Company+of+the+Phoenix+Session+21

 **4-14-2017** **Trouble With Hillsfar - Investigation into the Fort - And another Shawdowvar**

The companions had returned to Myth Drannor with the shaman of the wolfen whom they had brought to meet with The Rose. They informed the queen's right hand that they were able to help the wolfen by defeating their crazed former leader and a shard of Sarya.

They stumbled across rumors circling about Tiri being engaged to Mellevrim Windsong... "Tell me more of your betrothed," Alaric turned to the blue-haired priestess. Tiri's blue eyes sparked fury, "I am not engaged. I do not have a betrothed." "People seem to think you are betrothed... Are you sure you are not?" the golden-haired sorcerer continued on, "Did your parents perhaps make the arrangements? It is quite common in Cormyr, especially among noble families." "My parents would do no such thing, I assure you," she shook her head, "They wouldn't dream of marrying off their very young and only daughter... especially behind my back. That's not how my family works. I am not engaged." "So this is something that the young man or his parents perhaps got into their head?" he inquired further. "Possibly..." she nodded.

"Don't worry... We wont leave you behind," Charlemagne patted her shoulder, pausing in thought, "Unless there's a price... We could possibly be persuaded to look the other way." "Nice," Tiri frowned at him, "I feel so loved." "He's just kidding," Alaric laughed, "You're part of the Company of the Phoenix now... it's like... like family." The muscular warrior nodded his agreement, "Of course! We are closer than family! You're like the sister that I never had... that survived." "What?" she blinked at him. "I mean..." he shook his head, quickly changing the subject, "Weren't we here for a cure?" She nodded, "Yes, I gave the letter to my parents and my father was going to send out requests to other places." "We should check with your father on a time estimate on that then," Alaric nodded, "As we do still need to make it back to Cormyr." "Yes. We're supposed to be meeting Quarrelle . Hopefully she'll have some information from Nilyniel ," Tiri nodded, "We'll check with my parents then. Be sure there is nothing that they need before we leave."

Haemir was penning a letter at his desk as the companions entered. "Father," Tiri greeted him warmly. "Ahh you have returned," he smiled, looking up at her, "Things are well?" "Yes, we were able to help the wolfen in the forest," she answered. "Wolfen?" he raised an eyebrow at his daughter. "Yes," she nodded, "The Rose asked us to go. We are apparently working to build relations with them. They have only recently returned to our realm... they had been taken by the fae and were able to return only recently." "Very good then," he nodded, taking her word for it.

"How are the letters going?" she asked him, cascades of blue curls falling over one shoulder as she leaned against the desk, "Is there anything else we can do?" "This is just an inventory for the shop," the elven nobleman gestured at the paper, "I have already sent several out calling in favors and asking if anyone can point us in the right direction with whatever is going on with More'nue . I'm hoping to receive replies any day." "Would you like us to stay then? So that we can carry information back with us?" she asked. Haemir frowned, "It is hard to say... it depends on the information we receive. If it comes in the form of a cure or information to follow up on. I know that you and your friends are already involved with political entanglements, and I would not want to hold you up on a family account." Tiri frowned, "He is important." "I agree," he nodded genuinely, "But matters of the crown are at stake." She nodded, "If you hear or need anything... you know how to find me." "Yes," he nodded, "We will send word."

Haemir bowed to her companions, "Thank you all for coming. It has been a pleasure to meet you." "Thank you for having us," Alaric nodded, "It has been a pleasure to meet Tiri's family and her people. Myth Drannor is a beautiful city." "The elves of Cormanthor should be in league with the city of Cormyr. It has been a long standing alliance," the elven tailor nodded. Alaric nodded, "As Tiri said... if there is anything that you need from the Company of the Phoenix... Simply send word to my household in Suzail and it will reach us."

 The companions packed their bags with fresh supplies and had their horses readied. Tiri penned a very warm letter to Lady Windsong thanking her for the dinner invitation and letting her know that she would be unable to attend. "Penning a letter to your mother-in-law?" Charlemagne leaned against the wall as Tiri passed the envelope to a messenger with instructions. "Noooo," Tiri shook her head, "To my best friend's mother... Iowyn is my best friend." "It's because he doesn't have a gryphon, isn't it?" Alaric joined them. "Well that doesn't help," Tiri winked back at him. As if on cue... the call of a gryphon squad could be heard over head.

The companions looked up to the sky to see a small squad flying the colors of Highmoon. One of them had a rider over his lap and there was blood spattered over the gryphon's wing! "That doesn't look good," the young priestess shook her head. "We should go to see if your services are needed," Alaric nodded his agreement. "Yes, let's go see what happened," Charlemagne easily mounted his horse, directing the others to follow. Tiri led them along the shortest route on the ground to the aerial stables. They arrived in time to see the riders dismounting and the one pulling off his companion who was grievously wounded. Without a second thought, the blue haired elven woman slid off of her horse and ran to his side, placing her hands near the gaping spear wound on his body, and muttered prayers to Corellion to mend his wounds, "What were you attacked by?" "Humans... north of here," the scout beside her answered. "Humans?" Charlemagne asked in surprise. "There is an encampment to the north," he nodded, "They are pushing into the elven wood." Tiri blinked in shock, "What were you all doing so far to the north?" "We had heard there had been attacks there, and upon a fly over to scout it out... we were attacked," he explained.

"What can we do to help?" Tiri asked. "It is not of your concern, m'lady," he assured her. "Is there anyone else hurt? Are the gryphons alright?" she asked as she looked them all over. "Everyone who made it here is alright," he nodded, patting his now conscious friend, "And he will survive." "That's more than I can say for the man who shot him," Charlemagne muttered, obviously bothered by the attack on the squad. She frowned, nodding her agreement toward the warrior behind her before turning back to the scout, "Do you have a cleric among your group?" "No... it is the reason we returned here," he answered. "I will speak personally to my high priestess to see if i can arrange someone to go with you," Tiri insisted. "That is very generous of you, but I assure you it is not necessary," he replied. "It would make me feel better. I would go with you myself, but I have other obligations," she gestured to her companions around her.

"This group of humans... did they bear the heraldry of anyone? Were they an armed force? Or were they wood cutters?" Alaric inquired further. "They have built a small fort on the edge of the wood," the elven gryphon rider answered. "Hmm so more than wood cutters... they don't typically built a fort," Alaric nodded. "As I said we had heard of some recent altercations to the north, so we had come to see for ourselves what kind of force was being set upon us... they have indeed built a fort and are mounting attacks," the scout replied. "That's terrible," Tiri shook her head, "The queen will want to know." "When the queen finds out... she will crush them beneath the armored heel of her boot," he nodded. "As she should," Tiri agreed, "No one comes into our forest declaring war without war being taken back." "The closest power to the north is Hillsfar ... the red plumes. They don't much care for elves," Alaric added thoughtfully, " Zhentil Keep is up that way as well, and they are definitely not nice people."

"Surely we're going to go check it out," Charlemagne insisted to his mage cousin, "We can't just go home now." Alaric frowned... it felt like they were already under so many obligations, so he reviewed the issues with his companions. * More'nue still unconscious and under some sort of dark curse. Messages have been sent. Waiting for more info / lead. * The desert people and the strange shadovar with them stirring up trouble. Responsible for orcs and possibly more. They want the three keys. Supposed to meet back with Quarelle with information or direction from Nilyniel. * The black lantern that was made for the lich's tomb... Follow up with Nilyniel who was investigating the tomb after we returned the lantern from Eveningstar. * Follow a lead on Brunish - the dwarven son of Nex Soulbring (creator of the chamber and three keys). Brunish was supposedly to the northeast of Cormyr. Possibly in Cormanthor? * Investigate the human fort and attacks in the northern Cormanthor forest. Hillsfar. * Finish getting the orcs out of Cormyr. (Tower reward)

"So what should be the priority?" Charlemagne asked. "While we're here in Myth Drannor, we should try to find any additional lead on this Brunish fellow. Certainly there would be elves here that were still alive when he came through. Let's ask around," Alaric answered, "We can start with any dwarves in the area and the elven smiths." Tiri nodded her agreement, "There aren't any dwarves here that I know of, but I can take you to the best and the eldest of the local smiths."

"I do recall the name Brunish," the elven smith nodded to the companions, "He's passed through here a few times over the years." "Do you know what business he had here or if he stayed at the inn?" Charlemagne asked, "Go to the bar perhaps?" The smith nodded," He stayed at the local inn just up the road there. There's a tavern inside." "Did he purchase any supplies from you? Anything you can remember?" Alaric asked. "He did," the elven man nodded, "Survival tools. Pitons, spikes, grappling hooks... I think he bought a pick." "Do you think he's here in the forest?" Tiri asked. "It's been about 6 months since I seen him," the smith nodded. "How frequent do you see him?" the gold haired sorcerer inquired further. "About once a year," the elven smith replied.

The companions thanked the smith and headed off to the inn, describing the dwarf to the innkeeper. The innkeeper recognized the description, saying the dwarf always had friends... offering to buy rounds quite often, "There was a man with him the last two times he was there though. I can't recall his name. A youngish fellow. Your ages, maybe a touch older. Dark hair. Traveler's clothes." "Did he wear any heraldry?" Alaric asked, "Did they seem like partners? friends?" "He just wore traveler's clothes. Didn't seem to be nobility," the innkeeper answered, "They were friends. The dwarf was harassing him about trying to grow a beard. ...He may have had a slight Cormyrian accent." Alaric nodded, "We can certainly leave word here and with the smith that if he returns to send word... There aren't really any mountain ranges that are close to here, so I don't know where he might be mining."

The innkeeper paused in thought, and nodded, "He did remark something about finding some lost... keep?" "Is that familiar to you? Some place in the woods?" Alaric asked. The bartender at the inn told them there were many stories... over the years several civilizations had risen and fallen in the woods, and it was likely one of those. "So he's been coming here to resupply as he's been searching for this keep," Alix nodded. "And perhaps he's found it and is now working there," Charlemagne suggested. Alaric nodded to the bartender, "Did he sound like he was still looking for this lost keep? or more like he has found it?" "He doesn't complain about looking for it anymore," the bartender answered. "What does he use for currency?" Charlemagne asked. "Gems typically... though he has some coins of the realm," the bartender nodded. "How are we going to find a dwarf in the woods?" Charlemagne asked his cousin. Alaric shook his head, "The forest is too vast... we'll just have to leave word here and come back when he is in town."

"Which of these buildings is the local elven brothel?" Charlemagne turned to Tiri. The elven priestess shook her head, "We don't have one of those here..." "Perhaps we can ask the gryphon riders if they've seen the dwarf in the patrols," the elven woman suggested. "Certainly," Alaric nodded, "Since you healed them, they may be more apt to talk to you." The group easily found the squadron, and asked about the dwarf. "We haven't seen anything on our patrols," the gryphon rider shook his head, "But I do think I know the dwarf you're talking about. Crazy little bugger. I seen him here in the crescent city. He was going on and on and on about this lost keep. He had a dwarvish name for it, but I can't recall it." "Did he have a human traveling companion?" Alaric asked. "Yes. A young man..." the rider paused as he tried to recall, "Patrick... that was his name." "Was he crazy or more even tempered?" Alaric nodded. "More even tempered. Seemed to be keeping the dwarf out of trouble," the elven man answered. "He wasn't a Rallyhorn, was he?" Charlemagne asked. The gryphon rider thought harder, "Wyvernspur... Patrick Wyvernspur." "We rescued a couple of Wyvernspurs," Alaric nodded, "That gives us a good lead to follow in Cormyr."

"What brings such hardy folk to the crescent city?" the elven rider asked them. "We came to deliver a letter," Tiri answered. "It must have been quite the letter for such a party," the gryphon rider blinked in surprise. "It was rather important," the elven priestess nodded, "Are you familiar with what happened to my brother in Cormyr?" "Yes, we heard," the rider nodded. "We're in search for a cure," Tiri nodded. The young squad leader nodded, "Then may Corellion aid you in your search, young priestess." "Thank you, my friend," Tiri curtsied graciously, "And may he always watch over you and yours." "Do you think I could borrow one of your gryphons?" Alix eyed the squad leader. The gryphon rider looked him over curiously, "Are you trained to ride them?" "Surely it's just like riding a horse," the young nobleman slayer countered. The gryphon rider laughed, "You keep thinking that, young sir." He bowed to the priestess before gathering with his men to return to Highmoon.

"So do we have anything else we need to do before returning to our homeland?" Alaric asked, looking over his group. "If we are to look into this fort, we are certainly closer to there than to Cormyr," Tiri answered, "But if you're wanting to wait on that, then we can be on our way." "Let's go check it out, Cousin," Charlemagne nodded. The golden haired sorcerer mulled it over, "Keep in mind that if we investigate this place... and it's true that they don't like elves... then we can't take Tiri with us." He gestured at the young elven priestess. "We'll disguise her," the muscular warrior shrugged, "We could clip her ears." Tiri gasped, placing her hands on the side of her head to cover them, "No one is clipping my ears!" "We can certainly check it out if we leave Tiri safely behind," Alaric agreed. "We'll work it out when we get there," Charlemagne nodded to his cousin before turning toward the priestess, "I would do this for you, my lady. They shall pay for their indiscretions!" Tiri blinked in surprise, but then quickly curtsied, "I would be honored, my lord, and I am grateful." "I vow my allegiance to the elven people til the end of time," he raised his fiery sword up proudly. "I am glad to hear it!" The blue haired elven woman brought out her own blade, Oath Keeper, and rang it against his, "For The People!" Alix rolled his eyes, "I vow my allegiance to whomever pays me the most."

"Do you think we should speak to someone of importance? Tell them what we're doing before we head out?" Alaric suggested. "I already pledged my allegiance, Cousin. We have to go now," Charlemagne turned toward the sorcerer as he sheathed his blade. "Well it may aid us if there were to be gryphon riders overhead and see us humans," Alaric continued. "We can seek an audience with The Rose," Tiri nodded, "He will want to inform the queen anyway, I'm sure." Alaric nodded, "Let's do that then." They received word that The Rose would see them the following morning...

"Did you want to go see your Mother-in-law then?" the young sorcerer turned to Tiri, She met his gaze with a steel blue glare, "She is not my mother-in-law. Lady Windsong is Iowyn's mother and a friend. There is no match between her half-brother and I." "Let's go find the brothel then and finish this night out," Charlemagne changed the subject. "As I've said, there isn't a brothel in Myth Drannor," the priestess shook her head. "Sure there is! I'll be the one to find it," he nodded with great certainty. "You know, Charlemagne," Alaric clapped his cousin's shoulder, "If you're charming enough... you don't have to pay for it." "Blasphemy!" the lord Rallyhorn bellowed, "I don't know who told you that, but it's a lie! You always pay for it."

Charlemagne sough out the rangers to find Urd. "Little Ears," one of them nodded, and gestured down the pathway, "She's at the bath house." Charlemagne thanked him and went to dress in his finer clothing before going to meet her.

Tiri was deciding whether or not to journey to the Windsong estate when Alaric turned to the young priestess, "I could solve your problem for you." "You would like to go with me?" she asked. "No," he smiled, "But if you had a reason that you were unable to go and see your Mother-in-law..." "She's NOT my mother in law. I'm NOT married! I'm not even engaged! There is no betrothal! I'm a single woman and perfectly independent!" she shouted at him, her fiery temper showing. He took her hands in his, trying to calm her long enough to speak, "If you would like a reason to be unavailable... I could give you that reason... You could go on a date with me." She stared at him, a little stunned, and finally silent. Did he just ask her out on a date? Alaric continued, "I mean surely there are still places here that we haven't been to here in the Crescent City... I would do this for you... Unless, of course, you want to go."

Tiri frowned, "Iowyn's mother is not the problem... it's her half-brother." "What is the problem with him?" the sorcerer asked. Tiri scowled as she thought about Mellivrim. That obnoxious, arrogant, and loathsome wretch didn't deserve the point on his ears let alone the sister he had. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl, and it was all she could muster to be polite to him. "His personality lacks," the young priestess finally answered. "Well he would see you out with me and know that you have other interests," he offered. Tiri considered the offer for a moment, and then nodded, "Certainly. You would like to go out for dinner then?" "And dancing?" he suggested, "I would love to go dancing with you." "Of course!" she nodded and smiled, "I know a place."

Just as Charlemagne went to walk into the bath house, Urd came walking out. The beautiful Cormyrian woman blinked in surprise, "Charlemagne! I wasn't expecting you." Diaphanous elven silk clung to her lithe body. "I figured I would stop by... to see you," he smiled, "We're leaving in the morning to check on the human fort up north that was giving the gryphon riders a hard time. We're going to go up there and... deal with it. So I thought I would come and see you... See if maybe you would like to join us... or not... in which case I would say that it was nice to see you again and hope to see you in the future." Urd blinked her wide brown eyes, "You're... rambling on." "Oh, well I tend to do that on the night before battle... and I expect at least a little battle tomorrow. So..." Charlemagne tried to explain. "I have heard that the fort there is quite hardened," the young woman replied. "It makes it more fun that way. Sometimes a good challenge is all you need to get the blood flowing," the muscular warrior spoke with earnest, making a fist to enhance his last words before pausing in thought and adding, "Wait... that might not be such a good thing." "I was going to say that we should not speak of such things before going into a battle," Urd agreed, and tilted her head, "So you came to me to... alleviate your nervousness?" "Like I said... I thought maybe you would be up for an adventure. Travel north with us for a little side trip... Spend some bonding time with fellow compatriots," Charlemagne suggested. "Fellow countrymen as it were?" she smiled. "Exactly!" he nodded.

She walked along the path, glancing back to see if Charlemagne was following her. He moved up to walk beside her. She nodded, continuing along, "As it turns out... there is nothing that I am obligated to do tomorrow, so I do have some free time." "Well that is fortuitous! It would be advantageous to have you along on this little adventure," he replied. "What are your intentions?" she asked him. "Tonight or tomorrow?" he replied. She smiled, "Tomorrow." "We plan to travel north and find this fort. If needs be we will crush them like the bugs they are," he replied. "You are quite gallant," she nodded to him, impressed. "Well I don't like how our elven friends have been treated," he explained, "It is quite disrespectful." "I agree," she nodded. "So we should probably try to get down to the bottom of it," he continued, "If we can not dissuade them or somehow convince them to stop what they are doing... then we'll just have to eradicate the problem."

"I am not opposed to a reconnaissance mission," she offered, "but as far as an all out attack... I hear that there are about a hundred men there." "Well that's going to be just about even then," he smiled. Urd laughed genuinely, and nudged his arm. "I'll leave some for you," he winked at her. "You are a Rallyhorn, aren't you?" she grinned, "Very good, I will accompany you in the morning." "Excellent! I will inform the rest of the company that you will be joining us," he nodded. "Oh! So there is more than just you and I?" she asked. "This evening?" he asked with surprise, "My dear, what did you have in mind? I mean I suppose one or two more... who am I to say?" She laughed again. "No, no, the rest of the company will be joining us tomorrow. I wouldn't be quite so boastful if I were going alone," he smiled. She nodded, "When do we leave?" "We have a meeting in the morning after breakfast, and then we shall gather our gear and move out," he answered. "I will see you in the morning then," she nodded to him. "Very good. It has been a pleasure talking with you, and I'm glad you are going with us," he nodded. He practically floated back down the pathway as he made his exit.

Tiri walked with Alaric, coming from one of the fine restaurants in one of the white spires, "Aren't you dating one of the princesses in Cormyr?" "Dating is a strong word," he answered a little defensively, "I've been on one date with her." "Alright," she nodded, "I was under the impression that you had a special interest in her." "One? My cousin?" Charlemagne laughed as he came down the walkway to join them, "Let me get the book..." He flipped through several pages, counting aloud, "One, two, three, Oh the twins! Cousin, I had forgotten about the twins." "He makes this stuff up," Alaric laid a hand on the priestess's arm, shaking his head. She looked from one to the other, "I don't know... he looks pretty genuine. I mean he has documentation." "So did you get her to put on the engagement ring before going to see her boyfriend?" Charlemagne asked Alaric, "Trying that one again? That was my favorite!" "What?!" Tiri blinked wide blue eyes. "I mean... nothing... I'll just go back over here... by myself," Charlemagne shook his head, slowing his steps to fall behind them. "As you can see... he's not exactly my wingman," Alaric sighed, shaking his head.

The three met up with Alix as they headed for the dancing hall. The young slayer was talking about looking to flirt with some women. "You know," Alaric spoke to him, "We happen to be traveling with women... one of them is a bit... bush, but the other is quite nimble and beautiful. One of the King's Swords." He gestured toward Rhain, "Maybe you could invite her out." Alix nodded to him, accepting the suggestion. Charlemagne took his time getting to the dance hall, hanging back from the others to take in the sights and smell of the elven city. Inside, the hall was crowded... filled with beautiful elven people who were friendly. There was an open ceiling, allowing the moon and stars to shine inside. Pillars carved to look like trees formed a circular dance floor. As the branches wove up, they formed tiers of balconies and a partial ceiling. There was a bar on each tier. There was a band of bards magically amplified so that the music could be heard at about the same level on each tier. Floating colorful spheres hung in the air throughout the hall. A few girls walked on the different tiers, selling flowers from baskets, "One coin." Other girls were walking around with drinks on trays. One girl came out in a long silken robe with several rings on display. The crowd immediately surrounded the elven woman, clamoring for the tokens. As the various couples put on their rings, they began to fly as they danced... soaring between the tiers of balconies in the tall open dance area. Alix stared agape at the floating dancers, glancing down at the drink in his hand for a moment before returning his stare to the spectacle before him. The young elven woman with the rings made her way over nearer to the companions, "10 gold each." Alaric nodded without batting an eye, placing 20 gold coins into the woman's hand for a pair of rings. "Shall we?" the charismatic sorcerer offered the priestess next to him one of the rings. She smiled as she slipped the ring onto her finger, letting the rings clink together as she slipped her hand into his, "At your lead." Suavely, Alaric led her around the floor, floating upward as they danced. Alix bought a pair of rings, handing the gold to the elven woman a little begrudgingly. He walked up to Rhain, offering her a ring on his open palm, "Would you like to dance with me?" The blonde haired woman nodded, sliding the ring onto her finger. Rhain was a very adept dancer... trained for the balls at court as a Sword of the King. They too began to float up toward the top as they danced. Charlemagne sat down at the bar, enjoying a light and fruity ale as he watched the people dancing at the center of the tiers. The colorful spheres about the room floated up among the dancers. Alaric wove a prestidigitation spell over a couple of the nearby spheres to throw colorful sparks around him and Tiri... the sparkles clinging to their hair and clothing like jewelry. Impressed by his charm and flare, the young priestess melted slightly into his arms... the outward world seemed to fade away and she forgot all about the engagement and betrothal rumors and teasing. Charlemagne sipped his ale, and felt a tap on his elbow. A familiar feminine voice leaned in close to rib him, "You should be in bed." He turned to see Urd standing beside him, a playful smirk on her lips. Before he could say a word, she shook her head at him with mock disapproval, "You're looking up their skirts. Don't lie to me." "A gentleman would never!" he replied with feigned offense. "But you would," she countered. "I might," he nodded, "But I'm reflecting and relaxing on our last night here." "A hundred men..." she warned with a wink, "You should probably get some shut eye." Alix looked down to see his cousin with the renounced princess, and before he could yell to them to just kiss already... he found that as he looked down, he began to fly downward. Rhain snapped her fingers, drawing his attention back to her. She gestured to her eyes, "Eyes up here." He stabilized his flight as he settled his eyes back on his dance partner. Other couples were swirling around them as they danced. It was beautiful and romantic. "Are you alright, Tiri? You look a little uncomfortable," Alaric looked over the priestess with concern as they danced. She nodded, "I'm alright... I'm just not used to dancing without the ground beneath my feet." He smiled, "We could return to the ground if you would be more comfortable." "No, no. It's... it's perfect up here," she smiled and relaxed, letting him lead her. He nodded, pulling her closer, "I like it as well. I hope to master flight one day, so that I may rain fire down upon my foes." "Such aspirations..." she nodded, "It is certainly a useful skill to wield." "I have grand aspirations," he agreed, "But none of them compare to being up here with you." Her blue eyes skeptically scanned his face to find that he seemed genuine, and she smiled, "You really can be charming when you want to be." "I do try. I hope that you are having a wonderful time and that your thoughts are solely upon us," he nodded to her. "I'm having the best time," she nodded, "Thank you." "Did you enjoy our little dance, Rhain?" Alix asked as they returned to the ground. "Quite," she answered, "Did you?" "Yes," he nodded, leading her back to join the others. The four regathered to return to the Embermoon estate. Alaric gently kissed the back of Tiri's hand, standing outside of her room, "We should get some sleep. It should be an interesting journey tomorrow." She nodded, "Indeed. I'll see you in the morning." Urd finished her drink and picked up Charlemagne's, taking a long gulp from his as well. He signaled the bartender to bring them two more to go. He walked Urd back to her room where he kissed the back of her hand, "My lady... Until tomorrow." As the group rounded up in the morning for breakfast, Alaric tried to keep his warrior cousin focused, "Remember, Charlemagne... we're only going out to do reconnaissance." "I'm going to show them the error of their ways," Charlemagne replied. "We're not going to attack and declare war on a foreign nation," Alaric shook his head. "I wouldn't do that," the muscular warrior shrugged. "If you butcher them... that's what will happen," the sorcerer explained. "I simply need to gesture to the trees and tell them that there are a thousand elves waiting in the leaves and all I need to do is make a gesture," the lord Rallyhorn assured him. "Mmmhmm... how's your bluff?" Alaric asked. Charlemagne thought about it for a moment. He could certainly tell a story... and exaggerate with the best of them... but lying? Mmm that wasn't really his strongsuit, "You make a fine point, Cousin." "Well for all you know there may be a thousand elves in the forest," Alaric nodded, "But we can at least go and check on this fort."

The companions spoke with The Rose after breakfast. "A reconnaissance mission to find out what they want or what they're purpose is would be most welcome," the hand of the Queen nodded to them, "But understand that I can not authorize an attack. If something happens, certainly defend yourselves. If it goes to that extent... I have only two options. The first would be to disavow anything I know of you. The second would be to pray that you kill them all. I have heard varying stories and information, but I've heard as many as one hundred men." "We understand. We will go to find out what we can," Alaric replied. "I bid you a good journey then," The Rose nodded. Tiri smiled, "Hopefully we shall see you again soon."

The companions gathered together on their horses, and the young sorcerer again tried to keep his war-ready cousin focused, "Alright. So you have the mission parameters, Charlemagne?" "Yes, dear," the muscled warrior sighed out, his long brown hair flowing behind him. Urd, Karlissa, Rhain, and Nalen rode up to meet them. "Lady Urd, what are you doing here?" Alaric asked, surprised. "I invited her along. I figured the more, the merrier," Charlemagne answered. "We welcome your company," Tiri nodded to her. Alaric raised an eyebrow at his warrior companion, "That would have been pleasant for you to mention last night." "I'm sorry, Cousin. If I thought you were more important, I would have let you know," Charlemagne responded, sitting proudly on his horse. The elven priestess's eyes went wide in surprise, and she placed a hand to cover her mouth, muffling the laughter. The nobleman sorcerer huffed at his cousin, unrolling the document of their company, "Who is written here as the leader of this company? Alaric Goldsword... Rallyhorn is only mentioned in a footnote." Charlemagne ignored the document, brushing it aside as he continued, "Besides... you seemed preoccupied with your dancing, and I didn't want to interrupt." "That I can understand," Alaric settled down into his saddle, "Tiri deserved my undivided attention." "Such a gentleman..." Tiri slipped up between the two, "Shall we?" "Let's," Urd nodded to her. Charlemagne nodded his agreement.

"I'm sure Tiri knows the way. There are no demons to the north, are there?" Alaric asked as they rode out of the city. "There are demons everywhere," Charlemagne answered. Tiri nodded her agreement. "The High priestess would never forgive me if I allowed one of her own to be killed," Urd replied, riding to the front, "I'll take point." "I'm certain that none of your sisters would forgive us if we allowed you to be killed either," Alaric disagreed with her. "What they don't know wont hurt them," Urd shrugged her shoulders, continuing to the front. Charlemagne moved up to ride beside her.

Two days travel to the north they ran across the first patrol. They dismounted and crouched low in the woods. Charlemagne turned to Tiri, "Pull your hood up. Try not to look elvish." The priestess nodded, drawing a deep blue hood over her head, losing her face in it's shadows. There were a half dozen men in armor on horses. Red plumes on their helmets signaled them as Hillsfar soldiers. "They're certainly not loggers," Alaric shook his head, "We could go introduce ourselves. Tiri, you should stay back." "I will stay with her," Urd suggested, also dressed very elven. Charlemagne nodded his agreement.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Charlemagne was the first to greet them as the six of them rode closer to meet the patrol. The six soldiers slowed their mounts, "Hail, travelers." Alaric unfurled the Phoenix banner, "Greetings, captain. I am Alaric Goldsword of Cormyr. We are an adventuring company, the Company of the Phoenix. We are surprised to see men of Hillsfar so far from home. We thought only demons and elves lurked in these forests." "One and the same, aren't they?" the red-plumed soldier responded. Immediately Alaric caught the tension that stiffened his warrior cousin's shoulders. The Hillsfar man didn't seem to notice, "We could use a good mercenary squad who's used to traveling these woods. Make you some good coin too." "What are you looking for?" Alaric asked. "We'll pay you a hundred gold a head," the soldier nodded. "Of what?" Alix looked at him, confused. "Elven heads, lad," the captain nodded. "You're hunting elves?" Alaric asked at the same time as Charlemagne spoke, "What seems to be the problem, my fine sir?" "Yes, I was unaware of the hostility between you and the elves," Alaric continued quickly, "I didn't know we'd wandered into a war zone. Many opportunities then?"

"We've been at war since they returned... taking the woods that are rightfully ours," the Hillsfar soldier replied, "The filth! They think that just because their ancestors lived here that they have rights to this land? They fled. They were beaten outright by a better army. An army which has since left which gives us full right to this." Tiri growled in the shadows of the woods, her ears burning a brilliant blue beneath her hood, "Oh but they were sure afraid to come into the wood with the demons before we got here. Full rights... Greedy cowards more like it!" The priestess muttered angrily to herself as she wove her divine magic. Urd nodded her agreement, but motioned her to be silent. Charlemagne felt himself grow stronger as his muscles bulked up beneath his armor. Feeling the presence of the priestess behind them, he resisted the urge to glance back, but smiled as he sat confidently on his horse. "Such news has not traveled so far to Cormyr," Alaric nodded to the patrolman, "I was unaware of open hostilities." "Cormyr has never put their heads out to help us in our affairs," the hillsfar man snorted, "So we saw no need to make them aware." "Cousin, he seems a little crabby this morning," Charlemagne's taunt rang out. "What seems to be the problem?" Alix asked. Urd pulled her bow off of her shoulder, knocking an arrow as she watched quietly. "War is an unpleasant business," Alaric responded, doing his best to keep the tensions lowered, "But you said something about coin? 100 gold?" "Aye. 100 gold per head," the squad leader nodded.

"So how many elves have you seen?" Alaric asked. "Ah, we've been luckless this morning," the Hillsfar man frowned. Alaric nodded, "They are pretty good at hiding in the woods." "Eh," the soldier snorted. "We just killed three or four... left them back there," Charlemagne gestured behind them, "Didn't know there was a price on their head." The muscled warrior played visions out in his head of leading the squad into the woods after the "dead elves" and killing them all. "Sounds like you're our kind of men," the soldier nodded. "Who is it we should speak to about bringing heads in to get paid?" Alaric asked, "Is there an encampment nearby?" "We have a fort not too far north of here," the soldier gestured, "You can talk to either Captain Albright or to General Halbrick." "Excellent! I was hoping we wouldn't have to travel all the way to Hillsfar," Alaric nodded, "Do you hear that men? 100 gold per head." "Company of the Phoenix, you said?" the patrolman nodded, pulling out a document and writing out the name.

Charlemagne leaned close, whispering to the sorcerer beside him, "He has our name... you realize he can't live." "He's merely noting that he spoke with us. That hardly indicates anything," Alaric whispered his disagreement. "Our name is still listed as being in the area when this all goes down," Charlemagne insisted. "Are you implying that we are the kind of people that would burn down a fort, killing them all to a man?" Alaric blinked at him, "What kind of barbarians, are we?" "Is there more than one kind, Cousin?" Charlemagne asked. "Save your energy for the elves," Alaric spoke louder, "We could go back to Cormyr as rich men."

"That you could, lads," the red-plumed soldier nodded. "Very well," Alaric nodded to the patrol, "Good hunting to you then, men... but not too good." "We'll leave you some," the squad leader grinned, "What was your name?" "Alaric Goldsword," Alaric replied. "Very good. If you make it to the camp, let them know we sent you," the soldier nodded. "And your name?" Alaric asked. "Marcus Orellius," the patrolman nodded. After their farewell, the squad rode their horses with skill through the woods... it was obvious that they were chosen for the mission because they were used to the wood.

The group returned to Urd and Tiri, who had heard more than enough of the conversation. The priestess was in a rage, with her cheeks and ears almost a bright blue from the blood that boiled in her veins. Urd was walking with her bow knocked, aiming toward the squad leader, "We're going to take him, right? We're going to take him?" "Not yet, Urd. Not yet," Alix tried to calm her, "Leave him for later." "Filth!" Urd muttered several unseemly elven words. Charlemagne was in no condition to calm her, barely keeping his own rage in check. After a few moments, the round eared ranger seemed focused, "Hillsfar and the elves have never had a good relationship... but it's certainly never been this openly hostile." "They're outright hunting elves!" Tiri spat, "100 gold a head." "That's a pretty good price," Rhain replied thoughtfully. Tiri turned her steel gaze toward the swordswoman, making her realize the practical thought wasn't as appreciated by the elf beside her. "You're worth far much more to me," Charlemagne clapped the priestess on the shoulder, pulling her attention back. "Thank you," Tiri nodded to him. "They were only offering 10 or 20 gold for an orc head in Cormyr," Alaric nodded, trying to explain Rhain's practical thoughts. "There were a lot more of them... and orcs are considerably less trouble to hunt than elves," Nalen spoke up.

None of this seemed to be bringing the elf any comfort. Charlemagne turned to Alaric, changing the subject, "So to the fort then to see what they're up to?" "Well we've seen what they're up to... but we don't know what their grievance is," Alaric nodded. "They're racist bastards," Tiri growled. "Yes... it could be as simple as race," Alaric nodded to her. Charlemagne stood near the priestess, "This is going to go one of two ways... it could be a diplomatic way... or we'll burn this mother fucker to the ground... with them still in it." Tiri beamed at the young warrior, grateful for his stand for her and her people. "We'll just close the gates and light it on fire," he nodded to her, "Shoot anyone who gets out. What do you say, Urd?" The young ranger nodded her agreement, "Burn it." "See she likes it," Charlemagne nodded to Alaric, "I like it too."

Alaric contemplated the patrol they had seen... the men seemed pretty pissed and bent on killing the elves, "Perhaps we should go to this fort... find a more specific cause to this ire of theirs. Again, Tiri, you're going to have to stay behind." She sighed and nodded. "You should definitely stay aware," Charlemagne warned her, "You're worth money... dead." "Only 100 gold for my head," she nodded, "I have more than that in my pockets." "Perhaps I could bargain up the price," Alix grinned. "Thanks?" Tiri frowned. Charlemagne nodded to Urd, "It's up to you if you feel that you'll be more valuable inside the fort or out. I trust in your judgment." "It's a pity we can't offer them anything," Alaric frowned, "We'll offer them their lives," Charlemagne muttered. Alaric turned to his cousin, speaking firmly, "I'm telling you that we're not going in there for a bloodbath. I have reiterated this several times. There are 100 soldiers in there... Even if we took down half of them... inevitably some of them would get away, running to Hillsfar claiming that that Cormyrian bastard butchered our men... and then we'll have a war on our own front." "I promise that I will not draw first blood," Charlemagne assured him. "That's fair enough," Urd agreed. "If we're attacked that's another story," Alaric agreed, "But don't provoke an attack either." "I wont draw first blood," Charlemagne repeated himself.

Urd looked from one to the other, "Do you two always argue like this before going into battle?" "They argue like that all of the time," Tiri answered. "Okay then, carry on," she nodded, "I wouldn't want to interfere with the kismet." "The Rallyhorns have always felt a bit inferior to the Goldswords," Alaric turned to her. "Why is that?" the beautiful ranger asked. "Because we're better," Alaric answered. Tiri leaned closer to Urd, whispering, "Because they're uppity." "You're Cormyrian. You know this," Alaric encouraged Urd. "Yes... I get it," Urd nodded. "But mainly it's just playful banter," the young sorcerer assured her before turning back to his warrior cousin, "Prepare yourself, Cousin, because I'll tell you now... There are probably going to be some derogatory things said about the elves while we're in there." "So be calm," Alix nodded to Charlemagne, moving to stand next to his sorcerous cousin.

"Would you feel better if Charlemagne stayed outside with me?" Tiri asked. "It'll be alright," Urd nodded to Charlemagne, "It's not like you've been an elven protector for long... You're kind of new to the whole elven thing." "Yes, I know... but when I get ahold of something I really embrace it," his brown eyes met hers. "Really?" she looked him over to find him sincere. "Absolutely," he nodded to her. She seemed to look at him with admiration in a whole new light, her eyes soft and big as the moon, "He should stay out here." "He probably should, but I'm taking him with me," Alaric replied.

Alix helped Tiri with a disguise, making her look like a young boy squire, hiding her long blue hair in braids under her hood. "You could be my squire," Alaric nodded, looking her over. Tiri frowned at him, "Mages don't have squires." "Those are called boyfriends," Charlemagne nudged her and the two of them laughed. "Alright, alright, Charlemagne, she'll be your squire," Alaric nodded, "What's your squire name just in case?" "Let's call him Merlin... Merlin the squire," Charlemagne nodded. Tiri laughed.

The companions rode for a day, moving close to the fort. 200 - 300 yards from the woods edge stood a fort with palisades. "Now will be your time to shine, Cousin," Charlemagne nodded, "You could save all of these men from their fate." "With diplomacy," Alaric nodded, "Because we're not going into a bloodbath. You promised." "Til they draw first blood," Charlemagne nodded.

The woods had been cleared about 300 yards all the way around the fort. "Those bastards killed the trees," the nobleman warrior shook his head, "You can almost hear them cry." Tiri's eyes narrowed, and she laid a soft hand along the bark of a tree, "They'll pay for it." "Stay with her. Keep her safe. Kill anyone who looks suspicious," Charlemagne directed Karlissa to stay outside and protect Tiri. Karlissa nodded, "Do I have to wait that long?" Her temper ran hotter than even her fellow Rallyhorn cousin. "There are many of them," Charlemagne nodded. "No killing. Do we need to write that down?" Alaric looked directly at both of his Rallyhorn cousins, and then nodded to Karlissa, "If we need your help. We'll send up a signal." Karlissa put her hand on her sword, "What's the priority? Kill them? Or keep her alive?" She gestured at Tiri. "Save her," Charlemagne nodded, "If it comes to that, we'll get the rest later. We'll draw them all into the woods one by one if needs be." Urd pulled her bow from her shoulder, "I'll plan the escape." She disappeared into the woods. "After you, Cousin," Charlemagne nodded to Alaric, "I hope you saved up your spell mana for the day." "Why would I need... We are JUST negotiating," Alaric assured him yet once again. Tiri put her hand on Charlemagne, creating a sacred bond between their gold bracelets so that she could heal him from a distance if necessary.

Alaric, Charlemagne, Alix, Nalen, and Rhain rode their horses up to the fort. Charlemagne scanned everything, taking note of faces, numbers, and locations. There were two guards in each of the two towers, three on the front line, and two more on the outside of the gate. There were another dozen guards on patrol... two groups of six walking around the fort in rotation, so they were always on directly opposite walls. "Good morning, gentlemen," Charlemagne greeted the gate guards, "We were told we could stop here and water our horses. Do you mind if we come in?" Alaric had the banner of the Phoenix open and flying, "We're a mercenary company. Ran into one of your good captains. He said that you would give us shelter and we could resupply here. And you were taking bounties." "Aye," the guard greeted them, "All mercenaries are welcome. Come on in. Captain Albright will see any of you." "Excellent," Alaric nodded. The five of them rode into the fort and a young stable boy came to collect their horses for them.

The group walked through the camp, seeing a few elven heads mounted on pikes... beneath them were several barrels that they could only assume contained more heads. "Steady, Charlemagne," Alaric put a hand on his cousin's back, feeling the muscles tense that begged to draw his sword. A few guards rounded the corner sporting colorful braids of elven hair as trophies on their uniform. Sweat started to run down the muscular nobleman warrior as he barely contained himself. Alaric and Alix quickly escorted their cousin in the other direction to a quiet side room where he could gather his composure. "Hey! Welcome! Welcome!" one of the guards greeted them as they entered a small building, "Another mercenary company. We're glad to have you." "It's good to see a bit of civilization amidst that god awful forest," Alaric returned his warm greeting. "Ah yes," the soldier nodded. "Those filthy filthy animals that live out there..." Charlemagne chimed in with less enthusiasm. Alix picked it right up, nodding, "Those filthy stupid elves have no idea what they're doing with this land." "We'll show them what they're going to do on this land," the soldier replied a little darkly. "We've come to speak to your commander after we get cleaned up a bit, of course. It's a bit dusty out on the road," Alaric explained. "Certainly," the soldier called for a stable boy who brought them a big bowl of water that they washed their hands and faces in. "The captain will be happy to see you. You are not the first mercenary group to sign on," the guard nodded to them. "I bet we're from the most afar though," Alaric nodded, "All the way from Cormyr. "Cormyr? How did you hear about this?" he asked, surprised. "We hadn't heard of it actually. We were seeking treasure in the forest... elven artifacts left over from times past," the nobleman sorcerer answered, "We ran into one of your good captains who told us something about a war with the elves. We hadn't heard about such tension or that there was profit to be made." "Less of a war, and more of an extermination really. The insects have invaded our homes," the red-plumed soldier replied. "Ah, I understand," Alaric nodded, "You don't go to war with rats. You just exterminate them." "I'm glad to hear that you're like minded folks. Some people don't take too well to the slaying of the fae folk," he replied, "But they had their chance in this world... they chose to flee the land. The have no reason to come back." "I thought that you had been coexisting for some years now... why now? Was there some action they took against you?" Alaric asked, "Or is now just the time to strike?" "Now is the time to strike," the soldier nodded, "They have not yet fully rebuilt their citadel. Their mythal does not exist. They are vulnerable. And they are led by... a woman." "So the captain said that you were offering 100 gold a head?" Alaric asked, "Anything else special? Say such as elven nobles? They have nobility, right?" "We don't fully understand their hierarchy, but certainly any of the funny haired ones... we pay extra for those," he stroked a silky colorful braid of green hair that decorated his sleeve. "Oh I heard that they have blue and purple," Alaric nodded. "The captain would probably pay pretty handsomely for purple. We haven't seen purple yet," he nodded, "But blue and green ones... we pay 125." "Only heads then? You don't want any alive?" the young sorcerer asked. "Nope. We're not looking to build houses with them... we're looking to get rid of them," he replied. "What's in the barrels?" Alix asked, thumbing in the direction of the spiked heads. The guard grinned, "Open one up and find out son." As suspected, the barrels were full of elven heads... some had been scalped for their hair.  Charlemagne remained quiet, eyeing the area and continuing to take mental notes. These people were all going to die. The soldier's eyes settled on the brown haired warrior, "Look at the arms on that lad. Holy smokes! I bet you could cut two of them in half with one swing." "I have," the young muscular warrior shifted his eyes toward the soldier. "Oh yeah... you get tired of this outfit here... We could offer you a real living," the guard nodded his red plumed helm. "I'll keep that in mind, sir. I appreciate the offer," Charlemagne managed a calm to his voice. The soldier knocked on the door to the captain's chambers, "Captain! If you have the time, there is another mercenary company here." "Of course, send them in," a voice trailed from within the room. Alaric led them into the room. Charlemagne stepped in last, more cautiously on alert. A large, thickly muscled man sat at a large desk among a couple of lieutenants and higher ranked officers, "Come on in! Who are you with?" "We're the Company of the Phoenix," Alaric announced them, nodding in greeting. "Oh, haven't heard of you," Captain Albright nodded. "Well Cormyr is a bit far to the south," the sorcerer replied. "Cormyr, huh? How many in your number?" the captain asked. Alaric nodded, "There are six of us... though sometimes we pick up a few others... this is our core group." "No healer among you, huh?" the captain looked over the group of five. "They are a rare and valuable commodity," Alaric answered. "And dying like flies! I know!" the captain nodded agreeably. Alaric nodded, "Well wise foes tend to target the healers first." "Certainly, that's what I would do," the captain nodded, then laughed with an aristocratic chuckle, "Excuse me, that's what I do do." Alaric laughed along with him, and continued on, "We were just speaking to your captain out in the field. We were doing some artifact hunting and he told us of your extermination." "Our bounty program," Albright nodded proudly. "Yes, and since we had heard that the woods were ripe with vermin..." Alaric began. "Oh you certainly are kind," the captain interrupted. "But we aren't exactly supplied for an extended trip into the forest... so we came here for rations and water before we go hunting," Alaric continued. "Alright, tell you what," the captain nodded, gesturing to a man near him, "Give the man a writ. You can take it to the quartermaster for supplies. We'll spot you 300 gold on your first three heads toward your supplies." "What a generous man you are," Alaric nodded. "You all look like you can hold your own, so I'm expecting good things from you," Albright explained. "What areas of the forest have proven to be the best hunting so far?" the sorcerer asked. "Well to the south is pretty heavily patroled and the damn pointy ears have learned to stay away from the area," the captain answered, "So we've been having to go a little deeper south and west. No one has ventured much to the east yet on the account that they keep running into all manner of dark things." "East... over Elventree?" Alaric asked, "What do you mean dark things?" "There's still some shadowy shit out there in those woods," the captain answered. "Are you sure it's not just elven magic?" the golden haired sorcerer asked. "I'll tell you what... you go out there and find some elf who's doing that shit? I'll give you 1000 gold," the captain nodded, "I keep getting told it's ...'demons' and fae creatures. If you find out it's an elf... bring me back it's ears and I'll make it worth your while, son." "That's a damn fine offer," Alaric asked. "Do you kill children elves?" Alix asked. "You bet. You got some?" Albright asked. "No, just something to ask," the young slayer answered. "Got a problem killing children? It takes a hardened soul to do it, I know," the captain nodded. "When you're exterminating... you have to kill the baby rats too," Alaric agreed. "Otherwise they'll just run off and start all over," Albright nodded, "Now mind you, there a little more rare... the elven folk don't reproduce real fast. Which is a good thing for us. But if you catch them and you kill them... for you, I'll pay double." "Hmmm," Alix nodded thoughtfully. "You find me a purple haired elven baby, and kill it. I'll make you a lieutenant," the captain nodded. "Now, now... don't try to steal from my company," Alaric shook his head. "Well you know, I don't get a lot of folks from Cormyr up here," Albright countered, "but I didn't mean to intrude. I understand. It takes time to put together a great company."  Charlemagne remained quiet, but thought to himself... Yes, it takes time to build a good company... and I'll be back... with numbers. Alaric looked around the camp as they headed back out of the building, detecting magic and looking for any sign of magic or mind control. The people here seemed clear visioned enough, but several seemed to give verbatim phrases and answers to certain questions. When anyone would say the phrase, "Good day." They would all respond with the same phrase, "It's a good day for killing elves." He also noticed that all of the officers sigils had some form of enchantment... with perhaps some suggestive magic.

The group headed into the supply area, handing the man the writ from the captain. "Excellent, excellent! How many of you and how many days?" the supplier asked. "There's a half dozen of us, and let's say about a week," the sorcerer answered. The Hillsfar man nodded, getting out salted meats and various boxes of supplies, "Do you all need fresh bedrolls?" "We just need some chow for the horses and maybe some clean blankets," Alaric answered. The supplier got them high quality horse feed and trail rations.

"I bet elf skin blankets would be the softest," the sorcerer nodded. "That's nasty," the hillsfar man wrinkled his nose, "I wouldn't put my skin that close to some elven flesh blankets... that's just nasty." "They'd go with my elven skull cup," Charlemagne offered. "Baby skull cup," the supplier nodded to the warrior, "Now that I'd buy off of you. No really." "These are hard to come by," Charlemagne put a protective hand on his pack, "But maybe I'll bring you back one when I come back." "That'd be excellent," the supplier opened his cabinet to display the littlest of elven skulls fashioned into mugs, "It'd match my set." Alaric's eyes went a little wide, "Well... thank you for your time." The sorcerer quickly guided his cousin out.

They sat together, eating lunch, and Alaric explained the enchantment on the badges of the officers and how the people were all saying the same phrases to his companions, "There could definitely be something controlling them." "How do you propose we solve such an issue, Cousin?" Charlemagne asked, "Wait til they go to sleep and steal all of the medals from their uniform?" "Well they probably do take off their uniforms at night," Alaric nodded, "But I don't know that removing them would necessarily fix everything... it's likely something built up over time. Even if we were to remove them all... The more immediate issue is we have to find out who's doing it... otherwise they'd just make them new badges and perhaps even do it to more people. But for now, we should probably return to our companions."

They continued to take in a count of the numbers and the inner-workings of the fort as they walked around, looking for anything that didn't quite fit in. Charlemagne looked up, watching the walls. The ring of the blacksmith came from the distance and the smell of dirt and leather hung in the air. As he walked, the hate for these people continued to grow. Taking everything in from his full peripheral vision, he noticed someone walking out of a doorway... and there just beyond the doorway, he thought he caught a glimpse of a masked robed figure... dark and shadowy with a blue fire coming off of his hands. He turned to his companions, describing what he saw. Alix gasped, "That sounds like one of the things I seen in that black castle... deep in that chasm out in the desert." "Why would they be after the elves?" Charlemagne questioned. Alaric pondered for a moment, "I don't know. They were looking for the keys... maybe they tracked the dwarf back to these lands and the elves are in their way to find him." As Alaric walked, he glanced up seeing the few elven heads mounted to a wall... He could barely get past the smell of rotting flesh, but he noticed what looked to be a dwarven skull mounted on the captain's door. His eyes went wide, "We don't know that that's him. There are more than one dwarf in the world."

They returned to Karlissa, Tiri, and Urd, filling them in on the horrors they seen within. Rage and disgust hung on the priestess as they told the story. "I vote we return to the elven city and fill out our numbers," Charlemagne spoke with a serious tone, "Come back and kill them all." "I don't know that I would want to live to wake and realize all of the horrors they have committed while mind controlled... and certainly not everyone there was enchanted... but that shadow guy at least needs to die," Alaric stated, "We need to make sure we get him. Otherwise he'll do the same thing with more of them."

Alaric discussed a possibly of going to Hillsfar to speak to the leaders there. It wasn't likely that they knew anything that was going on with the fort... and it wasn't going to be good if they came down to find the fort burned to the ground... They agreed to travel to Myth Drannor to speak with the queen.