Episode 1: A Journey Begins

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"Are you sure you know where your going?" asked Isobel, somewhat dubiously.

"'Course I do! Why, it's only been, uh --", Uther scratched his head and thought a moment. "Well, maybe thirty years since I was out this way..."

Isobel smirked. "Thirty years?"

"Maybe fourty," mumbled Uther.

"You don't really remember the way, do you?" Isobel tried hard to suppress her smile.

"'Course I do! It's just that I'm gettin' a headache, and I hate walkin'!" Uther swung around his leather wineskin, and grimaced that it was only half-full. I knew I shoulda brought six skins, he thought to himself grumpily. I'm gonna run outta beer... After a short stop for a long pull from the skin, Uther looked around. "This way," he pointed.

"Ssh!"

Uther belched. "What?"

"I hear... splashes!" Isobel stalked off in approximately the opposite direction from where Uther had pointed.

"Splashes? Great, splashes..." Uther mumbled. "Hey, wait up! Don't you remember tha' dwarves don't run!"

Uther could hear the brook before he could see it. He steeled himself -- it's only a little water, nothin' to be afraid of, he thought -- and stepped out. Funny, I don't remember any brook...

A wide bridge arched over the water, and Isobel stood in its middle, looking down at something swimming below. Uther peered down over the bank, and saw a silvery shape deftly moving in the current. Big fish, he thought, licking his lips.

The figure stopped swimming and poked its head up through the water, seeing his guests. "Oh! Hullo!" said the head. It was man-shaped, with fin-like ears, gold, iridescent skin, large brown eyes and short, aquamarine hair.

Damn, it talks, thought Uther. They probably won't let me eat it.

"Who are you?" asked Isobel.

The fishman climbed up on shore. "My name is Ioan," he said. "Who are you?"

"I am Sister Isobel," answered the woman. "And he," she looked over at her companion. "Uther! What's wrong!"

Uther stood at the edge of the bridge, looking at it dubiously. "Doesn't look very solid," he answered, warily, kicking the bridge solidly. A rock fell off the side and landed with a large splash in the water. "I'm just gonna walk around..."

Ioan dressed himself in his patterned, silk robes. "There's nothing for at least a mile in every direction," he said. He surveyed the bridge: it was an old, stone bridge that had probably been built many generations ago by very skilled crafters. It had just a whiff of magick about it, tooo... "That bridge will hold you, I'm sure of it."

"Come on, you!" teased Isobel. She reached over and grabbed Uther's wine skin.

Curious, Ioan began to dance a little step and sing wordlessly, drawing his magick to him. The wine skin lifted out of Isobel's hands and flew over the bridge. Letting out a cry of loss, Uther momentarily forgot his trepidation and charged after the bridge after his beer with surprising speed. Grabbing hold of it, he took a long drink.

"Ahem!" cut a voice across their laughter. Edgar, the butler, stood stiffly nearby. "Mister Uther, I presume? If you'll follow me to the house, the master is waiting." And with that, he turned and strode off to the mansion.

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