Dead War Unfinished Part Two

Toxyn nodded, “Though not without a couple of bumps along the way. Not the least of which was Arkayne turning on the group and stealing the stone. He intended to use it for his own nefarious schemes and the Dragons, with Joanna acting as their resident mage, went after him. That was when they learned about Atlas.”

Tasha frowned, cocking her head to the side. “Atlas? I’m not familiar with that part.”

“No reason you should be. It’s a part of the legend of the stone that’s been kept quiet for centuries. Atlas was the protector of the Necrostone, he senses it’s presence when it is not kept concealed from him and goes in search of it. He was programmed long ago to believe that the stone belonged only with his master, the very mage that created the stone… Necromidian, the creator of our worlds school of necromancy.” He paused, took a breath, and continued. “Anyway, before they could wrest the stone from Arkayne, the Dragons had to contend with Atlas, which they barely managed to do. It was the Lady Joanna who discovered what his weakness was and thwarted him, though the journal didn’t go into details about what that weakness was. Suffice to say, Atlas and Arkayne were both defeated, though the latter escaped… and the Necrostone was brought to Hanover.”

“If you knew the Dark Vault was here, why did you need Scavenger to impersonate poor Jev?” Tasha asked. Her heart was aching for the young acolyte, who had shown great promise according to her father.

Toxyn shrugged. “We couldn’t be absolutely certain the vault was here, your parents could simply have been go-betweens that would arrange for its transport farther on. We had to know for sure before we moved on the vault.”

Tasha nodded, accepting the logic of that. “So your family wanted the Necrostone, that explains their involvement, are you telling me that the stone was all that was taken from the vault?”

“No, there was a list of items that were suspected, through various legends, of having been stored there. Keiran Shayde, though a formidable and wealthy man, hadn’t the means to set up a job like this on his own, he needed help. So he turned to one of the Lost Ones.” Toxyn informed her.

Tasha frowned. “The Lost Ones? Who are they?”

He seemed momentarily surprised. “I would have thought the daughter of a priest would know of the Lost Ones.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “The Lost Ones are fallen demon lords, banished from Hades and made to walk the mortal plane. They are monsters, every one of them, though a few don’t really look very monstrous. There are thirteen of them, brothers all and their mother, Lady Vranth the demon witch, acts as the senior advisor to whichever brother currently runs the families interests. The way their seniority structure works is a little confusing, but suffice to say that Gorgon runs things now, out of a town in Blackguard called, of all things, Hades. Gorgon was all for helping us to raid the vault, but Keiran was no fool, he didn’t tell the Lost Lord where the vault was located, knowing that Gorgon would simply conduct the raid on his own and the Shayde family’s needs be damned. Instead he got Gorgon to supply the orcs that you and your town guard fought in the streets of Hanover. He also supplied a list of items that his clients would be interested in purchasing and made their recovery from the vault his only price in helping. Oddly, your mother was one of the items on that list.”

Tasha blinked in surprise. “Someone put my mother on the list of things to be taken from the vault?”

Toxyn nodded. “Well, from the town, but I’m sure they knew she would be found there.”

“I just assumed she had been taken because of her knowledge of the items in the vault. Who could have wanted her specifically taken? For what purpose?” Tasha asked.

Toxyn shrugged. “Well, I don’t know who, but I can give you a couple of guesses why. After all, your mother isn’t exactly ugly.”

Tasha narrowed her eyes dangerously at him, but he merely stared back at her unwaveringly. “What else can you tell me about what was taken from the vault?”

“Like I said, there was a list. Unfortunately, I don’t have it and never did. Eliza had the list with her.” He pauses here, then says, “That was the woman that was fleeing the temple with me.”

“You mean the one that abandoned you to be arrested and imprisoned? That woman?” Tasha inquired airily.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, Eliza Shayde… daughter of Keiran. That stung by the way, being abandoned like that.”

“I can only imagine. That’s some family you belong to.” She shook her head. “So you’re telling me that you don’t know what was taken, if we want a comprehensive list we’ll have to get it from Eliza Shayde? Or whoever she’s given it to by now?”

“I can tell you descriptions of some of the items. There was a book… a dagger… a couple of rings… a mask of some kind… the stone of course.” He pauses for a moments thought, then shrugs. “There may have been more, but that’s all I can recall at this point.”

Tasha takes her time, regarding the assassin thoughtfully, then she says. “Two more things. First, what happened to you? This… transformation or whatever it is? Is it going to be a problem for me in the days to come? Obviously you and I are going to be traveling on together as I have no idea who we’re dealing with or where to find them.”

He shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what’s happening. I know it isn’t over yet, I’m still changing and it’s occasionally very painful. It’s because of one of the items in the vault. We were inside when your mother surprised us… she and I were fighting and I knocked over some phial of a greenish liquid. When it splashed on the ground she screamed and leapt away, hit her head on a pedestal that some of the items were sitting on and was knocked out. The liquid turned to a green smoke and engulfed me… burned like Hell and seemed to seep into my pores.” He held up his hands as if he could see it, and maybe he could. Tasha wondered if the green smoke was the same color as his skin was now. “The transformation started right away. I had to be assisted from the vault and your mother was carried. You know the rest. I don’t know what the stuff was or what it’s doing to me. I could be dead tomorrow, for all I know. Though I doubt it… I think I’m transforming into something… I don’t know… certainly not human anymore.”

Tasha nodded. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it, monitor what happens as best we can.” She paused, then she reached behind her back and drew forth Calistone’s old dagger. “And this? What can you tell me about it?”

“When Keiran initially approached Gorgon to ask for his aid, I was among the group he sent as liaisons. While in Hades I was approached by a man who seemed to know what we were planning, or at the very least where we were going. He gave me that dagger and told me that if I got the opportunity I should show it to you.” Toxyn told her.

“I was named specifically by this man?” Tasha asked, frowning. The rogue nodded. “Can you describe him?”

“He was an elf, quite a bit older than you I would think, though age is hard to determine with you people. He had black hair, worn short with a receding hairline. A thin face with very sharp ears that were quite a bit higher than yours. A thin mustache and he was an archer too… had a nice bow and quiver full of arrows.” Toxyn shrugged. “I got the impression he was a citizen of the town.”

Tasha’s eyes had narrowed again. “Dylaethe.” She said softly.

“Pardon?” Toxyn asked.

“Darian Dylaethe used to live in Hanover… fancied himself a suitor of mine before Calistone came along and “stole” me away from him as he always used to say. Cal actually ran him out of town a year or so before the raid. I’ve always wondered if he hadn’t had something to do with it.” She also wondered, now, if he had been the reason her mother was taken. Perhaps Darian was trying to lure her into a trap, thinking she would come for her mother. Which of course she planned to do… eventually. She sighed, again drawing his eyes to her bust line and stood up. “Thank you Toxyn. Get some rest while you can, we’ll be leaving in a few hours. I have some thinking to do in the meantime.” He nodded and watched her walk away toward the front of the cave.

Two hours later Tasha stood on the beach, facing the waves as they washed ashore, feeling the wind in her lustrous mahogany hair. Her eyes were closed and she was thinking, weighing all her options and warring with the desires of her heart. Drifter, who had been watching over her from the mouth of the cave, making certain she wasn’t snuck up on by any search parties that they were certain were out looking for them by now, finally walked down the beach toward her. As always, he was struck by how incredibly beautiful she was, a statuesque and extremely shapely woman that would have put some goddesses he had statues of to shame.

“We can’t stay here much longer.” He said softly when he came up beside her.

If she was surprised by his sudden arrival, it didn’t show. Without opening her eyes she nodded. “I know that.”

“Can I help?” He asked.

Now she did open her eyes and turned her head to look at him tenderly. “Drifter, you’ve already done so much. I fear I’ve ruined your life with all this.”

He laughed aloud at that. “What life? I was living homeless on the streets of your town before all this, remember? I’d done a pretty fair job of ruining myself before you had a hand in anything milady… Tasha.” He corrected himself quickly. “If anything, you’ve given me a cause to care about again, and I can assure you it’s been a long while since I’ve cared about anything.”

She regarded him a moment, then she nodded. “I’ll not deny that your help will be a welcome thing… as will your company. But I fear people will be hunting us now, and they know that you were involved in what happened.”

He shrugged. “People have been hunting me for a long time as it is.” She glanced at him, surprised. “My real name is not Drifter, you know. I have a past and I live in fear that it will one day come back to haunt me. But that’s not your problem… your problem is what do we do next?”

She sighed and returned her gaze to the distant horizon, where the sea of stars met the azure sky. “My heart tells me to go after my mother, which means Blackguard.”

“Which means Inveigle.” He told her and she glanced at him querulously. “There are no sea ports in Blackguard, unless it’s a pirate port. You’d have to land in the human kingdom and travel over land to get to the goblin swamps.”

She shook her head. “You see? I have no idea about these things. I haven’t traveled much.” She sighed again, “But my mother wouldn’t approve of that path anyway.”

“She wouldn’t want you to come after her?” He asked skeptically.

“Ayla Tulaetin can take care of herself, believe me. Plus I have an idea about what’s going on there, so I think she’s safe enough for the time being. But the fact is that my mother and father took an oath many years ago to keep the items they stored for the church safe, and to do whatever it took to retrieve them should they be lost.” She hadn’t told Drifter anything about the dark vault, and he didn’t want to know, but he was starting to catch on to some of what was happening here.

“You feel that with your parents out of the action, it now falls to you to fulfill that oath?” He asked.

“Me or Kally, yes. One of us is needed back in Hanover to run things and to keep an eye on Sneed. Besides, events have transpired in such a way that it seems fate has chosen me for the task.” She shook her head. “As much as I hate to say it… it think we’re going to have to go to Errgaunt, to confront the Shayde family and find out exactly what was taken from my parents temple. Then we’ll have to take measures to retrieve it.”

He took a deep, troubled breath and turned to face her fully. Sensing his disquiet, she turned to face him as well. “Errgaunt is a problem for me.” He admitted to her. She opened her mouth to speak, no doubt to tell him he didn’t have to come, but he held up a hand quieting her. “I’ll follow you through the gates of hell itself, and Errgaunt is as close to that on Kyzanthia as I can come. But you need to know that over there, in the empire, I’m as wanted as you are soon to be here. If it gets out that I’m there, people will come looking. If you’re all right with that… then I pledge to you my sword.”

She regarded him solemnly for a time, then she nodded. “On one condition.” He looked a question at her. “You tell me your real name… and on the way to the human empire, you must tell me your story.”

He took a deep breath… then he nodded. “My name is Killian Reese, formerly of the Imperial Royal Guard… and I am at your service milady.”

She smiled and reached out with one hand, caressing the side of his face, feeling his stubble rough against her soft skin. “Thank you for trusting me with that Killian. Now, would you go and tell the assassin that we’re to be leaving shortly?” He nodded and turned back toward the cave while she turned toward the sea again. Quietly, only to herself she said, “Be strong mother… I’ll come for you eventually.”

The Mage

-1-

Guild Tower Library, Peacehope:

She entered the library without fanfare and yet every eye present turned in her direction as she paused just within the doorway. Of course, she was used to such attention, being both a member of one of the more recognizable noble families and a woman of rather striking beauty. Aribeth Bethany Moonstone had recently been accepted as the apprentice to none other than Gideon Tyrell, the headmaster of Peacehopes own University of Sorcery, of which she was a graduate. Gideon was also a member of the local mages guild’s senior council, so as his apprentice Beth often found herself running errands on council business. Her visit to the library today was one such errand.

Beth, a cousin to the more popular and widely known Moonstone sisters, was no less of a beauty than they. She stands about five foot nine, average for a human woman, which she most resembles though she is in fact half high elf. Her hair is a long, lustrous shade of deepest blue… almost black and her skin is smooth and flawless, bronzed by the sun. She wears the robe of an apprentice wizard, which is the school she has been chosen to study under Gideon, but her status as a Moonstone has permitted her some… rather unorthodox alterations to her attire. The robe is open in the front, revealing a dress of royal purple that clings somewhat provocatively to her ample curves and is daringly low cut in front. There are also slits on either side, just above her hips, where the smooth lines of her waist are visible.

She stands in the doorway, scanning the library with her vibrant blue eyes, though much of the room is blocked from view by the tall shelves of books scattered seemingly haphazardly about the vast chamber. A young initiate, seeing her standing by the door and taking a few moments to build up the courage to approach her finally does so. “Can I help you milady?”

She doesn’t deign to even glance in his direction, though she does respond to him. “Perhaps. I am looking for an initiate named Magnus Jorvel.”

The initiate nodded, striving and failing to keep his eyes from wandering down to her dresses low cut front. “We all know Magnus rather well here, he’s been coming in for several years now. You’ll probably find him over in Arcane Lore.” He motioned toward a distant section of the library, little used by many of the initiates that came here to study. Beth couldn’t remember ever having been there before.

She said nothing to the initiate as she moved off toward the location indicated, though she heard his mumbled “bitch” as she moved off, certain his eyes were on her ass as she departed. She didn’t care what he thought of her, she typically didn’t care about too much of anything.

Aribeth wandered the aisles of the library, glancing up and down them as she passed, looking for the man she had been sent to fetch. She had never met Magnus, except perhaps to pass him in the halls of the University. She had graduated a couple of years ahead of him and had been selected by Gideon as his apprentice within months of her graduation. She was on the fast track within the local guild, and she knew it… it just annoyed her that so few other people seemed aware.

She found him in the farthest, dustiest corner of the library, seated at a reading table poring over an ancient tome. The whole section of the library smelled musty and little used, causing the woman to wrinkle her nose in distaste as she approached his table. As she drew near him she regarded the young mage, rather surprised to find that a young man of his studious reputation would be so… impressive. He wasn’t overly tall, about six feet in height and his brown hair was worn on the long side, touching his shoulders and tucked back behind his ears. He wasn’t clean shaven, but neither did he have a full beard and she found the look rather worked for him, was appealing even. His robes were blue, which wasn’t common for an initiate and she liked that at once. She herself had never stuck to tradition when it came to what was expected of them in regards to attire. On closer inspection she saw that the robes were trimmed in a golden yellow.

“Magnus Jorvel?” she asked, stopping across the table from him.

“Hmmm.” Was all the response she got as he turned a light weight page that crackled with age as he leafed it to one side.

Aribeth’s brows shot up at that and she leaned forward, placing her palms flat on the table directly in front of the book. “Are you Magnus Jorvel?”

“Mmm hmm.” He responded, switching his gaze from one page of the book to the next.

Now she was genuinely amused, her full pink lips quirking in a wry smile. “Must be a fascinating book to keep your attention so fully.”

“Pardon?” he said, finally glancing up from the book. His eyes made it as far as her cleavage and stopped, widening in stunned surprise. Of course, this had been her intent in leaning over toward him as she had done.

Now she made a show of turning her head to look at the pages he had been so avidly perusing. “See anything you like?”

Magnus’s eyes finally lifted from her tantalizing décolletage, but again stopped after only a few inches, noting for the first time the golden medallion she wore, in the shape of a crescent moon, dangling a few inches above the deep valley of her cleavage. “Yes…” he said at last, lifting his gaze to hers, “…yes I do Lady Moonstone.”

Aribeth lifted her gaze from the pages of the book and met his and felt her heartbeat stop for the briefest moment. He had the most striking, electric blue eyes she had ever seen. In fact she would have sworn they glowed. For a moment, she was nonplussed, and that was something she never was. She recovered quickly enough that she thought he hadn’t noticed her reaction though. “I meant in the book, of course.” She tapped the dry, brittle pages in front of him with a long, well-manicured nail.

“So did I.” He replied quickly, his eyes playing over her face, committing every detail to a photographic memory. Her high cheekbones, deep blue eyes and full lips were not a combination that was often seen in the world… a nearly perfect specimen. Though he knew that was a rather common thing among her kin.

“Oh… you are fun. I didn’t expect that.” Her smile was genuine as she straightened up and Magnus leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a smile of his own. “So what is it you’re reading anyway?”

“A study of mana and how the close proximity of a dragon is said to alter its flow.” He said, watching her face for a reaction.

“Sounds fascinating.” She told him, and he couldn’t tell if she was genuinely intrigued or simply playing to his ego. He decided it didn’t matter, the longer this beauty stuck around the better he would like it.

“What brings the apprentice of Gideon Tyrell to this dark corner of the guild library?” he asked.

“A summons… the guild council wishes to see you. I admit at first I thought this to be a mundane task… now I’m glad it was given to me.” There was a boldness in her gaze that he liked, a challenge that he was tempted to rise to.

“The council has sent for me?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you happen to know why?”

“Of course I know why, it’s one of the many benefits of being apprenticed to Gideon Tyrell. However, I can’t tell you… that’s for them to do.” She smiled again, this time more knowingly. “Nervous?”

“I’ve no reason to be. I haven’t done anything wrong.” He replied.

Her smile turned playful, as did her tone. “That you know of you mean.” His brows shot up at that and he wondered if she knew something he didn’t. “Not wise to keep the council waiting.”

-2-

Aribeth led the way down a long hall on the top floor of the guild tower. This was the floor where the senior mages lived, worked and handled the day to day running of the Peacehope mages guild. Magnus had never been here, it was forbidden for non-apprenticed initiates to come to this floor unless they were escorted by a full-fledged mage or apprentice. Having Aribeth with him made not only for pleasant company but also for a legal reason to finally see the top floor of the guild. As he followed her down the hall, he mused upon what the summons might be about. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, so he wasn’t worried that it was a meeting involving some form of punishment. The only thing he could think of that made any sense at all was that he had been chosen to be someone’s apprentice. The thought of that made him quite happy, as he had only graduated the mystical university a month before. The only other person in the history of the school to have been chosen as an apprentice that quickly was currently leading him down the hallway, and most people thought that Gideon Tyrell’s ties to her father and uncle were more the reason for the quick choosing than any actual skill. To Magnus, the only real question that remained was who it might be that had chosen him as a summons to the council chamber was unusual for something like this. Usually such things were done in private, typically in the mages place of residence where the prospective apprentice was brought and tested by the possible master. For something like this to be taking place in front of the entire senior council left only a couple of possibilities likely in the mind of the young mage.

One, the prospective master was a member of the senior council, but that didn’t make any sense because it wasn’t such a momentous occasion that they would summon him to the council hall. The senior council members often took apprentices, it was actually an expectation of their role… it happened pretty frequently. All but one of them that is… the guild Arcanist seldom took an apprentice, in fact Magnus couldn’t remember a time when the Peacehope arcanist had ever taken on an apprentice. There were a couple of reasons for this of course… the first being that any prospective apprentice to any arcanist had to be approved by the Arcanum… the highest ranking mages in the world, who ran the various schools of magic and upheld the laws concerning them. It had long been Magnus’s dream to be an Arcanist, so he had applied and been approved quickly as soon as he had graduated. Another reason why it was rare for the Peacehope arcanist, Purge, to take an apprentice was that the man was a rather notorious bastard, or so the rumors went at any rate. Still, he could think of no other reason for him to be summoned to the council’s grand hall. The thought that Purge had seen something in him that he thought would make a good Arcanist made Magnus happier than he had been in a long while, and he was suddenly walking along in Lady Moonstone’s wake with a much pronounced spring in his step.

Aribeth noticed the change in his demeanor and glanced sidelong at him. “Think you’ve figured it out have you?” she asked with a knowing smile. He returned that smile in kind. Then she laughed and shook her head, “Don’t count your spells before they’re cast.” As they rounded a corner onto the final approach to the council’s main chamber Magnus’s smile faltered. There ahead of them was the large double doors he had always heard about but had never seen and the sight of them should have filled him with wonder and exhilaration, but the sight of something else at the end of the hall filled him with curiosity and no little dread. “Told you.” Beth said with a soft giggle.

Standing next to the chamber doors, leaning up against a wall to one side of the hallway, was a woman that Magnus hadn’t expected to see there. Her name was Kelsi Lasko, and she was a recent graduate of the Peacehope University of Sorcery, like him. They had been part of the same class, had taken many of the same courses and had been rivals throughout their schooling. Friendly rivals, yes, but rivals just the same. Her presence here was not something he could have anticipated, and it through him for a bit of a loop.

Noting movement from the corner of her eye Kelsi turned her head and saw them coming. When her gaze settled on Magnus he caught just the faintest flicker of trepidation, telling him that she too had not expected to see him here. That made him feel better, at least they were both on equal footing. Standing about five foot, seven inches tall Kelsi appeared human though Magnus knew that she, like him, shared the blood of a demon. He wasn’t certain what type of demon, nor which side of her family it had been on, no more than she knew those things about him. Trying to determine each other’s demonic ancestry had been some of the fun of their rivalry through school. She had long blond hair that fell in a loose, lustrous tumble about her shoulders and to her shoulder blades. Her eyes were very dark her skin quite pale and her lips a natural red that stood out nicely. She was slender and svelte, with firm round breasts that weren’t very large but still managed to nicely fill out the sparse top she covered them with. Kelsi had never been one to stand on tradition, and rather than the robes initiates were supposed to wear, she had always been more one to wear tailored outfits that weren’t quite dresses but weren’t exactly in any other category Magnus was aware of either. The one she wore today was one he had seen many times, and though he would never tell her, it was one of his favorites. Dark blue and consisting of a halter style top that was little more than a long strip of cloth over her breasts, twisted in the middle and tied at her back. A skirt rode low on her hips, slit up each side to reveal one of her long, shapely legs every time she took a step. One of the only signs that she wasn’t fully human was the fact that her ears were sharply pointed, like those of a high elf and she was certainly pretty enough to pass as one. But she was not shy about denying any elven heritage, and that left only one possibility in Magnus’s mind… Daemonyc, like him.

As always when he found himself in Kelsi’s presence he immediately felt a little flustered, for even though they were rivals, there was an undeniable attraction there as well. As they neared the young initiate, Magnus became acutely aware that he was now in the presence of two exceptionally beautiful women. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here.” Kelsi said as he and Beth stopped in front of her. He had always thought her voice was like a sultry purr, and almost erotic thing that was highly enjoyable to listen to.

“Have you met Aribeth Moonstone?” He asked, motioning at the woman standing next to him.

“Not officially.” Kelsi said, her dark gaze sweeping over the other woman, sizing her up as though a competitor. Aribeth merely stood there, smiling benignly, as though not seeing the remotest threat represented in the other woman. “A pleasure.” It was obvious by Kelsi’s tone that she wasn’t certain it was a pleasure, but etiquette dictated that she pay respect to the apprentice, who technically outranked them both in the guild hierarchy.

Aribeth simply nodded a greeting at the other woman, then turned toward the double doors. “I’ll check and see if they’re ready for you two yet.” With that she turned and headed into the council chambers, leaving the hopeful initiates in the hall alone.

They were silent a moment, then Kelsi spoke, “So… do you suppose we’ve both been summoned here for the same reason?”

“Seems logical, doesn’t it?” He asked.

Kelsi nodded, was quiet another moment, then asked, “Who do you suppose it will be?”

‘So she’s come to the same conclusion I have.’ He thought, but aloud he said, “I know who I hope it will be.” He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t have time to ask him to, because at that moment Aribeth reappeared at the door.

“You two ready?” she asked and when Magnus nodded she pused the doors open wide and motioned them to follow her inside.

-3-

The council chamber was smaller than Magnus thought it would be, but it was no less grand in appearance because of it. There were six rows of bench like seats between the main door and the row of seats where the five council members sat. An aisle ran down the center of those six rows and Aribeth led them down it. Magnus glanced around as he progressed, trying to maintain an air of relative indifference, as if his stomach weren’t tied in knots just being there. The walls were lined with writing in the arcane language, which glowed slightly, the glow brightening and diminishing with the angle of view as he passed. There was no statuary or wall hangings of any kind in the room, but a few book cases could be seen along the walls and Magnus wondered at the tomes that lined those shelves. Obviously, they were deemed too important to store in the library downstairs. His hands ached to get hold of those books!

Finally, when they reached the front of the rows of seats and stood before the guild council, he directed his attention to them. The five council members represented the most powerful mages in Peacehope, four men and a woman, all of whom were steeped in mystery and legend. At the center stood the most senior member of the council, the mage who was only known as Destiny. His chair sat on a pedestal, slightly elevated to the others, denoting his status as the leader of the guild. Destiny was a tall, powerfully built man in a skin tight body suit that accentuated the rippling muscles underneath it. A high necked cape hung down his back and a helm of pure gold, devoid of any adornment that might constitute a face hid his head from view. To Magnus’s knowledge, no one even knew what race he was. To his right, slightly lower than Destiny, sat Gideon Tyrell, the headmaster of the University and one of Magnus’s favorite people. He was human and though it wasn’t supposed to be possible for the race to have such longevity, Magnus suspected the man was well over a hundred years old. He was slight of build but managed not to look frail. He had a bald head which was usually hidden beneath a hat of some kind and a long, flowing white beard that piled in his lap, hiding his hands which were folded in it. He wore a robe of dark blue that was studded with silver moons and stylized fairy wings. The twinkle in his eye was undiminished from the last time Magnus had seen him, at the graduation ceremony a month before. To the guild leaders left, equidistant from Gideon, sat Aletta Starhawk, guild chronicler, whose responsibility it was to keep all of the guild records, such things and membership rosters, who had paid their fees and what new spells might have been created by the members. Magnus himself intended to add to that last category at the earliest possible opportunity.

Aletta was a striking woman with long, red brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. She had a pert nose, full lips and high cheekbones that gave her an almost aristocratic look. Her delicately pointed ears, marking her as a high elf, added a bit of exotic appeal to her already desirable appearance. She favored snug fitting dresses with long, flowing skirts and low necklines that revealed copious amounts of cleavage, of which she had a great deal as her breasts were high, firmly rounded and quite large. She surveyed the pair of Initiates as they approached, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Magnus than on Kelsi. He wondered at that, was it because she had heard of him through his successes in school, or did she maybe find him attractive? There were advantages there to exploit, whichever the reason.

To Aletta’s left, seated a level down from her and as such on the ground level was one of the two more junior members of the council. His name was Jarrod Blackwood and he looked to be of an age with Aletta, though she was likely much older than she looked. He was a wizard, a practitioner of the Incantation school of magic. A man of average height, gaunt with sunken cheeks and eyes that had receded back into his head. He looked quite like he had recently been very ill and had not yet fully recovered. He wore robes of simple brown, making him look more like a monastic monk than a wizard and his black hair was stringy and already thinning at the top. Magnus had never had occasion to speak to the man, but there was something about him that the young mage just instinctively didn’t trust.

The final member of the guild council was perhaps the most flamboyant, but seeing him here in this setting, among these far too serious people caused a smile to cross the young man’s face. His name was Gnort, a gnome whose origins were a mystery to Magnus but whose alchemy shop in town the young man had frequented, along with many other students. Gnort gave a ten percent discount to students on goods and services pertaining to helping with their magical education. He was no more than three feet tall, so that in order to even be noticed he actually had to stand on his chair. He looked to be the human equivalent of about sixty years old and had an immaculately well-kept beard of snowy white and an unlit pipe clamped between his teeth. He wore a simple tunic and trouser, having never felt the need to “mage it up” as he called it when other mages dressed to augment the mystique with in which they were already viewed. Gnorts’ roll on the council, as Magnus understood it, was to represent the magical craftsmen within Peacehope, of which there were comparatively few. Magnus had always felt that it was merely an excuse the other council members used to keep an eye on the mischievous gnome.

The initiates halted about twenty feet in front of the guild council and stood easy, Magnus cradling his staff in the hook of his elbow while Kelsi made a show of checking the polish on her always impeccable nails. When Destiny addressed them his voice was such a basso rumble that Kelsi jumped, and Magnus started slightly, though he thought his reaction might have been less noticeable thanks to hers. The young mage saw the gnome glance over at the council head and then roll his eyes in disdain, causing Magnus to form a quickly stifled smirk. “Magnus Jorvel and Kelsi Lasko.”

Both Initiates, understanding that any pretense was now over, both stood up a little straighter and looked directly at the councilors. “Yes.” Magnus said in response, though Kelsi only nodded. He suspected she was trying to hide her nerves and didn’t trust herself to speak yet.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Gideon asked, leaning forward and looking a bit eager. He always liked to see his students do well after graduation, it was particularly gratifying for him.

Magnus spoke up as once again Kelsi was quiet. “Well, I can’t speak for Miss Lasko,” he said and Gideon chuckled in a way that made it clear no one could speak for Kelsi, she saw to that, “but as I’m certain I’ve done nothing wrong, I have to assume it’s something to do with be chosen as an apprentice.”

“A bit impertinent, isn’t he?” This from Jarrod Blackwood, who was regarding Magnus with evident dislike, though the young mage couldn’t understand why that would be.

On the far side of the council seats Gnort snorted indignantly. “Impertinent? Him?” The gnome shook his head, then grumbled the next line just loud enough to be heard. “You’re one to talk.”

Gideon smiled faintly and glanced at the gnome, whom he had always liked. Magnus had suspected inviting Gnort to the council had been his former headmasters idea. The next to speak was Aletta Starhawk, leaning forward in a way that he suspected was calculated to offer a breathtaking view down the front of her dress, a view that Magnus saw no reason not to indulge in. After all, she offered…. “You are correct in your assumption young Magnus.” She confirmed and he felt a little jolt of excitement run through him, wondered if Kelsi had recovered her voice yet.

As it turned out, she had, probably because Kelsi had never been one to let another woman outperform her. “I hadn’t heard of any openings for new apprentices.”

The council all glanced at her, acknowledging silently that she had finally joined the conversation. “Nor would you have.” Destiny assured her. “This particular opening would not be readily advertised.”

Kelsi glanced almost nervously at Magnus, who struggled not to return it. Gideon leaned forward, his gaze taking them both in simultaneously. “Can you think of anyone within the guild who might take on an apprentice but not want it publicly known?”

They could, but they hardly dared believe it was true. Suddenly from the back of the room the very doors the two Initiates had just come through burst open, causing them both to whirl around. “Don’t torment the young ones Gideon.” Said a calm but commanding voice that didn’t need to be raised to be heard. He was tall and slender, the high, sharp points of his ears marking him as one of the largely reviled Chaos Elves. His hair was blonde, his cheeks smooth and he had intense blue eyes, like glaciers as they looked out from beneath the sweep of his bangs, which lay across his forehead. He carried no staff, though it was said that he did when he traveled. He radiated power, wore it like a cloak and it fit as though it was tailored to him.

The newcomer swept down the aisle between the seats, coming to a stop between the council members and the Initiates. He acknowledged the council with a nod, then said, “I apologize for being late… I was receiving some last minute instructions from the Arcanum.”

“Quite all right Purge.” Destiny assured him. “I trust it was nothing too pressing?”

The chaos elf shook his head, “They were passing along the last bit of information I had requested regarding todays business.” With that he turned to face the two initiates. He paused, taking a few moments to size them both up. Magnus saw Kelsi square her shoulders and thrust her chest out, subconsciously drawing on her sexuality to try to impress, but Purge seemed disinterested. His eyes were narrowed as he regarded them both, but neither initiate could fathom what it was he was looking at... or for. “Do you know who I am?”

There was no way Magnus was going to let Kelsi answer that one first. “Purge, guild Arcanist.”

The chaos elf regarded the human for a moment, then nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he turned sharply and started to pace back and forth in front of them. His robes of light blue swirled around his ankles as he walked. “And what… exactly…is an Arcanist?”

“A practitioner of the arcane school of magic.” Kelsi responded, and Magnus thought he detected the slightest quaver in her voice.

Again Purge nodded. “Why is that important?”

“The arcane school is where most of the damaging and protective spells can be found… those most commonly associated with combat.” Magnus declared.

Purge glanced at him as he strode past, “Recited almost word for word from one of your text books.” He paused as he turned to pace back the other way, “But correct in context.” After a few more beats had added, “And what does an Arcanist do with those particular spells?”

For several moments neither Magnus nor Kelsi wanted to answer, but then the former spoke up, “You hunt dark mages.”

Purge had turned back toward him and halted right in front of him, spinning on his heel and coming face to face with the young mage. He locked his gaze with Magnus’s, his eyes narrowing slightly, his visage grim. “Can you tell me why it would be that when an Arcanist decides to take on an Apprentice, it should be kept secret from the general populace?”

The question was obviously intended expressly for Magnus, so Kelsi made no attempt to answer it. “Because if the information were made public, that apprentice would be in danger of being hunted him or herself by the very people he or she is going to train to hunt.”

“Correct. If dark mages found out that an Arcanist were taking on a new apprentice, they would feel it best to hunt down said apprentice, before they had studied their chosen school of magic to the point of becoming a danger.” Purge started pacing again, and as he paced he spoke. “I do not want an apprentice… I do not feel that training an initiate is a valid use of my time or skills. The Arcanum, from whom the bulk of our assignments come, do not particularly care what I want. They have decided that it is time for Algeron to have a second Arcanist… they feel that this island is growing sufficiently to support two of us. It is their will that I train that apprentice myself. If it is the will of the Arcanum… then it is my duty to see it done.” The guild council had stayed quiet through all this, and they continued to sit quietly and watch as the arcanist gave his spiel. “It has been decided that of the more than five hundred letters of interest that the Arcanum has received in recent years from the local university, you two are the likeliest candidates. I believe that this is largely because many of those who have applied before you have already been chosen by other mages. I can think of at least one initiate who might have been a better choice.” As he turned, he glanced to one side of the guild hall and all other eyes instinctively turned that say. Aribeth Moonstone stood quietly in the shadows, awaiting further instructions and when she realized that Purge had been talking about her she blushed with embarrassment… and probably pride. “However… you two are not without your strengths. Unfortunately, I can only have one apprentice and so I must decide which of you it will be.”

He stopped again, this time face to face with Kelsi, the tips of her breasts nearly brushing his chest. He locked his gaze with hers and it was to her credit that she didn’t flinch or look away. He said nothing to her, asked her no questions, he merely stared into her striking blue eyes for a moment before turning away. “I find myself in a quandary.” He didn’t pace anymore, but took several strides toward the council members, hands still clasped behind his back. He regarded each of the council for a moment or two, and when he spoke again he was still facing away from his prospective apprentices. “I find I cannot choose between you. You each have assets that would be… useful to an Arcanist and while those assets differ greatly between the two of you I find that their appeal as prospective Apprentices are equal. Therefore, rather than having to choose, I propose that you be given a chance to prove yourselves to me.” Magnus saw Gideon and Aletta each frown at those words. “If you wish to be Arcanists, then the best test I can imagine to determine which of you would be the best suited to the task is to actually have you attempt to capture and bring to justice a dark mage.” Several of the council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats at this proclamation, but Purge turned his back on them. “The information I received earlier from the Arcanum was about a dark wizard who has been on the run from us for some time now. A man that has ties to this area and so was assigned to me to bring in. I think that chasing this particular mage down would be the ideal test of not only your skills thus far, but also of your drive to become Arcanists.”

Magnus dared to ask the question, “Who is this dark mage?”

Purge didn’t respond right away, gazing at his two prospective students for a moment, then he answered, “AgmarTythus… otherwise known as Arkayne.”

A murmur of surprise and disapproval made its way through the assembled council members. Magnus looked blank, for he had never actually heard of Arkayne. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” Aletta Starhawk demanded, leaning forward in her seat and regarding the chaos elf with narrowed eyes.

Purge turned to regard her, the smallest of smiles playing across his narrow face. He shrugged slightly, indifferently, “Actually, that’s entirely possible.”

“Who’s AgmarTythus?” Kelsi asked, and Magnus was glad she had, for he didn’t want to appear ignorant of the name.

Purge turned back to his prospective apprentices, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Never heard of Arkayne?” He shook his head. “My, we aren’t off to a very good start, are we?”

It was Gideon Tyrell that explained who the dark mage was. “Arkayne was the man who replaced me as the mage in residence on the charter of the Dragons.” No one who spent any time at all in Peacehope had to ask who the Dragons were. They were a legendary team of adventurers, sanctioned by the throne of Peacehope and led by Sir Donovan Moonstone, the First Knight of the city. Gideon had been a founding member of the team before he had retired from adventuring and opened his school, later accepting a position on the guild council. “It is one of the saddest facts of my past that it was I who recommended him for the job. Things didn’t end well between Arkayne and my friends.”

“What happened?” Magnus asked, surprised at his own voice for he hadn’t intended to say anything. He caught Purge’s slight glance in his direction, but couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“It turned out that Arkayne was a student of many different schools of magic, most of them illegal. He studied the psychic school, necromancy, shadow magic and Allurimancy. The latter without a license. He used this knowledge to bewitch the women that were on the team at the time, mind controlling them into having sex with perfect strangers for which these strangers would pay Arkayne. It wasn’t until Joanna Zoltan, now Lady Moonstone, began traveling with them that they eventually caught on. Arkayne did the same thing with Joanna, but she was magically savvy enough to understand that there was some enchantment at work and she went to Donovan about it. The two were already close and he had never particularly liked Arkayne so he confronted the mage. There was a short battle and Arkayne fled, he hasn’t been seen since that I know of.”

“Correct… until recently.” Purge amended. “The Arcanum sent me word this morning that my former master,” he glanced at his two prospective apprentices here, looking for a reaction, but the slight widening of Kelsi’s eyes was the only one, “has been seen in Inveigle. He is believed to be heading to the goblin kingdom of Blackguard, for what purpose they don’t know.” He directed his next words directly and Magnus and Kelsi. “Your mission then, is to not only capture Arkayne to be brought to justice, but also to find out what his plans are in Blackguard. The Arcanum wants to know what he’s up to.”

“And the first of us to complete this mission gets the spot as your apprentice?” Kelsi asked, her expression becoming shrewd.

Purge nodded, the motion extended into a half bow. “That is correct.”

Kelsi turned to Magnus, excitement evident in her gaze. “It’s as good as mine already!”

Magnus didn’t rise to that bait, he merely shrugged his shoulders and looked neutral. Purge had already turned back to the council. “That is the decision I have reached in regard to the choice of an apprentice. I have nothing further for either of these two at this point.”

Destiny, who had remained quiet throughout most of the previous conversation, nodded imperiously and said, “You both may go.” Magnus and Kelsi turned as one and headed for the door, but as they walked out, Magnus heard Gnort the gnomish alchemist speak.

“I wouldn’t trade places with those two for all the gold in Errgaunt!”

-3-

Magnus returned to his room in the dormitory at the University, where he was still allowed to live, though not likely for much longer. Students were given a year after graduation to get themselves settled into new quarters and to find either an apprenticeship or some sort of a guild approved gainful employment. The young mage’s thoughts were a whirl as he tried to figure out what his next step should be. “Pack,” he said aloud, “I should pack for the journey to Blackguard.” He stood in the middle of his dormitory, looking blankly around, realizing he had no idea whatsoever what he should be packing, or even if he owned anything that would come in handy during such an adventure.

He wasn’t certain how long he stood there, lost in his own thoughts, but suddenly there was a knock at his dormitory door. Frowning, wondering who it could be since he had no real friends who might come calling, he went to the door and opened it. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Aletta Starhawk standing in the hall outside his room. The beautiful mage stood there a moment, regarding his surprised expression with a bemused one of her own, then she finally said, “Are you going to invite me in, or do we have to talk in the doorway?”

“Huh?” He glanced around, realized how rude he was being and stepped aside, motioning her into the room. “Sorry, please come in.”

She stepped through the door and glanced around appraisingly, seeming impressed with the overall neatness of the room. Magnus was by no means a clean freak, but neither did he spend all that much time in this room, so it didn’t really have time to get too cluttered. “I’ve never actually visited these dorms before.” She commented, almost off handedly. “I didn’t go to school here, so I never had the need.” Magnus closed the door behind her once she had entered and as he turned to face her he found the elven woman regarding him with frank interest. “That was quite the bombshell our resident Arcanist dropped earlier.” Magnus shrugged, not certain what she wanted in coming here. “I wanted to see you… to tell you that there is no need for you to go through with this madness. Arkayne is no slouch Magnus, he’s a very dangerous mage and he’s certainly not afraid to kill… or worse.”

“You think I should be afraid to face him?” Magnus asked.

Aletta laughed, the sound reverberating off the walls of the dorm room like the ringing of a bell. It stirred something within Magnus and he felt a powerful attraction to the woman. “You’d be a fool not to be afraid to face him… I would be afraid to and I have a great deal more experience than you do dear.” She paused here, looked him up and down with obvious delight, her full lips spreading into a smile full of promise and sensuality. “It would be a shame for such a… promising young mage to be lost so early in what is sure to be a stellar career.” Her eyes were sweeping the broad expanse of his shoulders and he imagined he could see a slight flush coloring her pale skin.

“Did you maybe have something else in mind?” He asked, the sound of his voice drawing her eyes, such a striking shade of blue, up to his face.

Her smile widened slightly and his heartbeat started to race. “Oh I have a great many things in mind where you are concerned dear Magnus.” She reached out and placed a hand on his chest, her eyes widening when she felt the solid muscle beneath his robes. “You do keep fit, don’t you?”

“I’ve always thought it was logical to keep my body as fit as my mind… magic is equally taxing on both.” He informed her, trying hard to ignore the effect her touch was having on him.

“Pity more of our kind don’t think that way.” She said thoughtfully, then, “But I’m getting off the point.” She removed her hand and stepped away from him and Magnus actually felt a pang of regret at the severing of the physical contact. “I’m here to offer you an apprenticeship with me Magnus. There’s no need for you to go racing off after Arkayne… you really aren’t experienced enough for something like that… I don’t know what Purge is thinking!”

“You’d take me on as your apprentice?” He asked, surprised and surprisingly tempted by the offer. She was a member of the guild council after all… being the apprentice of one of the council had a great many perks, as Aribeth Moonstone could no doubt attest to.

She had moved to the small window in his quarters, which actually had a nice view of the city. Now she turned slightly so that her amazing profile was silhouetted against the sun streaming in through the window. “Oh yes! The things I could teach you! The… experiences we could share… Magnus it would be extraordinary!”

Magnus felt that powerful attraction again, just being in such close proximity to this incredibly alluring woman was arousing. And then it hit him… she was using Allurimancy on him! He knew that she was one of the only licensed practitioners of the art in Peacehope and in fact she had been rumored to teach it to a few people. She was using it now to try and influence his decision! Magnus knew he should be angry at such manipulation, but instead he was intrigued by the challenge it presented… and the opportunity. Knowing what kind of magic was being used on him made it easier to resist, and Magnus had always prided himself on his willpower. “Would it?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh yes!” she was nearly gushing with excitement as she turned back to face him fully from the window. “Magnus, I’m a student of many schools myself! Incantations… the Scribe arts… I have some knowledge in the healing and psychic schools as well! I could share all of that with you!”

“Allurimancy?” He asked and her expression faltered ever so slightly, but she recovered quickly. “Or at least that’s the rumor.”

She turned suddenly coy, turning away from him and lowering her gaze. He felt suddenly protective of her, she seemed so shy and almost innocent. ‘Damn!’ he thought to himself, ‘She’s good!’ In a quiet, almost timid sounding voice she said, “I have… dabbled in that, yes.”

“But not the Arcane school?” He asked her. “You know that’s where my heart truly lies.”

She frowned slightly, turning back to face him. “No… I haven’t studied the combat magics… but they’re over rated Magnus, I assure you.”

Now his brows shot up in surprise. “Over rated?” He asked. “How so?”

“I’ve never understood a persons need to resort to violence when finesse can be so much more effective. It hurts less too, I might add.” She smiled at him slightly and he felt his heart warm a bit under its glow.

“I’ll bet you know all about the magic that makes you feel good.” He said it in a husky voice, letting it seem as though her subtle use of Allurimancy was having more of an effect than it was. That wasn’t difficult, the stuff was quite potent.

She stepped up to him quickly, placed and hand to his chest and then herself against him, her body molding to his and he couldn’t deny that she felt incredible! Her hand, sandwiched now between them, massaged his chest slightly and her breasts pressed against his chest were lifted even higher in her low cut neckline so that it was all but impossible not to look down and devour the view with his eyes. “The things I could show you Magnus… with your potential….” She trailed off, her full lips drifting ever closer to his. For a moment he was tempted to let her kiss him, keen to find out where such a tryst might take him, to see just how good she could make him feel. But only for about half a second.

“What’s in it for you?” he asked softly, just before her voluptuous lips brushed his.

She blinked, frowned up at him, “What?”

He took her gently by the shoulders, pushed her away from him a step, one of the hardest things he had ever done and a he felt it a mild victory for himself. “You keep talking about what a great thing being your apprentice would be for me, but what’s in it for you?”

“The pleasure of having a talented young man to train, of course. There is some… prestige that comes from having a very talented apprentice. One as impressive as you will no doubt be can only be beneficial to my status… as well as yours of course.” She said, and she was so convincing he almost believed her, he wanted to believe her, but again that was because she had made him desire her so strongly. He doubted he would ever be in her presence again without wanting her, he ached for her.

Magnus regarded the sexy elven mage for a moment, smiling slightly and she stood there under that knowing gaze, looking ever more uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, glanced away from him, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. He laughed and she looked back at him, scowling slightly. “Why are you really here?” Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning and he threw his head back and laughed. “Kelsi! There has long been a rumor floating around that she is already a licensed practitioner of Allurimancy. She would have had to get that license from a member of the guild council… that was you wasn’t it?” She didn’t have to answer, her suddenly marked increase in discomfort was answer enough. He laughed again, “She put you up to this didn’t she? To what, try to delay me? To sway me off of Arkayne’s trail all together?” He shook his head. “Well it was a good attempt, the delaying part nearly worked. What I can’t figure is… why? Why would a young initiate, however talented she may be, be able to convince a powerful member of the guild council to do anything for her?” Again, as it so often does with him, the answer follows on the heels of the question. “She has something on you doesn’t she?”

"What?" She laughed, as though the very notion were absurd. "Why is it so difficult to believe that I simply want you as an apprentice?"

He shook his head. "Don't misunderstand me milady, I'm sure that's true, on some level at least. But I also know that you wouldn't be here if there wasn't some ulterior motive at play."

She opened her mouth as if to respond, but before she could there was another light tapping at his door. Frowning, wondering who could be visiting now, he moved across the room to answer the door. To his great surprise, another council member stood in the hallway...Gideon Tyrell. "Ah, Magnus!" he said brightly, then he noticed his counterpart in the room and his bushy white brows shot up. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Aletta said quickly, moving toward the door and brushing past Magnus. As she moved past Gideon she said, "I can see it was a mistake to come here." Then she was gone, moving quickly off down the hallway.

Both men watched her move away, a pleasant distraction to be sure, then Gideon turned to face Magnus again. "May I come in?" He asked.

"Certainly sir!" This time Magnus moved aside eagerly, for he had always liked and admired the elderly mage. In a way, a magical teacher could be considered an Initiates first master, teaching them the rudiments of magic, and while Gideon was the head of the school and didn't do much teaching, he had in fact run several of Magnus's favorite classes.

Gideon crossed the threshold, glancing around with interest, noting the pile of books on a small table in the corner of the room, which Magnus realized Aletta hadn't even glanced toward. "A bit of a surprise to find Aletta Starhawk here." He commented lightly.

"No more so than for me sir." Magnus assured him.

"Dare I ask what she wanted?"

Magnus sighed, "She came to offer me an apprenticeship in lieu of trying to win the one with Purge."

"Ah." The old man turned now to face Magnus. "I take it you turned her down?"

"With a heavy heart... yes."

Gideon chuckled. "I have some personal experience with how convincing she can be... turning her down for anything is no easy task."

"Indeed." Magnus agreed. "Sir... is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually Magnus, it's what I can do for you. I've come here to offer you some advice son." Magnus's brows shot up at that. "As I'm sure you know, I have some experience as an adventuring mage." Magnus nodded. "I can offer you some words of wisdom in that regard."

"Would you be offering these same words to Kelsi sir?" Magnus asked.

The old mage shook his head. "No... and don't go thinking that it would give you an unfair advantage. That girl has more connections in this town that you can possibly know about. I daresay Aletta is probably going to speak to her right now. Kelsi was one of her favorite students at the university."

"I didn't kno Lady Starhawk taught at your school sir." Magnus said.

Gideon nodded. "Indeed she does, though not any subjects you would have likely found interesting. Her specialty is in the subtlety of magic... your style is more... blunt force trauma. No offense intended."

"None taken sir." Magnus assured him, though he was slighlty hurt by the words. He had always thought of himself as rather clever in his use of magic.

"Magnus... what do you suppose the role of a mage is in an adventuring party?" Gideon asked him, moving toward the rooms window, hands clasped behind his back.

"Obviously sir, it's to provide magical support on adventures and such." Magnus answered quickly.

Gideon nodded, "Yes that's true, but it's also not the full role. A mage is also the group leaders advisor, much as we sometimes are to rulers in kingdoms. Our schooling is far beyond that given to most people, making us more knowledgeable about a lot of things than other people are. Therefore, leaders have relied upon mages for years... even before the coming of mana a hundred years ago... for our wisdom." The old man turned now from the window, "What we are not, Magnus, is tanks. Our role is traditionally one of support. But whatever the case, be we the leaders of the group or merely advisors to the leader... we always need others to help us carry out the tasks."

Magnus considered this for a moment. "Your saying I'll need help to go after Arkayne, that I should hire a party to accompany me."

"Yes, I think that would be prudent." Gideon responded.

"I think you might be right sir, but I find I have no idea where to even start looking for such a thing." Magnus admitted.

Gideon stepped over and stared into Magnus's eyes in a way that he would do sometimes in his classrooms when trying to drive a point home to a student. "Tell me Magnus... have you ever been to Blackguard?" The younger man shook his head. "Then how do you intend to get there if you have no idea where your going?"

Magnus considered his answer for a moment, then he smiled. "I guess I'll have to hire a guide sir." Gideon nodded and smiled himself. Frowning slightly, Magnus asked, "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a good guide, would you sir?"

Again that knowing smile. "I think I might."

-4-

Magnus approached the sprawling manor house, located about a mile north of Peacehope and was surprised to see how active it appeared. By all appearances, it was in the process of being decorated for some type of party. As he moved toward the front patio he exchanged a few greetings with the people he passed, all of them servants but from what he had heard about the owners of this place, all of them were well paid for their work.

Arriving at the front door he knocked briskly, then glanced around as he waited for one of the servants to answer the door. When it was opened, he turned back toward it, opening his mouth to speak but froze, his eyes widening at the sight of the woman standing in the doorway, smiling at him. "Magnus Jorvel," said Aribeth Moonstone, "we really must stop meeting like this. People will start to talk."

She had changed since last he saw her into a soft blue dress with wide straps rising over her shoulders, the neckline low cut, revealing the upper portions of her full, rounded breasts. Her blue black hair has been pulled up in a bun on top of her head. Magnus can't help but look her up and down, so struck by her beauty and the general presence of the woman.

Her smile widens knowingly, "See anything you like?" she asks him coyly.

He smiles to match her, "A great many things actually. Unfortunately, I'm not here to see them... or you I regret to say."

She pouted prettily at him, "You really know how to hurt a girl Magnus." Then she winked playfully at him. "So if you're not here for little old me, why are you here?"

"I was informed that there might be someone here that I could hire as a scout to help me out in the search for Arkayne." He told her.

She pursed her full lips in a way he was sure she had intended to be distracting, which it certainly was, feigning thoughtfulness. "You know what... I think there just might be." She stepped to one side and motioned for him to enter. "The two rangers in the house shouldn't be too hard to find." She walked up behind him, trailed a hand along his shoulders as she passed him, "Try the sitting room." Then she walked away, toward what he assumed to be the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder at him to make sure he was watching the sensuous sway of her hips... which of course he was... with a smile on his face.

Magnus arrived at the sitting room, was announced by a servant in coat tails and walked in to find himself in the presence of some of the most powerful men in Peacehope. Three of them to be precise, though far and away the most commanding presence in the room was Sir Donovan Moonstone himself. A tall, powerfully built man, even though he was now well into his fifties he had a full head of silvery hair, once bright red. He had a full though well trimmed beard and mustache, his green eyes sparkling with good humor as he laughed at something that had just been said by the man he was speaking to as they both stood by the fireplace. The other man was of the same mold as Donovan, though not as large and considered many to be even more handsome. Galon Eaglehart is a paladin, of an age with Donovan and also bearded. He is fit but not so large as his childhood friend, his once brown hair having gone fully white now.

As the noticed the arrival of the young mage all the men present turned to the door, the First Knight of Peacehope raising his eyesbrows questioningly, smiling a greeting at the man. "Welcome young sir, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Inquired Donovan Moonstone.

Magnus bowed slightly as he entered the room, "Beg your pardon for the interruption Sir Donovan," said the mage, "I was told I might find the man who calls himself Falcon here?"

From the corner of the room opposite Donovan and Galon another man spoke up. "That would be me." Magnus turned to face the speaker, seeing a man who looked to be human and about his age, though a head taller. He was much rougher looking than the other men in the room as well, not so well dressed or manicured as they were. His brown hair looked to be in need of a trim and his clothing, while not thread bare, was well worn. Despite this, he seemed perfectly comfortable in this setting. "What can I do for you?"

Magnus approached the well known ranger and the two men clasped forearms. "I'm Magnus Jorvel, recent graduate of Gideon Tyrell's magical school." Falcon nodded, his expression neutral, giving no indication he had heard of Magnus nor even Gideon, though certainly he had heard of the latter. "Gideon told me I might ask you about the possibility of scouting for me on a mission I've been given."

Falcon arched an eyebrow, "A recently graduated Initiate has been given a mission? What's the story there?"

"It's an assignment to earn an apprenticeship sir." Falcon smiled slightly at being referred to as a "sir", obviously it wasn't something he was accustomed to. "Gideon Tyrell thought that perhaps you might be available to act as a scout for me."

Falcon seemed to genuinely consider this for a moment, his expression pensive. Finally he cocked his head to the side and looked at Magnus, "Where are you going on this mission exactly?"

"I'm not absolutely certain as yet, but the general consensus is that this dark mage will be found in the swamps of Blackguard." Magnus informed him.

Falcon nodded, still looking thoughtful, then he glanced over Magnus's shoulder, toward the corner of the room where Lord Moonstone stood. "What are you thinking Kestrel?" Donovan asked the ranger.

"Frankly, I'm thinking I don't want to miss your birthday party. But I'm wondering how you would feel about my backup plan for the mage here." Falcon responded to the knight.

"What plan might that be?" Donovan asked, leaving the fireplace and approaching the two. He had been listening to their conversation from across the room and it was obvious he was interested. Then Magnus remembered what he had learned earlier... it had been Donovan's adventuring party, the Dragons, who had originally discovered Arkayne's evil works. Naturally, he would have an interest in anything that might wind up bringing the evil mage to justice.

"Well, just as Magnus here is a man in search of a master to further his teachings, I have an apprentice of my own that could use some real world experience." Falcon remarked to the elder knight.

Donovan nodded, as if suddenly understanding the rangers dilemma. "I see, you're concerned about your apprentice missing my party."

"I don't want to offend you sir." Falcon said. "She has long made it very clear that her family comes before her training."

"Nonsense. I'm going to have many more birthdays that she can attend in the future! I say go for it! Young man," he turned to regard Magnus with an appraising look, "go to the kitchen where I believe you will find my wife and four daughters engaged in what they will no doubt think is preparations for my birthday party tomorrow. The youngest of my daughters, Talia, is sure to be there helping her mother. Just as Kestrel here calls himself Falcon, my daughter has taken on the professional name of Tracker... you might find her more willing to help you out if you use it."

Magnus glanced from the knight to the ranger. "She's your apprentice?" He asked the younger man. Falcon nodded, "Then she should be a damn good scout I'd wager."

"I have the utmost confidence in her ability to help you out." Facon assured him.

"I'll just go to the kitchen then." Magnus decided and once both Donovan and Falcon had nodded their encouragement at him he turned to leave.

The journey to the kitchen was not a long one, but it proved rather an obstacle course for Magnus as he weaved through the plethora of servants working hard at decorating for the Lord of the houses birthday party the next day. The kitchen was a flurry of activity, most of it from servants but Magnus was able to easily pick out the quintet of lovely ladies that most definitely were not servants. The five lovelies were gathered around what looked like an oven of some kind, poring over an old leather bound book that, on closer inspection, looked to Magnus like a cookbook. As he drew nearer to these women, he could begin to make out snippets of their conversation.

"How many eggs does it say we need?" Asked a pretty girl of perhaps twenty with long, curly brown hair and grey eyes. She had an athletes build, which isn't to say she wasn't curvy but she was more slightly built than the others, her curves less defined.

"Three, it says it right there." This from a blonde woman who seemed to be leading this little meeting. She was one of the most striking women there to be certain, of average height for a woman with blonde hair and green eyes. Her undeniably curvy form was clad in a dress that seemed almost to cover so little of her gorgeous form that Magnus wondered why she wore it at all. The effect was such, however, that it was difficult to tear his eyes off of the woman and he wondered if that was a normal thing for her, even without the dress. Of course, this woman naked would be impossible not to stare at. He had to shake his head briskly to get off that train of thought, for this was most assuredly Joanna Zoltan-Moonstone, the Lady of the house.

"What have we here?" Said the tallest of the three women, turning toward Magnus. Tall and statuesque, she had luxurious red hair that hung almost all the way to her waist. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds, her lips were full and a natural red that belied the need for makeup. To Magnus, her body was as close to perfect as he had ever seen, her breasts high, full and round, her legs long and shapely. She wore a simple peasant style dress, the straps rising up over her shoulders, the neckline riding low, halfway down the upper slopes of her cleavage. This, he knew, was the Lady Ariana Moonstone. "Did you need something mage?"

Magnus straightened, squaring his shoulders, "I was sent in here by the ranger called Falcon to find someone called Tracker."

All five of the women turned toward him then, the second blonde stepping forward with a quizzical look. "I'm Talia... Tracker." Magnus was struck by how much this young woman looked like her mother. In fact, the young ranger was a twin to Joanna in almost every way save one... she was a little more well endowed than was her mother. Like the others, Talia wore a dress but unlike them hers was of a rougher style, reflective of her chosen path as a scout. The dress was soft leather, one strap rising over her left shoulder, the right side hugging the smooth round contour of her breast. The skirt, such as it was, came only to mid-thigh though tassles hung down almost to her knees. She wore a belt of multi colored beads around her slender waist. "How can I help you?"

"I'm in need of a scout for a mission I've been assigned by the guild council, your master suggested it would be a good first assignment for you as well." As he spoke, he saw a light ignite in her eyes, a telltale sign that she was excited at the prospect of an adventure.

After a moment her face fell and she turned toward her mother. "Fathers party...."

Joanna stepped forward with a smile, placing a hand on her daughters shoulder, "Will go on without you here to attend it."

"Won't be nearly as much fun though." Ariana told her younger sister with a smile.

"There will be plenty of other opportunities for such celebrations." Joanna assured Talia, though it seemed as though she was speaking to all of the girls. "A chance at real adventuring experience like this doesn't come along every day."

Magnus caught Talia's eye and nodded to one side, silently asking her to join him. She stepped over to a corner with him and they spoke quietly for a moment. "I've been tasked with hunting and bringing to justice a dark mage named Arkayne."

Talia stiffened slightly. "That name I know. All us Moonstones know who he is, though the bad blood originated a little before my time."

"Well I have a lot riding on my ability to bring him in. If I... we... are successful it will mean I get the apprenticeship I have dreamed of since starting my training as an Initiate. The local Arcanist, Purge, will take me on as his apprentice." Magnus took a deep breath, aware of her watching him expectantly, obviously knowing there was more. "There is a hitch however."

Talia nodded slightly, a smile quirking her full pink lips. "There always is."

"The capture of Arkayne has been made into a kind of contest involving me and a young woman named Kelsi Lasko. If she catches him first, then she will get the apprenticeship over me." Magnus explained.

Talia nodded her understanding. "There's nothing wrong with a little healthy competition."

"Indeed, so long as it remains healthy." Magnus agreed.

"You think she might cheat?" Talia asked.

"I can almost guarantee it." He allowed.

"Are you willing to do the same, in order to succeed?" Talia asked him, watching him carefully for a reaction.

"Only if she does so first" He told her. "I prefer fair play, but I'm not afraid to fight fire with fire if the need arises."

"Good. When do we leave?" Talia asked him.

"First thing in the morning. I need the rest of today to find another person or two to accompany us as well as arrange transportation to Inveigle." Magnus explained.

"How do you intend for us to get there?" She inquired.

"We'll cross the island to Valor and catch the zeppelin from there." He told her.

Talia frowned, "It seems it would be simpler for us to utilize a teleportation circle from the guild."

"It would be simpler." He agreed with a nod. "But the council frowns on such frivolous use of guild assets." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm supposed to do this as much on my own as possible."

"All right. I'll meet you by the front gate in the morning, say an hour after first light?" She asked him.

"Done." They shook, and then he took his leave of the Moonstone manor.

From the Moonstone family home Magnus went to the travel office in Peacehope and purchased four tickets on the zeppelin out of Valor, Peacehope's sister city across the island, to the kingdom of Inveigle. From there it was a quick jaunt over to the Fortune Hunter tavern, where he had been told it was easy to find sellswords for hire. He figured two of them would be more than sufficient to accompany him and Tracker on the journey ahead.

He stepped into the tavern and paused just inside the entrance, squinting so that his vision would adjust to the dim lighting more quickly. The interior of the place was smoky and the air was permeated with the not entirely unpleasant scents of various alcohols and some rather exotic dishes the kitchen was capable of making. This was mixed the entirely unpleasant scents of sweat, vomit and general lack of hygiene. Figuring the best place to start would be with the bartender, since such individuals usually had a good hold on their guests he headed that way. The bar was long and oak, once having been highly shines it was now scratched and worn, nearly its whole surface hidden under various moisture rings left behind by condensation. Also visible were more than a few choice words scraped into the surface of the bar and not a few blood stains. The bartender was a half orc, average height and with a crew cut, he was not muscular nor was he fat, simply of average build. His face carried more of his orcish ancestry, the ears showing slight points and the lower incisor teeth slightly overlapping the upper lip.

"Help you?" The barkeep grunted, his speach flavored with a heavy accent that Magnus had trouble pinning down. He hadn't really traveled that much, so his earfor accents hadn't yet developed.

"Maybe. I'm looking for one or two sellswords looking for work." Magnus said, leaning towards the man across the bar. "I haven't much coin, but I can pay them."

The bartender frowned, straightening up and glancing around the place. Finally he nodded and pointed toward a corner of the room. "There's a couple of them here in the tavern, some of them you can trust to work for you, others not so much."

"I'd prefer them trustworthy." Magnus said with a chuckle. "Makes things easier that way."

"Well, that all depends on how much you can afford to pay them, don't it boy?" said the bartender.

To that, Magnus had to admit. "Not too much."

Nodding, the bartender motioned to a side of the room where a group of men sat in a cluster, playing some type of card game. "Try the gent with his back to the wall over there. Calls himself Wretch."

"Why does he call himself that?" Magnus wanted to know.

"Because he is one."

Magnus frowned at that, knowing that the word the man had chosen for a name had two meanings, the first referring to a person who has the most wretched luck in the world and the other referring to a person who has the most wretched attitude or outlook. Judging by the look of the man in question, it was difficult to tell from appearances which category this man Wretch would fit into. Though he was seated on the far side of a table from Magnus, the mage could easily see that he was a rather tall man, several inches taller than Magnus himself at least. Though not a very muscular man he had the look of someone who carried a lot of weight in his frame. His skin was dark gray, much of which might have been the filth of several days, weeks, months or even years without a bath. His hair was worn long and pulled back in a ponytail, black but filthy looking. He had sharply pointed ears and when he smiled, as he was doing while he played a hand at the table, his mouth was full of very sharp teeth, though they were all yellow and rotting and growing in all different directions. His nose was both long and wide, the bridge lined with ridges like those on the nose of an orc and the nostrils flared wide, also like an orc. The tip of the nose, which thrust out sharply from the face and hooked down slightly at the end was more like that of a hobgoblin. He wore a suit of battered chainmail in bad need of repair. The name Wretch looked to fit his appearance, but it remained to be seen if it fit his attitude.

Deciding he had better get this over with, Magnus made his way across the room, attracting the attention of all the men playing cards at the table as he approached. They all looked around at him, the one called Wretch glancing up as the mage stopped next to their table. "You must be desperate to come over here boy."

Magnus shook his head. "Not desperate, just short on funds."

Wretch fanned a freshly dealt hand of cards and scrutinized them carefully before he spoke again. "What's the job?"

"I'm hunting a dark mage, it'l likely we'll need to go into the heart of Blackguard." Magnus informed him.

"I get to kill people?"

"That opportunity may arise, yes." The mage confirmed.

"I get to keep the loot from whatever I kill?"

"I can live with that." Magnus confirmed.

"You paying expenses?" Wretch glanced up at him, squinting at the mage critically.

"Within reason, yes."

Wretch was quiet a moment as he played a card and placed a bet. Then he nodded, "When do we leave?"

"First light. Meet my scout by the North gate." Magnus said. The curious looking mercenary nodded, then became more fully engrossed in his card game. Magnus, deciding he had probably done enough to prepare for his mission, turned to leave. A woman's startled scream drew his eye to the right and he stopped in mid-stride, his eyesbrows shooting up to see Kelsi Lasko in the midst of struggling with a burly bald man in a suit of chain mail armor. Instinctively the mage turned in that direction, the phrase of a spell rising immediately to his lips but he paused, knowing that any spell he cast in this close environment might just as likely hit Kelsi, or someone else for that matter.

Instead he stepped quickly across the room, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around the wrist of the hand that was holding the woman by her arm. The bald warrior turned a drunken glare on Magnus and opened his mouth to snarl some sort of warning. Magnus, however, wasn't interested in whatever this man might have to say to him. Instead he stepped back, twisting the mans wrist back on itself and breaking his hold on Kelsi. He grunted in pain, staggering after the mage and bending forward to relieve some of the strain on his wrist. Magnus reversed his direction then, stepping forward now, past the bald warrior and twisting the wrist up even farther. The move forced the man to bend over almost double and Magnus jerked hard, flipping the warrior onto his back, landing with a loud crash on the warped floorboards.

The fighter, his anger peaking, reached across his body with his undamaged hand toward Magnus. The mage kicked that hand away then using the same foot he planted it on the mans throat and pushed. The warriors eyes bugged out and he clutched blindly and Magnus's foot, trying to dislodge it. The mage stared down at him coldly, applying ever more pressure to the other mans throat, driving his point home.

"This is done. Over. Understood?" He asked of the man, who nodded frantically. "I would make you apologize to the lady, but about five seconds you're going to lose consciousness." And sure enough, the warrior passed out from lack of oxygen to his brain. Not wanting to cause any permanent damage, Magnus removed his foot fromt he mans throat and turned to Kelsi. "You all right?"

She had crossed her right arm under her breasts, massaging her left with the other hand. The motion caused her breasts to rise up, pushing more cleavage up into view. Magnus tried not to let it distract, but was only partially successful. "I was trying to recruit him to help out on the quest." She said bitterly. "He decided he wanted to seal the deal witha kiss."

"Anyone else you want to talk to, or are you done here?" he asked her.

Kelsi looked around and shivered slightly, then shook her head. "No, I'm done." Magnus offered her his arm and she took it gratefully, letting him escort her fromt he building.

Several minutes later they were walking arm in arm down one of Peacehope's busier streets. Magnus was very aware of her warmth and the softness of her pressed against his side as they moved. He had always been attracted to Kelsi, and she to him he believed, which made the current situation all the harder. "Thank you." She said softly, nodding back behind them. "For what you did back there."

He shrugged. "You looked like you needed the help."

She laughed softly. "Indeed I did. You once told me I should focus on learning to handle myself phsyically as well as magically. Apparently you were right."

"I think this is the first time I can ever remember taking no pleasure in being right about something." He told her honestly. She smiled and hugged his arm a little tighter against her.

"I wonder..." she trailed off for a moment, "...would you let me thank you properly? Before we have to actively work against one another?"

"Funny. I thought we already were." He told her.

She sighed and he found what it did to her chest to be utterly delightful. "You know what I mean. Let's have a drink, just the two of us."

"A toast to wish each other luck?" He asked lightly.

She smiled and nodded. "Exactly."

"My place or yours?" He asked her.

She laughed again. "Mine. You still live in the dorms." He said nothing to that, letting her guide him now through the streets of the city, knowing he had nowhere else to be till first light the next morning.

Kelsi, it turned out, lived in a small loft apartment in the Arena District of Peacehope. As she opened the door and let him precede her inside Magnus took a look around. The dominant piece of furniture in the place was a massive four post bed that took up most of the center of the room. The second largest by far was the armoire, which stood against the wall to the right as he came in. To the left was a small wood stove for cooking and heating and in a corner opposite it was a small table and chair. In the center of the table sat a vase with a trio of white flowers that Magnus couldn't identify. There were cupboards and shelves scattered throughout the single room apartment as well and after she had closed the door Kelsi crossed to one of these and took down a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses.

She handed them to Magnus, who proceeded to opent he wine and, setting the glasses on the tabletop, he began to pour. When he had filled each glass half way he set the bottle down and picked the glasses up, turning to find Kelsi seated on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles, leaning back languidly on her elbows. HE took a moment to savor that sight, making no effort to hide his enjoyment of it, then approached the bed and handed her one of the glasses.

"To the future, however uncertain it might be." He said, raising his glass. She raised hers in response and he leaned forward to click his against it. They drank and Kelsi quite deliberately pulled her glass away from her lips still tipped back so that the remainder of the contents splashed down her front, pooling into her cleavage. Magnus lowered his glass, his eyes resting very plainly upon the pooled wine.

"Oops." She said softly, her pink lips curling into a smile. "And me fresh out of towels."

"That is as shame." He allowed with a mock serious expression.

"However shall I clean it up?" she wondered, her soft lips pouting sensually.

"Need a hand with that?" He asked her, sounding genuinely helpful.

"Only if you can be more inventive than using your hand?" She inquired and Magnus grinned at her, bending to place the now empty wine glass on the floor beside the bed, then stepping over and lowering himself atop the sexy woman as she leaned back to sprawl across her bed. He buried his face in her ample cleavage first, taking his time in licking up the sweet wine that she had spilled there and Kelsi gasped in delight, her fingers running through his thick hair as she writhed beneath him.

"I'm afraid you've stained your top." He told her as he deftly unfastened the clasp holding the halter in place and removed it, baring her firm round breasts to his hungry gaze. They weren't large but neither were they small, perfectly proportioned to her slender frame.

As he tossed it away across the room she gasped out, "I never particularly liked that one anyway." Then she gasped wordlessly again as he took one of her large, distended nipples between his teeth and sucked at it hard. "Gods!"

"Naked, you need to be naked." He said, his voice little more than a husky growl.

Kelsi nodded, "You too!" He stood and started to strip from his robes and other clothing while she removed what remained of her own. A moment later they were both nude and lying fully upon the bed, entwined eagerly in each others arms and legs as they explored each others bodies with questing fingers and mouths. She was an energetic and inventive lover, rolling with him back and forth across the wide expanse of her plush bed, finally coming to a stop with Magnus on his back and Kelsi astride him at the knees. He looked up at her, made breathless by the wild beauty of her, then his eyes widened as the air around her svelte form seemed to shimmer slightly and within the distortion he could see, as if it were some kind of illusion, the small horns rising off her forehead and a pair of leathery wings off her back. Her skin, within the effect of this shimmering light, took on a slighlty reddish tint and she smiled, revealing a pair of almost vampiric fangs.

She bent at the waist, her hair cascading down to block her face from view as her head descended toward his waist. "What are you...?" His question ended in a loud groan as he arched his back well off the mattress at the feel of her warm, moist tongue trailing up the underside of his fully erect manhood. When she reached the tip of his erection she swirled the tip of her tongue around it, then wrapped her soft lips about it as well and sucked, her cheeks going concave as she caused exquisite pressure to build within his loins. Magnus clutched at the bedding beneath him, feeling a presence welling up inside him that he struggled every day to keep at bay.

"Yes!" she said, lifting her face and grinning up at him, sensing the power rising within him. She reached up, her fingernails looking now to have elongated into something akin to claws and raked them softly down his broad chest. He hissed, the pain distracting him from his precious mental control almost as much as her skilled mouth had done. "Let the genie out of the bottle Magnus! Let him come out to play!" Her nails continued downward over his hips and thighs as she lowered her head once more, using his rock hard penis to part her lips around it, her soft mouth descending till her nose was nestled into his wiry pubic hair. She raised her head, her lips sliding slowly up his length, her cheeks going concave again as she applied sensuous pressure to its entire length.

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep that other aspect of his personality at bay but just as his erection was about to slip from her lips she nipped the tip of it with her teeth playfully and he roared, arching his back, his eyes popping open to reveal a brilliant bluish glow that all but drowned out any other color within them. Kelsi laughed with delight as she rose up to gaze down at him, watching as his shoulders, arms and chest swelled slightly, the muscles becoming more sharply defined, the very veins beneath his skin rising to the surface and emenating that same bluish glow. The air around him shimmered as it had with her, showing his ears to have come to a sharply defined point, his skin taking on a slightly bluish caste. He was breathing hard, his lungs working like a bellows as the demon he kept at bay with a carefully cultivated will looked around the room. His eyes fell upon the form of the sex demon straddling his legs and the genie that was Magnus growled his pleasure at the sight and sat up to wrap her in his powerful arms, crushing his mouth to hers. The succubus that was also Kelsi melted into him, her fingertips tracing the now deeply chiseled muscles of his chest and abdomen as his powerful arms pulled her tighter to him, sliding her lower half along his thighs till she was pressed against him groin to groin.

"I must have you!" the Djinn of air growled as it broke the kiss, then started to trail them down the side of her face and throat, loosening his grip upon her so that she could bend backward, proving herself to be incredibly limber as he ravaged her breasts with his mouth. The djinn Magnus lowered his large hands to her shapely hips and gripped them tight, his fingers extending well up her firmly rounded buttocks and he used that grip to lift her slightly, positioining himself against her soft mound, already sopping wet. When he was in position he released his hold upon her and she screamed in delight as she dropped, being impaled upon him to the hilt, his girth filling her completely. She stayed that way for a long moment, bent backward so that her upper body was draped across his legs, relishing the feel of him inside her. Then she pulled herself upright, crushing her breasts, larger now that she had let the succubus have control, against his chest. Their mouths came together again and Magnus, growling once more deep in his chest suddenly turned and rolled the sex demon onto her back, hooking a hand under her left knee and pulling it up as high as it would go as he drove into her even more deeply. Kelsi groaned and hooked her other leg about his waist, driving her heal into his rock hard ass, urging him on, but the djinn needed no urging. He grunted as he started to drive into her, the bed actually rocking beneath them as he took her in deep, powerful lunges, driving little whimpers of pain and delight from the demon woman.

They lost all sense of time, so lost did they become in each others bodies, but finally, after what may have been minutes or hours he threw his head back and roared as he exploded within her, his seed erupting like lava from a volcano, flooding her womahood with heat. Kelsi gasped, her own orgasm taking her at almost the same time as his, her body quivering and clutching at him as waves of pleasure passed through her. When at last the sensations passed, he rolled off of her and collapsed on the bed at her side, exhausted. After a time his eyes drifted closed and Kelsi, propping herself up on her elbow, watched with a slight smile as the Djinn faded away and was once more replaced by the wholely human appearing Magnus. She extended a hand, now sporting a well manicured set of nails, the woman having returned to normal as well and trailed it lightly down his bare torso. He had fallen into a deep sleep, a satisfied smile upon his handsome face. Kelsi too smiled with satisfaction, though not so much sexual as a satisfying victory.

-5-

Magnus came to with the immediate sense that something was wrong, which was confirmed when he tried to move and realized that his arms were somehow locked over his head. He opened his eyes and found that he was still lying on his back on Kelsi's bed and when he looked up he found his wrists manacled together around a piece of her headboards frame. He tugged at the chains a few times, though he knew it would be futile.

"Yup, she played you like a harp." Said a female voice that brought his head whipping around, his eye going wide with surprise and no little embarrassment to find Talia Moonstone sitting beside him on the bed, her full pink lips turned up in mirth. "I hope you at least had fun in the process."

"Talia!" He said, his voice cracking slightly, "This isn't...."

"...what it looks like?" she finished for him, smiling more widely. "Because it looks like you had a wild night of sex that ended in a rather... unexpected way." As she said this her green eyes trailed suggestively down his still nude form, lingering on his manhood for a moment before rising back to meet his own gaze.

"Oh..." he smiled slightly, "...then it's exactly what it looks like."

"Safe to assume that the ah..." she paused for effect, "...competition is responsible for this?"

He nodded. "Kelsi Lasko. Now that I think about it... she probably used Allurimancy on me!"

Talia laughed. "How many men have used that as an excuse for the tryst they would just as soon forget?" He colored a little bit with embarrassment. "Need help with those?" she asked him, leaning forward to get a closer look at the manacles on his wrists. The motion brought her incredible breasts within inches of his face and he felt an involuntary stirring in his groin, which he knew would make this situation even more embarrassing.

"No!" She leaned back, raising her delicate brows in surprise at the sharpness in his tone. He swallowed and took a moment to get his emotions in check. "Thank you, I can handle it." He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing on his inner strength, then uttered, "Recludam." With a soft metallic click the manacles unlatched and fell away. Talia raised her brows again, suitably impressed, and Magnus felt he had at least somewhat redeemed himself. "How did you know I was here?"

"We were supposed to meet at first light, remember? When you didn't show up at the North gate but that swine Wretch did I knew something was wrong, so I came looking." She shook her head. "And by the way... Wretch? Really?"

He shrugged. "I can't afford to be too choosy." He sat up, not bothering to try to cover himself up since she had already seen everything he had to offer. Glancing around he foudn his clothing in a neatly folded pile on a nearby chair. "How did you find me here of all places?"

She sighed. "I'm a scout remember? I track for a living. It wasn't actually all that hard. A great many people saw you leave with Kelsi from that tavern last night."

"Any idea how far ahead of us she is?" He asked.

Tracker shook her head. "None I'm afraid. She might have left last night right after she finished with you here. I know that you wanted to leave at first light and that was three hours ago."

He cursed under his breath as he finished dressing quickly, then he turned to her. "Is Wretch still waiting for us?"

"Are you kidding? When he learned he was to be traveling with a Moonstone he thought he had struck gold." She shook her head, shivering with apparent disgust. "He won't be that easy to get rid of now."

"How fast can you get us to Valor?" He asked her.

"Over land?" She was hinting, of course, that he had connections in the guild that might make that trip far quicker. He had already decided that he didn't want to do that, this mission he had to do on his own.

"Yes, over land."

She sighed. "Six hours is the fastest route I know." She told him.

"Then let's go, we haven't any time to lose."

Magnus and Talia picked up Wretch at the North gate then headed north across the island of Algeron as fast as they could on foot. Talia had naysayed Magnus's suggestion of horses, saying that she knew shortcuts through the mountains that cut across the center of the island, dividing north from south that horses wouldn't be able to go through. Not for the first time Magnus was thankful he had long ago chosen to keep himself in good physical shape because the pace that Talia set was brutal... a fast run all the way to the mountains. She knew of a series of tunnels that got them through the narrow mountain range in less than three hours and then they were on to the north, heading toward Valor, which lay halfway between the mountains and the northern shore of the island, unlike Peacehope, which was right on the Southern shore.

They were still a good hour from the city when another wrench was thrown into Magnus's plan. They had just left the wilderness trails and moved up onto the trade road which would lead them into the heart of Valor when a group of five men emerged from the woods to block their path. The trio came to a halt by necessity, for the five men were already carrying their weapons. Magnus cursed colorfully when he recognized the leader of this five person troupe as the bald warrior who he had thought to be accosting Kelsi the night before. Now he realized that the whole thing had been a setup from start to finish.

"You again." The bald man snarled, noticing Magnus at about the same time. "I've got a score to settle with you little man."

The bald warrior was the largest of the five men, the other four, all human, being rather diminutive by comparison to him. The others all wore some version of leather armor and wielded sub par weapons, much of it looking rusty and about to fall apart.

"You know this creep?" Talia asked Magnus, eyeing the bald man distastefully.

The bald warrior, noticing Talia now for the first time, grinned as he ran his eyes over the buckskin clad beauty. "Damn! We done got us a bonus on this job boys! She's gonna fun to play with once we finish these other two."

Talia rolled her eyes and looked at Magnus. "I'm already bored with this, and we really haven't got the time."

The mage smiled slightly. "Agreed." Gesturing toward the ground at the feet of the five warriors, the mage said softly, "Habeto eas solus." Recognizing the casting of a spell, the five men responded as though to an attack, attempting to lunge forward, but their feet were firmly stuck to the ground beneath them. The bald man barely managed to keep his footing but the two men to either side of him shouted in surprise as they fell face down on the road, becoming stuck fast everywhere they touched. The two men to the rear were able to keep their feet as well, though one had to brace himself against the leader.

Grinning her approval at Magnus, the blonde ranger started to move around the group to the right, Wretch and Magnus moving around to the left. It was Wretch who spotted the bald leader moving fertively, producing a small phial from within the chinks of his armor. The multi-racial warrior made a lunge for the small phial, but the bald man succeeded in pulling the cork and turned the small bottle upside down, dumping its contents onto the ground at their feet. Instantly their feet were freed from the ground as Magnus's spell was negated and the bald man lunged to his left, wrapping one burly arm about Talia's slender waist and lifting her off the ground as he spun away from the others. The scout cried out in surprise, kicking and squirming as the bald warrior spun and slammed her bodily against the trunk of a tree, the back of her head cracking against the rough bark, causing her vision to swim.

The other two men who had kept their feet each lunged at the other two, one for Magnus the other for Wretch. The former danced back out of the way of his opponent, muttering a familiar spell under his breath that caused his hands to start crackling with electricity. Seeing this, the man facing him paused warily and began to circle.

"Not too late to give this folly up friend." Magnus told him, watching Wretch from the corner of his eye. The other combatant had made a rough swing at his hired sword and Wretch had ducked easily beneath it. Now the other man drew forth a knife and lunged again, swiping at Wretch at throat level. Wretch leaned back, avoiding the slice and drawing forth a short sword from his waist, the blade flashing upward. There was a spray of red and the other man screamed as he staggered back, cradling the stump where his hand had been moments before. The first man had seen his friend lose his hand and the sight distracted him for a critical moment that was all Magnus needed to step in and discharge and electrical burst against the side of the mans head. He crumpled without so much as a whimper.

Talia's vision swam for a moment, during which time she felt the burly bald warrior yank her sword from her scabbard and toss it away. Then he came forward and pinned her to the tree with his body, growling his delight at the feel of her lush form pressed against his. The foul smell of the man cleared her head and the feel of his hand slidind up her waist toward her breast stiffened her resolve. Snarling, she lunged forward, driving her forehead into his face with all the force he could muster. He grunted, staggering back and raising his hands to his nose which was spurting blood.

"You bidge! You brog my dose!" he cried, tearas streaming from his eyes. As he had staggered back, releasing the scout she staggered forward and, not giving him any time to recover, drove a foot up between his legs as hard as she could manage. His eyes bugged out and his hands dropped to his crotch, his bloody nose forgotten. His knees came together comically, then buckled and he toppled to the ground, mewling like a kitten. Talia walked past him to retrieve her sword, slipping back into her scabbard. As she turned to rejoin Magnus and Wretch she spit on the mans bald head in passing.

The two men who had fallen and been stuck to the ground hadn't yet gotten to their feet and seeing their three companions so quickly bested they opted to stay on the ground, rolling onto their bellies and locking their fingers behind their heads as a sign of surrender.

"Just stay there till you can't hear us anymore." Magnus told them, then the trio took off at a run, continuing to the city.

The sun was starting to dip behind the trees to the West as the trio dashed into the vast clearing in which the northern algeron Capitol of Valor had been built. To their right, about a half-mile outside the city gate, was a tower that stood a good three hundred feet high and just pulling away from it was what looked to be a seafaring vessel hanging beneath a vast oblong balloon of hot air. It was propelled, Magnus knew, by a magically occurring wind force that was channeled through a series of tubes that grew ever smaller till it blew out the back of the ship from a tube less then six inches wide. That design, enacted by the surprisingly crafty goblins, caused the wind to push the ship at speeds considerably faster than any ocean faring vessel was currently capable of.

"No!" The mage groaned, coming a stop a few yards into the clearing. Tracker and Wretch stopped around him. "Damn it!" The blonde scout and their multi-racial sellsword each looked up at the departing vessel as well. "I had intended us to be on that zeppelin!"

"No doubt that's why Kelsi tried so hard to... delay us." Talia reasoned, trying to be delicate with her wording. "Wouldn't be surprised if she's on that ship herself right now."

Magnus nodded, not trusting his voice to speak at the moment. It was Wretch that asked, "So now what?"

Magnus glanced around, saw a small group of city guards near the South gate of Valor watching them. He shook his head. "I guess we travel the old fashioned way, by sea."

"Valor isn't an oceanside community." Talia reminded him.

He nodded. "I'm aware, but it isn't too far to the coast. We'll go there and charter a boat to Inveigle. She'll get there ahead of us, but she'll still have to find him when she arrives, and that won't be easy."

Talia smiled slightly, liking his spirit. "I can get us to the coast from here in... two hours."

Magnus nodded and glanced at Wretch. The sellsword rolled his eyes, not relishing the thought of another run through the wilderness, but nodded gamely. "Let's move." The mage said, then fell in behind Talia as she took off to the west at a run, angling around Valor and heading toward a coastal town where they might find a means to the next leg of their journey.

The Paladin and the Ranger

-1-

It was a beautiful day... the sun was shining, birds were singing. Her family was together for the first time in she couldn't remember how many years. They had been brought together by an occasion worth celebrating, the fifty-fifth birthday of her father, Sir Donovan Moonstone. Lady Ariana, the eldest daughter of the First Knight of Peacehope, couldn't remember being so happy. She and her sisters, minus Talia of course, she had been called away on business and left at first light that very morning, were finishing up the last of the decorations for what they hoped would be a memorable surprise party.

"What if he gets back before we're done here?" Krystal, the youngest of the sisters still at home today, fretted as she assisted their step-mother, Lady Joanna del Zoltan-Moonstone in hanging a garland around the walls of the sitting room.

Joanna, though close to fifty herself now, didn't look a day over twenty-five, was a strikingly beautiful woman with long, flowing blonde hair and vibrant green eyes. She had the sort of body that set mens hearts to pounding in their chests and a face that had been compared on more than one occasion to that of an angel. Normally Joanna stood out in a crowd, but among this company she was, if anything, an equal. She had come to terms with that fact many years ago, for her love of these girls, and her own daughter who had only that morning left to assist a young mage in his quest, was equal to her love of their father. "I gave Gar and Galon a mission and you know those two. They'll enact that mission with military precision. Besides," she glanced over her shoulder at where Sasha and Ariana stood together, uncoiling the garland that their sister and step-mother were hanging, "they'd as soon die as let me down."

"Only because they fear facing your wrath." Sasha quipped and all four women laughed. Of the four Moonstone sisters Sasha was perhaps the most unique and though no blood relation to her step-mother, the two women shared a great deal in common with one another. Not only were they both uncommonly beautiful women, though they were quite opposite in appearance, they both shared a love of dance, magic and... though Joanna wasn't as likely to admit this aspect as Sasha... men. Sasha was a tall, alluring beauty with silken, raven black hair that hung to her waist and a curvaceous form that was soft but still managed to look firm and toned. Her skin, while soft and flawless, was darker than that of her sisters and not from having been bronzed under the sun. Sasha is half gypsy, her mother having been a gypsy witch that was originally hired as a nanny for a still newborn Ariana. Sasha's mother had bewitched Donovan and Sasha had been the result of that enchantment, which had ended when his two closest friends, Galon Eaglehart and Wolfgar Graybeard had discovered the woman's deception and killed the witch.

All four women suddenly stopped what they were doing and looked toward the door leading out to the front patio. They had heard a carriage pulling up outside and while they weren't concerned about this being Donovan returning, as he never rode in a carriage if a saddle was available, none of them was expecting visitors till much later, when the party was to start. They all glanced around at each other curiously as they heard what sounded like at least four people step up onto the patio and approach the front door. Ariana set down her length of the garland and moved to the window, pushing aside the drapery with one finger just as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. Three pairs of eyes were turned to her and when she smiled they all breathed a sigh of relief. Their fear had been that this was some Algeronian citizen with a problem come to seek the aid of the islands greatest hero. They all knew Donovan well enough to know that their plans of a birthday party would be dashed by such an event.

When Ariana let the curtain fall back into place and fairly skipped to the front door with a radiant smile, Joanna, Krystel and Sasha all looked at one another and said, in unison, "Avalon." When the flame haired beauty opened the door to reveal a man standing in the doorway who was tall and broad with short cropped black hair and a handsome face that would have looked at home on a statue of an Olympian god, the three women nodded and smiled, then went back to their decorating.

Sir Avalon Charm was a knight who had come to Algeron with his family several years earlier. His father, a diplomat back in their home kingdom of Inveigle, had accepted a position as Algeron's ambassador to Inveigle and he and his family had settled in Peacehope. For the first few years, Avalon had earned a bit of a reputation as a ladies man, a well earned reputation as well. But when Ariana had returned home from her brief stint as an officer in the Algeronian military the handsome young knight had fallen head over heels in love with her. He had begun actively trying to court the redheaded paladin and at first she had been resistant to his charms but eventually he had won her over. Almost a year ago they had gotten engaged.

Ariana threw herself at her betrothed, who laughed and caught her about her waspish waist, lifting her into the air and twirling her around as he came into the house. He was followed by three smiling people who proved to be Avalon's family, his parents Lord Phillip and Lady Gwendolyn, and his sister Charity. Lord Phillip was a human in his sixties, of average height and robust, which is to say fat. His black hair was shot through with gray and he had a well trimmed beard and mustache. He was clad in the finest imported silks to be found in Peacehope and had a ring of platinum and various precious gems on each finger. His wife, Gwen as she was most commonly referred, was once an attractive woman and still held vestiges of that, though now into her sixties as well. Also of average height, her hair had long since gone silver and her body, once lush and shapely, had mostly succumbed now to the ravages of time. Charity was more an example of what her mother had once been, though more cute than beautiful she had the same raven black hair as the rest of the family, worn in a long plait down the middle of her back. Her skin was pale and looked as though it would burn easily, a smattering of freckles crossed the bridge of her nose and her build was slender with smallish breasts, a slender waist and hips that were wide enough to show curve but not wide enough to be considered attractive by most men. But then, Charity had never been concerned with what most men found attractive, and as she walked into the room she and Krystel shared a covert smile.

"Milords, you're early, the party doesn't begin for several hours yet." Joanna said from where she stood atop a dining chair, allowing her to more easily reach the top of the wall where she was hanging the garland. She was aware of Lord Phillips eyes upon her, not that she could blame the man. Joanna knew what she looked like and on most occasions she welcomed the attention of men, though far less since marrying Donovan than she had once done. The ambassadors' gaze was drawn to her simply because as she stood upon the chair with her arms raised it did interesting things to her profile, most especially her firmly rounded breasts and flat stomach.

If she noticed her husbands distraction, the Lady Gwen made no mention of it. "We are aware of that Lady Joanna, but a little bird..." here she glanced at her sone, standing beside the door and smiling with his arm about the waist of his betrothed, who in turn had a hand resting on his shoulder, "...told me you might have had some issue in the kitchen yesterday preparing the food for the festivities."

Joanna finished hanging the garland and stepped lightly from the chair, her green eyes dancing with mirth as she glanced at Avalon. "Some birds sing a little too loudly if you ask me." Then she sighed, "Still, I'd be lying if I said we hadn't had any such trouble." She lowered her voice and said in a stage whisper, "Donnies birthday cake is an absolute disaster!"

Gwen laughed. "Perhaps I can see what I might do to help in that regard? After all," she glanced at her husband who was happily eyeing all the female curves in the room, "I haven't always been a nobleman's wife."

"I would appreciate any help you might give." Joanna said graciously, though her step-daughters knew her well enough to know that she felt somewhat slighted. Joanna had a jealous streak in her, and the thought that another woman might be able to do something better than her would irk her, though she was exceptional at hiding it.

Gwendolyn nodded and started pushing the sleeves of her dress up to her elbows as she crossed the room toward the kitchen. She paused half way and looked back, "Come on you two!" She said to Charity and Ariana. The paladin raised her eyebrows questioningly, to which the old woman said, "If you're to marry my son, you'll by Gods know how to cook!" Then she turned to her own daughter, "And how do you intend to find a man if you can't even bake a simple cake?" With that she turned and strode from the room.

Ariana detached herself reluctantly from Avalon's side and moved to follow his mother, but not before he reached out and swatted her firm ass playfully. She shot him a grin over her shoulder before slipping an arm around the shoulders of his younger sister and pulling her along toward the kitchen too. Before she disappeared through the door Charity cast a glance back at Krystel, who was watching her go.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment, then Lord Phillip spoke up in a flippant sort of tone. "She gives new meaning to the term dowager, doesn't she?" They all laughed and with the help of the ambassador and his knight son the preparations for the party carried on.

With the unexpected but not unwelcome assistance of the Charm family the rest of the preparations for Donovan's party went off without a hitch. All the Moonstone women were dressed to the nines by the time the guests started to arrive and the arrival of the man of honor was still a good hour away. Ariana and Joanna, as the senior women present in the house, were sharing the greeting duties while Krystel and Sasha made the rounds, chatting with everyone. Avalon was never far from Ariana's side and she was thankful for that, for though she was well versed in the nuances of etiquette, she was never very comfortable in such settings. His support was much appreciated, and she was determined to show him just how much as soon as they could get a few quiet moments together.

One of the last guests to arrive did so in a magnificently appointed carriage of royal blue with silver adornments. The carriage was pulled by six gorgeous black horses and when she saw the team pulling up on the street that ran along the property where Moonstone Manor rested Joanna leaned toward Ariana and scowled, asking, "Who invited her?"

Ariana, having anticipated this conversation, was ready for it. "I did." Her step-mothers face darkened angrily and she opened her mouth to retort, but Ariana cut across her blithely. "I know you don't much care for her, but she's been a good friend to our family. When Alison, Krystel's mother, got sick it was around the same time as she lost her husband so, considering how closely they worked together, it was only natural that she and father should turn to each other for comfort. When father met you she graciously stepped aside, knowing that a public relationship between the two of them would never have worked anyway. She's never been anything but nice to you mother..." Joanna winced at that, knowing that Ariana only ever called her mother when she was trying to make a point, "...and besides, she is Father's boss."

"She's also his former lover. You don't see me inviting former lovers to my birthday parties do you?" Joanna demanded.

Ariana couldn't help a little smirk. "Well... it doesn't help that most of the lovers you had before father you either can't remember or are dead. I mean, there was Skull. Do you expect me to believe that if you knew how to get in touch with him you wouldn't be at least a little tempted?" The door to the carriage was opening and one of the guards who had been riding escort had come forward to assist the passenger to disembark. Ariana leaned closer to her step-mother. "And need I remind you that not only is he legitimately an enemy of fathers, but you were magically enslaved to him at the time?"

"All right... point made." Joanna conceded.

Ariana straightened and smiled as she saw Countess Penelope Shroude climbing gracefully from her carriage. "Play nice."

Joanna's eyes had narrowed slightly at sight of the one woman in all of Peacehope that she felt worthy of considering a true rival. "Don't expect me to like it."

Ariana couldn't quite keep the smile on her full lips from spreading further. As the ruler of Peacehope stepped from the carriage the paladin moved forward to greet her. Countess Shroude was a high elf, one of the few on the island. A tall, statuesque woman with long, flowing black hair and sparkling violet eyes she had a cameo face with full, pouty lips, high cheekbones and the delicately pointed ears common to her race. Her breasts were full and firmly round, her stomach slightly distended, her hips wide and sensuous. When she moved it was with a grace that exuded sexuality and she favored dresses that showed her charms to their best advantage. Ariana was struck suddenly by how alike the Countess and her step-mother actually were! No wonder they didn't get along!

"Ana!" The Countess nearly gushed at her as she rushed forward to embrace the redhead. Ariana smiled, genuinely happy to see the woman and the Countess's smile was genuine as well. When they parted from the embrace and stepped back, Ariana noticed movement behind the elf and saw more people climbing from inside the carriage. Noticing her attention diverted, the Countess turned and said, "I hope you don't mind. Tyffani and her girls were visiting and wanted to come pay their respects."

As the three women who had apparently shared the carriage with the Countess climbed out Ariana's face brightened considerably. "Of course I don't mind!" She left Penelope standing on the path leading up to the front of the house and rushed to the carriage, reaching it just as a woman of her age stepped down. She was a few inches shorter than Ariana, but no less shapely. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes a vibrant blue and when she saw the redhead approaching she smiled broadly. "Lorilei!" The paladin cried, exultant to see her old friend.

"Ariana!" The two women came together in an embrace, neither of them having seen the other for a number of years. Standing beside Lorilei and smiling happily at seeing this reunion was Lorilei's mother, Duchess Tyffani Rethbourne, wife of Duke Ulian Rethbourne who was himself the ruler of Peacheopes sister city of Valor. Because she looked about twenty years younger than her fifty years of age, Tyffani looked more like Lorileis sister than her mother. This was the result of an as yet unexplained immortality, something the mages of the island had been studying for some time. When Tyffani had hit the age of thirty she had stopped aging after being revived from a fatal accident. She had been truly dead and a priest brought her back... from that point on she had stopped aging.

A woman in the uniform of an officer of the Valor military stepped from the carriage last and on seeing her Ariana's eyes widened. "That can't be..." she glanced from Lorilei to Tyffani, "...Kirsten?" Both blonde woman smiled and nodded. Kirsten Rethbourne, whom Ariana hadn't seen in more than six years, was a woman of small stature but great beauty. She had always been a bit of a tomboy and had apparently chosen to walk the path of a soldier, her noble status having given her the rank of lieutenant. She had long brown hair, worn in a bun while in uniform and the compact build of a woman who worked out on a regular basis. The uniform did nothing to conceal her womanly curves however, a legacy passed on to both sisters by their mother.

"Hello Ariana." Kirsten said with a slight smile. She had always been more reserved than her siblings. Ariana hugged the other girl as well, then glanced up into the carriage.

"Talon isn't with you?" She asked, trying to sound merely curious but Lorilei smiled knowingly. Her brother and Ariana had a... history, and not all of it was good.

"He had other demands on his time." Lorilei said.

"Ariana!" Called Joanna from the patio. The paladin turned and saw her step-mother standing now next to the Countess, who had proceeded down the path to the house on her own. "It's nearly time! We should get everyone ready for your fathers arrival!"

"She's right! Come inside." Ariana turned to the driver, "Carriages are being parked in a clearing about a half mile down the road. There's food and drink there for you, and someone will inform you when the Countess is ready to leave." The driver nodded and lashed the reins against his team, getting it moving. Stepping over, she hooked her arm through Lorileis. "Come on, you simply must meet Avalon!"

"Oh yes... the fiance!" Lorilei said and the two women proceeded to chat happily as they moved up toward the house.

If Sir Donovan Moonstone had suspected a surprise party he put up a good show of it for his wife and daughters as he walked in and they, along with the more than fifty people in attendance all screamed "surprise" at him. He staggered back, eyes wide and a smile across his handsome face, a hand placed over his heart on mock fright. Entering behind him were his oldest friends, Galon Eaglehart and Wolfgar Graybeard. He was immediately innundated by wellwishers and back slappers, smiling the whole while. Throughout the festivities he kept up a steady stream of good cheer.

As the party started to wind down a bit and people were considering saying their goodbyes, Joanna made an announcement. "Wait, everyone! Before you leave... there is one final present that Sasha and I have prepared for Donovan's birthday... but this is the best kind of present, because you all get to enjoy it! Please wait a few moments while we prepare." That said Joanna and Sasha excused themselves and started up the stairs to the second or third level of the house. Ariana, who had been talking animatedly up to that point with both her dear friend Lorilei and her betrothed, knew this to be her cue and stepped to the center of the sitting room where most of the days festivities had taken place.

"Everyone!" She called and all eyes turned to her, someone giving a low, appreciative wolf whistle at sight of the sexy redhead in her low cut green dress. Ariana arched a brow and turned to glare at a tall man with a full head of shaggy brown hair, badly in need of shave. He was wearing leathers rather than a suit of some kind, making him the most underdressed guest in the house, but everyone here knew him and no one here expected anything else of this particular man. "Careful Falcon, my man is the jealous type!" The ranger grinned and raised a tankard in the direction of Avalon who raised his fists in a mock gesture of anger. Once more addressing the crowd, Ariana said, "In order for this last surprise to go off without a hitch, we need everyone to move outside into the back yard. There has already been seating arranged out there so... please...." She started shooing people toward the kitchen and the door that led from there out to the rear of house.

As Ariana started to follow the crowd out a familiar voice said, right next to her ear, "You really do look stunning you know."

She turned her head and smiled at the ranger who had been her friend for quite a few years now, ever since he had been apprenticed to her uncle Rolin. "Thank you Kestrel."

Falcon nodded, then motioned toward the stairs where the two women had disappeared, "So what's this surprise?"

Ariana smiled knowingly. "Oh... I think you'll appreciate it." She grabbed his arm and leaned over so that her lips were very close to his ear, so close that she could see the slight points that alluded to his wild elf mother. "Make sure you sit near the front if you want the full effect." He frowned slightly but said nothing more as he followed her out into the back yard.

The seats she mentioned were single chairs that had been arranged in a loose half circle, all facing the back door of the house. Behind the six rows of seats, which had been placed a good distance apart from each other, a small stage had been erected upon which a four piece band stood at the ready. There was a some organized chaos for a few moments as people looked for seats, Ariana and Krystel moving among them, asking that the men be allowed to sit near the front while the women, who they assured weren't as likely to enjoy the spectacle to come, could sit in the rear and watch their husbands, sons and brothers make fools of themselves.

Once everyone was appropriately settled in their chairs a hush fell over the crowd and Ariana moved off to one side, her emerald eyes playing over the grouping. Her father was seated right up at the front center of the spectators, Galon and Gar seated behind and slightly to either side of him. Falcon, she noted with a wry smirk, had managed to get a spot right up front as well. Then there was a sound that echoed out from within the main house, a jingling noise that cued the band to start playing, which they did, a slow tune at first that would gradually pick up pace over the next few minutes. No sooner had the music started and the jingling stopped then a pair of long, very shapely legs appeared, one darkly tanned the other nicely bronzed, hooking around either side of the door frame. In unison the two legs moved, the soles of th feet going flat against the smooth wood surface as they moved slowly up and down, caressing the door frame. All was quiet in the crowd, the mens eyes riveted upon the two bare legs.

Then Joanna and Sasha whirled into view, coming to a stop inside the doorframe back to back, looking out and smiling at the collected audience. They had both changed from their party dresses, which in the case of both women had been fairly provocative already and were now clad in something akin to a gypsy side show, halter style tops that were daringly low cut and left their stomachs and waists bare and skirts that rode low on their shapely hips and were slit up each side so if they took even the slightest step one or both of their shapely legs was prominently displayed. They were both also wearing bracelets, necklaces and anklets that sparkled brightly in the mid-day sun. Sasha's outfit was a rich blue with purple highlights while Joanna's was pink and white. Ariana had no doubt that her sister, the gypsy in the family, had designed these particular outfits. She had been taught not only to dance by Joanna, but also how to design and make her own clothing, something she enjoyed doind very much.

As the music continued to play the two women leaned forward, keeping their butts pressed together and pressed their chests against the doorframe on either side, their breasts sliding out around the edges of the frame as they slid their way down and back up. Someone, Ariana thought perhaps it was Galon, moaned his appreciation of the view and she had to bite back a laugh. She sought and found Avalon in the crowd, three rows back and smiled when she saw that he was watching her and not her sister and step-mother. She gave him a pleased nod, a silent "good boy" which he acknowledged with a smile.

The two dancers were moving again and Ariana returned her attention there, watching as Joanna and Sasha, side by side, their steps exactly in sink, their hips moving in sensuous time with the music sashayed down from the back porch into the yard. Here they parted and their performances ceased being syncronous as they started to work the crowd, Joanna going straight for her husband and sliding into his lap, straddling him, facing him as she ground her hips against his, her breasts as well. Her father was smiling widely, his eyes only for his wife though he knew that every man who could easily see was watching. Then she was up again, twirling away from him to drape herself erotically across Galon, while reaching out with one foot to slide it suggestively up Gar's calf. The dwarf cleared his throat loudly and tried desperately to not look embarrassed, which brought a guffaw from most of the crowd, including Ariana.

Her sister, upon leaving the porch, had gone straight for Falcon. No surprise there, Ariana thought, for all of the sisters had, atsome point, harbored feelings for the ranger, including herself. Kestrel, for his part, thoroughly enjoyed having the shapely gypsy in his lap grinding against him. Ariana watched as Sasha danced away from the ranger, his blue eyes following her and then she frowned as the gypsy, who by now had taken to calling herself Kizmet professionally, planted herself firmly in the lap of Avalon Charm, her buttocks pressed right back into his groin. Avalon looked somewhat embarrassed and glanced in the paladins direction apologetically. Sasha leaned back against him, her head on his shoulder and reached up with one hand, placing a finger aside his jaw and turning his face to hers. She leaned in as though to kiss him, then pushed his face away. She leaned forward as though to stand up but had simultaneously reached down and taken his wrists in her hands, which she then brought up around her, planting his hands firmly on her breasts and making a show of it looking like Avalon had pulled her back into his lap. With a mock angry look on her face she flung his hands away and stalked off, much sway in her hips. As she moved away she glanced over at Ariana and smiled at the anger in her older sisters eyes.

'You and I will have to have a little chat later, sis.' Ariana thought to herself. She moved her gaze to meet that of her betrothed and Avalon shrugged an apology at her. She graced him with a smile, letting him know she understood that it was not his doing. The music and dancing continued in that manner for several minutes, the women making the rounds of the men and at one point Ariana thought poor Phillip Charm might have a heart attack when Joanna slithered up into his lap, her breasts rubbing firmly against his body the entire way. There was also a chance that Gwendolyn Charm might have come out of her seat on that one, but Ariana glanced over in her direction and could have sworn she leaned over to the Countess and said "Better her than me."

The music started to wind down now and the two women danced their way back to the front of the crowd. As the drummer built the music to its final crescendo the two women spun rapidly in place for a moment and then, as the music died, then flung themselves at the closest men. Joanna draped herself backward across the lap of Falcon while Sasha ended up similarly draped across Galon. Ariana watched with a bemused expression as Falcon stared down at the scantily clad beauty across his lap, a woman she happened to know he had fantasized about on more than one occasion. He swallowed and tentatively caressed her flat stomach with his right hand, sliding it up toward her bosom.

"Ahem." Donovan cleared his throat loudly, raising an eyebrow at the ranger who quickly jerked his hand away and then helped the impishly smling Joanna to stand. All the men then came to their feet, applauding the show and most of the women did as well, though far less enthusiastically. At that point the main party was over and people started to leave, except those who were closest to the family.

-2-

"Damn I like that dress!" Avalon commented as he followed Ariana into stables located on the farthest corner of the back yard. She had told her family that she wanted to check on Thunder, her horse and Avalon had volunteered to go with her. She knew her sisters weren't fooled but they understood that appearances had to be maintained. Her father had already gone inside with Joanna. After a last glance to make certain no one else was heading in their direction, Ariana turned to face him with a smile that was full of promise.

"I wore this one knowing you would be coming today." She informed him, lifting her arms and lacing her hands behind her head, then turning to display her voluptuous profile to him. Avalons' smile only widened at the dilectable view. The dress was the same green as her eyes, as so many of her gowns were as it was her favorite color. It was strapless and backless, low cut enough in the front that it showed off not only the upper slopes of her incredible breasts but also the sides of them as well. The skirt was ankle length, slit up one side to her hip and when she posed for him one ver long, shapely leg was exposed. She had her lustrous, fiery red hair pinned up on top of her head loosely and in all Avalon didn't think there was a more delicious looking sight within a thousand miles, which would encompass all of Algeron.

He stepped up behind her, his fingers caressing the bare flesh of her lower back and making her shiver with desire as he slipped his hands into the dress from behind, reaching around to caress her firm, flat stomach. She leaned back against him, molding the back of her luscious body his front, enjoying the feel of his muscular form against her. "By the Gods you are beautiful!" She smiled as his head dropped, kissing her bare shoulder then moving toward her neck and up the side of her face. Ariana reached up and curled her fingers in his thick though short black hair, sighing happily as his hands slid upward beneath dress, finding her large breasts and squeezing them. Her nipples hardened under his palms and he swore they could cut glass! "I need you... right now!" He moaned into her ear.

"Who's stopping you?" She asked him and he needed no further encouragement. He took his hands from within her dress and turned her around to face him, their mouths coming together passionately as their bodies collided with an almost audible impact. His arms encircled her as her hands came up to cradle his face. He marveled at how soft and pliant her lips were as he ran his tongue over them. Ariana opened her mouth, accepting his probing organ and his hands moved up her bare back to the hair pinned on top of her head, releasing it to cascade like a fiery river of lava down her back. He lowered his arms again, circling her narrow waist and she gasped with delight as he jerked her tight against him then backed her against the wall, pinning her there with his body.

"What is holding the front of your dress up?" he asked as he lowered his face, kissing his way down her cleavage and trying to use his chin to push the apparently unsupported front of her dress down.

"Sheer talent." She said with a wanton smile and he grinned in return, straightening back up and finding her soft lips with his own once more. His hands moved up from her waist then, exploring her front, trying to unravel the mystery of her dresses bodice with a lot groping and kneading of pliant flesh. Finally he realized that the bodice had been reinforced with wire to help it stand up and customized to her rather... impressive proportions. He hesitated before bending it down, not wanting to damage her gown.

"Do it!" she gasped and he did, bending the front of her dress down and baring her glorious breasts to his hungry gaze. Moaning his delight he lowered his head to those firm globes and kissed his way toward one of her large nipples, sucking the bud into his mouth and chewing on it softly. She gasped, smiling as she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling his hands caressing her hips, pulling her snugly against his groin. Suddenly the paladin saw movement behind the knight and a man stepped from the shadows deeper in the stables, his eyes alight with lust, his mouth quirked in a knowing smile. "What the hell?"

Hearing the alarm in her voice, Avalon straightened and, seeing her looking behind him turned to see what had alarmed her. The man from the shadows stepped in quickly and swung what looked like a mace, catching the human knight on the shoulder and sending him staggering to his knees. The return swing was intended to catch Ariana upside the head, no doubt the man thought to knock her unconscious and then enact his fantasies upon her. She disappointed him by ducking beneath the swing and coming up with a balled fist under his chin. The impact rocked him back on his heels and he staggered into one of the stall doors, startling the horse within. The man came back, snarling a curse and growling, "I'm going to kill you wench!"

Something like anger only more primal flashed through her eyes as she stepped forward to meet the man. Avalon, only now climbing to his feet and favoring his left arm, which he thought might be broken laughed harshly. "Now you've done it!"

The man thrust his mace at Ariana, aiming for her still bared breasts. The paladin stepped to the side and twisted, catching the haft of the mace just under the rounded head with her left hand. Her right shot forward, slamming against the handle just above his hand, knocking it from him grasp. Gripping the mace in both hands Ariana spun, putting as much force and momentum as she could behind the swing and clobbered their assailant with his own weapon, the mace emitting a satisfying thump against his upper arm. He shouted in pain and fell to the side. "Never call me a wench!" She growled down at him.

"Hold woman!" A new voice growled at her and she turned her head to see that Avalon had never managed to stand back up. He was kneeling now in front of the strangest looking man the paladin had ever seen. He was human height but certainly not human, his skin was black as a starless night, his hair white with a slight bluish tint to it and he wore a suit of armor composed of some non reflective leather. His ears were pointed like those of a high elf and while he was not a physically large man, he was obviously fit and moved with a grace usually common to dancers, marking him in her mind as a very dangerous individual. "You will cease resisting or your boyfriend here will die a most unfortunate death!" She saw the long, serrated blade the dark skinned elf was holding to Avalon's throat. Though her adrenaline was pumping madly she forced herself to step back and extend her arms out to the sides, a gesture of surrender.

The first to attack them from the shadows had stood back up by this point and stepped forward with a growl, "Cunt bitch!" Then he backhanded Ariana across the face hard enough to lift her into the air and send her spinning to the ground. He retrieved his mace from where she dropped it as she fell and raised it, thinking to crack her skull with it.

"No!" The dark skinned one barked. "Nothing permanent, she's far too valuable for that." Seeing the wisdom in his leaders words, the first man, who Ariana still had not gotten a clear look at, kicked her in the temple instead and her world faded quickly to black.

She had asked him to help her move the chairs from their performance back to the large house's cellar, a task Falcon had been only too happy to assist with. Now he followed Sasha, who lately had taken the stage name of Kizmet down the stairs carrying the last two chairs. She led they way into the storeroom portion of the cellar and placed the chair she had been carrying on the smallest of the stacks they had made, then she stepped aside to let him place the final two. Their task accomplished, Falcon turned with a smile to see the sexy gypsy closing the door out to the main basement room. When she turned to face him, leaning herback against the door, a look of wanton desire in her brown eyes his smile only widened.

"Kestrel," she said, her voice a throaty purr, "the whole time Joanna and I were dancing earlier... I felt you watching me."

"That was kind of the point of the dance." He reminded her.

Her full lips spread into a knowing smile, "True. But feeling your eyes on me that entire time... I couldn't help thinking that it would be nice to feel something else of yours on me too."

He chuckled, "Is that why you asked me to help you with the chairs? To lure me down here?"

She shook her head. "The chairs are heavy, I didn't want to do it alone. But I figured... since we're here... and alone...." She let her words trail away and stood there leaning against the door, staring at him, leaving the next move to the ranger. Falcon stood there a moment, letting his blue eyes trail over her still scantily clad form.

"You're exquisite." He told her, his voice pitched low.

"Then what's stopping you?" She asked him.

"Your family has been very good to me Sasha. Your uncle Rolin taught me most everything I know about scouting. Your father has given me a lot of work for the military... you and your sisters have become like... well... sisters to me." He shook his head. "I just don't know if I want to risk losing that relationship for... this."

Her smile was still knowing, her expression still wanton. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret Falcon." She pushed off the door with her hands and started toward him slowly, her hips swaying in an almost hypnotic fashion. "My sisters and I have all, at one point or another, wondered what it would be like to be with you sexually. It seems that I'm just the first to be bold enough to actually find out." She was in his arms then, her incredibly curves melting into him, her soft, full lips pressed to his. Falcon instantly felt his body responding to her closeness and when her lips parted his tongue darted forward, plunging into her mouth. She responded eagerly, her own tongue meeting his and starting a passionate little duel in her mouth.

Falcon's heart started to race, his hands exploring her, the ranger finally admitting to himself that he had wondered for years what this would feel like. Then, before he had even registered her moving his belt was open and her hand was sliding into his pants, her dexterous fingers encircling him. Falcon moaned aloud, his manhood swelling in her grasp and Sasha moaned as well, finding him long and thick and very ready for her.

She broke the kiss with a gasp of, ""Gods your huge!"

Kestrel's only response was a growl as he lowered his face to her burgeoning breasts, burying it in her cleavage. She gasped again, stiffening and it took Falcon a moment to realize that it wasn't in response to anything he was doing. She was pulling back, away from him and he started to think that she was changing her mind. He straightened up, frowning, prepared to chew her out for leading him on. His frown became suddenly a look of great concern as he saw her staggering back, noticed that all the chocolate brown of her eyes had faded to stark white. "Sasha?" he said, his voice laced with concern. He had seen this happen a couple of times before, when they gypsy was being overcome with a vision. It was not widely known that in addition to the magic she dabbled in, Sasha was also a latent psychic.

She fell to her knees with a groan, sitting back on her calves, her arms limp at her sides. The raven haired beauty arched her back suddenly, violently and her mouth opened wide in an anguished scream. "No!" she cried, folding in on herself suddenly, covering her face with her hands and weeping, her shoulders shaking with the emotion that was flooding her. "Father!"

Falcon was at her side then, kneeling next to her, one hand on her shoulder. "What is it? What did you see?" he asked her.

She didn't answer, she suddenly leapt to her feet and spun toward the door, sprinting from the room. "I have to stope them!"

"Sasha! Wait!" He called after her, standing up and realizing as he tried to chase after her that his pants were still open and sagging around his thighs, holding him up. He pulled them up and as he was fastening them he heard her gasp again, this time in fear and a voice he didn't recognize, low and full of sinister intent could be heard from the next room.

"Well hello beautiful! Looks like I just hit the jackpot!" The voice was laced with an accent that Falcon couldn't quite place, but it was obvious that the human tongue of Algeron was not its native language.

Falcon stepped through the door into the next room and saw Sasha on the stairs leading up to the ground floor. She was pinned against the wall by a hobgoblin that the ranger had never seen before. The creature was tall and painfully thin, his head somewhat oblong in shape with long, pointed ears sticking out to either side, the left one folded halfway along its length. His nose jutted out from his face, hooking down sharply at the end and he had a wide mouth full of jagged, sharp teeth. His skin was leathery and gray and he wore a suit of filthy and badly maintained leather armor. He had Sasha pushed back against the wall, her arms held above her head in his left hand while his right had pulled her left leg up and was slowly working its way up her thigh, under the skirt she still wore from the dance earlier. The hobgoblins face was close to hers and Sasha was turning her head away to avoid the leathery lips he was trying to press against hers. The hobgoblin hadn't noticed Falcon yet, so the ranger glanced around the room, his eyes finally settling on what he was looking for.

In a barrel a few feet from the door he had just passed through was a group of long poles, thick dowels that had been used in the past for some kind of construction project and were sitting down here waiting to be needed. They were about six feet long and two inches thick, perfectly round... just like a quarter staff, his weapon of choice. "Let go of me you freak!" Sasha cried from the stairs as Falcon lifted one of the long sticks from the barrel and turned toward the struggling couple. In three quick steps he was behind the hobgoblin, but he was hesitant to strike for fear of hitting Sasha. Instead he took the staff in his right hand and extended it toward the other mans back, raising it above his shoulder. Falcon lowered the staff quickly, tapping the hobgoblin on the shoulder twice.

With a surprised grunt the hobgoblin turned its head away from the gypsy toward him and Falcon retracted his chosen weapon and quickly thrust it forward into the mans temple. The hobgoblin staggered up the stairs, half falling and catching himself while Sasha staggered down and then scampered quickly out of the rangers way. Falcon turned fully toward the stairs, blocking the monsters access to the cellar and the woman he had been trying to force himself on. The hobgoblin was already pushing himself upright, shaking his head to clear it. He proved every bit as tricky as his race had a reputation for being, drawing a knife from somewhere hidden and flinging it at the ranger as he turned toward him.

Falcon twitched the staff to the side, deflecting the knife away but realized too late that the hobgoblin had only intended the throw as a distraction. He came in fast behind the knife, diving for a tackle around the rangers knees. Falcon fell backward as the monsters full weight hit him, sending the tall human sprawling on the stairs. Falcon tried to bring his staff to bear on the hobgoblin, but it was too long to be easily used in such tight quarters. They wound up struggling in a kind of twisting and grappling pile, the hobgoblins fingers reaching for the rangers eyes while Falcon attempted to push his opponent away to get some distance between them. The hobgoblin snarled a curse in its own language and Falcon barked one in his, feeling the filthy fingernails clawing at his cheeks as the creatures fingers clawed their way upward.

Suddenly Sasha appeared above them, looming up behind the hobgoblin, a long bladed dagger raised in both hands, the blade pointed down at the monsters back. With a grimace she drove it down, severing his spine at the base of his neck, killing the creature instantly. The hobgoblins eyes widened and he opened his mouth as if to exclaim, but he didn't have the time to react... he was already dead. As the creature slumped atop the ranger, Falcon was already rolling him away and sitting up. The gypsy had staggered backward a few paces, her chocolate colored eyes wide, staring at the body. Falcon didn't have to ask, he knew it was the first time she had ever killed.

"Sasha." He said quietly but firmly. Her gaze shifted from the body to him. "It was him or me. You just saved my life."

He saw her eyes come back into focus and then they widened again and she darted forward, aiming to get around him and up the stairs. Falcon scrambled to his feet and caught her about her slender waist. The gypsy struggled against him, but he wrapped his arms tighter around her. "Let me go Kestrel! I have to get up there, you don't understand! My father...!"

He spun then, pushing her back against the wall, pinning her there by her shoulders. She looked into his face, hers already streaked with tears and his own expression was stricken. "I do understand, and there's nothing either of us can do now." He nodded at the dead hobgoblin. "With the number of warriors and other people here who can take care of themselves equally well, can you imagine how many raiders must have come with this one? We'll be severely outnumbered up there."

"I don't care! Falcon... they're going to kill him!" She was sobbing now.

"By the Gods woman!" Donovan moaned as he pushed into his wife, causing her to arch her back and sigh with ecstasy. "I wish I knew what it is about you that feels so... exquisite!"

"Why not just enjoy it dear?" Joanna said, gasping out the words slightly. She was nude, lying across the desk in Donovan's office, her shapely legs elevated so that they leaned against his broad, well muscled chest. Donovan stood next to the desk, as naked as she, his hands on her hips as he pushed into her. After the dance he had waited just long enough to be mostly unnoticed before taking her hand and pulling her rather unceremoniously into his office where he had quickly stripped her of her dancing outfit and laid her across the table. The sight of her naked body had been all the incentive he needed to quickly strip from his own clothing, his arousal already quite apparent after watching the dance earlier.

"I have no other choice with you!" He grunted, withdrawing almost completely and then ramming home again, his pelvis slapping against her firm ass. She hissed in delight, as always thrilled with the way he filled her. She gripped the edge of the desk and pulled herself downward, forcing him deeper and Donovan responded, driving harder against her. He started to thrust with abandon then, his hips pistoning back and forth like a machine, his wife's whole body shaking with each impact, but so firm were her curves that there was very little jiggling involved. There was no more talk, simply motion as they came together as they had so often done in the last sixteen years. Gasps and groans mingled with cries of delight that they attempted to stifle but were only partially successful at. There were still party guests in the house, and no doubt they would soon wonder what had become of their hosts.

So lost were they in each others bodies and the pleasures they were giving one another that neither noticed the quietly opening door behind the muscular knight. Donovan was nearing climax and when he cried out, at first she thought it was because he had reached orgasm, then Joanna saw the blood erupt from his left shoulder and he staggered away from her, his face contorted in pain. "Donovan?" She said, confusion evident in her tone as she started to sit up.

"Don't move cunt!" Barked a voice from the doorway and she glanced over there to see three men standing just inside the office, one reloading a just fired crossbow, another with an already loaded bow directed at her and the third boldly ogling her voluptuous body. Suddenly very aware of her nudity, Joanna tried her best to cover herself with her arms, but knew that her particular curves were a little too ample for this to be adequate.

"Damn! You ever seen a body like that?" Said the man with the loaded crossbow, his eyes also drinking in the sight of Joanna over the top of his bow.

"Can't say that I have, though some of those others outside come damn close." Said the first man to have spoke, apparently the leader of his trio. He was a tall, broad and well muscled man, half-orc if the overlapping incisors and ridges across the bridge of his too wide nose were any indication. He wore filthy leathers of light brown, a spiked club called a morning star hanging from a belt at his waist. He had dirty, blue black hair pulled back into a ponytail and his bare arms were lined with what looked like tribal tattoos. The two bowman were both human and appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties. Less than average height and scrawny in the extreme, they both had waxen complexions and shaggy brown hair in desperate need of a cleaning and a trim. Neither of them wore armor, though their clothing was in disrepair and in shades of black and dark gray. Joanna realized on studying them more closely that they were likely brothers, the younger of the two being the one who had evidently shot Donovan as they came into the office. This one now had his crossbow reloaded and was aiming it once more at the knight, who had slumped against a nearby floor to ceiling bookcase and was holding his shoulder where the quarrel still jutted out, seeping dark blood.

"Who the hell are you people?" Donovan demanded, his voice etched with pain. Joanna glanced over at him, concerned for the amount of blood she could see running down his arm and chest.

The brothers stayed back by the door, covering the knight and his wife while the half-orc came forward, his small, beady black eyes feasting hungrily on Joanna though his words were directed at the lord of the house. "My name will mean nothing to you," he said, stopping next to the desk and gazing down at the beautiful blonde, "but I'm sure you've heard of the group I work for." He glanced over at Donovan then, looking for a reaction as he reached out and trailed the claw like fingernails of his right hand down Joanna's sleek, bare thigh. "The Reavers."

"Don't touch her you animal!" Donovan snarled at him, taking a subconscious step forward.

The younger brother, back by the door, also took a step forward, refocusing his aim at the knight. The half-orc smiled, "Ferret, if the good knight takes another step, put a quarrel where it counts." The young human dropped his aim then, smiling maliciously as it became obvious his bolt was aimed directly at the well endowed knights manhood.

Joanna raised a hand slightly, motioning her husband to stop, begging him with her eyes not to get himself killed. The knights large hands balled into fists and his whole body shook with rage, but he refrained from coming forward as the half-orc continued to caress her bare leg, moving his hand from her thigh down to her well turned calf. The leader of the trio returned his gaze to her now, his black eyes meeting her blue ones levelly, his intent couldn't have been more clear to her. He wanted to provoke her husband into rash action, and he knew how to do it. "Bastard." she said in a harsh whisper.

He smiled, "You know, before we took this assignment we were given descriptions of the various people we could expect to find here, our employers had a copy of your guest list. They said you would be the most beautiful one in attendance... though I daresay there a couple here that might have you beat out. Still... I can't help wondering if you taste as good as you look."

He turned to face the desk fully, reaching out with both hands and rolling her onto her back as she had rolled slightly onto her side to try and hide her nudity from them. Her calves trailed down the side of the desk and she glared hatefully up at him, her thigh muscles flexing to resist as he reached down to push her knees wide apart. He was much stronger than she and her resistance served her little. Her arms were still positioned to block her privates from his view and he smiled down at her. "Put your hands behind your head."

Donovan growled and Joanna said, "Go to hell."

"Weasel." The half-orc said quietly and Joanna saw the second brother raise his crossbow purposefully at her. "And Ferret, if she continues to resist... kill the knight."

Joanna continued to glare at him for a moment longer, then she slowly raised her arms, locking her fingers together beneath her tousled blonde hair. "Gods above look at that!" The one called Weasel groaned, lowering his crossbow just a hair to get a better view of her incredible body. The half-orc knelt then, his head shoulders now level with her supine form and he reached out, caressing her thighs as he moved his head in closer.

Donovan growled again and almost took another step, the half-orc glanced over at him and saw the knight glance at Ferret, whose attention hadn't wavered much from the knight, in spite of what was happening on the desk. Smiling wider, the half-orc turned his attention fully to the woman before him and leaned in, burying his face between her thighs. Joanna turned her head and met her husbands eyes, pleading with him silently one last time to do nothing, then she gasped, her shoulders rising reflexively off the surface of the desk, her head rocking back and her eyes closing as the mans inhumanly long tongue, an inheritance from his orcish parent, slithered into her like a snake. Joanna's full pink lips parted and her body instantly betrayed her, for she had already been perilously close to orgasm only a few moments earlier. As it always had whens he neared sexual completion, her mind became single mindedly focused on attaining as much pleasure as he could get and through no conscious thought of her own she raised her knees and hooked her legs over the half-orc's shoulders, her hands coming forward and finding his hair, pulling his face harder against her womanhood. Two men growled simultaneously, the half-orc in delighted surprise at her unexpected reaction and Donovan in frustrated rage at his inability to stop it. He had long ago come to terms with what he and Joanna had come to call her "cursed blessing", a deeply ingrained sexual hunger that had plagued her since her earliest years and that she had struggled most of her life to keep contained. Whenever Joanna was brought close to orgasm she lost all sense of propriety and no longer cared who... or what... was causing her pleasure, only that it continue as long as possible. This had led to many problems for the woman over the years, until at last she had met Donovan and married... as his wife she had never had to worry about her "curse" rearing its head again for to him it was a blessing that she could so fully throw herself into intercourse. This was the first time in many years that it had come back to haunt her.

The half-orc moaned, reaching up to wrap his burly arms about her thighs, grinding his mouth more firmly against her, his tongue delving ever deeper and Joanna squirmed and moaned upon the desktop, lost to sexual oblivion. When she through her head back and cried out, her whole body tensing as her back arched, it was obvious she had reached orgasm and Donovan lost control. He lunged for the desk and there was a faint twang as young Ferret released his crossbows quarrel. The knight cried out in a mixture of pain and rage as the bolt pierced his thigh, driving through the thick muscle, the pointed end erupting out the other side and plunging into his groin, just above where the scrotum dropped. A strangled cry erupted from Donovan as he fell to the ground beside the desk, a similar cry erupting from Joanna as her eyes popped open just in time to see him fall.

The half orc pulled back from her, standing up and looking down at the knight where he writhed in pain, clutching at his bloodied crotch. He shook his head, as though unable to ascertain how the man could allow himself to come to this point. "I would have thought a warrior of such renown would have more self control!" He kicked Donovan savagely in the stomach, causing the knight to moan as he was rolled onto his back. "Boys... I think we're almost done here. The boss will be waiting for us outside." He glanced at the naked woman on the desk, panting with sexual exertion, her skin flushed with pleasure even as her face was wracked with fear and anger. "Get dressed whore... that outfit you were wearing earlier should suffice." With that he raised a foot and drove the heel of his boot savagely into Donovan's testicles. The knight screamed as the point of the quarrel was driven deeper, ravaging his insides. Joanna moved quickly to comply, hoping to spare him more pain, tears flowing freely down her face.

-3-

At first she couldn't remember what was happening as she slowly regained consciousness, but as awareness returned to her fully Ariana opened her eyes and her memory of what happened right before she was knocked out came flooding back. Her head snapped up and she looked around desperately. She was in the back yard of her families home, lying on her side with her wrists chained behind her. As they realized she had regained consciousness hands grabbed her roughly by the arms and pulled her upright, then forced her to her knees. She started to look around at who was manhandling her, a snarled warning on her lips but whoever it was took a handful of her hair in hand and forced her attention forward. From her peripheral view she could see that she wasn't alone in her situation, to her right her sister Krystel was also being forced to kneel while to her left knelt Countess Shroude, both women similarly chained, thought Countess was wearing a metal collar as well that seemed to glow faintly. So they were aware of her magical abilities and had taken measures to hamper them. Beyond the elven beauty Ariana could hear a woman crying and thought the voice was that of Joanna, which worried her. Her step-mother was not a woman to cry easily.

She saw as well that they were a good twenty yards from the back door of the house and that the yard between them and the house was littered with dead bodies. Most of them were guards in the armor and uniform of the city, but there were a few men lying there that she dreaded seeing. One such was Phillip Charm, Avalon's father, his throat having been slit from ear to ear. She tried to look around, moving just her eyes, but could see no sign of her betrothed among the slain. That gave her hope... though admittedly not much. That was when the back door of the manor slammed open and the dark elf she had met earlier came out, shoving her father in front of him. Ariana's eyes widened in horror at sight of the knight, one shoulder seeping blood from what looked like a crossbow quarrel while his thigh on that same side and his groin were also bleeding profusely from a similar wound. He was pale and looked weak, she wondered how much blood he had lost.

There were other men around as well, hard looking men in various types of armor ranging from plate and chain to leathers. They were all unclean men, outlaws every one of them, some she even recognized from wanted fliers she had seen about the island. The dark skinned elf kicked Donovan in the back of the knees, forcing the first knight of Peacehope to kneel before him, then he looked around, taking stock of his men. "Where's Bleb?"

The man holding Ariana's hair spoke up, his voice a deep basso rumble that marked him as a member of a larger race than human. He spoke with an accent, though she couldn't easily place it. "He went to search the basement... never came back. I didn't think it was prudent to send anyone in to look for him. If there was someone down there that could kill the hobgoblin, I didn't think we'd want to risk any of the other men just for him."

The dark elf nodded, agreeing with that assessment. "Klaw is right. Bleb was no slouch in combat. If someone is hiding out down there that could take him on, we'd do well to let them alone. But it means we need to be quick about the rest of our business here so...." One of the dark elf's hands had been partially hidden behind her father, but when he pulled it into view she gasped, surprised to see her fathers magical sword, the symbol of her family, in his grip. The sword, long called Vindicator, was a zweihander or three and a half hand sword and it looked massive in the dark elf's diminutive grip. It was magically enchanted so that in the hands of anyone but a Moonstone it was heavy and unwieldy, but he seemed to have little trouble lifting it, showing a strength that was not evident in his slighter frame. "We were hired for a specific purpose," he said, and Ariana realized that he was addressing his captives now, herself included, "the primary goal was the theft of this sword." He glanced around as he held the sword aloft, "The secondary goal," suddenly Vindicator came flashing downward and there was a sound like the cleaving of a melon as Donovan Moonstone's head fell to the ground in front of his kneeling body, "was to rid the world of this bastard." Ariana refused to believe the evidence of her eyes as her fathers headless body slumped to the side, blood spurting up like a geyser from the stump of his neck. "We were told that there would be a great many extraordinarily beautiful women here that we could take with us and sell to the highest bidder as a bonus for the job we were hired to do. I'm pleased to see that our employer was correct in that. Therefore, all of you ladies are coming with us."

His words were registered only barely in her conscious mind, her gaze was riveted on the body of her dead father. The dark elf continued to speak but she hardly heard him, she felt the large hand in her hair tighten its grip and felt herself jerked painfully to her feet. She wasn't aware of struggling, but the scream that erupted from her mouth was raw, leaving her throat sore and dry. She tried to rush forward, to throw herself at her father, but the strong arms that wrapped around her from behind held her fast. Still she struggled, only barely aware of what she was doing, mad with grief and rage. Then there was a heavy impact on the back of her head and she knew no more for a time.

She came to more slowly this time, her head throbbing painfully, and was quickly aware of an odd swaying motion. As she opened her eyes she was at first puzzled to the see the ground passing by beneath her, but she was not walking. Then she realized that she was hanging upside down, her head and shoulders dangling down a broad, muscular back. Her flat stomach was bent over a broad shoulder, a burly arm closed over her hips, one hand resting on a firm buttock. The swaying she had felt was the motion of her head and shoulders as the man strode forward. Still saying nothing, Ariana looked surruptitiously around, taking stock of the situation. Whoever her captor was, he was a giant of a man for her head dangled a good six feet above the ground, and as it was well below the level of his head he had to be nearly an eight footer himself. She could feel a head full of coarse, wiry hair rubbing against her waist as he turned his head to one side and there was a stench coming off him that, once she registered it, made her convulsively wrinkle her pert nose.

She could hear others moving ahead of the man who carried her, but she could not see them and when she turned her head slightly to look behind them she saw that her captor was the last in the lineup. That meant that the other women who had been taken were somewhere up ahead. Thinking about the other captives caused her to think about the events leading up to this situation and she nearly lost herself to despair as she pictured her fathers head falling to the ground again. Closing her eyes, she forced that memory away to be dealt with later, realizing that there were more important things to tend to right now.

Returning her focus to her current situation she was quick to discover that her wrists had been tied behind her back. They were tied and not manacled, of that she was certain as she could feel the fibers of a rope cutting into her flesh. She tested the bonds carefully, straining against them slowly so as not to alert her captor that she was awake. They were tight and there was no play to them at all. Whoever had secured her had known what he was doing. But her feet, as near as she could tell were unsecured, so they apparently wanted her to be able to walk on her own eventually, probably when she woke up. She decided for the time being not to let them know she was awake, figuring it would be best to let the beast carrying her, whatever he happened to be, tire himself out as much as possible.

From somewhere well out in front of her captor the familiar voice of the dark skinned elf that had accosted her in the stable suddenly called out, "All right we're here! Let's get the women loaded up and roll out quickly. It won't be long till someone comes to look for them."

She heard a lot of shuffling around and creaking of what sounded like wagon springs as the women were loaded into what turned out to be the carriages and wagons that had brought the party goers to their manor earlier. Ariana could see the dead bodies of the drivers littering the field where they had been parked and her hearts went out to the poor men, who couldn't have known what was coming. "Klaw, bring her over here." The dark skinned elf called out.

To her surprise, the man carrying her said, "No. This one's mine, I'll hold her in the last wagon with me." The voice was the same deep, basso rumble she had heard behind her back at the house, just before her father had..., no, best not to think about that right now. She remembered that the dark skinned one had called the man Klaw back then too.

"That bitch is dangerous Klaw, and easily one of the most beautiful prizes we claimed today. She needs to be kept with the others where she can be watched." The dark skinned elf argued.

She felt the one called Klaw tighten his arm about her and she tried to not to wince at the display of strength. "You going to come take her from me then Scarab?" He demanded, a challenge in his voice. "You said I could claim one of the women for my own as payment for this job... I'm claiming her."

There was a long pause during which she figured the one she now knew to be called Scarab must have been considering whether to continue the argument. Finally someone else said, "Let him have her, the bitch is a prize to be sure, but he won't damage her too badly and when he tires of playing with her, we can still sell her on the auction." This voice she recognized too, it was the man who had originally ambushed her and Avalon back in the stables, the one she had been about to beat senseless before the man called Scarab showed up.

Klaw grunted, declaring quite obviously with that one sound that neither of the men had any real choice in the matter. She felt her body sway again as he turned and trudged across the small field, apparently toward one of the wagons. As they approached it, he spoke to someone she couldn't see. "Follow the other wagons, but keep a distance. I want some privacy." There was a nervous laugh and somone confirmed they understood, then she was jostled around again as Klaw clambered up into the back of a covered wagon. Ariana couldn't keep herself from gasping in surprise as she was flung rather unceremoniously to the wooden floor of the wagon. She landed heavily on her bound arms and winced at the pain that shot through her shoulders. "Yeah, I thought you were awake bitch." He crouched in the wagons opening, a massive figure completely blotting out the light that would have shown into the wagon had he not been there. Klaw, it turned out, was an ogre... or perhaps a half-ogre as he was actually rather short to be full blooded. Though he was crouched she was right to have assumed him at about eight feet tall, his thick, coarse black hair hung in a wild mane around his face and down past his shoulders. He had a broad face, the lower half of which was almost completely hidden behind a bushy, unkempt beard. His nose was large and wide, hair growing fromt he nostrils, his eyes were large and blood shot and he had a massive, shaggy unibrow that ran the entire length of his forehead, which jutted out to cast his eyes in shadow. Within the shaggy beard she could see a pair of large incisor teeth that jutted up out of his mouth, overlapping his upper lip. He was naked from the waist up, save for a leather battle harness that crossed his massive chest and rose over his shoulders. His legs were clad in a hard black leather and he wore a pair of boots that were old and worn, but appeared to be still in good repair. She saw that a sword hung from his belt and to her trained eye it looked like a claymore. For her to wield that blade would require both hands, but she figured he could wield one handed. On his other hip was a coiled bull whip and she saw the handle of a hatchet protruding from the small of his back. She had noticed it there just below her head as she had hung from his shoulder earlier. "So which one are you?" he asked her bluntly.

"What?" She asked, her green eyes narrowing as she regarded the monster. She felt the wagon lurch and realized they had started to move.

"I saw the medallion around that pretty neck before Scarab took it, so I know you're a Moonstone. But which one?" Klaw asked her.

She considered not telling him anything, but thought it best to keep him talking for a time, hoping maybe she could learn something from him. Ogres, as a rule, weren't the smartest creatures on the planet, maybe she could coax some information out of this one. Besides, she really didn't see any harm in him knowing which of the sisters she was. "Lady Ariana." She replied, her tone staying defiant.

He grunted and nodded, his eyes playing over her as she lay on the floor of the wagon at his feet. "I should have realized that... the red hair."

"Who are you?" She asked him, letting her eyes play over the interior of the wagon, wondering if there was anything in there that might help her. She saw pots and pans and various other household sundries and realized that this wagon had to have belonged to the caterers that Joanna had hired to help out with the party. They were probably all dead now, and she doubted they had carried weapons in here, though perhaps she could find a knife of some kind.

"I am Klaw, sone of Roke." He informed her, his chest puffing out proudly. "I have claimed you as my prize for my help with the mission we just completed."

She glared at him, "Your prize am I? What if I don't want to be your prize?"

He grunted, "You have no choice in the matter, you are mine now."

At this point the terrain beneath the wagon must have evened out as the ride became much smoother. Ariana thought perhaps they had found a road, though she couldn't tell from where she lay on the floor of the wagon which direction they were traveling. "If there was one thing my father taught me about situations such as this one," she said to the monster that was leering down at her, "it's that there are always choices!" She lashed out then, one long leg thrusting out as she drove her heel into his chest with all the force she could muster. It connected with a solid sounding thud, but had little to no effect upon the target. Klaws hand flashed forward, his powerful fingers closing around her ankle and squeezing. The paladin felt something pop and she winced, trying to jerk her leg back while hiding her surprise at having had no effect on him whatsoever.

Klaw shifted his gaze down, his eyes traveling along the sensual, smooth lines of her leg, turning it in his grasp so that he could see it from several different angles. "Nice." He growled, his other hand coming forward to caress her calf, then slidin up her thigh and then higher. He leaned forward slightly, using his grip on her leg to drag her closer to him, his other hand now slipping up into the bodice of her dress, still misshapen from her earlier attempted tryst with Avalon. Ariana growled and struggled, kicking out at him with her other foot but her strongest kicks seemed to have no effect upon him. His hand slid slowly upward, his claw like fingers scraping lightly over her flat, toned stomach then inching their way slowly up the underside of her breast.

"Unhand me you slobbering son of an orcish whore!" she growled at him, kicking him in the face as hard as she could manage. He growled in anger, having apparently been hurt by that kick, but before she could repeat it he had jerked his free hand from within her dress and, sliding his other hand up to her knee and grabbing her other knee in his other hand he dragged her toward him, parting her legs till he was crouched between her wide spread thighs.

"I told you, you are mine now! I will have you!" Ariana squirmed and struggled against him as he slid both his hands up her thighs, questing within her skirt for the scant underwear she had worn for the benefit of her knightly fiance. She heard the shredding of the material as Klaw ripped them from her hips and then he had one hand on his belt, undoing it as he groped at her crotch with his other hand. Ariana kicked at the floor of the wagon, trying to push herself away from him but when he lunged forward, lowering himself atop her she was pinned completely and no longer able to move, the strain on her shoulders as his weight was added to her arms was intense. She felt his manhood burst free of the confines of his pants and her heart skipped a beat, for he was massive!

"No!" she screamed, certain he would tear her in half. He grunted, one hand questing between their bodies as he sought to position himself against her velvety soft mound. "You can't! That thing will kill me!" She tried to arch her back to throw him off but he was far too heavy, nor could she roll or twist out from under him. Her legs were spread wide and she was thankful she was so limber but when she felt the massive head of his erection pressing against her she knew that no matter how far she spread her legs, it wouldn't be far enough. Klaw reached up and placed his hands on her shoulders, slid them down and pushed the bodice of the dress down to bare her breasts, lowered his bearded face to them and ravaged the firm globes with his mouth. Returning his hands to her shoulders he started to push her downward as he slowly thrust his hips up. Ariana stiffened, the pain starting already as her vaginal lips parted around him. He hadn't gone in an inch before they were stretched tight and the half-ogre groaned in delight at the tightness of her, pushing her ever more slowly down by the shoulders as he thrust up into her with equal slowness.

Ariana fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to stream from her eyes, her vision blurring with them. The pain was intense and she knew it was only going to be moments before she ripped. She had heard of women ripping as they gave birth to especially large children and knew that they survived such things all the time, and Klaw's manhood was not the size of a child but she knew that a babies head wasn't much smaller than what he was pushing up inside her now and she hadn't had the benefit of being dialated as a mother in labor would have been. She felt the skin around his massive rod give way and a wave of pain shot through her. She could contain it no longer and she screamed in pain as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Klaw grunted in delight, the blood flowing from her tear acting as a lubricant, mercilessly making the rest of his forced entry less painful. Once the larger head of his member had cleared her entry, the rest was easier and he gave a massive thrust and growl of pleasure as he pushed into her fully. He moaned at the warmth and tightness of her, impressed despite himself that she had taken his full length into her hole.

He lowered his hands from her shoulders then, not needing to use them for his initial entry any more and instead started to caress her thighs from her knees to her hips. He was thrusting now, hooking his hands under her knees and forcing her to lock her legs around his waist as best she could. The whole wagon rocked with the force of his thrusts as he took the redhead, his grunts audible several wagons away, eliciting grins of delight from the other bandits, who had also heard the paladin scream, though she had since fallen quiet. They wondered if the half-ogre their boss had hired for this job had killed the redhead. If so, that was a shame for she had been the favorite of many of the men. Klaws wagon creaked, groaned and swayed for the better part of an hour as it made its way steadily along at the back of the line and when the massive warrior finally reached his peak several men laughed at the passionate roar that erupted from the back of that wagon. It was fortunate for the paladin that she had passed out from the pain less then ten minutes into the rape.

When Ariana regained consciousness for the third time that day she was surprised to be alive. She was weak, which she assumed was from a loss of blood. She was also sore, but she knew very well what that was from. She couldn't tell how much time had passed, but the wagon was still swaying so they were still traveling to wherever it was they were being taken. She glanced around the interior of the wagon and found that her rapist was sleeping next to her, lying on his side, his face toward her. Endeavoring to not make too much noise, Ariana turned her head very slowly as she examined the interior of the wagon again. It looked to her as though he lived here, for there were many fixtures present that indicated someone did. As she examined her surroundings further, however, she started to realize that the items present, such as as cookware, bedding and various other things, were not of a size to be used by the half ogre. Therefore, this wagon had belonged to someone else and had been taken by Klaw. No doubt the previous owner had no further use of it, dead people seldom needed such things.

Happy to find that she had not been bound, evidently her captor had thought her not to be a threat, Ariana tested her limbs to see how well they moved. Slowly and cautiously testing her arms and legs, moving as though she were just shifting in her sleep so that she might not disturb him. Though stiff and sore, she thought herself capable of movement and her mind started working toward a means of escape. Her gaze fell on a knife block a short distance away, no doubt used as kitchenware though in this case she saw them as weapons. They weren't within arms reach, but she wouldn't have to move much or far to get to them. Glancing once more at her rapist, Ariana slowly rolled away from him, toward the side of the wagon where the knives were kept. Getting what she hoped was a sufficient distance between them she pushed herself into a sitting position, stifling a groan as her sore muscles resisted the effort.

She extended an arm and her fingers had just wrapped around the handle of one of the larger knives when she sensed him moving. Even as she pulled the knife free she turned her head, saw him scrambling toward her with rage in his eyes. His hands caught her at the waist, started to pull her back toward him and she stabbed blindly with the knife. He shouted and blood sprayed warm up her torso, splashing her bare breasts as the blade sunk deep into his cheek. He recoiled, the movement causing her to slice his mouth open from the cheek out. He screamed in pain, one hand coming up to staunch the flow of blood. She squirmed away from him then, crawling rapidly toward the back of the wagon. Pushing the flap aside she glanced back over her shoulder and saw him coming again, his face now a bloody mask. She dodged another attempt at grabbing her, kicked him solidly in the face with the heel of her right foot and used that to propel herself forward, tucking and rolling as she hit the ground behind the wagon. Momentarily stunned, she took a moment to push herself up to her hands and knees and turned her head to regard the moving wagon.

She saw his head protruding from the flap, glaring at her and then it disappeared back inside. She heard his baritone voice growl something at the driver and the wagon suddenly lurched to a stop. Ariana forced herself to her feet and started staggering toward the trees she saw to the side of the road. She hadn't the time to determine her location, but she felt confident that her knowledge of her homeland would be sufficient for her to find her way home and then to bring back help. Just before she was swallowed by the woods she glanced back and saw him leap to the ground behind the wagon and start after her. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she took flight, the words of the dark elf ringing in her ears from somewhere farther up the wagon train.

"Get after her you moron!"

Ariana did something that went against her normal behavior... she ran. She knew she was in no position to be much help to her fellow captors, but if she could escape she could bring help back to them. So she ran, the low hanging tree branches slapping at her face while the branches of the low lying shrubbery grabbed and scraped at her nude body. She still didn't know where on her island home she was at, she dared not stop long enough to get her bearings, certain that that half-ogre freak was chasing after her. Occasionally she thought she could hear his massive bulk crashing the through the trees behind her.

Still suffering the effects of the rape, Ariana wasn't in prime form and she was quickly slowing, her generous bosom heaving as she gasped for breath. She refused to stop though, knowing that to do so would mean death... or worse, enduring another rape at the hands of Klaw. She knew not how long she had run for, but when she broke free of the tree line and found herself suddenly beside a rapidly moving river she knew where she was at last. To her left the river ended quite suddenly in what she knew to be a three hundred foot water fall while to her right it meandered through the forest, eventually cutting through the center of Peacehope where it segmented into several different rivers, making the various districts of the city into their own islands. On the other side of the city the river rejoined itself, becoming one stream again. She turned that way, thinking to follow the river back to her home but she hadn't taken three steps in that direction when Klaw stepped out into her path, a large claymore sword gripped easily in one hand.

Ariana halted, her emerald eyes narrowing as they darted about, looking for a quick escape route as well as whether or not he had come alone. But of course he had. He wouldn't want to share her. "Chase over red." He grunted at her, and the paladin noticed that he was breathing rather hard himself. "You come back now." She didn't speak, merely shook her head and raised the knife she still held, projecting quite clearly that she had no intention of going back to his wagon. The half-ogre shrugged, accepting her unspoken refusal and raised his sword, stepping toward her.

He was bigger than her, stronger and, she knew from experience, faster than he should be for his size. She was naked, armed only with a carving knife and horribly battered from her mistreatment at his hands. She knew she had little prayer of winning a prolonged battle against this monster, so she decided it would have to be quick. In the face of his advance, she retreated, backing into the rapidly moving waters of the Algeronian River. She stifled a gasp as the frigid waters, which originated deep in the mountain that housed the dwarven clan Graybeard, washed over her feet and calves. The cold was numbing but also invigorating. Frowning that she was backing away from him, Klaw picked up the pace slightly, raising his sword as he scowled at her.

As he closed the gap he brought the claymore down in a savage arc toward her head but at the last second Ariana reversed her retreat and lunged toward him, placing herself firmly within the swing of his sword and twisted her lither body to the side while slashing upward with the long bladed knife. She fel the resistance as the blade met bone, but his arms downward momentum in addition to the upward swing of her knife had the desired effect. Klaw groaned in surprise and pain as he staggered back, the sword splashing into the river, his hand still closed around its hilt. He clutched his bleeding stump to his chest, staring down at it in shock. Ariana stood knee deep in the river, crouched slightly, waiting for his response. For a moment he seemed to be in shock, gazing down at where his hand used to be, then he slowly raised his gaze to meet hers and she saw a potent hatred there. He roared a primal scream that sent a chill down her spine and charged at her, striking out with what would have the been back of his severed hand. Instead, though she tried to dodge out of the way, she took a solid blow across her head from the massive warriors forearm. Her foot had slipped on a slick river rock and the blow lifted her clear out of the water, sending her spinning through the air for several feet.

The blow was sufficient to daze the paladin but as she splashed into the frigid waters her senses returned to her quickly. She floundered, trying to reach the surface, feeling herself swept away in the current. She knew the waterfall wasn't too far away and she was desperate to halt her sweep toward it. Her hands and feet clutched at the rocks on the river bottom, her legs pumping against the ground, trying to push herself to the surface for a much needed breath. When at last she managed to struggle briefly to the surface and gasp for breath she felt his hand close about her neck and she would have screamed had she the breath to do so as he pushed her back under the water. She struggled against him, but even in her prime his strength was far superior to hers. She clawed at his arm, pried at his fingers but he was too powerful. The strength was quickly leaving her already ravaged body, her vision fading and she realized she was going to lose consciousness, which would either resultin her death, or in him dragging her back to his wagon where he would no doubt punish her severely for taking his hand. A sudden moment of crystal clarity came over Ariana and she realized with a start that she still held the knife in her hand. Up it came, slicing in toward his stomach, lancing out of the water in a deadly arc. He had no time to react, the blade cut deep and blood sprayed form his abdomen, coloring the water around her red. Suddenly his hand was gone as he staggered back, clutching at his opened stomach, pushing intestines back inside as he fell into the water,though he was tall and heavy enough that the current didn't take him.

Ariana was not so lucky, nor did she have the strength left to fight it. The river took her, sweeping her inexorably toward the water fall. She tumbled and rolled in its grasp, banging painfully off of rocks and a log, the latter she grasped desperately at in a last effort to keep from going over the falls. It was too slick and her nails broke away as she scrabbled against it. Just before she lost her grip on the log all together she saw Klaw staggering to his feet and stumbling toward her. 'What does it take to kill you?' she thought, then the waterfall claimed her. She didn't even have time to scream as she was swept over the edge, but she did lash out with that knife one last time, driving the blade as deep as she could into the mud and rock just beneath the surface of the water where it started to plummet down to the river three hundred feet below.

Ariana hung there for what seemed an eternity, the water battering against her, trying to force her to surrender to its strength. She saw the shadow of the half-ogre standing at the precipice of the waterfall, blotting out the setting sun as he scanned the river below for any sign of her body. She didn't know how long he stood there, nor how long she hung beneath the surface of the waterfall, her lungs burning for lack of oxygen. When at last she saw him turn away and disappear she gave him another few painful seconds to get some distance from the fall and then she forced her aching, numb muscles to move, straining as she attempted to pull herself up, fighting against the current. After a few moments she realized it was no use... she hadn't the strength left to save herself. She slumped briefly against the face of the cliff down which the water fell, then she surrendered to fate and uncurled her fingers, letting the knife stay where it had sunk in. He last sensation as she was tossed clear of the water was that of the wind whipping through her hair as she plummeted to what she was certain would be her death.