by Sam Ferguson
Talon cursed silently and started to search the room. Talon inspected the small desk near the window and found a journal. He opened it tentatively and read a few excerpts. Nothing seemed all that important. The elf who wrote in the journal used Common Tongue and wrote of the weather, of the forest, and a few poems. Nothing was mentioned about the King’s Ring, or the drow, or any other elf for that matter. It appeared as if Talon had simply blundered into the home of a lone hermit. He continued to search through the desk and found nothing. Talon tapped his right fist on the desk, checking for secret compartments, but he found none.
“Where have you put it?” Talon asked aloud as he looked about the small room. Talon glanced out the window to the road below. He smiled when he saw the hare had returned and was sitting where he had first seen him. “I will come for you in a minute, my little friend,” Talon assured the rabbit.
He walked over to the wooden bureaus and opened them both. The first was entirely empty. He knocked around its walls, but again he found no secret compartments hidden inside. He then turned to the second wardrobe. He found two tunics, one of them tan, and the other was green. Talon slid his hand over the surface of the wood on the inside, feeling for anything that might give away a secret compartment, but there was nothing. Next he opened the drawer at the bottom of the bureau. Inside he found random clothes, but as he rummaged through them he found a small envelope with a letter inside. He opened it.
“Taish, the language of the elves,” Talon growled as he saw that the writing was written in a foreign tongue. He had no way of understanding what was written. He slammed the paper down, frustrated. He glanced back to the journal at the desk. It had been written in Common Tongue.
“If this elf writes his journal in the Common Tongue, then why would someone send him a letter in Taish?” Talon asked aloud. He squatted down and picked up the parchment again. Talon scrutinized the writing on the letter more carefully, looking for any indication of where it had come from. Still he could not make out anything of use. He dropped it again and opened the second drawer. Inside were a few knives and a large bow, as well as another letter. He picked up the letter and opened it. This one was written in Common Tongue. It was apparently from Jahre, as it bore the old elf’s name at the bottom. Talon sniggered as he read the letter which instructed Elroa, presumably the elf who resided within the tower, how to hide the ring inside of the table, inside of the single wooden column which supported the table-top.
Talon eagerly jumped over to the table and grabbed one end of it as if to rip off the top, but then his instincts got the better of him. He had been living among the shadows long enough to smell a trap. It clicked for him. The journal and the letter from Jahre were both written in Common Tongue to throw any would-be thieves off. Talon picked up a chair, placed himself four feet away from the table, and swung the chair up under the table top, slamming into the table with enough force to break the top from the base. Talon then dropped the chair and backed off, expecting some sort of trap to spring.
Nothing happened.
Talon cautiously walked back to the column and kicked it over so that the hole in the top would face the wall. No sooner had he done so than three darts fired from the hole and glanced off of the tower’s stone wall. A cloud of brown smoke snaked out of the opening and licked the marks on the stone where the darts had struck.
“As I thought,” Talon said. He picked up the wooden column from the bottom and turned it upside down. He wasn’t about to reach into the hollowed out column. If the ring was inside, he would shake it out. He slammed the column onto the floor and then shook it. Nothing fell out. The table was simply a diversion, meant to kill any foolish seeker of the ring.
Talon tossed the column aside and resumed searching the room. Soon the bed was overturned, the bureau was thrown to the ground, and even some of the floor planks had been ripped from their positions, but no ring was found. Not even another clue as to where it could be or who was watching over it. Talon fumed about the room for a few moments, until his eyes again found the letter written in Taish.
“Perhaps I should find someone who can translate that letter,” Talon mused aloud. Maybe it holds a clue as to where this ring is.”
He went to the drawer and stuffed the letter into his pocket. He knew there was a town fairly close to the north. He could find someone there to help him. Talon smiled wide. He did love interrogating people.
Talon rose to his feet and gave one last look through the items in the room.
Something squeaked behind him. He wheeled around to see a false panel fall to the floor and out from a secret compartment stepped a small, man-like creature.
“Easy now,” the being said.
Talon drew his sword upon seeing the large spear the small creature held. “Are you an elf?”
“That’s no elf!” Drekk’hul hissed. “It’s a gnome.”
“I’m a gnome, the name is Jaleal.”
Talon smiled at the gnome’s bravery. He was armed with a spear, but he wasn’t pointing it at Talon. He held it with the butt firm on the floor. In his other hand he held some sort of blue stone.
“The stone! Take it!” Drekk’hul commanded.
Jaleal held the stone out. The blue gem began to glow and hum. A ray of cyan light shot out and struck the blade of Talon’s sword.
“Kill him! KILL HIM!”
Talon knew he was being attacked.
Drekk’hul released a purple mist that engulfed the entire room. The gnome began to cough and sputter. Talon smiled when he saw the gnome’s form. The small creature glowed bright violet amidst the purple and black fog that the sword had created. The stone sent out tentacles of light, but the fog held them at bay.
“Kill him now!” Drekk’hul shouted within Talon’s mind.
The assassin lunged forward. He swung his sword down, but the gnome leapt for the stairs. Talon caught only air as the gnome bounded down to the main floor.
Talon rushed down the stairs, keeping an eye on the small gnome. Jaleal ran out into the middle of the room as Talon followed him out of the stairway. The sword screamed at him to kill the gnome and take the stone. Talon launched from the stairs out into the room. He raised his sword high overhead to bring it down in a heavy chop.
Jaleal stopped and turned. He winked at Talon and then threw his spear directly at the assassin.
The silvery weapon flew straight and fast. Talon barely managed to bring his sword down in time to deflect it. The spear rang out like a bell as Drekk’hul connected with it and sent it spinning toward a far wall.
A moment later, Talon crashed to the ground and rolled to absorb the impact. The gnome was there in an instant, swinging an old chair. Talon ducked his head and lifted his arms. The moldy, weathered chair broke over him, spewing bits of wood all around him.
A small foot came in with more force than Talon had anticipated, striking him in the chest. Talon leapt up to his feet and lashed out with his own savage kick. The gnome ducked and rolled out of the way. Jaleal then jumped to his feet and ran for the spear.
Talon reached out and grabbed another old chair. He flung it across the room. The gnome saw it just in time to leap back out of the way. Talon rushed in with blinding speed, slicing and cutting the air around the gnome as the small warrior furiously ducked and dodged each swing.
“Is that the best you can do?” Jaleal taunted.
Talon feinted left, and then reversed and came in with a right round-house kick just as Jaleal moved to dodge the anticipated sword strike. The kick caught the gnome in the chest and sent him flying across the room.
Talon then moved to retrieve the spear. He picked it up and then launched it at the gnome.
Jaleal managed to get back to his feet. He leapt up into the air, spinning over the spear and plucking it out of the air. He spun it around and rushed toward Talon with a mighty cry of anger.
The assassin smiled. It had been a long time since anyone had given him this kind of challenge.
He rushed in,
sword out to the right.
They both lashed out with their weapons. Steel and mithril rang out, echoing off the walls as showers of sparks flew. Drekk’hul hissed and shouted, releasing its bloodlust into Talon while the gnome spun and swung his spear in perfect rhythm with Talon. Every one of Talon’s strike was blocked, and every thrust the gnome sent was also defeated by Talon. The two were locked in a dead heat.
They danced around the room, neither able to score a hit on the other. Then, Drekk’hul released another cloud of purple and black mist. The gnome coughed and sputtered, giving Talon a momentary opening. Being the expert warrior he was, he took the shot. His sword lashed out straight and true. Then, a fraction of a second before the blade bit into the gnome, some other creature jumped between them. Jaleal was knocked to the side and the sword drank the blood of some other foe.
Talon stepped back as the mithril spear came blazingly fast, striking through the fog and nearly catching him several times. The assassin was backed against the stairs before he could launch a coherent counter attack. He drove the gnome back and then lashed out with a left front kick. The gnome ducked under it and answered with a stab at Talon’s left leg. Talon had expected that. He snapped his leg back and clipped the gnome’s arm with his sword.
Jaleal shouted out and leapt back before launching the spear through the air. This time, Talon caught the spear. He dropped it behind himself, knowing that without it the gnome was as good as dead. He kept his eyes on the glowing outline of the gnome, and then glanced to the other form. The bright violet outline revealed a small animal.
“Get out!” Drekk’hul commanded.
“I have them beat,” Talon mentally told the sword.
“Get out now!”
The purple mist dissipated instantly and the sword begged Talon to run.
When the cloud was gone, Talon saw that it had been a brown rabbit that had jumped between him and Jaleal. He narrowed his eyes on the creature and shook his head. “This can’t be,” he whispered aloud.
The rabbit turned and stood on its hind legs. “Oh yes it can,” the rabbit said.
Talon’s eyes shot wide. The rabbit extended its two front legs and waved them like hands. Between them a spark of yellow flame was born. The flame grew, crackling and hissing as it increased in size.
“Sorry it had to end this way,” the rabbit said. “Jahre had high hopes for you.”
Talon looked back to the gnome, who was now standing in the doorway and blocking his retreat. Jaleal held out his hand. A flash of silver streaked through the air and in an instant, the gnome was again holding his spear.
“They have magic, you fool! Run!”
Talon leapt back onto the stairs and ran for the upper room.
A cloud of smoke enveloped the hare and a horrible screech filled the room. The sound grew louder and shriller. A fireball blasted into the wall ahead of Talon, forcing him to leap back down a few stairs. The assassin quickly regrouped and scrambled back to the door and glanced back down to the rabbit. The horrid screech halted as quickly as it began and the smoke was gone. Talon’s jaw dropped. A second gnome now stood in place of the hare.
He was only two feet tall, stout, with a long, white beard. His clothes were rough, forest green and made of wool and embellished with silk strips of black. His boots were made of fine leather, and a golden chain hung around his neck that matched a bracelet of golden links on his right arm. A trail of blood ran down the gnome’s right leg. It was the smile that unnerved the assassin.
“’Fraid I am not going to be staying for supper,” the short gnome announced. He wrinkled his brow underneath his pointy red hat and gathered another fireball in his hands.
This time the fireball didn’t stop growing. Talon barely caught sight of the two gnomes running out the front door before the fireball grew so large that it covered half of the main room. Soon it filled the doorway and was rising high to fill the entire room. Talon was stunned. There was no way he could make it through the large wall of fire and escape, he knew. The fire was growing by the second, and the heat was becoming unbearable. The assassin knew he had only one chance to escape the magical fire. Talon sprinted up to the upper room and slammed the door shut behind him. Thunderous booms erupted as bolts of lightning shot out from under the door as the growing ball of fire crashed into the wall. One of the bolts exploded through the door behind him, shattering the wood and knocking him to the floor.
The roar of the fire and the crash of lightning bolts urged him back to his feet. Talon bolted to the window of the tower and looked down.
“Not an easy fall,” he muttered as he looked down fifty feet and saw only a dirt and stone path below. The trees to the side were too far away to jump to. Talon would never make it that far. As he stood there, contemplating his escape, fire leapt out from the doorway at the base of the tower and surrounded the outside of the tower as if it knew its prey was about to escape.
The assassin cursed under his breath and looked all around the room. Talon turned about and looked up at the ceiling and noticed a small trap door that he had not seen before. He presumed that it led to the roof. Just then a large bolt of lightning crashed through the floor just feet from where he stood. The light was blindingly bright as the bolt went straight through the ceiling and out into the sky. Talon would have to move quick if he wished to avoid becoming a charbroiled skeleton.
Quickly he positioned the bureau under the trap door and up he went. He scrambled atop the bureau and forced the hatch open. To his dismay, it didn’t lead to the roof, it was an attic space. Talon glanced down and saw flames building in the upper room of the tower. Streaks of lightning shot across, slamming into the stone and crashing. He grabbed the rim of the opening above him and quickly pulled himself up and through. Frantically tossing bins of old knick-knacks and papers aside, looking for anything of use, he finally found an open box full of rusted tools. Poking out from around several of the tools Talon noticed a dusty coil of rope. He grabbed it and fastened it to the sturdiest beam he could find and then he ran to the edge where the lightning had burst through to the sky. The hole wasn’t big enough for him to fit through, so he kicked at the wood panel near the edge of the tower. With each kick he could hear wood cracking as the panel gave way. Another bolt of lightning shot up next to him, exploding everything in its path as it soared into the sky. Talon’s hair stood on end. This was way too close for his comfort. He gave up kicking at the roof and scurried through the opening that the last bolt of lightning had made. The charred wood crumbled under his grip, but the wood held firmly enough that he could wriggle himself out onto the exterior of the tower.
Talon pulled the rope through the hole after him until it was taught. He jerked on it as hard as he could to make sure that the beam he had fastened the other end to would not come loose. Another bolt rumbled and exploded through the roof. This time it was farther away from him, but that didn’t settle his nerves any. The crackling was growing louder and the very stones of the tower were starting to groan and crack under the assault of the magical fire. Talon gripped the rope as tightly as he could and began his descent. He raced down the side of the tower, while the fire from below crept up, ever growing. As he neared the rising flames on the outside of the tower he was forced to leap away from the side of the tower or be consumed. He squared his feet against the stone and pushed away with all his might. He let go of the rope and reached out, hoping to grasp a branch of a tree to stop his fall as he was still about fifteen feet above the ground. His jump had not been strong enough. He was beginning to fall, and he had not cleared the fire below yet. The orange and red flames licked up from the fire, crackling with silver streaks of energy.
Just as Talon resigned himself to his fate, a portion of the tower wall erupted in a tremendous explosion. Strands of lightning burst through the opening like a hundred hungry snakes. The stones from the wall shot out and slammed hard into Talon’s body. The bare skin on his arms and neck sizzled and the hairs on his arms melted from the heat
of the blast and the temperature of the stone as it pressed into him. He landed a few feet away from the inferno, tumbling on the ground with the stones from the wall. As he came to a stop, he clenched his jaw in pain, but then he smiled as he realized that the force of the explosion had pushed him out of the clutches of death. He glanced back to the blazing tower and then slowly began to laugh.
He sprang to his feet and bounded off into the forest as fast as his battered body would take him. The pain was still there, throbbing, burning, and piercing all of his extremities, but he didn’t care. He was alive. He clutched at his side with his left hand as he half ran and half hopped through the forest. His chest burned and his stomach ached from the impact with the stones, but it was better than being burned alive. When he came to a depression in the ground behind a large, sturdy oak tree he dove down to shield himself from the fire. His laughter started to subside as the pain washed over him and his adrenaline faded.
A few short moments later a large rumble shook the ground and then a bright white light illuminated the area as flames and lightning burst through the tower. Even safe in the depression, Talon had to shield his eyes from the bright radiance of the blast. Stones and other debris crashed through the forest all around him. He could hear the cracking and shattered of branches, followed by the heavy sound of stones slamming into the dirt. The assassin forced his eyes open and crawled as close to the side of the depression as he could. At that moment a large, jagged stone embedded itself into the dirt where his feet had just been. Then he looked up just in time to see a wooden shaft drive into the massive oak. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a chair leg. He shook his head in amazement.
Then all was silent. There was no hissing of burning branches or tree trunks. There was no crashing of debris. The crackle of the fire was gone, and there were no more booming lightning bolts. Talon sighed in relief and poked his head up to look around.