Karnak the Killer

Chapter 3 - The Tower of the Magi

Karnak was disappointed. They had been escorted quickly through the tower with barely a chance to see anything beyond brief glimpses of the building’s impressive architecture and into this non-descript room with a single window. He stood, squeezed between Aardaal and Carrick, in one corner of the small room. Juniper dressed in her Elementalist’s robes, with her staff held in one hand stood before them on one side of a small plain table.

On the other side sat three old men, all mages. Although of which exact discipline, Karnak could not tell. They were explaining the rules of the initiation to Juniper. She would have one full day to complete the task. She could take as many companions with her as she wanted, although they would face the same dangers as she did and would need to sign a waiver that they accepted these risks of their own free will.

With the paperwork out of the way they were led down narrow twisting steps to a dusty cellar under the Tower. With a few formal words, a young apprentice presented Juniper with a necklace containing four different coloured gemstones, then pulled a lever and a section of the wall slid back. The four entered cautiously and the panel slid back into place behind them.

The hallway ahead of them was dimly lit with fading light quartzes. The walls and floor were bare stone and the passage was just wide and high enough for Carrick to pass through. The only feature was a large rune on the floor halfway along the corridor. As they approached the rune, one of the gems on the necklace flared into life, giving off a faint red glow.

“This is the symbol for fire” explained Juniper to the others.

As they approached the end of the corridor, they could see another fire rune on the wall, which slid aside revealing a four-way junction. At the centre of the junction was another rune. As they entered, the door with the fire rune slid silently back into place behind them.

“This one is water.” confirmed Juniper as the blue gem on her necklace flared into life. The walls of the other passages also showed runes and Juniper pointed them out for the others.

“Fire behind us, water to the left, air straight ahead and earth to the right.”

“Only fire and water are glowing on the necklace” said Karnak, thinking out loud. “We came through fire, so I guess that means we go through water.”

Juniper approached the door with the water rune and indeed it slid back into the wall. Ahead lay another corridor similar to the first. The rune in the middle of this one was the symbol for earth.

“Mayhap, we simply need to activate all four gemstones to complete the trial”, suggested Aardaal.

“I hope it is as simple as that”, muttered Juniper with a frown. “But I fear it may be more complex. And more dangerous.”

The third gem, an emerald began to glow with an green light as they passed the symbol for earth. With three gemstones glowing they had high hopes of finishing the trial quickly. But the next junction contained the symbol for water and as they entered it, the light faded from the blue gem.

Over the next hour, the four explored several corridors and junctions, often backtracking to activate one or more of the gems. They made slow progress through the maze until they realised they were in danger of having no gems active.

“What happens if they all go out?” asked Karnak.

“I suppose we fail the trial.” rumbled Carrick.

“You mean we will be stuck here forever? Won‘t they let us out?” demanded Aardaal.

Juniper gulped as the true danger of the trial became apparent, “I-I don’t think so.”

With their lives on the line, the party took a moment to consider their options. Karnak had picked up some fish pies on the way to the tower that morning and offered the still warm pastries around. Carrick had mapped out the maze on a piece of parchment and they studied it carefully, while they munched on the pies.

“There must be a solution,” muttered Juniper, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Karnak picked at his tusks, deep in thought. He looked carefully up and down the bare corridor.

“Maybe we missed something” he grunted as his eye caught what looked like the outline of a doorway on the opposite wall.

“A hidden passage”, declared Aardaal. “Carrick help me open it.”

The obsidiman pushed at the wall where Aardaal indicated and a section of the wall twisted open.

Aardaal slipped through the opening. Beyond was a large dimly-lit room. He could hear water lapping against stone and a damp, musty smell assailed his nostrils. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see a narrow strip of stone leading across the room to the far wall, black water on either side.

However, more worrying was the hunched figure in the middle of stone walkway. Its head cocked up as he entered, sniffing at the air like some beast. Studying the figure, Aardaal could now see that’s the creatures eyes were sewn shut and it’s arms ended not in hands but short, broad blades.

Back at the entrance, Carrick gulped. He was more concerned by the dark water on either side of the narrow walkway, than the creature on it. Obsidimen could not swim.

Aardaal edged cautiously out along the walkway towards the creature. As he got closer, he could see that it was tethered to the middle of the walkway by a chain. The creature hissed and lunged at him, only to be pulled up short.

Aardaal dropped into a crouch and edged closer. When the creature lunged again, he waited until the chain pulled it to a halt then slashed at it with his father’s sword. The beast howled in rage. It thrashed against it’s tether and to the shock of the four adventurers, ripped the chain clean from the floor. It immediately charged at Aardaal in a blind rage, but the sword master kept his cool. As it reached him, he twisted to the side and gave it a gentle push that took it off the side of the walkway and into the dark water with a loud splash.

The water settled and of the creature there was no sign. The four edged carefully across the walkway to the other side, the obsidiman on his hands and knees. With some pushing at the wall they managed to open another concealed doorway that took them back into one of the corridors they had previously traversed. This gave them some additional possibilities for changing which gems were lit. While Carrick waited, for he was not keen to cross the walkway more than necessary, the rest of the party moved back and forth between the passages and corridors until they had the right combination of gems activated to move deeper into the maze.

They returned to water room and called out for Carrick to join them. As the obsidiman stepped onto the walkway, Aardaal‘s keen eyes spotted a movement. The creature they had thought dead, was climbing out of the water and up the wall at the obsidiman’s feet.

“Carrick, ware! The creature is still alive.”

Carrick backed out of the room, setting his shield and drawing his heavy spiked mace. Dripping with water, the pale cadaver crawled onto the walkway. It sniffed at the air and turned towards Aardaal at the other end of the walkway. Spotting his chance, Carrick smacked it on the head with a bone crushing blow. The creature roared as the obsidiman’s blow crushed the back of its skull, then turned and lashed at him with a frenzy of blows.

‘Too fast’ were Carrick’s last thoughts as the beast’s blows stung his flesh. A normal man would have been flayed alive, but his training allowed him to parry some of the blows and his thick skin absorbed the worst of the others. Still the pain and shock were overwhelming and he sank to his knees and toppled sideways.

Juniper’s earth dart hit the creature in the back and it spun towards the others. Aardaal and Karnak were already edging out onto the walkway. Aardaal had his sword at the ready and Karnak followed banging his sword on his shield and shouting, “Hey, blind and ugly. Over here.”

The creature charged again. Aardaal set his footing and drove his blade hard into it’s chest as it reached him. There was a squirt of liquid from a pouch sewn into it’s chest and it stopped with a croak, then tumbled slowly into the water. They rushed to the other side and checked on the fallen obsidiman.

“Still breathing,” sighed Juniper. “His wounds are not deep. He will live.”

While Juniper patched him up, the two men watched the water for signs of movement. This time the creature did not resurface. They rested for what seemed like hours, but could not tell for sure. Then, with a soft moan, Carrick’s eyes flickered open.

“Welcome back my friend,” grinned Karnak. They helped the obsidiman back to his feet and proceeded slowly onwards.

However, they had no sooner gone past the next junction when they realised that they could again go no further without being trapped. While Juniper and Carrick studied the obsidiman’s map, Karnak and Aardaal checked the walls for concealed doors.

“Here” announced Aardaal and Carrick pushed at the wall where he indicated. A cold mist billowed from the hidden room as the door swung open. Karnak and Aardaal slipped inside. The room seemed to soak up the light from quartzes in the hall, so even with their sensitive eyes, they could only see a few paces into the room.

“I like this not” uttered Karnak. They edged across the room, but could see no doorway in the opposite wall. Then Karnak shivered at a cold touch on his shoulder. Spinning around he could see nothing. “There is something in here.”

The two hurried back to the door and Carrick pushed it closed behind them.

“No way out that way,” wheezed Karnak, his heart pounding more from fright than exertion.

The group huddled together in silence, while Juniper studied Carrick's map. Quite some time later, she finally looked up. “I believe I have the solution." She explained the sequence of corridors and junctions they needed to follow to activate the gems to get them through the next door.

“The only problem is that once we go through it, we will be unable to return.”

The group was silent for a moment. Aardaal stood statue-still, Carrick seemed lost in thought and Karnak picked nervously at his tusks.

“Well, we can sit here and die or go on. I vote we go on.” he offered at last. One by one, the others nodded.

Juniper walked the planned route and came back to them with the required gems lit. They stepped into the junction and the ruby dulled, leaving only the sapphire representing air lit. She approached the door with the air symbol and it slid aside revealing a set of stairs leading upwards. Behind her, the three men breathed out a collective sigh of relief.

At the top of the stairs, the same young novice who had let them into the maze was sitting at small reading desk. He looked up from the heavy book he was poring over and raised an eyebrow.

“We were on the verge of giving up on you. Initiates normally complete it within the first couple of hours or not at all.”

“And what happens to those who don’t make it in the allotted time,” questioned Karnak.

The novice shrugged and nodded towards the injured Carrick. “Looks like you already found out.”

Closing his book, the novice stood up from the desk and escorted them back to the room where they had first met the Tower’s mages.

They waited for about an hour before the mages assembled. Karnak yawned realising that it was approaching dawn and that the novice was probably rousing the mages from their beds. Once they finally arrived, they sat conversing in hushed whispers amongst themselves for a few minutes before the eldest turned to them and addressed Juniper.

“Juniper Elderberry”, he intoned. “You have successfully completed the trial of elements. We welcome you as a novice of the Tower.

Nodding towards the necklace she still wore, he continued, “Your token of completion will allow you access to the tower at any time. You may freely use the library, but for now the rest of the tower is off limits. For your own safety, of course.”

Juniper nodded. She was glowing with pride and could barely contain her excitement. When the old mages finally shuffled out of the room, she jumped up and hugged first Carrick then Aardaal and finally Karnak.

“Thank you,” she gushed. “This means everything to me.”

“Carrick deserves most of the credit”, laughed Karnak. “He took on that creature on his own and has the bumps to show for it.”

Carrick nodded, rubbing at his bandaged arm.

Karnak the Killer

Chapter 2 - The trouble with Elves

Karnak arrived at the market early. Too early. The sun was just creeping over the roof of the merchant’s guild building on the East of the main market square, casting long shadows over the teamsters unhitching horses and leading them away to the stables of the nearby inns.

Merchants were only just starting to set up there canvas tents; here a spice merchant, there a silk trader. Unfortunately they were not selling yet. Karnak ground his teeth and approached one of the merchants, a trader in arms and armor.

“Good day, sir,” he smiled. “I was hoping to purchase a new sword but I see you are late in setting up today. Trouble on the road?”

Short, even for a dwarf, the merchant looked up at Karnak with a snort that was half frustration and half laughter.

“No troubles my tall friend,” grinned the dwarf. “At least none beyond getting a pile of rocks twice your height moving of a morning.”

The merchant nodded towards the north end of the market and Karnak’s eyes went wide as he spotted the tall figure of an obsidiman. At least a head taller than Karnak, the large figure was standing in the middle of the thoroughfare, its head swinging slowly left and right, taking in the all the sound and chaos of the merchants as they rushed around setting up their stalls.

“Now that is something you don’t see every day.” said Karnak, a glint in his eye. “If you will excuse me, sir, I will return later in the day to examine your wares.”

Without waiting for the dwarf’s response, Karnak set off at a brisk pace towards the obsidiman.

“Good morrow, stone brother,” called Karnak as he stepped up to large slate coloured individual. The obsidiman was an impressive figure, His dark skin rippled with strength and was covered with living bark armour. A massive shield was strapped to his left arm and at his waist hung a massive spiked mace.

“Hello friend ork,” rumbled the large figure, its gaze settling on Karnak.

Before Karnak could say another word, a slim figure appeared from behind the Obsidiman. “Another beggar, Carrick?”

Karnak gave an involuntary hiss as he spotted the long pointed ears of an elf. Although on a further look, the ears belonged to a rather pretty young elf girl with long purple hair and emerald green eyes. From her simple attire and the spiky fernweave armor she wore, she certainly wasn’t from Riddleport.

Recovering quickly, Karnak put on his best smile and launched into his spiel.

“Milady, I did not see you there behind your large friend. I am no beggar as you can see. I am but a humble citizen of this fine city. I can direct you to merchants that offer the finest of goods at the fairest of prices, inns serving the best food and ale, and with beds free of bugs. All my knowledge of what this city has to offer is yours for the cost of only a few silver pieces. So, how can I be of help to you?”

The obsidiman seemed on the point of answering, but the elf answered first.

“We are going to the Tower of the Magi. And we already have directions, so thank you for your kind offer but your assistance is not required. Come, Carrick. Let us be on our way.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and with the Obsidian lumbering after her headed off in exactly the opposite direction to the Tower.

Karnak shrugged and after spending a few more minutes circling the market to check out what the various merchants had on offer, he swung past a local fish merchant and picked up a still warm eel pie. With a tune on his lips and his mouth full of eel pie he ambled off in the direction of the Fool’s market.

---

When he arrived at the Fool’s market, Karnak was surprised to spot a pair of familiar figures.

“Stone brother, milady elf. Was your visit to the Mage‘s Tower a success?”

“We have still to make our way there,” snapped Juniper.

“Well, should you need my assistance you can usually find me in the Sea Serpent of an evening. Although it is not one of the places I would normally recommend for such as you.”

“I thought there would be more people,” interrupted Carrick suddenly.

Karnak looked around, the hairs on his neck rising as he realised they were alone in the square. By this hour, it should be filling up with hawkers, con-artists, snake oil salesmen and other disreputable traders. But the square was empty, not even a city guard to be seen.

“Trouble.” muttered Karnak, unstrapping his shield and loosening his sword in its scabbard. “I hope you can use that mace my stone friend. And milady, do you have any magics that can help us?”

“Well I…but not in my matrices. I would need to…” stammered Juniper.

“Then do it” grunted Karnak.

---

Aardaal was really worried now. He had been forced to change direction three times since leaving home. Every route he had taken towards Qet’chiqan’s house had been blocked by gutter thugs. He had spotted the first two easily, too easily he now suspected.

The second pair had been lurking in a narrow alley and he had only spotted them at the last moment when he caught a reflection off a drawn blade. The third pair had simply been standing in the middle of the road, clearly waiting for him.

All six of them were following him now. He realised they were herding him and needed to lose them. He hoped that cutting through the Fool’s Market would give him that chance. But as he turned into the square, he realised this was exactly where they wanted him. Apart from an unusual trio of an elf, dwarf and an Obsidiman, the square was empty.

Aardaal hesitated only an instant then headed towards the threesome. The goons following were mainly local thugs. It seemed unlikely that these three were in league with them. He was halfway across the square to them when he caught a movement from the corner of his eye.

Another two goons stepped out from an alley. The first was a large ork, the second a weasel-faced human holding a loaded crossbow. Aardaal hissed out his breath. Behind him, he could hear heavy footfalls as the other six goons entered the square. He closed his eyes for a second to focus his thoughts and then with brisk effective movements, drew his dagger and charged towards the two goons.

It almost worked. The human loosed the crossbow in surprise, the shot going wide. Then Aardaal performed a forward handspring that took him clean over the head of the human. But he landed slightly off-balance and the ork was quicker than he looked. He swung a heavy club at Aardaal’s head. Aardaal twisted, avoiding getting his skull crushed, but the club clipped the side of the head and he tumbled to the ground.

‘Passions‘ thought Karnak. ‘Why is it always elves?’

Clearing his throat, he took a step towards the goons. One of them was a large gap-toothed ork with silver capped tusks.

“Hoi tusker,” called Karnak. “You been hanging around these breeders so long you need six to one odds to take down one scrawny elf?”

The big ork turned with a grunt, “Hey, dey are wit him. Get em too!” The cap-toothed ork and three of the other goons turned away from the elf and started moving towards Karnak.

Karnak drew his sword and prepared to fight. But before he could act, Carrick moved. The Obsidiman seemed to glide across the ground at a pace much faster than Karnak believed such a large humanoid could move.

Carrick braced his heavy full shield as he charged the lead ork. There was a crunch as the two collided. Carrick stopped, but the ork was flung back several feet and landed on his back unconscious.

Then the other three were on them. Blades clashed as they thrust and parried. Karnak drove his blade towards one of the thugs but overextended. As he tried to recover, the thug thrust his shortsword into his side finding a weak spot in his armor. Karnak tumbled to the ground with a groan, feeling hot blood running down his side.

Behind him, Juniper yelped as one of the other thug’s blades nicked her arm. She focused through the pain and drew together the threads of her spell. The earth at her feet writhed and a dart of stone surged up, slicing open the face of the thug attacking her.

Aaardaal flipped back up to his feet and shook his head. The big ork grinned and swung his club back and forth in lazy arcs. Aardaal feinted then thrust, his dagger scraping the ork’s armor but failing to penetrate. The ork grunted and took a wide swing, which Aardaal easily dodged. Aardaal’s blade darted forward again scoring another hit but again failing to do any real damage.

Carrick turned his attention to the thug standing over Karnak. His spiked mace crashed into the thug’s side knocking the breath out of him and forcing him back several steps, allowing Karnak to get back on his feet.

Seeing the carnage that the Obsidiman was wreaking, Aardaal performed another flip ending up near the flat out ork. He scooped up the ork’s shortsword and tumbled forward, slicing one of the other grunts as he passed. Together the four quickly dispatched the remaining thugs, but not before one of them scored another hit on Karnak.

“My thanks”, whispered Aardaal. “But perhaps it would be best if you accompany me to my destination. It is not far from here.”

“He needs urgent care” said Juniper kneeling next to the bleeding Karnak.

With a smooth motion, Carrick scooped up the bleeding ork despite his feeble protestations. They crossed the Fool’s market and entered the King’s Way. After a few minutes hurrying along the street, they turned down a short alley and Aaardaal knocked at a heavy wooden door.

After a brief wait, the door opened. A look of relief came over the craggy face of a worried-looking obsidiman, which immediately turned to concern when it spotted the bleeding ork.

“Bring him in. Quick.” rumbled the obsidiman. The four hustled through the door and the obsidiman closed and barred it behind them. He led them across a tidy courtyard and up a sturdy wooden staircase to a narrow balcony.

“Put him in here” directed the Obsidiman. “I will fetch water and medicines.”

Carrick eased Karnak down onto the bed and helped him out of his armor. Underneath, his fine shirt was stained with blood.

“Give me room, Carrick” ordered Juniper pushing the obsidiman out of the way. She cut away Karnak’s shirt and wadded up the bloody rags into a compress to stop the bleeding. Qet’chiqan returned with water and bandages. She cleaned the ork’s wounds, sewed the cuts and bandaged him up. Throughout it all the big ork made no complaints, beyond an occasional hiss of pain through gritted teeth. When she was finished, he looked deep into her emerald eyes and whispered a soft thank you.

Juniper felt her cheeks colour. “No thanks necessary. But perhaps you should be more careful about whom you pick fights with in the future.”

Karnak gave a weak grin at that. ‘Elves’ he thought to himself. ‘Nothing but trouble.’

---

Fortunately no-one else had more than minor cuts and bruises. Still Juniper made sure that everyone’s injuries were properly cleaned and bandaged, including her own. The group then spent the next few days at Qet’chiqan’s house while Karnak recovered from his wounds. In any case, Qet’chiqan warned them that it would be unwise to leave the house until he was able to find out why the thugs had attacked Aardaal.

Aardaal and Carrick spent most of their time practising with their weapons and sparring in the courtyard. The package that Aardaal had brought to Qet’chiqan had turned out to be his father’s swords, which had only made him even more concerned. Qet’chiqan had given the blades back to Aardaal, saying that he should have them. The obsidiman also seemed worried by the blades.

The news, when it came, hit Aardaal like a hammer blow. His home had been burned to the ground. Neither of his parents had escaped the flames. Qet’chiqan could not stop him from visiting the burned out remains, but both obsidimen went with him to keep him safe. The house was a charred ruin. The roof timbers had given way and all that was left was charred wood and cracked tiles. The houses on either side were also badly damaged but the fire had been contained from spreading further. Aardaal stood there rigid for a long time, with silent tears running down his face until Qet’chiqan led him away.

Aardaal retired to his room and spent the next days coming to terms with his loss. Karnak recovered quickly, helped by Juniper’s chirurgery skill and a healing potion from Qet’chiqan. He was soon able to sit up and asked for his lute. He strummed lightly on the chords and hummed a few tunes. Juniper and Qet‘chiqan told him about Aardaal’s parents fate and Qet’chiqan gave him a small bag of silver coins for saving Aardaal from his attackers.

Juniper spent most of her time talking with plants in Qet’chiqan’s garden. The obsidiman took good care of them, for the most part. But he could not talk to the plants, so there were a few plants that needed some extra care.

After a few days, Qet’chiqan told them it should be safe to leave his home again. Carrick escorted Juniper to the Tower of the Magi. This time, with directions from the obsidiman, they reached their destination quickly.

The mages at the tower were a snooty bunch. They informed her she needed to take a test of initiation before they would allow her access to the tower’s library and teachings. She was permitted assistance from her companions, as the trial could be dangerous, they warned. But should they succeed, only she would gain access to the tower’s facilities. She explained this to the others when she returned to Qet’chiqan’s house.

Aardaal spoke first, “I owe you my life, you have my blade.”

Karnak gave her a broad grin. “And you tended my wounds. Plus it is not every day that one gets a chance to see inside the mages tower. So I would have come with you regardless.”

“They said it could be dangerous,” repeated Juniper.

“Then all the more reason for us to come with you,” rumbled Carrick. The others nodded in assent.

Karnak the Killer

Riddleport Blues
Karnak sighed, blowing air out through his tusks. Being a musician in Riddleport was tough. Being an ork musician, doubly so. Most taverns simply turned him away, leaving only the dives down by the docks that tailored to the manual laborers who worked long back-breaking hours for a few coppers.

More worrisome was that most of the workers in the Basking Shark seemed more interested in their ales than in his tunes. Even the bawdier songs that he had learned as a youth in taverns just like this had provoked little response. It seemed that the strange haze that had muted the sun’s rays for the last few days had put a damper on everyone’s mood.

‘One last try’ thought Karnak to himself, plucking softly at the strings of his lute. He launched into an old ballad, one of love and betrayal, of revenge and loss. He drew deeply on his own experiences; his deep bass voice filling the tavern with such anguish and woe that even the most drunken of patrons lifted their heads to listen.

When he finished, there was but a moment of silence. Then tearful patrons began cheering and banging their dented tankards on the scratched and worn wooden tables. He even spied one of the barmaids clapping loudly, her eyes damp but a broad smile on her face. She had that worn beauty that comes from a hard life as a tavern wench. He gave her a saucy wink and was rewarded with a blush and a wry grin.

The audience was his, and when they quieted down he began his tale.

“Once upon a time there was a brave, yet foolhardy young man. One day while out walking he came across an elven gentleman. The gent was having a disagreement with two particularly burly orkish dockworkers. The disagreement eventually came to blows, but the elven gent was clearly no match for the two angry dockworkers. So, without a thought to the consequences young man stepped in to help him.

“Together, they managed to overcome the orks, who fled to nearest tavern to lick their wounds and drown their sorrows. The elf was grateful to the young man. A bard and historian, he had little coin to spare, but he offered to teach the young man what he knew as payment instead. The young man agreed and for the next year, the elf was true to his word.

“He taught the young man how to sing and play the lute. He taught him about the history of Barsaive and of the mighty weapons used by its heroes. He even taught him his own language, Sperethiel, the tongue of the elves. The young man drank in all that knowledge like a fine wine. He dreamed of one day being one of those heroes of lore, of wielding one of those mighty weapons.

“Then one day, the elf came to the young man distraught. He had been employed by Boss Kroat, a powerful ork and not one to be crossed, to discover the history of a particular weapon. However, it seemed that the weapon was a fake and the elf feared what would happen when Boss Kroat found out. He asked the young man to speak to Boss Kroat on his behalf.

“While the young man was also afeared of Boss Kroat, he agreed to the task for he now felt indebted to the elf for all he had taught him. He took the weapon back to Boss Kroat and explained that it was a fake. Boss Kroat was angry. He claimed that the weapon the young man had returned was not the one he had given to the elf. He accused the young man of trying to steal his magical weapon and did beat him sorely.

“The young man lay abed many a day recovering from his injuries. In all that time the elf never once came to see him. When he was again well enough to leave his bed, he went to inn where the elf had been staying, but he was long gone. All that the young man had left was a few scars and debts, broken dreams and a worn lute. And that is the truth.”

Karnak bowed his head as he finished the tale. A few of the patrons banged their tankards again, but most only muttered back, “And that is the truth.”

Karnak passed amongst them with his cup and even though they earned little, most of the patrons added a copper or two to his cup. He then found a space at the end of a table and waited until he caught the eye of the pretty barmaid. She swayed over to him with a practiced grace and leaned forward giving him a good view of heavy breasts straining against her low cut bodice.

“Might that young man have been yourself?” she asked with a sultry voice, filled with smoke and promise.

Karnak raised an eyebrow. “Both wise and beautiful,” he quipped. “Might I have a tankard of your finest ale and a room for the night?”

“Our finest ale is watered piss and all our rooms are full,” she laughed. “But for three silver pieces, you can share my bed. Just as long as you don’t try to take advantage of me while I sleep.”

“And what if I am unable to resist your womanly wiles, my lady?” he asked.

She smiled again and he found that he liked her smile. “Well then, that would cost you an extra five silvers.”

***

Carrick stood up to his knees in the stream, contemplating the texture of the cold water as it flowed past his legs. For the last three days of their journey the weather had been pleasant, with clear skies and no rain. So, although the air was still cool in the first light of dawn, he knew it would become warmer as the sun rose higher.

He became aware of a melodic voice calling his name and opened his eyes to see Juniper coming down the hill towards him. She was lithe and tall, like most elves, with long violet hair that hung in twin braids down her back and sparkling eyes the colour of emeralds.

“The caravan is ready to leave,” she scolded. “Everyone is waiting for you.”

Slowly, Carrick plodded out of the stream. Standing next to the young elf girl, he was more than a head taller than her. And he was perhaps three times as broad. His dark muscled skin was the texture of slate, covered with the dark brown of his living bark armour. Juniper had told him that when she had first seen him, she thought he must be an earth elemental. He had found that amusing, the first time he had felt that particular emotion.

“It will be warm again today and it has been several days since I had an opportunity to tend to my armour,” he explained. “It was beginning to look rather wilted.”

Juniper leaned close to him, examing the living bark. She made a few complex gestures and muttered under her breath.

“Well, it’s fine now,” she said after a moment. “It has drunk enough to last a few days at least and we will be in Riddleport in just a few hours.”

“Did your magic tell you that,” asked Carrick, intrigued by the young elementalist’s ability.

“No, silly,” she laughed in reply. “Your armor told me. The spell just let me talk to it.”

***

Aardel’s father was worried. And that worried Aardel. His father was a blademaster, an adept skilled in the art of combat. So what could possibly worry him?

“Son,” said his father. “I need you to deliver a package. It is rather urgent, so you will need to leave as soon as you finish your breakfast.”

“What is it?” asked Aardel, his mind still focused on what was worrying his father.

His father gave a weak smile. “It’s for Qet’chiqan. And the contents are for his eyes only, so I don’t want you sneaking a look. Now finish your breakfast, while I go and get it ready.”

The package was large and rather heavy. His father had fashioned a sling so Aardel could carry it over his shoulder, leaving his hands free. As he left, Aardel tried one last time to find out what was worrying his father, but the older elf just frowned impatiently.

“The only thing that’s bothering me is that Qet’chiqan is waiting for that package, while you dither around here asking foolish questions. Now get going and keep your wits about you.”

Riddleport was still quiet at this early hour. Aardel passed only a few people as he strode purposefully across town. Qet’chiqan lived on the other end of the town and it was going to take Aardel the best part of an hour to get there.

He set a brisk pace. Tall and lean, Aardel was all angles and sharp features. His long legs, toned from weapon practice with his father, covered the ground quickly. While the day looked like it was going to be fine and sunny, his father’s nervousness had infected him, and he kept a wary eye around him as he walked.

And lucky for him that he did. For as he crossed a quiet square, he noticed a couple of rough-looking humans loitering at the entrance to street he needed to go down. They also spotted him, and with a nod to each other started towards him.

Aardel changed direction and picked up his pace, trying not to be too obvious about it. He quickly thought out an alternative route in his head, while checking if the two men were following him. They were. So, as he turned the next corner, he also surreptitiously checked the dagger at his waist, loosening it in its hilt.