Author: Chaos
Note: This started out as an assigment for a creative writing class I took at a community college. It's become a little bit more since then.



�Duck, Tanya!� I shouted. My companion dropped immediately into a defensive crouch without thinking, sword up to block the descending blade of the orc in front of her. A club, swinging wildly, whistled through the air over her head and slammed into the orc. The impact took the unfortunate creature from its feet and the rest of this incarnation. Tanya spun on her knees on the smooth flagstone floor, sword whipping around in a deadly arc. The orc behind her only had time to blink twice in surprise before the woman�s ancestral blade struck it a fatal blow.

�Thanks, Syndi.� The thanks had not been necessary for a long time with the way we all meshed as a team, but it was still nice to hear. Panting, she looked around for more foes. Finding none to stand against her, she ran a gloved hand over her close-cropped, black hair. �Has Farandil found anything?�

I turned and craned my neck back to gaze up at the blond elf behind me, my barely three foot frame inadequate to the task of allowing me to see anything higher than his waist without such exertions. His green, silver flecked eyes had a distant, unfocussed quality. Delicately I placed a hand on his wrist, I could not reach his shoulder, and squeezed gently. He responded with a slight shake of his head. �Not yet,� I replied.

This was my job in a fight. I was too small and not nearly skilled enough in the use of weapons to assist Tanya. She did not need much help anyway, so I guarded our mage while he cast his spells. Farandil was vulnerable at those times. I made sure that nothing got close enough to attack or distract him.

Putting away my dagger and slipping my little mace through its loops on my belt, I began to investigate the pockets of the only orc I had killed while Tanya turned to her own favorite way to pass the time, impatiently striding up and down the length of the room. Farandil, noble elf that he was, disliked my thieving tendencies except when they spotted and disarmed traps or saved his life, so I went out of my way to take things only when he couldn�t or was too busy to see me do it. Tanya paused in her restless pacing to search one of the various corpses littering the small room. She wasn�t bothered at all by taking things from those who no longer needed them. I tossed aside a poorly tanned rat pelt, but pocketed a small palm full of coppers and the odd silver.

Tanya stood and kicked the unresponsive body. �There�s no point, Syndi. They don�t have enough to make it worth while.� She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mess the orcs had made of the place. The remains of several meals lay scattered about the floor and the once pristine walls, in times past kept a clean white by diligent application of numerous layers of plaster over the original grey stone, were now marred by drawings that were crude in both craftsmanship and subject matter. The whole temple, at least the accessible portions, had fallen into disrepair and the orcs had not helped matters in the least.

�I got enough for a drink.�

�Hasn�t Farandil found the entrance yet?�

�Obviously not.� I sighed. �Tan, calm down. Magic, like gem cutting and sword play, takes time.� Satisfied that I had acquired everything of value from my own orc, I went on to the others and Tanya returned to her endless pacing.

Years of experience made short work of the routine search. I often picked up enough this way to not only pay my guild tithe for the month , but to replace or repair any broken lock picks or other tools of my trade and buy myself and my friends a few mugs of ale besides. Orcs, along with many types of goblin-kin, also sometimes had in their possession uncut gemstones.

I loved to change the dull little rocks most gems start out as into beautiful jewels. My slender, dextrous fingers were a source of pride for me. They made gem cutting easier for me than for many of the humans currently employed to do so and, in addition, enabled me to perform other tasks which were not nearly so legal.

Tanya prowled like a caged tiger and Farandil continued to stare off into places I could not hope to see, so I sat back and pondered my friends. I had been adventuring with them for some three years now. There was nothing romantic or magical about the way we met. Fate had in no way involved itself in our lives at that time. The two of them had hired my services through the local thieves guild and the arrangement had worked out so well that we just, sort of continued working together by mutual consent. An easy-going, casual friendship had sprung up between us, deepening as time went on.

Many people found our little trio a bit odd. Humans, like Tanya, to be sure are not rare. In fact, many of us non-humans think that there are too many of them for their own good or anyone else�s. Farandil was no great curiosity either, though elves are not nearly so common a sight a humans. It was I, to be sure, that caused passers-by to stop and stare.

I was one of the rarely seen Little People, as elves so politely call us. As a gnome it was not unusual that I had skin a deep brown in color, like well polished mahogany, and silver-white hair. What was unusual was the set of shady talents I learned from my old uncle Seldreth, that and my choice of companions. The former was what caused me to leave my village in search of greener pastures and larger crowds, the latter was what I found.

Farandil blinked his slightly slanted eyes and looked around. He had entered the spell early in the fight once it was certain that Tanya and I were in no danger and was only now aware of the corpses scattered over the floor. Both of his arched eyebrows rose in amusement. �Tanya, didn�t your mother teach you to put your toys away when you were done playing?� I hid a snicker behind my hands. The swordswoman stuck out her tongue, crossed her blue eyes, wrinkled her pert nose and let that be her answer. The mage simply shrugged. Her mannerisms had long ago ceased to surprise him. �I�ve found the passageway.�

That was my cue. He found the doors, I had to find ways to open them. �Point the way.�

The mage smiled and silently led the way across the room to a wall that in no way stood out from the others. �I�ve already dispelled the protection magics that were placed on it. The opening is here.� He traced a door shape around a truly distasteful orcish motif then stepped back.

I ran my hands lightly over the wall, both inside and outside the area defined as the doorway. If Farandil said that was the way in, it was the way in, but not all locks are actually on the door they were designed for. �This was a human temple before, wasn�t it?�

�Yeah,� Tanya moved closer to see if she could see anything on the wall that might give a clue.

�Then I�ll need a boost. Most humans wouldn�t place a secret lock or lever anywhere below waist level.� Tanya obligingly dropped to one knee before the door and steadied me as I stood on the other and continued my search. A few moments later the wall shifted back then slid away to one side. �Ta da.�

�That was swift work, Syndi.�

�Hunh, wasn�t even locked. Sloppy construction.�

The tunnel was dusty, but otherwise amazingly clean when compared to the disarray elsewhere and at the far end was our goal. It was not to fall into our hands immediately, though, for the irate relatives of the previous tenants rushed down the tunnel behind us and the fight was on again.

That was the last chance I had to laugh with either of my friends. The fight with the goblins who rushed in at us from behind was the last time that we worked together as any sort of a team.

Finally, there I stood on the dais at the far end of the sermon hall, the altar in front of me, the object of our search in my brown skinned hands. Behind me the sounds of fighting had begun again, carried easily by the construction of a room designed as a place of learning and worship. It was not the ring of metal on metal as swords met and enemies faced off, but the clash of voices raised in pointless argument as my friends fought over who would get what.

Before that had never been much of a problem. There had always been plenty to go around. None of us was particularly greedy or had extraordinary debts or expenses as we were seldom in one spot long enough to accrue either. When on a break from our wanderings we usually had enough divided between us to keep us all quite comfortable for several mooncycles. Tanya did not like jewelry as it got in the way when fighting, Farandil had no need for exotic weaponry or pretty rocks and I did not much care for gold, vastly preferring uncut gems which were never worth much in their unfinished state anyway. Now, however, there was only the ring.

�I should get it!� Tanya shouted, but then again, she almost always shouted. �After all, who killed most of the orcs?�

Farandil, who normally spoke just loud enough for us to hear and no louder, was now arguing at a volume to rival Tanya�s. �And just how did you expect to find the way in here without my spell?� No mention of me or my services, I notice. I shook my head, confused. Where had that come from? They were both right to an extent, but neither human nor elf would ever acknowledge the fact that without the whole group none of us would have made it here.

I tried to ignore their harsh words as I examined the focus of their loud �discussion�. It was small and slender and rather plain. The ring had been made of a common, translucent, pink stone. As I turned it over in my fingers I saw that the brittle material had already seen some wear and tear. There was a tiny hairline crack in the band and it appeared to be chipped as well. That would not matter to many of those who have searched for the ring. The powers the little thing bestowed on it�s wearer, a powerful sort of invisibility and immortality, were not to be scoffed at.

A clash of metal on metal, sword against dagger, started me from my scrutiny. Words had not proven to be enough, steel was now being employed. I shook my head. What other fell powers did the ring have that it could drive close friends to such lengths to possess it?

�Tanya! Farandil! Are you out of your minds?� I shouted. �Stay your hands.� I glared at each in turn, half angry and half surprised that this should come to pass after all we had done for each other in times past. �No spells. No steel.�

�He wants my ring!� Tanya�s voice was ragged with an emotion I had never before glimpsed in her.

�She�s forgotten who suggested this quest in the first place.� Farandil�s normally melodic voice was likewise transformed, the sibilant hissing echoing harshly from the temple�s stone walls.

Claiming the ring for myself would not solve anything and I had no desire for it other than a curiosity about rare magical items. My companions, however, were contending for it as though the ring provided the very breath to their lungs. From their stances and tones, I knew that neither of them would ever give in.

They waited impatiently for me to continue, but I was at a loss. I spread my hands out palms down in a calming gesture. �Please don�t fight. I know we can work something out . . . �

�Give it up gnome!� Farandil snapped. �Don�t try and smooth it over. There is only one ring and it is mine.� Before I could recover from the shock of his words Tanya broke in. �Yes, there�s only one ring. Hand it to me, Syndi.�

Again both of them were looking at me expectantly. Caught in the crossfire my heart broke. I knew that our little group was finished. The thought that this might be why other groups had not returned with the ring crossed my mind briefly. Our friendship would never recover from the wounds it had received this day. Or could it? Within me resolution grew and with it anger that they had placed me in the middle of their fight. I knew what I had to do. I would give them both what they wanted.

I watched them standing there, each sure that I would side with them, and my face hardened. This time neither was right. �Very well,� I said, nodding, and I slid both my index fingers inside the band up to the first knuckle. Exerting all the pressure I could with my slender digits, I pulled. The tough times the ring had seen before now came to my aid. The hairline crack widened and with a sharp snap the brittle stone of which the ring was made gave way and broke.

I sighed once in resignation and stepped down off the dais. Walking to my speechless companions, I silently handed one half of the ring to each and continued past them, right out of the room. I did not look back.