Jimmy

Dragons! Bracht had to restrain himself from interrupting with questions as a child might. This was truly a gathering of strange and wonderous individuals. Would they have anything to gain by his presence, or was he merely to play a supporting role for this bard's tale unfolding? Pixies and hexapumas and dragons, evil Dukes and gypsy fortune tellers and arch Druids--it was a saga in the making! But would anyone remember Bracht's part in it? Assuming he had a part, of course. 'Yes', he decided silently. 'They will remember. I will make sure of it.'

Bracht stood a moment longer, hands clenched at his sides and glaring between the two dwarves. Finally he sighed, then chuckled. "Why not?" he asked rhetorically. "I've already been this much a fool, might as well see it out." He turned a baleful look upon the dwarven prince. "But not because of what you say, dwarf. I stay or go by my own choice." Once that had been made clear he nodded to himself once, then to the others in recognition. "Bracht, I am, of the Helegorn clans. Which one is none of your business." His smile belies his tone, however, and the big man visibly relaxes. "And to answer your question, short one, the balder--beldakar---the whatever you called him, the Duke, hasn't marched on the city yet, but he's nearly cut it off from the world. I walked out the gates and made my way through the forest, avoiding patrols as I could."

After the sharing of information had ended, or at least tapered off--Bracht doubted he'd ever know everything about these folk--the clansman stood and stretched, walking over to see to Mahvros one last time before preparing for the night. "So what is it you all have planned, then?" Pulling an oatcake from his saddlebags Bracht fed the horse and rubbed his forehead, chuckling with the brute butted his head too hard into Bracht's cuirass. "It would seem if you didn't have need of an axeman before you soon will, and I've heard enough to know that there are tales to be told of your adventures, and I'd just as soon hear my name in them as not. So," he turned to face the gathering, "what next?"

"Plans!... That's a good one!"  Sandros slaps Ven on the back.
Tav catches the bug from Ven's barely controlled laughter: "Our short term plans are to eat dinner.  Long range plans are to have breakfast tomorrow"  And he too starts laughing like a child in a church.  His words give the giggling disease to Quill the usually staid Ranger.
Myr listens and begins to giggle.  Soon she is doubled over, nearly howling at the thought that this group would have a "plan"... she laughs so hard she finds she needs to bolt over into the bushes to relieve herself.  She returns still chortling, as she remembers all the "plans" the group had developed in the last few days.

Avon laughs to himself at of  this bunch of fools....Why... they'd have accomplished nothing at all if HE had not been here.  They'd have probably been killed a dozen times over.  He began to wonder to himself if he didn't have some responsibility for them.  RESPONSIBILITY ??  His mind ran from the word... and yet, he did feel bound to them somehow.  They'd never acknowledge him or thank him for being the leader -- but he was the one who DID the IMPORTANT things.

But Andrew was not laughing.

This day it seemed was getting better and better. Still realing from the whole Kalban situation Andrew's normally calm demeanor is stretched right to the limit by this "wanted" poster. This so called "duke" better have strong and powerful friends if his path ever crosses Andrew's. After recounting all he knows of pixie's and puma's and listening to the others Andrew rereads this poster and the disbelief is plain on his face.

Shaking his head he paces back and forth angrily. An outright attack on nature such as this cannot be allowed. It seems to Andrew that this poster was made just to make him angry, his friends, druids, pixies and hexapuma's all. Unacceptable.

Turning to Kalban Andrew asks, "Obviously my friend you have plans for dealing with this foolish man who has so overstepped his bounds. Even overlooking the past, if one was inclined "Andrew looks deeply at his lifelong friend with these words, "something needs to be done!"

For Andrew at least it is as if the Dwarven prince and their previous mission has ceased to exist.

Daggda is still pondering Bracht report on the current state of Squarento as Andrew finishes speaking to Kalban. Watching the elf brim over with an almost dwarvish thirst for vengence, Daggda tried to discern his thinking. "Yes, something larger is at stake here." Something suddenly occured to her, and glanced over at Prince Geodon and Kalban, wondering if they were already way ahead of her thinking. "Right now, Duke Athring thinks that Prince Geodon is out of the way, disposed of by the Mark. A few days from now, maybe less, he will know that is not the case... Now, we can take advantage of this to get the Prince back into Squarento, with the plainsman's help. If he snuck out, he can sneak back in." She pauses, looking at Bracht intently before continuing. "Or, we can keep the Prince's whereabouts secret for now, and allow the Duke the show his hand."

Turning back to Kalban she asks, "Is there any-" she stops herself from saying the word 'sorcery', "-magic we could use to send a message to King Basalt, so he would know who Prince Geodon's captors were? I'm sure he would be very interested in knowing of the Duke's plans for Squarento. What do you think, your majesty? Would it not give your father the time to help defend his ally?" She waits for the Prince's response, bracing herself for yet another barrage of insults.

Both Kalban and Geodon turn and stare at the Acolyte of Moradin, as if she had thrown explosive powder into the campfire.  Both begin to speak at once.  Their body language quiets those who might be still laughing.

K: "Keep it secret?  ..."
G: "You have proof that Velluth
K: "...That's possible, but I dont see how ..."
G: " ..was responsible for kidnapping me?  .."
K: " ...we could get all of you into the city.  ... "
G: "...This changes everything. "
K: "... It would take a few days to set up..."
G: " ..."I must know this proof immediately!"
K: "...Maybe shelgnarx avicor "

As Kalban utters those strange sounding words in a language understood by none of the party, Geodon's eyes nearly pop out of his head.  It seems that, even as he was peppering Daggda with his questions about proof of his abductor's identity, he had heard at least some of Kalban's words.  He turns now to the elven mage sitting so casually on a fallen log.  "I will not fly on the back of any accursed flemkag."  The dwarven Prince shouts.

"Flemkag? ... FLEMKAG??" Thought Daggda, recognizing the dwarven warrior-slang word.  "A dragon ??"  Those in the group who know the dwarven tongue were somewhat puzzled at the word at first ... but a little reflection led them to the right understanding:  for flemkag literally translates as "forge-mouth lizard" -- and that could only be a fire-breathing dragon.

Geodon's voluble outburst brings all casual conversation around the campfire to a stop.  After a heartbeat, Kalban speaks softly into the silence, "Would you mind bellowing a little louder, my Lord?  I fear that Velluth's men in Riverside may not have heard you clearly."

Uncharacteristically, Prince Geodon bites back his response to the rebuke, yet his face turns nearly purple.  He turns instead to the other dwarf in the group, biting off each word he utters.  "Daul of Grim ... Annar... before you plunge the kingdom of My Father, Basalt Rex, and a generation of dwarven warriors, into this war-that-is-not-yet-a-war ... tell me what proof you have that Velluth, Duke of Athring -- or Supreme _whatever_ of the  Benignity of _whatsis_ -- is behind the kidnapping."

"Proof?" thought Daggda, more than a little taken aback at Geodon's outburst, and the serious thought that her words might be sending a dwarven kingdom into war. She looks quickly around at the other members of the party, for surely all of them had the same thoughts ... She swallows hard, her mouth dry.  "Well, I just assumed... he was allied with the Mark and the Mark's Arm kidnapped you and... Well, I guess I don't have any actual proof."

"Wait, wait," Veneron interjects. "Before you all begin litigating and legislating and warmongering and whatnot, the rest of us are tired and hungry. Kalban, can you point us in the right direction; we'd be happy to get dinner prepared. Quill may even be able to hunt some game so that we aren't a burden on your larder."

Tavarak ponders Kalbans words, as well as his offer. His mind resting easier knowing that Quill wasn't in any danger from the sword. Mulling over the elf's offer Tav examines the options. What incredible insights into magic could the bard gain from such a tutor. Tav looks about at his companions, wondering would would be willing to take on such a huge responsibility. No the bard would not ask any of his companions. Later he would suggest that the elf pose the question to the companions, and let them make up their own minds.

There were just to many things to be done before another quest could be undertaken, the destruction of the vile creatures in the local area, the safe return of the prince, and of course the terrible sickness coursing thur sandros's body. And what of the plainsman, who was he, what role did he play in all of this. Had the seer guided him here for a purpose, or was this just a chance meeting of sorts. So many events unfolding so very quickly. Tavarak half heartedly listens to the campfire conversation, truly amazed at the wealth of knowledge imparted by each and every member of the little group. The bard seeming preoccupied, his mind wandering, catching only bits of the conversation, ...."War"...."Dragons"... what was just over the next horizon for the assembled group.

Things just seem to be flying around out of control for Andrew. Did the prince say something about riding flemkags? What the hell is that, he wonders to himself? Andrew thoughts aren't on avoiding the duke and his army but instead his mind is conjuring plans for the terrible man's demise.   

And what's all the talk of proof? Andrew doesn't think there is any and is anxious to hear about that too.

Wholeheartedly agreeing with Ven about getting something to eat and a bit more rest Andrew hopes that is what the group will decide for right now. Too many conflicting emotions are pulling at the druid and he needs some time to meditate and speak to Najela for guidance.

Kalban smiles at the others' ideas -- reading their minds about a nice comfortable night in his underground home and a  meal prepared by Aami.  "Sorry," he says with a rueful smile, "but we're camping out tonight.  I've got almost everything packed up and ready to move. --- Yes, " he explains to the astonished looks from the adventurers, "with a little etherial help, you can get a whole house packed in just a day or two.  But don't worry about your animals... they're safe and will be here in the morning."

Under the shelter of the nearby overhang, the campfire provides a little light... it's warm enough that no one needs the heat from a large fire.  Kalban & Quill go out into the nearby woods and come back in a few minutes with a brace of pheasants and some fruits.  The birds are quickly spitted and the conversation about possibilities and options goes on thru the cooking, amid the eating, and into the post-dinner time.

The watch rotation is decided, but no one is ready for sleep just yet.  There is light until almost 10pm at this time of year, and it was not much of a strenuous walk from the cliffs.  It's people's brains that are tired .... they have to begin to grapple with the idea of how to smuggle a very well known face into Squarento, how to avoid the army that's surrounding the city, what the situation might be inside... and how to get out again.


Relieved that a camp site has been decided on and feeling about as secure as possible with his friends all around, Andrew heads off a short way to find a nice quiet spot for some restful prayer and meditation. Once he finds a suitable spot Andrew will spend a couple of hours there to rest his weary mind and find a little inner peace.

After a time the whole thing seems a lot less worrysome. It seems to him that most of those on the "duke's" wanted poster are VERY resourceful and have little to worry about even if an entire army was chasing them. Whether the peaceful rest or divine guidance from Najela, Andrew feels better and more in control when he returns to the camp.

Bracht spends much of the time listening to the others banter back and forth, picking up bits and pieces of who they are. An individual lot, no question. Gathered together by some means to go about on their task of rescuing the dwarven prince and oppose the Duke's ambitions. Some, it seems, know others better than others, but for all it's outwardly chaotic appearance the party seems to fit together in many ways. Bracht wonders if one day he'll fit in with them, as well. Then he wonders if that is a good thing or not.

"'Tis the prince I'm worried about," Bracht is saying later that night. He idly ran an oiled cloth over his small axe by the light of the fire. He nodded toward the dwarf in question. "How to get him into the city is a problem. They'll be looking closely at the shorter folk entering the city. The rest of us could no doubt pass ourselves off as bounty hunters to the soldiers--we certainly look the type--and those in the city aren't overly suspicious yet. They have their mind-readers checking any who might be a problem. Mayhap by water? Does the Duke have a sizeable navy with which to blockade the city? Otherwise he's in for a very long seige."

Sandros nods his head. "If I know the Duke, I'm sure he has that  covered. He's a sneaky bastard, that's for certain." A dark cloud
crosses his features for a moment, and he sighs. "Perhaps a distraction of some sort? I could get them all wound up over my slave papers or something...pretend I don't have them, then throw a fit. Long enough so the rest of you could slide by, maybe."

He shrugs. "Or...maybe Avon would have some contacts in the city that could sneak us in. Eh, Avon?" Sandros gives him a smile.

The time passes.  When the moon is fairly high in the night sky, and everyone is settling in for the night, there is another interruption.

"Couldn't they just use the tunnel, Mr. Kalban?" says the voice of a young boy.  The boy --a human of perhaps 11 or 12-- walks out of the forest with loud, careless crunching of leaves and twigs as he walks.  He is dressed in carefully tailored butter-colored leathers and soft boots of dark brown.  He wears a white cloth over his eyes, as a blind man would, but he manages to avoid every thing in his path, picking his way over rocks in the ground and stepping over Andrew's outstretched legs.  He crouches in a comfortable squat near Kalban's side, saying,  "I think  -- if it's important -- that nobody would mind them using the old tunnel."

He is healthily built, even a bit on the portly side.  Solid would be a more charitable description.  His blondish hair is cut short and touselled.

Kalban looks up as the boy crosses the clearing slowly.  "I was wondering if you'd be joining us, Jimmy."  He turns to the group.  "Everybody.. this is Jimmy.  Jimmy.. this is everybody."

Jimmy smiles at the adventurers gathered around the small campfire.  "Hello," he smiles at each, seeming to be able to see through the cloth over his eyes... or perhaps in spite of it.

Kalban goes on, "Jimmy's just come from Squarento. ...  er.. recently that is.  Don't be put off by the covering on his eyes.  He has a ... um... special gift that makes it more convenient for him to cover his eyes.  He can see, but he doesn't need his eyes... they just confuse things for him.  Sometimes he can see things that happened a long time ago...and sometimes the things are in the future."  He pauses, taking a long drink from his wineskin.  "I'd be curious if I were you, so I'll explain that it's a very hard thing for him to do -- and expensive.  He has to eat the ground up dust of a fairly large pearl, and it usually makes him sick for a couple of days and in that fever, he has a vision ... so it's not something he does often."

Veneron had heard this legend back in the town where he grew up.  There was supposed to be a blind child that could see the future by eating gems.  He had dismissed it as yet another old wives' tale.  That makes *several* old wives' tales he seen or heard real world proof of in the last couple of days.

Jimmy turns to face the fire.  "Mr. Kalban," says the boy in his high pitched child's voice, "I did an augury before I left Squarento, but what I saw I do not understand.  Princess Talis said I must say it to you, and those who accompany you.  That's why I came, and why I could not come out until they arrived."

Kalban does not speak.  "I've known you were here for many hours, Jimmy, but not why you came.  I think you can speak now, among these folk."

The boy's face remains "looking" toward the small fire.  "The message may mean nothing.  It is only for the son of your old companion, Mr. Kalban.  The son of Autumnleaf the Witch Slayer is among you," he gestures to those around the campfire, "and he must hear the vision."  His voice changes, becomes more of a whisper, the words hard to hear.  "You must keep the key.  Find the key to unlock the key.  Only the power of the key unlocked can destroy that which cannot exist and give life to those who never die."

And with those enigmatic words, he skootches back from the fire and says in his more normal voice, "I hope somebody knows what it means, because I have no idea.  But all of them -- Princess Talis and Master Featherbrain agreed with Master Rast -- he said to bring this news to you.  I saw it as writing on a scroll -- Master Rast said it was written in Dragon runes." 

Kalban looks at the boy.  "Dragon runes, eh?  Well, if anybody would know, it would be Rast.  The legend is that he taught the dragons how to read."  He laughs.  "Thank you Jimmy.  Are you hungry?"

Jimmy says yes, and Kalban hands over the remains of the bird that had been broiled.  The boy eats enthusiastically, as the group ponders a new enigma.

Tavarak stops sharpening his sword as the young man enters the makeshift camp. The bard watches him with interest, putting himself in that position, wondering what it would be like to have such a precious gift, or is it be a curse. Listening intently to the words of the cryptic message Tav breaks down the missive  into parts and ponders the meaning.

"...The son of Autumnleaf the Witch Slayer is among you..."

Tav looks about the group, "Who is the son of Autumnleaf the witch slayer?

"...You must keep the key. Find the key to unlock the key..."

Perhaps that is find something within oneself in order to find and item, or the other way around find an item to unlock something in him or herself.

"...Only the power of the key unlocked can destroy that which cannot exist..."

Hmmm that which cannot exist, a guardian of sorts that is protecting that which we have to give life to?

"...and give life to those who never die..."

Could that be in reference to a race in hibernation perhaps? are we to re-establish a long dead race? Is it talking about vampires or do we have to resurrect some long dead hero, who hasn't died because his or her memory is still alive and strong?"

The Bard's mind swims with possibilities and of the epic tales which he has heard and recited countless times. Yet again he wonders what is in store for the companions. Standing Tav heads into the woods not to far from the camp, and starts to go through the endless series of practice exercises with his sword and shield.

As the boy begins to speak, Avon’s breathing becomes heavy, his heart throbbing in his throat. For a moment his vision becomes blurred and he feels  as if he is going to faint. His eyes stare at the boy’s face, become focused on the blind fold. His mouth remains open and whatever it was he was chewing on is visible to every one.

As the boy continues Avon comes back to his senses. His mouth chews again and his eyes go round the group to see if any one is looking at him. He waits for Tavarak to finish his analysis of the message, then he shrugs and blurts “What a load of rubbish this is.” But since he tries to speak with a mouth full not only does his words sound funny he also spits out pieces of food.

“Bah! What nonsense. What kind of message is this?” he blurts. “A key for a key? It doesn’t make any sense,” he continues. He shrugs again. “Well, it’s been a long day. I need some sleep, you guys figure out what this message means.” As he stands up to prepare to go to sleep he gives the boy a long stare.

Sandros watches as the thief wanders away, and shakes his head. With a low tone of voice, he says, "Bets on whether HE'S the son we're talking about?" He grins. "Name like Autumnleaf, gotta be elven."

Looking at Tav, he puts in a few ideas as well. "I think you might be right on the undead interpretation. As for the rest, I'd bet there's no way in heck we'll know what any of it means, until it's too late to do much about it." He shrugs. "Seems that's how most of this stuff works."

Peering slyly at Bracht, he adds, "Guess it's kinda ironic, eh? We all just gave ya crap over your fortune teller, and now we're all acting so serious about THIS soothsayer." He chuckles. "I meant no insult, sir. You'll find that there's little I won't joke about, and sometimes it gets taken for more then I intended. As for our little future telling, here...I'm pretty open to listening to a blind fellow who can see after swallowing a gemstone or two."

Bracht's horse whinneys, and seems to say, "Yeah...I've seen a lot of weird things in my day...but nothing like that!"

Daggda, who had been sullenly feeding the campfire after being lambasted by Prince Geodon, mutters, "Who cares, Sandros Bloodworth?  Let us deliver the Prince to Squarento, as I have promised King Basalt, and the rest of you can collect your reward.  Do we really care if these noble idiots stand by why some butchering Duke slaughters them?" Her tone is bitter. "I think the most important thing after we return Prince Granitehead here is finding Sssathius," she smiles faintly at Sandros. "I promised you, did I not?"

Startled that someone was so close to the camp and he was caught unaware makes Andrew a little suspicious of the boy at first, but upon seeing Kalban's trust in him his body relaxes and he listens carefully to the words.

Nodding to Sandros' comment about the complexities and riddles often involved in fortune telling Andrew thinks back and tries to remember anything in his past that could link him to someone named Autumnleaf. Wondering if Kalban ever knew his parents Andrew looks to him at the mention of it. Relieved to hear that the Arch druid is alright Andrew takes comfort from that and decides that most of the others on the wanted poster are good at taking care of themselves and that brings the elven druid a bit more peace about the whole situation.

Speaking to Jimmy Andrew asks, "If you see him before I Jimmy could you give the Arch druid my best wishes and let him know I'm doing everything I can to get that lunatic under control?"   After that Andrew sits back and lets his mind drift over the words of the puzzle trying to make some sense of it all.

[OOC from DM: Note: The "son of Autumnleaf" is not a mystery, really. It is in the PC backgrounds that are posted on the website...but to save you all the trouble of looking it up,   Avon = (bastard) son of Autumnleaf the elven warrior.]

The three women of the group are uncharacteristically quiet.  Quill, Myridian and Daggda all listen without comment as Jimmy's vision is discussed. 

Veneron is studying the notes Myr had loaned him about searching for a familiar. 

"The brass brazier must burn for many hours [2d12 hours] until the familiar comes.  *IF* he comes." 
~Where am I going to get a brass brazier and that much time to spend in one place, he wonders.~

And Ven is put off by the long, long list of herbs and magical components that must be burned in the brazier.  He asks Myr about that... "Well," she replies, "I stole the herbs and stuff from the harridan that kept me in servitude... over a number of years.  I bet they'd cost a LOT if you had to buy them all.  Maybe  500 gp -- or even more !  I could never have afforded that."  His idea of a fancy party with his share of the reward money flitters out of his mind.  He thought about the 2 magic pebbles he'd found... hard to imagine selling something so purely magical, but ...

After several quiet moments, pondering the fate that the boy had seen for someone in the group, Sandros picks up his sword and dagger and approaches Tavarak.  "Hey, old friend, I'm going to try and learn 2-handed fighting.  Do you know anything about it?"

Tav shakes his head slowly, "Sorry.  No.  I have enough to learn in dealing with a sword and shield."

But the dwarven Prince, Geodon, hears Sandros' query and uncharacteristically volunteers.  "It so happens, friend jester, that I have some little knowledge of that skill.... If you want to learn, I could give you a lesson or two."

"Practice ONLY, my Lord Prince," cautions Kalban, not trusting Geodon's motives.

But Geodon smiles at the elven woodsman-prince.  "But of course.  I do feel some level of gratitude for being rescued... and I could use the exercise myself."

So saying, Geodon borrows a sword from Tav and a dagger from Kalban.  After a brief discussion about technique and attention to methods of using both weapons, he and Sandros begin a light sparring.  They parry in slow motion, and occasionally the dwarven Prince punctuates his comments by clubbing Sandros with the flat of his sword.  "No, you see how you've left yourself open here..." WHAP .... "And after this move, you're off balance if I do this..." WHAP ... "You could get your leg sliced off if you leave that opening..." WHAP .... "Oh that's MUCH better, but if you leave your guard down here..." WHAP .... and so on.

An exhausting hour later, Sandros has learned much ... about the 2-handed fighting technique AND about the dwarf's teaching style.  Bruised and stiff, he thanks the dwarf for a well-earned lesson, and rolls up into his bedroll.  His final thoughts were on the pheasant stew they'd had for dinner ... Andrew had used WAY WAY too much garlic.  Then Sandros sat bolt upright as he realized with dread that the Vampire-disease must have changed him... he used to like the spice.

After her evening prayers, Daggda is not the usual calm dwarf that the group has come to expect after her sessions with Moradin.  She is vaguely uneasy... her communication with her God was ~not normal~ but it's hard for her to define exactly what happened that is out of the ordinary.  It was not a rebuke from Him ... she'd had some of those in the past and she knew what THAT was like.  No... it was more like He was occupied elsewhere.

Andrew's evening prayers were similarly ~not normal~. Daggda, who had finished first,  notices Andrew's uncertainty, and approaches the Druid.  They speak quietly, but neither has any special insight.

Watches were taken during the night, but the only thing of note was that Kalban did not sleep.  At various times during the long, dark night, he would go off into the woods alone, and come back, perhaps 30 minutes later, with one of the party's animals.  The horses he simply tethered to the same tree were Mahvros was tied.  He brought Edge, the half-wolf, during Quill's watch, and the dog was nearly beside himself with excitement at being together with his mistress again.  It had, of course, been little more than 2 full days since they had parted, but Edge had obviously come to the conclusion that he would be alone forever.  The dog nearly bowled the Ranger over with his jumps.   Quill was equally happy to see her companion, and after her watch, she sat quietly looking out at the forest and stars instead of returning to sleep for the last few pre-dawn hours.

Shortly before dawn, Tavarak, who was on watch, heard a horseman and rose to evaluate the situation.  Quill and Edge were at his side, but they were relieved to see the snow-white cloak of a member of the Arm of Illuvitar.  It was the elven Lord, Amaryss, they had met back in Squarento outside the inn ... a seemingly long time ago, tho it was only a little over a week.

He had a few words with Kalban, but then sought out Quill.  Drawing her to the side, he asked, "Are you the Ranger, Quill O'Dann?"  She admitted to it.  "Well then, I have this message from your father."  And he handed her a sealed scroll.  Breaking the seal quickly, Quill read  it was dated just 3 days after her departure from home, long weeks ago:

"Dearest Quillian,

"I send this message to you via the Dragon's Maw Adventurer's Guild, in hopes that it will find you somehow.

"Unbelievably -- after all this time -- I have word that your mother may be alive.... or at least that she may have been brought back to life.  And that she is living on the Isle of View.

"I must go there to see for myself ... I must know.

                     "Your loving father"

The Ranger's eyes filled with tears, and her mind raced with a thousand questions.  She knew now, that she must go and help her father to find out the truth of her mother's death -- or life.  War...kingdoms...Princes... nothing mattered to her any more.   She grasped the Elven Lord's arm with a powerful grip.  "I must get to the Isle of View ... immediately.  You come from there...  I need your help.  I will do anything.  Please help me."

But the Captain of Illuvitar's army simply smiled.  "I have come to this group to seek information about the death of my half-sister, the bard Auriella.  My cousin" (he places a strange emphais on that word) "Kalban here has told me that you may have some knowledge of it.  I go now to the Isle myself.  I would gladly take you there if you will explain her fate to our family."

Quill agrees in an instant.  Her hand rests on the pommel of Dragon's Claw, the mighty sword, and she thinks of the magical bracers that made use of the elven bow so natural.  Those, at least, she could give over to those who would continue to fight for the cause she was giving up.  As the others of the group wake, notice the return of their gear and horses,  and begin their morning routines, she calls them together and explains her situation and her decision.

"These magical things belonged to the Bard Auriella, but Kalban said once that the elven way was that they would belong to those who would take over for her.  I cannot decide who is to wield them next... that is for the rest of you to decide.  The sword has a life of its own, almost... but it requires someone skilled in the use of a long sword.  The bracers will allow ANYone to wield the elven bow with skill... so anyone could use them."

Myridian had been speaking with Kalban for a long while.  After Quill's dramatic statement, she too speaks to the group.  "Kalban has seen something inside me that has brought me to a painful decision. -- or perhaps to the first step on a road to gettin healthy again.  He says that there is a seer who can help those with a troubled mind.  And I've decided to go to him.   So I'll be going to the Isle too."  She smiles thru tear streaked eyes at Quill.  "He says it's a magical place... and one of peace."  She reaches into her pocket and fished out the little lizard.  "We need that, dont we Flybreath.  A little peace, eh?  And then maybe those visions of the old woman will stop haunting me."  She looks at the others... "I guess I should leave you all the Raven Suit, huh?  I gotta admit, I'll miss Sandros and Ven seeing right thru it, and drooling over me, but... I REALLY have to do this."

The voluptuous mage takes a step forward, holding the suddenly tiny, gossamer thin Raven Suit.  "I .. I dont know what to do with it..."  She casts her eyes around... then just drops it and runs over to Kalban.  She slumps into a heap on the ground, sobbing into her hands.  Her voice is a gasping whisper between sobs, "He can really make the d..d...dreams go away??"

The suddenness of the morning's news leaves the remaining adventurers stunned.  Silently they look at each other, then at the the two comrades who will be leaving... one happily chattering the the elven Lord, the other near breakdown at Kalban's feet. 

Avon, sure that this is the Elven Lord that Kalban spoke of, considers approaching him about a 'ransom' for the harp.  But he hesitates.  For all his sarcastic words about the boy's vision, it shook him.  Now he didn't know if HE was some sort of key... or if it was someTHING he had.  And the only THING he had of any specialness was the harp.

Tavarak slowly turns to  Sandros, Veneron and  Avon.  "So much has happened since we left Squarento.  And... I would give my right arm to see those two women happy.   I pray they will be.... now."  He widens his comments to include Daggda, Andrew and Bracht.  "And there is still much for us to do here." 

He takes a deep breath then exhales.  "I hope I'm not seen to be greedy, but I honestly think that I would be able to make the best use of that sword.  And if someone who does not have a bow skill would take the bracers and elven bow, then we'd have an overall gain in abilities.  As for the Raven Suit... I dont know.  Someone with agility, or who won't be bothered with taking armor on and off or someone who doesnt rely on weapons... I just dont know.  And we have that OTHER magic item we just got.. The bracelet that Andrew took from the dead priestess.  It's magic, we know that... but does anybody know what it might do?"

[Daggda] "I agree you should take the Dragon's Claw, and perhaps Andrew could take the bracers and bow. But the bracelet- well, Andrew should throw that foul thing in the fire were it not proof of the Prince's captor."

[Tavarak] "Perhaps.. but just because it was used by an evil person does not meet it is evil. After all, " he thumps the Dwarven Warrior on the shoulder as he laughs, "just because something was once used by a dwarf does not mean it is forever beneath the dignity of a mighty elven bard."

He looks around at the others.  "By the Gods, we have so much to do!  We have to get Sandros' new combat teacher," he grins at the still aching ventroliquist, "back to Squarento .. we HAVE to get Sandros cured... and it sure would be nice if we could do SOMEthing about that so-called Supreme Benignity Duke person... Not to mention the boy's vision... Who's the son of Autumleaf anyhow?  At least we know it's not YOU."  He gestures at Daggda with his cup and takes a bite of his breakfast.  "Hey...What do you think of this tunnel idea for getting into Squarento?"

Some moments later, Kalban approaches the group.  "I will be going with Quill, Myridian and Lord Amaryss to the Isle.  And after I see my family safe,  I will be ~committed~ to the same cause that Jimmy has seen for you, but my place is with the Conclave of Wizards of the North ... I pray that we may meet again someday.  That will leave the 7 of you as the only protectors I can trust in this part of the world, who are not committed to other causes.  I would say more if I could... but I do not see the future.  I have lived in fear of this day... when the Dark Gods seem to be rising again.  And I fear that those who cannot exist - are those who the Gods banished centuries ago ... about those who never die, I am less sure.... perhaps it refers to the strange withdrawl of the Golden Dragons from this fight.  They fought at our side last time, but -- in their words -- are unable to help now."  He clasps Andrew's shoulder strongly, "Friend.  Brother of the woods.  Be well and be true to the Goddess."

"Tavarak, you asked for training from me in the arts of magic, but I find that I cannot meet my obligation, even tho your comrade will come to the Isle as I asked.  But give this ring to Princess Talis, my one-time student, and she will redeem my promise."  He gives the bard an ornate gold ring, set with a pearl that seems to change colors in the light.  Seeing a ring changing hands, Avon slides over to have a look.  Not even counting the special value of the pearl that changes colors, his guess is that the ring is worth at least 500-1000 gp.

True to her dwarven nature, Daggda tries to peer from around the half-elf to get a look at the workmanship of the ring. She whistles softly. "The goldwork alone..." she murmurs. Then remembering herself, her head snaps up and addresses the noble elven lord sharply.

"Hold on there, Lord Kalban. First you whisk in here with Jimmy the Jargh Boy and his key riddles," she begins, as the others wonder what on earth "jargh" is dwarven for. "And then you leave, taking Myridian and Quill with you. How about a little help before you leave, and less elven zander-talk. What of the tunnel that Jimmy speaks of? As much as I might like to feed his highness to a flemkag, we have to get Prince Geodon back into Squarento..." Daggda crosses her arms and gives Kalban a cross eye.

Kalban turns with a smile to the Acolyte. "I love it when you dwarves get fusty. Reminds me of the time I saw 3 dwarves arguing about which of them got fleas in his beard first..... But to your question: I know only that the tunnel exists. I have never had need to use it, and know nothing about it, really."

[Jimmy]
"The tunnel is a smelly sewer that runs under the city. You can get to it where it flows out near the bay. And then you wade thru the water for a long time. You'd never know where was the right place to get out, tho. Not without me. And you dont want to go in when it's been raining. You might not make it. You're even shorter than I am, I'll bet."