Wolf

Copyright Pettryb

The eyes of the wolf pierced me as its fangs had just moments before. I was losing consciousness with those eerie eyes watching every moment, holding my sword in its mouth glowing blue from the energy I had stored in in just moments before. All around me I saw the swords of all of the other warriors fallen in this place before me. I have found for myself that the legend of the wolf was true. No one man can take on this creature to get to the place it protects. I was told that this was the only way to go to get there in time. I had to try, if I arrived late it would be worse than not arriving at all. The messenger had gotten to me late and had found me just waking in the local inn after a few days of rest. I recognized him immediately, a squire of my lord in the South. He told me that the king was dying and he had requested that I arrive at his side before he passed into the other world. Now I have failed him, my honor has been shattered. My soul would wander the earth forever in shame.

My eyes finally closed, the last thing I saw was the wolf approaching me once more. She planted the sword into the ground as I drew my last breath. All went black and for a moment I felt nothing, this must be the feeling of death. Then a strange feeling came from where my arm used to be. It felt like I was being pulled by a force of some sort, it was not painful but I felt myself getting lighter and soon it felt like I was floating. A ghostly voice inside of my head told me to open my eyes and as I did, to my horror I was floating above the field littered with swords. I was looking down at my own mangled body and sword whose energy was just fading. There were two wolves now, both looking at me, one black and one ghostly white. The dark one soon turned away and went back to it's vigil atop the mound surrounded by the swords warriors come and gone.

The white one was looking at me expectantly. The voice inside of my head spoke to me again. You have somewhere that you must go or your spirit will not be able to rest. The while wolf turned to face the east where I had been headed, the land of my Liege. It looked back at me expectantly as I took a step forward. With that single step I was beyond the mound and the wolf. One more and the black wolf was just a speck on the horizon. I started running, my steps taking me faster and faster to my destination. I could still make it in time!

I arrived at the castle, no one could see me but I paid my respects to the guards at the moat, I passed through the courtyard full of people, all who touched me shivered and looked around surprised for the reason. It was a hot summer day and it seems as they passed through me they felt the nip of what children called Jack Frost. I did not pause in the courtyard for long, I rushed up the stairs to my masters side, nearly giving the chambermaid a heart attack in the process as I passed right through her.

Now I stood at my masters side, the while wolf looking t me from the doorway. I paid it no heed, I watched as the Queen sat bent over her husband holding his hand tightly as his life slipped away. The princes who had been young boys not too long ago stood rigidly, trying to be strong for their mother and their sisters. The princesses sat opposite their mother, tears steaming freely down their fair faces.

I had my sword in my hand once again and all of my armor on as I looked on, standing in the spot left open for me. Armor clanged in the hallway and the princes looked out of the door expectantly, no doubt waiting for me but it was just a palace guard coming to inform them that I had not yet arrived.

Their faces dropped momentarily into sorrow, it had been one of their father's last requests to call me back for his last moments of life. An anguished wail came from the queen now and everyone looked at her. The hand of the king now limp in hers. The time had come and the king had passed. I dropped onto one knee at my post my head bowed. Then I heard his voice Old friend, bow not your head and rise, I ever glad to see you at my side. I did as I was told and looked up. There above the bed stood my master in ghostly while looking as he did ages ago when we fought side by side. I stood and looked at him amazed. He let out a deep laugh as he saw the confusion on my face. We must go now, there are others waiting.

With that he moved, leaning over to give his wife a gentle kiss on top of her head and then started climbing as if there were invisible stairs leading straight up from that spot. I turned and took one last look around the look and my eyes met those of the while wolf. It met my gaze and the voice in my head said Go noble warrior, your king awaits you. With that it disappeared and I began to climb into the sky, through the stone walls and wooden beams, following my liege through the clouds and into the heavens.

*Note* This image does not belong to me and came from Here

Road to Freedom?

Lyzzar sat in his cell, the darkness didn't bother him but the bonds holding his wrists together did. He had no way of getting out of his bonds, no matter how hard he tried. By now his wrists were raw from trying and try as he might he could not release any of his magic without the use of his hands. He had resigned himself to an uncomfortable sleep but even when he shut his eyes sleep was loathe to come. So he sat, waiting to see what happened to him next. It was apparent to him that this city had hatred toward the drow but he was not able to figure out now. All he knew was that with every minute he was held in captivity more of them would die at his hand.

He began contemplating how each would die, some would be bund alive, others would slowly be taken apart by his raven who was no doubt puzzled at the lack of his masters presence, trapped in his cloak in some chest, hopefully not suffocating. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He could feel the bird's presence. It was live at least, asleep and recovering from its encounter with that acid crab, he mused.

A beam of light appeared on the wall, the door as opening. Why had he not head the guard approaching, the brutes were loud enough to wake the dead. This had to be someone else, but who? Lyzzar moved to the corner of the cell, trying frantically to release his bonds. The beam of light on the wall got wider as the door opened silently and a shadow appeared on the wall. It was a small black shadow that moved silently. The beam of light disappeared as the door closed. The black cloaked figure approached Lyzzar. He raised his hands above his head, ready to do what he could to defend himself.

The cloaked figure moved closer and Lyzzar tensed up. An abrasive voice whispered from under its hood Come with me, don't ask questions, just know that I am here to free you, Lyzzar kept his hands in the air and said nothing. The figure moved, its hang going to its side and the gleam of a dagger could just be seen under the black cloth. The voice now said, Give me your hands, and let me free you. Lyzzar finally replied, Why should I trust you? The figure cast a quick glance at the door and hissed Shut up! If you are heard we will both be in over our heads. Just know that someone has hired me to free you and let me undo your bonds. 

Lyzzar looked at the creature in front of him, all parts of him covered save for the hands with rough skin and it seemed almost a yellowish orange color. He did not trust this creature one bit but what choice did he have. Lyzzar eyed the blade intently as he lowered his arms until they were within reach. He flinched as deft hands cut his bonds, expecting them to cut his throat as well. All the while thoughts raced through his head, had his companions hired such a person to rescue him? That was impossible; none of them would do that. The elf who loathed him and his race and the cleric whose only allegiance was the mead in the tavern. Those were all the companions he had left and they would not go so far as to spend their money on setting him free. For all he knew they had both parted ways, Poofus to the nearest keg and Skarlan anywhere else.

He was snapped out of his musings by another hiss from the figure that had by now moved to the door and was silently opening it. Get over here! Quietly! Lyzzar moved as quietly as he could, luckily bare feet make little noise. The door was open and soon he was out in the hallway and the other figure was closing the door. Just as he thought he was free the door made what seemed to be an impossibly loud screech. They both heard the guards go quiet. Go check that out. said one of them and the movement of chairs was followed by heavy footsteps in their direction. The black figure was gone in an instant, he had fled in the other direction without a second thought but Lyzzar knew that he could not be as quick or as silent as the rogue. He stood his ground and started muttering under his breath as the guard turned the corner. Just before he released his spell an arrow whizzed over his shoulder and stuck in the guards’ throat, he immediately sent three more bolts of magical energy at the guard, who was now as good as dead. Unfortunately his body made quite a racket as it fell to the stone ground. Metal plates had an unfortunate way of clanging quite loudly when they hit the ground with any force. Immediately they could hear the chairs move and worried voices get closer.

Lyzzar quickly stepped over the body while casting a disguise spell, his hands making the gestured and him muttering the words as quickly and accurately as he could. He took on the visage of the guard that had just been killed and picked up the sword from the man's scabbard just to complete appearances. He had no other choice from what he could see. The guards rounded the corner, facing Lyzzar immediately but they saw through his disguise even as he started to talk.

They exclaimed in surprise, seeing the body of their companion on the ground they let out an angry bellow and ran at him. Lyzzar was quicker though, in a flash he was by another door that he thought he heard someone in before. It was the one across from his cell. Quickly he used a spell to release the lock and swung the door open calling Fight for your freedom! and dropping the sword onto the ground. Before he knew what was happening an elf was standing in front of him crossing blades with the guard who was about to take a chop at Lyzzar. The elf's swordsmanship was almost unreal. It looked as if he were dancing with the blade and before Lyzzar could do anything one guard was on the ground bleeding from multiple wounds.

He felt the metal tip of an arrow dig into the flesh of his lower back and he yelped. Turning around but seeing no one. He would deal with that roguish backstabber later, he thought to himself as the words of a fireball spell came flooding out of his mouth, his finger pointing at the two remaining guards before him. Soon they would be reduced to ashes. The magical energy from within him erupted from his finger taking the form of a small orange sphere barely bigger than a finger. It flew past the elf's head, barely missing him and as it hit the first guard square in the chest it grew to engulf him fully. The ball continued to move while the man was still barely on his feet, white hot metal burning into his skin. He cried out in agony. Shit thought Lyzzar, This means more of them. He guided the fireball to the second guard as the elf dispatched of what remained of the second guard. The last guard watched in horror as the fireball came toward him, engulfing him fully as it did his comrade and the last thing Lyzzar saw before the guard was fully engulfed in flame were eyes full of terror and pain.

The body inside the fireball collapsed without another word, a silent scream could be seen on the lips of the now dead guard. The elf that had just been freed took the sword and turned. He stared at Lyzzar, an eternal enemy of the elves, but then ran right past him, spitting on the ground at the drow's feet as he passed. That was as much of a thank you as he could expect and about as much as he would have given if he had been in the same situation.

Lyzzar ran to where the guards had come from even as he heard the familiar hiss behind him Come here you idiot, you won't get out that way. He did not respond but kept running; he had to get his clothes, and his raven. He burst into the intersection of three hallways where the guards had left their food, drink and cards. There were three chests there as well, presumably to keep the prisoners belongings. He rushed to the first one and flung it open. A bastard sword and a loincloth must be the barbarian he had heard ranting earlier and snoring now. He rushed to the second chest, it was locked. Cursing under his breath he muttered the words to the spell that would unlock the chest even as he heard heavy footsteps and shouts from the floor above. He had no time. Relief briefly showed on his face, still disguised as a guard, as he grabbed his cloak and other equipment and ran back where his liberator had gone. He saw him peeking around the corner, holding his bow at the ready for anyone coming around the corner. An arrow whizzed by his head, apparently the cretin was not smart enough to recognize the disguise again. Luckily it had missed this time. He ran forward, dispelling his disguise to avoid any more arrows as he ran. He could hear the guards running down the stairs, their armor rattling loudly enough to wake the whole city, thought Lyzzar. He was counting on them not knowing which of the three hallways the guards had screamed from but that would hold them up for seconds at most.

As he rounded the corner he saw the black figure waving him on frantically. He was opening another cell door and Lyzzar's heart dropped. If this was a trap, the city now had him on the grounds of multiple murders. He ran on, not having any other choice but to trust the one who had cut his bonds and opened the cell. The orange skinned had was holding the door open for him as he turned to enter it, hesitating a moment until he saw that it was actually a tunnel and not a cell. That one moment was enough for the guards to emerge from around the corner. They both ran, as fast as they could, the door closed behind them, hoping the guards would not catch up. Fresh air soon tickled Lyzzar's nostrils as they approached the end of the tunnel. It seemed that he had been freed after all.

Liberator

Nosk had been given the task of freeing the drow from the prisons in the city of Forathon by a particularly foul-mouthed half-ork by the name of Kirbulb, and that is saying a lot since all of the half-orks he had encountered in the past had been gruff at best. The half-ork had given him the bare minimum of instructions. There was a drow in the dungeons by the north gate, there was a nearly unknown entrance which was outside of town and rarely guarded by more than one guard, and his mission was to free the drow, and take him to the village of Faire and bring him to Jonu.

The task seemed simple enough and the reward would keep him comfortable and well fed for a while. No need to worry about his next meal after this job, not for a while he thought, feeling the last few coins in his coin purse. He was behind a tree listening as the two guards talked. It was small talk, nothing important, one of them would be leaving soon and the other one would take the rest of the night on watch. Nosk was waiting for that guard to be alone again before moving.

The guards just kept talking, it seems that the two of them had been friends and hadn't seen each other for a while, Nosk was getting impatient; he didn't have all night. He wanted to be a quarter of the way to Faire with the drow by dawn. Finally they said their farewells and one guard left the clearing where there was an iron gate in the side of a small hill. Apparently this was one of the escape routes that were used by the lord if there was ever trouble in the city. Had that not been the case it would no longer exist, he thought.

Nosk waited until he was sure that the second guard was too far away to hear anything before he stealthily moved up behind the guard standing watch, leaning on his spear. Once he was close enough, Nosk reached up and covered the man’s mouth while his blade slit the man's throat. He waited until he was certain that the guard would not be able to make any noise before taking his hand off of the man's mouth. The guard had been a young man, barely 18 it looked like to him but Nosk no longer cared for such things, even the look of surprise, fear and pain that so often was in the eyes of his victims no longer bothered him. He had become a killer; no life was precious to him, other than his own of course. He dragged the body around the hill to a small thicket he had found and hit it there. It would be found in the morning he knew but by then he would be too far away for anyone to find him.

He hurried back to the iron gate, the key he had taken from the guard's body opened the lock easily and the door swung open with a creak. He looked around worriedly but nothing stirred. Soon he was down the dark hallway, moving as silently as he could to avoid detection. From what he knew, the route to the prison was simple from here only a turn or two. He followed the rough stone hewed hallway until it ended behind a cell door. He pushed on the cell door but it was locked, he took the keys that he had taken from the guard but none of the fit. He cursed under his breath as he reached for his lock picking kit. He crouched down by the lock and began to try to get the mechanism to allow him to pass, it took him a few minutes but soon the door was open and he was in another hallway lined with doors that looked almost identical to the one he just came out of. He shut the door but mad sure not to lock it and memorized any significant features that he could see.

From what he had gathered this part of the dungeon was barely used, he did not have to worry about the guards finding that the door was unlocked. He turned left from the door, knowing that this was the way to the cells that actually housed the prisoners. Soon he heard the voices of those he presumed were prison guards in the distance. He could tell that there was more than one voice and that they were talking quite loudly to each other. He moved more slowly now as he approached a corner. He looked down the hallway, peeking around the corner trying not to be seen. The hallway was empty except for a few burning torches and doors on either side. There was a table with some scrolls at the end of the hallway and he could hear the noise coming from farther around past the table.

Nosk crept down the hallway making sure that no one heard him. He arrived at the table and looked around, listening intently. Good, he thought, no one had noticed his arrival. His eyes swept over the pieces of parchment on the table in front of him, picking them up was not an option, too risky. One piece caught his eye. There were numbers on the sheet as well as names. He carefully pulled it out from under another paper and his eyes lit up. Prison Registry! he thought. He looked it over; there were many names on it, most of them crossed out. At the bottom he saw 4 names that were not crossed out. There was a half-ork, an elf, a halfling and a drow, cell B11. He looked the document over again to make sure. There was another drow name on it that seemed to be recent but it was crossed out. Must be the one over in cell B11.

Nosk crept away from the table, if he remembered correctly the cells he had just passed had the letter B on them. He approached the first door and examined it. He heard loud snoring coming from the other side, must be the orkish brute he thought. The door showed a faintly scratched B on it. He had been right, how lucky could he get, it was the hallway closest to the exit too. He could almost hear the coins jingling in his coin purse already. Smirking in the shadows he slunk down the hallway, looking at the number on each door until he reached B11. He looked around once more and listened. The guards sounded like they were having a grand old time to themselves so he pressed his ear to the door. There he could hear light breathing. Seems that the chart was right he thought as he reached into his cloak to grab his set of lock picks.

A Strange New Place

Finally, they were standing upon grass rather than that red stone which was all they were able to see these past few days. They looked around and to their relief, the daemon who they had pushed into the other portal was nowhere to be seen. They were covered in blood mingled with red dust. and their clothes were dotted with holes burned by the acids of hell.

Poofus sighed with relief, his massive bulk seeming to pull his shoulders down as a smile peeked out from under his scraggly red beard. "We made it boys! He said with a gleam in his eye, time to find somewhere to celebrate!" Scarlan looked at the jolly fat man and said "Well not everyone made it, the small green one died and we know not the fate of the monk, when we left him he was unconscious at the mouth of that ravine." "No matter my boy, luck had it that we escaped with our lives and I would drink to that at least!" replied Poofus. Scarlan snickered and retorted, "You would drink to anything wouldn't you Poofus, as long as you were able."

He then looked around, there was a large town surrounded by thick walls that looked like about half a days walk away and around them there were farms of all different kinds that would no doubt provide the food for the town. They realized that they had been standing in the middle of a pasture and the cows were staring at them.

Lyzzar put up the hood of his cloak to make sure his face was covered, then he said to his companions, let us ask the good Dwarven farmer whose land we have landed on. He gestured to the farmer heading out to tend his cows after the midmorning meal. He looked like a typical farmer, stout, with a well weathered face and  gruff expression. An expression of curiosity crossed his face as he spotted the figures moving toward him but it was soon replaced with one of worry as he saw the state of the travelers, covered in blood and red dust.

Lyzzar hailed him when they were close enough to talk at a reasonable volume. The farmer responded in kind and cautiously welcomed them. Lyzzar began talking to the dwarf, making him feel comfortable to get some information about the town itself from him. They learned that the town was called Forathon and it was ruled by Lord Halthron and had ben ruled by the Halthron family for generations. There was also a dwarven city close by with which the city of Forathon traded often. Many wares were traded between the to cities to their mutual benefit. Lyzzar thanked the dwarf and decided to give him a few pieces of gold. Lyzzar ached out his hand and as the dwarf looked down to take the gift, his eyes widened and he snatched the gold out of Lyzzar's gray skinned hand and hurried off to tend his herd, never looking back and not saying a word.

The abrupt change in the dwarf's disposition took everyone aback, drow were mistrusted and even hated in many places but to get that kind of a reaction, there must have been something wrong. The dwarf had mentioned that there was an inn closer to town where they might be able to find food and lodging for the night outside of the gates of the town which closed at dark.

They decided to go to the inn, it seemed the best course of action until they could find out a bit more about the town they were heading to and possibly why the drow had gotten such a reaction. As they neared the town, Lyzzar ducked behind a tree and chanted a spell quickly, moving his hands quickly and when he emerged he looked like a plump middle aged trader, one you might see in any tavern, "It's better to be safe than sorry." he stated bluntly as he led the way to the tavern.

It was barely mid day by the time they arrived at the tavern and as they entered they found it nearly empty. The only patrons were a disgruntled looking man sitting at a table in the corner along with four empty tankards and a man wearing a chain shirt and a sword who sat at the bar silently pondering the ale in front of him. Lyzzar, who looked like a jolly trader approached the bar and the other three followed him, there were not enough seats for all three of them so Poofus took his halfling friend and sat down at the table while Lyzzar and Scarlan sat at the bar. They each ordered ale and were glad for some good drink for a change, and even the sight of people in such a normal setting helped them relax just a bit after their short yet eventful romp in Hell.

Lyzzar decided to strike up conversation with the man sitting next to him. As it turns out the man is a town guard who was just finishing a shift and came in for a drink before going back to his small house outside of the town. He and Lyzzar talked about the city, the dwarves and if there were any problems in the city currently. The guard talked about some minor things and some rumors of problems from the dwarven city to the south but he didn't know anything specific. Lyzzar risked a question about the drow but the guard seemed to know nothing more than the very basic information about the drow, he was a guard at the gates of the treasury, he wasn't given much more information other than who was allowed in and out of the building. He soon packed up and left for home after finishing a drink with Lyzzar with a toast to the Halthron family.

Lyzzar and Scarlan came back to the bard and Poofus who were happily drunk by this time. It was time to go to the city, there they would stay the night. They approached the city in mid afternoon. Two guards blocked their way. "Who goes there, show your faces!" they commanded. Lyzzar's disguise has]d worn off by this time but he had his face covered by his cloak and gloves on his hands that he bought from the innkeeper feigning an illness. The others revealed themselves but the guards would not let Lyzzar pass.

Lyzzar, now regretting the decision not to disguise himself once more reached into his coin purse and produced 50 gold coins, and offered them to the guards in exchange for passage. They wavered in their conviction but did not budge. Lyzzar added another 50 to the pile and one of the guards reached for the gold. The other one was quicker however. He used his spear to flip Lyzzar's hood up revealing the dark skin, white hair, and pointy ears that were the unmistakable mark of the drow. The guard who had reached for the gold jumped back in surprise and exclaimed: "Drow!" Before nyone could react one guard was already stranding next to Lyzzar grabbing at his arms and from behind the gate two more guards had appeared and were running toward Lyzzar with spears pointed at him. Within moments the guards had caught Lyzzar and tied him up and were dragging him away, presumably to the city dungeon. Scarlan tried to stop one of the guards to ask him what was wrong but the only answer he got was a "Watch yourself, half-elf, we have no quarrel with you, only the drow."

With that the guards allowed them to pass while their companion was dragged down a side street, presumably to a prison. The other three could do nothing about it today for sure, especially not without arousing even more suspicion than they already did traveling with a drow. Scarlan was sure that their descriptions would be on the watch list by the next morning so it was better to keep a low profile.

The three of them headed to the Drunken Pony tavern and inn where they spent the night, Scarlan pondering the fate of their companion and the events of the past few days while the bard and Poofus drowned out those memories with copious quantities of mead.