Trent's Adventure

Burke made his way over to Trent. "Is that knight coming back for you? He said three days... will he search when we're not there?" He spoke quietly, watching the bandits who were watching him.

Trent sighed and watched Isianu enter the tent. "Tell me something Burke, what do you have to do with all of this? Do you know these people?"

Burke looked down. Hearing the lupine's question, he didn't move. He sighed as well. "I don't know these bandits, but I know their type. And I do know Niehl." He bent and picked up a piece of dried meat. Sitting down hard, he bit into it. "So, you have a country up there, or something? A whole bunch of you... uh, people? Lupines? What will happen if there's a war?"

Trent stared at the tent awhile silently. At last Trent turned back to Burke. "I don't know. I left my country because a tyrant has taken over. I'm sure my country would defend itself from any attack, and quite well too." Trent sighed softly again. "I have a feeling though that the tyrant in my country is trying to get a war going with your people. He has been doing many things to antagonize the humans lately. Murders, destruction,pillages, and other things... You must understand though that not all lupines are like that. It is Bernuka who hates humans and is trying to drag my whole country into war. But to what end?" Trent finished softly, almost to himself.

"I know why the Baron would want war with the wolves. He hates you. Always has." He ate some more of the meat. "Er, so I've heard..." He paused, awkwardly. "Uh. Who is... uh, Bernuka? The real King of the Wolves? I know people were being murdered in the north and the east, disturbing number of animal attacks. Is it... Bernuka's doing?"

Trent snorted derisively. "Bernuka is no more the real King than I am human. He is simply a powerful brute who has power." Trent paused and thought before continuing. "I don't know if it is all his doing, but I'm sure he is responsible for some of it."

"So," said Burke, looking down again. "He's not any different then the Baron, then?" The bandit leader standing near the tent entrance reacted to something within and went in. He and Isianu emerged and he held his hand up, motioning her to the side.

Two men came up to Trent and took him by the arms, leading him to Niehl's tent.

Inside, Trent was somewhat surprised at the lavish nature of the bedding and furniture. He noted Niehl's armor to his right and the General himself standing, back turned, to the left.

"Greetings, revolutionary," said the man, turning to give Trent a sidelong glance. "You do know what happens to rebels who fail, don't you? The successful ones are remembered as leaders, rulers. The failures fade away, if they are lucky. There are worse things than obscurity." He looked at Trent appraisingly. "I wonder if you have what it takes to be a success. Certainly not without allies. Perhaps we can help each other, yes? Now tell me, what are you planning? Tell me about this..." He paused. "Movement..." He smiled, a chilly expression. Missing 8-10

Trent just stood there, a slightly bemused expression on his face. Giving himself a little mental shake, Trent spoke coldly. "Let me guess, you support my 'revolution' and set me or someone else up as ruler of my land. You meanwhile are behind it all, controlling the ruler as a puppet." Trent smiled coldly at Niehl.

Listening to Trent's tirade, Niehl simply sat and waited. "You really couldn't be more wrong. I don't want power or control of this forsaken continent. I would just as soon see it controlled by the werewolves than by this pathetic monarchy and its rabble. I only want information..."

"Tell me something then. Can you hear their screams, general? Did you see their bodies, pitifully thrown about and burned? Do you have nightmares every night about the same thing, you helpless to stop it. Just sitting and watching their deaths unfold." Clenching his fists tightly Trent regained his composure. "[You are a dog. You only seek to gain status and power from my peoples troubles. In any case you coudn't be more wrong. I don't want to be a revolutionary. I don't want a revolution. I only want one life to take.]" Trent smiled sadly and said nothing more.

As Trent began speaking in his native tongue, Niehl pursed his lips. "Perhaps you have said all you wish to say. It doesn't matter to me; I only present you with an opportunity to serve both of our interests. You will serve mine whether you want to or not." He put his hands together and looked at Trent once more. "If there's nothing more, I'll call Skale." He turned away, putting his hands behind his back.

"Wait one second." Trent paused reflecting on Niehl's response. "You say you want information... what kind of information do you want? You say you don't want any control over the area and couldn't care less about it, yet you want information. What do you wish to know? I'm not saying I'll tell you everthing I know, and quite likely I might not know anything of interest to you. But I will consider."

Without turning around, Niehl answered. "You don't have the information I want. The only one who has it is your companion's ill-fated sire. He will never part with it willingly." Niehl looked at Trent once more. "He must believe he can use it as a weapon. I do not doubt that it could be twisted to those ends. He will never give it up, except to further his own legacy. The chance for that kind of power would also corrupt your friend. I simply seek someone who will return the information to its rightful owners and let his weapon be buried. You are already in this line of work... in fact, it would seem you are the last of the opposition." He paused again, expressionless. "You do not have to decide right away. I think that perhaps you understand what I am saying to you. I only seek this lost knowledge. I care little for this... land, but I would also leave a stable government behind. Petty dictators believe they can make a legacy for themselves by causing death and destruction in the name of conquest. I seek no puppet, just a ruler whose dagger won't find its way into my back."

"Hmm..." Trent considered his options. Eventually his thoughts led him back to one point in the conversation. "A weapon?" Trent thought back to how his city was destroyed and couldn't think of any 'weapon' used against it besides the mages. "I don't know if I will help you or not, but I will tell you this much. Recently a lupine whom you seem to know of has taken over my country. I escaped death a while ago when my city was destroyed by his troops. I don't know of any weapon he has, but I know he is very powerful magically." Trent stared up to look Niehl straight in the eye. "It is my duty to kill him. I will do anything to kill him."

Niehl returned Trent's gaze steadily. "Yes, Falkonis, that was a strange... maneuver. I do not know what form this weapon will take; I can't imagine how Bernuka plans to use the knowledge. I do believe that he has found it. It is my primary duty to wrest it from him. Whether I can retrieve it or not, the warlock must be destroyed. He is far too dangerous to be left alive." The General paced. "The question remains: How do we proceed?"

Trent shrugged. "I can't help you there.I have no idea how to get to him." Wait a minute... I do know! Trent looked at the general appraisingly again. I can't tell him though. There has to be another way.

"No plans? No ideas? I'm disappointed. No sense in being impatient, however. I had not really counted on planning a rebellion, but it seems easy enough. Incite the populace to revolt, send in a few choice distractions, and then... the assassination. I can arrange everything we need." He turned away from Trent again, muttering something under his breath. With a flourish, he turned and regarded the werewolf. As a feeling of exhaustion came over the lupine, Niehl adopted a concerned expression. "Are you all right? You look... dead on your feet..." Trent collapsed to the ground. Niehl chuckled to himself. "Skale, get your men in here. I have a corpse which I need removed."

Trent awoke, a feeling of peace and wholeness settling over him. He almost remembered his dream, but reality encroached. It was morning and already bright. A man appeared over him, blocking the sunlight. The General.

"Time is wasting, werewolf. I do apologize for the slight spell; I needed to convince your companions that you were dead. Bernuka sees what his daughter sees. What she knows, he knows. With you dead, he will no longer fear your attack." He paused, waiting for the wolf to recover from his deep sleep before continuing. "He has been preoccupied by the residents of Falkonis for some time. I know you are holding back. What is it that frightened him so? Will you tell me now, or are you unconvinced?" Trent could see around him that the bandits were already gone, leaving only soldiers. The wagon and Isianu were also missing.

Gathering his surroundings Trent blinked. "Faked my death? It makes sense. But where are Isianu and the human going?" Trent blinked again. "As to your question, I can only make a guess. The city of Falkonis is, was, a city of the Holy Dragon, Falkonis. Defending the city were special knights, called Draconians who served the Dragon. I am the last of my order. Normally I would never tell anyone this, but since I am the last and these are special cercumstances..." Trent shrugged. "I don't have much choice."

The General motioned to his men. "Your friends are going to the western coast. If we needed, we could easily transfer them from there. It is of no consequence to us." Niehl considered. "Dragons... it has been thousands of years since dragons meddled in the affairs of men, if you even believe what the ancients wrote. I... would be skeptical, but... it is better to be prepared. Tell me about this dragon. Is it real? Is that what Bernuka fears, or was it something within your order?" The soldiers prepared their mounts for travel.

Trent raised his eyebrows at the question. "That's kind of moot, asking me if Falkonis is real. I believe in him, and whether he is a physical being or mystical matters not to me." Trent paused for a second. "As to why Bernuka was scared of us, if he ever was, I have no idea. Falkonis was one of the last remaining cities not in his grasp. I don't know why however."

Niehl looked Trent up and down. "I think you might be able to wear my armor. You'll need to let the straps out. It is the best this region has to offer, but I'll be glad to be rid of it. It's still in the tent."

A little taken aback by the offer Trent sounded surprised. "Your armor? Why would you give me your armor?"

Two horses were brought to Niehl. "A puzzle. Yes, take the armor. I have a vested interest in your life. I will be able to do what I must just as well, or better, without it. Be quick."

Trent gave Niehl another searching glance then shrugged. "Very well." Trent walked over and donned the armor and the gauntlets, casting aside his cloak. At first Trent had some trouble getting the armor on, but after loosening the straps quite a bit he was able to get it on. Trent did not put the helm on immediately, however he held it and waited for what happened next.

"Now, we must hurry," said Niehl. "The longer we wait, the more chance we have of being sighted. There are soldiers already in position to cause... disturbances, when we need them. Do you have any way of contacting your... associates or like-minded individuals? This will be easier if we have more than just a few isolated distractions." The general mounted while indicating Trent should do likewise.

Trent quickly mounted the horse indicated. Trent thought for a moment. "Well, yes. I have a way of locating people I know or have seen. Unfortunately I am the only person I know who has survived the destruction of my city. Perhaps some others have survived as well but I can't locate them. All the people I know have died." Trent paused to think again. "I know there are dissidents in Goranther. I just don't know who they are." Trent finished ruefully.

The now mounted group set out. "I'm sure you'll think of something. Any allies we can find will increase our odds of success." Niehl and Trent were riding side-by-side. "I don't believe I caught your name, soldier. I am Commander Yras Niehl."

"My name is Trent Aekdin." Trent fell silent for awhile, getting used to riding. It was his first time riding one, and Trent thoroughly enjoyed it. After some time Trent spoke again. "Exactly where are we headed? Obviously we are going to Goranther, but is there a certain city or place we are going to?"

Niehl smiled in the mirthless way he had. "The plan is very simple. We will reach outer Goranthor by this night. We will have tomorrow to make all the additional arrangements we wish and get to Bernuka's fortress. Intelligence we have gathered indicates that he will be there... with the information I seek. I also have reason to believe I can bypass or undo the majority of his safeguards. We will slip in while our distractions will prevent our detection. From there, you and I will split up. I will find what I want while you kill Bernuka. If you fail, you will provide the distraction I need and Bernuka will be dealt with in the immediate future. That would be costly for your people. If you succeed, you will be in the position to do whatever you wish. It will probably be up to your local politics. But you will also need to destroy whatever findings Bernuka has made. The danger is too great. Do you understand?"

"I see. So regardless of whether I actually kill Bernuka as long as I try it will help you." Trent smirked. "That's fine with me. I won't fail though. What do you mean about these 'findings'? I can't destroy them if I don't know what they are. Do you mean findings he made with your 'information'?"

"I prefer my terminology, but basically your intervention may help transform a hostile nation into a friendly one. In the long run, that would be beneficial for everyone concerned. But I am prepared for any case." He rode on for a few moments. "What Bernuka has uncovered should be obvious. It is technology that is very out of place on this continent. Any technology he has uncovered must be destroyed. The storage of information is what I am most concerned about."

"Fine. Then basically we are helping eachother." Trent was starting to get a little nervous. True, killing Bernuka was his goal, his purpose, but Bernuka was not going to be easy to kill at all. Trent wondered if he even had the skills to do it. That's the wrong way to think Trent. Just do it. If I succeed then all is good. If I fail than at least I have tried. In either case Bernuka will be killed, or so Yras says.

Niehl twirled Trent's spear and extended the butt end to the werewolf. "If you know how to use this, you need not worry. He is mortal, just like us." He laughed at Trent's consternation, but even his laughter was distant. "You were questioning yourself just now. Get it over with before the time comes. Thinking will just endanger us then. Then it will be time for action. No questioning, no thinking, no feeling. Just the act, nothing else."

Trent accepted his spear. "Your right. I know I can kill him if I get close enough. It's his magic I'm worried about. I have some magic skill," Trent admitted. "...but nowhere near to the power he has." Trent looked at his long spear as he rode. "Of course, all I need is one good hit with this." Trent dispelled his fears for the time being and rode on.

Just as Niehl had said, the band reached the outskirts of Goranthor by nightfall. They set up an small camp inside the dense forest. "You do understand that there are many who support Bernuka?" asked Niehl suddenly. "You may have to stand against your own. Even should you kill him, you may have to contend with reprisal by those who serve him."

Trent started at this, for in truth, he had not even considered that some might be in league with Bernuka. "It doesn't matter." Trent finally stated. "I don't care too much what happens to me after I kill Bernuka. I'm not afraid of death; just not being able to achieve my goals." Trent frowned as he continued. "Of course I will oppose anyone who stands with Bernuka... but I do not intend to take over the leadership in any case. I know someone who will better serve in that position."

Niehl smiled again. "I thought as much. You are idealistic. It explains how easily you fell to Bernuka. It matters very little now. We will accomplish our goals and change these circumstances." The general stood, looking out into the dark forest. He closed his eyes and concentrated. "Do you feel that? Magic. Powerful magic." He opened his eyes. "Curious..."

Trent snorted somewhat humorously. "Idealistic... I suppose that's a good word to describe me." Trent regarded the General questioningly. "Magic? Of course there is magic all around Goranther. Not only with Bernuka's magic and his mages, but these forests seem to have an ethereal quality to them." Trent smiled as he recalled a previous time he had been in this forest.

----

A much younger Trent stumbled around in the woods, darting his eyes back and forth in search of his home. Blindly running through the thick vegetation Trent realized he was lost. Trent stopped by a particularly large tree to catch his breath while he struggled to keep his emotions under control. If I lose my head out here, I will certainly never find my way out. Trent started out again, trying to make headway in the gloomy forest. hours had passed and the moon had risen, when Trent realized he was back at the same tree he stopped at before. Sinking to his knees, Trent let out a moan and finally allowed his tears to run freely. A few hours later, when Trent awoke from a sleep he had not meant to take, he noticed a faint green light hovering some distance away. Barely able to make out the light through the trees, Trent rose unsteadily to his feet and began to walk toward it, curious as to what it was. Immediately the light began to move away into the forest. "Hey!" Trent cried. The light in response only moved deeper into the forest. Trent ran after it, not knowing why he was doing so but somehow knew that he should follow it. After an hour of the chase through the forest, the sun rose and the green light disappeared. Trent gave a soft sigh, however, his sadness was short lived, for in the distance the sun's rays glanced off the white walls of his city.

----

Trent smiled again at the memory. He had almost completely forgotten about that episode of his life. Seeing the trees of this dark forest had reminded him of his experience however. Trent peered into the forest for a long while, as if his gaze was irrevocably drawn toward it.

General Niehl frowned and stood silent for a long time. He almost spoke, but realized that Trent was far away and couldn't hear him. The two remained staring into the forest as Niehl's soldiers slept nearby. The general muttered to himself. "... passed... echoes..."

The morning was cold with a slight mist forming. Niehl roused Trent, speaking quietly. "I have made what contacts I could. The rest is up to us." He offered Trent a small blue bottle. "You should drink this. It will rejuvenate you. We have a few hours until we reach the palace. I want us all to be at full strength."

Trent accepted the bottle and drank it without a second thought. He briefly wondered as to what the contents of the bottle were, but these thoughts passed quickly. Gearing himself for the trials for the day, Trent checked and rechecked his armor and spear to make sure it was in good repair. Afterwards, he looked about the group to see exactly how many soldiers there were.

Trent felt clear headed and rested, better than he had felt in a long time. He watched the other soldiers make ready to travel. There were six humans, counting Niehl. They were stoic, showing no emotion and talking little. The weight of their silence served to bring down his spirits some, but he couldn't deny that he felt better with a clear plan of action before him.

They traveled quickly, taking evasive action when Niehl indicated that trouble was nearby. He was wearing his dark visor again. It almost escaped Trent's notice, as focused as he was on the task at hand. In what seemed like an eyeblink, they had arrived at the majestic gardens of Bernuka's hidden palace. The soldiers spread out.

Hidden in the shadows, Niehl whispered to Trent. "We are early. Let us discuss our plans once more while we wait. We will use the side entrance before us. There is no easy, unguarded route. We will have to contend with whatever guards are waiting. They will need to be silenced quickly. Bernuka should dispatch a good number to deal with our disturbances. His attentions will be elsewhere, allowing me to undo his magical traps without being detected. From there, I will search. You will probably be on your own, although I will assist if I can. His chambers are on the upper floors. Presumably we'll find him there. Is there anything else?"

Not wanting to talk, Trent shook his head to indicate there was nothing else. Now that he was finally upon the moment of action all fear was swept away. Trent only felt a growing impatience to get it over with. How should I go about this? He will probably be on the upper floors, but how should I find him? The palace is big, and moreover there are probably many guards around. Trent briefly considered using his magic to find Bernuka, but decided against it. On the one hand, Bernuka is so magically endowed that if I did use magic to locate him, he would probably notice it, and it would tip him off to the coming attack. Also, I have never actually met the lupine, so it would be near impossible anyway. Sighing resignedly, Trent figured he would just have to find Bernuka the old fashioned way.

What seemed like an eternity passed. A shadow passed over them as a guard walked right past their hiding place. Niehl motioned for Trent to move toward the palace. Trent followed the general's gesture and found himself looking at a door with a lone guard standing at attention to its side. A long moment passed and Trent wondered if the first move was to be his.

The area between Trent and the guard was without obstacle. There is a stone bench near where the guard was standing, to the left of the path. The trees of the garden seem to end twenty feet from the entrance, giving the guard a fair range of vision all around him. On either side of the path to the door there are flowers and shrubs, but nothing large or substantial.

Trent studied the guard for a minute. After studying the guard Trent made note of his surroundings. Not knowing if he should go ahead and take the guard Trent glanced back at the General questioningly.

The general was not behind him. The man was nowhere to be seen. Trent thought he could pick up the light sounds of footfalls nearby, but the garden seemed to mute them and distort their location.

Seeing he was alone Trent shrugged indifferently. Turning to the guard he formulated his plan. At first Trent thought of using a diversion, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He had no means of supplying it. Trent glanced up at the trees around him. Thinking rapidly Trent thought he had something. It has been a while since I have done this... Trent closed his and seemed to draw into himself. Then he jumped, focusing on the guard the entire time.

The world around him blurred and faded away. For a moment, there was only the spear and its target. The guard had time only to open his eyes wide, and then Trent stood over him, stunned by the speed and power of his own attack. He didn't move until Niehl was standing next to him.

"If you are trying to impress me," said the general in a low voice, "you have succeeded." He grabbed the guard. "He might have cried out. You were lucky. Now we have until the change of the guard." Dragging Trent's opponent to the side, Niehl shoved the body into the brush near the bench. He stepped back and looked over his handiwork. Then he ran through the doors.

Trent shrugged, recovering from the attack. "I thought you wanted me to take the guard. Sorry if I took a chance."

Inside, Niehl immediately made his way down a hallway to the left. He checked several doorways. Down the hall was a staircase. He went toward it and waited for Trent. Pursing his lips, he whispered, "The layout is... not what I expected. We must separate. Climb as high as you can. Past the royal chambers, somewhere, is an Iron Door. It will be guarded. Your quarry is beyond that door."

Trent ran in after Niehl, pausing to check the doors as they went down the hallway. Coming to the stairway Trent listened to Niehl's instructions. "Right. Here's to luck." Trent gave the general a somewhat ironic salute before proceeding up the stairs. Peering out into the next floor, Trent took a look around for guards.

Trent made his way up the stairs to the second floor landing. There were stairs leading up from the landing to the third floor. In the hallway ahead of him, there were double doors, open, leading into a great room filled with books. There were other doors further down the hallway, but Trent could not see what was past them. There were no guards in sight.

Trent was interested in the library, but remembered that Niehl had told him to go up as high as he could. So with a final glance on that floor Trent went up the next flight of stairs to the third floor, whereupon he again cautiously peered out from the stairway.

The stairs ended at the third floor. There was a long hallway with three doors on either side, turning and going out of sight after the last door. Hearing voices from around the turn, Trent reached out for the handle of the first door. It was unlocked and he went in, determining that the room was an empty bedchamber. The sound of chatting guards grew louder as he waited, then faded down the stairs. Determining that the coast was clear, Trent exited his hiding place after a cursory glance over the room.

Around the corner waited another set of doors and the large iron doors Niehl had spoken of, seemingly unguarded...

Trent regarded the iron doors gravely. There was no one guarding it, yet Trent thought that there had to be something to stand between himself and the room in front of him besides a door. Most likely there is some sort of magic on the door. How should I get by it though? Undecided Trent pressed his furry ear against the other door to try to tell if anyone was inside.

Trent's head was ringing as he listened at the door, all his nerves alight with the knowledge that trouble was waiting for him. The click of a lock behind him instantly alerted him to the emergence of an extremely tall, armored werewolf from one of the doors.

"I knew I smelled a rat," said the werewolf, swinging a heavy broadsword in preparation for combat.

Even though Trent had expected something like this would happen he was nevertheless somewhat startled. Quickly shaking it off Trent attemted to dodge the large guards first attack and counterattack with a thrust from his spear.

Trent threw himself back as the large lupine charged, but the blade clashed across armor and tore his shoulder.

He countered the attack with his spear, drawing blood from a minor nick in his foe's shoulder.

The guard smirked and twirled his blade arrogantly, feeling superior.

Trent growled menacingly at the guard, baring his fangs. Trent got into a fighting position, spear held in both paws and diagonally out in fron of him, angled toward his opponent.

The massive werewolf held his blade before him, gathering energy as blue sparks flew around him. With terrible precision, he threw himself upon Trent, the blade striking true.

Trent reeled, struggling to whip his spear up in a counter strike. With a little luck, he regained his footing enough to jab past his opponent's shield. The point pierced the werewolf's side, drawing blood once more.

Trent's foe countered, driving the blade deep into his side. The pain was unbearable and Trent felt himself becoming light-headed as his blood gushed.

His momentum completely stopped, Trent's weak attack sliced a small gash across the werewolf's temple.

Trent knew he could not continue the fight in his condition. One look at his side confirmed that. There's no way I can win with my spear now. For every attack of mine he launches a terrible counterattack. Trent feverishly racked his brains for some solution. Trent refused to surrender, besides, he wasn't sure it would be accepted by this monster of a werewolf anyway. Niehl had told him that simply an attempt on Bernuka's life would be enough, Trent chose at that moment to believe him. "Well, it seems you have me beat, however I will win whether I win in the end." Smiling despite the pain, Trent tried the door where he had his ear earlier.

Desperate for escape, Trent whirled and grabbed the handle of the Iron Door. He pulled with all his might and the door barely budged. Another pull and it suddenly gave more, giving him the exit he needed. He wedged himself into it and began wriggling through.

The great guard growled in frustration, thrusting his blade into his departing prey. Already most of the way through the door, Trent was a difficult target and the sword harmlessly richocheted off of iron. The wolf's momentum did serve to propel him into the door following his sword, slamming it hard on Trent's back and knocking him to the floor. Without a second of hesitation, Trent crouched and leapt back at the door. He had to lock it, somehow. Dazed by pain, he did the only thing he could: he thrust his spear between the handles, locking them in the closed position.

The handles rattled and the doors shook with the effort of the frustrated guard. He was apparently throwing his weight against the doors. Trent suspected they would hold, since there was no track for them to open on inside the room. The spear gave him more reason to worry, as it was only precariously wedged in place.

He turned, realizing with the pain of his injuries how close he was to death. He needed to see to his wounds, at the very least. Hoping for ideas, he surveyed the room. It had some book shelves with old, musty looking books, but what really caught his attention were the myriad tables with all sorts of glass tubing and machinery on them. On one table were scrolls and papers strewn haphazardly. The room appeared to be some sort of laboratory. His eyes settled in the corner of the room where a spiral staircase going up awaited him.

Trent quickly tried to wedge his spear into a better position to hold the doors closed. Hoping it would do a good enough job, Trent staggered over to the staircase and sank to the floor. Noticing how bad his wounds are, Trent mentally focused his thoughts onto his wounds, almost willing them to heal.

The swirl of the minor curing magic closed up some of Trent's wounds. His pain eased, he again found himself thinking of his situation. The door rattled with impact once more, then went silent. It might not be long before he had company.

The terrible wound in his side was reduced to a deep gash. Recalling how the heavy armor had deflected the attack, he realized that without it he might have been torn in two. He hurried up the spiraling stair, feeling close to his goal.

He entered a dark, cramped corridor. The air was hot and humid, and with the unusually low ceiling, Trent had a feeling of oppressive closeness. It was as if this place could sense his presence... and it was hostile. He slowly walked forward, coming to a door on his left. Ahead, he could just make out a large door on the right and another to the left further down.

Trent felt somewhat better after healing himself. Wiping the sweat from his face, he looked around, noticing the three doors. Shrugging inwardly he went to the first door on the left, and opened it.

The darkened room was cold and still, causing Trent to shiver in spite of himself. There were tables situated around the room, one having a box under it, and one box sitting in the corner, near a staff propped against the wall. A fine layer of dust had settled over everything in the room, except for a swept pathway from the entryway to another door across the room. Trent stood very still, thinking in the quiet that he had heard something in the next room. He held his breath, waiting, and heard it again: the sound of paper on paper, as of pages turning. He slowly moved toward the door, passing a table close enough to see the parchments on it, coated in dust... and one lone item, a wicked, curved ceremonial knife.

Trent froze for a minute as he heard the sound of pages turning. Figuring that whoever was making the noise wouldnt jump out and attack him just yet, Trent padded as softly as he could through the dusty room. Trent stopped and looked closer at a knife he saw on a table. Since his spear was wedged between the doors, he would need a new weapon, before he could obtain another spear. Trent reached out and grabbed the knife.

Armed once again, Trent looked over the papers amassed on the table from which he pulled the dagger. The topmost page was a collection of detailed drawings of werewolf skulls from various angles. The others appeared to be other notes on various races biology and anatomy.

Trent frowned as he saw what was on the parchments. Not needing the information, Trent proceeded as quietly as he could to the door on the other side of the room. Thinking that perhaps it was Bernuka behind the door, Trent cracked the door as quietly as he could and tried to see through the crack.

Peering in the door, Trent saw a small, windowless library. There were books lining both the left and right sides of the room. At a solitary desk, back to the door, sat a werewolf in elaborate robes. He was carefully poring over something in front of him. Trent immediately felt the familiar sensation of impending danger.

Trent immediately thought that this must be Bernuka. He was about to step forward into the room when the feeling of danger came to him. The fur on the back of his neck rising, Trent turned back to the room behind him, gripping his new found knife tightly and hoping his sense was wrong...

The room remained cold and empty. Nothing stirred, except for the rustling paper that the other werewolf was so engrossed in. Trent's senses had him on full alert; everything about this place felt dangerous... The longer he stayed, the more sinister and stifling it seemed.

He felt the power and danger in the place as clearly as if it was tangible. Trent wanted with all his will to kill Bernuka, but he knew that even if he did, it wouldn't be worth his death. Trent didn't even know for sure that that was Bernuka in the room. Trent strode to the door that led to the hallway, opened it a little and peered out.

The hall was as Trent had left it. The sensation of being weighted was lessened slightly. There was still a chill in the air of the room, and he could only feel the heat from the hall when he was close to the door.

Trent was torn between two decisions. He didn't know if the werewolf in the other room was Bernuka, yet he didn't feel like giving up his life just yet, which seemed like a distinct possibility in that room. Of course, Trent sarcastically reminded himself, I'm not likely to get out alive in any case. Having made his decision, for better or worse, Trent went out into the cramped hall and proceeded to the next door, upon where he again cracked the door and peered through it.

The next door, the one on Trent's right, opened into a rather large room. In the dim light from the hall, he couldn't make out much in the room. It contained large shapes, which he could only believe were some sort of grand furnishings. Without seeking another light source, he couldn't tell much more. The temperature in the room did seem more normal to him.

Trent regarded the room for a moment. The room was too dark for him to see much, and he didn't see anything especially usefull to him anyway. Leaving the room, Trent proceeded to the final door in the hallway. As he did this he remembered the knight who had attacked him. Hurrying his footsteps a little, Trent realized he needed to find a way out if he couldn't get to Bernuka. When he reached the door, Trent opened the door a crack, hoping nobody was in there.

The last room was similar to the first, except that it seemed to contain no furnishings at all. There were several boxes in the room, seemingly stuffed full with clothing and other items. What really caught Trent's eye upon entering was something leaning against the back wall, near several other weapons on some sort of rack. It was a familiar spear... Gasder's Spear.

Trent slowly walked to the rack where the spear was. Disregarding the other weapons completely, Trent reverantly picked up his dead mentor's spear and gazed at it. Memories of Gasder came unbidden to Trent, and flashbacks...

...

Trent was surprised, even astonished at the display the werewolf was putting on. Trent had snuck into the training room to find Gasder going through attack and defense routines with his spear. Before than Trent hadn't known what kind of weapon he wanted to use. Some of the other warriors in training liked the sword, yet Trent could never seem to get the knack of swordplay. He had liked the look of the spear, simple yet effective, but not many lupine he knew liked to use the spear. Watching Gasder's mesmerizing dance convinced Trent however. Trent stood transfixed by the dance until Gasder had finished, whereupon he hastily removed himself from the room without Gasder seeing him. Trent had a smile on his face as he left.

...

Trent came back to the present slowly. There's something wrong... I've been having a lot of flashbacks recently... Trent pushed the matter from his mind and looked at the spear he carried in his paw. Looking at the puny dagger he had in his other paw Trent snorted contemptuiously and tucked it away. Now with both hands free Trent clutched the spear tightly to him.

"[Well, now that I have searched the area it seems I have to backtrack. But where should I go?]" Trent thought out loud. "[Whatever happened to Niehl? He said he would disable magical traps or something like that, but when I was in the other room I certainly felt something malevolant.]" Trent allowed his glance to fall on the spear he now carried and smiled. It was like Gasder was with him. Almost...

Trent decided on a plan. He quickly strode to the door and looked out, checking to see if anyone was in the hall.

After Trent made sure nobody was in the hall, Trent eased his way into the hall, whereupon he made his way to the room he had not entered yet, and went in. Trent remembered that that room had been pretty dark and was hard to see anything in it. Therefore when he entered the room, he left the door wide open to try to let light into the room, hoping to be able to see what is in it.

Trent's Adventure Continues