CHAPTER FOUR: THE ORGIN of the QUEST for the ROD OF ZANTALYA

Ravenwind

Ravenwind gingerly opened her eyes, and immediately shut them again. "Ooooooh, my head," she moaned. "Who would've thought a beer dragon's intoxication would leave a hangover?"

 

Gingerly, she framed a prayer to Torm for healing. She could almost feel her god's incredulity as she pled the extenuating circumstances, ("Really, it's not my fault; the brute got me drunk. . . ") but finally the pain passed from her.

 

Looking around, she discovered that someone had taken her upstairs and tucked her into a fairly comfortable bed. Popping down the stairs, she found a few people breakfasting, and got a recap of the night's events. "Damnation," she snorted. "The least they could've done is sober me up and bring me along!" Taking a chair, and diving into a breakfast of her own, she waited patiently for the rest to get up, so they could return to this temple and hear what the lore of the artifact might be.

 

Seated at the table, devouring her breakfast, Ravenwind notices something lost in the prior day's confusion. Ralphy the Giant (Space?) Tequila Worm's necklace (taillace?). With due caution, the woman lifted the finely-wrought item, and examined it. Slender gold links alternated with silver, and a ring with a heavy topaz the exact shade of the finest brandy hung suspended from the chain. Strange runes writhed--wormlike--around the edge of the ring.  The chain did not seem out of the ordinary, most likely used since it as a worm would have difficulties with a ring.  As for the ring itself… Unwilling to place an item so obviously magical on her finger until properly identified, Ravenwind dropped it down the bodice of her armor for later investigation.

 

Raeython

*Raeython wakes up in the morning in surprisingly good health. In fact, he can remember all of the events from last night, which is unusual considering all the 'strong dwavern ale' he partook of. He wonders if somebody slipped him a little clerical healing while he slept, but then he supposes it really doesn't matter. He sees Ravenwind eating breakfast, so he sits down to join her.*

 

"Anything new and exciting going on?"

Ravenwind

Ravenwind, who had been considering splashing some of the sleepy people upstairs with water to wake them (but had refrained, remembering the vicious wedgie counterattack of the day before), fished out the necklace and ring Ralphy T. Worm had left as a calling-card. "What do you make of this?" she asked.

 

Ravenwind

"Looks magical, but have no clue what it does," the ranger replied after turning the ring over and over in his hands. "Too bad Skippy isn't awake yet; he might recognize it."

 

At loose ends, the two fighters made their way to the temple of Elrik, where they met the same sympathetic and sincere priest the others had encountered the day before. Presented with the chain and ring, the priest's face grew disturbed. "The chain isn't magical.  But the ring…There is a powerful anti-detection spell over this item," he announced. "I am not sure if what I see is the truth, but if it is, it would be good," he suggested, "if you never showed this to a priest of Bacchus. I believe, although I am not certain, that it is the Ring of Det. Not does it seem to have the power to unlock--something--" he paused, frowning as he stared at the gemmed ring, "but it also prevents the wearer from becoming intoxicated."

 

Raeython's face became beatific. "In other words, you can drink as much strong dwarven ale as you like, and you'll never feel it?"

 

"My friend, you could drink elven wine all night, and be as fresh as a daisy in the morning."

 

Ravenwind snapped her fingers. "Then this would be the ultimate blasphemy to followers of Bacchus, since it prevents intoxication!"

 

Raeython

*Raeython's eye's take on a crazed expression.*

 

"Hey Ravenwind, why don't you let me hold on to that. It just might be safer on my finger."

 

*Ravenwind gives Raeython a incredulous stare and says:*

 

"I think that the ring is quite safe on my person, thank you very much."

 

*Raeython deflates , and lets out a long sigh.*

 

"I suppose you're right...hey, is that Skippy giving a wedgie to that store owner over there?"

 

*Ravenwind begins to turn around, then suddenly realizing Raeython's intent, locks him with a very cold, flinty gaze. At this point Raeython can no longer suppress his mirth, and starts laughing out loud.*

 

"Can't blame a guy for trying. So, my stingy, ring-hogging friend, what's our next move?"

 

Ravenwind

"Here, have it," she relented, tossing it to him. "Wear it through many toasts to your good health."

 

She paused, looking around. Still no signs of the others. "Well, I'm going to take this extra resurrection scroll I found to that grieving lady elf whose blasted husband got himself killed, and started this whole mess," she announced. "I'll be back in a bit; maybe by then, this priest will have found something out about this set of gauntlets Che and Palladium are looking into. As for the ring," she watched glumly as Raeython slid it off its chain, tucked the chain into a pocket, and placed the ring on his finger, "I suppose we shall discover what it's the key to when we start looking into that gate to the Abyss."

 

Raeython's good humor failed him, and he swallowed. Patting him on the shoulder, she added, "Lose no sleep over it, noble ranger. After all, you're Mielikki's own chosen. Could the hordes of the Abyss who

surely search for this bauble ever scathe you?" She chuckled and ducked out the door.

Raeython

*Raeython shakes his head; some people have a very warped sense of humor. He then pulls his cloak over his head, and slips into the shadows. He runs through the city, then into the woods. Slipping from tree to tree, Raeython deftly makes his way to an ancient grove of trees in the forest west of the city.

 

He approaches the grove, and lets out the sound of a purple warble bird. An answering call is heard from inside the grove, and Raeython cautiously enters. Standing in the middle of the grove is a lady of indiscriminant age. Looking at her face you would think her to be in her early to mid thirties, but her eye seem to hold the wisdom of ages locked in their steel grey orbs. Raeython approaches the lady and bows deeply.*

 

"Mother, I have the artifact whose presence you have sensed."

 

*A voice responds to Raeython's statement with a depth nearly transcending a human understanding.*

 

"Yes, my son, this is indeed the Ring of Det that we have been waiting for. Our cousins in the city see much, but their vision is cloudy. They don't understand the significance of this artifact, or what it signifies. It is indeed a key, but it is much mor than a simple 'door opener'. This ring has the ability to channel a fraction of the power the ancient Druids of Damethracon.

 

Not the key to a simple door, when activated at the proper place, this ring will open a gate to the ruined city of Themecules. It is in that city that the fabled everflowing fountain of tequila resides.

 

Your quest companions are decent people, and for them the fountain will be a great reward. You, however, need to go along for a different purpose. Once you find the fountain, look for the tree of Zantayla, which should be growing near by. Take this scroll and incant the passages, and the tree will 'give up' the fabled Rod of Zantayla, which we have been searching for. Go with these people on their quest, and help them to their spring, but do not fail to bring the rod back home to us. You have the skills, now use your gifts to bring back our heart."

 

"Yes, mother" Raeython responds. "I will not fail you."

 

*Raeython then leaves the forest and travels back to the Rusty Sword to await his companions.*

 

Palladium Muse

PM comes down the stairs, yawning hugely. "Man, what a night." She brightens as she sees who's in the bar.

 

"Hello, all! Alas, I am not long for this realm, but I thought I'd pop in and say hi and that I'm betting the cleric of Elrick will have some info on those bracers tonight."

 

Ravenwind

After dropping off the resurrection scroll at the widow's house in lieu of the funds she had hoped to provide (the widow, it must be noted, showed little eagerness to use the scroll, surrounded as she was by so many consoling young men), Ravenwind made her way to the Temple of Torm, headquarters of her Order.

 

"What is the first duty?"

"Order."

 

"What is the second duty?"

 "Justice."

 

"What is the final duty?"

"Submission to the judgment of Torm."

 

Two Inquisitors stepped forward. "You have failed us twice, daughter."

 

Ravenwind flinched. "How have I failed?"

“First, you carry a sword that should have been turned over to the Order. We find you unworthy to carry it. Submit."

 

Swallowing hard, Ravenwind unbuckled her swordbelt and laid the blades before the Inquisitors. "How else have I failed?"

 

"You had the Ring of Det in your possession, and gave it up. It is not something to be trifled with, for it holds the key to the fearsome rod of Zantayla. This artifact takes on the will and intent of whomever first possesses it after its emergence. The last time it came forth from into the Realms, it fell into the grasp of a necromancer, who slaughtered countless thousands with its powers, and raised them up again as an army as he sought more and more power. He was only stopped by the combined forces of Torm's servants, and a follower of Mystra, who bound the rod into the Abyss centuries ago. You were unwary; your ranger friend may not be all that he seems. If necessary, you must give up your life to prevent that rod from falling into the wrong hands. Submit."

 

"I submit," she whispered. They took her armor from her, and the first lash of the whip bit deeply into her back. "I submit," she repeated. Again, the lash. "I submit!"

 

After what felt like hours, they stopped. "Now pray," they ordered. "Pray for Torm's guidance."

 

A pure white light bathed her as she knelt painfully before the statue, and her wounds healed. A quiet voice spoke in all their minds. “This woman is worthy, for she shall have a great task. She shall protect the follower of Mielikki in his quest, and guide all her companions through the horrors of the Abyss. Give

her back her sword, which she has rightly earned, and know that it is the Flame of Justice. Give her also the shield of Arness, which demons fear. And last, let her go in peace.”

____

As you can see, being lawful good ain’t always a piece of cake.

 

Palladium Muse

 

pure_ultima

Ultima slides through a dimension door and into a forest. He approaches a huge cliff face. He speaks silently a spell, that only he and select others know. A pair of huge closed stone doors appear high up in the cliff. A flight of steps leads up to this. On the side of these steps sit two huge stone dragons. He steps in between them. Their eyes flash open and inspect, then close. He climbs the steps to the top.  The doors are intricately carved with runes and drawings. He places his hands on the doors and they swing silently open. Inside is a huge open cavern, he steps into it. As he does lights flare up around him. There are many doors leading off but in the middle of the hall a fountain plays. He steps towards it.

 

'You called me?' he whispered softly.

 

The fountain replied - 'Many adventurers are seeking the rod of Zantayla, for good or evil.  Whatever happens, neither side must gain this. Before your fall as a god you constructed a complete set of armor and weaponry.  When you reappeared in this form, you were to be given part of this to aid thy quest. Return with the rod, and throw it into the fountains depths.' A bright light descends from the ceiling and a sword and shield appears before Ultima. 'These are the shield and sword of Ultima. Their true abilities were known by you only. And must be relearnt upon this quest’. Go, aid the questors and bring back the rod!' Ultima picks up the sword and shield, each glowing with a faint blue light. He reappears in the Rusty Sword.

 

 Che

Che returns inside the tavern. He grabs a torn rag and wipes the sweat from his brow. One the orcs asks him what he was doing behind the tavern.

 

"Me's tryin' to liven it up a wee bit. We're a goin' to 'ave an archery contest. Two hundred gold pieces to the winner."

 

"How is it going to work? Can anyone enter? Can I enter?" questions another orcish minion.

 

Che motions for three of his hirelings to follow.

 

"Yer see that big ol' wooden wall me's secured to that willow tree." The orcs nod is acknowledgement. "That is a where the target will be a standin'."

 

The orcs look at each other. "You mean, a live standing target?"

 

"Well not a quite." Che waves for one of the orcs to come forward. "Here take these two apples and go place yer back to the wall." The orc does so. "Now take an apple in each hand and extend yer arms o the side." The cooperative and trusting orc does so.

 

The other two orcs begin to giggle. "Looks like a fartin' crucifiction."

 

At fifty paces away Che yells to the target orc. "Now close yer eyes an' don't a be gettin' a jittery."

 

Che informs the other two orcs beside him that the idea of the contest is to target the two apples and split them both with two quick shots. Only bows are to be used. Che demonstrates.

 

Gesturing to one of the orcs Che instructs,"'and me me crossbow."

 

The aged fighter slowly lifts the crossbow and takes careful aim at the spartan target. His eyes squint ever so tighter to a point that they seems shut.

 

The orcs whisper to each other.

 

"Look, his eyes are closed. He's going to shoot blind."

 

"His eyes aren't closed entirely. See. See that. He's looking right at us. You remember him telling us never to talk while he's aiming. We shouldn't talk."

 

"But you're talking."

 

"Doh!"

 

With the introduction of silence, Che adjusts his eyes back to his target. Suddenly a bolt is fired, and an eerie whistling fills the air. As soon as the bolt hit its first target, another flew, embedding deep into the wood after spitting the second apple.

 

"Wow, that's great shooting boss. But what if a contestant misses and there is an, hee hee, unfortunate accident?"

 

"There'll a be no accidents. With the chance of injury which a results in a possible confrontation 'ith a me, only the most a confident marksmen will apply. Now go a get more apples, and spred the word to the bar patrons and to all in the city."

 

The target orc, oblivious to all that has occurred around him commands, "Fire when ready!"

 

Che ponders," Me orcs are loyal and hardy workers but are a missin' some o' their grey matter at times."

 

Che returns inside the tavern to prepare the contest's prize.

 

Palladium Muse

*POP*

 

"Hello all! I'm back, for another bit, anyway!"

 

Saunters up to the bar, watching Ultima out of the corner of her eye as she does.

 

"What's the word, my good man?" she says to Che, who is busying himself with what looks like a miniature treasure chest.

 

"An archer contest, dearie, w' 200 gold to th'winner."

 

"Hmm...I'll give it a go! Entrance fee?"

 

"None, lassie. Give 'er a go."

 

"I think I will!"

 

Stringing her trusty bow, she takes her trusty arrows and goes out back. Lining up a shot, she let's go and the arrow flies true.

 

She returns to the bar.

 

"Okay, the orc's dead. Do I win? Just kidding. I hit the apple. I guess I'll wait until someone else tries it before I claim the prize...don't want there to be a recount of shots or anything."

 

Falconblade

**Falconblade watched Ultima go in amazement. A portal! After debating for a few seconds the Elite Hunter left his beloved Deepwood and followed the other Ranger...

 

....To the mysterious cliff-face that had been haunting his dreams for the last month. All of a sudden he knew what to do. An awareness overtoook him and shunted him aside. Without knowing what was happening his voice spoke the words of a powerful spell, one his mind could not have possibly known.

 

Two huge doors appeared high above him. He climbed the steps and through the doors. He sees ahead of him Ultima, kneeling before a fountain, and receiving the Sword and Shield of Ultima.

 

Falconblade bowed down before the fountain. Then suddenly he heard a voice in his head as he did so. 'You, Falconblade, know that you have been found worthy to accompany Raeython on his quest to find the rod of Zantalya. For his heart is true, and you must accompany him, and watch his back. This quest is critical to the saving of the world. Accept this bow. It was created from the light of a falling star. It will fly true for you, and no other. Behold, Falconblade, receive your gift, and know that you are favoured by the gods.

 

Know, however that your quest is at odds with your friend Ultima's and the time may come when you must battle your friends.'

 

A wondrous bow appeared before him, hovering in the air. Below it hung arrows, fletched with blue feathering.

 

Falconblade took the bow and the arrows and immediately reappeared in the Rusty Sword.**

 

**Back in the Rusty Sword, Falconblade, now equipped with his magical bow, hears word of an archery contest. Thinking it was time to test out his new weapon, he entered. Turning to Palladium Muse he

 smiled, and then unleashed an arrow. It flew straight, and split the arrow of the Muse in twain! Looking at his bow half in amazement, Falconblade bowed to the Muse, and went over to Raeythorn to tell him of his calling.**

 

ilrith

*ilrith sees the spiffy characters emerge outside and follows them* Hmm, an archery contest, let's have

a little try.  Care if join in, no one answers the request.

 

Fine, who needs a bow anyway. Ilrith unsheathes his scimitar. Which he always keeps for the little hairy

situations or just simple when there isn’t room to wield the large blade. Ilrith keeps the scimitar in front up of his face. And closes his eyes.  The orc starts to squint a little. And make terrified sounds.

 

Ilrith lifts blade and with a grunts he flings the scimitar at the orc. The orc starts screaming like a pig,

seeing the blade coming at high speed and shearing towards him. The blade hits the tree with a tremendous force which made the tree shake for a few seconds, while the orc passed out. When ilrith opened his eyes he looks at the apple and remarks the apple together with the orc at the base of the tree."Thought so" mumbles ilrith to himself

 

He rips the sword out of the tree, and walks over to Che."Che, think you gonna need a new target for the peeps here" Ilrith grins while he sheaths his scimitar back in.

 

pure_ultima

Ultima reappears is the bar. Ilrith is giving him a disturbed look, turning around he sees Palladium Muse with exactly the same look in her eye. 'PSST... Palladium, Is there something wrong with me, everyone appears to be staring at me,' he whispers to her.

 

Falconblade appears and steps from the shadows. Ultima notes the odd bow. After seeing Falconblade fire, he comes to a conclusion.

 

'Falconblade, you are one also. I was warned that one day one would come to rival my quest, I was

 told to aid you until that time came when I might have to perish to save the world. Until that dreaded time rears its ugly head, let us be friends.'

 

'Che, two ales place, one for Falconblade here!'

 

Che

Che pours the drinks for Ultima, then walks near Palladium. Bending his elbow next to hers he says,

"Aye, you'd a 'ave to admit that be a mighty fine shootin' by Falconblade there. And a mighty fine bow

he a carries close to 'imself."

 

One of the orcs rushes in to talk to Che.

 

"Boss, our target passed out."

 

Questioning the circumstances Che discovers about ilrith's scimitar episode. A mildly unnerved Che discusses with ilrith.

 

"Ah, there ilrith that was a nice blade work by ye. But me contest called for the bow only fer a reason. Ye see, me target orc 'as no fear o' the arrow nor bolt but due to a rather nasty incident the blade do a frighten 'im dreadfully. A while back me little orc brandished a finely forged short sword which brought 'im great pride. But 'is pride swelled into an unmasterful display of dexterity. Whilst showin' off to me and a 'is friends, me little orc sheathed 'is sword in a most unflattering manner. As ye may 'ave noticed, the orc that I talk to ye about, always carries a small pouch o' filled 'ith down. Tis pouch is the only comfort which always the orc to sit on a 'ard surface. Ever since that a day, this orc fears any a blade."

 

ilrith apologized stating that he had no malevolent intentions. Che chearfully accepts and pours ilrith a drink.

 

"Me thinks though, that me will keep the tournament goin' a bit longer."

 

Falconblade

 **Falconblade turned to Ultima, thanking him for the drink, knowing however that his current good feeling about his friend could evaporate in time.**

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind walked into the tavern once more, her face set, stern, and cold. She carried a shield on her back now, its metal surface covered by a heavy cloth, concealing its sigil. She paused, noting the archery contest sign, and shrugged a bit.

 

"Why don't you give it a go, lassie?" Che asked.

 

"Me, handle a bow?" She actually managed a laugh. "Che, I use swords for a reason: no depth perception. Give me a sling, and I'd brain myself with it."

 

Turning rather stiffly to where the others sat, waiting, and stepped behind Raeython, as though to guard his back. The collected rangers gave her rather an odd look, but said nothing. Removing a small book from her pack, she settled in to read until the quest continued.

 

Che

Che sits with Ilrith and pours him a drink.

 

"Aye. Today it's a day fer the archer. But just as in battle there is a time and a place fer the bow, the blade, the 'ammer, and magic. Fear not Ilrith, today may not a be fer the blade, but there will a be a time that yer scimitar will a sing whether that a be in contest or in adventure."

 

Che then walks to the table of Ravenwind.

 

"Welcome again fair lass. Me's a hope ye not a be readin' too long. You's a know what readin' can do to ya in me tavern."

 

Ravenwind looks up at Che with questioning eyes and shakes her head silently.

 

"Well just a look at Dravin over yonder. He just a been there a readin' 'is scroll fer many a day now. Stiff as a board, the boy be. Not a-dead though, the smell ain't a strong enough yet. Me daughters 'ave ta sweep the dust offa 'is shoulders every morn. Aye that's a what too much readin' 'ill do fer ya."

 

"Coulda maybe propped Dravin to 'old me target apples in the contest. Nothin' a-fears that boy in 'is state. But nay, me jest. Me's a too feared o' the great magics young Dravin possesses.

 

With a quaint wink as he leaves..."Patience deary, patience."

 

Ravenwind

Thanks Che for his concern for her well-being, with a sidelong glance at the rather dusty Dravin. "Here, now," she told the dwarven barkeep, "It is most unseemly that you must ever be the one to start these contests. As I needs must be giving up most of my possessions, here is a prize fit for a tourney of wits." From under her cloak, she produced a small silver instrument.

 

"What in the name of the Nine Hells is that, m'lassie?"

 

"I think," she stressed, "that it's a piccolo. But I can feel magic emanations coming from it, vibrating in my hands. Thus, let it be the prize for a barding contest." She thought for a moment. "Since there need to be rules for judging such a contest, let them be these: first, the bard must correctly identify the horn's magic. Second, he or she must judge if it can be safely played in your bar. And third, the bard must play upon it Danilo Thann's 'Songs in the Style of the Tethyrian Wood Elves'--a piece originally meant for the lute, but a good test of skill, I think."

 

With a friendly nod, she dropped the piccolo on the bar and returned to her post, guarding Raeython's back.

 

 

ArchMage Alexander

*A portal opens and Alexander falls out, covered in scorch marks and looking rather angry. Stands up and looks around.*

 

"I'm right here," says a cat hopping out of the portal before it closes, "I'd say we did pretty well."

 

"#@%@! I HATE the Abyss!" looks over at Che, "Sorry about disappearing like that, one moment I was in the temple, and the next I was sitting in the Abyss with a very nasty tan’ari gloating over me. I, however, taught him to try to enslave me though. Unfortunately, our little spat, which I'd say I won by the way, attracted a bunch of other nasties. So I spent the last few days battling through the Abyss."

 

Looks down at himself, "I'll be back, I gotta clean up." Disappears before the astonished Che can reply.

 

Sainso

Swaggers into the bar, then takes a step back, again he walks into the bar, again he takes a step back. The attention of the bar is upon him.  Again he walks into the bar, he takes another step back, then he ducks under the bar, grips it firmly then places moves the bar back to its original temporal and spatial environment

 

Falconblade

 **Falconblade slept....

 

He traveled back to the mysterious cliff-face, and as he had done the day before he spoke the words

 that opened the doors. However he could not see the fountain. Suddenly the voice came into his head again.

 

'Falconblade, your quest will be arduous. You have a trusty companion at your side. However you will need more. I have brought you here because I underestimated the enemy before - you will need this if you will succeed.'

 

A mysterious shimmering cloak appeared in front of him. He could not exactly see it, but he knew its outline.

 

With a start, Falconblade woke up, back in the Rusty Sword. On the floor beside him was the cloak....**

 

Che

Che oversees the minimal activity within his establishment. He mulls over the piccalo that Ravenwind put up as a prize. Remembering his days as a pretty good whistler he walks over to where the instrument lay.

 

“Me's used to sound 'ust like a mornin' swallow, I did." Motioning to Charon, "Ye know deary, me's used to court yer mother with a whistlin' deluge of dwarvin' war songs."

 

Charon perks with interest, "She must have really loved your musicianship."

 

"Well, nay. Her 'eart leaned toward Che the day me stopped me whistlin'. But me war buddies did appreciate the singin' o' wind by the campfire."

 

"Father, why don't you try the piccalo? Would be a nice addition to the tavern to have a permanent musician."

 

Che leans to grasp the brightly beckoning woodwind. Suddenly he stops himself and quickly turns to Charon.

 

"Nay, deary. Tis a magical instrument an' me no bein' no magical sort, won't a be touchin' the likes of that. And neither be any o' me clan. Lest it be fer the true masters o' the magical realm."

 

Che continues to gaze at the piccalo.

 

"Wonder there be any fireballs comin' outta that wee flute?"

 

Che returns behind the bar after Emerith, the eldest daughter, has trimmed her father's beard. The dwarf fighter stands on a small crate as if to tower over all the patrons. Not a single eye is directed his way to notice the handsomeness that now adorns the bar. Che, a bit disheartened, steps down and notes to Emerith...

 

"Ye 'ave done a fine job 'ith me scraggled 'iskers. Me a proud o' ye dear daughter."

 

"You'll always be the most handsome one here father, at least in our eyes."

 

The other daughters nod and smile in agreement. Che's pride begins to beam again with profound radiance, until one of the orcs is noticed. The orcish minion is also nodding in approval and casts Che a wink.

 

Turning red with anger and embarassment Che bellows to the orc, "Ye no be a lookin' at me like a that, else there be a fresh pot o' orc grog to begin stewin'"

 

The daughters laugh and continue their wenching duties.

 

The next day, Che arises again, refreshed to meet the day. His daughters are all sewing new fringes upon the tapestries. The orcs are finding the crannies of grease in the kitchen and cleansing them. The tavern staff has the time to tend to such mediocrites since the patronage has slowed it's arrival.

 

"Heh, maybe me should give Dravin a good kick an' see what turns up."

 

Muriel interjects, "Father, the last time you attempted to kick someone, you ended up counting the cobwebs on the ceiling."

 

"Aye, me's a forgot that. Anyway git an' clean the cobwebs away!"

 

 A while later, he concluded, "Aye, those tapestries look a mighty fine they do. Ane me kitchen, yer could actually eat in there."

 

Rachel looks at her sisters, each of them begging for her to approach their father.

 

"Father, to whom are you talking?"

 

"What? Oh, no one deary. Absolutely no one. Just a thinkin' out loud me dear."

 

By late afternoon, Che sat comfortably in the corner. His head drooped slowly downward, interjected with momentary bobbings of breath. Cheran quietly floated to the side of her father, and rested her hand on his shoulder. With a gentle push...

 

"Father. Papa."

 

Che suddenly alerts himself to her presence.

 

“Wha... What! I'm not asleep...the answer is twelve."

 

Ravenwind

A loud POP echoed in the silence of the empty tavern. A large goggle-eyed bird emerged from the resulting puff of smoke, and sat on a nearby barstool. Impatient with the lack of service, it pecked Che on the forehead, waking the dwarf. "C'mon, c'mon, you gotta hide me," it cackled at him.

 

"What, huh?" Che replied, not at his swiftest after being awakened.

 

"I said," the bird said, craning its long neck from side to side, "you gotta hide me. Someone used a rod of polymorph on me, and turned me into this shape--on the most dangerous day of the year for birds!" It squawked some more. "Please, hide me!"

 

"Suren I will," Che rumbled, standing up and escorting the bird into the kitchen. . .

 

 Che

Che hauls the bird under his arm into the kitchen. He ponders that it was a while back that this particular bird gave a holiday its crowning (Canadian Thanksgiving is in early October). But with a forgiving nature Che bypasses the orcs, who have started to sharpen knives, and heads downstairs. Within the cellar, the lonely dwarf pores a bowlful of tequila and places it beside the bird. Poring a drink for himself Che converses...

 

"Ye did pick one the worst times to be polymorphed, ye did. Many around 'ere would favor a fine taste o' ye. But meself would enjoy the company."

 

Che pulls up a chair and begins to listen to the turkey.

 

"Drink little one. Tis form o' yers will be yers for a while, since none o' me patrons are magical. Except fer Dravin, but me thinks that me may 'ave to use 'im as a prop fer the others to 'ang their capes to dry. So tell ol' Che, where were ye headin'?"

 

The turkey eloquently recalls the fantastic nature of his trials and tribulations. With the artistry that only a turkey could display the bird acts out many of his adventures.

 

Che looks blankly at the turkey bethinking the good taste of his tequilla. To himself he thinks..."Tis 'as got to be one o' me finest batches o' hooch. Must be the proper distillin' heat that me's a usin'. No, no, maybe its them brandy soaked recoverin' barrels. Aye the barrels ‘tis. But there be no real brandy taste in 'ere. Giselle would a know better 'hat be the secret. Aye, maybe ol' Che fluked on a somethin' 'ere. Naw, tis me expertise (hic). Aye, me's a do know how to prepare a fine drink. Hmmm, me glass is a little empty."

 

As Che reaches for a refill, the turkey questions..."so after that I came here. What do you think of that?"

 

"What? Oh, sorry me friend. Me mind a wandered a bit. Where did you say you were a headin'?"

 

After a quiet night in the cellar Che awakes to find the turkey nestled comfortably in his lap. The dwarf smiles, thinking that he never had a pet before, but realizes this isn't a real turkey. Waking the bird, Che gently carries it upstairs and through the kitchen. The fiendishly salute their master with waving knives. Che shakes his head in disagreement.

 

Once inside the tavern, Che places the turkey upon a barstool and says...

 

"Ye should a be safe now. Most o' the people around be stuffed 'ith yer likes and most a likely don't 'ave any more hankerin' fer the taste of yer likes. Feel free to do as ye wish. Me's got a wee task to fulfill, so enjoy and don't a go flutterin' up me daughters dresses or me kind 'eartedness will a change fer the worst."

 

Ravenwind

"In that case," it squawked, "it's time for me to celebrate. I'd like to buy a shot of my old favorite. . .(ahem) Wild Turkey bourbon."

 

Che stared at the bird. Where, he wondered, has that "ba-da-bum" sound come from?

 

Che

With the sound of the snare and bass drum still ringing in his ears, Che pours the bourbon in a bowl for the bird.

 

"Ye sip that slowly, ye hear. Me's not a wantin' yer gettin' outta hand and callin' in more o' yer kind and turnin' me tavern into some turkey coop."

 

Palladium Muse

A street urchin runs into the tavern.

 

"Master Che," he pants. "Be ye Master Che?"

 

“Aye, laddie, that'd be me and no other. What's the rush?"

 

"I binna sent from that Brother Braxis o'er at the Temple o' Elrick. Says 'e sent an earlier missive, but as ye no did come, 'e sent me to find out why."

 

 

Ravenwind

The turkey squawked in excitement. "The Temple of Elrick! Can I come with you? Maybe they can restore me to my true form. . . " The brown bird sounded very forlorn, and it dunked its beak back into its shotglass. "I miss having hands."

 

Che

"Aye, tis would be a pleasant jaunt from this place."

 

Che draws the bowl of bourbon away from the turkey. "Ye no be drinkin' if ye be travellin'. Clear heads are what are a needed."

 

The turkey rears its head back and adjusts its steadiness, then nods in agreement.

 

Ravenwind

Extending its wings for balance, the turkey hopped onto the dwarf's shoulder. Che glared at it a bit. "Now, see here, ya ain't a hawk, and ya ain't a parrot--and no other birds are belonging on someone's shoulder!"

 

"Did you want me to flap around behind you then through all the streets, like a dog?" it offered, attempting to wag its feathery tail.

 

Growling, Che made his way to the Temple of Elrick, a rusty sword in one hand, and a turkey perched on the opposite shoulder. Quite a few heads turned, and even Dravin seemed shaken from his reverie as they left.

 

 

 Che

 Che stands before the temple's massive architecture. Alone he must remember his manners and greet the religious member inside with respect.

 

"Ya know turkey, ye don't mind if me calls ya turkey, I do a remember there a bein' some mighty fancy wine there inside. Let's go a take a look."

 

Che

Che carefully retraces his steps to the plush audience room where he first met Braxis.

 

"Aye, turkey, we be gettin' warm. This is where that big elf Braxis was drinkin' fancy hooch, claret he's a call it. Oh look there's a bottle o' it right there."

 

Che lumbers over to a serving table and pours the wine into two crystal goblets.

 

"You know Che, I thought it was you that said we should be clear headed. I don't know this place but I feel its magic everywhere. Myself, I really don't want to offend anyone here."

 

"Nonesense, there turkey. If Braxis didn't want us to taste 'is hooch he a wouldn't 'ave left it out in the open. Cheers."

 

The turkey pretends to sip the wine while he admires the finely cut marble sculptures aligning the walls. Everything is almost strangely perfect in this environment. All but one item.

 

"Che what is that old glove doing there by the fireplace?"

 

"Oh dear, me gauntet. Tis the item to which I need direction in."

 

Che retells the story of his missing wife and adds..."..and do ya see this rope thingy wrapped along the base of the gauntlet, well as you can see its been cut. The mage that made these gauntlets made many like them each of them only different is one way. The braid of this rope be different."

 

"Ah, I see." said the turkey. "So that left gauntlet can be matched with the missing right gauntlet by

checking the braid of the ropes.

 

"Aye there bird. You's a got it."

 

"But what is the magical warning that the mage gave you."

 

"Well as far as me's knows, if ye attempt to match mismatched gauntlets then a vile and 'orrifying death be come upon the two owners of the gauntlets. Plus a death come upon the other two peoples owning the other mismatched set. It a all turns into a dreadful mess. That is why me's a need some type o' protection from Braxis and his help in locatin' me wife."

 

Ravenwind

"Hmm," the turkey muttered, hopping closer to the glove. It cocked its head from side to side, looking at the gauntlet with one eye, then the other. "Hmm. Very interesting. Tell me," it said, suddenly as business-like as a large, fat, brown bird with a wattle hanging from its neck can get, "was the last time you saw your wife in Tethyr? Or had she friends or kin there that she maintained contact with throughout that whole civil war incident of theirs?"

 

Palladium Muse

"A question I was going to ask myself, good bird," Braxis says, entering the room. He busies himself at the decanters also, and seats himself, a cordial glass cradled in one hand. "And also, did your wife know of the dire prophecy the mage told you of concerning the gauntlets. For it is dire indeed, and more than a death of the body that it portends, but a death of everything that makes one unique as well. Necromantic magic of a very powerful variety has been woven into the making of these, as well as the other enchantments. And above all else, the gauntlets must not be reunited.

 

Che

Che momentarily distances himself from the bantering of questions, and mostly wishes to indulge in more wine. But realizing that his wife may be in danger adjusts his demeanor to one of great seriousness.

 

"Aye turkey, me wife does 'ave a couple o' very dear friends from Tethyr. One being a young lad that me wife tended fer when she be a maid fer a Tethyr family. But they always a come 'ere to visit. Me wife is also dwarven like meself and wouldn't normally venture to Tethyr territory. Meself fear a to go there also 'cause o' there bein' still some o' the royalist bast*rds 'angin' around that don't like the non pure humankind."

 

"And a Braxis ye be finely adorned today if I do say so meself. Me wife did a know the gauntlet she a carried were a magical, but to a what extent, me's not a know. But she would not a dismiss the gauntlet from 'er possession, that a me does know."

 

"If ye think it a be best to go there, me's a gonna need some illusion to cover me grand dwarfhood."

 

"That can be arranged," Braxis says, inclining his head in thanks at the compliment to his wardrobe, which were fine robes. "However, should you go, the gauntlet needs to remain behind. If you have something of hers, a lock of hair, perhaps, I can fashion a scry of her to tell her where she is, provided her gauntlet will not block such attempts."

 

Che

"Oddly enough, Braxis, me 'as her baby left toe. Now don't a be givin' me a look. She a lost it durin' a mighty bad winter and gave it to me to use to identify her if she ever came under such a condition that me's couldn't recognize 'er. Will this a 'elp?"

 

The turkey shakes his head, wondering about the intelligence of the dwarven kind.

 

Palladium Muse

Braxis raises his eyebrows at the dwarf, and says, "And here I was trying to be discreet about asking for fingernail parings. The toe will be perfect. Bring it, and I will attempt the scry. I pray to Elrick that we will be successful," he adds, with a significant glance upwards, almost as if he's putting this god of his on notice, but in a playful way.

 

Ravenwind

"But first," Braxis said, leveling a stare at the turkey, "just who--and what--are you, my friend? How were you so knowledgeable about a gauntlet that took me a long night of scrying to find information about?"

 

The turkey squirmed. It had been gently pecking at the gauntler, as if trying to nudge it off its table. "Weeelllll," it said, straightening out its feathers. "I'm starting to forget my own name lately.

But I remember seeing a glove not unlike this one in Tethyr when I passed through there a few months ago, before that damnable wizard changed me into this form. But," it cackled, turning to eye the glove again thoughtfully, "I think it was just a really good forgery. The stitching along the side was in copper wire, not gold, and the cording was subtly different."

 

Braxis stared at the large bird, somewhat dumbfounded, as was Che, by the sheer amount of detail.

"Ahem," the priest said. "Let's see if we can't get you looking a bit more presentable, shall we?" He held his hands over the turkey's wattled head, murmuring. Then he stopped suddenly, and looked bewildered. Nothing had happened. Then his lips twitched. "I'm afraid this is going to take a rather large service of atonement from you, my feathered friend," he said, chuckling ruefully. "Elrick seems to be laughing too hard right now to remove the spell, but he might have recovered by the time you get back from helping Che recover his wife.

 

The turkey spluttered indignantly. "Laughing? Well, I never heard of such a thing from a god. Seems lacking in the proper digntity," the cackled some more, before settling into a quiet sulk.

 

Palladium Muse

Braxis intones, "It is not for us to question the gods' dignity," and it is obvious a grin is not far from his lips as he says it. "Perhaps he will not only have composed himself but come up with an answer to your problem, should you prove yourself worthy."

 

 

And so Che set off on an adventure of his own, while the band of adventurers who frequented his tavern attended to their own business.

 

 

Raeython

*Raeython broods about his current situation. He realizes that a terrible burden has been laid upon him with this quest. For him to have heard the call again after so many years bears tidings of great consequence. He had split from his position years ago, and had made his separate way through the world. He had left so much behind...but that was another world altogether. He thought he left that all in his past, but that past is coming back to haunt him.

 

Raeython never wanted to be the hero. All he ever wanted to do was protect the grove. The grove...how many years since he had been there. How long since he had bathed his soul in the presence of those 'trees'. When they called to him so many years ago...

 

Raeython snaps that train of thought, and rides a maelstrom of near forgotten emotions as he brings himself back to the current time. He notices Ravenwind standing behind him for the first time, as if she were protecting his back. As he turns to regard her, for an instant he sees something in her eyes which disturbs him greatly. For just one split second, he saw something there that shouldn't have been there...fear.

 

Not, so he thought, a fear in the sense of being afraid, but fear that there is something she has to do, but doesn't like. For just that one terrible second, Raeython didn't know who he was looking at. But, as the Ranger disappears into the shadows of the forest, so to did that look fade from Ravenwind's eyes, leaving only a memory of its momentary presence.

 

Raeython hears about the archery contest, but does not feel like entering. A great burden has been placed upon his shoulders, and his revelry has been cut short for the moment. With dread expectation, Raeython awaits the onset of their journey.

 

Raeython turns to Ravenwind:*

 

"Are we ready to begin the quest? Have we gathered a group with witch to quest for the fountain, and are all prepared?"

 

*Raeython hangs his great cloak on a wall peg, and instead of his normal studded leather, he is wearing armor black as the deepest night. They seem to be made of scales, but each scale is shiny and hard-looking like some sort of black steel. The armor looks incredibly strong, yet the way Raeython moves within it, it is almost like he isn't wearing armor at all. Raeython inquires of Ravenwind:*

 

"Who shall accompany us on our noble quest?"

 

Ravenwind

She then turned to the noble ranger whom her god had charged her to either protect, or slay. "Methinks

we should yet aid Palladium and Che, that they may chose to accompany us with free hands and hearts. Mayhap Che's wife will prove an adventuress of worth as well, if she yet lives." She paused. "While your brothers of the Order of the Woods seem trustworthy, I will yet watch them closely." Her fingers closed around the hilt of the Flame of Justice, and she stared off into the distance in melancholy.

 

 She sighed, berating herself for her cowardice. "Be that as it may," she finally added, bracing herself.  "We might also chose to depart for the Swamp of S'kai now, at the break of day, and let the others catch up as they will. I have procured horses for our journey. Never let it be said that I am uneager for the taste of tequila." She essayed a smile.

 

Raeython had the distinct impression that the most humble servant of Torm was edging around some truth she did not wish to speak. Not a lie, precisely, but not the whole truth, either.

Palladium Muse

PM thanks Ravenwind profusely for the coffee and takes a cautious sip, finding it just the right temperature, drinks with more gusto.

 

"Aye and right enough, those entities are a demanding lot. So, what are you two so deep about?"

 

Ravenwind

The red-haired warrior studied the Muse consideringly. Should she take the woman into her confidence? "What do you know," she asked cautiously, "about the fate of every servant of Torm who has carried the Shield of Arness into battle?" She took a long swallow of her own coffee. "Duty is as heavy as a mountain," she whispered.

 

Not waiting for an answer, she handed the Muse a pendant from her belt pouch. "Here, I believe I may trust you with this. This is a periapt against poison, most blessed. Torm's hand guards me against the sting of most venoms, but you have no such defense. Wear it, my good friend."

 

Palladium Muse

Gravely accepts the item from Ravenwind.

 

"My thanks," she said, inclining her head and adorning the periapt. "As to the servants of Torm, I gather from your disposition that you in fact carry this shield, but I know not the fate of those who do. My ear is not unsympathetic, feel free to bend it. It mayhap be that I can help."

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle walks into the bar, magical helm under one arm, her hair tousled with a few bits of straw poking out in various places.. Squirming on her shoulder is Ralphy T. Worm who appears to be shimmering with laughter.

 

"Laugh it up, Ralphy, laugh it up! When I said break my fall, I expected something a little less, well, itchy."

 

Giselle starts to scratch her shoulder, which causes several pieces of straw to fall to the ground. Disgusted, she begins to scratch her head, causing another shower of straw.

 

"Ye know, I feel like one of Che's brainless daughters trysting with that stable boy."

 

Emerith, Che's first daughter, overhears and glares at Giselle.

 

Rachel, Che's ninth daughter, gives a small squeal and runs into the back room.

 

Cheran, Che's third daughter, quickly glances around, blushes, and begins to industriously wash the tables.

 

Muriel, Che's seventh daughter, passes by with one tray, and with the other arm sharply elbows Giselle in the ribs.

 

"Umph"

 

Giselle looks around with total innocence, spots the Muse, and hobbles over. She waves to Cheran, who looks up red-cheeked with embarrassment.

 

"Hey, Cheran, bring us a bottle of tequila and some salty, roasted peanuts."

 

Giselle flips her some gold coins, which Cheran adroitly grabs and quickly runs off.

 

Giselle smiles at the Muse and sits herself down at the table.

 

"Top of the morning!"

 

Ralphy bobs his head in good will.

 

Palladium Muse

"Greetings, Giselle! And how are you on this fine morning?"

 

Sneezes violently, spraying the bar with coffee.

 

"Ewwwww."

 

Ravenwind

"Um, Giselle. . ." Ravenwind began, "I think it only fair to mention to you that I'm starting to have some suspicions about this tequila spring. Think about it: if it's located in the Abyss, can it really be a good thing?"

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle smiles at Raeython and Ravenwind, who appear grave. Her smile quickly leaves her.

 

"This appears serious! Have things gone so deadly wrong, then?"

 

Giselle considers them all.   "Do you have need of a mage in this endeavour. Ralphy and I have a strong desire for some adventuring this morn."

 

Palladium Muse

"Agreed. Also, as it has since been revealed that there is a similar spring in the basement of this very building...and I've never been that fond of Twinkies and EZ Cheez to begin with..."

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle begins to hum happily.

 

"Yes! Che's been VERY busy! Almost makes me want to abandon adventuring. But one has to support oneself."

 

Cheran arrives with the tequila and some glasses. Giselle pours everyone a round of drinks and belts down hers.

 

Raeython

*Even the salt and the lime he takes can't seem to get the bitter taste of the tequila out of Raeython's mouth, or maybe it's not the tequila that is leaving the bitter taste. Everybody is acting as if nothing is wrong, but their is a tangible feeling of tension in the air. Even the arrival of the flamboyant Giselle doesn't dispel the aura of menace that surrounds the party. Raeython stands up and asks:*

 

“Is everybody ready to start?"

 

Palladium Muse

 "We are waiting for the noble Che to see if perchance he can't join us. Shouldn't be long."

 

Ravenwind

"My swords and my skills are at your command, my friend," Ravenwind replied, a brief smile flashing across her face.

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle pours another glass of tequila and appears melancholy.

 

"Yes! Quests can be a dangerous business. So many friends loved and lost. And this seems to be dangerous than most."

 

Giselle, in a bout of unusual seriousness, looks around at her new found friends and wonders if the risk is worth the cost. Especially since the tequila seemed to be flowing in copious amounts. She imagines more can be gained here than the amazing tequila spring, however. She knows the glory and untold riches of returning from such a noble quest would be enormous.

 

Ralphy T. Worm inches toward Giselle's newly poured glass of tequila. Happily, he dives into the glass and begins to back float.

 

bernard the brave

 BOO!

 

Palladium Muse

Jumps a mile high at Bernard's entrance.

 

"Don't DO that!!!"

 

Then, as if sensing Giselle's doubts, smiles at her and says, "T'will be a quest of glory and riches, to be sure, but foremost, one of companionship. I've found myself good and grand friends in this tavern, and fancy a bit of a go-round with them."

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle jumps out of her seat!

 

"Eek! "

 

Who was that masked booer, she wonders! Vast amounts of straw settles around her.

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind wonders if it were just her, but she could have sworn she saw a hamster making a beeline for the door. . .

 

Palladium Muse

*Wonders how Che will take to being invaded by miniature giant space hamsters as well as gerbils and hedgehogs...*

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle, feeling a bit melancholy, pours herself another glass of tequila (since Ralphy had appropriated the first one). She belts this one down and begins to ponder.

 

"To quest or not to quest, that is the question?"

 

Ralphy begins to squirm, obviously trying to get Giselle's attention.

 

"What's that Ralphy? Yes, I agree, this place needs some livening up. Its been hours, and no Bacchus fellows bursting through the doors, no exploding hedgehogs, no ale elementals, and amazingly, no fireballs. Truly amazing actually, although a bit on the slow side!"

 

Ralphy begins to squirm, and Giselle listens intently.

 

Ralphy T. Worm

Ralphy T. Worm, sensing his mistress' melancholy, begins to bob his head. Suddenly the room is filled ith an odd ballad.

 

"Wasting away again in Margaritaville..."

 

Oddly, all the salt shakers in the bar begin to bob to and fro. Giselle begins to smile.

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind slowly uncoiled from her position behind Raeython, and stared at the squiggling tequila worm. Is he spelling out letters?" she asked Giselle. "He looks remarkably like a tipsy alphabet soup. . . "

 

Shaking her head, and wondering where that notion had come from, since she had never even HEARD of lphabet soup before, Torm's servant, noted, "Well, as all here assembled appear ready for action, let s leave some horses here for Che, the archmage Alex, and whomso'er wishes to join us, and at least et cracking for this swamp. Even if the tequila spring is a sham, it behooves us to clear up the mystery f it, if only to warn others from pursuing such a course."

 

With a bleak smile, she stepped out of the inn, to where she'd hitched several horses. Mounting up, she patiently waited for the others, occasionally mopping the sweat from under her helm.

 

Che

Che finally rises after an awful night's rest. After a gregarious yawn and mindful butt scratching be pours himself a cup of coffee.

 

"Me's 'ad the weirdest dreams me did. "amsters, and gerbils, and 'edgehogs (shudders)."

 

"Me's thinks that the Archer prize of two hundred pieces o' gold shall go to Falconblade." Che instructed Cheran to present Falconblade with the reward when he returns.

 

Raeython

*Raeython turns to Ravenwind.*

"What is our plan of attack?"

 

Ralphy T. Worm

Giselle gives Ravenwind a nod. She whips out her bag of mini-hold and begins to wiggle her fingers and mutter...

 

"Right! We'll need swamp boats (standard issue, turbo-charged), bug repellent (that mage Avon, she makes the best), fungus-be-gone (Alchemist Absorbine - truly skilled), swamp boots, Witch Hazel's anti-itch cream, and croco-guard - don't leave home without it! Er, I'm forgetting something, yes, what could it be?"

 

Ralphy begins to squirm madly.

 

"Oh, yes! A case of tequila, a case of dwarven ale, a case of vodka, a couple bottles of whiskey, some              salt, a bit o' lime, bear pretzels, roasted peanuts, beef jerky, file mignon, lobster, pork rinds, ...."

 

Giselle continues to mutter as wave after wave of products, food, and various consumables miniaturize into the tiny sack.

 

ArchMage Alexander

*Gateway opens, and Alexander and a cat step out.*

 

"Ah, nothing a good bath and a meal can't fix. So, what's everyone been up to while I was gone?"

 

Che

Che welcomes Alexander.

 

"Aye, ye does sure a look a better after some spit 'n polish. Me's a returnin' yer ring o' protection fer now. Until we's a get a wee bit organized me may need its comforts later."

 

"If ye 'ave any bardin' skill, there's a magical pic..., a pliclala, a piccoloo, argh, a wee little flute that needs some attention. Ravenwind offered the instrument as the contest and yes, it be the prize also."

 

ArchMage Alexander

"Alright, Che. How'd it all turn out anyway?"

 

Palladium Muse

With a yawn, PM shambles down the stairs and surveys the room. Walking up to the bar, she asks Che for coffee.

 

"Where's Ravenwind?" she asks Alex.

 

"I don't know, just got here not too long ago myself."

 

Che calls to one of his daughters, asking for the whereabouts of Ravenwind.

 

"She be outside, Pa."

 

"An' there's yer answer," he tells PM, setting a mug of triple espresso in front of her.

 

After taking a few sips, she salutes Che and Alex and goes outside. Spying Ravenwind on her horse, she approaches, eyeing the beast dubiously.

 

"Horses?" she asks. "You never said anything about horses."

 

Ravenwind

Having been patiently sitting outside for QUITE some time now, Ravenwind was all to glad to dismount. "Is there anything amiss with horses?" she asked, looking over the beasts.

 

Just then, something caught the corner of her eye--a small figure, scarcely more than two feet tall, buzzed past in a blur of motion, and raced into the tavern. "Oh, no," she muttered, and dashed in after it.

 

Inside, the blur resolved itself into the tiny figure of a humanoid male, who stood on the counter, glaring up at Che. "I said, I want a mug of strong dwarven ale!" the creature piped.

 

With a bemused expression, the dwarven barkeep set a mug down in front of the creature. Hefting up the mug, which was larger than its head, the creature drank, and drank, and drank. "Keep 'em coming," he finally said, letting the proportionately huge mug drop onto the counter top. "Let me know when this is used up," he added, tossing a tiny bag, no larger than a thimble, onto the bar.

 

Che carefully opened the bundle, and stared at the contents. "Lad," he began, "'Tisna enough gold here to pay for the one ye just drank."

 

"That's pixie dust, the most precious material on earth!"

 

"Not in this bar, 'tisna!"

 

"This is an outrage! You're discrimiating against my money just because I'm small!" With that, the creature leaped off the bar, and ran around the room in a blur, running up Che's daughters' dresses, making them scream and beat at their legs, jumping from table to table, and stopping once to give Giselle a tiny pinch on the fanny. Then it dashed out the door between Ravenwind's boots.

 

"What in the name of Moradin was that?" Che bellowed.

 

"Everyone, check your belongings!" Ravenwind shouted over the top of all the commotion.

 

 

Palladium Muse

Bemusedly, PM follows Ravenwind into the bar, after giving the horse a warning glance. The horse snorts derisively.

 

The bar is in chaos (as usual), the barmaids are screaming and doing a strange little dance, Che is staring at them, and patrons are frantically feeling their belongings.

 

Sure enough, the cry goes up. "I've been robbed!"

 

Ravenwind sighs. "I TOLD them."

 

"What is it?" PM asks, watching the going's on with a twinkle in her eye.

 

Ravenwind

Raeython's hand flew to his hand, checking to see if his precious ring was still safely there. His heart almost stopped when his questing fingers found nothing. "The ring!" he cried out, before stopping himself. No need to show all these others exactly how important the artifact actually was, after all.

 

Giselle stared down at her tequila glasses, the hair on her head, usually so flowing and luxuriant, actually bristling in fury. "Where," she began, not a trace of amusement in her usually jocular voice, "is Ralphy? Did--did that thing--WORMNAP him??"

 

Ravenwind shook her head, and exchanged a long glance with the Muse. "These thefts were not random," Torm's servant finally decided. "This was a planned attack--by whom, I cannot say. But if we are to go on, we needs must track down both the ring, and Ralphy."

 

Giselle began to sniffle. "He was always such a good worm!" she wailed. "All he ever asked for was a little tequila. What do they want him for? Do you think there'll be a ransom demand?"

 

Palladium Muse

The amusement fades rapidly.

 

"What was that? I need to know so we can track it."

 

bernard the brave

At this time, Bernard wanders in, looking a little dazed.

 

"I had this weird dream!" he said to no one in particular

 

"I was in bed then just suddenly appeared in here, scared some people and then disappeared again" he said, scratching his beard

 

"What's all that about eh?"

 

Suddenly, Bernard looks up and sees that something is afoot

 

"What's afoot?" Bernard asks lookly worriedly at Giselle's furious hair

 

Raeython

*Raeython notices the theft of the ring after the sprite is gone. He thinks to himself, for the ring to have been stolen off of his very hand after he had been warned...there must have been magic involved. His first impulse is to chase the tiny thief, but he realizes that it is arlready far to late for that.

 

Fortunately, a bond had been created between himself and the ring, and he can sense its presence drifting farther away. Someone or something is threatening his solemn mission, and that person or thing will pay most dearly. Raeython then checks the potions he has in his neverfull belt pouches, and is satisfied with the contents. He stands up and says to Ravenwind and Palladium Muse:*

 

"Don't worry, I can track this thief. Shall we leave right away?"

 

Palladium Muse

"You can track it?" PM asks him. "Good. Yes, let's catch this filthy thief before he can go too far."

 

Ravenwind

"Quickly would be the operative term," Ravenwind interjected, tapping her toes impatiently. "Quicklings are swift; it could be miles from here by now. If there is anyone here missing anything, I suggest 'twould be best if we left posthaste!"

 

 Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle, in tears, distressed, frightened, despondent, depressed, miserable, etc., etc.

 

"Ralphy! Oh, Ralphy!"

 

*sob*, *sniff*, *sob*, *snort*

 

"My poor Ralphy! My wondrous worm!"

 

*Giselle whimpers in obvious misery*

 

"Oh Bernard, how could this happen?"

 

*Wail of despair*

 

*Giselle falls into Bernard's arms and begins to sob hysterically*

 

Palladium Muse

The Muse, patting Giselle on the back, tells her, "Don't worry, we'll find him."

 

To the others, she says, "Okay, let's go then!!!" and heads for the door.

 

bernard the brave

"There, There my lovely" says Bernard, stroking Giselle's hair- or rather, fighting Giselle's furious hair off as it tried to strangle him.

 

"We'll find the little chap and I know just the person to help"

 

With that, Bernard pulled out a small whistle and blew few could hear the high pitched screech but in the distance a patter of tiny feet was heard...

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle pulls out of Bernard's arms, wipes the back of her hand over her weeping nose, and shouts hysterically (and dramatically):

 

"Yes, we must track the thieving varmint to his nefarious lair! Worm stealer! Filthy thug! He shall pay, the worm, er, snake!"

 

Giselle pulls out her tissue and blows her nose.

 

*HONK!*

 

Ravenwind

Ravenwind had stayed well away from the hysterical mage, knowing all too well that the traditional slap across the face and "Pull yourself together!" command was NOT the course of wisdom with a magic user. Now that Giselle seemed more composed and vengeful than hysterical and weepy, she cleared her throat. "Raeython, point us along the right path; we are at your disposal."

 

Raeython gravely pointed out the door, smothering a smile.

 

"Thank you, kind sir," she replied. "Ever the helpful gentleman." She stalked out, followed by the remaining victims of the quickling's nimble fingers.

 

bernard the brave

"Look!" Bernard yelled as they left the Inn

 

A small but noticable trail of dust was approaching a some speed.

 

And there before them was the Moldovan Gerbil

 

"Eek" said the Gerbil

 

"EEEK EEEK!" responded Bernard

 

With that the Gerbil disappeared...

 

"What was that?" said Giselle

 

"He will guide - he knows many tiny comrades and will have the message out across the realm very quickly. If your belongings are to be found we have an ally in the Gerbil - I believe there is revenge to be had on his behalf also"

 

"We may see little of him (and when we do, we still see little) but he will guide and help whenever he can"

 

"Now lead on!" said Bernard leaping onto his horse dramatically and whipping it into action, before realising he was facing the wrong way.

 

Raeython

*Raeython turns to Palladium Muse and Ravenwind:*

 

"I hope you have everything you need, cause we're heading out."

 

*Raeython walks out the front door of the inn. He walks over to the horses, and pulls a red potion bottle out of one of is belt pouches. He walks over to the water trough, and empties all but the last little bit, to which he adds about half of his red potion. He then gently coaxes the horses to drink from the trough. Raeython then mounts up, waiting for Ravenwind and Palladium Muse. He turns towards them:*

 

"I would hang on if I were you."

 

*With that, his horse takes off like a shot heading west down the dirt road; leaving a trail of dust in his wake.*

 

Giselle Moonwitch

Giselle, in obvious distress, approaches the horse on its right side (wrong!) and attempts to mount the stomping beast. After a few confused and tearful attempts, the horse turns around, neighs, and gives Giselle a look of obvious disgust.

 

"Er, crickets!"

 

Giselle wiggles her fingers, and suddenly appears a few feet above the horse, and falls...

 

"Umph! OUCH! Thank the Gods I'm a woman!"

 

The stunned horse takes off at a gallop, chasing the stream of gerbil dust.

 

 Palladium Muse

The Muse looks at the beast with some misgiving, casting a baleful eye at the rapidly vanishing Raeython.

 

 "Horses," she grumbles. Then she fixes the beast with a stern look. "Okay, equine, we have a job to do, so you and your clan better just get along with me. It won't be for long, I can assure you of that."

 

Awkwardly, she tries to clamber up into the saddle, the horse sidling this way and that as she makes the attempt.

 

Finally, she sends a mail encased fist crashing down between its ears. "ENOUGH!" she roars. "There's a worm out there in danger! We have to help it!"

 

The horse bites her.

 

Muse laughs at the disgruntled look of surprise as teeth meet steel. Taking advantage of the animal's shock, she hauls herself into the saddle, and grabs the reins.

 

"Now, GO, you flea bitten carcass!"

 

The horse gives a little bounce, causing the Muse's teeth to rattle in her skull, before taking off at a full gallop.

 

"I-I-I kn-n-n-knew I sh-should have c-c-c-c-ast C-c-carpet of Adhes-s-sion!"

 

bernard the brave

 As the posse gallop off, Bernard cocks his head. Suddenly he turns to Giselle

 

"I must depart again but fear not I will return. A calling from the Gerbil already reaps reward and tis news I must follow alone."

 

Ravenwind

Waiting for the rest to mount up and get on their way, and to see if anyone else needed a hand mounting up, Ravenwind finally mounted up on her roan gelding, and lightly touched the horse's flanks with her heels. "Oughta call the ASPCA on all these folks," she muttered as the scenery blurred around her. Again, she shook her head. "What in Hades is the ASPCA?" she wondered.

 

END OF CHAPTER FOUR