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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a great story from Elgarion, entitled
Trapped Between Bone and a Dark Place
A Memoir shared by Elbyon, The Ranger of Kahli
Background music by Smartsound

With the skeletons of Ravensmoor closing in upon me, I had no choice. Kahli. Certainly the rumors of peril arising from this land could not be so true, and most assuredly, could not compare to my impending doom by skeletal hand. Holding my panicked breath as if plunging into frigid waters, I ducked into the darkened canyon, descending through twists and turns akin to a maze. Even the undead dared not to follow. What have I done?

But ahead, a glimmer of light brought me hope. Approaching, there be three disheveled merchants, forlorn, all but emaciated, and with only a paltry amount of supplies for trade. An odd hum permeated the night air, deep, nearly imperceptible. I could feel the emanation within my lungs, inflicting somewhat labored breath. The source of this mind numbing vibration, I was uncertain nor did I afford much attention to its point of origin. For before me, stood three greater oddities. Survivors of the perils of Kahli.

“Traveler! Come, quickly, to the light of our fire! The night here… it becomes too dark. Do not become lost in that madness ahead.” A short pause of thoughtfulness provoked a question, “Are, are they gone? The walking bones? Can we finally leave?” implored the raggedy banker, long since away from her comforts and riches.

The second merchant mumbled despairingly, “No. Our traveler friend here has refreshed the guard. Bringing more undead to the canyon’s entrance. We are still trapped. Trapped between most certain death and most certain madness. This gateway between two wicked worlds is our home. But, I apologize… come by the fire and warm yourself. Do not venture further until the light of day, if you even dare to do so at the sun’s rise.”

As I was contemplating acceptance and after an uncomfortably long pause, “I cannot bear this much longer,” the third merchant whimpered, adorned more in filth than clothing. I gazed sadly upon the meager amount of wares strewn about his feet, magical in nature, components so dry a mere breeze would bring them to dust. “Aye… it has been too long. Months. A year? The vermin here are all that sustain us. At the brightest light of noon, one of us only then will dare to fetch water ahead, but the drawer of the shortest straw returns quickly. The ruins of Old Kahli are ghostly. Ghastly. The dragon’s bones emanate strongly with Artenius’ Sorrow.”

The three merchants then resumed sitting positions by the fire, returning to their nightly routine of hushed whispers and roasted rabbit. “At least our visitor brings fresh stories if not fresh rations? What is your tale, oh traveler? Might you sing words of enheartening legend for our beleaguered souls?”

Smiling softly, I attempted to dismiss worry and accepted their kind invitation of refuge, albeit foreboding. As my tale began, the legend of Kahli grew. For my words became a part of Kahli’s story, echoing softly in the canyon and into the distant peaks. With a centuries long hunger for new song and rhyme, Kahli devoured my tale as it might, one day, my being.

In time, could Kahli be as it was so many centuries ago? Alive and splendid with art and beauty? Could my tale be the first of many new tales to grace this land? Or is this canyon my new home? These merchants, my new brethren? Am I now trapped between worlds, never to see the light again except on my day to fetch the water? I think not. Tomorrow, I will journey forth, and make claim to my courage and perhaps even to these lands. I will face the dangers ahead, surefooted, strong of mind, arrow nocked! I shall not linger and wither away as these fools! Tomorrow, the mysteries of Kahli shall be revealed to me! A ranger, trapped within a mere canyon, indeed!

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a further instalment of this wonderful story from Elgarion, entitled
The Tavern Respite
Background music “Tavern Song” by Ome the Bard

Chapter 4, “The Doomsayers”
The merchant’s wagon stopped in front of Bear Tavern, letting its passenger, Elgarion De’Kahli, climb down onto the dirt road. Elgarion looked to the drover with a kind smile and stated, “Thank you, sir. Your kindness is immeasurable. I hope to repay you o–” Elgarion was interrupted by the crack of the drover’s whip above the heads of the draft horses, which were quick to lumber forward at their master’s command. “Eh, if ye weren’t so withered, I’d a dropped you at the gates. Best ye not wander so far, old man. Next ye meet someone less hospitable.”
Elgarion watched in dismay as the wagon bounced away at a surprising pace; the wood and metal seemed to jostle rudely to him. As he turned to the tavern, soreness overcame the sorcerer. So many miles upon the road from Ardoris, and he felt all of them in his aching arse. Slinging the sack of books he had gathered upon this week’s journey over his shoulder, the survivor of Kahli hobbled up the staircase and into the main common room to Bear Tavern. The room was warm, and already prepared for the upcoming eve’s patrons. A fire crackled to his right, which garnered the interest of his weary and chilled bones. Plopping the books onto the floor at a corner, Elgarion approached the hearth.
To his pleasant surprise, there by the fire, Stryker Sparhawk had already began to savor his evening with a fine ale. Having only escaped the limbo of the Void some several weeks prior, Elgarion initially distrusted most he had met. That is… until finding refuge in PaxLair. Stryker was one of the first to offer friendship to Elgarion, and the old man took the gesture willingly. So many years he spent trapped in incoherent misery. His mind craved interaction and answers, and as time passed, Elgarion began to realize Stryker also was searching for something. Smiling, Elgarion, dust covered and exhausted from his venture, sat upon a pillow beside his friend.
Balec joined the two almost as soon as Elgarion had arrived, and the festivities of recounting the tales of this week’s journeys commenced. The proprietor jibed on occasion, teasing Elgarion for his soreness when the groaning sorcerer complained of bumpy roads and potholes. Of note, this day, Balec Fares deCani sat amongst them. Not as their proprietor, but as a companion. Elgarion had even fetched the man a beer, to show a kindness and appreciation for the service Balec had always been so dutiful to provide.
As the evening waned, more arrived. Most were familiar to Elgarion, and he was happy to have their company yet again. Others were new to him, such as a man that goes by the name of Night Fury. Kind. A good heart, Elgarion had thought. High borne, surely, for his dress and manner were exemplary. Another, by the name of Thurisaz Sheol was polite in greeting, a good listener, and well attentive to the conversations of others. Again, Kazyn Phoenixfyre had taken refuge from the cold night air for an ale before retiring. Kazyn brings with him a presence to the room. I suspect highly, that this individual is well respected by many. An elf… one that seems to have bested the hardships which weigh heavily upon others of his race. And just as the fire was diminishing, two others arrived last minute to offer good tidings. Jack Knyfe and Ravicus Domdred. Neither took time for ale nor hardly a word. Just to see them stop in, showed there to be a comfort in routine common to all.
Near an hour they spoke of the news of the land, then one by one, each went about their way. Some to their homes. Some to their steeds to journey into the night. And one, to his chambers above. There, Elgarion sat, as was the norm upon the eve of his return each week. Quill, ink and parchment laid before him, and as an archivist, he scribed his recounting of events.
Stryker searches for “White Hart”, as I do for Kahli. I do not believe this coincidence that our fates follow similar paths. I intend, in my studies, to search for mention of this “White Hart” as well. And by chance, if he will share my road, I will welcome his company.
Balec, he sat amongst us today. Duties called him into the wilds to combat the elves. And to my dismay but pleasant surprise? The man offered his sword arm to my cause and my search. With Stryker, could the three of us reach every corner of these lands without fear of ambush? Alone, I walk only the most travelled of roads. Together? We could take to the mountains. There, I know… Kahli is hidden.
Again mention of the Doomsayers was made. This time, from my lips. I inquired if there were sightings. There were none. I suspect reports of this threat might be exaggerated. Perhaps my mind is better spent with worry about undead or elves.
I made mention of my impending appointment with the High Priestess of Chaos, Lady Amber Raine. Her offer of aid to my research nears fruition, and I grow worried over the propriety of the encounter. Others, to include deCani, suggested better attire, which I hope to acquire before said meeting. But in the least, they put my mind to ease that the High Priestess was of a kind sort, and I needn’t worry about any ceremonial considerations in her address. Already, I have acquired many volumes to study in preparation for this rendezvous. I hope that I will be adequately prepared.
The elf, Kazyn Phoenixfyre, made offer of his family’s library in Port Phoenix. I most assuredly must travel there per his invitation. I’d be a fool to turn down an offer of aid, and one of this magnitude doubly should not go…
Elgarion sighed in frustration. He spoke with almost a chuckle, “Just upon my last sentence… it would seem Chaos demands I take rest.” With stiff movements and occasional moans of pain, Elgarion dressed for bed, then slid in amongst the sheets. In only seconds, tired soul drifted away. His dreams this night returned him to the road. Upon a wagon he travelled. With each toss and turn in his slumber, another hole was struck by wagon wheel, and even in dream, his arse took more bruising.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius,with a further instalment of this wonderful story from Elgarion, entitled
The Tavern Respite
Background music “Tavern Song” by Ome the Bard

Chapter 3, “The Two Companions”
After a long week of arduous travel and an amazing evening of adventure, Elgarion returned to his chambers above the common room of Bear Tavern, kindly offered to him by Balec, the absent proprietor. The note Balec had left him was thoughtful, and Elgarion made certain the basket was well utilized for the ale he and his friends had imbibed that eve. The mere notion that Balec would have the forethought to think of him, caused Elgarion to ponder and to become certain. The old sorcerer made a mental note–if Balec had his best interests in mind, this refugee from Kahli would pay in kind. Somehow, and soon, Elgarion would reward Balec for his generosity and commitment to fine service. Setttling himself, Elgarion sat at his desk, and began to write in his journal, recounting the lessons and peculiarities of the day’s happenings.

When I had returned to Bear Tavern that evening, already inside was a man with whom I had become recently familiar, Stryker Sparhawk. Stryker was engaged in dance with a charming female, whose lithe movements caused me some embarrassment Her unseemly motions were befuddling to me, and alas, (as any gentleman would) I averted my eyes and sat upon a stool at the ornamental oaken bar, instead admiring the wooden creation likely crafted by the careful hand of a fine artisan. She departed, her name I do not recall. But then Stryker and I accounted of our week’s journeys in stride, as if meeting every seven days had become the norm.

Shortly after, another arrived. Blake Blackstone, the dwarf. He strode in and quickly sat to my left. It was good to be amongst friends. We drank the fine brew of Bear Tavern, leaving coppers and gold in the basket as Balec had instructed, and told tales, most of which, I now struggle to remember.

Balec had made mention that recording the conversations of his patrons had left some… rather uncomfortable. So now I attempt to record well after our encounters and am likely to forget much of what transpired. All for the sake of propriety.

Blake Blackstone mentioned a man whom I must most definitely seek. A historian, of sorts. A rare profession, and rarer yet to find one bearing talent for that calling. I hope to make his acquaintance. Enderandrew. A most unusual name. And also one, unforgettable. Certainly he must know of the populaces still in this world which might have existed from before The Fall. He most certainly, can help this lost soul.

Again, the Doomsayers. The Outlanders. Stryker and Blake both spoke with worry. Neither had encountered a Doomsayer, but I did learn, that Outlanders… many of the very people I have met, to include Blake and Stryker, consider themselves as such. They even stated I was one. Certainly, I played along, but why do they believe this? It seems the Outlanders are common and apparently accepted. The peoples of this world are so different from before. I have much to learn. And as Stryker and Blake suggest, I must seek an elf by the name of Bowen. For he holds the key to these Doomsayers. If I were mistaken to be an Outlander by friends, would these Doomsayers make similar assumption? My explorations might become unnecessarily… challenging, if so.

As if our topics had not delved into enough gloom, I broached the subject of The Undead. Upon my first meet with these fine folk, they had expressed much concern over the Undead which plagued the wilds. Now, they made mention of a Spirit Speaker which enticed an apparition to speak. “Malice” was the word it had said. I assumed it was a place, and Stryker thought specifically, a dungeon. Catacombs are home to many of the unliving. Perhaps our next encounter, I might coax some of the brave souls in Bear Tavern to speak more of “Malice”. Imagine what histories I might uncover amidst the treasures of the entombed. With companions, perhaps I might even journey to such a place.

And, lastly. Highiron. The city belonging to an organization known as the Tantalus, if I recall the dwarf’s words correctly. On a whim to show us his home, Blake summoned such magic to transport us there. I did not know that such sorcery existed in today’s world, but this spell — I must learn it. I can’t even begin to imagine how my search for Kahli could be hastened if I possessed such power. Alas, the journey proved uneventful. Highiron is a grand city, with a unified people. I met another there, their planner, Harry. The city’s beauty was a testament to his devotion. But as quick as we had arrived, the tour was cut short by night fall, and to PaxLair I wished to return. Blake stayed and I returned with Stryker, also possessing such magics of transport. Perplexing. I am truly awed by the powers of these… Outlanders.

Before I retired, I looked across the common room. Empty. Candles waned. I had hoped to see the one called, Amber. She had made such an impression upon this old weary man, last we met. I suspect her library to reveal many answers to the riddles which toy with my perceptions. Perhaps soon, I can enlist her aid. Thus far, PaxLair has offered me sanctuary. The people of PaxLair have shown me friendship. And I suspect this individual can render much aid to my cause.

Now, in my chambers, I prepare for another night of torment. I know what the darkness will bring to my dreams. The limbo, my prison for so many years, will take me again. At least as I slumber, I will return to my people, even if only as a conjuration of my haunted mind. My place is with them, and to that end, I will not stop until I find them. And free them. I take some solace, that in some way, I will return to them tonight.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius,with a further instalment of this wonderful story from Elgarion, entitled

The Tavern Respite

Background music “Tavern Song” by Ome the Bard

Chapter 2 – Return to Bear Tavern

Elgarion shuffled his way down the darkened hall to his chambers above the common room of Bear Tavern, an establishment which twice now has brought him the comfort of a fine ale and friendly folk. The door opened with a squeal, which comforted him to know unannounced guests would likely be heard. Setting his sack of books and scrolls upon the desk, he quickly cast aside his boots and sat with intent upon the desk’s chair, pulling out his journal again with quill and ink.

Balec had just warned him that some of the patrons were not taking kindly to Elgarion’s scrivenings, consisting of their names, their stories and even sketches of their personages. “Bah… how indeed will I remember all that is said? Though, the man does make a point.” He stated to the air in the room. Certainly a proprietor of such an establishment had learned, through the years, what his patrons prefer. Elgarion decided to rethink how he would document the happenings of Bear Tavern, or in the least, try his best not to offend those most secretive. Recollecting the past nights discussions, the venerable sorcerer spent another hour before succumbing to sleep, recounting this evening’s tales and news of lands abroad.

They spoke of the horrors of starvation after The Fall, and the drunkard even spoke as if he was there, during that time. Could these merely have been the imaginations brought on by ale? Many spoke of these stories, however. The dwarf, called Blake by those present, said there was a place, The Bluffs, which harbors deep caverns beneath. Caverns which housed the starving masses after the cataclysm. I suspect, strongly, that if these catacombs are littered with the dead of those lost during the Fall, likely, their most precious belongings were lost within. Diaries accounting of these horrid times are likely to be found. Perhaps even survivors from Kahli hid within the labyrinth. I must find these tunnels, for amongst the remains of the fallen, the fate of Kahli might be revealed.

Again, the drunkard spoke… almost in riddles. A grimoire of ancient origin. If I can speak to this man away from prying ear and watchful eye, perhaps he will reveal more about the nature of this text. I will introduce myself to him next we meet. And perhaps, I can get a few words from him before he loses his wit from drink.

The one called Kazyn Phoenixfyre… he has knowledge of an ancient city which bears a name most familiar. Could it be that Trinsic existed before the Fall? Could I know this city? If he holds texts which detail the origins of such a place, surely there could be mention of Kahli. And only… I can only dream this to be true, but if Kazyn knows the location of Trinsic, and I can learn of Kahli’s relative position from it? At last I might have found a way to Kahli. If I am so lucky. The history of Trinsic must run deep. A tale of Tel’Anor Arator, The Phoenix Egg, seemingly speaks much of its greatness. A city which apparently took its insignia from that same runic symbol. I will certainly pick the brain of this Kazyn, a man seeming most receptive to conversations of times forgotten.

And again, the dwarf spoke. Daedalus. Weeping Seven. Cryptic words for a confused soul, such as I. Next we meet, when words become sparse and uncomfortable silence ensues, be assured, I will ask questions of these. The answers I seek could lie in any tale or news from abroad. I must not discount any possibilities.

The lady. They called her Amber. She overheard the ramblings of my weary lips from a weary mind. I perhaps embarrassed myself with such bold blatherings of my quest for knowledge. But alas, she took a kindness upon me and offered a most valuable and generous gift, an invitation to view her extensive library. I was confounded by surprise and possibly a little flustered from the wine. I most certainly will take up her most gracious offer and somehow repay her in kind. The Book of the High Priestess. It will be the first I ask to see. Clergy, often granted divinations by the gods, chronicle well the histories of each era. I doubt not that this libram might hold valuable knowledge. But from what era? I will soon know. And with Amber’s assistance with translations, my work will go quickly.

Elgarion De’Kahli turned the journal back several pages, stopping for a moment upon each. The sketch of the tavern from this evening, the sketch from the week prior reminded him of other conversations which he had nearly forgotten. Hastily, he jotted them down, his penmanship suffering as his weariness grew. His notes from before, he read them again, aloud to himself. “Nothing… I asked… nothing,” the old man grumbled to himself. All the notes from the week prior, the questions he intended to ask were never broached. Now, the list had lengthened. So… so many questions. No answers. The start of so many tales. Whispers of places unfamiliar. The undead. Piles of books unread. Elgarion sighed deeply, then closed his journal and capped the ink. After wiping the quill clean and dousing the candle, he set his studies aside for the evening and turned to the bed, lying down upon the feather mattress. Again, staring into the darkness of his chamber, he quickly slipped into sleep. The Void had claimed him again, and this dream would not bring answers. It only brought fear.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a great story from Elgarion, entitled

The Tavern Respite

Background music “Tavern Song” by Ome the Bard.

Chapter 1 – To Paxlair, to Bear Tavern

Elgarion De’Kahli opened the door to his recently acquired room at Bear Tavern. The accommodations looked promising as he cast the brightness of his candle into the dark and quaintly furnished chamber. He spared only moments to prepare for bed. Exhaustion from yet another day of travel plus the Welcome Brew, Balec’s monthly special, had both taken their toll on the middle-aged man, who’s whitened beard was still damp from ale. Laying his journal upon the nightstand beside the candle, Elgarion quickly changed to night clothes, washed his face in the basin, and dropped into the bed as if struck by an arrow.
The old sorceror groaned, face down into his pillow, the muffled words barely audible. “Too old” he complained.
Sighing to himself, he turned to his back, pulled the journal open, and looked over his notes from the evening spent in the main hall of this fine establishment.
A sketch accompanies the entries. Elgarion, quite the artist, depicted the main hall of Bear Tavern in vivid detail–the various patrons as well as the proprietor, Balec deCani. On the side of the sketch, Elgarion drew every crest or symbol he noticed, most with no notes beside them. One symbol was labelled as “Bear Tavern”.
“The one called Gabriel made mention of Outlanders from Earth. Also of the Avatars. We must speak more on this subject. Avatars… I have much to learn about their doings.”
“There is an anti-outlander movement, which seems to trouble many. The people in this establishment do not seem to burden themselves with these prejudices, yet I cannot be certain. I must learn more of the outlanders and of the reasons behind this negative sentiment towards them. It seems several of the patrons were knowledgeable of this movement. The outlanders themselves might harbor much information for my research.”
“Albeit I was only introduced to a few, Balec, Gabriel and Stryker, I took careful note of all names spoken while eavesdropping. Best I can tell, the following individuals were in attendance:
Balec deCani
Royalsexy
Sir EternalKnight
Kazyn Phoenixfire
Aegon Targaryen
Stryker Sparhawk
Winfield
Gabriel Nightshadow
Kazuto Kirigaya
KnoWitts
Wind Silvermoon
Tari Silimsure
GoldenWing Okhan
Shallan Stormblessed
Robert Blackwood
Blake Blackstone.
These people were most welcoming, and I must continue to press them for information about these foreign lands.”
“A nobleman, called Winfield by other patrons, made mention of a Town Crier… in the morn, I will seek out the crier and learn all that he knows of this town and the nearby lands.”
“Murmurs of undead spread from table to table seconds after Gabriel broached the subject. I must learn more of these undead. Are necromancers about, or are these old incantations? Is travel too dangerous?Who can destroy these undead? How long have these brave people endured such hardships? I will take great caution in my travels henceforth. I fear I’ve been far to foolhardy in my wanderings. Fortune had been on my side, it would seem.”
“Balec, Stryker and Gabriel too an interest in the map I carry. They ask, how did I acquire it? How foolish I was to lie. I have lost these good people’s trust, i fear. But if they knew the truth? I wager I would lose much more. Perhaps they can show me the inaccuracies of my map, if they bear the knowledge. I MUST find it. The land is so different, reshaped by the Fall. The cities, towns, unfamiliar. Every village I pass, a mystery to me. There must be something that was unchanged. Once I have that… I will have a point of reference to begin my journey.”
“Again, Gabriel mentions something intriguing. Obsidians… unknown to me but seemingly very known to them. If I ask, it would appear odd I did not know of them. I must seek a library… brush up on my history. They’ll think me insane if ramble of my… situation.”
Elgarion yawned deeply and closed his journal. Setting it on the nightstand, he leaned towards the candle and returned the inn room to darkness. A few folk still remained downstairs, their laughter muffled through the floorboards. As his breath softened, his mind began to slip into dream. Even there, he walked the wilds in search of his home. From wooded trail to dried river bed he trekked. Mountainside to muck filled bogs. Even in sleep, rest would not come. His dream was his obsession. And his obsession was one of repentance and self-sacrifice. Elgarion would find his lost people. He would free them from the binding limbo which imprisons them. He would return them to their home, to Kahli.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a wonderful story from Blaquerogue, entitled

“Warsworn”

This is a multi-voice production, and features the talents of
Blaquerogue, as Torniquet
Lord Baldrith, as Farmer Johnson and the Orc
Solstar, as Father Desmond
Gabriel Nightshadow, as Scout #1 and the mercenary
Sol Stormlin, as Jason and Billy
Asclepius as the narrator and the voice of God
Background music by Smartsound

Chapter 1 – Torniquet – a Twist of Faith

“My name is Torniquet – I was born a “Warsworn”. My father was one of the greatest of his time. We come in many forms, and I happen to be a “Warsworn Hospitlar”, a Cleric of the highest degree. The king would always call upon my Father to lead his battles for most were won with him in the lead. My mother passed away at a young age, so my father decided decided that it would be best for me, to be put into the local Monastery St. Agnes, since he was rarely home, and always out fighting the battles that raged around our kingdom during the Orc wars. I would be well taken care of by the monks and priests and educated in our religion, and the monastery would get a fine donation from time to time.
I’d love it when my father would come to visit he would teach me how to speak Orcish and how to speak Drow, those two languages in particular he insisted I learn. He also taught me the art of combat, and would tell me stories of the wars he’d been in! Tactic after tactic! Sometimes he would bring me special items from across the land. One day he brought me a war hammer and a golden broach with a rubies in them, telling me that there was something special about both (I wouldn’t find out until just recently how special the war hammer was!) but it was the finest craftsmanship I had ever seen. Definitely made by the high dwarves far to the North. They crafted the finest of wares there! Hence the name High Dwarves.
That very day Father Desmond tried to take it from me after my father left! I swung that hammer out of anger and shattered his leg! Needless to say, I spent a few days in the lower cells, I didn’t understand because I didn’t really hit him that hard with it? The next time my father came to town, of course the priests pulled me out of the cell a day before and did healing rituals on my arms and legs to make the bruises disappear that they had given me over the weeks prior, but they never tried to take that hammer again!
Money has a way of forgiving wrongdoings I suppose? They were happy to take the large donation from my father and forgive me. As I grew older I decided I wanted to become a cleric so I studied more often always making the highest scores on our tests, I’d pray to St. Cuthbert every night that my father would be spared in war. Upon one of his visits at age 16 he arrived with a small army of Warsworn and told me today would be the day I become “Warsworn Hospitlar” They took me to a secluded area far from the monastery where there was a small army of Warsworn already there waiting. They put me through many rigorous tests of strength, intelligence and faith; I was finally branded “Warsworn Hospitlar!” Unfortunately, that would be the last time I saw my father! for he he did not show up on our regular weekly visit, instead a “War Sworn” Messenger and Priest of the king showed up. That is when I heard the news my father would not be coming to visit me anymore, he had been slain in battle. Now an orphan, the door slammed shut, I was stripped of my robes and put into the servant quarters, destined to serve the priests for the rest of my life (or so I thought at the time).
Over my years of servitude I learned that money is what made the difference here, no matter how dirty or bloody it may have been. I watched the priests cast spells on people that didn’t need them, just to make the priests look good. I watched money being exchanged for lives; you can’t stay in a powerful position if you’re dead! These priests ran everything outside of the city of Waterdown, and Father Desmond was the center of it, he commanded his thugs the crooked priests, to lay waste to a band of innocent travelers one time, just because they were going to report him to Lord Turner. Pay offs were made to cover up the disappearances of innocent people, and mercenaries were hired to do the job! This is not what being a servant to St. Cuthbert was about! It was time for change I had to get out of this place as soon as possible, but there was one Priest I had to pay a visit to first, Father Desmond!”

It was late into the night and most of the monks and priests were asleep except for one.. Father Desmond was in one of his secretive meetings. Torniquet watched a mercenary come into the church quiet as the wind. As he and Father Desmond moved into the office, he heard the click of the lock. “Well now father I suppose you were happy with my last job since I was called back for another”? With a merciless smile across his face the mercenary moved closer to Father Desmond’s desk. “Ah yes I see your as confidant as ever McLaughlin, but yes I was rather pleased, especially how you made it look like it was a bandit kill from some goblins and Orcs, disgusting creatures they are! The king seems to believe the Orcs have started attacking again, so yes job well done, but I have another job I need your expertise in. There is a family that lives down the road from here they seem to have.. how should we say this? Decided that it would be in their best interest to report the monks and church here, because we decided that it was a waste of our healing spells to cure their youngest son who is a mongrel and a bit slow in the head who would be of no use in the future for anything but a lowly servant! A waste of our energies! I want this family killed and their property burned to the ground, oh yes…make it look like another Orc attack! The towns people will flock to us for prayers and when there are no more attacks they will think we have cured this land, and give us contributions and mostly respect! Here’s half of the money now and you will receive the other half after the job is done”. “ Oh, and one more thing McLaughlin, tell the mother and father right before you take their lives that Father Desmond sends his regards!”
At that moment the huge oak door exploded into wooden shards one of them piercing the right eye of McLaughlin, the orifice was filled with blood before he had time to react. The last thing he saw was the top of his head meeting the bottom of his chin as Tourniquet’s hammer stuck true. The mercenary lay motionless on the floor in a pool of blood. As Desmond backed into the corner consumed with terror, Torniquet threw the desk to the side and grabbed him by his robes with his left hand and pointed the hammer glistening with blood and grey matter at his face. Desmond’s voice cracked ”oh please don’t kill me Torniquet, I will give you anything you desire, forgive me for what I’ve done, gems, gold, look there’s lots of it here you can have it all please forgive an old soul who has made mistakes in the past, I will change I promise you, just forgive me please.”? Without a blink the blood splattered face of Torniquet replied “Your forgiveness lies on the head of this hammer Priest!, your pleas lie upon deaf ears, and maybe your god will forgive you? But I will not!” Take one last look at me! I am Torniquet the Hospitaler! The hammer impaling the priest’s face made a cracking and squishing sound. Torniquet gathered his belongings and headed out of the monastery stopping only once at the altar. “I hope you can forgive me , I have heard your calling and I now understand what needs to be done.
As he headed out the front gate of the towering Monastery two things were on his mind, the location of the bandit camp just outside of the family’s farm, and what great adventures awaited him. His adventures would be slightly delayed but only slightly!

Chapter 2 – Vengeance has a name.

About an hour out of town he sighted the first fires of the bandit’s encampment cleverly disguised as a traveler’s camp, he even noticed the lady of the Johnston farm bringing extra bread to those poor travelers. To the right just across the road, he noticed the farm children getting ready for bed. Little did the Johnston’s know that other plans had been laid for them this night!
Torniquet saw the two scouts in the distance hidden but placed perfectly for the beginning of the ambush, watching closely for the last candle to be blown out in the house for the night. “Hmm, very nicely hidden these two are I wonder how I should go about this?” Torniquet thought. The first bandit would be closest to him so that would be the first victim!
As Bandalore was perched he heard someone coming down the road whistling a tune vaguely familiar from childhood, he looked up and straightened himself out brushing dirt from his pants.“Hail fine citizen of Cartador! Beautiful night is it not?” Torniquet said. Taken by surprise Bandalore didn’t know how to reply, “Well met priest I am quite busy at the moment so if you could move along that would be much appreciated.” “Oh now there is nothing more important than a good blessing!” Torniquet smiled. “The Gods told me there was a man in dire need of a good `ole blessing here! And be sure that the Gods know these things well!
“No, no priest they might be mistaken this time! Good night to you then!” Tourniquet’s smile slowly went to a frown! He grabbed the surprised man into a headlock covering his mouth so no screams would come forth (for they would have if they could). The bandit looked into Tourniquet’s eyes and slowly faded into unconsciousness, the huge fore arm crushing him like a giant constrictor, With his ribs cracking ever so quietly, he heard one last thing “ My title is “Hospitaler, not Priest!” and his life was sucked out.
Torniquet laid him down softly crossing his arms over his chest. He made a sign of the gods and asked them to forgive this soul, and continued along the road whistling his child hood tune. As he approached the second scout he could tell this was a poor kid straight from the streets no older than ten winters, nervous as a small puppy, “this would be the one I will have mercy upon, it is not too late for him to change” Torniquet thought.
“Son come here!” the boy jumped five feet, “Yes sir, and how are you priest?” “I am fine this night boy, come here let me talk to you” the boy ran up to him, “yes sir?” Torniquet looked him over and could tell he really needed some food and probably a place to stay, and a bath, this poor child was a sight for sore eyes. “What are you doing here?”
The boy replied “ I wasn’t going to do anything but just watch, they were going to give me two silver to keep watch but I wouldn’t have to do anything else, please don’t kill me!” Boy if I wanted you dead you would be trying to explain to your gods that you have no clue of how you got there! I want you to do the right thing, for that I will spare your life tonight, and I will give you these two gold coins so you may take refuge in an Inn. Hopefully you will get an honest job! For tomorrow this area will be soaked with blood and I do not wish your blood, to mix with the blood that I spill here tonight!
What is your name boy?” Apparently shocked at the conversation the boy looked up and shook off the terror “I am Jason and I’m not a killer like these men I promise! With a smile Torniquet said” I believe you son, Torniquet is my name, tell them tomorrow when you can that I spared your life this night, so that you may walk a righteous path and that it was too late for the poor souls over there! (pointing his hammer in the direction of the camp) now here’s your two gold I promised, well here take five, you must promise me to be kind and take care of the weak no matter what! I’m trusting you young Jason for if you don’t I promise we will meet again and then you will be able to explain to your gods how you arrived at their doorstep!” with that the boy ran off down the road yelling “you can trust me sir, I mean Hospitaler!” A grin spread over Tourniquet’s face he turned towards the bandit camp.

The moon cast its soft glow over the bandit camp; the activity was growing as they were preparing for the ambush. As Torniquet scouted the area he noticed one of the grunts barking commands to the others. He would be the target this night, others would fall in the wake of the slaughter or retreat to the woods, and either was fine for Torniquet. As he walked down to the bandit camp he got dirty looks from the others, but they dared not make a move without the command of the relatively large Orc that stood in the middle of the camp for fear that the ruthless leader would crush them!
The orc looked at Torniquet as he made his approach and grunted, a few commands to his initial entourage to step back but to keep an eye on this human. Torniquet knew this for he had learned the orc language in the monastery, since most attacks were from these creatures.
“A wise decision Orc” said Torniquet fluently in Orc. The Orc was surprised that this human knew his language. “I come with a message from McLaughlin, whom I believe commands you and your band of “beggars”. There will be no attack tonight. Your half of the gold will be waiting for you in the “good fathers” office at the monastery. I suggest you not make him wait he is a very impatient man, and he talked of not giving you any gold for your services because you’re a disgusting abomination, oh yeah and you “stink”, I believe is how he put it, and I have to say I do agree with him”!
The orc stepped forward and hissed “watch your tongue cleric or I will have to cut it from your mouth”! Clearly agitated with that comment the Orc grabbed one of the nearest mercenaries by the throat and crushed it! The others started to move back and away from the Orc not wanting to be the next outlet for his aggression. He threw the lifeless body to the ground and began approaching Torniquet. Torniquet knew this would be a long night…….
The giant Orc started into a charge, Torniquet readied his hammer, when the two hit there was a loud thump as the bodies met! Torniquet was knocked back about 3 feet and landed on his rump, righting himself from the fall he was up on one knee, and sprung forth with great strength, shield leading the charge, the hammer hit its target! The orc fell over dazed by the hit, but he too was back up on his feet in a flash! The Orc swung his battle axe, but only to have it deflected to the left then down, Torniquet immediately followed through with his hammer smashing the orc in his ribs, a definite crack was heard!
The orc was holding his side as he yelled at the other bandits to attack but none came forward instead they backed away; the orc was on his own. He swung his axe up and around to the side, but again metal met metal with a loud crashing sound! Tourniquet’s hammer swung straight down on the orc’s shoulder clearly dislocating his defensive arm, as the Orc rolled off to the left Torniquet followed mirroring him perfectly shield thrown out to the orc’s face and stopping his motion instantly!
Again the orc swung his axe but this time to the side leaving a bright red flow of blood on Tourniquet’s leg. The orc had clipped him but it was just a flesh wound! Torniquet fell to the left and rolled with the fall out of the deadly axe’s range! Immediately Torniquet rolled back then forward coming up under the orc’s chin, hammer leading the way! It caught the orc square in the chin and knocked him off his feet, he landed with a thump! The orc did not move, his tusk jammed up through his face.. he was dead!
Torniquet turned to face the rest of the bandits, not a peep came from the crowd of onlookers, then a smile came across their faces as they turned around and starting packing practically tripping over each other as they moved out and away from the farm house, and especially as far as they could from this cleric that just destroyed the one orc that they feared so much! Before dawn the camp was empty except for the body of an orc that lay in a pool of blood, steam rising in the morning cold.
Torniquet decided to take some bandages from one of the chests that lay around the camp and wrapped his wound and he concentrated on his healing spells. As he looked around the camp he noticed on the Orc’s right arm a red scarf tied around it a single emblem on it, a black crescent moon, he would take this and put it in his back pack. He found an empty tent and laid out his bedroll, to get a few hours of sleep until morning came.
================================================================
The next morning as Torniquet started to move up the path he noticed one onlooker at the top of the path, it was the man that owned the farm. As Torniquet approached him he said, “Well met Hospitaler!” Confused by the right titling, Torniquet looked at him, “The boy Jason I believe his name was, told us of the plight of these so called “beggars” last night after you had finished talking to him, so I took me family to the wood line just in case things didn’t work out, not that I didn’t trust you would take care of this problem, but I had to protect my family I hope you understand I mean no disrespect.”
Torniquet replied “none taken my friend, I knew the danger you and your family was in long before I arrived last night, unfortunately I recently resided under Father Desmond and I overheard about all this, our gods do not allow this kind of tyranny, people should be good to one another and take care of each other, not the blasphemy that Father Desmond spoke of, and as of right now you are free of his grasp and you and your family may get on with daily life. Without the fear that you have had in the past, Father Desmond now pleads with his god for forgiveness, for he is no longer with us!” You and your family are safe!”
The farmer replied “We are forever in your debt! We do not have much but we can offer you a meal this morning, my wife is preparing breakfast as we speak, if there is anything you ask of us it will be given “Hospitler”! Torniquet shook his head you do not owe me anything, but there is one thing I do ask of you, please have an open heart for weary travelers and treat them with the kindness you are treating me, my name is Torniquet and I am happy to have served you and my god today, and I am especially hungry, so breakfast sounds great! I would be happy to join you at your table! The smell coming from your kitchen is quite enticing!” with that they headed off to Farmer Johnson’s house.

The food was excellent the best Torniquet had ever tasted! Upon finishing they sat around talking. Mr. Johnson said “I can’t help but think I know you? Was your father the king’s knight a few years back a “War Sworn? What was his name? Sir Treadwell, yes that’s it Sir Treadwell was he your father? “Torniquet felt a lump in his throat “you, you knew my father?” Torniquet was all ears now!
“Yes son I knew him, he had stopped by here a couple of times on the way back to the King’s, always for breakfast” (ha-ha, “he loved the food and we loved the company, he even brought us some medicines from faraway places in hopes that he could cure my son even if those medicines were outlawed! Your father was a great man young Treadwell, carry his name with honor!
If you noticed, me boy didn’t talk very much this morning, he has been mute and deaf for 12 years and nothing seems to cure him, we went to the monastery many times asking for help but they always turned their backs on us saying it was a waste of their time” (Torniquet remembered this conversation in the Father’s office) so we haven’t been able to get any help thus far, but we do love our boy, he works hard on the farm and cares for his little sister, we will stop at nothing to try and get him some help sometimes he murmurs words but, they just don’t sound right and when we call him, sometimes he doesn’t even notice, we don’t know what to do? We want to help him but we cannot find any help.” a tear ran down Mr. Johnson’s face, and his wife went to the kitchen and started crying.
Torniquet asked Mr. Johnson” to go retrieve the boy and let him take a look at him”. Mr. Johnson jumped up and ran out to the crop field where the boy was working. Meanwhile, Torniquet sat at the table with the sound of Mrs. Johnson crying in the background and the younger girl trying to comfort her.

He prayed as hard as he could to St. Cuthbert “Please give me the power to help this child, he has needed this help for a long time, he will grow to be strong and take care of his family as his father does, I ask this one favor of you to help me, help him”. A voice resonated in his head deep and caring “this boy is not dumb or mute, he is only deaf I have granted you power to cure this ‘tis the simplest of the powers you have” and with that the words faded off.
Somewhat surprised by the voice and the tingling feeling inside, Torniquet knew that his Deity was alive and well, there was no other explanation for it, none that he could think of!
The father and son returned to the table and the boy looked up at Torniquet, a gentle smile on his face, he tried to say something that sounded like a greeting but Torniquet couldn’t make it out, Torniquet returned the smile and said “come here young man let me take a look at you” he turned the boy around and snapped his fingers, no response, he turned him around again to face him and snapped his fingers, the boy copied him but barely, Torniquet pulled his holy book out of the back pack and recited some words, laid his hand across the boys forehead and then waited to see what happened.

Immediately the boy looked out the window and mocked the sound of a cow, he was excited, he yelled out mom! The crying stopped in the kitchen and His mother and his sister came running, looking at him with astonishment his mom uttered one word “Billy”. Billy smiled and hugged his mother and sister in unison,” Ye..Ye..Yes mom!” His mother immediately burst into tears of joy the boy was cured!

Mr. Johnson jumped out of his seat “by the gods the boy speaks and hears! How did you do that? What did you do? Torniquet replied “Faith, this is the work of a good god! He has smiled upon you and yours this day embrace it and never lose faith! In times of darkness there is always light! Never forget this and all will be well for you!” with that the Farmer hugged Torniquet and said “our home is always open to you and your friends may you be blessed in your travels” Torniquet brushed the boys head and gave a slight group hug to his mother and sister, and said “I must be off now for I need to report the corruption that plagues our land with these priests and their mercenaries! May you and your family be blessed and may your crops be fruitful, I will stop by every now and then to have a good breakfast!” with that he walked out of the house and started up the road.

His travel was uneventful except when he passed by the Monastery where he stopped for a moment to take in the site and witnessed the the looting, bandits and priests fighting! He thought to stop, but decided he would let fate take its course here and continued up the road leaving the monastery far behind.

It was about midday when he arrived at the part of the road that led through the forest. He knew very well that ambushes were frequent here, with the concealment of the woods. He took a deep breath and continued, the sun gave way to shadows of trees that towered over the road like giant sentinels ever so vigilant, as if they knew the dangers of this road far better than anyone.

As he went deeper into the wood the open fields disappeared behind the curtain of trees. He heard a scream and birds took flight away from the danger, but Torniquet went forward toward it. As he approached a clearing he could see about five or six bandits attacking a poor traveler and his family, One guard was already down for the count. He charged in exploding the first bandits head with a swing of his hammer, the bandit never saw it coming, and it was a quick death!
The other five turned toward the explosion and charged! Torniquet shouldered the first, lifting him up and propelling him over his left shoulder, he landed with a thud, The air knocked out of him! The second came charging in, the Hospitlar side stepping him as he went by, the third would be the receiver of the hammers head! Torniquet hit him square in the chest knocking him back 5 feet and to the ground gasping for breath, little did the bandit know he was drowning in his own blood as lungs filled with fluid!
The fourth came forward slashing like a wild man with his long sword! A quick turn of the hammer had the blade flying through the woods that lined the road, lost in the foliage. Torniquet brought his hammer down with a fierce force, the last bandit crippling under the weight of the blow, a dent in the side of his head, he would not be getting back up again! Torniquet turned just in time to catch a swing of a long sword from the first bandit that took flight; apparently, he had his breath back.
The sword met the hammer with sparks flying off the blade as metal ignited metal! The sword came down, then back up, and around, blocked this time by a shield, that opened up a perfect shot that would later prove fatal for this bandit! As the stricken bandit crumpled to the ground the wheezing commenced! There were two more bandits left, sweat and dirt covered Tourniquet’s face, the sweat burning his eyes, he was now facing two bandits at once! He wiped the sweat from his head and, charging in with three giant steps, he leaped up catching one bandit square in his chest with his foot, and forearming the other! His foot never left the chest and all his weight landed on this bandit! He dropped the hammer downward and crushed the bandit’s face, with a loud cracking sound!
While Tourniquet’s foot still firmly placed on the bandit’s chest, The other bandit went flying back! As the last bandit recovered from the forearm, he came charging at Torniquet! The bandit’s face was met by a steel shield crushing his face, it exploded in a shower of red mist! The bandit hit the ground unconscious! The fight was over. The travelers thanked him for being there when most needed, and offered a payment which Torniquet did not take. He told the family to head down the road to the farm house where they could get some rest and food, He said to tell the farmer that “The Hospitaler” sent them, and they would be taken care of, and the travelers were gone in the distance as fast as they could go.

Torniquet grabbed two of the dead bandits at a time and dragged them to the side of the road followed shortly by the other two. He laid them down and crossed their arms over their chests and said a prayer. He walked over to the last bandit, who was now gaining consciousness and poured some water over his face to wake him up. When the bandit saw Torniquet standing over him, he was terrified! Torniquet leaned down towards him and said “Today your god or gods have watched over you, I want you to tell your master and the priests he beds with, that judgment comes their way! Now get out of here before you join your friends!” The bandit jumped up and ran as fast as he could up the path faster than a rodent when the lights are turned on!

Chapter 3 – City Of Waterdown

The city of Waterdown is best known for its port. Trades from all over the known worlds come and go through Waterdown. It is known for its exotic trade anything you can think of comes through here, the prices are higher for exotic goods but well worth it!
A lot of black market items also come and go through this port; needless to say there is definitely a Thieves’ Guild somewhere in this city well hidden from prying eyes. Much of the shops dotted through the city are actually fronts for shady businesses, guards are paid off to look the other way on many accounts, around the docks.
Away from the docks the law is upheld to the best of the city’s ability, crimes are relatively minor and infractions of law carry heavy monetary fines. Any crimes above minor get you thrown in jail from one month to several years; the punishment usually fits the crime here. They believe that hard work turns a criminal into a working man or woman eventually, and most of the city was built by this type of labor, and the approach has proved successful.
In the middle of the city is the Bazaar, There are booths set up daily for trade and sale. From common folk to exotic folk all races come here to trade and make a living honestly. There is a two gold piece a day rental for booths in the city, and most of the merchants are fair when pricing their goods. There are weapon dealers from exotic to fair, basic adventuring gear dealers, and magical dealers, as well as a healer’s hut lining the streets of the Bazaar, it goes for three blocks in any direction, and there are many food and drink dealers as well. Anything a party would need for adventuring can be found here!
Guards patrol this area heavily, always on the lookout for troublemakers, and are heavily armed as well. They travel in teams of three walking up and down the Bazaar; they carry fine swords or maces and are armored to the teeth. If something breaks out in the street, you can count on at least six guards to respond at once. They are paid well by the city and are quickly let go if they do not hold up the law here. Being a guard is one of the well-paid jobs here and they normally live in luxury. It is almost impossible to bribe one of the guards here, as the offence carries a heavy fine, and always jail time.
The City is run by Lord Turner, a very stern but fair man who leaves no room for error. He was a captain in The Kings Army, when the Orc wars were going on, that practically devastated the land around Waterdown; he is a “War Sworn” by Cartador the King himself! A “War Sworn” is signified by the “blazing sword” marked above the heart on the armor or a burning shield on the right side of the neck, it is the highest award for valor that can ever be given. It is said that Lord Turner’s army pushed the hordes of Orc’s back into the ocean on the very place that marks the port area; he was awarded this City on that day! The Orcs, from beyond “The Sea of Unknown”, in Karrig and Karrag which make up the Orc lands of Kohmesh, never tried to overtake this land again, at least not from this area. The name Turner is used on tongues of Orc parents to discipline their children!
King Cartador rules over these lands from his kingdom far to the north named Turion in the Plaines, he has guards that walk the roads from Turion to Waterdown keeping the peace, most of whom are “War Sworn” and are small armies. You will eventually come upon one of their encampments while travelling the roads. Their encampment consist of Hospitlers,Warriors, and Priests as well as mobile merchants. There you can find healing and basic food all of which are given free to those of good intent. Waterdown is one of the largest cities in the Kingdoms of Cartador and well-defended.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the conclusion of this wonderful story from Andartianna, entitled
Odd Tidings From The Bear Tavern: A Court House
Background music by Smartsound

Chapter 6, “Cats, Clues, Corp Por”
Upon entering K’rul, Sara and Dr. Zazeriz began quickly preparing themselves for battle. The Kobolds within are highly aggressive and ready for attack. Sara quickly moved to the front to defend Dr. Zazeriz, and they slowly moved into the caverns. Upon entering, they travelled to the left and found mechanized cats and Kobolds, which fiercely attacked them. They quickly opened up a hatch to a lower level, and found themselves in a deeper level of K’rul. Sara swung her sword at some watchers, which seemed to be ignoring commands from the Oracle, and dispatched them. The next room was filled with a purple mist that confused anyone that walked through it. Moving to the next room, they were met with a torrent of steam which burned through layers of their clothing.

Dr. Zazeriz quickly cast heal spells as they made their way to the right. Inside the next room, an electrical machine targeted people giving damage and focus loss per second. Moving on, Sara and Dr. Zazeriz found themselves in a hall with poisonous gas, which choked anyone who walked through it. Sara quickly leveled an automated assassin and a kobold brawler who were blocking their path.

Dr. Zazeriz quickly looked around the tunnels for any clues that might lead them to the location of the factories of the clockwork dragon. Upon entering the next room, they discovered it was a giant electrical room that blocked focus and tried to block their path. They turned left and then left again and entered a large room of very hot steam, which once again burned their clothing. Sara quickly dispatched the mechanical ravens which were hiding in the room. Another turn to the right brought them in a red mist room, the gas of which seemed to be poisonous. Each of the gasses, they figured out, could be turned off with valves scattered throughout the K’rul hallways.

They turned right and then right again, and entered a hall filled with Kobold Grenadiers and Kobold Brawlers. After dispatching them, they came up to a higher level and found a mine cart track which the Kobolds were probably using for transporting mining equipment and other supplies. As they made their way into an open space, they found beta monkeys standing around. After the last one died, they stood still for a moment to look around. Sara and Dr. Zazeriz could hear odd machine sounds coming from the left. They turned to the left to see what it was. There was a wide hallway and door with blood all over the floor and walls. It was apparent that something had died repeatedly trying to get out of the room.

Inside, the room was filled with spikes that would go up and down, which were triggered randomly by Kobolds who were in the room above. As they entered the room, they spotted a mage standing over a pile of dead Shock Monkey Gold bodies. Shock Monkey Gold are fearsome mechanical monsters that stun anyone who comes near them.

Sara waved at the mage standing in the center of the room. “Hail, Corp Por. How fare thee this fine day?” Sara asked.

“I am very well, thank you. These Kobolds continuously send Shock Monkey Gold constructs at me to test their machines.” Corp Por said.

“Have you seen if they construct clockwork dragons here?” Sara asked.

“I believe they do. I have seen a room with a clockwork dragon deep in the bowels of K’rul. If you go back and take a right and head deeper into the mines, you’ll be able to see the room below the clockwork construction zone.” Corp Por said.

“Thanks, Corp Por. We’ll see you around.” Sara said.

Chapter 7  “Scouting, Sara, Selected.”
Sara and Dr. Zazeriz began scouting the rest of K’rul. They found the location where the clockwork dragons were being constructed, and also a cavern filled with a Kobold city. After they had thoroughly mapped the entirety of K’rul, they headed out and made a camp on a hill overlooking Blood Bay.

“Thank you for helping me map the area of K’rul. We will have to come back on some other occasions and see if we can deconstruct some of the Kobold’s technology.” Sara said.

“Deconstruct, huh? You mean deconstruct by hitting it with a sword?” Dr. Zazeriz asked with a chuckle.

“That does seem like the best way to deconstruct Kobold technology. Now that we know K’rul, we can come back later.” Sara said.

“Alright, I’m going to teleport back to Beran’s Reach. Hopefully, they have come to a decision.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

“I will stay here and scout more of Blood Bay.” Sara said.

“Take care of yourself, Sara. If you need me, you know how to find me.” Dr. Zazeriz said, then teleported back to Beran’s Reach.

Dr. Zazeriz walked into the sleeping quarters provided by the courthouse, and just as she was going to sit down and rest after the three-day journey, a knock on the door made her get back up on her feet. Dr. Zazeriz walked back to the door and opened it up. Astor Ceberus was standing outside.

“Greetings, Governor Zazeriz. I am happy to say that the reviewers have made their decision.” Astor Ceberus said.

“Oh? Do tell.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

“Congratulations! You have been selected to be a magistrate for the courthouse of Beran’s Reach. You now have access to storage and space within the courthouse that will help you perform your duties as a magistrate. We also will provide you with the robes of a magistrate.” Astor Ceberus said.

“Thank you, Astor. I look forward to helping the court of Beran’s Reach adjudicate the laws of Novia.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the continuation of this wonderful story from Andartianna, entitled
Odd Tidings From The Bear Tavern: A Court House
Background music by Smartsound

Chapter 4, “Office, Overhead, Otherwise.”
Dr. Zazeriz got up and left the office where the interviews had occurred and walked back downstairs. Clarke was waiting behind the desk. “Good day, Governor Zazeriz. I hope the interview process has been pleasant for you so far.” said Clarke.

“It was an interesting interview. I was told there are rooms where I can stay while waiting for the first round of interviews to complete.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

“Yes, Governor. There are rooms available in two row houses nearby the court. I will put them on your map so that you may find them more easily. As soon as I get any news, I will let you know immediately.” Clarke said.

“Thank you, Clarke. I will go and rest for now.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Dr. Zazeriz exited the courthouse at Beran’s Reach and headed to the row houses that Clarke had indicated. She entered the row house on the left and found the fires blazing hot inside of it. It was a simple enough place; sparsely decorated but appropriate for visiting dignitaries. Dr. Zazeriz climbed to the roof of the row house and found some outside seating. She sat down by a blazing fireplace, and Falkes flew in and landed from overhead.

“Hello, Falkes. I hope you are having a pleasant day.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Falkes cooed affectionately.

“Nothing suspicious I hope.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Falkes shook his head indicating that there were no issues, then looked over to the fireplace.

“Go ahead. You can sit in the fireplace.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Falkes screeched approvingly and hopped into the fireplace and sat on the burning logs. Dr. Zazeriz watched as the snow fell late into the evening.

After two days of waiting, Clarke knocked on Dr. Zazeriz’ door and said, “Governor Zazeriz. I have a message for you from the magistrate reviewers.”

Dr. Zazeriz opened the door. “Thank you, Clarke. I will take that message from you.”

Clarke handed Dr. Zazeriz the message and then walked away after saying goodbye. Dr. Zazeriz unrolled the message and began reading it.

“Governor Andartianna Zazeriz,

We are honored to tell you that you have been selected to proceed with the second round of interviews. We have scheduled you to meet the reviewers at 3 p.m. today. If you are unable to attend at that time, please let us know. Otherwise, we will see you then.
Signed
Astor Cerberus, Clerk of the Courthouse of Beran’s Reach”

Chapter 5, “Wrong, Want, Where.”
The day, while waiting for the reviewers to come to a decision, went slowly. Dr. Zazeriz was beginning to think that it would take more than a few days to complete their work. A loud knock on the door got Dr. Zazeriz’ attention. She went to the door to see who was there. Dr. Zazeriz was expecting to see one of the clerks standing outside of the door, but when the door opened, Sara Dreygon was standing outside.

“Sara? Is something wrong?” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

“What? Do you think if I show up something has to be wrong?” Sara Dreygon asked.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s always wrong, but you certainly like to chase things that want to eat us.” Dr. Zazeriz replied laughing.

“I won’t argue that point with you. I do, however, need your help.” Sara Dreygon said.

“Alright. How can I assist you?” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

“You know that clockwork dragon that attacked our cities? I think I found where they are constructed. It’s a place in Blood Bay called K’rul.” Sara Dreygon said.

“Ah, yes. The ship to Blood Bay is nearby. Let me leave a note for Astor telling him I am leaving to assist you while waiting for the reviewers’ answers.” Dr. Zazeriz said. She quickly wrote a note for Astor, and then followed Sara out of Beran’s Reach.

“Do you know a quick route through Blood Bay to K’rul?” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

“Yes. We take the ship to Smuggler’s Hold. The landing point is close to the entrance of K’rul.” Sara said.

“Is this going to be a scouting mission or are you looking for something in particular.” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

“It’s going to be more of a scouting mission. I hope to find out what the Kobolds are doing in K’rul and if they are constructing clockwork dragons there.” Sara said.

“Alright. I’ll throw on my heavy armor. I’m sure we are going to be taking a lot of hits.” Dr. Zazeriz said.
“The ship to Blood Bay is just to the east of Beran’s Reach. At the docks, you can instruct the ship captain to take you to Smuggler’s Hold.” Sara said
Once in Smuggler’s Hold, Sara and Dr. Zazeriz headed southwest into some sand hills. There are torches leading to the path to K’rul, which ends up being north along the ridgeline. There are many gases, quicksand, and volcanoes dumping lava that can impede a traveler’s walk to K’rul.
“You also have to be on the lookout for outlanders that want to attack you, Sara said. If you continue north by northwest, you will end up in a lava field. Carefully walk around it and you will see a giant mechanized building, which marks the entrance to the Kobold’s lair of K’rul.”

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a wonderful story from Andartianna, entitled
Odd Tidings From The Bear Tavern: A Court House
Background music by Smartsound

Chapter 1, “Familiar, Fairly, Falkes.”

Beer and Banter. Bears they be.
A peaceful world for all to see.
A courthouse grand for laws to teach.
Erected now in Beran’s Reach.
They the Magisters of lawful sight
Call out the failures with voice of might.
Sentence villains for justice please
For law is fact based, not endless pleas.

A loud knock on the door to Dr. Zazeriz’ bed chambers shook her awake out of a deep sleep. Dr. Zazeriz yawned for a moment. Who could possibly be knocking at this hour of the day? The Pub of Extraordinary Thoughts was always open to allow scholars to read and drink, but Dr. Zazeriz’ private chambers were always off limits.

Dr. Zazeriz yawned once more and said, “Who is it?”

“Begging your pardon, governor, but a notice from the Courthouse of Beran’s Reach has arrived for you. I thought it might be important so I brought it right up.” Said Glenda the bar keep who kept the pub running while Dr. Zazeriz was away.

“Very good, Glenda. Please place it on my powder table. I will come and take a look.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

“Yes, Governor.” Said Glenda, who placed the notice on Dr. Zazeriz’ powder table then walked down to the bar.

Dr. Zazeriz slowly got up out of bed and walked out to her dressing room. The cold stone floor felt oddly refreshing on her feet as she walked. She enjoyed carpets on the floor as well, but there was something special about feeling the smooth natural stone on her feet. Dr. Zazeriz opened up her wardrobe and began pulling on her clothes. Depending on the message, she might have to change them again, but for now she put on her normal daily wear clothes.

Dr. Zazeriz walked over to her powder table and picked up the letter Glenda had left for her. It was addressed simply with Governor Andartianna Zazeriz on the cover. The paper was, however, very ornate with a golden bear paw seal on the back. Dr. Zazeriz had visited Beran’s Reach on many occasions while traveling, so she was familiar with the people of that city. She opened the letter and began to read it.

“Most Honorable Governor Andartianna Zazeriz,

You have been nominated by the votes of your peers to become a magistrate of the Courthouse of Beran’s Reach. If you accept this nomination, we invite you to visit Beran’s Reach to begin the confirmation hearings where a group of distinguished leaders from across Novia will evaluate the core of who you are and your abilities to judge fairly and impartially as a magistrate. Please address replies to the Clerk of the Courthouse of Beran’s Reach.
Signed
Astor Cerberus
Clerk of the Courthouse of Beran’s Reach”

Dr. Zazeriz rolled up the note after reading it once more through. It occurred to her that it was very peculiar that a courthouse had been constructed in Beran’s Reach. She had visited the courthouse on a few occasions while traveling the area. What was interesting was that the entire city of Beran’s Reach had been built around the comradery of the Bear Tavern, which is at the heart of the city. That the tavern had spawned a courthouse would take some research for historical context for Dr. Zazeriz to understand its creation.

Dr. Zazeriz wrote an acceptance letter, then waved her arm and summoned Falkes. The phoenix stared up at Dr. Zazeriz with reproachful eyes.

“Don’t look at me with complaining eyes. I sealed the letter in a fireproof container.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Falkes squawked loudly and looked at the floor.

“Yes, I know it’s far and covered with snow. I’m sure you can fly over the mountains north and catch a down draft into Beran’s Reach. I will head out shortly thereafter and meet you in the city.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Falkes bowed his head, and Dr. Zazeriz handed the fireproof letter container to his outstretched talon. Falkes then shuffled down the hall and flew out a door.

Chapter 2, “Courthouse, Chuckled, Clarke.”

A short while after Falkes had left, Dr. Zazeriz gathered the needed supplies for the short trek to the mountain fortress of Beran’s Reach. She was eager to receive more information about the process of selecting magistrates and the creation of a more unified law system across Novia. Dr. Zazeriz could have waited for a reply from the Court to be returned before leaving for Beran’s Reach, but since she preferred to be out traveling rather than ruminating within her city’s walls, she left Verat Chaos and headed north.

Beran’s Reach was not a long journey from Verat Chaos. A winding path north of Central Brittany led up to the mountain stronghold. Halfway to the city, Falkes flew down and landed next to Dr. Zazeriz. He held out a talon with a scroll held in it.

“Excellent work, Falkes. That was faster than even I thought you could make it. Would you like a Fire Field to relax in while I read the letter?” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

Falkes cooed happily and flew over to a nearby rock. Dr. Zazeriz cast Fire Field, and the circle of fire surrounded Falkes, who then relaxed and nestled down to the rock for a nap. Dr. Zazeriz opened up the fire proof scroll case and read the enclosed letter.

“Most Honorable Governor Andartianna Zazeriz,

We are pleased that you have accepted the nomination to the courthouse at Beran’s Reach. At your earliest convenience you may travel to Beran’s Reach and we can begin the process.
Signed
Astor Cerberus, Clerk of the Courthouse of Beran’s Reach”

“Thank you, Falkes. It looks like I’ll be heading on my way. You may follow if inclined or return to Verat Chaos.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Falkes opened one eye, then closed it and went back to warming himself by the fire.

“Or you can just sit at the Fire Field until it goes out.” Dr. Zazeriz chuckled.

Dr. Zazeriz continued her trek north. After about ten minutes, Falkes came into view overhead circling in the distance. As Dr. Zazeriz climbed the hills outside of Beran’s Reach, she could see that Falkes was waiting on the walls of the city. Dr. Zazeriz finished climbing the hill and entered the gates of Beran’s Reach. White snow was falling around, which seemed to continuously blanket the city in frost. As she neared the Bear Tavern, Dr. Zazeriz saw Clarke waiting by the entrance.

“Greetings, Clarke. I don’t normally see you outside the courthouse. Are you still clerking for the court?” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

“Governor Zazeriz. You are exactly the person I was looking to see.” Clarke said.

“Oh? Do tell.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

“I was asked by Astor Cerberus to wait for your arrival and direct you to your interview.” Clarke said.

“Thank you, Clarke. I appreciate you waiting for me.” Dr. Zazeriz replied.

“Your meeting will be held in the courthouse on the second floor in meeting room A, which is on the left side. The people who will be reviewing you will be wearing masks to conceal their identities so that the judgment will be more impartial.” Clarke said.

“Thank you, Clarke. Is there any other information I need to know?” Dr. Zazeriz said.

“I do not believe so. I will walk you to the courthouse and then Astor Cerberus will take you into the room. He is not one of the people grading you. However, he is the clerk who is overseeing the proceedings.” Clarke said.

“Excellent. Lead the way, Clarke.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Clark led the way out of the central city off to the north to where the courthouse was located. He did not talk, but simply walked in silence. When they got to the front of the courthouse, Clarke directed Dr. Zazeriz to enter the building as he would be attending to other nominees who were travelling to the city as well. Dr. Zazeriz thanked Clarke and entered the courthouse.

Chapter 3, “Inviting, Immediately, Intimidating. “

Dr. Zazeriz entered the courthouse and, as always, found the entrance hall to be grand and inviting. Astor Cerberus was waiting at the front desk.

“Governor Zazeriz, welcome to the courthouse at Beran’s Reach. I am Astor Cerberus, and it is my pleasure to help with the nomination process. The counsel of nobility and leaders of Novia are waiting in the room upstairs. They will be asking you a series of questions. They will not reply directly to you, but will listen to your answers and then ask follow-up scenarios. Once this process is completed, the leaders selecting the magistrates of the courthouse of Beran’s Reach will grade you and other nominated applicants and decide who is worthy to become a magister of the courthouse of Beran’s Reach.” Astor Cerberus said.

“Thank you, Astor. Is this something we can start immediately, or do I need to wait for another applicant to complete?” Dr. Zazeriz asked.

“The reviewers are not currently with an application, so they may see you immediately if you are ready.” Astor Cerberus said.

“I am ready. Please lead the way.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Astor led Dr. Zazeriz up to the second floor. He then had her wait in the hall outside the meeting room while he went through the door into the room. Through the door Dr. Zazeriz could hear muffled voices talking to each other. She waited patiently, and in about five minutes, Astor returned to the hall.

“The reviewers are ready for you. There are several of them sitting around the room. As Clarke should have told you, their identities have been concealed so that they receive no pressure in the choice they are about to make. You’ll be asked a series of questions. There are no wrong answers, so answer as truthfully and thoughtfully as you can. When you are ready, simply walk through the door and take a seat.” Astor Cerberus said.

“Thank you, Astor.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

Dr. Zazeriz walked toward the meeting room door. She was not nervous at all. Having faced dragons and deamons, a room full of bureaucrats was not at all intimidating. The room was not particularly large. A round table was on the right side and the various leaders were in chairs around it. There was a blue chair by the fire. Dr. Zazeriz walked over to the chair and took a seat. The people around the table all turned towards her.

“Greetings, Governor Zazeriz. We have heard many wonderful things about you. We are so glad that you accepted the nomination to be considered for a position as a magistrate. We will begin this interview process by asking you some questions. If you are ready, you can begin,” one of the reviewers said.

“Thank you, and thank you to all the reviewers who are helping in this process. You may proceed with the questions.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

A woman’s voice chimed in from one of the reviewers. “We are going to begin by telling you a scenario and then asking you questions about it.

“This is the first scenario:

“It is your day to take the bench and a new case is to be heard this morning. As you are reading over the documents, you hear the door open as the claimants begin to enter the courtroom. First is the defendant, Dinsoo of the Moongate Travelers. You have heard of him as an upstanding citizen of New Britannia; always looking out for others and putting every effort in to help whenever and whomever they may, newcomer and old alike.

“Next to enter the courtroom is the plaintiff, Baron Drocis F. of Rats Nest. He is also known throughout the land, but you have heard of him in other circles for quite a different reason. He’s outspoken to the point that some see him as argumentative and taking pleasure in causing disruption.

“Reading over the case before you as you prepare to hear arguments, you have questions of legitimacy flooding your mind. The charge is as follows: Baron Drocis has charged Dinsoo with biting him in an attempt to eat him.

“As everyone rises to be sworn in you take your seat.”

One of the other reviewers then chimed in. “Now that you have heard the scenario, here are the questions we would like you to answer. How do you feel about seeing these two enter your courtroom and whom do you rule in favor of and why?”

Dr. Zazeriz thought for a moment, and then replied, “On the first question, I have no specific prejudices towards either party. Regardless of how good or bad a person seems to society as a whole, the facts of the case are the only things that matter. I would need to look for motive such as what caused the defendant to bite the plaintiff. Were there mitigating circumstances? What is the law regarding biting and eating a person? The only reason I would question legitimacy would be if an action is not against the law, does not have any evidence to support the charges, or does not have standing to sue as in a third party person who was not involved. In these cases, the defendant could move for a dismissal and I would agree. On the second question, with the limited information that has been provided, I could not rule for either party. I would need a lot more details. Being a magistrate, you can’t really assume anything. I can’t assume that biting is against the law in a specific area. It is entirely possible the parties were engaged in an open combat situation where biting would be acceptable. Likewise, the charge of cannibalism is also not illegal everywhere. There are cultures where eating dead relatives is considered an honor for both the dead and the living as they become part of each other.”

“Thank you, Governor Zazeriz, for answering our questions. We will review your answers over the next few days and, if you are selected to continue the interview process, we will summon you again. You may wait in rooms provided in Beran’s Reach.” One of the reviewers said.

“Thank you for your time. I look forward to hearing from you.” Dr. Zazeriz said.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the conclusion to this great story from Olthadir, entitled
The Darkness in the Waste
Background music by Smartsound

Chapter 2, “The Waste”
We arrived at the crater at midday – at my expressed intent. The sun was hot overhead, but it allowed us a good deal of time in the light.

The shards were scattered around a crater, floating. And there was a central cluster made up of large pieces that were much larger than myself. And they were black, very black, but still, thankfully, earthly black.

Maybe Savenroc was a dream.

Sonya got straight to work, measuring the shards, testing their density, collecting samples of the earth below. She wrote a good deal in her book. She spent the whole day and far into the night writing her observations.

The night was peaceful – thankfully. I watched the campfire light reflect dully off the floating shards. I remained a safe distance away from the crater. Far enough to see her while she worked, but far enough from the shards themselves. She worked through the night. I simply watched.

The stars wheeled overhead and nothing happened.

We didn’t talk the next day. She kept working and I grew anxious. Either something was going to come and devour us or I was truly mad. I began to wonder if I imagined the events of Savenroc forest. Did my friends even exist? Were my last few years of reclusion a lie? If nothing was happening here I began to question the validity of my memory.

I could hardly stand it. I went towards Sonya and began talking – asking questions to see if my recollection of events matched what I told her days before. She ignored me, raising a hand to hush me.

“Listen. That hum. The frequency… I’m trying to measure it.”

I spoke to her again, trying to get her to understand but she hushed me. The look in her eyes was terrible. A moment later she returned to scribbling in her book.

I grew even more anxious, feeling the low humming in my chest now as I walked around her and looked over her shoulder at what she was writing.

Lines. Waves. Scribbles.

She turned the page and scribbled on. It was nonsense. I looked for her first volume and flipped through it. She started coherently, speaking about physical measurements, harmonics, apparent weight of the shards versus how high they levitate. Then halfway through the book, scribbles.

On the fourth last page stood a testament to her madness. It was a page so full of ink it bled through to the back cover. She drew a circle hundreds if not thousands of times, creating a frightening representation of the void I saw years ago.

“You didn’t want me to come here originally,” Sonya said, standing a safe distance before me, dagger in hand. “It’s because you wanted this all for yourself. You couldn’t finish your own research, you were too afraid. So you want mine.”

I started walking backwards. She matched me, step for step.

“There is no research,” I said, turning the book towards her. “It’s only scribbles.”

“Of course it is!” She screamed, her shrill voice echoing off the shards. “I don’t want you or anyone stealing it. I have learned so much. The void is endless, unfathomable. If I can use it…” she trailed off, her eyes wild and wide, furious at my perceived betrayal. She stopped in mid step and the sun set.

Above her I saw purple lightning arc between shards. I smelled ozone and felt the cold chill wind of emptiness. It was here, I recognized it. I wasn’t mad, it was all real and unimagined. Before I could search the darkness for a sign of the void Sonya lunged at me.

I don’t carry weapons. I stopped after Savenroc. I saw no point. If I was killed by a weapon, I would find peace. Anything would be better than existing in the void. All I had was her journal to defend myself with. I moved to block her stab as I turned, giving her less of my body to hit. The sudden force of her attack propelled by the strength in her entire body overwhelmed me. I fell on my back, my head hitting the dry ground. I moved as best I could to avoid the descending blade. My eyes had sparks in them. I tasted blood in my mouth from the fall, I must have bitten my tongue. Sonya struggled on top of me attempting to wrench her dagger from her journal. I kept twisting it trying to keep the blade trapped somehow. It was the only way I could defend myself.

I am ashamed to record what happened next. I assure you, dear reader, that I was defending myself. I had no choice. As you see, I was near death, being attacked by someone gone mad.

I timed a counter push as she tried to draw the dagger from the journal, slamming the dagger’s pommel into Sonya’s face. It hit her in the mouth, cracking teeth. I pushed again, hitting bone. I pushed again and again. I pushed countless times, feeling bone, flesh and blood rain down on my hands, the journal and my face…

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I am writing this in Ardoris, safe as I ever was. I am alive, writing this months after the events I just wrote down. I killed Sonya. I crushed her skull with the blunt side of her dagger and her scribbled nonsensical journal. I still feel the blood on my hands.

You may not believe me. It was the shards. It was the void they were a part of. They turned Sonya against me, it turned her suspicious. It turned me into a murderer. Yet, as much as I know this is the truth, I am wracked with guilt. It is the only reason why I am writing this. I have killed because of the shards, because of the Obsidians and their desire to explore beyond Novia. Sonya could have lived a full beautiful life if she didn’t become curious and find me.

But what of me? I have survived two encounters with the void. I have changed because of them. What does that make me?