“You will pay for this,” Taeben hissed. Dorlagar laughed and pulled both of them through the door. “Have you lost your mind, Ginny?” he whispered to Gin in Elvish, hoping that Dorlagar didn’t speak it. The human’s bloodlust had already begun to creep in around his vision and he paid them no attention, motivated only by getting them to the arena and to his master.
“No, and if you’ll do as I say we will get out of here. As soon as he cuts our ropes in front of Lord Taanyth you distract him and I will kill Dorlagar,” Gin replied, her voice barely audible. “Then return to my side and we transport away, safe and sound.”
“That is a ridiculous plan,” Taeben whispered back. “How about once we get there we both just port out?”
“Because Dorlagar needs killing,” Gin said, smiling gravely as she thought of how many times she had heard Hackort say that very phrase in the relatively short time she had known the gnome warrior, “and I’m the one that has to do it.”
“You’re the one to do what? Whimper? Bat your eyelashes?” Taeben asked angrily. “You are no more able to kill that human than you are the rat that just ran over your foot.” Gin jumped, kicking the foul creature off her boot and nearly pulling the rope out of Dorlagar’s grip.
“That’s no use, Blueberry,” the human growled as he stopped walking and turned to face her. “Naughty girl, trying to get away.”
“I wasn’t, Dor, I swear,” Gin pleaded, but soon fell silent at the sight of his eyes, blood red and seeming to glow as he glared at her. She remained silent the rest of the way to the dragon’s chambers in the belly of the Keep, but could not stop shaking the closer they got. Images of the Fabled Ones settled in her mind; she saw Sath bravely charging toward an enemy and the two warriors bellowing curses as they ran, weapons raised. But more to the point, she pictured Elysiam, her eyes blazing rather than hollow or afraid, regardless of what she had been through. “I need your strength, Elys,” she whispered as Dor loosed her hands and then, after a long glare at Taeben, crossed the room to call for Lord Taanyth.
After leaving the group, Sath had headed for the room Gin and her sister rented above the tavern in the outpost. It was lucky that when he had burst through the door Lairky was gone, or he might have started with her to soothe his wounds. He could find no clear reason why Gin would have stayed behind, and the absence of an answer combined with the voice in his head wondering why he should care at all was driving him mad. The Qatu paused for a moment by the bed, picking up one of the pillows. He buried his face in it for a moment, breathing deeply. “Gin,” he whispered, and then his face contorted with rage. His claws ripped the pillow to shreds in only a few swift motions, and then began to ravage the bedclothes. When the bed was bare save scraps of fabric, he lifted it off the floor and threw it up against the wall. The wooden frame shattered into splinters.
Sath moved next to the backpacks hanging on pegs next and tore them easily into tatters. He paused for a moment as his paw rested on the magical bridle that Gin used to summon her enchanted pony, Beau. He spoke the words that he had heard Gin speak hundreds of times, but the horse did not appear. Flinging the bridle to the ground, he continued to tear apart everything he found until his eyes lit on a faded leather journal that had fallen out of its place, tucked into his tunic.
Sath sank to his knees, holding the precious book to his chest. It was because of this journal that she had come into his life in the first place. “An interesting experiment, the attempted taming the Bane of the Forest,” he said, steely coldness settling in his eyes. “But it is over.”
A pounding on the door roused him, and he walked over to answer it after carefully placing the book back in the one remaining backpack. When he opened the door, an angry looking human stood glaring at him, muscled forearms emerging from his rolled-up sleeves as he crossed them across his chest. “Erolith…apologies for the noise,” Sath said.
“It’s not the noise,” Erolith, proprietor of the tavern and the inn above it, said harshly. “You’ll be paying for the destruction of my property, I suppose? Where are the wood elves that live here? Why, I knew I should not have let you come up here, but that Gin seemed so sweet and if you are a friend of hers…. Well, I could not say no. I should have my head examined! Now, that will be ten platinum pieces for the furniture, next month’s rent in advance, hmm…”
Sath interrupted the Erolith’s calculations by shoving a sack of platinum pieces at him. “There, that should cover it.”
The man stared at the sack and dumbly nodded his head. The door shut in his face before he could ask about the pretty elf’s plans, so he turned and descended the stairs. He would ask when that sack of money ran out.
Days went by and the Fabled Ones had no word from Sath. Sent to track him down, they reluctantly complied. “This is a bad idea, guys,” Teeand mumbled as he followed Hackort and the others up the stairs to the room that Lairceach and Gin were renting above the tavern. “You heard the landlord, Sath’s in a state right now, and I can’t say as I blame him.” They had answered the summons to the tavern, and Erolith was quick to tell them about the Qatu laying waste to his property upstairs.
“Hush, Tee,” Hackort said as he hopped up the stairs. “Curse the minds that designed the buildings in this outpost for not thinking of gnomish legs!”
“Do I need to carry you, wee man?” Elysiam quipped as she followed the gnome. Hackort glared over his shoulder at her and then continued his hopping. “Gotta say that I agree with Tee though…Sath’s either going to want to go hunting with us again or he’s going to knock the lot of us for a loop for even turning up here.”
Gaelin smiled. “He will have the opportunity to do neither,” he said, his voice calm and even as always. “I will see to that.” They reached the top of the stairs and the mage laid a hand on the gnome’s head. “A moment, Hackort, before you burst through the door?”
Hackort shook Gaelin’s hand off his head. “I wasn’t going to burst through the door,” he said, clearly irritated. “What is it?”
Gaelin spoke some words quietly in a long forgotten language, and a water elemental appeared next to his shoulder, taking the group aback slightly. The creature wore a stern expression and carried a large scimitar. “Now then, knock.”
“Is that really necessary, Gaelin?” Teeand asked, his own expression matching that of the elemental.
“I think it may be, yes,” Gaelin said.
Hackort knocked on the door. “G’way! I paid ya yer money, ya stinkin hoomin!” Sath’s voice bellowed from the other side.
“Great, a drunk cat,” Elysiam muttered. “Glad you pulled the elemental out of your bag of tricks, Gaelin, this could get ugly.”
Hackort snarled at Elysiam and knocked again. “It’s just us, Sath,” he said, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.
“I sed g’way!”
“See if it is unlocked, Teeand,” Gaelin said.
Teeand glanced up at the wizard. “Are you insane?” he said.
“Tee? Zat you?” Sath said, the sound of his voice moving closer to the door.
Teeand glared angrily at the others. “Aye, Sath, tis me.”
“I’ll letchoo in but tell the others to stay outside,” Sath said as he fumbled with the lock on the door.
Teeand stepped up to the door. “Now who’s insane?” he said as Hackort spat something under his breath, but Teeand shot him a look that silenced the gnome. The door opened a crack, and Teeand pushed his way in just before one of Sath’s giant clawed hands slammed it shut behind him.
“Now what?” Hackort said impatiently.
“Now we wait,” Gaelin said, speaking to the gnome as a father would to a child. A wave of his long, manicured fingers dismissed the elemental. “Have a seat, wee man; this may take a long while.”
The room was in shambles. Teeand drew in his breath sharply as he scanned the scene before him. “What happened here, Sath?” he said slowly.
“I happind,” Sath slurred, sinking back down on to the floor, his
back against the door. “Whatuvit?”
Teeand thought for a moment before he spoke. “What can I do for you, my old friend?” he said as calmly as he could as he walked over to stand in front of Sath, looking him in the eye.
“Nuttin,” Sath said, taking another swig from the bottle he held with a grip like a vice. “I’ll be okays, dontcha worry none.” He raised the bottle again to his lips, and the pressure of his grip shattered it. “IKRUHZ teeth,” he muttered, “thass the fourth one.” Teeand looked to the right of the cat and saw a pile of shattered glass in a puddle of warm ale. “Isss okay tho, I’ve got nuthers,” Sath said as he struggled to stand. Forgetting about the glass on the floor, Sath placed one giant hand right in the middle of the pile to push himself up from the floor and howled as the shards tore at his skin.
Teeand stood still, fighting the urge to call Elysiam in to heal Sath’s wounds. He wondered for a moment if her magic would work through the door. “You don’t look very okay to me, Sath,” he said, wrinkling his brow. “In fact, you look pretty pitiful and drunk, and coming from a dwarf that’s saying something.”
Sath glared down at Teeand, holding his injured hand to his chest. “Be glad I hurt muhself, dorf, or I’d backhand ya one,” he snarled. Teeand rolled his eyes but took a step back.
“So, what are you going to do, Sath, drink until she either comes back or you die?” Teeand hissed at him. “Either way, not a pretty sight and not one I’d care to hang around and witness.” The thought of telling Sath that Hackort wanted to rescue Gin entered Teeand’s mind, but he quickly thought better of it. Sath was in no state to fight, and he would only get himself and the gnome killed if he tried.
“Just lemme alone, dorf,” Sath said as he searched for something to bandage his paw. “Take the others and lemme lone.”
Teeand scratched his jaw a moment. “Fine, if that’s what you want,” he said as he moved toward the door.
“I want her dead,” Sath whispered. “Thass what I want, dorf, her and that human dead.” Teeand winced at his friend’s words. Sath was definitely not fit to come with them yet, and especially not under the banner of The Fabled Ones.
“You don’t mean that, Sath,” Teeand said quietly as he placed a hand on the doorknob. As his fingers closed around it, he mused briefly that it seemed to be the only thing left intact in the room.
“Aye, I do means it, and if you’uns plan to steal dat kill frum me I’ll kills all of you too!” Sath bellowed. Teeand swallowed hard, opened the door and walked slowly through it. “I mean it dorf!” Not finding any bandages, Sath hurled the remains of a backpack after Teeand. He growled as it bounced off the now closed door.
“Okay, change of plans, guys,” Teeand said. “Gaelin, could you please leave your elemental here to guard Sath? He is not to leave this room until he is sober and thinking clearly. Letting him loose right now would be dangerous to the public at large.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Teeand,” Gaelin replied, his tone somber as he spoke. “If you and yours hold out any hope of regaining a friendship with the Qatu Sathlir, you must leave this alone. The druid has made her choice, and you must honor it, just as you must give him time to get past his anger.”
“We can’t just leave Ginny there,” Hackort whined. “She can’t have made that choice on her own!”
“You know, as much as I love a good fight,” Elysiam said as she laid a hand on the gnome’s head, “we have been in there twice now. We have fought well but I know that I am not the only one that may need time to heal before we go in again. Teeand made the decision, Hack. We are not going back.” Hackort looked up at her to protest but stopped as her gaze met his. “If our Ginny has made the decision to stay then going in and getting hurt again will not make her leave. Gaelin, as much as it pains me to agree with a high elf, on this you are right.” She picked up her bag from the floor and gathered her things. “I’m going to go to the great hall. I need some time to think.” She left the tavern and after a moment or two Hackort followed her.
“It is for the best, Teeand,” Gaelin said, turning his gaze back to the dwarf warrior at his side that was positively radiating with anger.
“I did not want to rescue the wood elf,” Teeand hissed. “I was going to end her. Just me, not us, not under the banner of the Fabled Ones. She has, in her short time with us, somehow destroyed all that was my friend, Sath, and turned him back to the Bane of the Forest…he is exactly what she expected him to be, and for that I cannot suffer her to live.”
“This I knew, Teeand,” Gaelin said, bowing his head sadly. “You must not waste your time on such endeavors. Your friend Sathlir needs you, and you must go after him and keep him from ruining all the good he has done. We in Alynatalos knew of the Bane of the Forest just as the wood elves did, and I must say upon meeting him I was pleasantly surprised by Sathlir’s devotion to Ginolwenye. I think he still has it in him, but it will take a true friend to help him find it again.”
“Aye,” Teeand agreed, tugging on his beard. “I should also make a stop in at home if I know what’s good for me. Nehrys has sent letter after letter. My children need their father…and perhaps a bit of time with my brood would be just what our feline friend needs to sort him out.” He extended his arm to Gaelin who grasped it just below the elbow, a common greeting and parting. “May your travels be wondrous and safe, my friend,” Teeand said.
“Aye, and yours as well, Teeand. May there always be a pint of ale, a warm welcome, and a bowl of stew at the end of your journey.” Gaelin smiled affectionately down at Teeand. “Should our paths not cross again, I will be proud to say that I fought with the Fabled Ones, and I owe them my life.”
“Of course they will cross again, Gaelin, don’t be daft,” Teeand chuckled. He picked up his pack and headed back for Sath’s door. “Well, unless I get eaten by that cat in there, that is.” Gaelin smiled a sad smile and turned to leave, seemingly floating across the tavern floor.
Once outside the tavern, Gaelin pulled out his spell book and thumbed through the pages until he found a spell of transportation. “I fear you are wrong, brave Teeand,” he said as he scanned the page with his long finger, nodding. “But I meant what I said, I owe the Fabled Ones my life, and I will start paying off that debt by setting the druid and that poor wizard free…or I shall die trying.” Gaelin’s voice was low as he read the words of the spell, and then snapped the book shut as he spoke the final word that determined the destination. “Outlands.”
The ancient mage threw on a magical cloak of invisibility as he drew close to the entrance of the ruined Keep. Gaelin mused on the irony that for months, he had only wanted to be free of the place and now he was walking back in the front gate on his own, AGAIN. The ancient mage progressed silently across the stone floors, almost levitating as he moved. His robes, the color of the blackest night, hung absolutely still on his emaciated frame. He had completely ensconced himself in the magic that kept him moving as well as kept him virtually undetected. There were benefits to having been alive as long as he had been.
He concentrated on the wood elf druid that had come with Sathlir to rescue him from the awful cells in the Keep. Sending out tendrils of magical power, he searched the ruin for her energy. Gaelin smiled sadly as he searched. Had he tried this before, they would have been able to snatch Gin away from danger and get all of them out safely, but the All Mother moved in her own mysterious ways.
Gin was farther in than the drawbridge, past the parapets of the castle, near the…ah, there she was. He had only to focus on the wretched slaves still held in the cells and he managed to pick up Gin’s energy nearby.
Without any hesitation, Gaelin removed a dark stone from the pack at his hip and held it between his palms. Almost immediately, the gem began to feel warm, and as he spoke the words in Elder Elvish to cast the spell, he focused on Gin’s face and her energy. “I cannot hide from you, Ginolwenye,” he whispered, and with that, the spell cast and Gaelin disappeared.
He reappeared in th
e arena in the center of the Keep and spotted Gin across the room, standing defiantly in front of the massive indigo dragon. Gaelin ducked back into a hallway to the side of the great room, moving quickly even though there was no indication that anyone had seen him. He looked back in time to see the antediluvian reptile lower his head and stare at Gin, then felt more than heard the rumble of Taanyth’s voice as he spoke the words of the spell.
Gaelin looked across the room from where he hovered and spotted Dorlagar. The human was watching the dragon carefully and Gaelin wondered for a moment if he was under the thrall of Taanyth’s spell. Next to him stood Taeben, and Gaelin smiled sadly at the high elf whose sole attention was on Gin. By all rights, he should have been watching the spell work, hoping that his research would please the dragon. Gaelin had been in Taeben’s shoes, forced to research the spell for Lord Taanyth, and had borne the brunt of his own inability to figure out certain aspects of what the dragon wanted to do. Instead of being visibly concerned for his own safety, however, Taeben appeared moved by what Gin was enduring. Perhaps he wasn’t the heartless creature Gaelin had thought him to be back in the cells.
Gin held her ground, her eyes closed and her hands fisted at her sides. Gaelin, by the sheer amount of time he had walked the face of Orana, could see the magic flowing from the dragon. It was black, as black as the robes Gaelin wore, and it began to obscure his view of the wood elf. He heard her cry out from the center of the dark cloud of magic, and then watched as it dissipated. She was still standing. “Good girl,” Gaelin whispered as he made his way across the room, imperceptibly stopping just behind Dorlagar as the human crossed to where Gin stood and rebound her hands. He noticed Taeben following along behind as Dorlagar led his prisoner away from an angry Lord Taanyth.
“Wizard!” the dragon rumbled as sparks began to appear around his huge nostrils.
“I will fix it, my lord,” Taeben responded, taking care not to look up at the dragon.
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