said, a slight note of awe in her voice. "Now I have to leave you here. I'm supposed to be at Crushbone in two days' time, and it's still a long way. It was nice to meet you, Naramira."
"Good luck, and thank you." Naramira waved goodbye as the young wood-elf ran off into the distance. Then she slowly, but purposefully, walked towards the gates of Kaladim.
******
To her great relief, Naramira passed unchallenged through the gates and past the guards, who only nodded in greeting as she entered the dwarven city. A narrow sloping tunnel opened up into a grand entranceway where more guards were milling about. Some of them looked surprised to see her, but none of them were alarmed or outraged to find a human girl walking through their halls.
The entranceway divided into two narrow tunnels. Naramira chose the left tunnel and followed it deeper into the bowels of the earth. So far she did not like Kaladim very much. She could almost feel the weight of the mountain bearing down on her. Her chest felt constricted and she had trouble breathing. The tunnel was dark and when the roof became so low she had to stoop down to continue, Naramira seriously considered turning back.
Then suddenly the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern. She had finally reached the town and it was bustling with activity. There were dwarves everywhere, going about their tasks industriously. Everyone she passed greeted her friendly and the air was abuzz with their conversation.
The first thing she did was find a smithy where she bought a little lantern. The city was poorly lit, which didn't seem to bother anyone else. She assumed dwarven eyesight was better than human vision. Or maybe they were just used to the darkness.
She spent the rest of the day exploring the city and getting hopelessly lost in the twisting mazes and tunnels that formed its streets. She visited the mines where dwarves were digging for precious stones and the ore their smiths would make mithril from. She saw the guards on parade at the king's palace and walked through the hushed corridors of the Temple of Brell.
She paid for a room in an inn above a tavern and spent that night drifting in and out of sleep. Apparently drunken dwarves loved singing, and at the top of their voices too. She awoke the next morning bleary-eyed and a little irritable, but that wasn't going to stop her from exploring the surrounding countryside.
"Leavin' our city so soon, are ye missy?" Naramira was startled to hear the guard ask as she walked through the gate.
She shook her head and wondered if she was supposed to bend down to be at eye level with the dwarf. She wisely decided against it. "No sir, I'll be back this evening. Just thought I'd like to see a little bit more of the Butcherblock Mountains."
"Ye be careful now, little lady. The mountains are a pretty sight to see, that be true, but keep to the road and stay near the guard outposts. There be all sorts of dangerous creatures in these here forests."
"I'll be careful," Naramira promised. She set off along the road, trying not to smile at being called a 'little lady' by someone she towered head and shoulders over.
She was careful. The young enchantress had an active imagination and didn't want to risk the dangers everyone kept warning her about. She spent the day wandering about the open countryside on the edge of the forest, always keeping within sight of the Gatekeeper.
She saw all manner of strange creatures and was once or twice attacked by a foolish young bird-like creature the guards later told her was called a krag. It reminded her a little of Master Jusathorn, her guildmaster, so she tried not to harm it too much.
Another creature, a big striped lizard Naramira thought may be a miniature dragon, also attacked her. It was unexpectedly vicious and at one stage even spat a viscous liquid into Naramira's eyes that temporarily blinded her. She kept her wits about her though and luckily had a magical shield up at the time. Although the lizard put up quite a fight, the young enchantress, armed with her trusty dagger and a stronger suffocation spell at her command, was more than a match for it. When the lizard lay dead at her feet, Naramira sliced open its bloated belly to find a four-inch egg inside. She realised she must have inadvertently stumbled upon its nest, and the mother was just trying to protect her young. She was devastated.
"Ah, young missy, there's nothin' to worry about," the friendly guard said later that night when they were both sitting in the tavern. 'The basilisk be a fierce creature. It will attack anyone on sight, so ye need not be worried ye had aggravated it. Their eggs be rare and much prized by master bakers. Ye should try to sell it in the marketplace."
"Thank you for the advice, Guard Haendar," she smiled, feeling somewhat better about the incident. "Is there anything else I should be wary of?"
"The forest is the domain of the goblins. Nasty creatures they be," he replied, grimacing. "They do unspeakable things to their prisoners, and kill for the fun of it. Do not wander of the road, if ye have any sense." He ordered another round of ale and then said in a conspiratorial voice: "Of course, there be all sorts of nasties in the open countryside too. Ye've met a few of them today, but beware the skunks of this region."
Naramira's eyes widened in fright. She'd seen a skunk that morning, but luckily had given it a wide berth. "Are they very dangerous?"
"Well... not dangerous as such." He cleared his throat and looked slightly embarrassed. "When I was a young lad and first joined the Stormguard, the other guards told me it be an unspoken rule that Captain Ogrebane only accepted newcomers into the force if they brought him the tail of a skunk within a week. So I set out one sunny morn to go and catch me a skunk, and catch him I did. He sprayed a stench on me so foul that Captain Ogrebane took one sniff of me and sent me to guard the furthest outpost, right out on the edge of the Faydark, for two weeks. My unfortunate roommate used to joke that the smell of me frightened the goblins right over the ocean to Sister Isle, where some of 'em would to this day rather face the Cyclops than come within a whiff of me."
Naramira laughed. As the evening wore on the tavern's patrons became more uproarious. Naramira fled to her room not long after the singing started and mercifully managed to have a restful sleep that night.
******
A few weeks passed as Naramira spent the days hunting small game near the city gates. She was becoming more proficient with her new spells. Soon her curiosity got the better of her and she began to venture further and further into the forest, away from the relative safety of the road.
One day she stumbled upon a ring of standing stones. She was in awe. 'This place feels almost sacred,' she thought to herself. 'As if ancient peoples once came here to worship.' She walked around the circle, carefully touching the engravings on the stone and trying to figure out their meaning. 'A place of powerful magic.'
Suddenly she was struck by a magical force that nearly knocked her off her feet. She spun around to see a goblin shaman walking towards her. Pointed teeth glittered from his cruel smile and a necklace made of bones jingled as he came ever closer. His pale green skin glowed in the light of the magic radiating from his hands.
Naramira knew she was no match for her opponent. She turned and ran. 'Which way's the road?' She couldn't remember! She ran wildly through the trees, only to feel her feet sink into the ground as she was rooted to the spot a few minutes later. The hem of her purple robe was covered in mud as the goblin's magic turned the ground into a sticky mire.
She turned to confront her attacker. A Suffocating Sphere hit the goblin and he started to choke, his eyes bulging in surprise. But a goblin shaman was not a fire beetle, nor a basilisk, and he quickly overcame her spell. He fired a disease-based attack at the young enchantress. She started shivering with fever as she felt her life-force slowly draining out of her.
Another Suffocating Sphere hit the goblin and his attack ceased for a moment as he fell to the ground, clawing at his throat for air. Naramira pulled her feet free and ran on, hoping in vain to come upon the road and wishing she'd never set foot off it in the first place.
Frost rifts struck her from behind as the goblin recovered and gave chase. She ran on in a fevered state, her whole body numb with cold. Her only thought was to find the road. She couldn't make her mind focus on more than that.
She'd almost given up hope when she saw flickering torchlight in the distance. Sobbing, she stumbled forward as fast as her injuries allowed. Another icy chill slammed her from behind and she fell down, too tired to get up again. The goblin stood over her, leering, and she closed her eyes while waiting for the killing blow.
"For the glory of Kaladim!" she heard a rough voice call, followed by a shrill gurgling shriek and a hand helping her to her feet. A dwarven guard had seen her plight and came to her rescue just in time. He wordlessly helped her back to the guardhouse, where she spent the night recovering from the attack. She thanked him sincerely the next morning before making her way back to Kaladim, careful to keep to the road.
******
"I warned ye not to go into the forest, young missy," Guard Haendar reprimanded her.
"And I should have listened," Naramira agreed. "But I don't feel safe here anymore and it's time for me to move on." She hefted her satchel onto her back and wrapped her traveller's cloak about her.
"Well, good luck be to ye. Headin' back home, are ye?"
"No. I've always wanted to see Kelethin, which is where I'm going now. I'll keep to the road," she promised quickly as the dwarf's frown deepened. "I'll be careful. Farewell."
"Farewell, little lady. And may Brell be with ye," he called after her.
Naramira looked at the surrounding forest and a shiver ran through her. She cast Invisibility on herself and followed the road east.
_________________________________________________ Author's Note: Second spell-circle – levels 4-7.
To the young enchantress the two-day trip was a journey of epic proportions. She had never before left her hometown, but ever since she had met a young wood-elf ranger, she had been longing to see more of the world. So she had saved up some money and secured passage on the boat that would take her across the ocean to a land she had heard many strange and wonderful tales about.
"Captain says it shouldn't be too long now. We should be seeing the Butcherblock Mountains on the horizon any time now," a voice said behind her.
Naramira turned to look at the wood-elf. Her untamed blonde hair had leaves in it, although she'd been at sea for two days. She was dressed in sturdy brown leather and a wooden club hung at her belt. A faint smell of apples clung about her.
"Can you show me the way to Kaladim please, Breya?" Naramira asked. "I'm sure I'll get lost if I try to find it on my own."
"Of course," the wood-elf replied. "It's on my way, in any case."
"Where are you headed?"
"I'm meeting a company of adventurers at Castle Crushbone. They promised good loot," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "Ah, there we go. Butcherblock Mountains. Welcome to Faydwer."
As the green mountains drew nearer, Naramira became ever more excited, and yet, she was a little troubled. Faydwer was a strange country. The home of dwarves, elves and gnomes, the young human did not know what to expect. Would she be welcome here? What dangers lay waiting for her to walk into unawares? She straightened her shoulders and reminded herself firmly that she was an enchantress of the second spell-circle. Whatever awaited her, at least she was not completely defenceless.
Still, it was with mixed feelings that she disembarked not long after. The boat docked at one of two piers closed off from the surrounding forest by a high wall and watched over by two dwarven guards. A few shopkeepers set up trade within the protected area. Although they cried out their wares at the top of their voices, Naramira felt an eerie silence spilling over the wall from the forest.
"Keep close to me," Breya said as she and Naramira walked towards the gate. "The docks are safe and the road too, for the most part. But once you're inside the forest..." She loosened her club suggestively. Naramira gulped, her mind racing with imagined horrors waiting to jump at her and pull her off the road.
"I'm going to cast a spell on you, don't be alarmed. It's called the Spirit of Wolf and enhances your running speed. Very good for travelling." A blue light sparkled from the elf's hands and Naramira looked down to see her feet momentarily enveloped in a blue glow.
"Now run with me, and remember to stay on the path!" They set off as fast as the wind, over hills and between mountains, the road winding between a green blur of trees. Naramira laughed in exhilaration. She didn't even think of possible dangers lurking off the road. A few minutes later the wood-elf stopped.
"That was wonderful!" Naramira exclaimed. She wasn't even out of breath. "Why have we stopped?"
Breya grinned and pointed. Naramira's gaze followed her finger and she gaped in astonishment. An enormous dwarven warrior was carved into the mountainside. It loomed over the gates of the dwarven city, deterring all those who were not welcome.
"Behold the Gatekeeper of Kaladim," Breya said, a slight note of awe in her voice. "Now I have to leave you here. I'm supposed to be at Crushbone in two days' time, and it's still a long way. It was nice to meet you, Naramira."
"Good luck, and thank you." Naramira waved goodbye as the young wood-elf ran off into the distance. Then she slowly, but purposefully, walked towards the gates of Kaladim.
******
To her great relief, Naramira passed unchallenged through the gates and past the guards, who only nodded in greeting as she entered the dwarven city. A narrow sloping tunnel opened up into a grand entranceway where more guards were milling about. Some of them looked surprised to see her, but none of them were alarmed or outraged to find a human girl walking through their halls.
The entranceway divided into two narrow tunnels. Naramira chose the left tunnel and followed it deeper into the bowels of the earth. So far she did not like Kaladim very much. She could almost feel the weight of the mountain bearing down on her. Her chest felt constricted and she had trouble breathing. The tunnel was dark and when the roof became so low she had to stoop down to continue, Naramira seriously considered turning back.
Then suddenly the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern. She had finally reached the town and it was bustling with activity. There were dwarves everywhere, going about their tasks industriously. Everyone she passed greeted her friendly and the air was abuzz with their conversation.
The first thing she did was find a smithy where she bought a little lantern. The city was poorly lit, which didn't seem to bother anyone else. She assumed dwarven eyesight was better than human vision. Or maybe they were just used to the darkness.
She spent the rest of the day exploring the city and getting hopelessly lost in the twisting mazes and tunnels that formed its streets. She visited the mines where dwarves were digging for precious stones and the ore their smiths would make mithril from. She saw the guards on parade at the king's palace and walked through the hushed corridors of the Temple of Brell.
She paid for a room in an inn above a tavern and spent that night drifting in and out of sleep. Apparently drunken dwarves loved singing, and at the top of their voices too. She awoke the next morning bleary-eyed and a little irritable, but that wasn't going to stop her from exploring the surrounding countryside.
"Leavin' our city so soon, are ye missy?" Naramira was startled to hear the guard ask as she walked through the gate.
She shook her head and wondered if she was supposed to bend down to be at eye level with the dwarf. She wisely decided against it. "No sir, I'll be back this evening. Just thought I'd like to see a little bit more of the Butcherblock Mountains."
"Ye be careful now, little lady. The mountains are a pretty sight to see, that be true, but keep to the road and stay near the guard outposts. There be all sorts of dangerous creatures in these here forests."
"I'll be careful," Naramira promised. She set off along the road, trying not to smile at being called a 'little lady' by someone she towered head and shoulders over.
She was careful. The young enchantress had an active imagination and didn't want to risk the dangers everyone kept warning her about. She spent the day wandering about the open countryside on the edge of the forest, always keeping within sight of the Gatekeeper.
She saw all manner of strange creatures and was once or twice attacked by a foolish young bird-like creature the guards later told her was called a krag. It reminded her a little of Master Jusathorn, her guildmaster, so she tried not to harm it too much.
Another creature, a big striped lizard Naramira thought may be a miniature dragon, also attacked her. It was unexpectedly vicious and at one stage even spat a viscous liquid into Naramira's eyes that temporarily blinded her. She kept her wits about her though and luckily had a magical shield up at the time. Although the lizard put up quite a fight, the young enchantress, armed with her trusty dagger and a stronger suffocation spell at her command, was more than a match for it. When the lizard lay dead at her feet, Naramira sliced open its bloated belly to find a four-inch egg inside. She realised she must have inadvertently stumbled upon its nest, and the mother was just trying to protect her young. She was devastated.
"Ah, young missy, there's nothin' to worry about," the friendly guard said later that night when they were both sitting in the tavern. 'The basilisk be a fierce creature. It will attack anyone on sight, so ye need not be worried ye had aggravated it. Their eggs be rare and much prized by master bakers. Ye should try to sell it in the marketplace."
"Thank you for the advice, Guard Haendar," she smiled, feeling somewhat better about the incident. "Is there anything else I should be wary of?"
"The forest is the domain of the goblins. Nasty creatures they be," he replied, grimacing. "They do unspeakable things to their prisoners, and kill for the fun of it. Do not wander of the road, if ye have any sense." He ordered another round of ale and then said in a conspiratorial voice: "Of course, there be all sorts of nasties in the open countryside too. Ye've met a few of them today, but beware the skunks of this region."
Naramira's eyes widened in fright. She'd seen a skunk that morning, but luckily had given it a wide berth. "Are they very dangerous?"
"Well... not dangerous as such." He cleared his throat and looked slightly embarrassed. "When I was a young lad and first joined the Stormguard, the other guards told me it be an unspoken rule that Captain Ogrebane only accepted newcomers into the force if they brought him the tail of a skunk within a week. So I set out one sunny morn to go and catch me a skunk, and catch him I did. He sprayed a stench on me so foul that Captain Ogrebane took one sniff of me and sent me to guard the furthest outpost, right out on the edge of the Faydark, for two weeks. My unfortunate roommate used to joke that the smell of me frightened the goblins right over the ocean to Sister Isle, where some of 'em would to this day rather face the Cyclops than come within a whiff of me."
Naramira laughed. As the evening wore on the tavern's patrons became more uproarious. Naramira fled to her room not long after the singing started and mercifully managed to have a restful sleep that night.
******
A few weeks passed as Naramira spent the days hunting small game near the city gates. She was becoming more proficient with her new spells. Soon her curiosity got the better of her and she began to venture further and further into the forest, away from the relative safety of the road.
One day she stumbled upon a ring of standing stones. She was in awe. 'This place feels almost sacred,' she thought to herself. 'As if ancient peoples once came here to worship.' She walked around the circle, carefully touching the engravings on the stone and trying to figure out their meaning. 'A place of powerful magic.'
Suddenly she was struck by a magical force that nearly knocked her off her feet. She spun around to see a goblin shaman walking towards her. Pointed teeth glittered from his cruel smile and a necklace made of bones jingled as he came ever closer. His pale green skin glowed in the light of the magic radiating from his hands.
Naramira knew she was no match for her opponent. She turned and ran. 'Which way's the road?' She couldn't remember! She ran wildly through the trees, only to feel her feet sink into the ground as she was rooted to the spot a few minutes later. The hem of her purple robe was covered in mud as the goblin's magic turned the ground into a sticky mire.
She turned to confront her attacker. A Suffocating Sphere hit the goblin and he started to choke, his eyes bulging in surprise. But a goblin shaman was not a fire beetle, nor a basilisk, and he quickly overcame her spell. He fired a disease-based attack at the young enchantress. She started shivering with fever as she felt her life-force slowly draining out of her.
Another Suffocating Sphere hit the goblin and his attack ceased for a moment as he fell to the ground, clawing at his throat for air. Naramira pulled her feet free and ran on, hoping in vain to come upon the road and wishing she'd never set foot off it in the first place.
Frost rifts struck her from behind as the goblin recovered and gave chase. She ran on in a fevered state, her whole body numb with cold. Her only thought was to find the road. She couldn't make her mind focus on more than that.
She'd almost given up hope when she saw flickering torchlight in the distance. Sobbing, she stumbled forward as fast as her injuries allowed. Another icy chill slammed her from behind and she fell down, too tired to get up again. The goblin stood over her, leering, and she closed her eyes while waiting for the killing blow.
"For the glory of Kaladim!" she heard a rough voice call, followed by a shrill gurgling shriek and a hand helping her to her feet. A dwarven guard had seen her plight and came to her rescue just in time. He wordlessly helped her back to the guardhouse, where she spent the night recovering from the attack. She thanked him sincerely the next morning before making her way back to Kaladim, careful to keep to the road.
******
"I warned ye not to go into the forest, young missy," Guard Haendar reprimanded her.
"And I should have listened," Naramira agreed. "But I don't feel safe here anymore and it's time for me to move on." She hefted her satchel onto her back and wrapped her traveller's cloak about her.
"Well, good luck be to ye. Headin' back home, are ye?"
"No. I've always wanted to see Kelethin, which is where I'm going now. I'll keep to the road," she promised quickly as the dwarf's frown deepened. "I'll be careful. Farewell."
"Farewell, little lady. And may Brell be with ye," he called after her.
Naramira looked at the surrounding forest and a shiver ran through her. She cast Invisibility on herself and followed the road east.
_________________________________________________ Author's Note: Second spell-circle – levels 4-7.