With a pitiful growl the bear fell to the ground, dead. Naramira did not like killing animals, but this one had foolishly attacked the young enchantress while walking through the woods of the East Commonlands. She had to protect herself and it was not her fault the bear had thought her an easy meal. She bent down and very adeptly skinned the dead animal, folded the pelt into a neat bundle so it wouldn't drip blood everywhere and stuffed it into her satchel.
"Well, Jabober," she addressed the animated daggers floating by her side. "I think the time has come to move on. Killing spiders and pumas just isn't as challenging as it used to be." The animation didn't reply. It never did. Naramira sighed. She had had no idea that her life would be this solitary when she had accepted the first spell-circle. The Academy had been full of young novices learning the magical arts, but now the young enchantress found herself completely alone, with no one she could really call her friend.
She was on her way back to the inn she was staying at. Her rumbling stomach told her it was just about lunchtime and mistress Elora had been roasting a lamb on the spit since early that morning. Naramira entered the inn and followed her nose to the common-room. Something smelled delicious! Unfortunately, everyone else staying at the inn was thinking the same thing. Not a single table was available. The young enchantress stared perplexed at the bustle.
"You're welcome to share my table," she heard a man's voice say beside her. He was a few years older than Naramira, but still young. A tarnished long-sword and a dented shield leaned against the table. His dark brown hair hung loosely at chin-length and well-developed muscles bulged underneath his chain mail armour. A broad smile welcomed her to his table. Naramira instinctively knew they would get along well.
"Thank you," she said as she sat down opposite him.
"Who's your friend?" he asked, winking at the animation floating by Naramira's side.
"Oh, don't mind him," she replied, blushing. She snapped her fingers and the daggers fell lifelessly to the ground. She quickly picked them up and stuffed them into her satchel. "Just a little extra protection for when I'm hunting, although Jabober is usually more trouble than he's worth."
The man grinned. "You need protection, then?"
"More often than you might think," she joked. "I keep waiting for my knight in shining armour to come to my rescue, but no such luck so far." She blushed as she suddenly realised what that must have sounded like to the man.
His smile only broadened and he said: "You might be in luck today then. My name is Jaldore, paladin of ten seasons. Hero and rescuer of damsels in distress."
Naramira laughed. "Naramira, enchantress of the third circle and damsel frequently in distress," she introduced herself. She smiled brightly at a waitress as the girl put two steaming plates of food before the companions. The noise in the common-room lessened as the people enjoyed their meal.
"So," Naramira said. "What brings you to the Commonlands?"
"I'm on my first quest," the paladin replied. "The Knights of Truth, the order I belong to, has opened hostilities against the Deathfist. I'm to find their main camp and… well, let's just say I have to make them regret ever coming within a stone's throw of Freeport."
"And you're going to do this all by yourself?" Naramira asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. She knew paladins were skilled fighters, warriors who had dedicated their lives to the service of their god, but they were not invincible. It would take more than just a holy resolve to take an orc camp out on your own.
"I could use a little help, I guess," Jaldore admitted. "Are you familiar with the area?"
Naramira nodded. "I've seen their main camp, a dozen or so tents grouped together in a circle. They have no defensive structures surrounding the camp, but regular patrols sweep the perimeter and I've seen the glimmer of crude magic brightening the camp at night. My guess is that you'll have to deal with more than just swords if you try to attack it."
The paladin looked impressed. "You seem to have spent some time studying them."
"It's personal," Naramira replied. "One of them tried to kill me once." Her hand involuntarily strayed to her back where the orcish spear had pierced her a few months ago. She did not have any plans of revenge, but if this paladin was going to hunt orc, she was going with him.
They talked tactics while finishing their meal. Naramira described everything she knew about the orcs' habits, while Jaldore mulled it all over, carefully considering their options. Finally, he said: "I think it's quite clear we can't do this on our own. We'll need help."
"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," a high-elf woman interrupted them. Her lustrous long blonde hair hung down to her waist and her blue eyes were keen. She was dressed in black plate armour and a steel mace was strapped to her belt. "My name is Tempesta," she introduced herself. "A cleric of Tunare of the third order. I would like to aid you in this venture."
"Welcome, friend," Jaldore greeted her and motioned to her to sit at their table. She accepted his offer. "That makes three of us," the paladin said. "Would that be enough?"
Naramira looked doubtful and Tempesta shook her head. "No, but I can make a few enquiries among the other patrons of this inn. I guarantee that by tomorrow morning, we'll have at least three more people willing to join us."
"That's settled then," Jaldore said. "We'll meet at dawn's first light."
The grass was still wet with morning dew. It soaked through Naramira's green robe, making her shiver. The orc camp stood in the shade of a looming mountain, the sun's heat would not be warming her any time soon. She lay on her stomach, carefully peering over the hill at the camp, Jaldore and Tempesta to either side of her.
Jaldore motioned to their companions, a man, a woman and a halfling who had been unwilling to tell them what profession he followed. Together, the six adventurers slowly crept down the hill, until they were within bowshot of the camp, but still safely concealed by the woods. Everyone gathered around the paladin, who said in a hushed voice: "Here's the plan. We pick the sentries off one by one as they guard the perimeter, as quietly as possible. We don't want the whole camp to come charging at us."
"If that happens, Naramira can take care of it," Tempesta said confidently.
'I can?' Naramira thought to herself, alarmed. She motioned the cleric to one side and whispered urgently in her ear: "How am I going to take care of it?"
The elf smiled kindly. "Have you learned to mesmerise yet?"
Naramira nodded. "I've never used the spell, but I know the words."
"Good. I don't know how it works exactly, but I know it's something only an enchanter can do, or so the last one I fought alongside with assured me. It stops the enemy right in it's tracks. If things start getting bad, try it out."
They rejoined the others, Naramira slightly shaken by the responsibility the cleric had just dropped on her shoulders. She did not have any notion what it was like fighting with a group of other people and it suddenly seemed to her as if all their lives depended on her. She hoped fervently the fight would be an easy one.
"Everyone ready?" Jaldore asked. Everybody nodded in assent, but for the other man in the group. He said an incantation that sounded strange to Naramira and suddenly, with a rush of wind, an air elemental hovered by his side.
"Marr!" Naramira exclaimed and unsheathed her dirk. A protective shielding surrounded her almost immediately, and she readied herself for the attack, the words of suffocation already on her lips.
The man threw his hands in the air, warding her off. "Don't be alarmed," he said, shocked at her violent reaction.
"What in the name of all the gods is that?" Jaldore demanded, pointing at the elemental.
"It's my pet," the man explained. "I'm a magician, if you haven't realised by now. I summon elemental beings to do my bidding." He looked at Naramira, who was still tensed and glaring at the insubstantial creature.
"Keep that thing away from me," was all she said between clenched teeth.
"Anyone else have any surprises for us?" Jaldore asked, unconsciously edging closer to the furious enchantress, placing himself between her and the elemental.
"Uh, yes," the other woman in the group said, looking in the direction of the camp. She unhooked her bow from around her shoulder and quickly drew an arrow. "There's an orc centurion heading this way."
Jaldore spun around to look in the direction she was aiming. The orc had not seen them yet, but he must have heard the commotion. He was carefully walking towards the woods where they were hidden, his long spear pointed out in front of him.
The woman let loose her arrow, which hit the orc squarely in the chest. It fell to the ground with a thud, no cry of help escaping his lips. The woman quickly darted out of the bushes and pulled the body into the woods.
"Good work, Rawena," Jaldore called softly to her. She smiled briefly before creeping back to the edge of the trees and waited for another orc to come within range.
She didn't have to wait long. Soon another centurion came into view and Rawena let loose another arrow, but her aim was off this time and she swore as it pierced the orc's thigh. The orc bellowed in pain. Rawena turned and ran to the rest of the group. "We might have trouble," she warned.
"I'd say so," the magician said, an edge of panic in his voice. Five orcs, including the wounded centurion, were rushing towards them. With angry shouts they dashed into the woods and confronted the group of adventurers.
Jaldore drew his sword and parried the wounded orc's spear thrust. Then three others were on top of him, the fifth orc standing off to one side, mumbling something incoherent. The halfling darted into the fray, pulled two evil-looking daggers from his sleeves and stabbed at the orcs from behind. Rawena threw her bow to the ground, drew her own sword and also started hacking left and right. With an imperious gesture the magician sent the elemental into battle, then pulled out his spellbook and started muttering under his breath.
Off to one side, just out of melee range, Naramira stood as if transfixed. What could she do to help? None of her solitary hunting experience had prepared her for this!
"Enchantress!" Tempesta yelled, her hands glowing with magic. "Mesmerise them! Quickly!"
The shouted command propelled the young enchantress into action. She said the unfamiliar words of the spell and pointed a finger at the mumbling orc just as a white light started emanating from his hands. A purple ring of magic surrounded her target and suddenly she could feel the orc's mind struggling against her will. But Naramira was stronger. He was unable to break loose from her spell and stood entranced, incapable of moving a muscle except for his eyes. Naramira shouted in elation!
Quickly she cast her magic on the other orcs, but almost as soon as she could feel them in her mind, her control over them was severed as the other group members slashed at the orcs, distracting them from Naramira's compulsion. As one, they turned away from their attackers and rushed towards the enchantress. She had just enough time to be terrified before three short swords slashed at her. She cried out in pain, but as quickly as she was lacerated, her wounds healed magically as the cleric prayed for her goddess' blessing on the young enchantress.
"Pick on somebody your own size!" Jaldore shouted. He had finished off the wounded orc and now began hacking wildly at the other three surrounding Naramira. Their attention diverted, she scrambled away from the fight, only to see one of the orcs ignoring the paladin's taunts and rushing at Tempesta. The cleric was defenceless, too busy trying to keep Jaldore alive to protect herself.
"No!" Naramira shouted as the orc raised his sword to strike the elf. She said the words and the orc stood transfixed, eyes rolling wildly as it realised it could not move. The cleric smiled gratefully before continuing her prayers.
Suddenly everything turned dark. 'I'm blind!' Naramira panicked. A magical force struck her, propelling her backwards. She hit the trunk of a tree and slid painfully to the ground. Her body ached, but she ignored it, focussing on the sounds around her and trying to anticipate another attack. She felt the mesmerised orc break free from her restraint and heard a shout of alarm from the magician. Then something grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up, her feet dangling in the air. An orc bellowed a war cry in her face, his stinking breath almost enough to knock her unconscious. Just as suddenly as it had disappeared, her vision returned. She stared into a face livid with an animal hatred. She reacted out of pure instinct. Bright colours surrounded her and, as the orc stood stunned, she quickly mesmerised it.
There was no time to be relieved. The battle raged on around her. Jaldore and Rawena faced an orc each, while Tempesta stood with her hand against a tree for support, exhausted. The air elemental and the halfling were trying to distract an orc chasing the magician, who was running around in circles in a vain attempt to escape.
As quickly as she could, Naramira mesmerised the pursuing orc and the one facing Rawena. "Everyone help Jaldore!" she shouted. "I can keep the rest occupied." 'I hope.' The others heard and complied. As one they attacked their single target, which didn't last long with the team's combined might directed at him. As he fell to the ground, they all turned and attacked Rawena's orc. Naramira heard a grunt beside her and turned to see her own orc slowly moving his right arm. 'Oh no, you don't!' Another purple ring glowed around him and he glared at her with wild eyes.
She watched as the group killed Rawena's orc, howls of frustration from the other two entranced orcs ringing inside her head. It was an odd feeling, their awareness imprisoned in a corner of her mind. Her power over them was complete, although she could feel them striving to break free. It came almost as a shock to her when one of the orcs' attention on her was diverted by a slash of the paladin's blade. Forgetting completely about the enchantress' influence, the orc lifted his own blade in defence. He was still exhausted from chasing after the magician though, and the group quickly finished him off.
"I have one here waiting for you," she reminded her companions. "It's an oracle, so beware his magic."
"He's no match for us," Jaldore grinned. With one accurate swing, the paladin decapitated the orc, then wiped his bloody blade on the body. "Phew. Good fight," he said, still grinning.
"An arrow at any one of them will bring all six to us," Rawena said, frowning as she looked at the guards mulling about the entrance to the orc camp. It was late afternoon, the alarm had been raised in the camp after many of their comrades had mysteriously disappeared. The wary orcs now patrolled the perimeter in groups of two or three, eyeing the surrounding forest distrustfully.
"I'm sure our enchantress can take of it," Jaldore replied. He was covered in blood, some of it his own, but the healing prayers of the elven cleric had kept him and the rest of the group alive through a whole day of close calls. The paladin had proven himself a skilled fighter, although his sword was now notched in several places.
Naramira couldn't help but smile at the vote of confidence in her. She had learned many things during the course of the day. She now knew she had power over the minds of others in a way more profound than she had ever imagined. She had also, however, tested the limits of that power and knew that it was far from absolute. "I can handle two or three extras, but more than that is beyond my abilities at this point," she said truthfully.
"With the halfling gone, it might prove difficult to kill them fast enough before they break free from Naramira's control," Tempesta remarked.
"Looks like you might need some help," a cheerful voice said unexpectedly, startling everybody, hands reaching for weapons as they all quickly spun about to confront the speaker. A lovely high-elf girl smiled merrily at the adventurers. Her long golden hair glistened in the sun and she was dressed in a green robe similar to Naramira's elven robe.
"Lyise!" Jaldore exclaimed, rushing forward to hug her. "What are you doing here? I thought you went home." He smiled, obviously pleased to see her again.
"I changed my mind. It happens quite frequently," she replied whimsically. "Now are you going to introduce me to your friends or do I have to steal your mind and read your thoughts?" she joked.
The paladin laughed and quickly introduced his companions. "And this is Lyise, an enchantress also of the third circle," he finished. "She might just be able to supply the added control we need to take care of those orcs."
"Let's get started then," the magician said. "The sun will set soon and I have no inclination to be in these woods after dark." He shivered and looked nervously around at the surrounding trees, his pet elemental hovering by his side.
Jaldore nodded and Rawena crept closer to the camp. She aimed carefully and let loose an arrow. The nearest orc fell to the ground with a roar, the arrow firmly wedged inside his abdomen. His companions stared uncomprehendingly at his body for a few seconds, then rushed at the woods to where the adventurers were hidden. Another orc, taller and brawnier than the others, who had sat unnoticed inside the nearest tent, also stormed into the woods, wielding a mighty axe.
"That's a clan chief!" was all Jaldore had chance to say before he was overwhelmed by the onslaught. Rawena jumped to his aid as the two enchantresses struggled to keep the mass of orcs mesmerised in the confusion. Tempesta had her hands up in the air, a continuous invocation to her goddess on her lips.
A shrill scream suddenly pierced the air. Naramira spun about to see the orc clan chief wrenching his bloody axe from the dead magician's head. Her stomach convulsed and she struggled not to gag at the caster's mangled body, his one arm chopped off at the elbow and soaking the grass with dark red blood. The orc looked up from his kill and saw the shocked enchantress. Almost instantly he stood in front of her, his axe raised high for another killing blow.
All of a sudden blood squirted over her and the orc's arm flew through the air, still clenching the axe. He bellowed in pain as Jaldore's sword cut into his side. The orc twisted around, pulling the weapon out of the paladin's grasp and wrenched it out of his body. Jaldore's eyes widened as his opponent, bleeding heavily and holding the weapon in his left hand, challenged him with his own sword. As the orc rushed the unarmed paladin, Naramira reacted, almost without thinking. She drew her dirk and threw it at the orc. Her aim had never been truer. It pierced the orc chief in the back and he dropped the sword in surprise. The enchantress wrenched her dirk from his back as bright colours suddenly fluxed about her, stunning him motionless. She had given Jaldore just enough time to pick his sword up and in one fluid motion, he lopped the clan chief's head off.
The paladin flashed her a brief smile before a shout from Tempesta drew his attention. "Paladin! Come swiftly!" The cleric was fighting an orc off, parrying his sword adeptly with her own steel mace. "Not me!" she shouted as Jaldore came to her aid. "Rawena!"
The ranger lay on her back on the grass a few feet away, her sword discarded and her face turning blue. The dead magician's liberated air elemental was on top of her and was slowly choking her to death. Jaldore slashed at the elemental, only to find his sword pass through the insubstantial body harmlessly. He uttered an oath as the creature turned from the woman and fixed its cold gaze on him.
Naramira felt an icy shiver run down her back. She had known the elemental would turn out to be a danger to them all. She had never trusted the creature for an instant.
She threw a quick glance at Lyise to see if she was still coping. Beads of sweat stood on the elven enchantress' forehead as she struggled to keep the three remaining orcs mesmerised. Tempesta had killed her orc and now crouched at Rawena's side, muttering words of healing.
Then she ran to Jaldore's side. The paladin was down on one knee, only great strength of will kept him from succumbing to the elemental. "Jaldore, use my dirk. It's magical," she said urgently. She quickly mesmerised the creature, but the malign will suddenly trapped in her mind slammed her consciousness with a force of pure hatred. She fell to the ground, the creature freed from her domination.
"No!" Jaldore roared. He grabbed Naramira's dirk and stuck it deep into the creature's body. He watched in grim satisfaction as the elemental's airy torso dissipated. Then he rushed over to the young enchantress and gently lifted her head from the ground. "Nara, are you alright?" he asked, worried.
She opened her eyes and smiled at the paladin. "Did you kill it?"
He nodded wordlessly.
"I hate to interrupt you two," Tempesta said, smiling. "But our other enchantress is still struggling to keep three orcs busy here."
Naramira blushed prettily and Jaldore coughed, embarrassed. He helped Naramira to her feet, then took up his sword again and began a grim dance of death.
Mistress Elora's common-room was quiet that evening. She frowned disapprovingly at the four adventurers sitting near the fireplace. They had caused quite a stir among her other patrons when they had returned earlier that evening, blood-spattered, the paladin carrying the limp body of one of their companions, but a triumphant look upon their faces.
"Will Rawena be alright?" Lyise asked, concern etched upon her face.
"It will take her a day or two to recover," Tempesta replied. "I've healed her body, but she's still in shock. That's something I cannot help her with."
"That poor magician," the elven enchantress continued. "I wonder if he had any family? They would surely like to know where his body is buried."
Naramira paled at the recollection. She had not liked the man very much and had distrusted him for summoning the elemental in the first place. His death had been gruesome, however. She wouldn't have wished it on him or anyone else.
"I will make some enquiries when I return to Freeport," Jaldore said, playing distractedly with a necklace of war-beads he had looted from the orc clan chief's corpse. "He will be remembered in the annals of the Knights of Truth as having helped us rout the Deathfist. His family can take pride in that."
Master Jusathorn's words suddenly came to the young enchantress. 'You could die a month from now, but you could die gloriously, your name and your deeds forever remembered in song.' It seemed a small compensation for such a horrible death to her. 'All you need to do is decide what you want from life.' With a start, she realised what the guildmaster had been trying to tell her all along. Life is about living. It was as simple as that. She just had to make the most of every moment, no matter what the rewards or consequences might be.
"You seem deep in thought, Nara," Jaldore interrupted her thoughts, the familiar shortening of her name coming easily to his lips. "Is something troubling you?"
"No, I've just realised something profoundly simple," she said, smiling. Then she changed the subject. "Are we all going our separate ways tomorrow then?"
The two elves nodded, but the paladin frowned. "I have to return to my order to report on what we've done today. Would you like to come with me, Nara?" he asked.
Naramira smiled, surprised. "I would like to, but there's something else I need to do first. Can I catch up with you in a month or so?" She had been putting off making the trip to High Hold Keep to buy a specific spell for some time now. She figured she was ready to go on that journey now.
Jaldore nodded and stood up to go to bed. "I will see you soon then." He smiled at Lyise and Tempesta. "May we meet again."
"In this life or the next," Tempesta agreed. Lyise only smiled.
Author's Note: Some names have been changed and some have been added to enhance the plot. Apologies to anyone mentioned in this tale (previous chapters and those to come) whose names are similar and have no recollection of the events depicted.