Kyle Aarons

The Kandric Saga

Chapters 17-18

Chapter 17

A special thank you needs to be added to this chapter, for without the help of ragtopman this chapter would still be in the works. His efforts in putting together much of the Monarch monologue section put me on the right path for this whole chapter.

Glaster

Glaster waited until Klandon's eyes shut for the night and the boy's breathing become even before he slipped out of the inn well after most of the city had gone to sleep. The evening with the boy proved something deep within the boy was broken.

The young prince was at a loss in a royal environment and was doing his utmost to fit in. Part of the boy liked the feel of power of his princely title, but another part used the position within the court to drive others away to hide how uncomfortable and out of place the boy really was. Glaster exited the inn wondering what would happen if he cast a Remember spell on the young prince. Such a spell could be dangerous though, and Glaster knew it. A Remember spell could bring back memories forgotten or taken away by a spell. Unfortunately, it could accidentally, at least in this case, give the child a false memory. Any conversation heard by the child during the casting of the spell could trigger such a false memory. Then again, so could a stray thought on the part of the caster. Glaster sucked in some cold night air into his lungs to clear his head as he looked around the basically deserted streets. He would have to consider the idea of a Remember spell when he had more time for peaceful thought.

The only people moving through the streets at this early hour were members of the town guard and the few others with odd jobs of the late night. There were a few people who made their money from the city cleaning streets, collecting garbage and keeping candles lit on major streets. Once in a while one could find merchants readying for departure at first light. Last but far from the least in number were those people the town guard worked to protect others from. It was these types Glaster sought out as he moved past taverns long since closed for the night and deeper into the poorer sections of the town.

It didn't take long for someone to see a well-dressed man staggering down the street as if he was drunk. Glaster smiled to himself as he saw the shadowy figure move in for what the hapless robber thought would be an easy mark. Glaster made no effort to seek shelter. Instead he moved with a bit of a wobble toward the middle of the street and continued to meander down the street until he spotted a dark side street and made straight for it.

The lone figure waited until he saw the drunken merchant turn down a back alley before he made his move. He rushed into the darkened area leading to a community well and stopped in confusion. The merchant had vanished. Muttering about a missed opportunity he turned only to find the man he had been stalking was now blocking standing straight and holding a machete like blade.

Glaster grinned, "Let us make this easy. Give me a little information and both of us will walk away without any blood or dirt on our clothing."

The figure glanced around looking for an easy escape only to look back up and see the person he had been following left hand glowing from magical energies. The figure sighed and flipped back his hood. "Whats ya want Mage!"

Glaster laughed despite the situation, "Don't insult me. Mages are so boring."

The Halfling muttered "Magic sucks," under his breath as he stood in silence waiting for the man in front of him to get to the point.

Glaster nodded in satisfaction; "I need some minor information. You tell me you can go, if you do not I will hurt you," Glaster paused for a moment more for effect then to let his words sink in, "And if you lie, I will hunt you down and kill you."

"I gets yer point spell thrower!"

"Good!" Glaster stated cheerfully, more to annoy the Halfling than anything. "I need to know what kinds of interesting information can be found about Everone."

"Why'd ya think me'd know something?"

"Because," Glaster's voice took on a sharp edge, "this is the gateway to the Everone Barony and your type keep their ears open. You are good; I picked you up, but only after you had started following me. I did not catch on right away or I would have simply taken you out immediately like I did the last three. It takes more than talent to get to be as skilled as you are. It takes brains."

"I'm not stupid, fer sure," the Halfling grinned at the compliment. "But there ain't much to tell."

"Give me what you have and we both walk away."

The Halfling shrugged, "Sure, I don't know what ya be looking fer, but there be quite a few groups all fighting down there. Me, fer one, tend to think the Lizards ain't the ones to worry none about. I mean, a friend of a friend tell me them lizards be holding a line and even help get food and supply wagons inta the area from the south. Me even hears of the lizards freeing prisoners of the Hobs and given em weapons and stuff."

The Halfling paused as his brow furled in thought. Suddenly he nodded, "Oh yea, another friend of a friend tells me he be seeing lots of dragon activities down south."

This was not the type of information Glaster was looking for. He had hoped to hear about what type of trade goods to equip himself with, but rumors sometimes held facts so he decided to ask a few follow-up questions, "Let me get this straight. Are you saying the Lizardmen are fighting for Everone? How good is this information?"

"It come from a friend of a friend, like me said, but I believe it cause I know the gal who come from there. She ain't no story talker. More like the gal to says nothing. If she say them lizards ain't hurting no ones but Hobs then I believes her!"

Glaster held up his hand, "I am not saying I do not believe you. What about all this dragon talk?"

The Halfling seemed to shudder, "Mister spell thrower, me don't like talking about dragons none. It be bad luck, but fer you, me'll tell ya what me know. More than one says Everone be loaded with warring dragons. I hears one man say he saw both a red and a black the same day. Another claim he sees a green and a black on the same hill. Them dragonthings be all over too! Some say red, green, and black are all over down there. One fella come through here about two week ago with a load of slave he pick up cheep down there. He tell me he sees a silver and a blue working ta help a small village from some green dragonthings! Me thinks he spend some time there and bought slave kids for next to nothing cause the place was running out of eats, but he no say so. At least right out like, he hint, but no more."

Glaster frowned deeply, "Silver and Blue Dragons will work together if really pressed, but not very often. Were these Dragonlings?"

"Nope," The Halfling shook his head fiercely, "full blown dragon, real thing! He even tell me how they look and had a couple of dragon scales of each. They be real pretty, but me no have the money. I got him paper on six of him slave kids so he give me one of each."

Glaster's eyes shot up, "Do you have them with you?"

"I ain't giving them to ya!"

Glaster waved his arms, "No, no. I just want to take a look."

The Halfling advanced yet stayed out of reach of Glaster's blade as he dug into a pouch. Finally his hand came out holding two rather large dragon scales, one silver, one blue.

Glaster took one look them whistled; "Those are definitely dragon scales!" His mind raced trying to make sense of everything he had just been told. Yet his merchant side still needed some information, "Mind if I ask you one last question?"

The Halfling quickly tucked the dragon scales back into his pouch, "Ask, ya going ta anyways!"

"True," Glaster admitted with a genuine smile, "What sorts of things have caravans been selling and bringing back other than slaves and food?"

"Eats and killing tools going down, slaves and non-coin stuff like glass, plates, them silver like trays, and even nice chairs and the like coming up. Me be hearing need fer stuff like burning oil, torches, and normal tools since all them metal shops be making killing tools, None of em be making saws, hammers, and the like no more!"

Glaster tossed down a pouch of coins he had taken off the first thief he had killed earlier, "Pleasure doing business with you, skilled denizen of the night."

The Halfling watched Glaster move away before he picked up the bag of coins with a bemused frown on his face, "He be a strange one!" he spoke aloud, "Me don't know if me should be insult like, but the money's nice!"

Kandric

Kandric looked over the cells full of kids with a bit of a smile. He was certain Glaster would be proud of him. He had used an unforeseen opportunity to start his first business venture. It had taken no investment on his part other than a black eye and a pathetically easy fight to gain control of the other kids. Now he would have a business, his business. He would be making money through his own idea. Yes, it would be at the misfortune of others. But even they would be better off in the long run. Besides, the town would not have to pay quite as much to support them.

Rylop and Londow watched over the kids as four junior guards hammered the old lock off. The key's location had long ago been forgotten. It turned out the doors was also quite difficult to unlatched. The old sliding solid bronze bar had not been oiled in decades, if not longer. The four men had to muscle the latch and then they had an even harder time with the heavy door. Finally Londow moved forward and poured oil on the three hinges and used a hammer to break loose each one.

Kandric moved in as soon as the door opened and inspected the passage. His eyes came alive with excitement as he noticed it was not just a simple passage with cells like Rylop had told him to expect. Instead there was one passage leading to the opposite side of the dungeon where the female prisoners were kept. Along the walls were over three dozen small cell doors. But there was something else, long forgotten! In the middle of the hall on the left side was a set of stairs hollowed out of the stone leading down. Londow saw Kandric's desire to see more and chuckled.

"We'll make sure this area is safe then put the kids to work cleaning it up. Once I'm sure everything be safe, we'll check and see what else we have been sitting on top of all these years."

Kandric nearly jumped up and down with eagerness, but tempered it some as he looked up at Rylop; "It might be a good idea if I was allowed to get my weapons before we explore what is down those steps."

Rylop nodded, "No argument young one. Let the guards take care of this level while we go to the school and get your gear."

Kandric watched the kids' eyes as they were ordered by the cell leaders to move into the long abandoned part of the dungeon. Each of the kids' eyes went wide as they saw bronze chains with shackles hanging off walls in every room they entered. He secretly smiled when he saw the way their noses scrunched up at the smell of the damp musty halls and long unused tiny holding cells. Even better was the look revulsion on seeing a room after room no bigger than pair small closets with a chamber pot, water bucket, a set of chains and no bed. One by one the kids realized these had been the cells of the truly unfortunate. Judging by the look on all the kids' faces, he knew almost instantly his plan would work. Most of them would eagerly hand themselves over for a few nights a week when the other option would be to sit alone in one of these dank tiny cells for days at a time.

Jamon

Sy slowed his War Steed down as he entered the Swamp Slums. The animal's breath was heavy and bordering on ragged. With a sad shake of his head, he jumped off and led the animal to a small fresh water stream. "Sorry old gal. None a us oughta ride ya so hard!" Sy shook his head sadly as he pulled off his saddle and bags. "Stay and rest girl," he glanced back knowing there were even chances on the War Steed living as to dying after such a prolonged and hard journey.

The few Swamp dwellers awake at the late hour nodded to him or backed away. Most did both. Sy shrugged. He was known here. Known as the warrior who had fixed up a hut into a house. He was a man who had skills of a carpenter and with a sword. Some of the Swamp Slum Dwellers saw him as a hero, most were envious of his abilities, and almost all feared him.

Although he liked the feeling of power the others gave him, he hated being in the dismal place. He had grown up in the slums outside of Black Rapids, a beggar begging scraps from other beggars just to stay alive. It wasn't until the age of nine, when he first started casting Autospells, before his life took an upward turn that he never looked back from. He had been noticed by the Black Rapids guards and taken in as a guard trainee. For hours a day he was taught to work on the barracks with other kids. Four long years he did nothing but learn how to hammer nails, cut wood, and in the evening read and write. Seven days a week twelve hours a day he was forced to work and study. The guards didn't allow any slack time. If he was sick he would stay in, but no matter how bad he felt, he would still have to work and read.

Those kids who couldn't were sent off to work the farms, where he later found out they only had to work five days a week and still got trained. But they all were the regular guards and Army of Black Rapids. They would never become offices in the military nor would they ever be offered slots in the Wilderness Scouts. Only those who made it in the Barracks through four straight years moved on to be taught how to command. He was one of the few who learned real combat skills under the elite Palace Guards of Black Rapids. Unfortunately, his past still haunted him. Any Slums reminded him of his early childhood. He shuttered as memories of eating worms out of the ground to quench the never-ending hunger returned. Quickly he spat a few times as the horrible taste seemed to come from memory and enter his mouth.

Not being able to stand the memories he pulled out some of his own rations and tossed them to a pair of kids digging in the mud by the swamps edge looking for anything, even dormant bugs, to eat. He smiled as they grabbed the food like someone would grab at a pile of offered gold. As he moved on he stopped and glanced back wondering if the kids were boys or girls. Slum kids all looked alike. They were way too skinny, had long unkempt hair, and wore dirty rags, which passed as clothing. After nearly a minute he turned away guessing one was a boy the other a girl.

He moved on half wondering why the kids had been out so late at night. Again thoughts of how horrible it was to be close to starvation returned. "Hunger," he muttered, "No kid sleep when he be hungry."

Finally he neared the small hut Kandric had found to use, "Jamon, Conth, One a ya two best be awake and ready ta take me gear!"

Jamon came out of the hut wiping the sleep from his eyes, "Sorry, we were all sleeping."

Sy's face twisted into a deep frown, "You be lucky ya be Kandric's boy er I'd knock yer teeth out! Who be watchin' the others and where be Captain Vondum and Kandric?"

Jamon bowed his head slightly; "Vondum left me in charge sir. He went after Kandric up in town."

Sy Glanced over the boy, "Vondum put yer scrawny butt in charge over Conth?"

Jamon nodded, "Yes sir."

"Who be watchin' them others if ya be sleepin'?"

Jamon's face blushed with embarrassment "I made Conth chain them up so I could sleep."

Sy's Frown slowly faded, "Well, I'll be! Maybe he make the good choice after all!" Quickly he stepped into the hut and used a spark Autospell to light a candle. All the boys had heard the conversation and were awake, but they couldn't move much being all chained together. Sy smiled as he noticed Porma had been kept separate; His chains had been nailed to a thick corner brace. "Not shabby, Jamon. Maybe you'll make a good lead slave one of them years!"

Porma tried to kick at Sy as the man drew near, but his efforts only caused the chains around his ankles to bite into his flesh. He winced but remained silent as the man looked down with a truly sad expression. "Boy, you best put a stops to yer foolishness. Ya done made enough enemies already. Ya ain't be needin' no more!"

"What are you gunna do to me?" Porma demanded, although his voice didn't sound anywhere near as brave as he wanted his words to show.

"I ain't doin' nothin' to ya," Sy turned to Jamon. "Make sure he don't eat er drink nothin'. He'll be goin' through enough misery as it be already."

"I know the big thug sent ya to get a potion," Porma interrupted, "He gunna try to make me drink poison er somethin'?"

Sy shook his head as he his gaze settled on the chained teen, "Son, Vondum don't ever try, he just will, and you'll be wishin' it were poison a few minutes after ya drink it. Bein' dead is far better than what you'll be goin' through."

Porma tried to match Sy's stare, but failed after only a few seconds. Defeated, he kicked lightly at the wall. "Why don't ya just force it inta me now?"

Sy shook his head, "Vondum like to do the feedin'. Besides, son, I be doin' you a favor by makin' sure yer hungry. Me bet's Vondum made it seem like he wanted ya to go hungry then changed his mind. He'll also tell them boys ta offer ya food in the morn. It be up ta you, but If'n ya be smart you'll says no."

Porma stared at the ground, "Why should I believe ya?"

Sy shrugged, "Son, what ya believe and don't be no concern of mine. But, if ya want ta find out who be more nice to slave brats ask Jamon or Conth," Sy again turned away from Porma, "Jamon, does we have any feed fer the mounts?"

Jamon nodded, "Kandric got some from the Caravan, sir."

"Excellent. Get some and run down to the stream. If'n my mount not be dead already she'll need food before she do die. And where be the keys fer the shackles?"

Jamon pointed to the door where a set of keys hung and exited the hut without any further instruction as Sy grabbed the keys. Sy tossed them to Conth, "Unchain em so y'all get a good sleep. He then looked back at Porma for a moment, "He'll have to stay chained, but take him off the wall. He'll be needin' all the rest he can get!"

Vondum

Vondum entered the jail just as Kandric was exiting with Londow and Rylop. Vondum's eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked over the men. The two guards stopped as if petrified by the man's presence.

Kandric quickly broke the sudden frosty feeling before someone over reacted. Running up to the massive Warrior Adept he wrapped his arms around the man, "Vondum!"

Vondum returned the unexpected hug and knelt. As he did so he lifted up Kandric's face so he could look at the nasty swollen and bruised eye. Hatred entered the huge man's eyes as he hissed, "Did either of these two 3;"

Kandric cut him off, "No sir! They have treated me with the utmost of respect."

"Then who?" Vondum demanded, as his hand tightened around his sword.

Rylop nervously answered, "It was the Healthman, Velert, Captain. He ordered the arrest of your scout after punching him."

"You should have killed him Kandric," Vondum seethed.

"I did not have a chance. Rylop and Londow, behind me," Kandric pointed, "came up too fast. They acted on his orders to arrest me before they found out he did not have a claim. Rylop was very nice though. He let me go to the school and prove who I was and let me stow my gear. Since then, I have worked out a business arrangement with the guards here and was going to present my case before the governor tomorrow."

Vondum bit back his fury as he ruffled Kandric's hair and nodded to the two guards as he put on an easy to see through calmed down look. His eyes, however, told of a deep dark rage building deep inside. "My thanks to both of you for taking care of one of my scouts without causing too much of an uproar."

Londow breathed a big sigh of relief as he realized he was not one of the man's targets; "He has been quite a pleasure to work with."

Kandric grinned, "I still need to get my gear and help them look over the lower passages in the dungeon."

"You have a fight with some Gnolls tomorrow my young scout," Vondum reminded Kandric, "and why didn't you heal yourself?"

Kandric shook his head; "I wanted to show the governor what Velert did without me raising a weapon or even a fist."

"What about the Gnolls?"

"I have gone much longer than one night without sleep and still had to fight. Besides, we are only talking Gnolls here," Kandric's expression and tone told all three adults he was serious, deadly serious.

Vondum was the first to break the sudden silence, "Fine, but you'll need your sword and there is a brat on the back of my steed who needs a nose fixed."

Kandric headed over to the War Steed with Vondum, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Coming to find me."

"My pleasure," Vondum smiled for the first time since finding out Kandric had gone into Slome alone, "Mind telling me what Velert ever did to you?"

"He claimed my seriously injuring a merchant kid was a class motivated attack."

Vondum's eyes narrowed. "Kandric, you could have easily defended yourself against such a claim. You hold something else against him, don't you?"

Kandric grinned, "Actually, I came into town to extract some revenge on him. The timing of the merchant kid's attack on the Halfling and being so close to his shop could not have been a better set-up for me. Now I get to totally destroy him!"

Vondum again looked at Kandric's eye; "I'll be the one doing the destroying. I just want to know what he did to you to begin with and why you came into Slome today, of all days, to get your revenge."

Kandric moved over to the Halfling and smiled, "Hello again!"

"Hi," the boy managed to say as he continued to hold his nose."

Kandric immediately started a healing spell. As he got the glow on his hands to the brightest intensity he could he answered Vondum; "The man is arrogant. He makes the lives of the Slum dwellers and even the low peasants in town miserable. Velert refused to hire me many times while blocking me from getting hired many more. He had me thrown out of town two separate times because by me looking for work because he claimed I was taking potential work away from those of higher classes. As far as why I chose today? Well, I found out he is the current owner of Jamon's brother this morning."

Vondum held the small Halfling as Kandric moved forward and pressed his hands up to the boy's nose. The lad squealed in pain but didn't pass out during the healing. Vondum nodded in a slightly praising way as he lifted the boy with one hand back onto the steed. "How in the name of the gods did this lowly Healthman get Jamon's brother?"

"I am not sure, but after the way he has treated me and the rest of the Swamp Slums residents, I have no intention of paying to get Jamon's brother. As a matter of fact, after what he did today, I have no intention of letting him own much of anything."

Vondum shook his head and growled, "Owning something is going to be the least of his concerns when I get my hands on him!"

Kandric grinned, then pointed up to the Halfling. "I sure hope you have not found a replacement for me."

Vondum put on a pouty frown causing Kandric to burst out in laughter.

Vondum moved up and gave Kandric a quick hug and kiss, "Don't even start teasing me boy, I already know where you are ticklish!"

Before Kandric could squiggle free, Vondum's fingers was already lightly digging into the boy's ribs. Kandric squirmed and yelped out wave after wave of laughter before he finally felt the man back off. Gasping for breath, Kandric looked up with a huge smile, "No fair!"

Vondum jumped up on his mount grabbing the Halfling boy as he did so, "Neither is teasing me," Vondum winked as he turned his attention to Londow and Rylop, "I'm going to track down Velert. Make sure your people stay out of my way or I'll go through them as well. Nothing is going to stop me, not even the gods!" He then pointed to Kandric, "He needs to be in the slums at first light, I expect an escort with him ready to fight and kill some Gnolls with us."

"You'll have it Captain!" Rylop replied with a salute.

Watching Vondum ride back down the street, Londow snorted, "I'd better go warn our patrols and round up a squad for tomorrow while you get Kandric's things from the school. We can't afford to lose no more guards."

Conner

Conner slipped away from the feast early. Even after the conversation with Captain Pontarious, he was not comfortable with himself or his new friends. Sure, they accepted him and even seemed to like him. The only problem was, he was not sure he accepted or liked himself. His whole life since he had been declared a Non-child had been one mistake after another. When compared with what Aster and Kandric had become, he was nothing more than a failure.

One thing always helped these moods and he knew it. He stripped off everything but his loincloth and began an exhaustive workout. He started with speed casting drills. Pretend casting all of his memorized spells one after another as quickly as he could. The only thing he didn't do was put his magical force behind the spells, so as to save his magic. Next, he went over his fighting stances and used his Dives to 'attack' a small woodpile while moving and dodging his own shadow. With a good sweat worked up in the cold air, he slowed down and practiced his silent movements and slight-of-hand surrounding his Lockmaster skills.

Conner knelt and grabbed a bucket of water. Taking a long drink he stood and turned, "Captain, this is two times tonight you have decided to pay attention to me instead of your crew. Is this your way of telling me you want to share a bed with me or something?"

Pontarious moved into view, "Son, don't ask questions like those. Some adults might take it as an invitation."

"Only once."

Pontarious remained silent, but did nod.

"So, what do you want from me?"

Pontarious sat on the pile of wood and carefully pulled out the Dives. "I just wanted to see who the real Conner is. Our earlier talk told me a great deal about your past and how you dealt with the obstacles thrown your way, but very little about who you are."

Conner moved up and took the offered dives from Pontarious. As he slipped them back into his wristbands he shrugged, "I'll let you know as soon as I figure it out. Question I have is why?"

"Why what? Why do I want to know, why am I so interested in you, or why do I care?"

"Yes."

Pontarious laughed, "Dumb question, huh?"

"Yea," Conner admitted. After a moment he grinned. Something about the older man was so comforting it was almost scary.

Pontarious lightly patted Conner on the back as he returned the boy's smile. "So what would you like to know first?

"I guess my real question is somewhere in the middle of all of it. I not real sure why anyone would care about a kid whose mom kicked him out of the house."

Pontarious looked skyward for a moment as he collected his thoughts. "I know all about wanting to get trained and making mistakes to get what I wanted. My brother and I both made a big one. The only difference is, I didn't have what it took. My brother, however, had enough guts and determination for both of us. He saved my life when I couldn't handle it anymore, and tossed me to the wolves once I had gained enough will of my own to survive. I hated him, but when I look back, both his decisions were correct. One of these years I hope to thank him. In the mean time there is one thing I can do to honor him."

Conner started to shiver lightly as the sweat from his workout started to dry and the cold nigh wind coming off the river chilled him. "Honor him? How?"

Pontarious pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around Conner, "By offering you a friend, a home, and if you want it, a family."

"Huh?"

"Conner you are so much like my older brother it is scary. You took the toughest routes, chose to fight an uphill battle, and are willing to cover for loved ones with your life. Those same traits are what made my brother who he was. Like you, he willingly became something others hated to save my life. Like you, he slowly changed, losing the good and loving parts of himself. The difference is, you still have Aster and others you care about. There is a strong caring side in you. But I can see it slipping away. It is in your eyes, Conner. You are thinking about giving it all up. It is the same look I saw in my brother's eyes the day he chose to take power over his love of family."

"Are you a Mindmaster er something?" Conner gasped out in surprise.

"No."

"Am I really so easy to read?"

Pontarious tested the waters by putting his arm around Conner, "Not unless you really know what you are looking for. I bet Aster knows something is wrong with you, but doesn't know what. The others, well simply put, you don't let anyone else close enough for them to know if you are in a bad or a good mood, so they have no way of knowing."

Conner found himself confused by two opposite feelings. One part of him wanted to pull away, yet another part desired the closeness, to snuggle, to be hugged. He decided on a middle ground. He did nothing. He sighed, partially out of fear. He was not used to giving others control over any part of his life, let lone with close contact. It took a great deal of effort to not smack at the arm tenderly draped over his shoulder.

Pontarious waited, expecting a question or at least some reaction. When he didn't get any, he decided to continue. "Conner, I am offering you a chance to keep and regrow your heart and your love for others. I know what you are thinking. You cannot be part of your real family, at least not completely, at least not yet. You think you burned too many bridges. I, for one, don't believe your family feels like you think they do. But until you decide this is the case, you may consider my family as yours. You, if you so wish, may become as a son to me. In return, I will demand only one thing."

Tears threatened to spill out of Conner's eyes. He figured he already knew the answer, but he still had to ask, "What?"

"You must learn how to open your heart again my boy," answered a soft and serious voice. "You must learn how to trust others and how to love without attaching strings."

Conner hung his head, "I don't know how."

"Yes you do," Pontarious insisted, "You have just forgotten. You are where I was at before my owner freed me and gave me some money and a small lab and handed over my son to take care of as a free child."

Conner's head jerked up in surprise; "You were a slave?"

"Yea," Pontarious admitted, "All because I wanted to be trained."

"You turned yourself into a slave for training?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. But you can hear my long story later. I need an answer to my offer."

"Can I think about it?"

Pontarious closed his eyes and cringed hoping the boy would eventually understand his harsh stance, "No. This is a decision you have to make now. You need to determine how you wish to grow up. Do you want to continue down the road you are on now or do you want to reclaim your ability for affection and compassion."

Conner's left hand slammed into the deck of the barge shattering some of the planking, "I don't know if there is any of either left in me!"

Pontarious nodded, "There is. The way you handle little Zoldon and your brother, Aster, tells me as much. The fact you are willing to walk away to protect your family tells me even more."

Tears poured down Conner's face. Finally he pushed his head into Pontarious' shoulder hard enough to make the man wince. "I'll try. I'll really try!"

Pontarious wrapped his other arm around the boy, "I know you will Conner. Come on, let's get you below decks and warm you up."

Conner allowed the man to pull him to a standing position and started to lead him back toward the Captain's Quarters. "What about your deck?"

"Worry not my boy, the men will simply fix it and will not ask questions. They are used to my potions messing up the ship. None of them will think otherwise."

Through his tears Conner laughed and accepted a hug of compassion from an adult for the first time in over a decade.

Kandric

Kandric smiled at the pair of guards standing watch outside of the Slome prison. The look on the guards' faces showed their astonishment as they took in the sight of the boy who only an hour ago had been just another kid in the boy's dungeon. What really caught their eyes were the rugged armor, nice clothing, and the sword slung menacingly over the red-haired Half-elf's back. The way everything was worn told far more than the items being worn. The boy was experienced and walked with complete confidence. One of the guards recovered and managed a smile as he saw the Wilderness Scouts markings on the armor. "Velert is in world of trouble!"

Londow snickered, "Yea, Slome is about to lose a Healthman."

"And an arrogant snob," the other guard chimed in once he recovered from the original shock over seeing who the real Kandric was.

Kandric glanced up at Rylop, "Would you mind if I wore my old guild pins?"

"Nope, but it'll sure make the other guards nervous."

Kandric shrugged as he pulled out his Secondary Step Three guild pins. "This is from the last time I was able to test, so they are not current," he stated to the two now thoroughly astonished guards.

"A Secondary Echelon Shaman?" the two managed to snort out in unison.

Londow chuckled, "And a lot better than a mere Step three too."

The first guard to speak shuttered, "Oh da Gov'nor is goin' ta be furious when he find out Velert staked a claim based on class when he had no right ta do so!"

The other guard cringed as he realized the extent of Velert's mistake. "His actions make the whole Swordsman Guild look bad!"

Rylop agreed, "True, but if ya see Velert do nothing, say nothing, and don't provide no help or info. Captain Vondum wants ta handle Velert himself."

Kandric giggled at the look on the guards' faces, "I bet it makes you both glad you are not in his shoes!"

"Major understatement Mr. Shaman," the second guard spoke with a combination of respect and sincerity.

"My name is Kandric. There is no need to use a Secondary Echelon greeting, I mean I'm only eleven in equivalency years!"

Rylop chuckled, "You want to be called by your name, you've got it! I'm sure none of us guards will argue!"

Kandric shook his head as the whole scene struck him as funny. Less than two months ago none of these guys would have glanced his direction if had had been hurt. Matter of fact, none of them had when Porma had attacked him in the middle of the street with iron. A sudden though occurred to him, "You all might want to remember these guild pins when you see one of us from the Swamp Slums. You never know who you are really dealing with, so a little more respect might be a good idea."

Kandric hid how satisfied he felt as he saw all four men slowly nod as his words sank in. Instead he decided to not let them dwell on what might or might not be in the Swamp Slums, "So can we go play in the lower dungeon now?"

Londow's face scrunched up a little, "Umm, yea, I guess, but I'm not so sure about playing." Rylop snickered, "Remember you be dealing with a Ruinseeker! They don't think normal!"

"Hey!" Kandric shouted as he led the way down to the boys' section of the dungeon.

Londow laughed, as he grabbed the keys. "Well, you guys don't! How many people enjoy poking around in dungeons, grave yards, and destroyed castles."

Kandric flashed a huge smile, "Me!"

Rylop patted Kandric's shoulder; "I rest my case!"

Kandric entered the cell area with Rylop and watched the expressions on the kids' faces as well as the guards watching them clean out the upper corridor. All activity stopped as he moved in to inspect the first few cleaned out cells. Finally, Kandric moved back out and glanced around. "You all knew I was spell caster and was guilded, so stop gawking and get to work!" He paused for a moment then put on a very nasty smirk, "unless any of you want to see if they can take me on and become the leader down here."

It didn't take long for the kids to get back to work. If anything they worked harder because of the implied threat. The guards even turned up the pressure as they realized the small Halfelf was indeed a Secondary Echelon spell caster.

Kandric looked to Rylop, "We should take a few of the older kids for torch and oil carriers and a couple of extra guards to keep them safe just in case of trouble. There is no way of telling if something may have moved in down there."

Rylop didn't hesitate. He pointed to two of the guards and four of the older boys, "Take those four up and get them ten torches and fifteen flasks of oil each. With the few rats we saw up here there are likely to be a whole host of them as we get deeper. Make sure each boy is given some shoes and some leather chaps to protect they lower legs. I don't want any of them getting bit let alone diseased by rat bites."

Kandric looked over the four selected boys. He smiled as he realized Rylop had carefully selected boys he knew were trainable yet had not received any real training. This made them more useful than mundanes would have been but not as dangerous as bringing down kids with real training. "I want them to each have a dagger and they should carry a couple of score worth of extra arrows for us as well as a water skin and some extra food. I want them equipped with at least the basics of adventuring gear," he pulled out four gold coins he had received for some of the spells he had sold. "I saw your armory up stairs and know you have the goods but, this should cover the cost and should get them all full leather armor. If it does not cover the cost of all the supplies, I'll get the rest to you later."

"You want me to arm the prisoners?" The Dwarven guard asked with a startled voice.

Rylop thought it over for a second, "Kandric's right. They may need such gear if they get separated from us or have to run for any reason. I don't expect trouble none, but it be best to be over ready then not ready enough. Besides, Kandric be the Ruinseeker and he be running this show," Rylop paused for a second then added, "Unless you want to fight a Secondary Echelon Shaman."

The Dwarf grumbled but shook his head; "I'm not stupid enough to play with no spell thrower."

Londow grunted, "Besides, he be paying and has the gold to back it up!"

"Right, a boy with gold," the dwarf complained, "While I make a lousy two silver a week," the Dwarf headed up the stairs mumbling, "One little snot nosed brat has more money in his pocket than I get in two blasted years! There is something very unfair about this world!"

Kandric couldn't wait. He moved down the passageway with Londow and Rylop right behind him. By the time the three had broken the lock on the bronze door and forced it open the others were equipped and ready to move forward. A wave of dank and musty air washed over the group as the door was forced open.

One of the boys behind Kandric spat, "What died down there?"

Londow held his nose, "Good question, but I'll bet ya it's just old and stale. Let's have two of ya light torches. When they burn down we'll have the next two light theirs. None of ya will get too tired and we won't waste no torches."

Rylop nodded, "Good plan," he pointed to two of the boys; "You'll be the first to carry torches. Stay close, but don't stand right next ta each other. The further apart you are, the more light we'll have."

Kandric shook with excitement as he entered the long forgotten passageway. He was somewhat surprised such an area had been sealed off to begin with and wondered what had led to such a decision. With any luck, the answer or answers could be found. He could not help but notice he was probably the only one to find this truly fun. The guards themselves were slightly uneasy in the corridors of the deepest part of the original fortification, which had over the centuries become Slome. They men moved in right behind Kandric, making sure there was no danger to the youthful prisoners. Each door was pulled open, some even had to be pried because age had taken its toll on the solid bronze doors and the thick bronze pegs which slid into the rock to lock the doors. Almost all the bronze in the passageways had long ago turned an ugly green.

Occasionally a mouse or rat would try to scamper away, but they were dispatched with arrows and their nest burned out with oil when located. Such creatures could case sickness and, therefore, needed to be rooted out and destroyed.

It was clear to not only Kandric, but also the rest of the kids how the guards were surprised at how vast and deep the long unused section of the dungeon was. Its passages twisted and turned; there were over a dozen sets of hallways with small cells branching off from the main hall, each with a solid bronze door locking it off from the rest of the halls. In addition to the cells there were long forgotten barracks areas for the guards. Behind two doors the surprised group found fully laid out kitchens and one large mess hall for troops. One of the Kitchens was for the prisoners, the other for the guards. It was obvious to all those seeing them, which was which. The guard's kitchen had a full sized pantry and still held a large amount of cooking equipment. While the other held six fire places and six large bronze kettles with massive wooden holders, which could be wheeled down the halls to feed all the captives. Of course all the bronze had long ago turned green from lack of care and the wooden carts for pushing the kettles were completely rotten and mice ridden. Still, for a Ruinseeker, Kandric found the exploration to be fascinating!

One question kept nagging at him. As he watched the last of the wooden carts be put to the torch in the prisoner kitchen he turned to Rylop. "It is a good thing there is still air flowing through the corridors to clear the smoke, but where is it all going and where are the mice and rats getting all their food?"

Rylop paused as he watched the flames quickly consume the rotten wood. He looked around the room and watched the smoke swirl out and out the chimney over one of the lager cooking fire areas. He frowned. "Good question," he turned to the two other guards he had assigned to help clear out and inspect the lower dungeon. "Kandric, Londow and me will finish down here. You two split up. One of you needs to round up all them kids still working up stairs and get each of 'em into one of them tiny cells fer two hours or so. As we've seen there be more then enough of rooms for the brats. I'd bet there'll be no problems getting them to agree ta Kandric's scheme once them boys get a feel for what life 'll be like if they argue.

"The other one needs to alert our guards and look for where this smoke is coming out. Kandric's right. All this smoke has ta be going somewhere.

Kandric sighed, "Lets burn all of these wooden cauldron holders to give them a chance to find where this chimney leads. We should probably mark where we are and continue the exploration after we take care of an annoying Gnoll infestation."

Rylop snorted, "Ya know Kandric, my men be scared of a single Gnoll while you talk about a hoard of them as mere bother, nothing more than a mosquito to swat.

***

Kandric moved down the slope of the ravine slowly, watching his footing. He smiled as some of the men behind him and Vondum cursed as they occasionally lost their footing. He stopped and looked across to the far side. It was difficult, but he could make out the Caravan forces as they worked down an equally steep slope. Scouts had verified the Gnoll village was right were the captives had said it would be. Unfortunately, the village was in a well hidden spot and access without detection was next to impossible.

Kandric held up his hand, signaling to Sy to stop the squad of men added to the attacking party from Slome. Kandric knelt behind a bush and glanced around.

"Problem?" Vondum whispered.

"Yes," Kandric pointed to a small mound of loose stones; "This path is trapped."

Vondum slipped down to the mound and brushed some of the stones away. Beneath it he found a tightly woven branch mat. It could easily support the weight of a small animal, but an armed swordsman would fall right through. "We'll have to mark them."

"I know," Kandric stated while nodding toward the other group, "But if we have traps on this side, they are certainly going to encounter them. They are attacking from the Slome side."

"You have to worry about our group, Kandric. They wanted the Slome side because they expected heavier resistance. They wanted the new troops I got for them to get the brunt of the combat so let them worry about what they face."

"At the rate they are moving, we will get into position first though."

Vondum laughed softly, "I offered to lead them. If I had, they would already be attacking the Gnolls."

"I still think I could have gotten this group here first," Kandric whispered back with a smile.

"You aren't in the swamps, boy. You are good, but not as good as me out here," Vondum uncovered some more of the trap and moved forward, "Let's get our people into position then move forward on our own. Let's see how far we can penetrate without backup."

"Now there is a real challenge!" Kandric grinned with enthusiasm.

Two hours and eleven traps later Vondum positioned the squad from the Slome garrison. "Remember men, your job is support. I don't want to hear about none of you stealing the show. Your primary job is to cover their backs and help if one or more of them get into trouble. Kandric and I are going to move in, track down their spell casters and kill them before they can do too much damage. Sy is your overall commander here, so his orders are law. Got it?"

One by one all eight men in the patrol nodded.

Sy gazed over the twelve structures and the pair of caves and shrugged, "We'll be fine. They only got seven guards in sight and most of their workers appear to be young'ans. We must have hurt em bad when they hit the caravan."

"They hurt themselves, and now they pay the price," Vondum grunted as he motioned for Kandric to move in.

Kandric slipped from the cover of the bushes, stayed low and dashed to the side of the first building. He knelt long enough to make sure he had not been spotted before he slipped around to a small shack with a curl of smoke coming from the chimney. Kandric again knelt and waited for Vondum to catch up. It took only a few seconds. "You spotted something I didn't you?"

Vondum nodded, "I saw an Illorc by the tiny cavern to the south."

"The one by the pair of Spike Pines?"

"Yea."

"So?"

"So. If an Illorc is in the camp, there is a reason for it. As best as I can tell, we are the only ones who spotted the tiny cave, so we need to find out what is there and if necessary keep it a secret. If Monarch is hiding something here, we cannot let it be revealed."

"Why do you follow an Illorc?"

"Kandric," Vondum sighed, "You will have to meet him to really understand, but he has good plan to bring together the entire plateau under a united rulership. I know some parts of the plan are less than pleasant. I also know the way you see it, are the same way others would see it if the plan ever got out. Give him a chance to win you over, Kandric. In the mean time, I really need your help on this."

"You know I am with you, Vondum," Kandric replied with a slightly hurt voice.

Vondum winced, "Sorry to question your loyalty, it's just this may be very important. Then again, it may be nothing. One way or the other we need to find out. You circle to the left around the wood storage lean-to; I'll cut around the long building to the right. If I am right, and we keep our heads down, we should be able to get to the tiny cave mouth without being seen by either group."

"I would agree if the other group was in position to commence the attack, but they are not."Kandric snorted. "If they are moving down the hill on target, there is a chance they will be able to see us."

"We will have to risk it. We cannot allow any Illorcs to defend the whole village or exposure of what they are guarding is all but guaranteed."

Kandric took in a deep breath and exhaled carefully to avoid any chances of his breath being seen then darted out from the cover of the building. Picking his way carefully and ducking behind natural cover over a dozen times before sliding up the rock face close to the small cave entrance. Two Illorc guards could be seen just inside the entrance that seemed to open up quickly beyond them. Kandric took a moment to steady his breathing before he cast a nap spell, splitting it in two.

Both Illorc guards staggered for a moment then fell to the floor. Kandric darted in the entrance, pulled out his dagger and cut off strips of cloth from the Illorc's shirts. By the time Vondum appeared Kandric had gagged both guards and was in the process of tying their hands.

Vondum shook his head the second he saw Kandric. As he knelt he pulled out some rope, "Nice work on bringing them down, but these are Illorcs, my boy. They'll snap those weak bonds in a matter of minutes."

"I twisted the cloth."

Vondum grabbed a strip of the cloth, twisted it tightly, and then augmented his strength. It took less than thirty seconds before he was able to tear it enough to snap it.

"Oh 3;" Kandric paused. "This is what Glaster taught me, though."

"For Human's, Goblins, Dwarves, Elves, and even Orcs tightly twisted cloth works great. The same doesn't hold for Illorcs or powerful Warrior Adepts though."

Kandric nodded understanding as he cut a section of the rope and retied the Illorc's hands.

"Hog tie them so they can't try to untie each other," Vondum ordered.

Kandric slapped his head, "I never thought of them helping each other either. I guess I am not used to this kind of combat."

"The important thing is you learn quickly and under pressure. Glaster taught you how to adapt quickly. It is one thing not to know; it is another thing to be willing to admit it. Follow my lead?"

"Absolutely!"

Vondum checked Kandric's knots then moved forward motioning for Kandric to follow. He moved taking his first left. Sticking to the left wall, he moved rapidly taking each turn. A few torches lit the passages, as they got deeper into the cave. Six times Vondum eliminated a lone Gnoll four other times the task fell to Kandric. Twice they paired up to take on and subdue an Illorc, and once they had to kill one. Finally the sounds of a combat school started echoing though the deeper parts of the cavern. Illorc voices issued commands for thrusting, followed moments latter with dozens of grunts as the maneuver was preformed.

Kandric pushed himself up against the cave wall next to Vondum, "OK, now what? We cannot fight an army."

Vondum closed his eyes as he thought over options. Slowly he rubbed his hand over his hair then stopped suddenly. We have no choice. We have to take out the cadre. With them out of the way, the students will fold."

"How do we take out all the teachers?"

"Preferably, one at a time. Let's backtrack, and work to the right. We are so deep right now; there is a very good chance the attack could happen without any of those we are hearing knowing the village was ever assaulted."

"Then we may not even have to fight them?" Kandric Asked hopefully

"I'm rarely so lucky. It would be nice if it worked out, but I am more interested in taking out the outer guards. This will prevent this area from being discovered. Eventually one of the bodies we left behind will be found and the alarm sounded. When it happens, we will have to prevent those in here from making it out there."

"Great! We get to act as gate guards."

"More like prison guards, only all the prisoners are armed and wanting to break out. We have to stop them while killing as few as possible."

Kandric rolled his eyes, "You make it sound so easy."

Vondum grinned, "I just hope the assault is going better than our scouting mission!"

Klorna

Outside the small hidden cave mouth, the assault was well underway. The guards fell quickly, as did the outer building. Fighting intensified as they closed on the four large central buildings. Sy finally ordered the Slome garrison in when a spell caster hit the caravan's guard commander, Klorna with a flame spell of some sort. He twirled his fingers sending a burst of ice shards at the spell casting Gnoll knocking it down. "Move in. Hit from their flank and work toward the Caravan guards."

Sy rushed forward, dropping a young Gnoll with a dagger in a single swipe of his mace. The other Slome guards moved forward with equal measures of success, but took slightly longer to do so. Sy, ignored the lesser Gnolls, went straight toward the one he noticed was doing most of the leading. As it raised its hammer Sy cast an ice spell on the handle of the weapon.

The Gnoll yelped in surprise and terror as its grip on its weapon failed and the hammer sailed backwards into the building.

Sy didn't hesitate. He slammed his mace into the Gnoll's midsection cracking a couple of ribs. As it doubled over he slammed the mace down between its shoulder blades.

The Gnoll coughed blood as it drew its dagger and sliced Sy's leg wide open. Its eyes glinted for a moment before an arrow pierced its skull and ended its life.

Sy looked up to see one of Kandric's brothers standing a good twenty paces back with a bow held in shaking hands. "Good kill! Stop, breath, and get your nerve back!" Sy watched in a mixture of pride and astonishment as the boy's hands steadied and pulled another arrow out of the small quiver over his shoulder. The aim and release were next to perfect as the arrow zipped between two of his own people and embedded itself deeply into the chest of a Gnoll desperately trying to pull back. Half a dozen more arrows flew out of the tree line behind Kandric's brother. Most missed. Still, the effects broke the remaining Gnolls' moral.

The ill prepared Gnolls reacted badly without a good leader. In less than five minutes all resistance was crushed. Only one guard, who had gone unnoticed at the western entrance to the village, managed to slip away.

Klorna pulled herself over to Sy, "Glad ya recommended letting my students get some combat archery practice."

Sy pulled out a bandage from his pack and tied off his leg, "Them Gnolls 'll be madder than a cornered Pit Badger if'n they find out it be kids firin' arrows at em!"

"They'll never find out. One of the teachers will pull them back and have them shoot at any of em who flee. Thanks for waxin' the spell thrower for me!"

"Happy ta help," Sy pointed to his leg; "Ya got a Healthman?"

"Yea," Klorna pulled herself up with the help of a tree, "Healthman needed! Bad wound over here!" One of the guards came over, "Commander, Klorna?"

The female Dwarf saw by the look on the man's face something was wrong. The man almost looked sick. "Bad news?"

"Well, umm, I 3;"

"Spit it out solider!"

One of the Healthmen came over and knelt beside Sy, "Commander, Ya better take a look in those buildings. It's kinda hard to describe."

Sy nodded, "I'll be fine. Go."

The Healthman pulled off the bandage and crinkled his nose, "How in the name of the gods can you take this much pain! It's all the way to the bone!"

"Then get to fixin'!" Klorna ordered as she leaned on the first guard, "Come on, let me go see what all the fuss is over!"

Klorna entered the first long building, took one look around and nearly feinted. There were dozens of cages on one side, each holding a single female. All but a few looked to be pregnant. On the other side were cages after cages holding very young half being, mostly Half-Gnolls, but others held Halforcs, Half-Kobalds, Half-goblins, and Half-Illorcs. Many of the half-beings were mis-formed and had labels on the cages listing Potion and then a number of one through six.

The guard lowered her to the ground. "The other buildings are similar. One contains male prisoners, mostly older teens, who have been forced to breed with other races. The third has the females they were forced to breed with and more creatures like you see in here."

Klorna puked on the floor, wiped her mouth and shivered. "What's in the last one?"

"Half-race kids who don't look weird like these things do," he pointed over to the misshapen babies held in the cage closest to him. "One of the large caves holds a huge Mystic lab and another two dozen pregnant females of different races. The other looks like it was their barracks for their troops. We captured several supply wagons, lots of weapons, and a huge amount of trade goods. It looks like theses Gnolls have been raiding caravans and using some of the prisoners for this."

"What about the Mystic who ran the lab?"

The guard shook his head, "No sign of him. We are continuing to search, but it looks like he got away somehow.

Kandric

Vondum looked at Kandric as the pair killed yet another Gnoll. "I count eighteen kills and ten subdued. There can't be many left!"

"They have all been fairly good too!" Kandric yawned. "I guess I should have gotten some sleep last night after all."

Suddenly a secret door opened behind Kandric. He spun with his sword lowered.

An Elderly man saw the boy and started a spell. A blade to his throat interrupted the castling long before it could be finished.

Vondum drew a line across the man's chin drawing blood, "Mafto, Don't do anything you couldn't live through. Take your hands out of your pockets slowly. If I see a potion in either one, you are dead."

The man's eyes went wide, "Vondum?"

"Yes. And the lad you are trying to cast on could drop you with a spell faster than you can spit one out old man. Do not try us."

"But the camp is under attack!"

"Indeed it is."

"Don't you care?"

"Why should I?"

"Vondum, this is one of Monarch's training bases for his Half-race forces."

Kandric's eyes narrowed. "His what?"

The old Mystic glared down, "Boy shut up!"

Kandric snapped his fingers as he twirled his thumb. A sharp blast of cold air slammed into the man's arm smashing it into the rock wall of the cave. Bones broke.

The man fell to his knees gripping his battered hand and arm.

"I think the boy, as you call him, was demanding an answer, not asking a question Mafto," I just finished warning you about his abilities. Don't test him again. You may not live through it."

"OK!" the man shouted half out of pain and half out of anger, "Monarch has had me set up three bases like this. We take the females captives from the caravans we raid who are in prime breeding ages and bring them here. They are forced to breed with other races. We also bring the older boys and use them for the same thing. I then use my potions to help things along. Those who show real potential are brought into the slave quarters here and bread with Illorcs."

Vondum lowered his head into his hands, "And then the Half-Illorcs are trained. They are to be the bridge between the monster races and the other races since Illorcs are probably accepted more than any other Monster race, there is a good chance a Half-Illorc army would be accepted!"

Kandric felt his stomach heave, "Illorc's cannot breed with humans! A human male cannot penetrate deeply enough and it would kill a human mother to have a litter of three or four pups of four to five kilos each!"

The Mystic looked at Kandric with a degree of surprise; "I designed a potion to keep the numbers to one, two at the most. It only works after the woman has had kids of two different half races who were not too badly malformed. Dwarves also takes two, Elves take three, but I have only succeeded four times with them."

Vondum clenched his fist. "Mafto, you need to hide here until we clean out the village. Don't let anyone be seen, got it?"

"Yea."

"Good. Kandric, fix his hand."

"Are you sure?" Kandric's voice betrayed his skepticism.

"Very."

Kandric pulled up healing spell and cast it on the Mystic's hand. Most of the bones mended. Kandric knew he could have done better, but just did not want to. He could tell by the look on Vondum's face the man knew this as well. Kandric was pleased to see a slight smile creep into Vondum's features as Mafto grimaced in pain as he opened and closed his hand.

Vondum lead Kandric back through the secret passage, making sure to seal it up on the other side. He then joined the victorious forces within the seized village. Looking down at Kandric he smiled, "Tomorrow you will meet Monarch."

Kandric yawned again. "I need to get back to the dungeon."

"Not until you get a full night's sleep."

"But 3;"

"No, Kandric. You are too tired to think straight."

Kandric put on his best pleading look.

Vondum smiled like he was about to give in. As Kandric lowered his guard, Vondum lowered his head and cast a Sleep spell. Before Kandric could react, he fell into a deep sleep.

Monarch

In a dimly lit tent with only a well-tended fire keeping the outside cold fog at bay, a brooding figure sat on a Nightwood throne gilded in a mixture of silver and gold. The being's clothing matched his dark expression; even this scene was no match for his terrible thoughts.

The figure gazed down at the base of his throne and barred his teeth at the charred lump of flesh. Moments ago the blackened mass had been a Gnoll. For a moment the face smiled slightly, thinking of the power of the spell that had killed the creature. The being even managed a brief chuckle when it thought of the ease in which the spell had been called forth. The gruesome expression faded quickly as the news the Gnoll brought came back to the front of his mind.

Standing, the being stepped down from his throne and began walking across the room. It stopped and began to pace as its mood again turned foul. Finally it relaxed enough to exit the tent. It growled as it pulled the fine Winter Wolf fur coat over its shoulders to block out the cold. From his hilltop vantage point it watched as its elite troops drilled. The figures' movements seemed almost ghost-like in the winter fog. Another growl came from somewhere deep inside as it muttered, "Winter! This should be spring! Even the weather seems to stand against me!"

The voice faded as a frown returned. So long, the creature thought. So long I have planned, manipulated, schemed to arrange a corner of this world to be ripe for my conquest. Now this. Turning from the open tent flap, the brooding figure continued a slow stroll around the empty tent. Devoid of life now, since his outburst of rage sent all of his attendants fleeing for their lives. They would return. They always did. Yet he also knew there were two guards assigned to watch his tent and to guard him. They were close, but like the others even his personal guards knew when to give him space. Now was one of those times. When they were certain their Master's anger had passed they would return. Such a time was not now. No, the time to be near him was most certainly not now. Events of the past few months had finally pushed him near the edge of his temper and beyond. How could such a simple plan face so many obstacles? Why didn't others see what he wanted to accomplish?

He was an Illorc. A race of being related to the Orcs, but so, so much more. Illorcs were larger, slightly stronger, more handsome (even by Human standards), and vastly more intelligent. His race was superior to those brutish, loutish Orcs in every conceivable way. The fact most considered the Illorcs to be merely an offshoot of the Orcs was a constant point of aggravation. His race was more given to magic. He, himself, was a sorcerer of immense power. A general of unsurpassed skill.

He was Monarch! He was supreme! And, right now, he was furious.

Monarch firmly believed he had every right to be. Years upon years he has worked quietly. His agenda hidden by shadows and an elaborately constructed background which left him shrouded in myth, even to those in his own race. Seldom did he show himself. Now, on the verge of the beginning of his conquest, his plans threaten to unravel yet one more time. Bandurlok had caused his first failure and had regretted it; matter of fact still was regretting it. Yet, once again his grand and simple plan was being threatened. This time the threat was not external though and this bothered him far more than the petty interference of a Black Dragon Prince.

First there were the Gnolls. Just one of his servant races. They had begun to raid against his strict orders. Caravans coming up the pass only, he told them, to strangle trade and isolate the lands for easier conquest. They failed. Instead of following new marching orders like good troops, they let pride rear its ugly head. "We are warriors, not thieves," they would claim when confronted. Then, inexplicably, all communication with the Gnolls ceased. Well at least until an hour ago, all communication had ceased. Monarch looked back at the tent witch held the smoldering body with a bit of satisfaction. "Worthless clan got what they deserved!" He once again muttered out in a low dangerous voice. He returned to the relative comfort of the tent with a sharp turn. Outside someone would come up to him, ask him a silly question, no it was better for his people to stay away at the moment and he knew it. He pushed aside the tent flaps with enough force to tell his guards now was not a good time to disturb him. He had to do some thinking and clam down first.

The Gnolls were hardly the only problems facing Monarch. Others included Gambra. His servant had fouled up nearly every assignment she had been given. Her attack in the city of Junsac was too bold and her methods too sloppy. Releasing demon larvae was foolish. The leaving of witnesses, even children marked for sale, was extremely foolish. Even now, Monarch had agents working to reclaim the brats and bring them to him. Such a waste of manpower and money bothered him far more than the actual act. He needed his people, his agents, to be working on matters of far more importance. Her behavior had brought far too many eyes to look in his direction, made his name be spoken far too many times in dark places, place where the Junsac Barony Watch kept their ears open. Worst of all, she had chosen Junsac, home of the Watch, to recapture the Prince. Of all places to regain the boy, Monarch could not think of a worse one. The risk of attracting the attention of so many powerful beings as were in the Watch was inexcusable.

The very fact her and her people had allowed the boy to escape within the walls of Junsac pointed to their lack of intelligence and carelessness. Now the boy was in the possession of someone very powerful, possibly even the Watch itself. The raiding party, more of an army really, which had been sent to retrieve the boy, had been wiped out and their bodies looted. All of the money he had invested to gather the force was probably being used to make the young prince even harder to retrieve. Yet one more in a list of Gambra's many recent failures. Adding to the outright failures was a bit of treachery on Gambra's part. She had left a jeweled butterfly at the scene of the demon larva attack as if trying to point a finger at him. Yes, someone had told her to do it. Bandurlok's agent was paying for his fake message sent to the Dark Mage. His screams would continue for many moons until at last his vocal cords would stop working, and even then he would continue to scream; only his screams would be silent. Monarch doubted he would ever give the order to kill the Dwarf. Maybe, one day, he would allow the Dwarf to return to Bandurlok so other agents working for the great dragon would know the price of messing with Monarch. Still, Gambra should have known better or at least confirmed the order before doing something so stupid.

Monarch had finally concluded that the Dark Mage was simply too much trouble to tolerate. He had sent some of his assassins to kill her. In addition he managed to send word of bounty on her head large enough to ensure her demise without linking it in any way to himself. Word of her death would come as a welcome weight lifted off his shoulders.

Monarch again strode to look out of the flap of his tent. He turned his gaze skyward. A new growl of anger escaped his throat as a few light snowflakes hit him. Never in his 98 years of life had he seen such weather. It was clear that the gods had had a hand in all of this. It confused Monarch, and worried him. The gods never took such direct a hand in the affairs of mortals. They stayed aloof during the great Dragon Wars. In his own war with Bandurlok they never so much as batted an eyelash. Why, then, should they stick their noses into his affairs now? Could it have anything to do with the odd, subtle stirrings Monarch felt in the planes of magic? Was there some new being of interest to the gods? Monarch would have to investigate further into this, but later. More pressing, and more currently, were the matters of the lizard men. They were restless and would need to be dealt with soon. The Weather had hampered them, slowed them and made them vulnerable at a time when their strength should be returning; they were still weak and lethargic because of their dependency on warmth.

The most vexing of his problems, though, centered on Vondum. Monarch seethed as he thought about his ally. Concession after concession Monarch had made to get Vondum on his side. Promise after promise, some of which Monarch actually intended to keep others to be kept in spirit if not in truth, all to appease the Captain of Black Rapids. The man most likely to take over the city when the, ailing and childless Duke passes to the next realm. Still Vondum demanded more. More slaves, more money, more time, more control and above all more freedom. It was infuriating. If Monarch didn't need the man so badly, he'd just as soon kill him outright. Monarch did need him though. Not only was Black Rapids strategically important, but fairly wealthy. In addition, it had a sizeable and very well trained army. Vondum himself had a considerable reputation and political influence in the area. Having Vondum on his side would make it easier to recruit others 3;BUT THE MAN WAS IMPOSSIBLE!

Now this latest news of Vondum's deeds, brought to him by the only apparent survivor of the slaughter, was the final pebble of weight tossed onto his back, which had brought on this latest outburst of rage. Monarch stopped at the dining table on the far tent wall, opposite his throne and picked up a goblet of very expensive wine. He thought of the news as his grip tightened around the bejeweled ornate cup.

The Gnolls had attacked the caravan again just beyond the slums outside the city of Slome. His grip on the goblet tightened. They had been repulsed, by slum-dwellers and merchants! How had residents of slums thrown back one of his armies? The goblet began to warp under the pressure of his grip.

The Gnolls returned to their village, only to be beset upon by a counter-attack from the caravan. Wine began to spill from the shaking, shrinking mouth of the goblet. The Gnoll village was overrun, conquered and burned to the ground. All of the surviving Gnolls were captured part of his secret army, the one he planned on using to show the world Illorcs were not monsters was exposed. The wine exploded out of the golden chalice in a violent spray and the metal crushed as he thought of the name of the man who led the attack:

Vondum! Vondum! Vondum!

"What in perdition's name is Vondum doing helping the Swamp Slum dwellers?" Monarch hurled the decimated grail with all of his might at the huge oaken banquet table where the command staff had their meals. It flew with blinding speed at embedded itself deeply in the hard wood. Servants would work long and hard later to remove it.

Monarch began pacing the floor faster, gritting his teeth in fury. Vondum should be back in Black Rapids, tending to his army, preparing them for his role in events to come. If not in Black Rapids, there were several places he could logically be. There were even a few reasons the man might have needed to travel to Slome. Monarch could come up with at least a dozen other places Vondum could be. All of them were locations that would make sense and where his orders could be being followed. Yet Vondum had no business being in the Swamp Slums, none! One thing was absolutely certain; the famed Captain of the Guard of Black Rapids had no right to destroy one of Monarch's supporting forces. Even if the man didn't know about the Half-Illorc forces being bread and trained by the Gnolls, he had no right to assist a rogue caravan in such a battle!

Ebony lightning surrounded Monarch's fists, arcing up his arms as his rage boiled and peaked. His glowing eyes found the still smoking carcass lying on the floor. With a bone shaking bellow, Monarch sent a scintillating bolt of searing energy across the room to strike the smoldering corpse. The powerful spell slammed into the former Gnoll, encircling it, lifting it from the floor, and igniting it. Monarch's roar of rage continued for several seconds as his powerful magic incinerated, rented, and pulverized the body of the Gnoll messenger.

Finally, his rage spent, and the tangy smell of ozone strong in the air, Monarch let the dust and ash fall to the floor. Yes, he thought, I've been behind the scenes too long. I've trusted too many others to do what I should have done myself. Monarch turned and strode out of the command tent pulling on the Winter Wolf fur coat as he did so. The attendants slowly made their way back to clean up the debris of his temper tantrum relieved that their master was looking calmer.

As he walked purposefully down the hill, Monarch allowed another small smile. Indeed. I will most certainly have to start taking a more personal hand in events. As one of my teachers said once, before I killed him, the only way to ensure success is to do it yourself. I will have to take more direct control of things. My first order of business will be to deal with Vondum directly.

Glaster

Glaster nodded to a burly Dwarf guarding the door to the back room of the Dry Tap Tavern. His nod was returned, but one had to really be watching to detect the slight head movement of the Dwarf. Anyone looking on would have gotten the feeling a private gambling game had been set up and only certain participants were allowed. Glaster jingled his pouch to further the deception as he entered and closed the door firmly behind him.

Two men glanced up from the single table in the room. A third being jerked at the sound of the closing door, but the leather bag covering the person's head and upper body prevented any chance of seeing exactly what was going on.

Glaster stared at the hooded figure for a few moments then turned his attention to the pair of captors. He noted the sandy haired man on the hooded figure's left side was Secondary step two while his black haired partner was only Primary step three. He quickly focused his attention on the higher-ranking man. "What did he do to deserve the attention of the Watch, and how does this involve me?"

"Master," the sandy haired man spoke with a quavering voice telling everyone in the room of his nervousness at being addressed by Glaster, "She was going from Inn to Inn looking for a one armed man leading a caravan of merchant apprentice children. She even went to the orphanage to hire children to search for her and report any findings back to her. She is offering twenty gold for good information."

"Quite an impressive sum," Glaster kept his voice hard yet neutral, "Spying on a senior Watch member shows a certain lack of intelligence and the money shows a very wealthy backer. Have you been able to inform Glaster of this situation?"

The sandy haired man's face betrayed his confusion. Fortunately for him, his partner covered quickly, "Master, we sent word before you got here. Glaster is aware of the potential danger. Fortunately, whoever is looking for him seems to have lost track of his whereabouts, but there is evidence someone knows he is headed for the plateau."

Glaster glared at the sandy haired man and tapped his head while silently mouthing the word "think!" He quickly turned his attention to the dark haired man, "Who does this woman work for?"

"She has not been forthcoming with much information, Master," the man pushed over a small bundle; "This is everything she had on her."

Glaster pulled the bundle apart and snickered as he saw the bundle included a full set of clothing, "I gather she is not wearing much under that leather bag?"

"Like I said Master, you are looking at EVERYTHING she had on her."

Glaster again chuckled, "I always have praise for someone who does a thorough job," he continued to dig through the assortment of belongings. His eyes suddenly hardened as he saw a small spell book bound in Bloodwood. He wrapped his hand in the woman's cloak and picked up the book. Holding it up to the candle he moved it slowly back and forth, dark red liquid rolled around within the cover. "She is a Dark Mage!"

The sandy haired man's hand shot to his blade and drew it. Continuing the motion, the blade descended toward the woman's head.

Glaster's blade stopped the swing, "No. If you kill her the book dies."

"So?"

"The book has the life blood of her first victim rolling around inside it. You kill her and the being or creature will become a Quasi-Vampire, needing to suck blood to survive, once it drains enough life force from others it will become a fledging Vampire, Wraith, or Ghoul depending on the power of the victim before she drained it."

Both men gasped in shock. The dark haired man finally managed to speak "So what do we do?"

Glaster grabbed the woman's hand. "Watch and learn."

The woman gasped as she felt her finger being pulled back.

"Release your first kill and destroy your book!"

"No chance Watch scum!" the woman hissed.

Glaster yanked back on the woman's finger. A snap of bone followed, "I do not think I heard you correctly."

A scream sounded from under the bag.

Glaster wiggled the broken finger, "I have nine more fingers and ten toes left and I get to play with them some as well. You will destroy your book, how long it takes and how much pain you have to endure is up to you."

The whimpering woman muttered a pair of arcane words as Glaster started to bend her thumb painfully back toward the back of her hand. The book cover shriveled as dark red blood poured out onto the table. A face of an old man appeared in the pool of blood and spoke, "My thanks for stopping my daughter's use of my essence for her treacherous goals. I may now finally pass on. But let me first tell you what I know. Her Master is a Halfling woman by the name of Gambra. Gambra's plans are to eliminate by assassination someone by the name of King Wyhrem and take over his kingdom by being given power as Queen Pro-tem by a young prince who is somehow magically under her partial control. The face of the man faded as the blood hardened on the table leaving thirteen normal spell pages and six spell pages with dried blood on their edges.

Glaster's voice hardened to a deadly edge, "How does Gambra control the Prince?"

"Even if I knew, you could not force such information out of me you Watch bastard!"

Glaster glanced at the two men. "Keep breaking fingers until she tells you. If you run out of fingers and toes, mangle her hands so she cannot cast and kick her out on the road outside of town."

"I don't know!" the woman screamed in horror upon hearing the words.

"Then you will be allowed to go free by the end of the day wench," Glaster snorted out with a degree of enjoyment in his voice.

"What if she does know?"

"Then get Glaster the information and break her hands so she cannot cast. At least she will keep her feet intact."

Glaster wrote down instructions to make sure the woman was followed regardless of what happened. He then grabbed the pages with bloody boarders and pointed to the rest of the spell pages. "You two split those and sell them as your reward once you get rid of the trash on the chair over there."

The woman again screamed, "You cannot do this! Just kill me!"

"No way," Glaster stated calmly as he walked toward the door. "Sometimes the Watch likes to leave their victims alive to show what we do to those who mess with us," As he exited the back room he heard the crack of bone and another scream of agony. By the time he exited onto the street he wore a wide smile of satisfaction.

Kandric

Vondum patted Kandric on the shoulder. "The figure coming out of the tent up there is who you are here to meet. Do not back down from him or appear weak, yet remember he is a Master Echelon Sorcerer who has a next to legendary temper when insulted. He will test you, but some of his tests will be to see how fast a thinker you are, how fast to anger you tend to be, and how quickly you recover from surprise. For he sees these things as traits of leadership. Any trained being can swing a sword or cast a spell, but not all trained being can lead.

"I am ready Vondum. I am just glad I got a full night's sleep after the skirmish with the Gnolls. I still do not understand why you kept the Half-beings secret, but maybe I will understand more after this meeting."

"You will," Vondum promised, then his face changed, "This is not good."

"What?"

"I can tell by Monarch's stance he is not happy. He may already know of my involvement with the destruction of the Gnoll clan."

"Will he understand the reasons once he hears them?"

"Eventually. But I better start thinking up a concession or two to give him."

Kandric smiled, "You have my ability to send his reinforcements to the Lizardmen. What more do you need?"

A slight grin broke out on Vondum's face, "Very true. I do like the way you think."

Kandric moved forward again, "Come on, let us get this over with so I can finish checking out the Slome dungeon!"

"Which will give me the chance I need to talk to the good ole governor of Slome and seize all Velert's assets within the city and transfer them to you. He may have gone into deep hiding, but without money he will have to resurface. When he does, I will deal with him!"

Monarch saw Vondum moving up the hill toward his encampment. There was a nasty snarl to his face as he looked at his bodyguards, "Leave me now!"

As Vondum drew closer, Monarch noticed a boy with the huge man, a boy with red hair, an almost certain sign or magic potential. His curiosity surpassed his anger and prepared speech for Vondum as he realized the boy wore nothing to indicate he was a slave. In fact, quite the opposite could be seen as the pair moved closer. The child was armed and armored. This was too strange a sight to believe; for one thing Monarch did know was Vondum's taste for boys. He liked to break his toys, to humiliate them, make them believe they were nothing more then living toys to be played with. This youngster could not have carried himself in a more opposing manner.

Monarch took a brief moment to look at the magical energies surrounding the boy. The flow was astonishing. He shook his head and cast a Detect on the unknown child. At Master Echelon a detect spell could tell the caster how powerful a being was, not like Echelon and Step, but instead it told the caster about innate magic, the being's internal magical energies. He sent out his magical feelers slowly. Once they got close Monarch knew the magic he felt was indeed from the child. A massive flow of Shamanistic forces surrounded the child. Shocked he decided to probe a little further.

Kandric suddenly felt the wind swirl around him. He paused for a moment and entered the Spirit realm for an instant.

The wind spirit swirled close by; "Your magical aura is being looked at my strange mortal friend."

"Thank you wind spirit. I will be on guard, but unless there is an attack I will let it continue. If you sense something is being directed at me for harmful reasons swirl around me again."

"With pleasure!"

Monarch felt a resistance to his probe and a strengthening of magic surrounding the youth for a moment then it calmed again. Monarch pushed his spell forward enough to touch the boy. It was the only way to know exactly what type of power he was facing. Was it wild, untamed magic, or was it controlled and tempered by training? The magical feelers got close and recoiled as the found the answer. A backlash of raw magic streamed back down the feelers and into Monarch.

Monarch was ill prepared for a child being in so total control of power very few trained adults could hope to contain let alone utilize. With control came magic defiance, and defiance reacts against intruding spells. Most mundanes thought magical defiance simply prevented damage from magic or at least reduced the damage done by magic. This was true, but only in the case of damage causing spells. Magic defiance provided far more than protection. It was a living extension of the life force surrounding a trained being. It was the extra power drawn upon in battle, which gives a higher Echelon being such an advantage in combat. Magic defiance shaped all of the guilds' systems of ranking members within the guilds, yet it couldn't be measured. The whole reason each guild had developed tests was to determine not only skill, but also the magical energies which surrounded a being. In other words, the tests put some kind of comparison to the strength of true magical defiance while setting aside the fact the race and Field of a being had much to do with the beings' actual ability to protect themselves from spells. In simple terms Magical Defiance was quirky. If it didn't have to defend the being it could strike back automatically, as was the case with Monarch's detect spell.

Monarch felt his spell go sour, knew in the instant before the backlash struck him it was going to happen, but was too surprised to let the spell go. The wave of magic burst forth around Monarch in an explosion of thousands of sparks. Thankfully for Monarch, his magical defiance came to his aid and killed most of the damage, but the effects still set his clothing on fire.

Vondum instantly pulled his sword, looking for the attacker as bodyguards rushed up the hill to protect their leader.

Kandric, on the other hand, knew exactly what had happened. He had felt the spell backfire. This knowledge allowed him to react far faster than anyone else.

Kandric knelt and pushed his hands deep in the snow. He muttered a trio of arcane words and wiggled his fingers. Twin waves of snow shot out from where his hands were buried and raced up the hill. When they reached the burning figure they curled like waves in an ocean and washed over the figure, extinguishing the fire. Long before the first Illorc made it to the side of Monarch, the flames were out.

Kandric had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from laughing as the Illorc stood up after being knocked over by the waves of snow. It snarled, shook his head and smacked at the couple of places where his clothing was still smoldering. If nothing else happened in his lifetime Kandric had gotten a measure of revenge for both Jamon and Conth. He decided to remain silent. Kandric was curious as to what the Illorc would do. Part of him expected to beast to outright lie about what had happened while another part hoped Vondum had chosen to work under someone with the decency to admit a mistake.

Monarch shook his head again to clear it as he spat out some snow. He staggered for a brief moment before he realized what an uproar the whole of the camp was in. Glancing around he was surprised to find Vondum had taken command of his forces and was organizing a defense. Such actions were not the mark of a traitor.

Monarch then focused his attention on the red haired child. The boy met his eye contact and smiled, but otherwise remained quiet. Monarch was not one used to being upstaged, but he had no one to be angry at this time but himself. It had been a long time indeed since one of his own spells had backfired and he couldn't ever recall one doing so with such zeal. He couldn't help but return the smile with one of his own and winked.

Kandric was astonished by the reaction. There was no anger from the beast, not resentment. Instead there was a hint of camaraderie and respect. Kandric decided there was indeed a side to the Illorc worth respecting. To his end he made a slight nod and remained silent.

Monarch found himself impressed by the boy. The lad showed unusual restraint and even had the common sense to allow the first exchange to be done with barely noticeable non-verbal communication. It was equally clear the child had not even told Vondum what had happened. This allowed Monarch to regain control without having to admit to a failure.

The Illorc didn't take long to reorganize his thoughts, "Stand down! He shouted to the hasty defense organized by Vondum.

Vondum spun around, "Who attacked you?"

Monarch paused long enough to give Kandric another wink. "It was a long distance scrying attack, and it failed. My guess is Bandurlok or one of his agents managed to pinpoint me for a moment with a crystal ball and used the opportunity to launch a surprise attack. I have put up a spell to block further such nuisances."

Kandric covered his mouth with his hand to hide the sudden smile.

Vondum moved up the hill, "Are you OK?"

"I am fine, thanks in a large part to your fine little Shaman with the weird spell. I must say it has been more than a few years since I have seen a totally new spell to me."

"Indeed!" Vondum laughed, "Yet I am willing to bet my favorite Wilderness Scout has dozens more he could show you. I have seen him cast an array of such strange spells. As a matter of fact he has even allowed me to catch a few of them."

Monarch raised an eyebrow; "He is really one of your Wilderness Scouts?"

"Yes, and he earned it Monarch. I do not give such positions away, no matter how cute the recipient."

Monarch exhaled, watching his breath in the cold air for a moment. "I can feel his power. I have no doubt he is quite advanced."

"You have no idea, Monarch."

Monarch stifled a chuckle, "Um, yea, I do."

Kandric again had to cover his mouth with a hand. This time he hid a giggle behind a fake cough.

Vondum knew he was missing something, and his facial expression told both Kandric and Monarch as much. Yet the Warrior Adept decided to let it slide.

Monarch moved up to Kandric, "Mind if I ask what spell you knocked me over with?"

Kandric was relieved to have something to really talk about. This way he could hide how funny he thought the whole turn of events had been. "It is in essence a wave spell, I learned from a friend how such water spells could work with all forms of water. A wave can be cast with snow, ice, or even steam if you slightly alter how you speak the triggering phrase. I simply changed the Shamanistic word for water to snow when doing the casting. Everything else remains including the basic effects. Since there was a solid sheet of snow between you and me it worked just like a water wave would have. It was the quickest way to put out the fire from the distance I was at."

Monarch stood transfixed by the explanation. The boy had just opened a new door of magical research that had next to unlimited potential. Almost any casting could be altered in such a way; even Sorcery with its manipulation of raw magic energies could utilize the principals.

"Monarch, are you really OK?" Vondum asked with some concern in his voice

Monarch jerked out of his momentary stupor, "Um, yea. Yes, I am fine. I can tell you both I have much interest in continuing this conversation on magic in the future. I find myself being the student and my teacher being a child. The boy is quite something," Monarch reached down and ruffled Kandric's hair. Even with such a mild contact, Monarch felt the ties of magic around the boy were strong, terrifyingly strong. In the second of contact Monarch knew without question where a large part of the strange magic he had been feeling were centered. Yet there was more wild magic shifting through the fabric of enchantment than this boy. Something strange was certainly close to happening. He also was certain the boy in front of in would play a role and, unless he missed his guess, it would be a large role.

"There is no question, Monarch. Yet I sense there is a problem," Vondum continued never realizing Monarch mind had drifted.

Monarch's eyes showed confusion but his stance hardened as he focused on his conversation with Vondum, "There is one, yes."

"What is it?"

I was just trying to figure out why you come to my defense one moment and attack my forces another. What sort of treachery are you up to Vondum?"

Vondum stood speechless for a second as if the words had delivered a physical blow. "What do you mean, treachery?"

Anger flashed across Monarch's features, "You kill my Gnolls, destroy one of my training camps, and show the world my secrets! How can this not be treachery!"

"It was not an act of treachery!" Vondum shouted back.

"What would you call it then?" Monarch snarled.

Kandric slammed his hands together suddenly. The ground around him, as well as Vondum and Monarch, cleared of all snow as it quickly melted. The temperature went up as a dome of warm steam formed over them. "Would you two hot heads knock it off?" Kandric shouted, "If you want to warm up, then do so with magic. It is my fault the Gnolls are dead and your little cadre of Illorc teachers and their classes of young of Half-beings are safe and still secret!"

Vondum and Monarch both stopped in a mixture of shock and awe.

Monarch put up his hands and took a step back from Vondum. "Um, young one?"

"Yes?" Kandric replied with an acid-like voice.

"What exactly did you just cast?"

"A steam bubble," Kandric replied calming some.

"A steam bubble?" Vondum asked as he looked around the now almost tent-like dome of steam surrounding the small group.

"What exactly is a steam bubble?" Monarch managed to inquire as he poked at it and quickly withdrew his hand as it was scalded.

"It is a Shaman ice bubble, only it is made out of steam instead of ice," Kandric answered with a sigh as he realized he had managed to stop the argument.

"Um, can my troops hear me through this bubble young one?"

Kandric frowned, "Sure, why?"

Vondum managed a chuckle, "Because right about now there are at least six Illorc bodyguards charging up the hill with exactly one goal in mind. All of them probably think someone has just attacked Monarch again."

Kandric's eyes went wide as he realized his rash actions were probably causing a major panic in Monarchs forces, "Oops."

Monarch exploded in laughter, "Oh by the gods I wish I could see their faces!"

"Um, either Kandric needs to cancel this spell or Monarch needs to call off his guards or we are going to have a real mess on our hands."

Monarch managed to grab Kandric's hand before he could snap his fingers and end the spell. "No, no. I kind of like the sauna effect after living out of a tent for the last five months. No sense in wasting the magic."

Still laughing Monarch shouted out, "I am fine! The boy was just showing me a new spell. We will rejoin you in a while!"

A reply came from just outside the steam bubble, "Are you sure my liege?"

"Positive! Don't touch this blasted thing. It's hot!"

"As I already found out my liege!"

"Me too!" Monarch replied with laughter.

"Um, sorry Mr. Illorc," Kandric called out in embarrassment. "My mistake!"

Grumbling and cursing about being burned could be heard from several voices on the other side of the thick wall of steam along with comments about a brat casting magic. The voices diminished as they moved further away.

Vondum sank to his knees in a fit of laughter, followed moments later by Monarch.

Kandric stood watching the pair shaking his head. He didn't know whether he should find more embarrassment or humor in the whole situation. One this was very certain. He felt incredibly silly.

Aster

Sardan broke his concentration with his watch pin and glanced around the party going below decks of the Thunder Rapids. He shook his head to clear it. The magical method of communication within the Watch was amazing and allowed for up to the minute updates, but it tended to be tiring and always gave Sardan a massive headache.

He moved over to Aster and Pocet. "We have new orders."

Pocet looked up from his pate of smoked fish, "We?"

"Yes. Aster has been put on my team and your status as a watch member is no longer probationary. Because of lack of manpower, the Watch voted to count your stand in the arena as one successful mission and the destruction of the forces lead by Quavis' father as the second. If you still want it, you are now a member."

Pocet felt his eyes go wide and his mouth go dry. Taking a quick slug of ale to calm his nerves he answered. "Yes I want it!"

"Fine. We'll get you a watch pin as soon as possible; in the mean time you are part of my team along with Aster. We have been directed to break off our plans and move instead to Everone. Our direct commander for this special assignment is Master Lannet, who I might add, used a Watch marker to get a full team to help Aster down there.

Aster frowned, "How'd they know I was going down to Everone?"

"I have no clue, Aster," Sardan admitted, "But Lord Falk put in a marker of his own to make sure yet another Watch team is going down to help out Master Echelon Shaman Glaster."

Aster could tell his eyes were bugging out of his head in surprise, "By the gods, what is happening down in Everone?"

"I do not know my young friend, but I have one more piece of news," Sardan paused as if trying to put all the information is some sense of order, "Master Lannet and Lord Falk gated to Everone shortly after the Watch council voted to allow both Watch markers to stand."

"It went to a vote?" Aster managed to gasp out as he started choking on the milk he had just taken a drink of.

"Yes it did. It was also a very close vote with Glaster casting the tie breaking vote on getting a team to help you, Aster."

Pocet had a hard time believing all this information; "I don't understand why the Watch wouldn't want a team to help one of their own.

"It's not so simple," Aster answered for Sardan after clearing his throat; "The watch already had two teams in Everone. One to protect the Marquis and the other to find out why we are being attacked and who exactly is behind the attacks. We are spread razor thin right now and having four teams plus Glaster, Lannet, and Falk in one area is all but unheard of. We might as well move Watch headquarters to Everone with so much of our active teams there!"

Falk & Lannet

Falk walked down the Garbage strewn streets of Everone looking at the faces of the peasants who lived and worked within the walled city. He saw nothing but fear, hopelessness and hunger. Even the city guards looked on the verge of wanting to abandon the city. "I have never beheld sssssuch defeat in sssso much of a population before."

"Nor I my friend," Lannet responded. "My Winged Panthers are getting jumpy because of the fear and despair in the air. My question is simply what are we doing down here."

"I have no clue Lannet," Falk conceded after a brief pause. "I think it besssst if we find a building to rent, hunker down, and wait. I have the feeling sssssooner or later the answersssss will find ussss."

"Wonderful," Lannet muttered, "Here I am in a body back in its prime and I end up growing old once again waiting for something to happen and I don't even know what in the blazes I am looking for!"

Falk laughed, "Why Lannet! I have not heard ssssuch fire in your voice in almost a century! It be good to see my old and dear friend back among the fightersssss of the world! Why not check in with the local Captain of the Guard and head out for a little bit of bandit hunting while we wait?"

Lannet snickered as he stretched, "For the first time in a few decades, hunting down and wiping out a few bandits actually sounds fun. Let's do it!"

Monarch

Monarch stifled a yawn as he made a quick tour of his camp and checked on his guards. The Illorc's personal guards were the best he could field and they took their responsibilities seriously, but like any soldier it never hurt to see the over all commander checking up on them once in a while.

Monarch handed back the pair of swords to the inner camp patrol and muttered in a somewhat disapproving way of the need to keep the blades clean and oiled better. Both guards responded with dismayed looks and sharp salutes at having failed the impromptu inspection. Being selected to the camp of Monarch was more than just an honor; it meant better pay and food as well. It would be a shame to lose such a posting because one's blade was not oiled properly.

Monarch finished his inspection before reporting his finding to the sergeant of the guard and the captain of the camp watch. The two Illorcs listened to the lackluster report with a mixture of anger and fear. Monarch let them sweat a few moments before dismissing them. Monarch smiled as the two Swordsmen walked out of the tent with scowls on their faces. The next few days would be hard on his troops but they would be better for it and there would be no more slacking off on minor duties for at least a few weeks.

Satisfied, Monarch sat at his planning table and went over his disposition of forces again. He cursed to himself as he crossed off the Orc Clan Raven and looked in dismay at the Gnoll Wolf Clan. Vondum was correct, of course. The Gnolls had disobeyed orders and had attacked the caravan. Allowing such an undercutting of authority to go by unpunished would erode the authority of the upper leadership. Yet letting the clan be destroyed weakened his hold on Slome and the Swamp Slums to a degree where he could no longer call the area controlled at all. The Goblins were useful, but could not be relied upon enough to engage in real battle without running away. The only other resources in the area were two fledgling Gnoll clans and a detachment of Illorc elite guards. He could not use his Illorcs though. Illorcs had to look like the saviors of the region when the time was right.

There was a second Orc clan to the north which up till now Monarch had set aside as a reserve unit but they only had a pair of fully trained spell casters. Neither had progressed to Secondary Echelon in ability. They would be no match for the well-trained garrison of Slome and the sudden emergence of power from within the Swamp Slums. The next nearest force was a breakaway group of Lizardmen who formed their own clan after their clan had formed a peace bond with their former Lizardmen clan enemies. They could easily pick up the slack around Slome in warmer months, but it was far from warm yet and winter didn't show a desire to allow spring to enter yet. The lethargic Lizardmen would be no better then a band of Kobalds in the cold.

Monarch slammed his fist on the table as rage temporarily pushed aside rational thought, "In a matter of a pair of weeks my southern boarders have collapsed because of one blasted caravan!"

One of the personal guards glanced in to make sure Monarch was not in danger, "Master, is there anything you require?"

Monarch clenched both of his fists and forced himself not to shout at the guard. Instead he allowed his mind to clear as he pushed the anger inside back down to a controllable level, "Holgab, you have been with me for over three years have you not?"

"Yes master," the guard answered in some surprise at actually being spoken to.

"You were in the war against Bandurlok and his armies and have seen us emerge more powerful, yet you have never once stated your opinion on any of my actions. Why?"

The massive Illorc frowned deeply, "Master, I was barely a pup when your army took me in. My only goal is to keep you safe as your army did for me and my siblings. I graduated your Warrior Adept school with highest of marks for combat and was thus assigned to your camp. I then took out a pair of Green Dragonlings attempting to sneak into the camp with poison and was given the job of protecting you while one of your other guards recovered from injuries received in the same attack. I have never been reassigned nor have I wanted to be."

Monarch's eyebrows shot up, "I cannot say I knew any of this about you, yet you still have not answered my question. Why have I never heard your opinion of my operations? You have been my lead personal guard for over a year, your duties could easily be to sit in a tent and order the rest of my personal guard to pull their shifts without ever standing out in the cold. You are at a rank equal to those of any of my Guard commanders, yet I cannot remember ever hearing what you think. You are intelligent enough to have stopped three assassination plots against me and one against Vondum. You have always made sure my personal guards have the best of training and do not let them go soft, and you keep a budget for my personal guard without ever needing to ask for extra money. This shows intelligence and cunning. So now I am asking you for something I have never once gotten from you, your opinion."

Holgab held up his hand, "Give me a minute to get a second guard posted to your tent and I will be back."

Monarch nodded approval and watched the Illorc exit the tent. As he waited he wondered how he could make 100 more just like Holgab. His entire adult life Monarch had dedicated to carving out a place for his kind. His guiding dream was to create place where Illorcs would be accepted and could even rule. So many times his forces had helped out Illorcs only to have them turn their back on him. It was nice to see a case where his actions had been appreciated.

Holgab came back only a few moments later. The big Illorc bowed slightly, "Master, what exactly did you wish my opinion on?"

Monarch smiled while motioning for his lead guard to sit across from him, "I am curious to hear what you have thoughts on. What am I doing right, where am I going wrong and when have I been a complete ass in my decision making."

Holgab pulled up a chair and sat down, "Master, with all due respect it is easier for me to remember what I thought was wrong than it is for me to recall what I agreed with."

"Fine!" Monarch responded with enthusiasm. "This chat may not change how I am doing things, but then again it might. I think what I need is a new perspective."

Holgab sighed, "Master the first thing I disagree with is how you have extended your self and your resources so far. You have an army down in Everone, you have a very shaky alliance of forces up here and you are supplying two of the warlords in Morden with yet more manpower and money. Vondum is a capable leader up here, but you have limited leadership in Everone and almost none in Morden. The only reason those two idiots in Morden have any pull is because you keep throwing resources to them which could be used to strengthen the areas we control now."

Holgab poured himself a mug of water and took a gulp before continuing. He was surprised Monarch remained silent so he continued, "We are getting returns up here from raiding caravans and we will make money when our forces reopen the routes up here, but we have gotten nothing from Morden. They should be sending you goods, slaves, and loot galore. After all, piracy and raiding is what the warlords are all about. Instead you send more and more money down there to keep them on the Council of Warlords. The only one doing you anything worth noting is that damned dark Elf and if your ties to him were ever discovered the Elves and Dwarves would send united armies to rip you limb from limb."

Monarch nodded, "They would indeed. Yet the Drow have gotten what they wanted from me and now are paying me back. The warlords I am supporting, and as you say bankrolling, used their fleets to navigate a path through and capture an isle beyond the Fire Rim Barrier Isles. The Drow have a safe place to build some sort of a nation again and must continue to repay us out of fear of us telling the rest of the world of their new base. I agree our ties to the Drow are very dangerous, but they are through the warlords and I have plans surrounding them.

Holgab thought this information over for a few moments before shrugging, "Very well. I guess my other major complaint is how we are handling the activities up here then."

Monarch seemed to straiten up a little. This was the information he had been waiting to here. "Please go on!"

Holgab shook his head as he took another sip of water. "I don't see any loyalty from your leaders other than Vondum and his men. The Orcs, Goblins, and Gnolls obey your commands out of fear, not loyalty. You have given them power, training, and the ability to stand up to the Humans, Dwarves, Elves, Halfling, and others, yet I have only heard them complain when you ask for something."

It took Monarch a few seconds to realize Holgab had stopped talking. Finally the Illorc Sorcerer shook his head and looked at the tent roof, "Your words have a strong ring of truth, but I don't see any way of forcing loyalty onto or into them."

Holgab shrugged, "You cannot force such a thing."

"What other option is there?" Monarch's eyes showed his interest

"With all due respect Master, you seem to fixate on brute force to solve problems. There are other ways."

Monarch leaned forward, "Go on."

"Over the last three years you have spent a great deal of time and money testing and training potential spell throwers, Swordsmen, and Animal Adepts from the various clans. We all know why this was necessary, Orcs, Gnolls, and especially Goblins don't have the percentages of Field potential beings as the better races such as Humans and Halfling, let alone the higher races such as we, Elves and Dwarves enjoy," Holgab took a breath and cast a spark Autospell into the fire for effect, "And the number of spell throwers they breed are truly miniscule."

Monarch nodded, "Yes. The whole point was to train every Field potential being. It was and is the only chance I had to turn the lower races into a viable force."

Holgab could see Monarch's thoughts were not going in the same direction as his so he tried a new approach, "Master, our people, including me, trained almost all of them. I know for a fact whom I could trust from those I trained and who was just in it for the rise of power and prestige within their clan."

Monarch's eyes glinted with sudden understanding, "With the right moves and backing we could put those you and the other trainers trust into power within their clans!"

"Yes," Holgab grinned, "then we could eliminate the current clan leaders. The clans would be slightly weaker for a while 3;"

Monarch cut Holgab off, "But they would be more loyal and would need our help. Their clans would see our help through the eyes of their leaders and we would gain even more loyalty!"

"Exactly, Master," Holgab sighed, "I hate to say this master, but the best thing to happen was the destruction of Orc Clan Raven and Vondum destroying the Gnoll Clan Wolf. We can point to Clan leadership failure and use it as an excuse to rip out the old leadership from other clans within the low races."

"Excellent idea Holgab," Monarch's voice stated with praise. "I need more thinkers like you. Find a replacement for yourself. You are getting a promotion to General, although one of your duties will still be to keep my personal guard at your high standards, I now want you at all strategy sessions from hence forth."

"As you command master!" Holgab saluted, and then he turned and exited the tent.

"Now how do I make 100 more of him?" Monarch asked himself out loud as he thought over what his new general's views of the overall situation had been.

Chapter 18

Once again, my heart-felt thanks goes out to Ragtopman for his help in drafting up a couple of sections in this chapter.

Jamon

Jamon went through his normal duties and made sure the rest of the slaves got fed. He looked up from the cooking fire as Sy came in with the Halfling boy Vondum had found in Slome. He could tell by the look on the boy's face he had already had quite a training workout this morning.

Sy nodded approval as he noticed most of the kids were busy, "There still be no sign of Kandric or Vondum?"

"No sir. I am beginning to wonder if I shouldn't feed Porma."

"Do so. If'n they show up I'll delay 'em givin' the brat the potion until nightfall."

Jamon nodded. "Sir is a slave allowed to ask a question?"

Sy motioned for Jamon to walk outside of the hut with him. After they were out of easy earshot of the others he smiled and winked, "Scream like you were just hit."

Jamon let out the best pained yell he could then looked at Sy questioningly.

"It'll stops the others from thinkin' they can ask questions whenever they want. You be the lead slave so I'll allow you to ask questions so long as ya remain polite."

Jamon's eyes flashed understanding and he grinned. "How come you act so different when Vondum is here?"

"Vondum found me and trained me when I be nothin' more then a young whelp runnin' around eatin' worms much like ya see many of the young'ans do here. But to be honest, many a folk around here woulda thought me had it good," he pointed to some kids on the edge of the edge of the cold swamp digging in the frozen mud to emphasize his point. "Vondum sees me cast a Autospell and takes me to gets trained. He looked me straight in the eye and says he be lookin' fer great things out a me. When I made it out a officer school, he take me aside and puts me in his own personal guard. I owes him lots, so I does what he likes, but it don't mean I approves of all he do."

Sy paused, "So what's really on yer mind?"

Jamon chewed on his lip for a moment, "I don't know how long I can prevent Conth from talking to his brother. I can't watch them all the time and I can't hurt either of them, I just can't."

Sy frowned, "Son, yer a slave, if'n yer owner want ya to hurts someones, ya have ta do it. Now having said the down side look at where ya were a few weeks ago to where ya be now! Yer life ain't a easy one. Being lead slave puts ya at odds with those below ya while really ya be no more then they be. Yet ya get a better life bein' a lead slave and you'll learn some skill if ya really put some effort behind the job at hand. Ya also got one other thing goin' fer ya, Kandric. He'll treat ya good an fair, but ya must do whats yer told.

"I can't tell ya what to do none, I can force ya, but can't just tell ya. But if I was you, I'd be willin' to dish out a bruise er two to keep what ya have. Besides, I'll bet money Kandric ain't gonna keep ya forever. Ya keeps goin' and you'll go free and have a good chance at bein' able to handle slaves in the future. It ain't a easy job, but it'll make ya a hell of a living and no one will ever care if you be a slave before or not, only how ya do yer job."

Sy looked stared into Jamon's eyes, "Think about how Kandric turned ya around. Ya went from a stubborn brat hanging on a wall to a real slave without him ever putting a whip to ya. Work from his example, not Vondum's. Ya can mold a slave or break one in. Kandric knows one can be molded and only moves ta real pain when everything else fails. He's gonna learn how to break a slave from Vondum, there be no doubt. Part of him even wants ta learn, but he has a heart. A slave handler can have feelin' they really can. But you need ta decide fer yerself. Look at the two examples of slave handlin' and decide what be best fer ya."

Sy paused more for effect than out of thought, "And remember, yer job is ta keep them other slaves in line and get the required jobs done. Anything else be window dressin'. Maybe, just maybe, ya should make them others do more of the stuff ya be tryin' ta do. Keepin' the others busy be yer best tool in keepin' everyone happy."

Sy patted Jamon on the back, "Sometimes it is easier to do the work yerself, but in the long run, yer gonna create more problems fer yerself."

Mylan & Klandon

Mylan looked over the goods in the general store again for about the tenth time and back at the list he and Yarney had put together with the help of their other partner, Sibler. They were all looking over the same lists in different parts of the city trying to figure out what to sell and what to buy.

There were some things they had agreed to sell the moment they could get rid of the stuff. The bulky and fragile glass items and silks had already been sold from all three of their wagons as had the valuable silver items. None of them figured such items would be useful in an area ripped by warfare even though they had never seen such an area.

The 8-year-old Shaman trainee rolled up his scroll and sighed. Truth be told, he had no idea what would sell other than food, everyone needed food and with a war going on food would surely be needed. The problem was, the others would certainly think of food as well. If they all carried food it wouldn't make them as much money because then there would be too much of it.

He glanced back at his guards. As always they were staying well out of the way while keeping close enough to defend him if necessary. He desperately wished he could ask them what he should be looking at, but their orders from Glaster were clear. No help was to be provided on the merchant side of things.

Frustration finally took over. He stuffed the scroll back into his belt and next to stormed out of the store. As he did so he bumped into a boy slightly older than he was.

The lad reacted quickly pushing Mylan back, "Watch where yer goin'!"

Mylan rolled his eyes, "Sorry, I was not paying attention."

"Sorry?" the older boy taunted, "Sorry? What are you some sort of Merchant sissy?"

One of the guards narrowed his eyes and started to advance only to be stopped by the other.

"Remember Glaster's orders. They get themselves into and out of trouble on their own. We are only here to protect from robbery or serious injury."

The guard nodded, "Yea, but he didn't really do nothin'. The other kid is 3;"

"This is the type of situation Glaster wants these youngan's to have to deal with. They need to know what life is really like outside of their comfy palaces."

As the men watched and talked, Mylan tried to walk away but was grabbed by the older boy. "Hey I ain't done with ya yet!"

Mylan shook free and faced the boy, "Yes, you are."

The older boy pushed Mylan down hard. "I'll tell ya when I'm done with ya!"

Seeing Mylan start to shake A couple of kids standing outside the shop moved over to stand with the other kid, "Ohh, the lil' kid is gonna cry!"

Just as the two guards were getting concerned enough to move forward another young voice came from across the street, "Back off!"

The two guards looked up to see none other than Prince Klandon walking toward the group. The stunned guards looked up and verified the boy's identity by finding his own shadow escort. The man and woman following Klandon looked every bit as astonished as Mylan's guards. Klandon's behavior toward the others in the caravan had been nothing but cold and standoffish. There was nothing to indicate he so much as noticed, let alone cared about, anyone but himself, until now.

The three boys looked at the newcomer with a mixture of humor and annoyance. Finally the boy who had pushed Mylan to the ground spoke up, "Hey if'n ya wants yer butt kicked too, come over and join us!"

Before anyone could react Klandon broke into a sprint right at the boy. His flying tackle took the boy completely off his feet and flung him to the ground with enough force to not only knock the wind out of the startled youngster, but also crack a couple of ribs as well.

Mylan, although nearly dumbfounded by the assistance, reacted with fighting skills drilled into him by not only his previous teachers, but also Glaster and his new teachers. Still down on the ground he swept the legs out from under the next biggest boy and tossed a handful of dust into the kid's face. As Mylan stood he kicked the kid with everything he had square in the mouth and nose. Blood erupted from a split lip and a broken nose.

The guard who had first tried to stop the altercation cringed, "Ouch! That had to hurt!"

The other guard nodded, "I'm not sure Mylan was going to cry at all. After seeing the boot he just nailed the poor brat with, I'm betting he was trying to contain some of the rage we saw when he and his brother fought!"

The last of the three boys who had accosted Mylan turned to run only to see Klandon moving to block an easy escape.

Klandon's eyes were narrowed to mere slits, "You want to mess with the only person who really gives a crap about wantin' ta be my friend? Well you ain't goin' nowhere until one er both of us is done with ya!" Klandon kept his eyes glued to the boy, "Mylan you OK?"

Mylan nodded, still astonished, yet extremely happy to have some vestige of friendship re-established with Klandon. "I will be fine cousin. Do you want him or is he mine?"

Klandon lip twisted up into an evil snarl, "After bein' such a jerk to ya and you still stickin' up for me, I'd like the honor!"

Mylan found himself smiling despite the situation and the horrible language usage of Klandon. "Be my guest!"

Klandon didn't hesitate he rushed straight for the older kid. Just before he came into range of the boy's prepared stance, he dropped and slid kicking up a large cloud of dust. The only reason anyone knew there was contact was the scream that followed a second later.

Klandon emerged from the dust rubbing his knuckles. "He'll be needin' an Healthman."

The four guards moved in to survey the damage. Within seconds it became clear all three of the older boys would be needing a Healthmen, Channeler, or Shaman assistance. The last boy was by far the worst off. He had a broken ankle and was missing his front two top teeth.

Mylan's lead guard looked over to Klandon's guards "What in the name of the gods got into yer charge?"

The female shrugged, "No clue. Klandon just came from a refugee village where he asked a bunch of questions about what would and wouldn't sell. He then came here and made arrangements for a large purchase of cheap wooden dishes and bronze eating utensils then came out here and saw everything. At first we thought his smirk was do to the fact Mylan was about to get his butt kicked, but then the other two boys joined and Klandon tossed down his weapons, jacket and pouches and ordered us to watch his things," the woman held up the assembled gear in her hands. "The next thing I know 3; Well, you saw the rest!"

A squad of town guard moved up and started taking statements. They kept looking at Mylan and Klandon with suspicion. Finally they walked over to the kids, "You two will have to spend a night in jail!"

Mylan's lead guard next to flipped, "FOR WHAT? They were defending themselves!"

At the same time Mylan's eyes narrowed and half snarled at the lead guard, "Which one of these thugs is yours? Point him out so I can kick him again!"

Klandon's lead guard cringed but stepped between the guard who had raised his hand and Mylan. "We'll deal with his mouthiness."

"Get out of my 3;"

Klandon's guard hardened. "City guard or not, you take a swing on the boy and I will be in jail with them and you will be in the Healthman shop with those three," the man pointed back to the three boys still sprawled over the street crying their eyes out. "Your choice, buddy."

Klandon held up his hand, "It's OK. We'll go to jail, but them three better be goin' too."

"Those three need attention, you two don't" The city guard growled, but lowered his hand and backed away from Klandon's guard.

Mylan's jaw dropped as he pointed to the three bawling kids "But they attacked me!"

Klandon put his hand on Mylan's shoulder. "It don't really matter none, does it cousin?"

Mylan looked over at Klandon in complete surprise, "I guess not. But 3;"

"But what? It was worth it, right?" This time Klandon's face wore a huge grin.

Mylan knocked off the dust from the original push to the ground and begrudgingly nodded, "Yes, as a matter of fact it was," Mylan's lips slowly twisted upward into a smile.

For the first time since Klandon's mother had died Mylan got a hug from the boy. Klandon once again grinned, "What da you say we try this friendship thing one more time?"

Mylan returned the hug, "Absolutely!"

The woman guard looked at the other three guards, "Umm, why don't ya'll go with em. I'm going to go get Glaster."

Mylan's lead guard nodded, "Good idea. Might want to bring one of our Healthmen for these three kids too."

She looked at the three boys all of whom were still crying and holding their injuries. "Good point."

Kandric

Kandric entered the Swamp Slums with a sigh. For most the place was dismal, but it was home for Kandric. Seeing Porma chained to Sy's steed next to the hut he had taken over he glanced up at Vondum, "Until right now I had completely forgotten about Porma."

"As had I," Vondum growled. "Do we unleash your much deserved vengeance tonight or do so in the morning?"

Kandric yawned, "I say we wait. It has been a long day between meeting with Monarch and the Governor. I just wish I didn't have to wait a couple of days to go back into the dungeon below the jail."

"The Governor had a valid point," Vondum stated, "the guards getting injured taking out the Gnolls have left Slome a bit shorthanded for a day or two. Besides, you have other matters to attend to including being invited to sit on a planning session with Monarch's generals tomorrow.

He glanced back to the War Steed Monarch had given him, "I guess. I also need to get Jamon's brother and the female slave Velert formally owned settled in."

"Too bad we couldn't find a buyer for the girl," Vondum added while looking back at his own mount carrying the girl.

"At least Velert's shop will make a perfect place for the guards to rent out kids who are in the jail. It was quite nice of the Governor to not only hand over everything Velert owned but to also completely sanction my new business venture with the guards at the jail."

"You didn't give him much maneuver room, Kandric. If he hadn't done everything you wanted his local guild would have looked very bad. Your agreeing to drop the matter in exchange for those concessions and him agreeing to drop the charges against the boy in the jail gave him an out and he took it. Still I don't see why you didn't just sell the girl to him for the offered 100 silver."

"It was a ridiculously low price, besides, I am sure my mother will be able to use her for duties in the small temple she is constructing. Actually, I think all of my slaves except Jamon will be staying behind under my mother's watchful eye. She will need kids to look after since my brothers are no longer around!"

"Probably a good idea. It is certainly safer to keep such valuable property relatively safe here than risk almost certainly loosing them in Everone."

Kandric stopped, "Speaking of Everone, I would like to bring a friend with me down there."

Vondum's eyes arched, "Really? Who?"

"A kid from the Slome. He has expressed interest in traveling with me even though I told him of the dangers."

"You don't need my permission Kandric."

Kandric swallowed, "Well, I kind of do. He is a good friend, but he is not as strong or nearly as gifted as I am. I may need your help to cover his back a little."

Vondum truly scowled, "Are you sayin' he may not be able to pull his weight?"

"He will try, and he already knows the basics of the situation we are going into, but 3;" Kandric paused and bit his lip, "But he doesn't know what it is like to really be pushed."

Vondum's scowl slowly faded, "Ahh, what you are really asking is for me to not behave completely trollish with what I expect out of him!"

Kandric managed a bit of a grin, "I would not have worded it quite so crudely, but yes."

Vondum suddenly lunged out and grabbed Kandric with tickling fingers, "So now I am crude am I?"

Kandric fell to the ground managing to take Vondum with him by kicking him in the back of the knees. Within moments a laughter filled wrestling match was taking place on the outskirts of the Swamp Slums.

Sy stood off to the side watching with a mixture of astonishment and humor. It was the first time in his life he could remember Vondum doing something silly and having fun doing so! Before he was noticed he slid back into the hut. "Jamon, go out and feed Porma something. It looks like he will have to wait yet one more night before his life really changes."

Falk & Lannet

"Are you sssscertain they are out there?" Falk whispered with a rather cheerful undertone.

"Of course. They believe they have set up the perfect ambush. I can feel almost hear their thoughts. They believe they are nearly ready. Why? Can't you sense them?" Lord Falk shook his head slightly under his hood. "I have been trying not to. If I allow them to creep up on usssss, it might make thissss into more of a game than a walk through a park. I may even have to expend a bit more than token energy. At leassst it could be entertaining."

Master Lannet walked beside his friend. He nodded. "Yes, it very well might make things more interesting. I suppose I could close off all telepathic input, even from my pets. We might actually have to make an effort," Both chuckled and shook their heads.

A moment later a bloodcurdling scream erupted from the dense trees ahead of them as several Hobgoblins launched themselves out into the open. Lannet sent a brief quiet signal and almost immediately the creatures disappeared again behind black blurs of motion. Master Lannet smiled knowing his winged panthers never gave the attacking wave of Hobgoblins a clue as to what had actually killed them.

Seconds later, another scream was choked off as the second wave of would-be ambushers ran from the trees to find their comrades nowhere in sight. In typical Hobgoblin fashion, lack of understanding gave way to aggression. The five hobs broke into a new charge at their two would-be victims.

Master Lannet watched the two on the far right fly abruptly backwards, propelled on twin spears of lightning. He never ceased to be amazed at his friend's power and expertise when wielding electricity. The Dwarf looked up at his companion, trying to see the face beneath the ever-present hood. All he could see, as ever, was the faintest hint of blue.

Turning his attention back to the battle, Master Lannet prepared himself to release his own power. Concentrating, he stared hard at the rushing brutes and selected what appeared to be their leader. The energy within began to well up quickly as he felt the synapses in his brain fire in a familiar pattern taught to him well over a century ago. The lead Hobgoblin dropped his axe and grabbed both sides of his head as the poor creature's mind tried to figure out why it was telling it to fall on its own blade. As the formally blood thirsty beast continued to fight the urge to kill itself, it forgot how to make his legs work and fell face-first to the ground. Finally its brain overloaded and its eyes rolled back. In an attempt to fight its urge to kill itself its brain simply shutdown, turning the attacking Hobgoblin into nothing more than a large infant who would have to start over learning everything from scratch.

The remaining two stopped and stared. Three of their number had fallen before they had even covered half the distance to their targets. Lannet reached out and felt their minds. Fear, panic, desperation, and above all else confusion were flowing out of them. Both leaned their heads back and shrieked in their own language. "Back-up," Lannet chuckled and shook his head. "Amazing, isn't it? Absolutely terrified, but still not bright enough to just run away."

Getting no answer, Lannet looked up at Falk. Falk was turned aside, speaking quietly to the darkness. Lannet looked in the direction Falk was speaking, but could see nothing. Reaching out, he tried to sense a presence, a mind, anything to indicate who or what Falk was speaking to. There was nothing. As hard as he tried to focus his mind master powers, he could detect nothing. Extending even further, out to the Astral Plane, he still found nothing.

"Do not fret, Massster Lannet. Your mind abilitiessss are not malfunctioning. I am talking to a Harkener of the High Guild Council."

A Harkener, a personal messenger and herald to the High Guild Council, was here? The leader of each Guild has his own personal Harkener, chosen and trained personally, and given special powers to perform their duties. Master Lannet could barley contain his excitement. "Are you joking?"

"I requssssted him to reveal himssssself, but he remains adamant about hissss master forbidding him from involving himself in any battle in which he wassss not ssssent here to join."

Master Lannet's face scrunched up in aggravation; "Very well then, let's get this over with!"

The Hobgoblins' backup had arrived. Five raiders emerged from the forest on the left and four more from the right and immediately joined the other two in a renewed mad charge. Lord Falk didn't even turn to face the attack; he simply raised his clawed, blue scaled hand in the direction of the leader on the left side of the dirt path. The smell of ozone fairly assaulted Lannet's nose and in an instant the animal adept sent commands to his approaching pets to deal with the four on the right.

The hairs on Lannet's arm began to stand on end as a searing light erupted from Falk's outstretched hand. The white hot bolt of electricity leapt across the clearing, striking the Hob leader in the chest. Instead of being thrown, the beast stood there shaking violently for nearly a second until, suddenly, two more bolts came from its back. The two bolts flew the short distance to his two nearest comrades, striking them amid-chests. And from both, two more fingers of lightning launched hitting the last four simultaneously.

Meanwhile on the other side of the road the four charging figures fell as four huge winged panthers swooped down soundlessly, their claws and teeth ripping the life out of the Hobgoblins before they had a chance to realize they were under attack.

In mere seconds the ridiculously lopsided battle was finished. Within moments the spell was over as was the need for the winged panthers to do more damage. Lord Falk's fingers closed, choking off the flow of power and ending the spell. Lannet glanced over the charred bodies of the Hobgoblins as his pets left the dead on the far side of the road and moved in cautiously, sniffing the air around what remained of Flak's victims.

Falk smiled, "Maybe we will get lucky and a real challenge will pressssent itself later," he turned his attention away from Master Lannet and spoke briefly to the air in a language Lannet thought sounded like Draconian. Before Lannet's eyes, the night parted, not unlike a curtain, and a man stepped through.

The Harkener was a human male, average height and athletically built. Lannet was never any good at guessing human ages so he did not bother to try. The figure had shoulder-length, dark brown hair and stern looking hazel eyes. He wore no guild insignia or indications of rank, but was well dressed in tan trousers, long brown cloak and brown tunic. On the tunic, however, Lannet saw emblazoned upon the chest the stylized eagle design of the Eagle Sect. Elvin Silver Steel bracers adorned his fore arms and he carried a staff which was obviously magical, as one end of it was glowing, giving off soft, warm light.

The Harkener bowed slightly to acknowledge Lannet, and then turned to address Lord Falk. A very proper move, as to do more in the presence of a higher ranked being would have been improper. From this moment on, Lannet knew he would be almost entirely ignored. "Lord Falk, I bring you greetings from The Supreme Sorcerer. He respectfully requests your presence at the Sanctorum."

The Sanctorum, Lannet thought. The other dimensional home of the High Guild Council. The Supreme Sorcerer was the highest ranked member of the Sorcerer's Guild and the leader of it. Few ever knew the name or identity of the High Guild Council members; they were only referred to by their titles. They almost never left the Sanctorum either. They conducted next to all of their business through their Harkeners. As far as anyone knew it was as close as a mortal ever got to becoming a god.

Lord Falk nodded gently, looking down at the Harkener. "I cannot help but wonder 3;why doesss the Sssupreme Sssorcerer sssend the Harkener of The Lord Warrior do deliver his communicationssss? Why not sssend hisss own beloved Harkener?"

"Forgive me, Lord, but The Supreme Sorcerer's Harkener was killed recently. He was on a mission to address a powerful sorcerer. The sorcerer killed the Harkener in defiance of the Council. My master, The Lord Warrior, out of friendship, agreed to lend my services."

Falk again nodded, then waved his hand before the Harkener. "Ah, so there is one less Legendary Echelon Sorcerer in the world?"

The Harkener smiled, "I believe you know the answer to your question Lord Falk."

Falk snorted, "Indeed I do, I should have worded it more asss a sssstatement than a quesssstion. Your communication be delivered. I will give the invitation thought. Now leave usss."

The Harkener bowed deeply and took one step back. Again, like a curtain closing, the night surrounded him and he disappeared. Lannet looked around the field as he and Falk began looking over the dead and collected what was useful. Master Lannet couldn't help but chuckle at his pets. They were feeding upon the charred bodies of the fallen hobs. Apparently Hobgoblins tasted better when cooked. As the winged panthers were enjoying their feast, Lannet sent them a message to catch up when they finished as they once again started walking towards their destination.

As they walked, Lannet spoke up to his friend. "Forgive me, Lord Falk, but I do not understand something. I have never heard of anyone being summoned to the Sanctorum."

"There probably be an explanation for thissss. To put it bluntly, it hasss not happened in nearly a century. "

"But then, if it is so rare, how can you be blasé about it?"

"Because, there be only one explanation why the invitation be ever put forth. The Council member wantsssss to retire, and he be looking for a replacement. There be the reassssson why he accepted the offer of the Lord Warrior. The Council membersss are very attached to their Harkenersss, but Harkenersss do get killed occassssionally. The Sssorcerer Sssuperior could have easssily found a replacement, but apparently decided to retire inssstead. Asss for the invitation, I must deliberate over it carefully. For to accept the invitation be to accept the offer."

Lannet walked on in silence. The very thought of his friend possibly becoming the next Supreme Sorcerer was a mix of conflicting emotions. Falk was Legendary Echelon, high Legendary, and was widely considered one of the highest ranked sorcerers in the known world, yet an offer to become the Supreme Sorcerer made him wonder just how powerful Falk was. Lannet glanced one more time at his companion. Matters were certainly getting more complicated lately.

Together the two travelers continued on through the night both wondering what was really going on. The Supreme Sorcerer wanting to retire at the same time the gods were becoming more and more directly involved with mortal affairs had to be more then a coincidence didn't it?

The Alphar Court

Salostar opened the door for his Prince. He took a deep breath and glanced over at Kolarian. Getting a nod the pair entered the Grand Council Chambers of the Alphar leadership and took a stance of guards behind their liege.

Already the room was filling. Each of the Alphar princes and princesses were taking their seats around the pure silver table engraved with each of their coat of arms. As with their own Prince the two guards noticed all the others brought exactly two guards with them. There was no conversation as the last of the royalty filed in. Finally a series of chimes sounded and the assembled royalty stood as if one.

From the far side of the room a pair of Alphar wearing Elvin Silver Steel Chain armor escorted in a woman of amazing grace and even more stunning looks. She looked over the room and preformed an Elvin bow. As if all the other royalty were attached to stings held by one puppet master they all swept down to match her.

She at last stood and raised her hand. The chimes again sounded and the assembly took their seats again perfectly timed. She smiled, "The Alphar court is now in session for the first time in over 50 years. It is my pleasure to announce all royal families have grown in number and strength. May the glories of the Alphar nation ring with song and joy."

With formalities over the woman took a seat and gestured to one of her own guards. The man stepped forward as unrolled a scroll. "This meeting has been called by Prince Rovanall of the great house of Wellaras. Prince Rovanall, it would please this court if you would step forward and take the floor!"

Prince Rovanall stood and bowed until the chimes once again sounded. He then moved forward to take a stand at a silver and gold podium. As he did so two banners dropped from the ceiling, both adorned with his family crest.

Throwing back his green robe to show his silver and emerald royal breastplate of his armor, he made a bow. "Thank you my queen. May long life and the Glory of the Alphar Kingdom continue to shine on your splendid rulership."

The woman smiled, "Please tell this honored assembly of the need for this meeting."

Prince Rovanall shifted, "As you all know I was forced to expel my daughter from my court several years ago. She was my oldest and therefore in line to take over for me upon my death. This action weighed heavily on my heart, yet in keeping with the Alphar law I had no choice. I kept her oldest in my home as a servant from the time he was born. Unfortunately, he too had to be expelled because my daughter used her Alphar heritage training in an attempt to aid her Human husband. Even though her actions failed to save his life, my decree was her son would only remain in my court as long as she maintained a mundane existence."

The queen nodded, "This we all know as your runners sent us written updates as to your actions. Still we thank you for refreshing our memories. So, why call a meeting requiring all the great houses to attend over an internal family matter?"

"Highness" Prince Rovanall bowed again, "The internal family matter has been rectified by my daughter's ability to properly raise her children without any influence of her heritage other than an occasional helpful nudge from my people. Unfortunately matters closer to home kept me very much overwhelmed and unable to keep proper tabs on my estranged daughter and her children. Recently, I was once again able to send my people to check on them, only then did I realize the need to bring them back into the Alphar nation!"

The queen frowned, "There is no need for a vote of any kind for you to bring your daughter back to your house, Prince Rovanall."

"Highness, I understand this. However, there are complications. I would like to allow two of my personal guards to come forward and explain, for they can far better put forward the situation for they have witnessed it first hand."

"This is a most unusual request Prince Rovanall," The Queen sounded skeptical, "is there any protests to this request?" Although many of the other assembled princes and princesses glanced at each other none spoke before the chimes above sounded an end to the allotted protest time. The Queen stood, "Very well, your request is granted. Have them approach me!"

Prince Rovanall bowed again, "Salostar, Kolarian, drop your guard weapons where you stand and approach Queen Jostallas!"

The two exchanged startled looks while complying with the order. They advanced and bowed in unison upon reaching the edge of the green carpet surrounding the Queen's throne.

Queen Jostallas stood and took her scepter from the holding spot on her thrown chair, "The queen looked deeply into the eyes of the two Elves and hid a smile as she saw some of their confusion. She decided an explanation was in order, "This court has strict rules of evidence, first only those who have been eyewitness can testify before it, this is do to the fact the podium is magical and prevents outright lies. Second, only permanent members of high royalty with land holds may speak to a full assembly."

The queen touched each Elf on the top of his head with the scepter as she continued to speak, "Because only upper members of royalty may address the Alphar High Council, I grant you both the position of Count. I also grant you each a parcel of land covering half of Mount Redfox meaning between the two of you, the mountain is now completely owned. The mountain is in the middle of the highlands of our territory and is raw untamed land. The two of you will have to decide on how to divide up your new lands. Now you may address this court!"

Salostar was first to take the podium. Although still reeling from his sudden and meteoric rise in power within the Alphar hierarchy, he managed to explain the hardships of becoming trained in the human world and the fact three of Kaylaria's boys were well beyond Primary Echelon. This revelation caused a rare round of astonished and disbelieving mutters to roll over the royal court.

Salostar pressed home the point of how powerful the boys were by informing them of his eyewitness account of how Kandric and his mother teamed up to destroy a cloud demon in a single volley of magical energies. As he looked over the assembled Royal leaders of the Alphar nation he noticed more than a few spell casters looking at their own hands as if to wonder if they had such powers within themselves.

Kolarian then took over telling the assembly of what he witnessed and just how advanced the other boys in question were by telling of the attack on the caravan and the subsequent assistance by the gods themselves. Allowing the new round of mumbled statements of disbelief to fade, he took a deep breath. "The facts are not nearly as simple as you have heard so far. Everone is a focal point of something major, yes, for as you have heard even the gods have taken a personal interest. It is our belief this constitutes a need to send in real Alphar forces to help them."

A roar broke out in the room as several started stating their own opinions; it took four full rings of the chimes to bring some semblance of calm back to the hall.

Queen Jostallas stood, "This is a bold statement, but simply having three royal blood Alphar moving on a central location led by the gods is not reason enough, at least in my opinion, to send out a call for arms."

Prince Rovanall shook his head, "I am willing to act alone if need be, for this is my own blood line we are talking about. However, my queen, there is one last detail the council needs to hear. Kolarian, please finish telling the court what you know to be fact about one of the figures involved in the background of the events revolving around Everone."

Kolarian took a step nervously to the side, "This is not just about three Alphar of clear royal heritage engaging in some sort of supreme battle for unknown reasons. We have first hand accounts of a Drow of at least Expert Echelon abilities being involved, a Shaman by the name of Gardagem."

The silence was complete as this last announcement was made. Several of the older faces turned pale while others looked around in bewilderment. Prince Rovanall was taken off guard by the sudden deathly quiet, "My Queen, am I missing something?"

Queen Jostallas pulled a silk handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her brow, "Indeed, Rovanall, indeed," the mere fact she did not address him by proper title said far more than her shaking voice did.

Prince Rovanall frowned when nothing else was said. Looking around, he could tell he was not the only one in the dark over this matter. It seemed all of the younger princes and princesses were at an equal loss as to the sudden mood shift. "I believe those of us without knowledge need an update."

Prince Fallindor, the oldest member of the High Royal Court, stood. "Prince Rovanall, the name Gardagem is not one we ever wanted to here again. Indeed it is a name we thought would never have to be spoken of again," Seeing he was about to be interrupted he held up a hand to stop any questions. "Give me a moment to compose and I will fill you all in."

Prince Fallindor used a cane to help him as he moved up to the podium, motioning everyone else to take a seat. As he did so, the banners behind the podium were raised and those with Prince Fallindor's family crest fell in their place as he finally made it to the podium. "To understand you all must first put up with a little history lesson, one you will not find written, one we hoped would never have to be told!"

Prince Fallindor pointed to Solastar, "Young Count, would you please fetch a few servants and have them bring wine and fruit. We will all need the wine to ease our nerves and the fruit to calm our stomachs as this information is handed out."

Solastar looked over to Prince Rovanall. Getting a nod he hurried out of the Great Hall. He didn't know what was going on, but judging by the mood of the older members of the Royal Council, something terrible had reared an ugly head, and it really bothered him he had been one of the news bearers. Even though he was still responsible for Prince Rovanall's protection, keeping himself in one piece was becoming more and more of a concern as the thoughts of the age old adage, "Do not kill the Messenger" kept running though his head.

Prince Fallindor waited for the servants to clear out and took a sip of the wine in front of him. The hall was uncomfortably silent as he finally started speaking. "This starts at the end of the Elvish Dwarvin war some 1000 years ago. We forged a treaty with the Garm. The lower Elves and Dwarves fell in line quickly; however, the Drow refused to acknowledge the treaty and continued to fight. In their bloodlust, they turned their weapons on all of us, Elf, Dwarf, Garm, Alphar, it made no difference to them. As their support wavered and defeat seemed a possibility their desperation grew. They changed tactics, singling out the Garm. In the following couple of decades the Drow hit the High Dwarves hard by sneaking into strongholds and poisoning wells, executing unarmed parents in front of their young, and are some rumored cases of them even slitting the throats of children in their beds. They forged a new motto, words which sadden our hearts to know they were spoken by those who had Elvish blood. In simple terms it stated: The only crime is allowing a Garm to live."

"The Alphar court was shaken to the core as the Garm brought reports of the Drow's deeds to our attention. At first we did not believe, but we stuck to the treaty and sent our people to investigate their claims. In short order the truth of the Garm's claims became all too apparent. The final draw was an assault on a Garm stronghold which was helping protect Human and Halfling refugees from a major Orc offensive on the edge of the Silver Spine Mountains.

"The Drow got inside somehow and killed everyone including the refugees. There was evidence the Drow had forced hundreds of children to walk up to the top spires of the stronghold and either forced them to jump or pushed them off one by one while their parents watched helplessly tied to posts where they were later burned. This lead to the days of rage where anyone with even the slightest of Drow blood was hunted down and executed by Dwarves and Elves alike. As word spread, the lower races of Halfling and Humans joined in the hunt. It didn't take long before a rumor of someone having Drow blood in them was enough for execution. Realizing things were totally out of control and spreading, the Garm and Alphar councils met and hammered out an alliance.

"Together we, the Alphar, and the Garm mounted an all out attack on the Drow capitol, Under River. We succeeded in wiping out all resistance leading to the city, but the city itself proved to be impossible to capture. There were too many passages and the Drow knew them too well. Making matters worse, the Drow leadership had somehow convinced the non-Drow residents they were to all be executed by us so support within the city of Under River was united against us. We withdrew. However, we managed to close up Under River – lock it up. In their weakened state the Drow could hold their city, but couldn't prevent us from locking them in forever. The locking up of Under River, of course, is in our history books. However, the rest remained unwritten.

"There is yet one more event which leads directly to our renewed concern. In addition to the fore mentioned non-written history there was another event no one wanted talked about. Just over 800 years ago a Drow, one who was certainly part of the slaughter inside the Garm fortress, managed to get out of Under River when we sent in a scouting party. He killed eight of us, four Garm and four Alphar. We tried to track him down, but he escaped and we thought he went into hiding. In reality he traveled the world searching for pockets of Drow who had survived the slaughter of the Days of Rage. It took him 100 years, yet he finally managed to gather an army with a goal to reopen the sealed entrances Under River.

"We found out about this army and attacked. It was a battle never written about because we, along with a Garm forces, wiped them out. We didn't take prisoners. We didn't allow any mercy. Nor did we simply stop with their army. Every single Drow man, woman and child associated with the force was killed. Yet we still didn't even draw the line there. We also killed every slave, every human supporter, every monster race supporter and their families as well. Our forces were still not satisfied. We had drawn a final line against the Drow and were not going let the Drow regain a foothold in the world ever again! We continued the purge to include every village in the knolls so there was no chance of any word of the battle getting out. Neither us nor the Garm wanted the world to know the Drow posed any threat out of fear word would spread and other Drow would come out of hiding and try it all over again. It was only by luck we found out about the planned attempt to reopen Under River in time to react as it was. It was also the last time Garm or Alphar forces were used in battle. Today you know the place as the Split Rock Knolls in the deep swamps just above the Silver Spine Mountains."

Prince Fallindor took a long gulp of wine then continued. "As much as I would love to say the story ended there, it does not. As we wiped up the traces of the slaughter as best we could, we came across the body of the Drow who had originally escaped from Under River. In his belt he had a scroll, a letter from someone who was watching and training his son in the arts of being a Shaman. The child's name was none other than Gardagem. In a written reply the Drow had not been able to finish let alone send, there was mention of the boy, Gardagem. It seems his father had had a map tattooed on his son's arm as to the location of a secret entrance into and out of Under River which the scouts we had originally sent in had found and how he had escaped from its depths. Over the centuries we have had no luck retracing the steps of the doomed patrol nor have we ever found a way in to Under River other than those we have sealed. Apparently the boy didn't know what the tattoo was, but in the letter were instructions to inform the boy what the weird markings were."

Finishing his wine, Prince Fallindor shook, "The younger races tend to forget and Drow, although looked down on and generally hated, are not outrightly attacked any more. The Drow have a chance to slowly rejoin our world, but Gardagem holds a key which could well reestablish a Drow Kingdom and it sounds as if he is powerful enough to do so. Worse yet, he may already be building forces to support one. While we tolerate the existence of some Drow living independently, we cannot allow a new Drow Kingdom and there is no way we can allow the old one to resurface! The news we have heard today is of the gravest sort. We must inform the Garm and prepare to assist the three young Alphar!"

Queen Jostallas nodded nervously, "I see no choice, we need to reopen the Hall of Friendship for the first time in almost 500 years and ready it for a joint Alphar Garm council meeting. I fear we may also need to send word to the Garm of the possible need to reopen the Hall of Strength for a joint Garm Alphar war council meeting!"

Queen Jostallas held up her hand to keep everyone quiet, "In the meantime I expect each of you to prepare troops to send into a coming war. Prince Rovanall, from your words I gather you were ready to act alone if so allowed?"

"I was and am my Queen," Prince Rovanall bowed.

The woman nodded, "Excellent! I give you authority to commence operations to help your grandsons in any way necessary without outrightly revealing the aid is coming from the Alphar nation. Because of this I expect only half the troops we would normally require from your house."

Startled, yet pleased, Prince Rovanall stood, "I understand my queen; I can begin by week's end."

Queen Jostallas then turned to Salostar and Kolarian, "I order you to return to Prince Rovanall's grandsons and render full aid to them. Which of the three is in the least danger?"

Solastar gave it some thought, "Highness, Kandric is the most powerful, but all of them are in clear danger."

The queen frowned, "Very well, one of you take this Conner the other take Aster. You are to be their guardian angles from a distance. Find any threats to them and eliminate them before they can get close. I will send one of my own specialists to do likewise for this Kandric," Standing she bowed, "This court is dismissed. Stay close, however. The Garm will not take long to arrive once they hear from me!"

Kandric

Kandric woke and stretched as he did so, he could feel the cold leaking through the cracks of the small hut muttered, "Alright, Syria, you can let spring get here already," Vondum snickered and rubbed Kandric's thigh under the blankets, "I hear you. You realize it snowed yet again last night?"

Kandric played with Vondum's manhood, "This is crazy, the planting day is only a couple of weeks away and not only has the frost not broken the snow hasn't stopped falling!"

Vondum nodded, "Indeed. You would think with your killing of the ice demon, the world would be a little less cold wouldn't you?"

Kandric giggled, "Yes, one would think there should be a link," he shuddered slightly as he started to climb out of bed, "Gee it is cold!"

Vondum shook his head, "Stay under the blankets, I think it is time you leaned something about having slaves."

Kandric raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

Vondum grinned, "Watch and learn my splendid boy!"

Taking in a deep breath Vondum yelled out, "Jamon, Conth, get in here!"

Only a few moments passed before Jamon, his young brother and Conth all came scurrying in.

Vondum looked at Jamon's brother, "Teaching him about his new life already?"

Jamon lowered his eyes, "Yes sir."

"Good. You three gather our clothing and warm them over a fire. When they are nice and comfortable bring them back in and dress us."

Jamon pointed to the clothing, "Grab everything and let's get to work."

Vondum noticed Jamon did nothing other than give instructions and looked at Kandric as the boys hurried out. "Have you talked to him about being a lead slave?"

"No, why?"

"Because he is either learning very quickly or is getting some coaching. He is giving the orders and not doing the work."

"Should I be happy or mad?"

"Happy. You need a lead slave who gets things done by using the others. I'll bet Sy talked to him. The only question is did he ask or did Sy just get a sudden case of being too nice. He has a bad tendency to help more than he should sometimes."

Kandric laid back and enjoyed the feel of skin on skin until the boys came back in.

Jamon ignored Conth and Vondum, instead concentrated on instructing his brother on dressing someone else. The young boy was at first embarrassed, but the constant pressure of his older brother pushed him past his modesty instead focusing him in on doing what was required.

Kandric felt more than a little silly, but the feel of warm clothing on such a cold morning was a wonderful sensation. As he watched the boy struggle to do what his older bother was telling him he couldn't but help admire the boy's looks. His dark brown eyes, pug nose and long sandy hair coupled with his look of concentration and frustration was absolutely adorable.

By the time Kandric was fully dressed Vondum and Conth had already left the hut. "Jamon, have you told your brother anything about what I may want?"

Jamon looked at the floor and kicked at the dirt, "No. Please just let me 3;"

Kandric looked down at the cute little boy looking back and forth between them, clearly wondering what he was missing. Kandric held up his hand, "Do not worry, it will be his job to dress me and have my clothing at a proper temperature every morning and undress me every night. He is to be ready for bed and in a nightshirt before his nightly duties, and he is to be put to work keeping my hut, cave or campsite clean and a fire going when needed. Once in a while I might give him a bath, and when I do I expect no complaints or questions about where my hands go. Those are his only duties as long as you continue to perform up to standards and keep the other slaves in line. Otherwise I may start expecting more out of him. He will be joining both of us as we go down to Everone so I will need you to select one of the others to take over while you are traveling with me. Last but not least he needs to fully understand my rules for slave conduct, especially about when he can eat. Any questions?"

Jamon knew Kandric was basically giving his brother a free ride as a slave as long as Jamon did what Kandric wanted and would basically demand anyway. Jamon's eyes glinted with relief and joy, "No questions. I will get things set up as you wish!"

Conth came back into the hut with a plate of food, "Kandric, here is breakfast. Vondum wants to know when you will be ready for Porma."

Kandric frowned at the mention of Porma's name, "As soon as I am finished eating. Part of me is looking forward to seeing what Vondum is going to put him though while part of me feels sorry for the kid."

Conth swallowed hard, "Don't feel bad for him, He has been nothing but trouble since I first met him."

Kandric didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "It amazes me he ever had any friends," Shrugging, Kandric took a bite of dagger boar, "Inform Vondum I will be there shortly."

Kandric entered the slave hut and saw Sy was tying Porma securely to a board. The boy continued to resist, but had no real chance against someone with Sy's build.

Sy at last stood up, "They be as tight as I can make em Vondum."

Vondum's grin was the cruelest thing Kandric could ever remember seeing. "Good. Looking down at Porma, Vondum held up a bright yellow potion. Don't worry those ropes will be nice and loose by the time this finishes it work.

Porma didn't know what was it was going to do to him but his eyes were filled with terror. He tried to squirm but he couldn't move at all. In fact the ropes were so tight they were cutting off his circulation and making it almost impossible to breathe.

Vondum looked over to Kandric, "This honor should be all yours. Hold his nose shut, shove this in his mouth and hold his lips closed he will have to drink before he can breath again."

Kandric looked into the boy's eyes and felt a pang of guilt but the memory of the iron dagger being pressed against his skin flooded his memory. Quickly he followed Vondum's instructions and held his hand over Porma's mouth until he saw the boy swallow a couple of times. Letting go of the older boy's nose he let him breathe for a few seconds before once again clamping down on his nose. "Swallow all of it!" Kandric shouted at the helpless teen.

Vondum's lips twisted upwards, "Excellent. Now stand back, watch and listen."

Kandric took a few steps back and stood next to Vondum and Sy. A few moments later Porma's face contorted in pure agony. Seconds later the boy's body started making popping noises. Porma started screaming as he felt his bones shrink inside his body, then the rest of his body seemed to shrink as well to fit the new bone sizes. As this occurred, the boy's stomach slowly started bulging more and more. It started in his hands then his arm and finally his shoulders and chest. Finally the potion went to work on the boy's upper legs, lower legs and lastly his feet. Just when he thought it was over the bones on his face started crunching. It wasn't until he stated feeling his adult teeth literally popping out of his open mouth because his jaw was shrinking to a size too small for the bigger teeth to handle before he realized what he was feeling was not an illusion, it was really happening. He passed out still screaming.

Kandric watched wondering what was happening. At first Porma's body looked like it was going soft, loosing its shape, then the boy's skin started shrinking. With each round of shrinkage the boy's stomach puffed further out until it was hugely out of proportion with the rest of his body. Kandric cringed as he wondered at what point Porma would explode. It took almost an hour before Kandric found himself looking at a boy, with a massively extended stomach, who appeared to be no older than 7.

Vondum nodded in satisfaction as he saw the now younger version of Porma was still breathing, "His gut will reduce in size after he throws up a few times and uses up the rest for food. One of the side effects of the reduction in size is all the excess is transferred to the stomach," Vondum rubbed his hand over Porma's soft face with a smirk, "I prefer to keep them just a little older; I guess this mixture was just a tad hot. Makes no difference, though. I gather you can still use him can't you Kandric?"

Kandric was almost at a lose for words. "Umm, yea," shaking his head to clear it a little his voice strengthened, "Yes, Yes I can still use him. Did the potion really make him younger?"

Sy answered, "Ya. The magic drink reverses agin'. Normally it take 15 years off er so, but we used one which was suppose ta be less than half-power. As Vondum say, I guess it was mixed just a little hot. On adults it just revitalizes them and makes em appear younger and gives them their youthful strength back, but used on someone too young it actually turns them back into smaller kids. They keep their memories, but somehow the effects reverts em back to a younger kid in the way they act as well as look, this'll make it easier ta retrain the brat ta be more like a slave. Vondum's house slave has gone though this four times now. If'n you saw him now you wouldn't probably not recognize him none. We tested the drink on him first, he appear ta be about 8 once again."

Vondum shook his head, "You know with each use the potion works less well so you should have known it would hit this kid hard," Vondum chuckled as he shrugged, "At least my boy is back to looking nice and cute!"

***

Monarch pointed to a small area north of Slome as he continued his briefing, "We continue to meet with heavy resistance from Banderlock's Hobgoblin forces in several areas. The most difficult to explain is here in this area around Slome. Every single time we send in a force they seem to slip through our fingers and vanish. We now know, thanks to Vondum's and Kandric's reports of the Mythling gate, why we were not able to properly secure the deep swamps. In the other areas we have managed to destroy some strongholds, but not all of them. But here around Slome we have made exactly zero progress and where they are based remains a mystery.

"Until we completely secure all the areas between here," Monarch pointed to a map showing the beginning of the Silver Spine Mountains, "and here," His pointer moved to the beginning of the Deathland Mountain Range, "We will be hard pressed to send too many forces south to help our Lizardmen armies."

A round of muttering broke out around the table as several of Monarch's generals started quiet disagreements over how to best handle the overall picture

Vondum sat and listened, but otherwise ignored the command staff. He knew the decision had already been made by Monarch. He would send down a couple of companies of Illorcs and two full clans of Orcs to assist. They would get there through the Mythling gate opened and operated by Kandric. The real argument was how to best protect the Silver Spine Plateau without the reserves in place to back up units already in the field. Since he would be going through the gate with Kandric, the area above the Silver Spine Mountains and those who lived in the Plateau didn't really matter to him. Black Rapids would not fall and since it was his only true concern none of this mattered to him in the slightest.

To take his mind off the fact he badly needed an excuse to stay away from Black Rapids for such a long period of time, he looked down at Kandric. He started wondering, not for the first time, if it was a good idea to let the boy sit in on a war council meeting with Monarch. It wasn't the fact he didn't trust Kandric, it was more the fact Monarch was so quickly taken by the boy's charm and intelligence. Vondum knew he had missed something in the original exchange between Kandric and Monarch, which in and of itself worried him some. Yet the bond which had developed between them came not out of friendship, but out of mutual respect.

Respect, Vondum thought it over. Monarch was not one to grant respect easily or quickly. What had really happened and how did it translate into Kandric being offered a chance to see the inner most workings of Monarch's plans? Granted, the war council was being devoted to details about which Kandric had already found some information on, but still 3;

Vondum's thoughts were interrupted by Kandric's voice, "Sir, may I interject a point here?"

Vondum held his breath for a moment wondering how Monarch would react to a child bringing up a question in the middle of a battle planning session.

Monarch frowned deeply for a moment as several of his assembled Illorc leaders turned to glare at the youngster. Monarch remained silent for a moment as he watched Kandric stare right back at the beings; most of whom were well over twice the boy's size and easily outweighed him by quadruple. One by one they blinked while Kandric's stare never wavered.

Monarch's frown slowly twisted into a smirk. "I see it is my own people who are balking first when staring at Kandric. Maybe we should all take a drink and let the boy say what is on his mind."

"It's them eyes," one of the company commanders stated with contempt, "it's like they cut right through ya!"

Kandric snorted, "I have spells and a sword for cutting through things. My eyes just look for targets."

This brought a round of snorts and chuckles from the assembled command staff.

Monarch nodded with a crude sounding snort, "Well worded young Shaman. Since you not only out-stared my people, but also out sparred them with words I give you the floor, make your point."

Vondum clenched his fists and dug his fingernails into his palms to keep his face neutral. Kandric was treading on dangerous ground. He had stolen the show and now all eyes were squarely on him. Attracting such attention was dangerous for a seasoned adult, let alone for a boy not even into his teens in equivalency years.

Kandric looked at the map again then picked up one of the pointers lying next to the map. "With all due respect, you are going about this in all the wrong ways," he pointed to Slome and the Swamp Slums, "Let me start here. Over the past few months we have seen our food supplies diminish to almost nothing yet one caravan managed to toss out months of effort on your part."

The commander for the forces around Slome grunted, "Ya ain't tellin' us anything we don'ts already know boy."

Monarch held up his hand, "Let him finish. I give you time to talk things out, thus I expect you will grant this young man the same courtesy."

Kandric gave Monarch a slight bow then continued before others could speak up against him. "What about trying something completely new, something which would take more money but use a great deal less manpower?"

"Such as?" Holgab asked.

"Such as," Kandric grinned, "buying the food stores of caravans before they reached any of the towns."

"Yer insane boy! We'd run out a money in no time!" The general for the area east of the swamps complained, "We need the loot just to keep our troops in supplies and money!"

"I understand," Kandric assured the massive Illorc Swordsman, "but there is a simple law in caravan trading, supply and demand. If there is a great enough demand, there will be someone who figures out a way to get the supplies there or die trying. Eventually some supplies will get in."

Monarch interrupted, "We expected as much Kandric, but we figured we could keep out enough to put a stranglehold on the region."

"You still can if you really want to Master Monarch," Kandric grinned.

Monarch's eyebrows shot up in a quizzical fashion, "Then please continue, for even I do not see the light at the end of this cavern."

"The land is still hungry," Kandric pointed to the four main passes leading up the Silver Spine Mountains to the Plateau, "the Caravan brought hope and will continue up and around making a single trade pass under a Black Rapid's flag. Now is the time to get your symbol out there."

"I cannot Kandric," Monarch sighed, "The land is not ready for an Illorc savior."

"They do not have to be," Kandric's grin turned a little more fiendish.

"Really? How?" Holgab wondered aloud getting several nods as he spoke his thoughts.

"Work from a mysterious side. Do not let others know who the flag belongs to, just fly it as you pull up caravans laden with supplies you buy before the merchants can reach any of the towns. With all the caravans you have attacked and wagons you must have captured you could even stage fake attacks on your own wagons enhancing the belief you are a new force here to save the people from the forces which have been starving them out. Merchants who don't sell you goods you want to monopolize you can then attack if you so desire, others you can let go, and even use your forces to drive off attacks aimed at them by other forces under your control. The goods you buy can then be sold at a higher price and you make money in what will appear to be an honest way."

Kandric paused long enough to take a drink of water, "Then, if everything I have heard about this Bandurlok is true, he will have to start attacking your caravans and wagons flying your colors. When this happens you get to expose him as the real threat and then you can step into the light and show who is the one protecting the people of the Silver Spine Plateau."

Kandric used the pointer again and tapped on Slome, "The only real threat lies here. For Slome is the gateway of one of the four main passes up the Silver Spine Mountains, and it is the only pass you do not control with a Silver Steel hand. Because of this, Bandurlok's forces can destroy the plan before it can even start."

This time Vondum spoke up, partially to show he was not going to back Kandric blindly and partially to give the boy a less hostile challenge than some of the others most certainly would. "Kandric, I don't see the point to your plan. We don't control the pass up to Slome thanks to the last caravan and the area around Slome is not controlled by us. We need all four passes for your plan to hold any water."

Vondum's comments brought a round of nods from all but three beings around the table. It was interesting, Vondum noted, the three heads which didn't join in belonged to Holgab, Mofto (hand in a splint from Kandric's earlier cold snap spell) and most importantly Monarch.

Kandric's eyes glinted with an almost evil cunning, "This is true, but you fail to see my point Vondum. We don't need to worry about those other areas. Let Bandurlok make strongholds in these other areas away from the passes, it gives him bases to launch the attacks from. All Monarch's forces have to do is prevent them from getting too deeply established. By pulling some of the forces out of these other areas the reserves can be maintained and moved in to each area when or if Bandurlok manages to get a little too strong for the locals."

The Illorc commander for the far northern areas next to the Deathland Mountain Range snickered, "If ya expect da local folk to handle Bandurlok's force you be a fool. We'll end up movin' reserves around from one place ta de next just to keep him in check!"

Monarch's lips twisted up in a sly grin, "Which is exactly what would work to our benefit. Bandurlok keeps up the pressure and we knock over his house of twigs only for him to build another one. The peasants up here see us trying, and succeeding to an extent only to have to come back and do it again, and again, and again 3;" Monarch's voice trailed off.

Although most of the command staff failed to see how this looked so appealing to their leader, a few facial expressions slowly changed from a frown to resentful admiration. Mofto, Monarch's lead Mystic, was first to speak. Although still very angry at Vondum and Kandric for the attack on one of his breeding bases, the man saw the advantages to what the child was suggesting. "This would allow our own forces to get plenty of combat and hone their skills while making us look good to the people up here. The land still stays under a boot of oppression, but the appearances make it look like the boot is not our own. Then, when our Half-Illorc forces are ready, we move in. We'll then crush most of Bandurlok's forces while leaving a few pockets so the peasants up here still need us. This frees up all sorts of forces for other tasks including gaining control of the Slome pass and makes money from what appears to be honest trade.

"The very fact a caravan is under the flag of Black Rapids and is moving deeper into the Plateau could be the start to this new plan. It has been hit hard and survived. Now all we have to do let them spread the word about Vondum and Black Rapids moving to help the population. We wanted Black Rapids as the capitol of the new kingdom anyway."

Vondum nodded, "And with no heir, I could well be handed the seat of power there. My absence from there now may be a tactical error."

"Nonsense!" Monarch next to bellowed. "Your absence can and will be explained by your quest to eliminate Gambra and your help of the surrounding areas in their great time of need. As a matter of fact, as Captain of Black Rapids military, you could impose a tax on the surrounding countryside. If they wish to keep getting supplies from caravans flying your colors, they will pay. A quarter of these collected funds you could give to Black Rapids coffers, half could go to me so I could fund the buying of the goods we want to control, and the last quarter could go directly to you and Kandric. You would then be paying me, legally, and thus my colors could join Black Rapids on caravans. I see no reason why you have to announce whom your ally is except to say your ally agreed to assist and send forces to the region in exchange for being able to fly a standard on all protected caravans.

Kandric took a deep breath, "I guess there is no longer a reason for me to speak since the rest of my ideas are already out there."

Vondum pushed his chair back from the table, "I tend to agree with my Wilderness Scout. Master Monarch, what do you think of this plan?"

Monarch slowly nodded, "I hear much wisdom coming from the mouth of this youth. I also see how his mind is working to help his own people. You have found a true leader here Vondum, I just wish the rest of my people could find such henchmen."

Monarch then turned to Kandric, "Young man, your potential is boundless. Keep true to yourself and your allies and you will go far."

Monarch stood, "Holgab, get this boy a command medallion. From now on he is part of my forces as well and will be treated as an officer in my military," he then glared at the rest of the staff as they started to grumble, "If you disagree I suggest you try him out in combat."

Before anyone in the room could speak the mystic stood. "Don't even go there," Mofto warned, "Been there, done that, and lost. And frankly speaking I have no desire for a round two. Any of you who do, might want to consider there are only three higher Echelon spell casters in this tent."

Holgab grinned, "Along with three others who are the same Echelon, and none of us were able to react as quickly as Kandric did when Master Monarch was attacked. Any of ya want to challenge the boy I'll bet money, and it damn sure won't be on y'all."

Vondum chuckled, "My money will be with the bodyguard here."

The general for the local forces snorted, "Then ya all best toss yer silver on da table, cause I ain't lettin' no brat bein' able ta tell none a my forces whats they can do!"

Monarch put his head into his hand, "Dylar, don't be stupid."

The massive Illorc pulled a war axe, "Shut up Monarch, yer law is we can challenge any officer appointment!"

Vondum nodded, "True. Kandric drop him."

Kandric felt his eyes go wide as the huge Illorc moved toward him. He couldn't believe Vondum had basically thrown him to the wolves. The worst part was he didn't even want to be one of Monarch's officers. Kandric managed a small glare at Vondum as he pulled his sword from over his shoulder."

Monarch's eyebrows shot up, "Boy, yer fighting a Swordsman, you ain't got much of a chance weapon to weapon."

"If he is a properly trained Swordsman, he will toss my first few spells," Kandric replied as he backed out of the tent, "So even if I do this by spells, I will need to be able to defend."

Monarch stood as he watched the boy back out of the tent. As soon as Dylar exited, he turned to Vondum, "You don't seem too concerned."

"He wants to run with the big boys," Vondum grumbled as he followed the rest out to the open area beyond, "so I figured he needs to learn what life is like on the top."

"You are risking his life when you could stop this."

"I am and I could," Vondum agreed, "but he has made his own way thus far and I don't help my scouts unless they are badly outnumbered or out manned. Kandric ain't either."

Elsewhere in the tent hasty bets were being taken. Holgab offered double odds on Kandric and found himself having to get help from Mofto to cover those who were betting against the lad.

Kandric dodged the first swing as he moved out deeper into the snow away from the tents. "You swing like a Swordsman trainee!"

Dylar bellowed in anger as he charged. His swing went way wild as the nimble boy dodged well out of his reach. As he spun to face the boy he barely managed to block a swing aimed at his non-weapon hand. "Boy, yer blood is goin' ta flow like water!"

Kandric smacked the Illorc's next attack downward getting his left hand scratched by the spiked tip on the axe. This gave him an opening though and he took it. His blade came up and hit the general in his underarm in the open area between the plates of armor. Blood oozed out of the wound as he backed off shaking his hand.

"Dylar, call it now. First blood has been drawn on both sides!" Monarch shouted. "Never! I will not let his deeper wound of me make him the winner!"

Kandric used the momentary distraction to call on help. Enough was enough and his hand hurt a great deal more than he wanted to admit. He spoke softly, "Slow him by just a step so I can cast. It need not be more than a step or two."

A gust of wind seemed to whip around the command tent and slam into the Illorc general. The wicked gust knocked him back a full step while pushing Kandric, much more gently, away from the axe-wielding beast. Kandric's eyes hardened as he spoke, "General, you should know one thing about good spell casters."

The general braced for a spell and switched his axe to his off hand do to the wound in his armpit of his weapon hand as he replied, "What?"

Kandric snorted, "A good caster knows how to bypass magic defiance," With those words Kandric twirled his hands and pointed at the snow under the beast's feet. A blast of flame shot out of his hands followed a split second later by his amazingly fast cold snap. The results, not directed at the Illorc, but instead at the snow under him eliminated any chance of magic defiance defeating the dual assault.

The general, standing firm found the combination of spells melted the snow and reformed it into ice locking his feet into a small but very effective block of ice. As he struggled to pull free he watched in helpless fascination as the boy moved around behind him. He tried to twist to block the sword swing, but his attempt only caused the youngster to adjust his attack.

Holgab found himself ignoring the incredible spell casting display as his eyes took in a Swordmanship display worthy of being taught in schools throughout the land. So impressed at the boy's sword skills was Holgab he actually found himself wanting to applaud as the last ditch defense was brushed aside by a counter parry which turned into an offensive thrust straight into the back of Monarch's general. More than a few of the other command staff around Holgab gasped as they realized the sword thrust had gone clear through the thick plates of armor and out the front.

Kandric placed his foot on the dying Illorc and used the extra leverage to pull his Frozen Flame blade loose. With a nasty glare he twisted the weapon as he removed it. Shaking with a combination of anger and fear he glared at the astonished and stunned officers. "Who is next!"

Monarch shook his head, "My guess, my impressive sword toting Shaman, would be no one."

Kandric wiped the blood off on the tunic of the general. Once satisfied the blade was indeed clean he expertly sheathed it in a single move.

"Umm, Monarch?" Holgab managed to speak.

"Yes?"

"Our battles aren't supposed to be to the death."

"Yea," Monarch agreed, "Maybe Dylar should have explained our rules to the lad before pulling a weapon on him."

"Do we call a Healthman or Channeler?"

Mofto moved up to the fallen general, "Such actions will be of no help. The boy's blade effectively gutted him."

Kandric muttered a curse as he cast a healing spell on his hand, "I have not even agreed to become one of your officers. After this, I am not so sure I want to be one."

"I will leave the decision to you," Monarch stated with a degree of aggravation. "All I really want is your guarantee you will be ready to put my forces through the gate in one week's time."

"I will be ready, just make sure your armies are there," he paused long enough to shoot an arctic cold glare over Monarch's entire command staff, "And make sure the leaders you send are better than this moron!" He kicked the dead body and spit into the snow.

Holgab pulled a medallion off the fallen Illorc and tossed Kandric the officer's pendant. "Take it kid you earned it!"

Kandric slid the Elvin Silver Steel butterfly with an inlayed star sapphire into his pouch. "I will consider if I want to wear it, but for now I want to get back the Slums to see my family before I look into some passages under Slome," Kandric's voice dripped of disgust and spite as he turned his back and walked away from the group.

Vondum held back a chuckle as he looked at Monarch red face, "Don't worry. Once his anger subsides he will wear the pendant."

Monarch unclenched his fists, "He has spell and weapon skills the likes of which are the making of legends."

"Yea, tell me about it. The first day I met him he dropped more Hobgoblins single handedly than I did. His abilities have saved my command base two times and he would have stopped the Gnolls attack on the caravan without me. He is beyond good."

Monarch nodded as he watched the pair leave. Once he was sure Kandric and Vondum were out of earshot he growled a shout. "Holgab!"

"Master?"

"Assign an elite team equal in abilities to the one protecting Vondum. I want them to actively sniff out and stop any plots to assassinate Kandric. I sense greatness and if I do, so will Bandurlok. It is only a matter of time."

"Agreed, but this is the first I have ever heard of this child. How can this be?"

"I don't think the guilds have a clue someone this young is powerful enough to best an Expert Echelon Swordsman with no more effort than a trained being would smack around a mundane Kobald."

Holgab swallowed, "His Swordmanship was outstanding, I have never seen such grace and speed outside of a Swordsman or a Warrior Adept. What do we do about replacing Dylar?

Monarch sighed "Give his command to his Captain. Kandric has a point, after all. He certainly can't do any worse of a command job," he paused as he shook his head, "Oh, speaking of this area, give the command more men. Kandric's plan will only work if we gain control of this area quickly,"

Holgab suddenly grinned and half joked, "Or we could just tell Kandric to go after them and see what happens."

Monarch's eyes glinted, "An excellent idea! Offer him a huge reward. If he takes up the quest we will rope him into being part of the command."

Holgab nodded understanding, but frowned. "What would be a good reward?"

"The only thing I have seen, which motivates him, is helping his precious Swamp Slums. I suggest we offer to help his slums. It would make a good base for protection of caravans and give the people there an income base. If he agrees, we will build a fortress, dig proper wells and offer jobs to the people who live there. If he helps root out the problem, then he will get ownership of the fortress and thus gain trade profits from it."

"You are basically offering to thrust him into being a merchant prince!"

"Yes, and we would still win all the way around."

Monarch's smirk was one of the most fiendish Holgab had ever seen. "I'll make the offer later today. Let him calm down first."

"Agreed. In the meantime set things in motion to transform those deplorable Swamp Slums into our newest fist. This fort will be the first in a campaign to get my colors out without revealing who is behind them."

Aster

Aster heard the alert from one of the night watchman just as he snuggled into Pocet's side after an evening of lovemaking. His body, still tired from a long and passionate series of sexual acts, seemed to cry out in anguish. The last thing he wanted was to jump out of bed. Instead he really wanted to continue to rub Pocet's manhood and kiss the man's chest.

Pocet's muttering told Aster he too didn't want this moment to be interrupted, but he sighed and grabbed his sword. "Let's get into some armor and head topside. With any luck we will be able to undress each other again and start all over again!"

Aster rolled his eyes as he grinned, "One thing about being a kid, I need more sleep than you!"

Another shout sounded from on deck.

Aster pulled on his undershirt and turned to help Pocet buckle his armor on, "Sounds serious, wonder what is going on?"

Pocet held up his arms so Aster could properly secure his armor, "Agreed. Pontarious' people are too good to shout out false alarms."

Aster completed the job and turned so Pocet could help him with his own armor. As the last parts were secured he heard the sound of metal on metal, "Shade go topside and help! We have combat on the ship!"

Pocet pulled out his sword, "Yea, which most likely means river pirates. I'll go topside, you check below decks to make sure everything is secure."

Aster growled as he watched Pocet run toward the stairs. He grabbed his axe and made his way down the passage looking for intruders who may have made it below decks, "Why does everyone want to protect me all the time?"

Aster made a quick sweep on the crew deck then made his way down to the cargo holds. As he entered the far aft hold he saw a slender figure slide down a rope with a dagger clenched in its teeth. He grinned as he spoke, "I have always heard stories of pirates with blades in their teeth, but I never actually thought it happened."

The figure froze then seemed to relax as it saw who was speaking, "Boy, ya ain't so smart holdin' no axe against a trained bein'."

Aster shrugged as he advanced on the Halfling female, "You would be far better off climbing back up your rope and forgetting this little raid."

The woman chuckled, "Ya be tryin' ta tell me I needs to be worried over this tub after we took a whole village? Yer boat can't even move none, we got the toll chain still up!"

Aster shook his head in disgust, "Maybe killing you won't make me feel bad after all."

The woman grabbed her dagger from her mouth and leapt at Aster. Aster didn't even blink. He made one step to the side and buried his Axe all the way into the woman's chest. Planting his foot on her lifeless body he withdrew the blade and noticed the dagger shimmered lightly. Kneeling he examined blade. "One standard, yet magical, Dagger of Attack," he muttered as he grabbed the woman's sheath off her belt and placed the weapon in it.

He glanced around then decided to take the rope up top to see what he could do to really help.

Getting on the deck he found a real mess. There were no less than twenty enemy on the barge and they were rapidly gaining control of it. Looking back he could see they had no chance of getting below because the men and women of the of the Thunder Rapids had drawn a line the robbers couldn't hope to get past, holding the middle of the line was none other than Pontarious himself. Protection of the family of the crew was clearly their first goal.

Aster selected another woman, this time a Human, and moved in. A single backhand with his Axe sent the hapless pirate spinning over the side of the ship. Suddenly a man's hand started to glow and he extended his fingers at Aster.

Before he could react, Sardan swooped in front of the imminent attack. Aster helplessly watched a spiral of flame shot out toward his friend, only the spell never hit its mark.

Sardan spun his blade at the magical flames and much to the amazement of everyone watching the spell impacted the blade and stopped. It just spun; a large ball of fire spinning in the middle of the air in front of Sardan like someone had grabbed it out of the air and held it in place. Sardan's eyes narrowed, "Now it is my turn to play with your magic!" rearing back his sword he smacked the ball of flame, sending it zipping across the deck striking a pirate getting ready to finish off one of the Thunder Rapids' crew. The flame exploded on impact and sent the burning pirate over the edge.

Pocet had actually closed his eyes as he saw the spell about to be unleashed. He knew the target had been Aster, so he didn't actually see what Sardan had done to stop the spell, but he did see how the Hawkling had batted it. He moved in a straight line toward the caster before the man got another chance to hit either Aster or Sardan with a spell.

Another pirate intercepted Pocet, but Pocet ignored the Dwarf, instead he thrust his sword past the dwarf and into the back of the caster. The Dwarf bellowed in anger and sliced Pocet's leg with a dagger.

Aster saw this and screamed in rage. His axe came up and took off the arm of a Halforc swinging a club at Sardan. His cry was instantly heard and heeded by both Shade and Frost. Instinctively, both animals knew what Aster was upset about and lunged at the Dwarf. Shade's claws dug into the Dwarf's side while its jaws crushed the Dwarf's shoulder. Frost was equally viscous. Its talons ripped into the Dwarf's gut while its beak went strait into an eye socket.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the deck, Conner plunged his hand into another spell caster's throat and literally ripped it out while Sagell's Fairy Dragon's claws ripped right through the backbone of a Halfling trying to sneak up on Conner.

Morale of the pirates collapsed as their best were eliminated in a matter of seconds. They tried to flee, but the crew of the Thunder Rapids would have none of it. Those who didn't surrender were killed.

Klandon & Mylan

Glaster entered the jail and saw Klandon and Mylan talking in one of the small cage-like cells. He looked over at the boys' guards, "They seem rather content, any problems?"

The Dwarf assigned to Klandon shook his head, "Nothing other than both of them being a little mouthy to the guards about how unfair it was to be locked up when the kids who attacked Mylan to begin with weren't."

Glaster snorted, "I see nothing wrong with those actions at all. They deserve to be allowed to be a little mouthy over this injustice. Rest assured the Magistrate of this two bit town will be in for the surprise of his life when my dispatch to the king gets to him. The worst part is I even tried to talk to him. He wouldn't budge, saying our boys had inflicted serious injury to kids in his town and he wouldn't stand for such deeds to go unpunished. They are to remain here until dark. They then have to spend tomorrow here as well. At least they do not have to spend the night here."

Glaster glanced over to the cage again, "They sure seem to be getting along all of the sudden."

The Dwarf nodded, "Like best of friends. Klandon has even handed over information on what he found out when he went down to the refugee village after he made it through the combat course. It was a gold mine of information and he is basically giving it away. I have no clue what changed, but according to the two who were with Klandon at the village they thought he was crying a couple of times but he hid it well enough to prevent them from knowing for sure."

Aster

Pocet propped himself up on his elbow and watched Aster bundle the furs around himself and leave the makeshift smith shop to clean up down by the river. The fight on the barge along with the barge striking the toll chain left the Thunder Rapids short on healthy crew and in need of repairs. The Pirates had taken out the small village and the kingdom's river tax collecting fort so Pontarious ordered his people to secure the area and take over the buildings for themselves. This at least provided somewhat comfortable lodging and repair facilities while the Thunder Rapids was being worked on.

Pocet smiled as he lay on the bed despite the recent run of bandit trouble. His mind was not on the negative events of the last few weeks; instead he had to ponder on his recent good fortune. True, his employer, the man who hired Pocet to protect him, had gotten killed. Besides this failure, however, things had gone very well. He was now a member of the Junsac Barony Watch. This was a dream of his since his childhood come true. He was part of a team, an elite team which stood behind each other and the kingdom under King Wyhrem's control. This singular honor should have been the pinnacle of his life, but then there was Aster.

He got out of the padded cot and stretched, reaching up towards the high ceiling. His rubbed the bandage on his leg lightly while he shifted weight from the injured leg to the other. The wound wasn't serious, not more than a flesh wound. Aster had done a marvelous job cleaning and dressing it, but now Pocet needed to really work the muscle. He needed to exercise it to keep the muscles from knotting up or worse yet betray him when he needed his combat skills the most. He began a slow dance around the room, stretching various muscles, flexing others. His motions brought him to the other side of the room, where he and Aster kept their gear. He picked up his sword and scabbard and began wrapping the belt around the hilt.

After working for several minutes, he had finished. The scabbard was firmly affixed to the hilt of the sword, effectively doubling the weight of the weapon. Pocet then walked to the middle of the room swinging the sword in great arcs. He brought his weapon to the standard ready position and held it for several seconds, eyes closed. He then began a new dance, a slow motion battle with invisible foes. Slashes, parries, blocks, turns, stabs were all done at an agonizingly slow speed. As Pocet worked his body, running through all the styles he had mastered, and those he was still learning. He felt his leg wound stretching and even burning slightly. It felt good, like he could actually feel it healing.

So intent was Pocet in his practice, he hadn't even noticed his observer entering the building. At first Sardan stood outside the door watching Pocet twist and turn, pirouette and pivot, lunging and fighting non-existent enemies. Satisfied by what he was witnessing, Sardan at last entered the building noting the singe bed had certainly been occupied by two the previous night.

Pocet jumped and spun when Sardan cleared his throat, coming to a near perfect defensive stance. He relaxed quickly when he saw who it was, then grew red when he suddenly realized he hadn't gotten dressed for his workout. Dashing to the bedside for his trousers Pocet nearly fell over some of Aster's clothing, making Sardan chuckle in amusement. It was an odd sound, Pocet thought as he pulled up his pants and tied the rope. Easily recognizable as laughter, but a sort of honking chirp.

"You humans and your strange modesties. I do not know if I'll ever understand it."

Pocet looked sideways and smirked, "An odd statement coming from someone who wears such fine clothing. What can I do for you, sir?"

"I came to speak to you, but I got caught up in watching you. Should you be training with your injury?"

"The injury isn't serious enough to do more than remind me to dodge a little quicker the next time. Besides, I need to keep the blood flowing to the muscles to keep them from cramping. Plus, I enjoy it."

"Then please, continue. As a matter of fact I would like to join you," Sardan drew his falchion and assumed a ready stance as Pocet moved beside him. Pocet continued as if he hadn't stopped. Sardan moved along with him, matching move for move, moving at the same snail's pace. Sardan kept glancing over at Pocet, though. "I notice you still have the scabbard on your sword. Are you afraid you'll cut yourself?"

Pocet smiled at the teasing. "My teacher taught me this rather odd trick. It nearly doubles the weight and makes workouts more effective. It also makes the sword itself feel lighter in battle," Pocet watched Sardan match his every move as he ran through the various styles. "What did you want to speak to me about?"

"I watched you during the battle. I was quite impressed. You are certainly very skilled."

Pocet stopped cold and stared at the Hawkling. "Me, sir? You're impressed with me? I am amazed with you. How did you deflect the magic? I've never seen anything like it."

"Few have. Fewer still can do it. There are things about being a swordsman few know about. Secrets, if you must call them. Most young swordsmen do not live long enough to learn them. Tell me, quickly, how would you fight me?"

Pocet jerked, startled at the sudden question. "Well, sir, your weapon is a falchion. Your chosen blade is a very heavy, powerful weapon. But it is a longer range weapon, not good for up close fighting. So I would try to get inside the reach of your sword. A falchion is also too powerful to block with a longsword. So once again I would adjust my normal fighting. I would deflect or dodge your swings instead of trying to block them. Lastly I would try to injure one of your wings, so you couldn't maneuver as well, so I could stay inside."

"Excellent. You can size up an opponent quickly, determining his strengths and weaknesses in a few seconds," Sardan strode over and picked up Aster's axe. He brought it over and handed it to Pocet. "Tell me what you can about this weapon."

Pocet took the axe and turned it over in his hands. "It is an amazing weapon. It is considerably lighter than it appears. The blade has a strange looking angle, curving down and in, almost to the shaft. The shaft is also curved, like a scythe."

"What do your observations tell you?"

"By sliding the stroke, with the handle leading the blade, you can increase the cutting power. Chopping and slicing at the same time. Its design is very deadly. With good skill it also makes the axe more effective in close. The lighter weight is for a wielder with less strength. Usually dwarves and the larger races use axes, but this one is used by an elf. Yet it is perfectly balanced and light enough for a young elf to use."

"Impressive. You have mastered how to appraise not only a weapon, but the wielder by the weapon."

Pocet blushed slightly. "Well, I sort of cheated. I've been studying this axe for some time. I have also watched Aster in battle. Which, I believe, makes it even more impressive."

"Forethought is not cheating. Instead you are taking advantage of advance knowledge. Listen, there are many things unknown about swordsmen, and I believe it is time for you to learn them. Most people in this world believe we swordsmen are the weakest of all those blessed by power. We are the most numerous, but most feel since we have no flashy power, we are mere fodder. This is not true. Those wielders of magic who know the true potential of Swordsmen have reason to fear them."

"I don't understand, why should magic users fear us? We cannot use magic, nor can we fight it."

Sardan shook his head. "Use magic, not really. Well this is not completely true, for we do have the ability to damage creatures with a mundane weapon which can normally only be hit with magic. However, fighting magic, yes, we can most certainly fight magic! No matter the guild, every being blessed by magic has a certain amount of magic defiance. The ability to resist magical attacks. Of all the guilds, swordsmen have the strongest resistance to magic. When we reach higher echelons, we gain the ability to manipulate the magic defiance, even to make our weapon part of it. As you saw me do earlier today."

Pocet stood shocked. "Why was I never told this? My teacher was an Expert, certainly he would have known this."

"Most certainly. However, although all Swordsmen have the ability, it is not strong enough until they reach high Secondary or Teaching echelons. A young swordsman armed with this knowledge could become reckless, engaging a foe far more powerful than he should ever attempt to engage. Thus, before he is taught this, he must first master other aspects of being a Swordsman. He must first have learned to be cautious, to size up an opponent and gauge the threat. He must prove he can survive and learn. It is better for the young beginner to believe what people say about us. If he believes he is little more than fodder on the battlefield, he will live longer and be smarter," Sardan chuckled, "There are a few teachers who train their students in this art, but they tend to have fewer students make it to the higher Echelons." Pocet sat down on his bunk, thinking. It made sense, in a way. Nature prefers to balance. Mages and sorcerers were fantastically powerful, rare as they were. It made sense there would be something opposite and equally strong or at least something to balance the scales of the Fates. He looked up at Sardan. "Why tell me this? Why you, why now?"

Sardan walked over and sat next to him. "As I said, I watched you, and you impressed me. I saw you were ready to learn the truth. And I am ready to take an apprentice."

"But you have several apprentices already. The lad you brought with you, Quavis."

"No, not a student, an apprentice. Another part of being a swordsman. An advanced swordsman can take an apprentice, to teach him the advanced aspects of our guild. A swordsman is expected to take at least one apprentice in his life. Usually after he achieves Expert, certainly by Master. The apprentice must be Teaching Echelon, or very nearly. I've never taken one, but I suppose it is time. I am asking you to be my apprentice, when this mission is over."

Pocet worked hard to keep the shock from his face. "What 3; would I have to do?"

"Be my traveling companion. To the world, you would be an assistant, helping me with my students. However, in private I will teach you all I know, every secret which was ever taught to me, everything I've ever learned. You would be my constant companion. The leadership of the Watch would grant special dispensation to us, and you would gain status in the Watch as my apprentice."

Pocet was dumbstruck. This was truly an opportunity of a lifetime. To be taken under the wing, so to speak, of a senior Watch member, and to be taught the things he'd seen Sardan do. The chance to advance rapidly within the Watch. It was all so tempting. But 3; "But it'd mean I'd have to leave Aster."

"You feel strongly for him?"

"Yes, of course I do. He is incredible, and a little intimidating."

"I don't understand, why would Aster intimidate you? It is obvious he enjoys your company."

"Well, first there's his animals. Those critters are scary. His wolf, Shade, the thing just isn't natural. I'm not jealous, or really scared of them, they just make me a little nervous."

"To have any other reaction would worry me," Sardan winked, "I have known Aster and his pets for several years, and I still find Shade a little 3; disconcerting."

"And then there's Aster. Do you have any idea how strong he really is? He's almost half my size, but nearly as strong. Beyond this, however, are his battle skills. I'm Human, we advance far faster than Elves. Yet I've been adventuring as long as Aster and he's already Teaching echelon. Not to mention the fact he's the best Healthman I've ever run across," Pocet stopped, "Don't get me wrong here, his Healthman skills are very much appreciated, but they are still a sight to behold," Pocet patted the bandage on his thigh. "Then there is the Metalworker side 3;"

Pocet got up and went to Aster's axe again. "Take a closer look at it, sir. Tell me what you notice." Sardan hefted the weapon and looked closely all along its length. "I must admit, I have never gotten this close a look at Aster's creation. I 3; I believe I see what you mean. From a distance, the blade looks like Elvin Silver Steel. But it is not."

"You are quite correct, sir. It isn't Dwarven Blue Steel, either. It's Eldwar Steel. A perfect blending of Silver Steel and Blue Steel. Lightweight, super strong, the rarest of super alloys. I had a friend who was a metalworker, he told me about this stuff. It's nearly mythical. It takes about six months to make, and it is so difficult to make even those who know how to make it don't like to waste the effort when over 80 percent of the time it fails to hold its form and separates back into its two different metals. There are only seven or eight metalworkers in the world who know how to produce it, and none less than Master Echelon. Yet, Aster has told me of his time with the lizard men after they gave him the axe. They took him to the being who made the axe because it was not properly sized for him. Aster learned to not only remake this axe into something more suitable for himself, he also learned how to make the raw metal. The price for this Eldwar Steel weapon could buy an island."

Pocet paused, then pointed back to the axe, "There is another thing about the axe, it is perfectly balanced. Not just for an elf, but for Aster specifically. It is perfectly made for his height, strength, arm length, everything. The weapon you are holding would not be as deadly in the hands of anyone but Aster. He could have the richest in all the lands hiring him to make their weapons; he could be stupidly wealthy. He has everything going for him, but he likes me."

"Above all else it is this single fact which intimidates me the most. As incredible as Aster is, and he wants to be with me. Me!"

Pocet pointed over to the forge, "Take a look, Sardan, just take a peek inside the forge."

Sardan stood up and put the axe back where it had come from. He moved over to the forge and looked inside to see dull glowing embers and the beginnings of a longsword being melded out of an Elvin Silver Steel Short Sword and a Dwarven Blue Steel Scimitar. There were pans on either side collecting some of the runoff from the two weapons as Aster worked to carefully meld them into one. "For you, I assume?"

Pocet nodded. "Yes. Both blades were lightly magic. Aster captured them when our caravan was attacked. He is destroying two extremely valuable weapons and attempting to create one supreme weapon for me! From the first moment he had free after their capture he has been working on this. He wants me to have the best, and I don't see what I have done to deserve it."

Pocet heard him give his odd chirping, honking laugh again. "I'll never understand the relationships of humanoids. I gave up trying a long time ago; it hurt my head. You are not as plain as you believe yourself to be. While it is clear Aster enjoys your company, why question it?" Sardan put his hand on Pocet's shoulder. "If you agree to be my apprentice, you may well have to leave Aster, for we will travel far and wide. There is no guarantee Aster will stay as part of my watch team. It may be years before you see him again. You must decide. It is not a decision to be made lightly. Think about it. I will not require an answer until this mission is finished. Just think about my offer."

With those words, Sardan left the room, leaving Pocet with a mind far fuller than it had been in a long time. He laid back on the cot with his sword on his chest. He looked over and saw Shade walk through the wall! The creature had blood around its muzzle and fore quarters, obviously from whatever animal it had just eaten. Pocet watched it pad over near the portable forge, plop down and begin licking the blood from itself.

Pocet turned back, and for the first time in his life, pondered hard on his life.

Meanwhile, Sardan moved off to think about what he had just heard and seen. Aster was more than just gifted. Master Lannet had warned him not to underestimate the boy when he first was approached about allowing a child to work with his team for a mission. At the time Sardan had scoffed at the old Dwarf. His scoffing had long since ceased, yet the more he found out about the boy the more he started to agree with Pocet. There was something intimidating about the boy.

Glaster

Night fell as Glaster watched Prince Klandon sleep. The day's adventure and time in the jail had taken much out of the child, but the poor child couldn't get a good night's sleep. This was the third nightmare the boy had endured this night alone. He could tell by the thrashing on the bed and the clenched fists alone, yet he did not need those signs. The boy's voice told of his confusion, his fears, and his sadness came out in words muttered softly while fighting the demons only the boy's mind could see and hear.

Glaster used his shaman powers to enter the spirit world and look at the boy from within them. His careful observations told him nothing was attacking the boy. Glaster almost wished he had found an evil Dream Weaver attacking the boy from the spirit world, at least then he could do something to help. As it was he could do nothing but watch and listen hoping the rambled mumblings would reveal something about what was wrong within the boy.

Exiting the spirit world again Glaster continued to observe Klandon while he went to work on the spell pages with the edges coated with blood captured from the Dark Mage. Spell pages, edges coated with blood, was a dead giveaway to spells derived from darkness and given power by the taking of life. Each one of the pages was bonded to someone or something and each time the spell was used more of the being died until all the life force was used up. Then the unfortunate being fell over dead. Glaster shook his head as he cast a Destroy Magic spell on the first page and watched it burst into a bright red flame. Beings consumed by dark magic never really died, they just became playthings for a demon their exhausted life energies drawing in a demon like a dog is drawn to the smells of a hunk of meat cooking over a fire. The being becomes nothing more then a permanent slave to the demon who claimed it unable to ever die, only suffer. The red flame told him the being this spell had been given power by had been one of those unfortunate ones. Now, at least, this being could die and its eternal torment would end.

Glaster Cast another Destroy Magic and watched the paper turn black and crumble. This time he smiled, the being linked to this page had not yet died and was now free to live out the rest of his or her life without losing life force with every casting of the spell. Glaster sighed; he wanted to destroy all the pages, but to do so would use up too much Force, the last four pages would have to be destroyed over the next two days.

Glaster's attention was once again redirected to Klandon as the boy entered a new phase of a nightmare, his voice was hard to make out, but as Glaster knelt and got closer the words could be made out.

Kandon's voice shook in terror, "No more, me can't cast no more. There be nothin' left." There was a pause then he once again started mumbling, "I know he be more better, but I can't cast no more." Klandon curled up into a ball on the bed and shook his voice begging for a beating to stop then finally in between whimpers Klandon gasped out, "OK, one more 3; one more 3; one more," A smoke puff erupted from Klandon's sleeping hand, sweat beaded on the young boy's forehead and he slipped into a true unconscious state.

Glaster put his hand on the boy's forehead. The boy was hot, and his breathing ragged. "Forced casting," Glaster wiped the sweat off the boy's head as he shook his head, "Casting beyond what a body can handle. It will improve or kill a person. Why force a boy of such a young age? Who was or is better than him and for what reason?" Glaster asked himself as he reviewed what he had found out about the young prince up to this point.

Suddenly Klandon jerked and his voice was easier to hear, "I don't like it here. I want my old home back!" the boy thrashed in bed again as he once again spoke, "I don't care about no war, I wanna go home, they're just pirates!" Klandon's back arched as he let out a few shrieks. "I'm sorry. I'll do what ya wants!" finally the newest nightmare seemed to end as the boy slumped down into a more fitful sleep.

Glaster rubbed his chin for several seconds before realizing he needed proof of the nightmares being true before he could ever hope to get down to the bottom of any of this. Glaster stood and cast a very powerful nap spell before he yanked off the blankets then stripped the boy. Even as Glaster started looking for any signs of scars, he couldn't help but take in the beauty of the now naked boy. Glaster gritted his teeth as he started the inspection of the young Prince, "I need to find a boy for a night or two before I decide one or more of the boys in the caravan can serve me in more intimate ways."

Turning his mind away from lust he focused on the task at hand. Even though he concentrated on looking over the body for marks he couldn't help taking a few moment to caress the smooth skin of Klandon's butt and groin. As his hand lingered on Klandon's boyhood his eyes caught sight of two thin strips on Klandon's back. Closer examination revealed a Healthman had removed scar tissue but had not managed to eradicate all of the prior damage.

Glaster chewed on his lower lip, "So the nightmare with the arching back was real, he was whipped! There is no way, even while on the other ship, you could have been subjected to such beatings without your father's knowledge. This leaves only two options 3;"

Glaster moved over to a table and grabbed a glass of wine, taking a sip he continued his musings aloud, "One, your father has lied to me and you were subjected to punishments far beyond the use of a whipping boy, which is extremely unlikely. Or two you are not Klandon, but a duplicate, and as improbable as this sounds it is the only explanation for the events leading up to King Wyhrem's call for assistance."

Glaster's frown deepened as he grabbed the boy's ankle and looked for the runes he had placed on Klandon shortly after the boy's birth. What he saw made his blood run cold. The runes were in the wrong order. His mind drifted back to the day he had come in to make the protection runes on Wyhrem's family. Wyhrem had been first, then his wife, then Klandon, then the already ailing Zoldon. Zoldon's breathing had been ragged and he was not expected to make it though the night. Because of this Glaster had put the first rune to be a protection against diseases because he figured there was a chance, even a slim chance, the boy had a sickness which could be healed. The other three all got a protection against poison first, he was sure of it.

Looking at the runes once again he clearly saw the protection against diseases first. This was Zoldon, Wyhrem's second born and until this moment presumed dead son. He had even attended they infant's royal funeral! As his mind screamed for some sort of explanation, he saw two other very small runes below the standard set he had placed on the boy.

Closer examination of the two marks further enraged him. One was a rune for implanting false memories, the other was one to make someone forget. Energies ripped through his hands as he summoned a spell, gathering all his energies into two fingers he touched the two tiny runes and destroyed them utterly. As he sat there looking at Zoldon he realized the runes meant the poor child's memories had been messed with so many times it would be impossible to straighten them back out.

The real mystery and overriding concern focused on another child. For if this was Zoldon, and certainly it was. Where was the King's Heir? Where was Klandon?

NEXT PART