Month: April 2016

Pirmis was likewise at the front of the affair. The cleric seemed uneasy as the construction neared completion.

“King Travan, I sense that we are watched. I have cast Detection of Evil spells on three occasions the past three days and I detect nothing. Yet I sense something afoot,” the young cleric confided.

“It is probable that you sense a scrying device. It might not reveal its presence to a spell,” Roscoe added as he walked off the ferry to join the others.

“I have accounted for that. The reversal of a True Seeing spell would tell me we were being scanned by Magick. It did not,” Pirmis added emphatically.

Ordrych grasped the hilt of Exeter. The soothing feminine voice simply placed a “no enemies detected” thought within his consciousness.

Roscoe raised his staff and uttered a simple command that none of the others understood.

“There is nothing invisible near us. I do not feel the presence of the sorcerer. I had an unmistakeable feeling when he was near during the battle at Hillesdale. He had a unique aura. Yet,” the mage’s voice trailed off.

“Saultzo, check the perimeter,” Travan commanded.

The Dwarves’ sergeant obeyed. The guards fanned out and entered the edge of the woods. Soon they returned.

“We found nothing,” the stalwart Dwarf said assuredly.

Al Prazolam was assigned  first watch this day with the young Dwarf Somma. Somma was a fairly worthless soldier. Al was not overjoyed with his company. The assignment of river duty was the least favorite of the Dwarves’ soldiers. It surpassed cleaning the latrines in unpopularity.

“I’m thought of as quite the ladies’ man back at Hillesdale, Al. I could give you some pointers,” the youth boasted.

“There will never be a time that Somma is as potent as Al Prazolam at anything, young whelp. I could drink you under any table and can hold my own with the ladies. I can out-fight you too. Too bad I can’t prove it! I wish that the Goblins were before me now,” the old Dwarf grumbled.

“Be careful what you wish, old guy,” Somma said with a quivering voice.

Al stood and squinted. The far side of the river was teeming with life and activity. Goblins were placing huge platforms made of wood into the river and linking them together.

Decima playfully tapped the red rod she held against her exposed right thigh. The Three Sisters shared ageless beauty, but Decima appeared younger than Nona and Mors. She flashed a glance at Rhiann and said, “Come to me, pretty one.”

Rhiann cleared his throat and asked, “Did you say you want me to…?”

Decima purred, “Yes, sit by me.” She patted the luxurious cushion on the settee.

Rhiann walked to her. Decima stood and took his hand. She then planted a soft lingering kiss against his lips. Rhiann felt every nerve ending in his body exploding and felt sensations of manhood that were new to him. When Decima pulled her lips away, he gasped. She queried, “What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?”

Rhiann flushed, stammered, and managed, “Oh, no, it was… pleasant. Very pleasant! It’s just… I’ve never kissed a woman before.”

Heavily armed Djinn stood on either side of hefty doors leading into the rotunda. The Djinn held halberds crossed before the door. When Chiron approached the pair snapped the weapons down to their side and stepped aside. Chiron announced his presence and a soft feminine voice bade him enter. The noble centaur opened the door. Mayard and Rhiann followed him inside.

A fetching female wearing a marvelous white robe and bearing a distaff opened the door. Her distaff held the unspun fibers of many colors and kept them untangled to ease the spinning process. Fiber was wrapped around the distaff, and tied in place with a piece of golden ribbon. Another white-robed woman stood near the center of the circular room and carried a red rod. A third similarly clad lady sat upon a plush chair and toyed with an ornate cutting shears. The woman nearest the door said, “Welcome back, Mayard Klarje, friend of Nature. What brings you to our home?”

Mayard bowed politely and replied, “Thank you, Nona, I come to seek audience and to acquaint my nephew Rhiann with your wonderful gardens. It’s my burden to relay to you events in Thynna.”

The tree sprite’s blue hair, mauve lips, and purple eyes contrasted with her bright green skin. Like Clouse, she seemed totally out of place in the World of the Three Suns but perfectly at home in the Green Vale. The sprite was about two-thirds the height of an average sized Drelve. Yannuvia, and therefore his green counterpart Clouse, was taller than most Drelves.

“You are rude, Spellweaver! Let me enjoy just one little buss!” the comely little sprite pleaded and drew near Clouse.

“I don’t see any harm in one kiss,” Clouse reasoned.

Before Yannuvia separated them, Clouse bent forward and kissed the sprite.

“Oh, no!” Yannuvia moaned. “He’s certainly charmed!”

The Spellweaver prepared a Dispel Magick Spell.

“Wait!” Clouse shouted. “What do you want to ask her?”

Yannuvia stopped Dispel Magick, extended his left forefinger and uttered instead the much simpler Detect Charm Spell. He studied first Clouse, then the Tree Sprite. Clouse was fine. The little sprite was charmed!

“Quickly, ask her name!” Yannuvia eagerly said.

“What is your name?” Clouse queried.

“Alexis. Lexie Glitch. I’m the Lady of the Trees,” the lovely little fairy answered.

“Amazing! Charming dweomers shouldn’t affect tree sprites, water sprites, and dryads!” Yannuvia marveled.

“She’s not immune to her spells, Spellweaver. She’s a dryad. Tree sprites are a bit shorter, another bit more mischievous, and more rambling. Lexie’s quite a temptress. May I kiss her again?” Clouse queried.

Rhiann answered, “No…no, I’d like to talk to you. My name is…NET. I’ve watched you tending the trees. I admire your great dedication. It looks like hard work. Are you a Tree Shepherd?”

The orchardist replied, “I’m not a shepherd. We don’t have any sheep. Some of the neighbors still have cows. I had to give mine up. Too much work to do in the orchard! NET? You’ve an odd name. Can’t say I’ve heard such. I just work the land and enjoy the orchard. Hard work doesn’t hurt a man! I’d rather work here for two full days than take a trip to Boone.”

Rhiann said, “So…you don’t like to travel.”

Garnet replied, “Can’t say I do. Have you traveled far?”

The sorcerer continued, “Yes…I’m not from these parts. What are local people commonly named?”

Garnet lifted back his worn cap a bit and again wiped his brow and followed, “That’s a might peculiar question. Have heard folks named Archer, Fisher, Hunter, and Bowman. But not ‘Net’.”

Rhiann felt a bit uncomfortable and continued, “NET is my, what do you say, cognomen? My mother named me Rhiann. You have a fine beast. What’s his name?”

Garnet quizzically asked, “Cognomen? Beast? You talk  funny, young fellow.”

Rhiann searched for words. His Comprehend Languages Spell was a bit weak on vernacular. After a few awkward moments he managed, “Nickname! NET is my nickname! It’s what my friends call me. The beast… the four-legged creature beside you. I can’t understand his tongue.”

Garnet chuckled, “That’s funny. His name is Drum. He’s a pretty good dog. If a man wanted to go hunting, Drum’s always done a good job, but he doesn’t talk much.”

Mayard led Rhiann across the cleared area and into the nearby woods. They came upon the merchant Lennard who held three large misty gunmetal gray equines by ornate bridles. The beasts’ three huge eyes were the reddest things Rhiann had beheld in his young life. The three eyes sparkled like red diamonds, the rarest of Sagain’s jewels. Mayard said the middle or third eye was blind. Rhiann found gazing upon the intriguing beasts pleasant and touched the nearest shadowy creature. Surprisingly his fingers met resistance from the ghostly equine form.

Rhiann asked, “Is that the Shapechanger who attacked you in Lennard’s store.”

Mayard answered, “One and the same. He’s become a steadfast ally. Of the many facades he might project, he figured looking like old Lennard might worry you the least. He’s getting along with the Cloudmares. I’ve procured the services of these three flying steeds.”

Rhiann commented, “Those beasts lack wings. I though you said we’d fly to the Hanging Gardens.”

Mayard answered, “Cloudmares don’t need wings. They blend in well with the clouds. Urra, Shyrra, and Syrrth are Maranna’s friends. They graze near her home Cragmore. They have agreed to carry us to the Hanging Gardens and allow the bridles to help us hold on.”

Jhade was the largest green dragon Taekora had seen. Her scales were emerald and pea green. A sea green cornea and lighter green sclera surrounded her dark slit-like feline pupils. Green dragon’s had no “whites of their eyes”- only greenness! In her state of alertness, Jhade’s long tail curled above and behind her and her innumerable scales rattled menacingly.

A wry smile crossed the green dragon’s face.

“Let’s get to it! Repel this!” Jhade shouted and spewed a cloud of thick gas, green of course, toward Taekora. The thick liquid splashed over the prismatic dragon and returned the earlier green tinge to her scales. This green was more easily removed than the green of envy.

Prismatic dragons were not affected by green dragon breath.

Taekora shook vigorously and sent green dragon spittle in all directions. The powerful acid within the thick gooey substance destroyed everything it touched. Plants sizzled!

“Confound it, you dirtied my scales!” Taekora protested.

Undaunted, Jhade inhaled deeply, exhaled, and sent a gust of rapidly spinning green smoke toward Taekora. A green tornado left the green dragon and covered the multi-hued Taekora. The swirling wind turned faster and faster as Jhade exhaled. The force of the windstorm turned Taekora violently. Jhade stopped exhaling and pounced toward her opponent, but Taekora stopped spinning and blocked the green dragon with a massive forepaw. Jhade thumped hard against the forepaw, but injured only her pride. Taekora had deftly retracted her sword like talons when she held up her forepaw. Jhade crashed backward to the ground, rolled over three times, quickly righted herself, and braced for a counterattack that did not come. The green she-dragon remained uninjured.

Angrily, Jhade uttered a three-phrase incantation. A Magick Missile streaked from the green dragon’s left forepaw and struck Taekora.

Taekora shrugged.

Prismatic dragons possessed an innate Shield Spell, which gave immunity to Magick Missiles.

Jhade said something in the green dragon tongue.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Taekora chided.

Jhade conjured the Confusion Spell. The accuracy of the green dragon’s incantation surprised Taekora, but the spell didn’t work.

Prismatic dragons were resistant to Confusion Spells.

Jhade roared and uttered a Power Word Stun. Taekora had seldom known a green dragon to cast spells, let alone a Seventh Level Spell like Stun. This was working out better than she had hoped. The Stun Spell reflected and walloped Jhade.

Ravenna said, “Then I’m truly honored to meet you, Natalie, and you as well, Prince Vanni.”

“Then the honor is mine and this should be in your hands,” Vanni uttered and extended Exeter, his brilliant sword, toward the elf.

“Your gesture honors me, but I never carried the Blade of Truth, Prince Vanni. The blade is an heirloom of the Aivendar clan. My being Captain of the Rangers was honor enough. I was always better with the bow and quiver. As Captain, I chose to leave the blade in the hands of the Aivendars. I don’t think the spirit of the blade would enjoy being held by a female,” Ravenna answered.

Exeter, the Blade of Truth, telepathically warned her wielder of the presence of enemies. The Captain of the Rangers, traditionally the oldest son of the monarch, had carried the blade since the days of Eigren Aivendar, the first king of Donothor. The soothing feminine voice of the blade had saved its wielder many times.

Vanni grasped the hilt and started to place the artifact into her hilt when he heard the alluring voice in his mind, “The older elf female is not as I remember her. But I never fully understood her when your ancestor Tyllmon carried me in the Iron Mountains War. When I study her essence, I sense only grayness. Be wary!”

A great statue stood in the market place that dominated the area before Lyndyn’s great opened gates. The figures were those of a hardened woman armed with a purplish blade and a massive man. Ravenna stared at the statue.

Erinnia spoke, “Lyana Rikmon, the heroine of the war against the demon, and her life-mate Big Jon Loxly. We all owe our lives to them.”

Ravenna nodded respectfully. The party left their ponies in the good care of Lyndyn’s farriers. Escorts led them from the bustling commercial area to the central tower and residence of King Eomore.

Ravenna noted, “Some things remain the same. The castle remains much as I remember.”

“It is kept the same to honor the memory of those who have gone before,” Knarra answered.

A stalwart chap who wore a cloak with the crest of the Aivendars and carried in its sheath a magnificent blade and a young female Ranger approached.  The man beckoned, “It is good to see you, my friends. Erinnia, I was unaware that you had a sister!”

Erinnia answered, “She is my lineage, Prince Vanni. This is Ravenna Nocerre. Ravenna, this is Vanni Aivendar, Captain of the Rangers and Prince of Donothor.”

Vanni gasped, “I…you’re lost…you are dead!”

“Not quite dead!” Ravenna quipped.

“But you must be a thousand…” Vanni began.

“Years old…actually older,” Ravenna admitted.

The young female Ranger said, “You are said to be the greatest archer in Donothor’s history. Are you up for a challenge?”

Ravenna answered, “I might be a bit rusty.”

Vanni chuckled, “Please meet Natalie Hainz. She is my finest archer.”

Ravenna said, “Hainz. I was honored to fight beside a Ranger of uncommon valor named Timi Hainz in the Iron Mountains War.”

Natalie Hainz replied, “Timi was my ancestor.”

Ravenna said, “Then I’m truly honored to meet you.”