ELVEN RETURN, AN AD&D PBEM


THE TRAINING YARD - Lost & Found (king's palace, Kaelind)

     A slight breeze flows across the practice yard. Dusk is approaching soon, and you're hopelessly lost. Your room SHOULD be around here somewhere... but where ? The clangs and clashes the usually fill the yard are gone, as most have left to attend other duties. Swords, spears and axes lay against the north wall, while bows lean casually against the south, ready for one to come and use them another day.  As you look around for some indication of where you are, you see three other men in the yard with you.

    "Hail, fellow warriors," says an immense man off to the side of the practice yard.  He slowly approaches the other three occupants of the yard.  "How do you fare this day?  Ahh, allow me to introduce myself; I am Aran, and have only recently arrived here."  He extends his large hand to the others to shake.

     A dark haired man turns his gaze from the setting sun toward Aran. With long strides the elaborately armored knight clears the distance to stand before Aran.  A broad and bright smile breaks free from his lips as he speaks, "It is my pleasure to met you Aran.  I am Justin, Defender of the Light and every dusk fill me with the joy that a new dawn will follow." He removes his silvered gauntlet from his right hand as he accepts Aran's larger hand.  Closer now, Justin's form can be seen quite clearly.

     Beneath the glistening surface of the steel armor he wears, he stands a full six feet tall.  A length of black hair is cut close and well out of reach of the armor's plates.  His face is soft, tanned, and very handsome. His eyes are a contrasting pool of emerald waters. Sheathed at his side, is the elegant length of a steel bastard.  Over the oiled surface of his armor a tabard blows about in the breeze.  It bears no national emblem, just that of Bel the power of Light.  A like symbol is embossed upon the surface of his shield.  He presence casts an aura of benevolence, courage and caring.

     Sheathing his two handed silver broadsword, a raven black haired man turns to face the small gathering of warriors.  His face is serious but his black eyes shows warmth as he casually looks at everyone standing before him. "Well met good sirs, I am Devian Necrobane, faithful servant of Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead."

     Devian is tall just under 6 feet and is dressed in full plate mail armor. His armor is black as well as his cloak and everything else that he wears with exception of three silver symbols of his faith.  One a circlet that he wears on his forehead, a second that is a clasp for his cloak to his armor, and an amulet that rests on his chest.  His hair is straight and falls just above his shoulders and his skin is tanned.

     Turning his head away again, Devian's face looks serious once more as he stares distantly as if searching for something.  He then turns back towards everyone and with a smile he walks over to join them.

     Baclava stops staring at the various entrances to the courtyard and advances to the three men. "Excuse me... Sirs ?" He says, looking rather intimidated to be in the presence of so imposing a trio. "Ummm... Would either of you happen to know the way to my room ?" The young man blushes and dips his head, his wild blond hair covering his pale blue eyes. "I ah... Appear to be lost...". He shuffles his feet in embarrassment, jiggling the various parts of his armor. "I'm new around here, you see... Just joined the king's Own !" Baclava beams with pride as he point to the upside-down shark symbol on his left arm. "Oh ! I'm Baclava by the way." He bows to the three fighters, blushing again. "An honor to meet you both... So... Umm... About my room...?"

     Aran looks at both Devian and Baclava and says, "And I am Aran Kobbarson..." He shakes hands with them.

     After removing his chain glove, Baclava wipes his sweaty hand on his brown tabard and shakes hands with the big barbarian. "An honor Sir Kobbar." He then replaces his glove... until he remembers the presence of the paladin and the black man. Scrambling to bare his hand again, he presents his palm to Justin and, more hesitantly, to Devian. "An honor to meet you too, Sir Justin..." A weak smile creases his broad face.

     Justin at least, happily accepts the hand of Baclava with a smile.  

     Aran frowns, thinking, and after a pause finally peers at Baclava and says, "Nope, I can't tell ya where the rooms are... Never stayed the night in the city."  He scratches his head and peers around the courtyard again.

     Baclava lets out a sight of relief and the tension seems to flow from him. "So you're lost too ?" The young fighter smiles warmly.  "I've been wandering these halls for the better part of two watches you know, your company sure would be appreciated in my search, Sir Kobbar... We can entertain ourselves at the very least !" He reaches up and lays a friendly hand on the giant's shoulder. "'Good it is to have companions in times of strife' as my lord father used to say... And right he was, right he was !" 
    
     "Why return to our rooms so soon?  The night is young.  Who here would join me over a glass of ale and a good plate of beef?  I leave soon to assist others in their pursuit of the King's will."  Raising a hand to Devian, Justin flashes a broad smile as his emerald eyes pan over the faces of Aran and Baclava. Justin waits patiently as shimmers of light dance in his eyes and over his silvered gauntlets.

     Baclava tilts back his horned helm and scratches his head in puzzlement. "Are you lost as well, sir Justin ? My, but these halls are downright traitorous ! I believe someone should advise the King of this hazard. The good people of Kaelind should not have to face this labyrinth to see their King or serve their country. It's cruel !" His mailed fist comes down in his left palm with a thunderous <clang>.

     But the frown on Baclava's face quickly fades as he remembers the offer of food. "Good news ! I myself can contribute to our resources. In my travels, I stumbled on the royal kitchens and commandeered some provisions." The smiling young man opens a beltpouch attached to his red belt and proudly extracts a fair sized leg of mutton. "With this and sir Justin's beef, we shall not starve !" He points the leg of mutton to the skies. A small breeze billows his leather cloak and the dying rays of the sun enflame his silhouette like that of some mythic hero. "We shall NOT starve !"


THE KING'S MESSAGE - Lack of Education (king's palace, Kaelind)

     Lost in the glory of the moment, Baclava almost fails to notice a new arrival in the yard. In the fadind daylight, there stands a boy, no more then ten by the looks of him, waiting patiently for someone to pay attention to him. Once everyone's eyes settle on him, he make a most 'noble' bow.  "Good day, Sirs" he says, trying to look dignified "Would you happen to know where Devian Necrobane, The Paladin Justin, Aran Kobberson, or a Baclava would be?"

     "That would be us, boy" replies Aran. 

     Scrambling to get the sack off his back, the boy reaches in and pulls out a scroll case. Putting it in the massive hands of Aran, he makes another bow, and turns to leave.

     Opening the case reveals four letters, one addressed to each of them. After lowering his leg of mutton, Baclava takes the proffered piece of parchment. He opens it and reads :

-
      dfsdfsdf Baclava,
	
	lkjasfhhh  akjslfdj  j;ajsf;lajf;ajsf......

						King Ilin. <King's seal>
-

      Baclava turns pale... only to blush deeply in the next instant. The athletic young man quickly grabs the retreating page by the collar, lifting him off his feet in his haste. "One moment please." Holding the page close to his chest, he turns to his companions. "Uh... I mmmm... Need to talk to hu... this page for... personal reasons." He stammers, his hair hiding his eyes again. The blushing young man then runs to a corner of the yard where he carefully sets down his human cargo.

      <deep breath> "Listen boy... How would you like to help a member of the King's Own do his duty ?" He looks deep in the boy's eyes. "All you have to do is tell me what's written on this parchment. Simple no ?" Baclava shows the boy the king's letter and the greasy leg of mutton. "I'll even throw in this delicious leg of Mmm...?" He takes a small bite of the meat. "...mutton I believe. So how about it ?"

     The young boy looks slightly puzzeled at the request, then looks back at the other three as though realizing something. He accepts the mutton with diligence, before opening the letter and explaining the contents through mouthfulls of mutton. 

     It says : "Dear Baclava, I'm sure you are well aware of the war in which we are engulfed. I have sent many embassies off to ally other nations in our cause. To this date, none have returned. So, two nights ago, I sent a small group of the smartest, best soldiers to secretly seek allies. But even in our homeland, misfortune visits them. Prepare for a journey, tonight you will set off at full speed to the west coast. Horses are saddled and ready in the stables for your departure, do not hesitate to break the horses, for fresh ones await you in Belar, which shall bring you to the port city of Wevlinor. 

     There you shall meet Zaknafein Eveningstar; Samuel the IllusionWeaver; Shirri Vreen; and Karnath, Chosen of Chijor. Make haste, for they are departing on a boat to Junipar in the morning, which is owned by Miranda Starbright. Signed King Ilin." The boy gives the letter back to Baclava who rushes back to his companions, letter in hand. "So.. <deep breath> what do we do ?" Baclava looks to Justin and Aran for advice. 

     Devian turns to face Bacalava and smiles..."Sorry friend, I have been speaking but you were out of range to hear my words. As I was saying, we have our orders from the King and it's time to move forth. Once this page boy directs us to the stables, we can be on our way." He peers down at the page. "Tell me young one, where are the stables located?  My Death Lord's work is needed to be done for there are sure to be many souls needing to find peace from this war." 

     Baclava recoils a bit at the mention of 'Death Lords'. "What..." He begins but quickly clamps his mouth shut. "Ummm... What about my equipment ?..." He asks after a short pause. "I still haven't found my room, you know... I DID locate where they keep the horses though. You just have to follow the smell, easy as falling off a thug." He smiles, proud of his accomplishments. To clarify his last remark the young fighter explains. "As everyone knows, Thugs make remarkably bad mounts."

    Aran whispers something in Justin's ear, a bright smile flashes past Justin's handsome visage as he whispers back. The paladin's eyes then fall down once again to the King's letter.  "Well, if horses are ready and others await us, let us not drag our feet."  Another smile flashes as Justin and his new friends start to walk quickly behind the page, supposedly towards the stables.

     Baclava waves his hand wildly in an attempt to gain the groups attention. "My gear, my gear ! I left it in my room..." His faces brightens as a brilliant idea comes to him. "Perhaps this young page would be so kind as to guide us there before going to the stables ?" He looks down to the small boy. "What about it, sir page ?"

     "Sure." Says the page, still munching on the mutton leg.

     Justin softly asks Baclava, "I thought you said that you could not find your room?" The young knight's face is truely bewildered.

     Shuffling his feet in embarrassment, Baclava explains "Well... You see... It was like this... I arrived yesterday you understand ? So I slept there... in the room I mean. The next morning... Today actually... This morning, I went out to get breakfast and..." The stuttering lad's face turns a radiant shade of red. "...couldn't find my way back." He murmurs... Suddenly raising his lowered head, he speaks loudly "So shall we be off ?" without waiting for an answer, Baclava walks stiffly behind the page, not looking anybody in the eyes. 


TO THE STABLES - Foul play (king's palace, Kaelind)

     Along the way, a calmed Baclava approaches the paladin and requests to speak to Justin alone, Justin slows his pace and allows Aran and Devian to get several paces ahead, "Excuse us for a moment, we will catch up."

     When they are safely out of earshot of the other two, Baclava whispers "I ask for your advice, Sir Justin." He looks around nervously. "Should we not do something about this Devian person ? He speaks of death lords and souls and other unholy things... Surely he must be evil !" The blond warriors gets more and more exited by the instant. "He must be some foul enchanter whose stolen the body of a noble comrade in arms... Why that dastardly villain ! He plans to sabotage our mission and blame it all on the King's Own ! He won't get away with it ! Here's what we'll do, I tackle him to the ground while you clobber him into unconsciousness..." Baclava starts edging his way towards the foul enchanter, eyeing him furiously all the while.

     Before Baclava can get far thought, a soft glowing gauntleted hand falls on his shoulder in a gentle grasp.  "Hold a minute, friend.  The Lord he speaks of is neither evil nor benign merely an aspect of life for those blind to the Light.  Judge him not by his diety nor by his words, look into his heart, Baclava.  If you care to know more of him or his lord, perhaps it is to him you should speak.  But, know this, friend, any man that would rather harbor his hates and fears and choose not to expose them, is more dangerous to himself then any evil enchanter or soul-stealer."  Justin's youthful face breaks into a brilliant smile as he pats Baclava on the back, "Worry not, the Light will guide us through all things."  At his last words his armored hands flare brightly for a moment.

     "Uh... Quite." Baclava seems somewhat confused by Justin's little speech. "Are you sure though ?" He throws a quick glance in the dark man's direction. "I don't mean to doubt your god given wisdom, sir Justin, but..." The young lad leans close to the paladin's ear and whispers "He does wear an awful lot of black you know." He backs up and awaits Justin's reaction to this revelation.

     Seeing Baclava's confusion, Justin smiles and continues, "Forgive my rhetoric, I may tend to ramble on.  I suggest that rather then plotting around Devian, you talk to him yourself."  Justin pauses for an instant and adds with a smile, "Oh, Baclava, if you do plan to... do something, please tell me."

     After Baclava's nod of approval, "Shall we join the others?", Justin asks as he motions forward with his silvered gauntlet. They rejoin the group just as it is arriving at their first destination. 

     Entering the room, Baclava walks straight to a pack of truly stupendous size. "My modest complement to the party's gear." He leans on the rolled up tent that tops his baggage, a modest smile gracing his features... "Well, let's be off." The warrior shoulders the backpack's weight with no apparent trouble and happily follows the rest of his companions to the stables, shovels and axes clanking at his back.

     "Do you know how to ride, Baclava?"  Justin begins honest, small-talk...

     "Can I ever !" The blond menace is smiling again now that the nasty business of foul enchanters is behind him. "You should see Gargamel, sir Justin... That's my horse. A fine horse, bright as a scholar." He gushes, literally oozing pride. "I've taught him since he was a foal." He blushes, dips his head and smiles proudly at the same time.

     He frowns all of a sudden "Say... Didn't the king say something about riding our horses to the ground ?... Certainly he wasn't talking about Gargamel, now was he ?" His pale blue eyes look imploringly at the paladin.

     Justin's brow creases a bit.  "I plan to accept the mount given by the kindness of the King.  Aurius, my steed, will come along as well, without a rider.  He is strong enough to carry his own weight to the ends of the world.  I am sure he would love a chance to stretch his legs without my bulk upon him, anyways."  Justin's last statement was accented by more then a hint of a smile.

     "Great idea !" He gives the paladin's form the once over. "Do you think you're fat ? Don't worry about it, sir Justin ! Sure, you could lose half an inch or two around the waist, but men don't have to worry about that... and it looks good on you... Really !"

     "Thank you for the compliment, Baclava.  No, I never thought of myself as being fat.  Actually I was referring to the bulk of steel I tend to wear on long trips, but by your comment maybe I should carry the horse." Justin's smile brightens just a little bit more.

     "Uh... Quite." Shy smile.

     Aran glances from Justin to Baclava, staring with his mouth open. Then he grunts and mutters, "I didn't know horses were *that* important.  I've walked wherever I go." There is a pause in the conversation as they enter the stables and everyone goes to their appointed horse.


MOUNTING UP - Death on a horse (king's palace, Kaelind)

     Baclava turns from his preparations to talk to the barbarian "Why certainly ! Horses are great creatures, intelligent and sensitive... I remember one time, my brothers had tied me up and tossed me in a ditch out by the pasture. Well I'll be damned if Murdel, my pony at the time, didn't wander by and untie me ! I got home a good watch earlier than usual... and ambushed my older brother Clarence by the master stairway. Horses are great !"

     Justin bright eyes turn from Baclava up to the impressive girth of Aran. Justin sets his gear near his mounts and walks over the assist Aran.  Justin moves quickly in readying the horse (or checking what has been done) but, leaves room for Aran to see what he is doing.  "Make sure this is snug...  Look under here...  See that she isn't chewing this...  etc..."  After Aran's mount is ready Justin will assist the giant into the saddle.  "No, try not to hold that part of the saddle... get used to holding yourself with your legs... put your feet here... to turn do this... to stop, do this... etc."  Justin will give quick clear instuctions on basic horsemanship.  "Aran, you will do just fine.  I will ride right next to you for as long as you like."

     Aran leaps clumsily into the saddle, fumbling for a few seconds before getting situated.  "Thank you, Justin.  I sure hope I can manage.  Don't want to slow you all down, you know."  He changes his leg positioning in the saddle a few more times, obviously uncomfortable. "Must not make these things for my size," he mutters.

     Baclava adds his own cheery advice to the paladin's "Things to remember, let's see... if you're hanging upside with a foot caught in a stirrup, the best thing to do is cut it and then mount again. DON'T try to pull yourself up using your horse's tail. They don't like it... Duck below branches... or at least wear a sturdy helm... If the saddle strap should loosen and you find yourself below your horse, don't panic, the closest cleric is less than a day's ride away..." And other reassuring pearls of wisdom. "Don't worry about it, sir Kobbar ! I've fallen off horses many times and I'm fine... So will you." He hums a happy tune as he goes back to loading the King's loaned mount with his gear.

     As Devian finishes checking his horse out, he quickly mounts up.  Looking to Aran he says, "Of course horses are important, they are part of the living which means they too will one day die, thus completing their fate in deaths embrace.  All life is important for all life will eventually die."  He finishes with a smile, "Thus is the way of Lord Kelemvor."

     Baclava rolls his eyes at all this unholy talk. He looks to Justin and raises both eyebrows in a questioning gesture while pointing to the alleged necromancer. He then makes a clubbing gesture with his other hand.

     With a calming gesture in Baclava's direction, Justin asks calmly in a truely inquisitive tone, "Devian, does it matter to you or your lord, how the living die?"

     For the first time since you met him, a true smile breaks Devian's normally serious face as he answers Justin's question. "Ah noble warrior of the light, before I answer your question, let us look at what death truly is.  Many fear death for they are unsure of the unknown.  What death really is, is it is part of the cycle of life, fate and spiritual advancement.  How a living creatures dies is really not that important to my lord...What is important is how a person lived their life for that is what shall be judged.  If a person goes faithless, he goes to my lords domain where he shall be given a trial and sentence.  My Lord Kelemvor and his faithful servants, such as myself, believe death is just another part of life.  How a person dies whether through evils hand or through normal means is not at all important.  What is important is if they come back to life as undead restless spirits.  Then that is an affront and shall be dealt with accordingly."  Devian says with grim determination.

     Focusing on Justin again, "I hope I answered your question where it is understandable.  Please feel free to ask anything else about my faith should you desire answers."  Devian finishes with a smile.

     Baclava leans over to Aran's stall and speaks out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes still fixed in the other two's direction "Sir Kobbar, what did he say ? Couldn't understand a word in three. 'Death is a good thing and it's important to come back as an undead' ?" 

    But Aran isn't listening. Momments ago, he attempted to take a quick ride around, just to get used to it.  After the first round, he begins struggling, shouting any commands that come to mind.  "Halt! Whoa there!  Whoa!  Stooppppp!"

     Baclava is a bit startled by Aran's outburst. A great, friendly smile adorns his face as he turns his head and sees Aran's predicament (and realizes it's not life threatening). "Don't bump his sides, sir Kobbar, that means 'go'... or 'turn'" He approaches and prepares to seize control of the bridle should Aran need outside help. "Now pull, don't jerk, on the lines in your hands <I assume>." A pause "You could also try falling off. It won't stop the horse but you'll be stone still." informs the smiling young man.

     When next Baclava and Aran can spare attention to the ongoing conversation, Devian is finishing a long tirade. "...undead, they are offensive for my Lord Kelemvor.  The cycle of life demands that mortals die, not prolong their lives unnaturally through necromancy and other foul magic.  The servants of Kelemvor simply wish to further the cycle of life and death.  The undead are unfortunate souls that need to be released to the eternal peace that awaits them.  Yes, even the evil ones are pitied and dispised among our faith.  When we see them, we will do our best to save them through a proper death.  My faith is neither good nor evil...we are what we are."

     Smiling at Justin and the others, "Shall we head out my friends?  If any of you like, you can ask me more of my faith while we are on the trail." Looking back at Justin, "And you sir, must one day tell me of your chosen faith."

     "Sounds good to us." Says Baclava who rides up to them with Gargamel in tow. Aran follows closely, watching his moves and occasinaly wobbling from side to side.

     The four rider exit the stables and go through the castle gates without problems. The guards let them pass with but a look at the king's seal on their letter. They ride out into the night towards Belar and then distant Wevlinor...


THE BOAT- Red tape (Docks of Wevlinor, Kaelind)

     The four riders arrive in the port town of Wevlinor by the early morning's light. The ride as been hard but uneventful. Even Aran has managed to maintain his seat (though sometimes with difficulty). All the harships of the journey seem to fall behind them however since the weather happens to be bright and sunny this morning, accompanied by a slight breeze from the south.

     Bypassing most of the little town, they make their way directly to the wharfs and quickly locate captain Miranda Starheart's boat among the many others at dock. She is most happy to inform them that she indeed has room for Justin and Baclava's horses, and that their passage is already paid for. The ship itself, orignally meant for carrying cargo, has been opened to take refugees to Junipar. Which explains the twenty or so refugees that are shuffleing about on deck, and more are most likely below. Everyone is sharing the space below deck orignally intended as a cargo hold. Noting that their future companions are exiting said hold to meet them, Justin looks once again at the captain before saying in a pleasant tone, "Excuse me, madam."

     Stepping out on the deck of the ship is a tall, slender, dark haired human with a neatly trimmed beard.  His bright golden tinted robe is well kept and around his neck hangs the symbol of Chijor.  He's obviously not accustomed to the constant movement of the ship but seems to be handling it reasonable well.

     Next to step on deck is what looks to be a halfling. Although it isn't that obvious because, unlike other halflings, this one has a long light colored beard. He also has blonde hair and brown eyes.  He is about 3.5 feet with a shortsword to his side. He has black pants and a dark brown shirt, which is covered by dark brown leather armor.

     Beside him is a slender human woman with raven hair and amethyst eyes, dressed in black from head to toe, with only the silver daggers of her bandolier and her blue/green King's Own armband relieving the somber garb.

     Turning, Justin begins to close the distance.  The well tended, although dusty, suit of steel armor hangs from broad shoulders. His eyes spill with friendship as he speaks from a bright smile, "Good day.  I am Justin, Defender of the Light.  My friends and I have come by the will of the Light and the King's orders."  His gaze shifts down to the paper he holds before looking up again, "I am looking for, Zaknafein Eveningstar, Samuel the Illusion Weaver, Shirri Vreen, and Karnath, Chosen of Chijor.  Do you know where I could find them?"  As he speaks his very words flow smoothly and eloquently.  His tone remains peaceful and the air about him flows with strength and compassion.

      Aran is much less composed. He stares around, looking at all the people, and back at the boat, before turning to those to whom Justin is speaking.  "No more boats, no more horses," he breaths in relief.  Once Justin finishes speaking, he says, "Ho there, I am Aran Kobbarson, and... uhh... What he said." He motions to Justin.

     Devian steps up at the rear of the group and scans the area slowly.  With serious face but warm friendly eyes he looks to the assembled Kings Own and says, "Hail and well met, I am Devian Necrobane, servant of Kelemvor Lord of the Dead."

    The last member of the new arrivals peers over the shoulder of sir Justin. "Hello." He says shyly. The young man steps in front of the group, jiggling his splint mail. "Nice... Nice to meet you sirs and lady... I am Baclava." He tentatively extends his hand while his face colors for some reason and his blond hair hides his pale blue eyes. "I'm a member of the King's Own too !" The athletic warrior beams as he proudly displays the upside-down shark symbol on his left arm. "So... When do we eat ?"

     Ruddely ignoring this important question (in Baclava's considerate opinion), Karnath steps forward and proclaims, "I am the chosen of Chijor known as Karnath.  I must naturally take it that you are the four of which the king spoke.  And while I would not wish to question your word, do you carry documents to prove who thy be?  Much has happened and I will explain after I am satisfied with your credentials.  I see you have met Kaldari and Shirri..."

     Devian turns to face Karnath..."Excuse me, I forgot."  He then reaches into his leather bag and pulls out the letter from the King.  "As I have already stated, I am Devian Necrobane, servant of Kelemvor Lord of the Dead."

     "Nice to meet you, Karnath of Chijor, and you, Kaldari," says Aran shaking Karnath's hand and then bending to shake Kaldari's, all the while sincerely trying to sound noble like Devian and Justin. "I, too," he proclaims as he puffs out his chest and tries to stand as stiff and straight as he can, "have those papers, if you want to see them."

     "Yes of course I need to examine each and every one of your papers, thank thee noble Aran for pointing out my oversight.  As we get to know each other better you will learn I am sometimes in need of good advice for I am prone to letting my heart speak when my head should."  Karnath takes Aran's credetials (and then and Justin's as the paladin presents) them and examines them as thouroully as he did the first set.

     "Uh... Papers ?" questions Baclava, looking distressed. The young lad rushes to the king's loaned horse and begins to frantically unpack his belongings. "It must be somewhere around here... I think. Of course, I could've left it to the page... No I'm pretty sure I put it in a safe place... In the tent maybe ?" After a good ten minutes of searching, Baclava stands over his scattered gear with a disconsolate expression. "I don't have it..." His shoulders sag in despair.

     "This could be a problem." says Karnath. "Will the ones who have proper documents vouch for Baclava?  I know he was mentioned by the king but we have already had one imposter and I do not wish to re-live that yet again."

     Baclava's head snaps up "Now just wait a minute... I'm sorry I lost the letter and all... but you can't judge a man by the paper he carries..." He falters and blushes as he adds "... or doesn't carry..." Regaining his composure the blond warrior plows on "I never understood this paper business anyway. A man is his honor and his honor is not in the alphalabet... alphabet." He nods to himself a few times, reviewing his various points to see if they made sense.

    Suddenly, he smiles once more as a brilliant idea comes to him. "So how about this... I swear to be who I am and sir Justin stands behind me. If he should nod to warrant my statement, I won't know and won't have to beat anybody to a pulp for doubting my word !" The young genius's smile beams out... he's quite proud of himself.

     Devian focuses back to the group as a whole after staring off into the distance.   "I can vouch for Baclava being who he is.  He was there when we recieved our missives and he has been around someone since."

     Justin listens and politely interjects, "Excuse me, please.  For your needs, Karnath, I vouch for Baclava as well."  Turning to the young warrior Justin softly adds, "Please stop.  He meant no harm.  To some, the words of the king (Justin motions with his papers) speak louder than the voice of the individual."

     "That is why I asked for the others to vouch for you, Baclava.  It was not so much a question of your honor more a precaution in these trying times.  There have been some very disturbing incidents of late and it is hard to determine whom to trust and of whom to be wary.  Since Sir Justin's papers are in order and he will speak in your behalf then that is enough for me."  Turning to speak privately to Kaldari, whispers something to the "halfling".

     Baclava face is sad once more as nobody seems to have liked his idea... He thought it was great. Despite Justin's kind explanation, he's not satisfied "I object to having to be vouched FOR, my word is sufficient..." 


THE MAD MAGE - The importance of housetraining gnomes (Docks of Wevlinor, Kaelind)

     "So you think you can just waltz onto this ship without proper papers? What kind of fools do you take us for? (don't answer that...)  The chosen of chijor is right" echos a strange, mysterious voice coming from all around you.  "These are trying times. We cannot trust these men!"  the voice seems to move from all around to one spot, in the air above the cargo-hold hole that's on the deck.  suddenly a Red robed shape of a humanoid appears, he has his legs crossed, his body entirely covered and unseen. An old, wrinkled brown hand points out from under the robe, directly at the four new comers.  "You four cannot be trusted, not after that scream. and when people cannot be trusted, Samuel gets upset.  and when Samuel gets upset... people DIE!!!!"  A huge Fireball explodes out of the hand as the robed figure pulls back his hood, revealing a bald, wrinkly head of what appears to be Don Nots.  The burst of flame roars towards the newcomers.  dozens of balls leap out as the floating figure cackles wickedly.

      Rather surprised to be still standing, Baclava is quick to react. "Foul enchanter !" Screams the warrior as he unsheathes his bastard sword and charges the cackling menace. "FOR THE KING !"

     Stepping in front of Baclava, Karnath says something. His eyes going wide, the charging Baclava tackles the priest to the ground, putting his body between him and the magical attacks. "Get down !" Trusting his fellow fighters to come rushing at the dastardly spellcaster, he rolls to the side to clear the way. The frantic warrior then pops back to his feet and tries to see how he can best assist his comrades.

     A man steps out from below deck and stands before the gnome. Baclava quickly takes in this apparition's features. Standing just below six feet, he looks pretty ordinary with his short brown hair and clean-shaven face. His face however, shows the calm and determination of a seasoned warrior. He wears a worn plate mail with the armband of the King's Own on his arm and a shield is on his back. In his hands, held in a defensive position, is a long bastard sword. He speaks in a calm and controlled voice tinged with a noble accent.

     "Stand down, warrior. As I see you are wearing the King's armband, I am willing to give you the opportunity to back down. But if you insist on attacking the gnome, you will have to go through me."

     "So you must be that traitorous false Knight we've heard about ! DIE IMPOSTER !" Baclava resumes his charge... and quickly screeches to a halt when Justin interposes his frame between him and his quarry.

     Justin's green eyes stare softly at the gnome and then focus on the warrior.  "Greetings, sir.  I agree, violence is not needed here today." He turns to Baclava with a calm face, "Please, stand your ground and return your sword, Baclava."

     The blond menace lowers his sword, a truly confused expression on his wide features. He looks distrustfully at the new arrival then to the un-moving Devian and Aran and finally to Justin. "But, but... He attacked us." He points to the attacker who has mysteriously transformed into a red-robed gnome at this point.

     Justin makes a calming gesture and turns back to face the two before him, looking down to the gnome and speaking in a peaceful voice, "That truely was a grand entrace but, in your demonstration of pride and power you could have caused a panic or worse."  His last comment was accompanied by a gesture toward Baclava and his unsheathed  blade.  "I don't think that you meant any harm but, please do not do that again."

     The new arrival looks back at the gnome for a moment. "What did you do this time, Samuel?" he asks sternly, before returning his gaze to the stranger before him. The gnome stands mute, wether of shock at having a blond mad man charging him or because he doesn't care is not clear.

     "Ummmmm.  Nuffing... muuuch"  the gnome says shyly, like a young child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  A blushing smile creeps across his face as he stares at the deck and sways his hands, rocking back and forth on his little feet.

     Grumbling in his non-existent beard, Baclava finaly sheathes his sword. Convinced that these strange happenings are beyond him, he decides to concentrate on what he does understand and helps Karnath up off the floor. "I trust you aren't hurt, sir Karnath ?"

     "If that's the worst injury I receive out of this quest I shall consider myself mightily fortunate. Thank thee for your assistance in regaining a standing position."

     "Think nothing of it, sir Karnath... Seems only fair since I was the one who put you down there." A pale smile is returning as Baclava's fury recieds in his memory.

     On his feet once more, Karnath addresses the unknown warrior. "I know these people, Zak. The king told us of their arrival, it seems we just had a small misunderstanding.  I am glad to see you healthy, Zak. I had been lead to believe you had disappeared mysteriously."

     "I had disappeared, and I hope never to return where I have been, but apparently I have mysteriously reappeared in the cargo hold of the ship. It is good to see you too, friend." he then turns to Shirri, and a smile appears, but quickly disappears, on his face. "It is also good to see you, Shirri. You will have to tell me how things went with the authorities. But later." Zak sheathes his sword as the danger seems to be past. 

     Justin face breaks into another smile as both swords are sheathed. "Good."  Justin turns to face as many as possible (of those he just met). "Well, if I may, I am Justin, Defender of the Light and all beneath her (this is said with an extended hand of peace). We are here by the will of the king and the guidance of the Light. (a brief gesture to Justin's fellow warriors), Zaknafein this is Baclava, Devian Necrobane, and Aran Kobbarson."  Each introduction is accompanied with a gesture of his gauntlet.

     "Greetings sir Zakanefe... <erhum> Zaknafein... Hope your not mad about me trying to kill you and all." Baclava smiles shily and waves in the warrior's direction.

     Zak turns to the newcomers and looks them over one by one, as if appraising them. "Greetings, I am Zaknafein Eveningstar and these are my companions" he motions to the others. "If the King sent you, then you are welcome among us." Though his words are welcoming, his voice is distrustfull.


RECONCILIATION - Uh... Sorry. (Docks of Wevlinor, Kaelind)

     Sheathing his sword once more, Devian looks at Karnath and says, "I do not care whether that was a joke or not, it was un-called for especially since there is a question of trust here.  We have come to offer our assistance by the Kings orders and so far we have been interrogated;  and one of our own has been accused...even if only temporary.  How are we to know that you all are not imposters as well? How are we to know who you all are period?   We have not questioned you or the others yet we are attacked in such a way."

      "Now I must ask, where are your papers from the King as well as everyone else's on board this ship that we are to meet?  You may have had a good reason not to initially trust us...now you have given me reason not to trust you.  At least we did not attack any of your people like yours have done to us.  So I will ask again, where are your papers as well as the others of the Kings Own ?" Devian then stands quietly staring at Karnath while he waits for their proof of who they say they are.

     "I have nothing to hide Devian." Karnath says as he locates his documents from inside his vestments.  "I would expect nothing less than you question my loyalties, but then here again we have the same predicament for one of ours has no papers but I will vouch for him.  If it will set your minds at ease I will submit to whatever tests you wish, for as I have said trust must be earned and I am more than willing to work for yours," Turning to Baclava and bowing his head, "each of yours. What questions have thee of me?"

      "Sad age when a man's word counts less then a piece of paper..." Says Baclava, saddened. "I would only ask for you to swear on your God's head... Amply sufficient !" A small smile creases his features. "So when do we eat ?"

     "As you wish Baclava, by the grace and glory of Chijor I declare I am a faithful and loyal servant of the king and the land of Kaelind.  Glad to make your acquaintance."

     Devian nods his agreement to Baclava's idea of swearing to a chosen god. Being a holy man himself, he says..."You swear to your god...I can see you are a man of the cloth so your word must have strong meaning.  I concur with your proof of who you are."

     "It seems we all started on a wrong foot but no harm is done.  Let us look to the future..."  Looking at Baclava with a smile..."And to our stomachs and let us forget this sour incident."

     As things have quieted down considerably, Shirri decides to scold the gnome whose been keeping quiet since his entrance. "Samuel!  Shame on you!  You're going to get yourself impaled on a two-handed sword or something if you insist on administering 'tests' like that!"  The psionicist shakes her raven head at the gnome.

     "It's a Bastard, Lady Shirri." Says Baclava pointing to the handle of his sword on his back. 'Proper names are important.' He thinks stubbornly. 'Else we'd be lost.'

     Shirri's amethyst eyes widen at that comment. "I don't doubt that such a weapon is, indeed, VERY troublesome to handle!" she agrees naively.  "Samuel would do just as well to keep potential comrades from using their weapons upon him, though...would you not, Samuel???"  She arches an eyebrow at the erstwhile gnome wizard.

     "hey!" says Samuel, "I don't think the details of its conception and birth status is really any of you business!  And further more, you shouldn't be so cold and uncaring, announcing it's private details to the whole world!  to think of all the great times the two of you must have had together, only to have you betray its trust like this! Shame on YOU!"

     Ignoring the gnomes antics Baclava tries to explain. "Uh... No... I mean." He scratches his head in puzzlement. "What I meant was... the sword is CALLED a Bastard sword, lady Shirri... Not two-handed, You understand ?" 'The lady's behavior with the gnomish wizard is quite puzzling, she treats him like a small child and he acts like one !... Perhaps he's not a bad sort after all... Better do something.'

     The female flushes a bright pink, murmuring her apology for not quite comprehending the knight's meaning earlier and becomes intensely interested in making sure that there is enough bread to go with the meal the party would soon be having. Baclava's blush complements hers. "I seem to have stepped in it again." He murmurs, bowing his head. There is a moment of silence, then the embarrassed lad quickly shakes it off and focuses on Samuel. 

     The young warrior tentatively approaches his former future victim. Peering down at the gnome he tries a strained smile. "Uh... Hi... I'm told this was a mistake" A pause. "Don't take it badly, but I won't be able to call you 'sir'; this whole 'attacking your allies' business, you know ?" Baclava rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. "Anyway... I hold no grudge... Allies ?" After removing his chain glove, he extends his hand to Samuel. 

     "alright." smiles samuel, extending his own hand and shaking with Baclava. "I hope you didn't get hurt when I tried to make you believe you were getting killed by me.  You know, though, your response was alot better than some.  well, actually no, most people DON'T try to kill me, but you can't win them all, I suppose."

      "Uh... Thanks." The repentant warrior seems slightly confused by the gnome's praises. Shrugging, he puts his glove back on and then pauses. <Snif> He looks around, trying to find the origin of the foul odor... Not finding it, he resolves to take a bath at the earliest opportunity... certainly before sitting down at a meal with company.

     Seeing that all is well between the two, Shirri smiles at Zak.  "We were trying to get underway, Zak--the King said that two of our party were to be replaced by these four..."  She nodded to Justin, Devian, Aran and Baclava, "...Whom he'd mentioned by name, which is why I myself was not jumping up and down, insisting on paperwork and such...however, if everyone here is satisfied with everyone else's credentials, how about we go to a cabin for a meal and to discuss all the hairy details about the current developments, hmmm?"

     Karnath answers "Mayhaps its true I was a bit too suspicious, Shirri, but I still feel regret that I did not see through Darkkon's trickery. It is this regret that has clouded my wisdom."

     The psionicist nods, but she also adds:  "True, we were fooled by Darkkon...but then, if I recall, HE had all the proper papers, did he not?" Shirri shrugs.  "But NOW...now we should eat and compare notes, yes?  It would seem that our newest compatriots are more than eager for a meal..."

     "Yes, Darkkon did have proper papers, but then we did not have a name to match with those papers only the papers.  Here we had both and I was just trying to avoid another such incident.  I too am most eager to partake of morning sustenance, now that this encounter is behind us."

      At the mention of food, Aran's eyes light up, and he seemingly returns to the world.  "We're going to eat?" he asks eagerly.

     "A man after my own heart !" adds Baclava, rubbing his hands at the thought of food. "Haven't eaten or slept since yesterday at the king's castle, you know... We should probably send someone to accompany the king's horse to the king's stable first though, sir Karnath...or would 'brother Karnath' be more appropriate ?... Father maybe ? You seem a bit young for 'Your holiness', but I'm game." The smile on the blond warrior's face could blind the unwary. 

     "Karnath will suffice, I hold no illusions of grandeur. I am but a humble servant of my god, my lord, and my country."

     "Ummm... Just wouldn't seem right to address a man blessed by the Gods... well at least one God" Smiles Baclava. "as a commoner. If you don't mind, I'll call you 'brother Karnath', brother Karnath."

     "If that is your wish Baclava, I certainly will take no offense to honorific."

     "So, what became of this Darkkon fellow you speak of anyway?" Aran asks, eagerly anticipating a few battle details.

     "We can discuss the details of Darkkon's demise over some breakfast." says Karnath. "It's a strange set of circumstances and shows that I am suseptible to Samual's displays also.  But let us eat now."

     "Sounds good to me," Aran says. "The sooner, the better."  

     "Time is of the essence," says Zak "for the future of our kingdom depends on our success. You should all go eat, I will try to arrange our immediate departure."

     With that Zaknafein pulls Karnath aside for a moment and exhanges a few words with him. Then Zak goes off in search of Captain Starheart to ask her to set sail.

     "Uh... excuse me, sir Zaknafein, but with all the commotion, we haven't had the time to load the horses... or the gear." Baclava looks to his own gear wich is still spread out all over the scenery.

     Devian speaks up. "Everything I have is on me so I am more than ready to start our meeting." With that said, Devian waits to accompany Zak as he wants to talk to him.

     Zak only shakes his head. "We are not bringing our horses. This is a refugee ship and we are lucky they agreed to let us come at all. We will not take up much needed space with our mounts, nor will we flaunt our wealth in their faces."

     Baclava looks at the stern warrior with mild puzzlement. "The captain said we could... and we're talking about OUR horses, not yours... You are, of course, free to do as you please with your mount, sir."

     Zak turns for a moment to face the young man, "You do not seem to understand, young man. These people have left everything they own behind to escape the horrors of war. Many have had to sell everything to be able to bring their children aboard, others were not even able to make it on the ship. Captain Starheart agreed to let us come onboard because I offered them our protection. Now, she might have told you you could bring your mount, but must you? Do as you want, of course, but know that 
if you bring your horse onboard, it will mean some people will have to be left behind to make room for it. And keep in mind that the others, in front of which you will be grooming and feeding your steed, won't take kindly to your flaunting. See if that fits well with your code of honor."

     Hearing Zak's harsh but true words, Justin steps, momentarily, closer to Baclava.  "If there are so many in need of this ship, perhaps it is not the best means of travel.  Maybe it would be better to find another vessel to serve us.  Yet, every second we wait, these people remain homeless and others die in vain.  So, do we wait or proceed?  We proceed.  Would you enter the den of a lion, to save a maiden, without your blade because she does not have one as nice as yours?  No, you would not.  And so we shall not either.  Our friends (Justin motions to the horses) join us not to glorify our prides, but that they may serve to aid us end the plague of death across Kaelind."  Justin focuses into Zaknafein's eyes, "Look carefully, Zaknafein and you will find our hearts to the same as yours." Justin's voice never once rose and his tone remainded polite, even friendly.

     All this rhetoric passing leagues above his head, Baclava starts backing away slowly from the two orators. He speaks very softly "I'll just go pack up my gear, shall I ?" The warrior then precipitously turns on his heels and makes a beeline for his horse. 

     Baclava touches Gargamel's sides and sights a sight of relief "Why can't those two ever say something that makes sense ?" The horse's only answer is a snort in his hair. "Now YOU I can understand !" Baclava smiles, pets his horse and gets on with the business of re-packing his belongings.

     Walking directly over to Baclava after his conversation with Zaknafein, Justin begins to help pick up Baclava's belongings.  "Baclava, if you can get our horses ready and return the other four to the king's stables, I will make liaison with the captain."  

     "Certainly, sir Justin. It'll be my pleasure." Baclava starts humming a happy tune. Now THIS he can understand. After re-packing his gear (and seeing Justin off to see the captain), Baclava helps with the loading of Gargamel and Aurius. Ensuring that they are comfortable and padding is provided (in case of rough weather) before going back up to escort the other four horses to the stables... Halfway there, he turns back, returns to the ship and asks a sailor "Where, exactly, are the king's stables located, good sir ?". The blushing young lad then proceeds as planned and returns to the ship for a good (and deserved) meal, stopping only once at a public bath to get cleanned up.

     In the bath room, Baclava is preparing to take his bath. He removes his cape, his tabard and then his armor, finishing with the boots. Unexpectedly, a piece of rolled up parchment falls out of Baclava's right boot and floats to the ground. Curious, the young warrior picks it up and unfurls it...

                                       *
                                      * *

     Later that morning, they all meet up on the deck and Shirri guides them to the mess hall. During the short walk, Aran moves next to Karnath, saying, "Could you please explain to me what it is you -I mean 'we', are going to be doing on this particular mission?"

     "I believe that now that Zaknafein is back he can explain the situation better than I." Karnath looks to Zak.

     Zaknafein frowns, his eyes going to Baclava and back. "Suffice to say that we are on a diplomatic mission. We must find allies for Kaelind against the Elves."


DINNER CONVERSATION - Question and answer (Docks of Wevlinor, Kaelind)

     When Devian gets to the breakfast table, he grabs some bread and cheese to eat and looks to the assembled group. "I am heading out to the town for a little while..any of you care to come along? I have need to go to the local armory shop."

     "There might be somethings I could acquire in town, yes I think I will accompany you Devian.  If you can wait an hour or so while I do something first.  If not then maybe I can catch up to you when I am done aboard ship"

     With a smile, Devian nods at Karnath..."One hour will not be a problem.Just let me know when you are ready.  Since I will be waiting for you, I might as well sit down and enjoy the breakfast."  Devian then takes a seat and begins to help himself.

     Once everyone is settled, Shirri addresses the entire party. "So far as we know, ours is an urgent diplomatic mission--we must united the various governments in a stand against the elves that are invading and laying waste to our countries."  Her penetrating amethyst gaze falls upon Justin, Devian, Aran and Baclava in turn.  "You are here to help in this mission, yes? Or is there something else we must accomplish for our King?"

     Kaldari, who has been pretty quiet while all this discussion is going on, except to make that one comment that he made before, decides to speak "And has anybody here been to Junipar before?"

     Devian speaks "Our orders from the King has not changed the mission what so ever.  We were to meet you all here and assist in anyway we can however, I have never been to Junipar and I would think none other as well." He looks around the room and each agrees in turn.

     Baclava raises a tentative hand. "Uh... Excuse me ?... Lady Shirri ?" After an approving wave by the lady, he continues. "How... I mean no disrespect but, how DID five men disappear before the beginning of the mission ?... Was it the work of some foul enchanter..." The bubbling young man casts a questioning gaze in Devian and Samuel's direction. "... or perhaps assassins ? These low individuals cower in the city, just waiting to commit treason against the king... from the back preferably ! I shall ring their neck for this ! Vile miscreants !" His rapid breathing gradually drops as he gets hold of his indignation. Baclava then grabs a spoonfull of soup and starts eating in earnest.

     "Long story...but the people didn't exactly 'disappear'...four of the five were called back by His Majesty to be reassigned to other tasks, and the fifth--the mysterious and rather psychotic Darkkon--got himself killed in a senseless brawl that he himself started."  The psionicist sighed and shook her raven head.  "Darkkon had acted as though his ego got short-circuited by the raw elemental energy he was tapping into as a mage of the elements...or was he a cleric of the elements..?"  The woman mused a moment and then shrugged. "Ah, well--he acted sane one moment and completely different the next.  A capable fighter, but none too stable.  We'd thought him an emmissary from the King, as he had papers on him, but Karnath reminded me that his papers did not necessarily have Darkkon's name on them."

    "Oh... So that's what the king meant when he said you had been 'visited by misfortune'." Remarks Baclava between two spoonful of soup. "This re-assignment business is strange though... Maybe there's a traitor at the very feet of the king, trying to sabotage this mission ?" The blue-eyed fighter appears quite pleased by the idea. He waves his spoon around to complement his words. "The king knows he's there but not who he is, so he sends four newly recruited members of the King's Own uh... Because the traitors haven't had the opportunity to corrupt them !" He finishes in a rush. "Yes, that's it ! The brave king, surrounded by possible traitors, holds on while his courageous knights go into danger to save his kingdom ! <snif> Beautiful !" he goes back to shoveling soup into his mouth, sniffling once or twice.

     "Does anyone know how long this voyage is going to take?"  Since no one at the dinner table seems to know, Kaldari proposes to finish the dinner and go find a crew member and ask them his question.

     Justin eats quietly and as neatly as possible given the rolling ship. As he finishes the meal before him, Justin asks in a clear voice, "For what reason are we heading to Junipar?  Is that the first nation you plan to rally for the king?  To whom are we to speak to, once there?"  Justin takes a brief sip from his drink as he waits quietly for any answers.

     Baclava breaks up a generous piece of bread and stuff it into his mouth. He's about halfway through the chewing process when he becomes agitated. Quickly seizing  his cup, he drinks it down in one gulp chasing the piece of bread down. "Ah... Almost forgot about it !" His smile is wide as he reaches down into his right boot and extracts a piece of rolled up parchment. "Found it when I was at the bath house... Stuffed it in my boot for safe keeping you see. Survived the entire trip from the king's castle without problem." With a grand gesture, the blond warrior proudly lays the king's letter in front of Karnath.

     "I am glad and relieved to see you have found them, though since we have gotten beyond the distrust of each other I shan't need to examine them.  I will say that you do need to place them somewhere that you can find them, for they might be needed at a later time.  As has been said many will put their faith in the kings papers before they will in an individuals words.  I have been guilty of that myself."

     Baclava nods his approval to Karnath. "Qhuith..." He begins around his current mouthful of bread. <swallow> "I mean : Quite so, brother Karnath... A safe place mmmmm... my _left_ boot ?... No, that won't do. My uh no..." So deep in thought is the burly knight that he as stopped eating. Suddenly, after much mumbling, an idea hits him. "Of course ! The perfect place ! Should have thought of it from the start." A pause. "Sir Justin, would you be so kind as to keep my papers for me ? I'd much appreciate it..." He extends the rolled up parchment in the paladin's direction.

     The knight nods to Baclava with a smile as he accepts the king's letter. "It will be safe with mine, Baclava."  The handsome man turns to face all present at the table, Justin asks in a clear voice, "For what reason are we heading to Junipar?  Is that the first nation you plan to rally for the king?  To whom are we to speak to, once there?"  Justin takes a brief sip from his drink as he waits quietly for any answers.

     Shirri, blinking the cobwebs away from her mind, looks to Justin and answers: "Junipar is, I believe, the first country we must visit to rally allies against the elves...and we must speak to whomever is in charge of whatever country we go to." That said, she excuses herself politely and leaves the dining room.

     At the lovely lady's answer Justin smiles and nods his head. "Thank you." As she stands to leave, so does Justin. Not as though he was planning to go anywhere ,but merely out of respect for the lady. Baclava is caught unaware but quickly emulates Justin... though with quite a bit less polish. Once gone, he returns to his seat and turns to the quiet Devian with flashing eyes. "I thank the Light for your insight. If you do not mind, when Karnath returns, I too will join you for the same reason."  At his last comment, his emerald eyes glance down about the gleaming plate he wears.

     "Um... Are we at least expected in Junipar ?" Asks the puzzled Baclava. "Or do we have papers to tell them who we are ?... I mean who YOU are... I mean... that we are envoys from the king ?" He nods in satisfaction, having finally gotten the wording right. He look around but no one seem to be paying any attention to him. The flustered young man starts to raise his hand but thinks better of it. 'Maybe I said something stupid... or insulting...' He bends his head and resolves to concentrate solely on his plate. 

     "So, Aran, how did you like riding?", Justin asks with all sincerity. The rest of the meal is quiet small talk as the group gets to know one another.

     Everyone is nearly finished when Karnath becomes agitated. He quickly finishes his meal and, as he gets up from the table, "Excuse me I seem to have been lax in my duties.  Until later then."  Karnath mumbles on his way out, "How stupidly foolish of me."


TO JUNIPAR (First day) - Is Zak a bad man ? (Between Wevlinor & New Harbor)

     One hour later, Karnath returns to the deck after talking to several of the refugees.  Upon his return you hear him mumbling, "Clothing, sandles, twine, cloth, needles, thread, so many things, hope I have enough.  But surely Chijor will find a way to provide."  Aloud to all, "Devian, I am ready to go."

     "Are you buying things for the refugees, brother Karnath ?" says Baclava as he happened to pass by. "Mmmmm... I guess it IS the right thing to do..." He smiles. "Alright ! I'll contribute !" The eager young man fishes out his purse and empties the content in his hand. Two gold and five silver fall out... Baclava grimaces... He reaches for a silver, pauses, thinks better of it and finally grabs one of his two gold coins. Not looking at brother Karnath he drops the coin in his hand and walks off, rather depressed at his financial status.

     Taking the coin Karnath looks pleased and says, "Your generosity is much appreciated Baclava, you make me regret my original doubts about you more with each passing moment. I thank you."

     Without turning around, Baclava waves in a dismissive gesture. "Sorry it's so little..." He walks on, trying to figure out where all his money went. 'Shouldn't have taken that large meal before the Water Spout incident I suppose... Making me pay for the repairs out of my share was a bit unfair as well. Still...'

     Within a short time, everyone has gotten what they need, and settled down in the lower hull of Miranda Starheart's ship. Over two hundred refugees crowd the cargo hold, making it cramped and uncomfortable for almost everyone. While a few seems in good shape, most of the refugees look tired and distraught, but such comes with the time of war. Many are only dressed in rags, without even sandals on their dirt caked feet, likely the result of losing it all and barely escaping with their own lives. 

     Children cry and fuss, unused to the new hardship caused by the war. Some lay sick upon the floor, from exhaustion and disease which easily seeped into there small bodies when not cared for properly.

     At first, the soldiers are view with awe and shunned curiosity. But soon that changes. Karnath, helped by Shirri, begin to distribute what supplies Karnath bought. Clothes for the less fortunate, homemade toys for the children. Even the blessings of Chijor are brought to those in most dire need...

     When not attending the sick and despaired, Karnath plays tunes upon his flute, often accompanied by beautiful pictures and stories weaved from the air itself by the masterful Samuel. 

     Never one to sit on his hands if he can help it, Baclava goes to the crewmaster. "Excuse me  goodsir ?... Would you need any help on the journey ? I don't know much about ships or anything but I can pull and lift as well as the next guy... Maybe a little better even." He smiles shyly.
The crewmaster agrees, so Baclava spends the rest of the trip helping the crew as well as he can. He doesn't forget his other duties though, namely taking care of Gargamel and Aurius... and try to get in a few practice sessions with his fellow warriors.

     During the trip, Zak sheds his armor and takes up a vigil at the bow from before the dawn to after sunset, occasionally giving the sailors a hand. His eyes, however, constantly roam the horizon, expecting trouble. 

     A few hours after they set sails, during a lull in his duties, Baclava approaches Karnath. "Brother Karnath ?... I would like to have a word... in confidence ?"

     "Certainly Baclava. One minute while I finish up here." Karnath finishes examining one of the refugees and with a pat of reassurance on the man's shoulder, he follows Baclava out to a quiet corner of the deck. "So what can I do for you ?"

     "Uh..." The nervous lad looks around, making sure Zaknafein isn't within earshot. "It's about sir Zaknafein, he's... well... a bit rude... and overbearing. Not the good sort of overbearing either, like my lord Father is, more of a... bad overbearing. You seem to hold him in high esteem, brother Karnath, and... well... Why ?" Baclava's wide blue eyes gaze at the priest questioningly.

     "Zak is a troubled man, not a bad one.  There are ghosts in his past which I can only imagine.  I do not press him on what demons he may be keeping down, maybe someday he will seek a path in the light of Chijor. Until then, well he has always listened to my suggestions on things and I believe without a doubt I could trust him with my life if the situation ever arose.  Leadership can be a double edged sword, deadly no matter which way it comes at you.  We all look to Zak for guidance, I was most disturbed when we arrived and Zak was missing.  The mission must continue but I am a poor substitute for Zaknafein.  Samual as you see is a bit too grandious, and Shirri, well she would do a much better job than I although she is a bit distant at times.  But see this is one of my faults that hinders my ability to lead, I talk too much.  Please keep this between us."

     "No one will hear of your babbling from me, brother Karnath" Swears Baclava. "Though, in all fairness, even the king himself sometimes makes long speeches you know. No one seems to think it makes HIM a bad leader... Though I did fall asleep during one of his speeches..." The blushing young man looks at his boots. "I think it was the also the herald's fault... a little. I'm sure the king was much more impassionnate in his delivery. God ! I would've liked to be there. Seeing one of the king's speech in person, imagine it brother Karnath !" He looks to the sky, dreaming.

     "...But I'm sure someone like yourself has had that experience at least once. Forgive my inexperience..." Baclava tilts back his helm and scratches his head trying to remember what they were talking about. "Oh yes...So sir Zaknafein is to be our leader ? Forgive me, but I don't remember the king mentioning it...?"

     "I do not think it was something he wanted, but yes the rest of us have accepted that Zak should lead so he does.  I could not attend the original meeting where the mission was discussed but since my joining the group Zak has been the one everyone assumed was in command.  As to the king's speeches, again yes I have had many an opportunity to listen to his orations.  I was one of the healers he called upon when his son was sick and I was more fortunate, in that the methods I used cause the affliction to disappear.  So I have had the chance to stand beside our glorious king and revel in his presence."

    "Wow !... All I can say is... Wow !" He takes a step back and gazes admiringly at the man with the golden robe. "So how is he, brother Karnath ?... The king I mean." he eagerly awaits the answer, hanging on every word.
 
     "The war has caused the king to age greatly. The responsibilities of a nation in conflict are weighing heavily upon him. I do not envy his position, for I doubt I could withstand the pressure."

    Baclava nods somberly. "Neither could I, most certainly..." His smile bursts suddenly. "What am I saying ? Who would be daft enough to put ME in charge of a kingdom ?" The smile disappears as fast as it came. "Still... what you tell me is most troubling... Brother Karnath, would you..." He looks around to make sure no-one is looking and then quietly kneels. "... for the king you know ?" The young man bends his head and clasps both hands.

     "Yes Baclava will now,"  Karnath kneels with Baclava, "as I do everyday for him and the kingdom."

     Ignoring the cryptic first sentence, Baclava whispers without opening his eyes. "Ummmm... I was kind of hoping you would do the honors, brother Karnath... Talking to Gods always makes me a bit... nervous." He peeks at the priest from his half-opened left eye.

     "I forget, dear Baclava, that not everyone has as much of a personal relationship with Chijor as I have."  Karnath leads the two in prayer for the salvation of king and kingdom. Baclava closes both eyes and concentrates on sending good thoughts the king's way... "Chijor, bringer of peace, look down upon your children. Give us the strength to do what is good and enough wisdom to recognize the correct path. On this day, our hearts turn to our king. May he walk in the grace of Chijor and his heart made light by our prayer and hopes. Go and be Good." 

     After the prayer, Baclava springs to his feet, looking much more serene than before. "A most refreshing talk, brother Karnath. I feel... calmer. Thank you." He pats the priest's shoulder, a friendly smile on his face... and freezes, suddenly remembering his station. "Uh..." a blush spreads across his features and he withdraws post haste. Before disappearing down a hatch, he stops, turns around and smiles, as bright as the sun.


TO JUNIPAR (Second day) -  (Between Wevlinor & New Harbor)

     The dawn of the second day of travel lights the sea like a watery blaze. The wind is still from the south and carries the cries of sea birds from the nearby coast. The boat quietly sails on.

     Baclava is asleep, gently rocking in his hammock. <Grunt> Suddenly his eyes open and he springs to his feet. "Good morning everyone." His smile falters a little when he notices that 'everyone' is either up and not there or still sleeping. It comes back is a hurry though as he sees that Aran is still tossing and turning on the floor below his hammock. 'The big lug fell off.' smiles Baclava.

     The eager young man approaches Aran's prone form and extends a hand to shake consciousness into the barbarian... but jerks it back just as quickly when Aran opens his eyes as though he knew Baclava was there. "Uh... Good morning, sir Kobbar." He smiles shyly. "I was thinking of getting some training done to start the day. Get the nip out of our bones you know ?... sir Justin is... well, not here." he shows the empty hammock. "So... would you care to join me ?" 

     Aran groggily sits up, staring blankly at Baclava while he speaks, his momentary alertness surrendered to the fog of fatigue.  Finally, what he said sinks in, and he seems wide awake instantly. "You mean sparring?" he says, eagerly. "Haven't done that in a while." He very nearly jumps out of his bedroll, nearly putting his head through the wood ceiling, and begins hastily packing his belongings.

     Baclava looks at Aran, puzzled. "Uh... Why are you packing your things, sir Kobbar ?... We're just going on deck, you know." He blinks a few times before smiling once more. "It's a wonderful day out there, the sun is shining and the sea is very calm... I do hope we get at least one big storm on this trip though. I've never seen a REAL storm at sea... Have you, sir Kobbar ? Winds that would rip the masts right off and lightning, lightning as big as... as uh... as if hurled by the Gods, the way I hear of it." His pale blue eyes shine with enthusiasm.

     Aran finishes tidying up his area, picks up his morningstar and then straightens up. "Sorry, I 'avn't been in any big storms. This's only my second time on a boat, you know. I dunno if the other's would appreciate a hurricane, 'specially Zak.  He looks down enough already."

     <chuckle> "Yes, he IS quite a dour fellow... rather blunt in his speech as well. Not the diplomatic type at all, I would think..." He blushes a bit at his own words. "No disrespect intended..." He then looks to his own mess spread out below his hammock, then Aran (and Justin)'s tidy arrangements. "I guess I should clean it up." He mumbles. The young fighter starts to pick up his things, talking over his shoulder. "I was a bit worried, sincerely... About sir Zaknafein, you know ? So I had this talk with brother Karnath... wonderful man by the way. He assured me that sir Zak (Now where would this go ?) was... well, 'a tortured man that I could trust with my life' I believe he said..." Baclava straightens up and smiles brightly. "So everything is alright !"

BREAK

     Throughout the journey, Rowan seems to be in a constant state of fatigue. Sleeping  most of the time, she awakens for only a few hours a day to eat meals and drink. The rest is spent in a silent, restful slumber. But as the journey ends, Rowan's condition improves until she is healthy once more, if slightly older looking. 


ARRIVAL AT JUNIPAR - Battle plans (New harbor, Junipar)

     When land finally comes into sight again, you are ecstatic. Although only five days have passed, you feel like you never want to set foot aboard a ship again. Combined with the poor meals, Samuel's constant tricks, and the crowdedness, it was not an experience you'd prefer to enjoy for a long while.

     The city before you is called New Harbor. It is a fair sized port city where you can find the majority of normal stores, along with a few exotic ones. It is located just a few miles west of where the forest stops and the plains of Junipar begin. Junipar consists mostly of hilly plains just like this one, dotted with small villages of sod buildings. Wemic tribes are known to roam these plains, each erratic and unpredictable. While some are no better then bands of thieves, others truly wish to live peacefully and ignore the human concentrations. 

     The trip seems to have taken more of a toll upon Karnath, his usual clean and proud bearing has given way to a haggard and rather exhausted appearence.  He has slept little in the last few days and then only enough to replenish his body's energies in order to be the conduit for Chijor's blessings on the refugee's.

     Noticing the priest's exaustion, Devian looks to the ship they are departing with the refugees still aboard.  "I hope for their sakes that they are not faithless.  It would be a shame to live such a hard life only to go forth and live such a hard afterlife should they perish anytime soon."  Devian then gently touches the holy symbol on his chest.

     Seeing Karnath's heart ache at the sight of the refugees, Justin lands a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Know that by our actions in the days to come, those children will have a homeland to return to. You are a good man, the way you help their spirits." His face brightens into a wide smile. Then, after thanking Miranda for her generosity, Justin joins the group as they settle on the docks. Passing Baclava on the gangplank, he pats Baclava's shoulder. "Thank you Baclava for your help with Aurius, he appreciates it."

     "The pleasure was mine, sir Justin. He's such a fine beast..." Baclava is still blushing when he settles near the others.

     Zaknafein sets foot on the ground, his plate mail slung over his shoulder along with his shield. He looks around for a moment, taking in the surroundings, his vigilant eyes going over every merchant stand and every tavern. 

     Aran steps off the boat behind Zaknafein and lets out a long sigh of relief.  He rubs his neck and says aloud, "Horses, boats... this trip's starting out on the wrong foot..."  He walks along the docks, trying to stay near Karnath.

     Devian smiles as he steps foot on solid ground. He echoes Aran's sentiments. "Ah, that is one ride I shall be eager to forget."  Taking a breath of fresh air he turns to the other members and says, "Well, shall we get ourselves rooms at an inn?  Or shall we head straight to the lord of this place and do our King's bidding? I would rather get our business over with...what say you Zak?" Devian then turns away from the group and starts studying the area. 

     Kaldari also turns to Zak. "Where do we go from here?"

     Zak thinks for a moment, then speaks: "Junipar isn't like other countries. It has no central governement we can solicit aid from. However, it is the closest country to Kaelind, so it is imperative we enlist their help. What we will do is visit some local leaders and try to get them to help. With a little luck, they will continue our effort to unite everyone, allowing us to move on. So to begin, we will visit the authorities of New Paer. If they refuse to give military help, perhaps they will be kind enough to lend us some horses so we can continue our mission elsewhere..." Zak then looks at each person to see if everyone is in agreement. When his eyes lock with Baclava's, they stay a little longer than on the others, but eventually move on. 

     Baclava takes the look to be an invition to voice his thoughts. "Uh... Yes. How about placing us warriors on the perimeter of the group... with sir Justin and I on horseback so we can see trouble coming ?..." He frowns. "Uh... Maybe the one who's going to be doing the talking should ride up front instead ? More impressive on a horse you know."

     Justin turns to Zaknafein, "I see little problem talking to the leader of this New Paer.  There are a few ways we could go about rallying this nation's help.  First, we could seek the most powerful city-states in an attempt at instant support for Kaelind.  However it may be difficult to deal with the more powerful personas without anything to give. This leads me to my next point. We could rally the lesser powers. While they probably won't help immediately, they could pressure the greater powers to unite. Or, we could work a combination. Start here, see how they respond to our plea. Then target this city-state's allies, while skirting it's enemies for a time until we have enough support to better convince them."

     Baclava goes to open his mouth but closes iot without saying a word. 'Ignored again. bad habit if you ask me... and impolite too. I really don't like this Zak fellow.' He throws a disgruntled look Zaknafein's way.

     Meanwhile, Justin is addressing the six original members of the diplomatic mission. "And when we talk to this local leader, do we have any proof we speak for the king?  Or are they to take our word?"  As a second thought Justin adds, "As diplomat, what bargaining 'power' do we have?  We are here to ask for assistance but, what do we have to give in return for the aid ?" After some thought, he adds. "Does anyone have a map, detailed enough to list the different city-states of Junipar?  If not, I suggest we pool some of our funds to buy one."

     Reaching into his backpack, Zak takes out a scrollcase. "In answer to your question, Sir Justin, I have the official papers of the King. We have the bargaining power of Kaelind Lords." The stern warrior then casts glances around before adding, "We should continue this discussion somewhere else. Let's go into this tavern." Zaknafein leads the group into the tavern except for Karnath who remains on the docks, helping any of the refugees who are too old or too weak to help themselves disenbark. 

     The Fox's Song is a relatively clean establishment. Well lit, a bar is positioned opposite the door. Mostly sailors and merchants patronize this tavern. A singer is at the one end of the bar, entertaining all who will listen. The bar being already full, the companions scoot two tables together to accommodate them all. On the farthest one, Zak spreads the map of Junipar with it's different provinces.
     
     Right after settling down, Devian speaks his mind. "As far as I know, us new members to this particular mission was not given any diplomatic barganing powers so it is up to you original members to do that. Of course if you would prefer, we could split up into groups with at least one of you original members as a diplomat.  This will make our mission run faster but the risk may be greater. I prefer taking care of our mission as soon as possible even if the risk is slightly greater. If you are looking for support in our mission, we may try to visit the nobles of the land...if they agree with our cause, more than likely the Lord or Lady of this land will agree to follow.  That is simply my suggestion...if you all have other plans, let us hear them so we can decide."

     "Splitting up the group now would be a mistake," says Zak, answering Devian's suggestion, "since New Paer is on the way to any of the other provinces. We will go there first and seek their aid. Depending on their answer, we will decide on further actions."

     Justin speaks up. "Then since we are to bypass this town and head off to New Paer, the next step is transportation.  As seen, Baclava and I already have mounts. Am I correct in assuming that you have funds ? enough to buy another 5 horses and 3 ponies?  Since you are ambassadors, perhaps a carriage would be appropriate.  The first impression that we make at the lord's doorstep will follow us for some time.  Either way, we should be off to the stables." Justin pauses for a moment as his emerald eyes meet each of yours before adding, "After a good meal and some drink.  I will be back." With that said, Justin stands and strides to the bar to speak with the tavernkeeper or anyone tending at the time.

     Baclava plunks down next to Samuel, he looks depressed and speaks in a low voice. "Twice now I've been ignored. What's the point of asking my opinion if they don't even talk back ? Maybe I should just charge when they yell 'charge' and to hell with the fancy stuff..." He turns to Samuel. "How do YOU stay so cheerful all the time ?"

     Aran (who just happens to be standing near Samuel at the time), overhears Baclava, and says to him, "Sorry there, but I couldn't follow what you were saying.  It's hard for me to put things together when you're having two conversations at once... I'm, uhh, not good too at using my head."

     Baclava smiles. "Yes, I've had that same problem on more then one occasion... Sometimes I can't even follow ONE conversation." He turns a rosy shade but goes on. "What I do is concentrate on one and ignore the other, sir Kobbar... Or agree to anything they say if the source is right. In this case I think I'll ignore the Big boys..." He takes in Aran's rather considerable bulk. "uh... I trust you know what I mean, sir Kobbar...and concentrate on things I DO understand. They'll tell us what to do eventually." Baclava nods wisely, glad his experience can benefit another.

     Kaldari doesn't really offer much in terms of suggestions. He tries to listen, but seems to fidget a lot as Zak and the rest of the group is speaking. He gives Rowan a goofy look while this discussion is going on and says something to her in Halfling and laughs. Then, getting disapproving looks about all this, "Excuse me. Continue." 

     Baclava suddenly hits the table with a clenched fist <BANG> "We left our gear and horses out there without anyone to watch over them ! By the hairy b uh..." He looks to lady Shirri and blushes. "I mean... I'll take care of it." He bolts to his feet and quickly exits the tavern. 

     After checking that the party's equipment (and horses) is still there, he heads over to the ship and accosts a sailor. "Excuse me, Goodman sailor ? I'm Baclava... a passenger on the last trip you remember ?... Anyway... I would need a favor. We're in need of a uh... guard to guard our belongings and make sure some scoundrel doesn't take off with them... you know ?... I can pay." He pats his nearly empty purse. "Uh... How does 5 silver sound to you ?"

     The sailor agrees and, mere minutes later, Baclava comes back in the tavern, announcing the horses are guarded, but secretly wondering where he's going to find more money to pay for a meal. Thankfully, while Baclava was out, Justin bought cheese, fruit, bread, sweetened meats, for the whole party. As the delicious food is being passed around, they start discussing their plans once more.

     Karnath walks in looking just as exhausted as he feels. Seeing the others are discussing the course of action he says, "The refugees are safe for the night, I regret I cannot stay with them through this difficult time but if are not successful in our mission I fear their troubles will come again. So as much as I am needed there this is where I must be for the time.  I am weary after the days events so I doubt I will be able to contribute much to the plans, so whatever is decided by the group and agreed upon by Zak will be the course I wish to follow. I have need of rest and meditation so I will be in my room if there is need of my presence."  Turning to the gnome, "Samual, with all my attention being expended on the refugees I have forgotten to get my book back, can I now have it? I feel lost without it."

     Samuel nods. "I'll give it to you later."

     Hearing nothing from the strategists' corner of the table, Baclava swallows his last sweet meat. "So a decision has been made ?... Where are we going ?" The young man eyes travel from Justin to Zaknafein to Devian and back again.

     Kaldari Speaks up. "Yes, all this stuff is real exciting (said in a sarcastic tone), but I am going to look around and check out this new country.  Just tell me what you decide and I'll do my best to help."

     Zaknafein stands and begins to put the map away. "It is settled then, tomorrow at first light, we leave for New Paer. Meanwhile, I don't want anyone to go out alone. If you want to explore, grab a partner." 

     As the planning on what the group shall be doing is finished and the dinner over, Devian gets up to leave..."I too would like to have a look around this place to see what needs to be seen. As I have said before, I have never been to this land before and I wish to explore it while time permits. If there are no objections, I shall take my leave as well."

     "New Paer it is then..." Baclava smiles and rubs his hands in satisfaction. "Hope they have a big army. Uh... This is probably none of my concern, sirs, but you DO have some sort of a... negotiation plan ? You know... What to offer, who says what, what we want, that sort of thing ? As my Lord Father used to say : 'Fools rush in. Sages wait by the door and clobber them as they pass.'... Quite the poet my Lord Father..."

     Justin politely interjects, "While plans are discussed among our diplomats, Baclava and I could purchase transportation. It would save time. Time that war continues unhindered." Justin takes the last of his drink down, neatens up his area while waiting for any responce.

     "Well, I suppose it's alright." says Samuel in that oh-so-leadership-role-type way, winking at Zaknafien.

     Baclava give a strange look to the mage and grimaces "Since Samuel gives his permission... I'll be glad to accompany you, sir Justin." Baclava's smile fades as a thought comes to him. "Uh... Are the stables open at this hour ?... Then again, this is a strange country so maybe they are... Are they ?"

     Kaldari asks if Rowan and him can share a horse. Or if he can share a horse with Samuel. After all, him and one of those two is small enough to fit on a horse.

     "Wouldn't you prefer a pony, sir... Kaldari ?... or maybe a mule ? Riding two in a saddle is rather un-comfortable you know... They haven't been made for one with your... slight build, much less two at a time." Baclava smiles and points to sir Kobbar. "You should probably ask him about it. He has some experience in this domain."

     "I see no need for each of us to have our own horses. I'll deal with the uncomfort to save a few gold."

     "Your choice of course, but two ponies will probably cost about the same as one horse you know... perhaps even a bit less."

     "I'll ride on the back with someone else who has a horse. I'm really light, so I doubt anybody's horse will mind. Especially if they are light too."

     Justin comments, "Regardless of the price for horses, it may be easier for you to handle a pony or mule due to the distance to the stirrups."

     The young man colors slightly. "Quite so. I forgot to mention that point. Thank you, sir Justin." Baclava ponders for a moment and then smiles. "Why don't you ride with me, sir Kaldari ? Gargamel can handle the load and you'll be with someone who knows how to control his horse in case of trouble... What do you say ?"

     "That is fine. I'll ride with whoever will have me."

     "Then it's a deal !" Baclava reaches accross the table and shakes hand with the diminutive... halfling. 

     Since no objections rise at Justin's idea he continues, "Very well then, while I have a few coins it is hardly enough to furnish everyone." Justin pauses to look for tactful words before he continues, "Karnath, how did you plan for transportation?  If it was by purchace via currency, may I have enough of the funds that we may aquire 5 horses and a trio of ponies? Say about 900 gp."

     Baclava twitches at the mention of the amount but says nothing. He looks around the table, counting heads. "Uh... I make it TWO ponies, sir Justin. Sir Kaldari said he definatly didn't want one for himself... He'll ride with me, I beleive." Justin nods.

     "I only have enough to cover the cost of my horse." Says Karnath. "So I cannot give you the 900 gp. My purse will be empty enough after purchasing mine.  Though I suspect you are a better judge of horses than I, so if you could assist me in the purchase I would be most thankful."

     Zak starts walking away. "I'll get us some rooms." With that, he walks over to the innkeep and gets the group rooms. Not single rooms though, at least two beds per room.

     "I suppose that's alright." Remarks Karnath when he is told of the arrangements. "I just hope whoever I am to share a room with does not mind that I wish to meditate for several hours. And during that time I would prefer silence."

     "Mmmmm... Roommates." Baclava's brow creases as he ponders the subject. "Alright... It seems obvious that lady Shirri and Rowan would share a room." He bows slightly in the ladies' direction. "As for the rest of us, how about... sir Zaknafein with sir Devian, sir Justin and Samuel (He'll be a good influence on the mage.), sir Kobbar and myself." He counts on his fingers and smiles, satisfied. "Which leaves brother Karnath in the company of sir Kaldari, a quiet sort if I ever saw one. What do you think ?"

     "Hey! I am NOT a mage!" piped up Smauel to the warrior. At the odd stares towards the midget magic-user, Samuel continued proudly "I happen to be an archmage of signifigant power." with that he weakly raised his arms in a flexing motion (which didn't change the shape of his scrawney arms whatsoever;), then cracked his fingers in one big stretch, and tingled his fingers while saying some odd word or other. At that, the bowl of peas in the center sparkled, a single, measly pea on the very top floating twelve whole inches above the others before dropping back onto the pile with a 'pock'.  Samuel "hack"ed on his nails, rubbing them on his shirt and smiling proudly.

     Baclava stares in wonder at the pea, then a Samuel and back at the pea. "So my mother was right after all... Big talkers ARE small doers ! I always thought that was... What do you call it ?... A figure of speech." The astonished warrior takes the resolution, right then and there, to never boast of his fighting ability ever again.

     "By the way, I was gonna room with Karnath, because we've been meaning to pool our spell knowledge for awhile, and we'd just keep everyone up while we memorized.  You get the idea. Is that okay with everyone?" No one objects to Samuel's suggestion, so it is settled.

     Growing bored, Kaldari wanders around, chatting a little with the other occupants of the tavern, but eventually coming back to the table.

     Shirri, taking her amethyst eyes from the introspective Zak's back and turning her attention back to the rest of the party, smiles and confirms that she will, indeed, be sharing a room with Rowan. "Speaking of which, dear, you're doing better now?"  The psionicist turned to the other female in the group.  "You had me--and the rest of us--worried for a bit..."

     In the middle of the conversation, a deep, bellowing voice shouts from the bar "Thief! That's my coin purse!". Standing up at the bar is what appears to be a mercenary of sorts. He glares down at an equally muscular sailor, a glistening cutlass strapped to his back. Standing up to face the armed warrior, the sailor looks down at the pouch in his hand with a puzzeled look. Then looking toward the warriors belt, recognition crosses his face. "No! You are the thief! That is my pouch, right there 
upon your belt!"

     If looks could kill, Kaldari would die a horrible, painful death from Zaknafein's. However, the warrior only murmurs "We'll talk about this later...", which only those paying attention to him can hear. To the others, he simply states : "This isn't Kaelind, we have no authority here. Let's not get involved."

     Aran's head jerks up from his meal when the first cry of "Thief!" sounds, and his eyes lock onto the two men. He doesn't seem to hear Zak's words, but doesn't move either, rather he sits perfectly still, tense and staring at the unfolding 'drama', in what appears to be either fear or, more likely, excitement.

     Devian, who is already standing, crosses his arms as a small smile appears on his normal serious face. "If these two mean wish to deal death to each other, by all means let them."

     While Justin's emerald eyes lock fully with the large spectacles of Samuel.  Noting the the little gnome's location, Justin stands while saying to Zaknafien, "It is a hypocrit that does what is right only in his home."

     Samuel just looks at the odd knight as he gets up, staring right back at him, then chuckling to himself as the armored fighters break their stare to go talk to the two men.  He spins around on his chair to face the argument, his hands twiggle slightly, one in his pouch grabbing a pinch of something or other...

     Walking to the men, Justin is quick to try to gather their attention. In a loud friendly voice, "Gentlemen! Calm yourselves. Clearly neither of you is at fault.  Let us return what is not ours and let me buy each of you a drink that this may be settled." Justin's face is nothing shy of a smile and his eyes are bright with friendship. Baclava settles himself behind sir Justin, ready to assist in case the two men make trouble.

     Devian's smile disappears when he notices that both Justin and Baclava are standing up to face the men. Devian then calmly places his hand on the hilt of his sword and sighs from his place near the table..."Death between fools is fine, however, it it unjust if death takes the life of men of noble hearts.  Unless of course if those noble hearts are faithless then it is perfectly fine.  Either way, you two are companions at arms and I shall assist you if needed."

     Samuel suddenly snaps his finger in what appears to be defeat, for some unknown reason.

     The two sailors consider the odds and, after trading purses, decide that they had better settle the matter in less formidable company. As they exit, Justin addresses the group. "The day is getting on and this little incident has gotten the blood flowing. If there are no objections, Baclava and I will go buy the horses and rejoin the group here at a later time." Everyone is in agreement so the duo exits.


BUYING HORSES - Shopping trip (New harbor, Junipar)

     While they are on their way to the stables, Baclava turns to Justin. "Uh... I don't doubt that you have a reason, sir Justin,... and I certainly don't know the local economy but... Isn't 900 gold TWICE what we need to buy the horses ?" He looks questioningly at the paladin.

     With a smile and a bright eye at Baclava's concern Justin answers, "It may be a bit excessive but, as you said, we do not know the economy or the exchange for our currency, much less how common are horses around here. Any left over, would be returned as appropriate, Baclava."

     The young fighter thinks about it a while and then nods his head. "You're probably right, sir Justin..." He smiles. "I don't see how horses could be LESS common though. As I hear it, Junipar is mostly horse pastures... long hilly plains you know ? They must have TONS of them..." He hits his hand with his mailed fist. "So the prices must be very low ! They're probably GIVING them away." He chuckles a bit, picturing it in his head. "I wonder if sir Zaknafein won't actually smile when he sees how little we paid... Eh ! Maybe we'll have enough left over to buy a few pack horses... Maybe even a cart !" Baclava starts walking faster, skipping every third step in anticipation.

     After asking their way only once, they arrived at their destination. In addition to the usual stalls, the Gilded Hoof is equipped with a sizable coral and a fair reputation for good horses. At this time of the day, only a few of them mile about the coral, most having retired to their stall. Keeping them company is a pair of attendants, talking in calm voices.

     Baclava dives right into the throng of the coral. "Rather nice lot they have here... Sir Justin ! This one could be good for sir Kobbar." He says, pointing to a sedate looking brown mare. "What do you think ?"

     They leasurely discuss the pros and cons of various beasts, before settling on five horses on three ponies. One of the attendants looks them over and announces a price.

     Baclava stares in disbelief at the attendant. "Can't be that much." He murmurs. "It's about the same we would pay at home... but they have those wide plains... many horses should make small prices... I think." The armored young man ponders this conundrum, counting on his fingers and grumbling to himself.

     "The prices are fine Baclava, just as the horses are." says Justin.

     He finally states. "Sir Justin... I think someone is killing their horses." He nods his head gravely, full of newfound wisdom... and then smiles. "Of course ! It's the cat-centaurs ! Silly me, I should've thought of it sooner. Those things uh... I mean people... are fierce eaters, I hear... and there's lots of them... Mmmmmmmm..." A short, contemplative silence ensues. Then, Baclava's eyes shine with the light of a brilliant idea. "Let's convince THEM to be our army, sir Justin ! I can see it now, a sea of spear and claws descending on the elves ! Glorious, it'll be GLORIOUS !... Let's go tell sir Zaknafein about it right now !" He tugs on Justin's armored sleeve, nearly jumping up and down in his excitement.

     Justin's face breaks into a bright smile as his head shakes slowly to either side. With a soft hand on his shoulder Justin attempt to calm the excited lad, "Baclava, unless your speculation of cat...things is substantiated, I suggest that we wait before acting upon it." Turning the stable hands, "My friends and I are to be in town for a short period of time, please make ready these fine horses while we eat and we shall return." With that said, Justin sees no reason to remain here. Facing the way out Justin bows slightly at the waist and with a sweeping
gesture to the exit speaks, "After you, sir."

     "Wow... That's the first time you've called me 'sir', sir Justin... I think I like it !... and I AM a member of the King's Own now, so I guess it's appropriate... You ARE higher than me though... Oh well, let's just enjoy it for now." The slightly blushing lad strides proudly through the gate, his eyes darting around to make sure he's seen by as many people as possible.

     On the way back, conversation picks up once more. "I mean no disrespect, sir Justin, but I don't see how you can say that cat-centaurs have no substance...Uh I must admit I've never seen one myself... but Renfray (He's my lord Father's aide, you know ?) says they're pretty big. About this tall." He raises his hand to a spot about one foot over his head. "and he's seen one rip a deer to pieces... Ghosts don't usually do that... at least not in the stories."

BREAK


TO NEW PAER - The story of my life (Between New harbor & New Paer)

     The group starts out early the next day, the sky is bright, and the sun fills the air with warmth. A strong breeze sweeps across the open farmland, throwing cloaks open to the wind. From the road, they can see farmhands bent over, harvesting this year's crops of wheat, the most plentiful crop of Junipar. Farmhouses dot the landscape here and there, but the majority of the view is devoted to the farmland ahead. Besides the usual horse and man tracks, it seems interesting to note that from some tracks on the road, large lions also seem to use this highway. By noon, the landscape gives way to unfarmed plains. 

     To pass the time on the long journey, Shirri takes the time to ask each person who feels like answering in turn, "Can you tell me about yourself--as much or as little as you like?"

     "Uh ?..." Baclava blinks a few times. "...I was under the impression you knew each other before this, lady Shirri. Are we all strangers then ?"

     As Shirri looks distracted again, Karnath takes it upon himself to answer. "We are all fresh on this quest, for prior to the four of you joining us we had only been aquainted with each other for a few days."  

     "Mmmm... Such rush is no doubt due to the presence of that unknown traitor in the court... Foul traitor, we shall kill you yet !..." Gargamel takes a few steps in silence as his rider is lost in thoughts of revenge. "So... who is to tell his tale first ?"

     "Well," Samuel began "I was born to my mother and father, prominent Gnomes in the Gnomish village.  I was littler than everyone else, but a lot smarter, and nobody managed to swat me, so I basically just did well in the illusion academy.  One day, after I finally learned The spell of invisibility, A mighty tarasque burst into the cavern..."

     Baclava seems to suddenly become very interested in the passing scenery. Noticing a small rabbit on the side of the road, he begins to hum a popular tune "... on the road of Biling um Umm ta... cooked it on the spit um de lalay..." which has the added benefit of droning out the sound of Samuel's voice from his head. The humming artist returns his attention to the conversation only when brother Karnath starts to tell his tale.

     "My past is not so glorious or heroic as yours, small one. I too, like Shirri, was orphaned at an early age, more by the dark nature of man than by any other hideous beast. My life after the unfortunate incident was not pleasant but then neither was it extremely harsh, it was more an existence than a life. That was until I found truth in the words of Chijor. Since the revelation of my calling, I have traveled the land helping those most in need with my healing talents. It was these talents that finally lead me to be one of the King's Own. I had been instrumental in the recovery of the son of a member of the nobility. The noble came to trust and rely upon me so much so that he introduced me to the king's court. I spent some time in the company of royalty until the king himself came to me and requested I join this mission." When Karnath finishes, there is a feeling that there is much more he isn't saying but he doesn't seem likely to elaborate on the subject anytime soon.

     Baclava seems mildly disappointed. "You skipped the best part, brother karnath ! Please tell us how you saved the King's son. His heir right ?... Certainly that's why He asked you to join..." He starts gesturing grandly, nearly knocking Kaldari off the horse. "So that you'd be one of the men... and lady, who saved Kaelind from the clutches of the elves."

     "Hey there.  Be careful, you have a passenger on board. Give me a warning in the future."

      The young man looks over his shoulder to the bearded halfling. "My apologies, sir Kaldari... But think of it, after this, we'll all be Heroes ! The King will pat us on the back and honor shall flow to our family... families !" He smiles widely, picturing it in his head... before snapping back to reality. "So... about that story, brother Karnath ?"

     "It was a nobleman's son that I was able to breathe life anew into, I may not have explained myself well on that. I have been a part of the king's court and have held council with him at times. My god given talents are why I have been in the presence of his majesty, so I was only called to his side when there was a need of such."

     Kaldari comments "And you don't need to have the king's seal of approval to be a hero. I've known quite a few heroes who were such DESPITE authority. In fact, it was the tyrrany which made them heroes."

     "Are you calling the king a tyrant ?" Baclava takes on an unusually stern tone. "I will remind you that you are a member of the King's Own and that...uh ?" He twists around to his left, dragging Kaldari to the right and then repeats the gesture on the other side with similar effect. "You're not wearing the King's armband !... Now that I think of it, you weren't mentioned in the King's letter either... Just what are you doing here... sir ?" The suspicious fighter tries to look Kaldari in the eyes, which is a bit difficult given their relative position. He only succeeds in staring down the top of his riding companion's head.

     "Your king has not given me any evidence to the contrary. But I would be amiss to judge him as a tyrant without further proof. I am here to protect a friend, who has a price on her head. (turns and nods to Rowan)  Unlike you, I hold loyalty to a friend much higher than loyalty to authority. Hopefully some day you'll realize how much more important friendship is than authority."

     "Since you have no proof one way or the other, I would thank you to keep a civil tongue when speaking of the King, sir." States Baclava rather dryly. "He is a great man by all accounts and deserves your respect... or at least your forbea... your Forbeer... your patience." He goes to say more, hesitates and then continues anyway. "and don't talk about things you know nothing about... like my loyalty... the strength of my friendship... or the lack of it."

     "I'll keep a civil tongue about your king, if I don't have to endure your idolization of him."

     "Sir, you are on a mission for the King. I don't know what you are doing here, but these men... and wowan are all members of the the King's Own, the King's elite guard" Baclava gestures to the others, making a circular motion to avoid Rowan. "and they all reconize the King as their lawfull and just ruler. I will speak of the King as much as I like and you WILL be civil when using His name or you will be asked to leave."

     There is a brief silence and Baclava looks around. "Uh... Is it my turn ?... Right. So uh... I'm not too good with stories so please bear with me... I was born uh 19 years ago in the castle of <mumble>... Had three older brother, still do actually... unless they died in the war of course... Naaah, they beat me up easily so a couple of elves should be no problem at all. " He smiles, proud of his brothers no doubt great accomplishments. "So, three, four years ago, my Lord Father comes to me and says that it was time for me to venture out into the world. Seems there was this family tradition that a young man had to venture out into the world and couldn't use the family name until he was worthy of wearing it... Never heard of it before then, but my Lord Father is the soul of truthfulness, so I went... 'Shouldn't take too long to prove myself worthy' I thought 'my brothers did it and I didn't even notice they were gone !'... It took me a bit longer than I first imagine... but now, I'm a member of the King's Own and, all together, we're going to SAVE Kaelind !... Father will be so proud..."

     Rowan squirms around for a bit, then decides to tell her tale. "I was brought up like most of my race, but one day that all changed. An elven raid on my family killed everyone else, and I was taken back to an elven castle to work as a slave. There, I was forced to steal and sulk around to mearly survive. However, a few months ago, I managed to escape and join up with this group. Then, a bit after I came here, I was nearly killed in a way I do not understand, when Darkkon died, my head felt like it had exploded, and I passed out. Why I tell you this is that I think it caused a gap in my memories, as I can't remember much of my time before that."

     Upon listening to each person's answer, Shirri tells part of her own history: "I was orphaned young, but I learned how to get by on the streets of the city...by unconsciously using my psionic abilities. I was technically a thief, but I only took from people who were themselves criminals. One day, the captain of the King's Own finally managed to catch me, and he seemed to be able to tell that I wasn't just a thief. He sponsored my training under a psionicist master and had me assigned to the King's Own, where I've been for the last year or so."

     The young warrior is appalled. "You were a thief ?... and a street rat ?" Such concepts obviously clash with his ideas of her. "And what's a psionicist ? Some kind of witch ?" He looks at Shirri, bracing himself for some other unpleasant revelation.

     "Be not harsh in your judgement of others who have had to resort to less savory methods to survive. There was a time in which I was labeled with the appelation of thief. Sometimes you do what you must to remain alive."

     "A thief is a thief." States Baclava stubbornly. "They don't contribute anything and they bother people... Good people. It is without honor... If lad... Um, no. If Shirri uh..." His shoulders drop. "Doesn't sound right either." He looks long to the lady in question, trying to come to some sort of conclusion. 'She sure looks beautiful on that whitish horse.' "Umm... You have been kind and calming ever since I met you... and the King did pick you for this mission so you can't be all bad... Are you indeed a witch ?... or a thief ?" The worried lad awaits her answer, filled with trepidation.

     Rowan grows red in the face at overhearing this, and shouts out to Baclava "All thieves are evil, are they? If it wasn't for my thieving, I would be a skeleton in an elven palace somewhere! Is that how it should be? Am I better dead then having to steal to live??"

     Baclava is somewhat taken aback at the halfling's intensity... He is quick to recover though. The now angry young man open's his mouth to shout back when brother Karnath starts to speak in a calm voice. "Rowan, the boy is young and impetuous. He is filled with visions of honor and glory.  While his view is clouded through the lack of tragedy, that is not necessarily bad.  Who amongst us would not give up our past horrors for a glimpse of the world though naive eyes?  Can you honesty say you would not change the slavery you have endured at the hands of the elves to a scenario where that had never happened?  I for one would give anything to have my parents back, (A slight rise in the volume of his voice.) and if anyone here has a grudge against thieves' it would be I....."  Karnath pauses, "Again my emotions get before my wisdom. Forgive me Rowan, I was only saying that the boy has much to learn and maybe it won't have to be by the same methods we have gained the knowledge."

     "Uh... Thank you, brother Karnath..." He throws the priest a bothered look, not sure if he's been insulted or not. "Have your parents been stolen ?" Baclava shakes is head free of that thought and re-focuses on Rowan, still a bit miffed. "Should I admire you for stealing ? Stealing may not be evil, but it certainly isn't honorable. You survived, but you are less than you could be... as brother karnath said... I think." He looks questioningly to the man in question.

     "Now that might not always be the case, there are often gray areas. Baclava, have you ever had to dispatch an enemy by killing him? Aren't those cases where you have TAKEN the life of a foe?  Would you consider yourself a thief for such actions?  Even though, had you not done so, you might be the one who was robbed of life?"

     "Yeah," says Samuel, "I mean, you humans tend to eat meat alot.  does that mean that we're all murderers?  or thieves, as we steal their lives away.  Personally, I don't think it's wrong to steal if it's for the right reasons, like if I stole the key to the dungeon of some evil wizard or black knight to save one of you guys.  I'd do it, and heck, if I was stolen from I'd still be annoyed, but if it was for a good cause, I might agree, you know?  Oh, and Rowan?  for all you know, they wouldn't of stuck you in jail to rot, they'd have probably merely killed you out of hand for being a thief in the prince's castle; it's what Humans'd do, at least the ones I've read of."

     "I am NOT a thief... because... uh... That's not... well." Baclava looks around, seeking an answer in his surroundings and finding none. Confused and even somewhat distressed, he ventures "Uh...  Because I didn't sneak around ? Yes. Half the time, they attacked ME... and otherwise I challenge THEM... or my superiors did anyway... There was SOME sort of challenge I'm sure... So I AM NOT a thief."

     Rowan makes a sound that could be muffled laughing, but you can't be sure.

     Samuel starts to speak "well, come on, Baclava; you were given orders to steal lives?  have you ever heard of contracts on items?  thieves commissions, or other such summons from their superiors in a guild or band?  Who says that your superiors are much better than theirs?  The fact is, the only reason your bosses are called 'the boss' is by a general agreement between everyone involved in..."

     The young man's eyes unfocus and start drifting on the scenery as Samuel's voice drones on in the background. 'Even has sort of melodic lilt to it.' He muses. A bird passes overhead... and tumbles in a cross wind. Baclava chuckles lightly... Samuel does too. 'Uh ?' He blinks a few times and starts listening once more.

     "...well, she'd survived the knife blow, greatly humbled by the experience, and soon decided to take up the robes of a mage, but she died of some obscure thing or other before she attained any significant power, or even the full ranking of mage, for that matter."

     "Uh... Very interesting. Still... I am not a thief."

     "No of course not." Explains brother Karnath. "At least not in the classic sense of the term.  But you have admitted to taking something that was precious and dear to another, their lives.  I have been guilty of this and of the more traditional idea of thievery.  I no longer practice the art of acquiring others possessions as fate had other things in store for me. I did not mean to insult you but to say there are a great many ways to look at someone, whether they are noble warriors or sly thieves', makes no difference. The capacity for evil is in all of us and must be tempered with wisdom and intelligence every day for if let to grow unhindered it will consume us.  Rowan has not shown me that whatever evil is in her has begun to grow just as Baclava has always appeared to me as honorable. Until I see thier souls begin to get clouded with darkness I have no reason to accuse or demean them for the way they have lived their lives."

     "Uh... Quite... Stealing is still bad right ?... Something you wouldn't want to do all the time ?"

BREAK

     Turning to Baclava, Kaldari speaks "Well since the group here knows I am also a psionicist ("TWO witches" murmurs Baclava.), I'll explain. But first, don't ever call a psionicist a witch. We are as much witches as mages or clerics. A psionicist has the ability to use his inner energy to perform functions similar to magic. For example, the party has seen me use my inner energy to create portals."

     Karnath takes on a didactic tone. "Kaldari, I believe there is a greater difference between witches and pscionisics that there is between mage and cleric, for I blur the lines between the latter. Witches typically lean towards the darker forces of nature and gods to draw their power. Pscionicist it would seem draw their power from, as Kaldari explained, an inner energy. I am quite unfamiliar with the powers of the mind, but it cannot be anything as sinister as witchcraft."

     "Uh... Quite. Getting back to the subject... I take it psionicists are some kind of magic-users who create pieces of furniture ?" Asks Baclava rather tentatively. 'Not nearly as bad as I thought.' "I guess I can see the use of it... You're pursued by a troop of ogres in some dank cavern and <poof> there's a solid oak door between you and them... Should also be quite practical when camping out." He smiles. "Chairs and coat racks and... BEDS ! Could you make me a bed, sir Kaldari ?... Of course we don't have the mattress to go with it Mmmmm... Can you create that as well or just the frame ?"

     Karnath lets out a small chuckle at the comments of Baclava, then under his breath and barely audible, "If only we could all see the world through those eyes again."

     Samuel scratches his chin thoughtfully, "It'd probably be easier if he wore spectacles..."

     Kaldari sneers "Your sense of humor is well.... annoying.  I could demonstrate the real power of psionics to you, but why waste my effort on a simpleton such as
yourself."

     Baclava abruptly stops his horse. Those facing him can see that his smile of expectation is gone, his jaw is set and that he's getting redder by the minute. "Get off my horse... <labored breathing> I will not stand by and let myself and the King be insulted by one such as you... If this is how you answer questions... Get off my horse NOW !"

     Shirri, whose silence during the escalating exchanges between Kaldari and Baclava was due to her unusual wave of reticence in following through on her instinct to join Zaknafein at the forefront of the riders, snapped out of her reverie in time to notice the young cavalier's halting of his mount... "STOP that this instant!" the ravenhaired woman exclaimed to both Baclava and Kaldari, wheeling her own mount to face them fully. "All this anger...over mere words?  We are a team, sirs, and must work together to achieve our mutual objective--to unite against the elves who seem hell-bent on taking over all of Kaelind.  Sniping at each other and refusing to share a mount is the behavior of children who don't know better--and you two are old enough to know how to behave!"  An ebon eyebrow arched over the amethyst eye that pinned first the knight then the halfling in its penetrating regard.

     Baclava is somewhat cowed but still manages to speak. "With all due respect, lad..." His shoulder slump slightly. "...Uh... This man called me a... 'simpleton'... For no reason that I can see. If I were to act like an adult, I would've challenged him on the spot... Not sharing my horse seems the least I can do... to show that... well, I won't be insulted."

     "I cannot make you two stay on the same horse, though, if you mutually agree NOT to share the ride..." she finally conceds, glancing at the others. "...As I am presently sharing my own mount with Samuel, though, I would ask if anyone else has the room to take Kaldari upon their horse...?"

     There is a short silence before Karnath speaks up "As I am partially responsible for Kaldari's remaining with the group, he is welcome to share my horse with me.  I am not as good a rider as I am sure Baclava must be but I am sure we can make do."

     Kaldari gladly gets off. He would not want to ride with Baclava under the circumstances. The young fighter frees up one stirrup to allow him to descend, though he doesn't help him in any other way.

     Once the issue of Kaldari is resolved, Shirri answers Baclava's remaining
questions about her personal revelations. "Witches use otherworldly energy to acheive their effects, Baclava," Shirri told him with a faint smile, "Whilst I rely wholly upon the energy of my own self to perform certain talents...so I have no claim to the title of Witch, Wizard nor Mage.  As for the thief appellation--I must, in all honesty, admit to having stolen before I was picked to be in the King's Own.  But, know you, sir knight, that the MOTIVATION of any action is very important to how such action can be perceived.  I was subjected to the usual divinations made by the King's personal cleric, and was judged to be...oh, how did she put it..?" The psionicist mused, then nodded.  "...ah, yes...I was judged to be 'free from the taint of being malicious for its own sake.'  Thus was I allowed into the ranks of the King's Own."

     Baclava manages a weak, relieved smile even though he's still bothered by the previous events. "Then 'lady Shirri' you shall remain." He sights in relief and bows slightly to said lady on her whitish horse. He then nudges his own horse into motion once more.

     Zaknafein's face, as usual, shows no emotion. When finally everyone looks at him expectantly, he sighs. "unlike many of you, my fate was not sealed by dead parents, obligations to prove myself or even by an imaginary Tarrasque." he says the last word with disgust, "I was the only one responsible. I was born in a noble family in good standing and educated in the manner of the court. ('At last someone with a good background and upbringing !') I showed great promise in the art of war and strategy and also was passionate about it. Back then I was idealistic and foolish, not unlike Baclava here... (Baclava smiles proudly... then frowns... then smiles again, though less widely.) I joined the militia where my talents were quickly picked up by the Captains of the King's army. I proudly, and foolishly, followed them to war, where I wrecked havoc upon my enemies. My men pillaged our enemies' houses and raped their wives, but I closed my eyes, knowing it was necassary to keep their morale high. ('Unbecoming of a soldier !')" here, Zak seems to skip quickly over the details, "Then as some of you already know... I got married and had two children. But war called me away again... I was too good... while I was away, our enemy attacked and destroyed my hometown... my children were..." His voices catches in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he manages to continue, "while my wife was raped... just as I let my men do... then they killed her too... As I let happened to my enemies, because I was a good little soldier... and listened to orders... and loved war." 

     His face still as emotionless as stone, Zaknafein shifts in the saddle. If any look closely, they could notice his hands trembling slightly. "I then decided to make a real difference, rather than fighting meaningless wars or seeking empty glory. They only bring pain and suffering. Excuse me... I need some fresh air..." Zak speeds his horse into a trot and rides further in front of the others, knowing he had said too much. 

     There is a heavy silence after Zak's departure. "Ahum... Rather... sad." Baclava shifts uncomfortably in his saddle. "Still... He did bring some dishonor to himself by allowing his men to dishonor themselves... I think... I'm pretty sure Father... I mean, my Lord Father wouldn't tolerate such things. " This thought seems to bring him SOME comfort. "...Brother Karnath... If you wouldn't mind... Maybe something for sir Zaknafein's wife ?... and uh... children ?"

     "I have made my prayers for his family, but I believe he is in more need of our prayers now.  He has a void in his heart now that none of us can fill, and he has lost his faith in Chijor.  Until he can let the wound he has suffered heal the best we can do is pray for him.  His family are now beyond the pain and suffering of this world, he is not. But if you all wish to share your concerns with Chijor I will lead the prayer."  Karnath takes a deep breath and begins, "Oh great Chijor, whose light leads us through the darkest of times, have mercy on the souls of the those who have been wronged by war and bring your healing touch to Zaknafein's heart.  Now let's have a moment of silence in which we can all make our peace with our lord."

     Baclava stops his horse with everyone else and bends his head. In his thoughts, he adds 'I'd also like to ask for the quiet rest of sir Zaknafein's wife... and children. Hope that's not a bother... Thank you.'

     Then, they ride once more, still in silence. "Maybe... Maybe a song would be appropriate ?... A death dirge or something." Baclava scratches his head, trying to think of something that would fit the occasion. "How about 'River to the sea' ? That's sad enough."

     "Maybe some music to accompany the others voice, eh?" Karnath then pulls out his flute and begins playing the song Baclava suggested.

     Rowan speaks up, saying "No, I think a more appropriate song for a death would be along the lines of 'come fly with me in my beautiful balloon'." Then she begins to giggle madly, before finally saying through peals of laughter, "Remember that time when Darkkon was still with us, and he made that corpse fly? and it landed on someone?" Rowan manages to control her laughter after a few seconds "sorry, I guess it isn't something to laugh about, but..." Rowan trails off into giggles.

     Karnath stops his playing briefly and turns to the halfling, "That is sometime I have tried to forget. Despite Darkkon's demise I still have some anger toward him for that deception." Then Karnath asks the rest of the group, "What would everyone consider an appropriate song for such an occation?"

    "You find tragedy... amusing ?" The young fighter looks quizzically at Rowan. "I guess people cope like they can... What's a balloon ?"

BREAK

     Several hours before dusk, the group see a large, silvery creature wheeling in the sky above them. It swoops into a dive, descending for the party, panic grips you as you realize what the shape is. Dragon. But as soon as you realize the beast, you realize it metallic color, which seems to shed rays of light off as though the sun where falling down upon you, so bright is the light. And then, fifty feet from the ground, it shoots skyward, giving you a clear view of it's sixty foot long frame. It heads off towards the west, in the direction you were traveling at breakneck speed, far too fast for your horses to follow for long.

     As the sun finishes its journey toward the horizon, you come across a grisly sight. Fresh Blood lies in pools across this particular section of road.  As you approach hyenas scatter from their feeding on sixteen corpses of men and lions. No, wait, that would be lion-men, although it's hard to tell, with the level of dismemberment the corpses have received. Most have large gashs, like those inflicted by axes, while others smashed to pieces. Most interesting are two corpses which are totally blackened and charred.  You also notice that 8 of the bodies are wearing bright green sashes, or what's left of the sashes, while five different lion-men are wearing dark purple straps across their torsos. The other three lion men have nothing of the kind on them. Also lying in the blood is what once might have been a blue riding cloak, but is now nothing more then rags.

FINAL BREAK

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HOW BACLAVA ENTERED THE RANKS OF THE KING'S OWN (...Possibly ;) :

     Baclava was part of a group of 5 hired to guard a local baron. The barony is of small size and has never been very profitable. In recent years, frequent flooding and general bad weather have driven the baron's family to the edge of poverty. Funds are scarce and only a few old-timers remain as symbolic guards. 
     To make matters worse, a series of strange accidents had begun to plague the family's holdings. Rumor has it that their neighbor to the east is responsible and, since the baron has refused to sell, plans to send assassins to finish the job. Fearing for his life and that of his family, the baron scrapped what little valuables he had left and convinced a group of adventurers to protect him. The clincher in the deal was the promise to introduce the group to one of the king's counselor who was an old war buddy of the baron's father... that and the impassionnate speech of Hecate, the party's priestess. 
     Unfortunately, the party was a bit light on fighter power at the moment. Alcione had recently married and Gengis Vitis, the only other heavy hitter in the group, had left some time earlier after a heated argument over where he could or could not put his hands. 
     An announcement was quickly drafted and posted in inns across the region. 'Seeking fighter. Bad pay, Good actions. Mama's boy need not apply.' Out of the few applicants present at the interview, the party hired a young warrior by the name of Baclava. As Kizarvexius, mage extraordinair, put it : 'He's not too bright, but how much brains do you need to swing a sword anyway ? Besides, he's built like a house and he brings his own gear !'.
     Anticipating that the assassins would try to sneak up on the baron to do their dastardly deeds, the group set up a series of ambushes around the small manor. Baclava, while doing his rounds in the front garden, noticed that the grass was suspiciously shorter in a section of the yard. 'If the grass is shorter... that means it hasn't been growing for as long as the grass next to it.' he reasoned. 'So... Somebody must've hidden something underneath !'. Proud of his deduction, the blond genius extracted a shovel from his pack and started digging in earnest.
     Baclava was still digging an hour later. He was now at the bottom of a 3m pit and piles of earth marred the baron's adjacent flower beds. The smiling young man was preparing to pull up another load of earth when the ground started to rumble. 'Now we're getting somewhere !' He exclaimed. The burly warrior was caught completely by surprise when the floor under him erupted in a watery geyser. "AAAAAAHHHHH ! I CAN'T SWIM !" He screamed as the mighty column of water flung him into the air. Luckily, the thunderous waters crashed the garden shed and Baclava was able to cling to pieces of wreckage as he hurtled down the slope of manor hill. "@#*<& !" cried the distraught young man.
     His displeasure was echoed by a group of man-at-arms at the bottom of the hill. The neighbor apparently had had a falling out with his assassins and decided to send two scores of his fighters instead, with orders to burn the manor to the ground. The sight of the churning wall of water topped by debris and accompanied by virulent cursing sent them all running for cover. They couldn't outrun the flood though and nearly half of the thugs were battered to unconsciousness by the falling wave. 
     Upon re-gaining their feet, the confused survivors were greeted by a terrifying sight. A vaguely human monstrosity was advancing toward them in a horrible, shambling gait. Its limbs dripped with caked mud, plant matter and wood chips. Its misshapen right arm ended in a gleaming length of steel which it waved in threatening manner. The monster cut down George and Harold were they stood. "Sland und Sublender !" Its voice sounded like a watery grave, gravely and liquid. "AAAh ! The spirit of the land is angry !" cried Unboleth and he ran, taking half the remaining ruffians with him. The rest unsheathed their swords and charged the abomination...
     When the rest of the party finally arrived at the bottom of the hill, they found Baclava on hands and knees, coughing up a sizable amount of water and muck. Surrounding him were the bodies of many men, clad in the uniform of their enemy. "Un-freaking-believable !" Exclaimed Kizarvexius.
     The counselor's comments on hearing of the deed were more measured. "Impressive..." And, after due consideration while sipping a cup of tea, "Would you accept a commission in the King's Own ?".

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CHARACTERS :
DM : Ryan Brackney <leveric@hotmail.com>

Aran Kobbarson, warrior		Steve Papaya <papaya02@yahoo.com>
	   Aran is an extremely tall man, around 7 feet tall. He is dressed head to foot in furs and leathers of many wild animals, but you can see a rather large morningstar hanging at his belt.  His hair is short and spikey, contrasting sharply with his strange, pale blue eyes. Despite his obviously outlandish appearance, he has a warm, friendly smile, and a jovial air about him.

Justin, paladin	Chris Ahrens, Christopher_J_Ahrens@marforres.usmc.mil  
     Beneath the glistening surface of the steel armor he wears, he stands a full six feet tall.  A length of black hair is cut close and well out of reach of the armor's plates.  His face is soft, tanned, and very handsome. His eyes are a contrasting pool of emerald waters. Sheathed at his side, is the elegant length of a steel bastard.  Over the oiled surface of his armor a tabard blows about in the breeze.  It bears no national emblem, just that of Bel the power of Light.  A like symbol is embossed upon the surface of his shield.  He presence casts an aura of benevolence, courage and caring.

Baclava, warrior	Frederic Fleury <fred.fleury@mailcity.com>

Devian Necrobane, warrior	Francisco Gumataotao,getsome@netpci.com
     Devian has black hair and eyes to match.  His body is muscular and his skin is tanned from constant labor and traveling under the sun.  He wears black plate mail with a black cloak that is fastened by a silver holy symbol of Kelemvor "Lord of the Dead."  Around his neck is a silver holy symbol of Kelemvor and on his forehead is another silver holy symbol that rests in front of his circlet.  He is clean cut and his hair is cut short falling up to his neck.  He wears a leather bag slung over his right shoulder to rest on his left hip and has a 2 handed silver broadsword in its sheath on his right hip.

Samuel, mage               | Elias Scorsone  | seven.scorsone@sympatico.ca
     The floating robed figure turns into a tiny robed figure, standing below him as he fades.  His robes are red, but end at his hands and feet, tiny purple-clad toes peeking out underneath.  His hair flows down his back in a thick white shock, down to his waist.  His beardless face is aged and wrinkled, deep tan covering it like like well aged leather.  Around his mouth and neck is a large purple scarf, a long (long) nose over it holding up large, thick glasses, giving his eyes the look of really-bigness in the shadow of a great, red, wide brimmed hat. On his back is a small cloth napsack with the look of books in them.  on his chest is a round O, painted in black, simply.

Shirri Vreen, psyonicist           | Donna           | DonnLaP@aol.com     
     Beside him is a slender human woman with raven hair and amethyst eyes, dressed in black from head to toe, with only the silver daggers of her bandolier and her blue/green King's Own armband relieving the somber garb.

Karnath, priest         | Curtis Price    | cjprice@airmail.net
     Stepping out on the deck of the ship is a tall, slender, dark haired human with a neatly trimmed beard.  His bright golden tinted robe was well kept and around his neck hung the symbol of Chijor.  He was obviously not accustomed to the constant movement of the ship but seemed to be handling it reasonable well.

Kaldari                | Josh Kaufman    | jkauf@mpb.com
     Next is what looks to be a halfling. Although it isn't that obvious because, unlike other halflings, this one has a long light colored beard. He also has blonde hair and brown eyes.  He is about 3.5 feet with a shortsword to his side. He has black pants and a dark brown shirt, which is covered by dark brown leather armor.

Zakafein Eveningstar, warrior   | Steven Tremblay  | stremblay@hotmail.com
     A man steps out from below deck and stands before the gnome. Standing just below six feet, he looks pretty ordinary with his short brown hair and clean-shaven face. His face however, shows the calm and determination of a seasoned warrior. He wears a worn plate mail with the armband of the King's Own on his arm and a shield is on his back. In his hands, held in a defensive position, is a long bastard sword. He speaks in a calm and controlled voice tinged with a noble accent.

Rowan                  | Robert Andrews  | kimple@yahoo.com
     Rowan stands a diminituve three and a half feet tall, her shoulder length brown hair swaying in the wind. She looks around with intelligent eyes, as if she knows more then she's telling. She wears a dark green tunic that reaches to her knees, as if it was ment for a much larger person, but it seems to do little to impede her quickness. A pair of simple brown pants, these correctly sized, adorn her legs, and look good aginst her black slippers and belt. On the belt is a single dagger with an ornate looking pommel.

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