An early winter chill has gripped the forest. Dust from a dead Vorghol settles in a fine haze over the crowd standing astride a dark forest pathway. On one side are three spitting-mad Vulkah warriors, bloodied axes out, ready for trouble. Nearby, against a fallen tree, lies Llurgan, the injured farmer, wounded but recovering, and next to him is Preuse, who lies unconscious from tumbling against a rock.
Thragga has an arrow nocked, but doesn't point the bow at anyone. He's not sure who to kill now.
The Vulkah shift their weight from foot to foot, and mutter to themselves in consonantal Vulkon.
More than a dozen outlaws, led by a hooded woman and a burly blond man in chain armor confront you. After touching his cheek and calling him "Raen," the woman steps back from Kane and turns to the others.
Kane stands quiet for once, speechless.
Khom-Bei steps forward to the angry Vulkah, "You can run now. If you flee to the west, you may escape with your lives. If you return to the Dark Ones, they will likely kill you as traitors before you can tell your tale." He pauses a second, "You know I speak the truth. Choose quickly or you may die where you stand, mercenaries."
Zamab, the strongest of them, sneers back. "We not traitors! You are traitors!"
Khom-Bei turns his back on them and walks away, "Tell it to the blood-drinkers. They might let you speak, before they rip out your throats."
Zand says, offended and angry, "Hey! Why you do this to us?"
Khom-Bei spins around, "Do what to you? We give you a chance to live and you stand here asking questions?"
Zand says, "You big talk, Northerling. Make it worth our time..." He holds out his hand, then rubs his palm. "We mergentories, gotta eat!"
The outlaws watch you all, weapons ready. There are eight swordsmen and six archers, plus the two leaders.
Khom-Bei speaks softly to Thragga, "One arrow, nothing killing", and then nods sharply.
Thragga sinks an arrow into the ground before Zand's feet. The Vulkah steps back hurriedly. Thragga nocks another one and draws back.
Kane lashes into the Vulkah, "Traitors? Traitors you call us? What do you people care about what the Vorghol do to this land, and the people in it? You are just here for gold, and care nothing for Tol Nedra. If you love the Vorghol so well, why not welcome them into your own homeland?"
Zamab says, "Not our fault! Vorghol is a curse on Reith for offending the Powers! Not Vulkah!"
Kane says, "Then they can drain the blood from your wives and children. Speak not of things you know nothing about!"
The burly blond man, tall, bearded, is the one who staked the Vorghol warrior Ralenis. He steps forward and says, "You heard the Northerling, Vulkah. Be away with you, now, while we let you go free. The odds are five to one, by my count." His sword gleams in the moonlight.
Zand spits on the ground. "Fook you, stupid Nedri! But you see us again, hm, and we not be so nice next time? Hm?" The three begin backing off, warily. They know they wouldn't have a prayer in battle tonight.
Thragga sights down his arrow, right between Zand's eyes this time.
Kane reaches out and lowers Thragga's bow. "Peace, friend, peace. We have more important work to do."
With a sharp growl, the Vulkah turn and storm off back the way you all came.
The woman steps forward. "Work?" she asks.
Khom-Bei turns to Kane and the woman, "We need to get out of here quickly. They may bring back more than enough to even the odds."
Kane says, "We must move your people, the Vorghol are out in force and looking for you and your people."
The blond man shrugs. "Let them come..."
Kane says, "Khom-Bei is right. Let's move and we can talk on the way."
Elianel shakes her head. "No, Raen knows what he's talking about...we should take these them back to camp."
Thragga shoulders his bow. He looks towards Llurgan and Preuse and reaches for his dagger.
Khom-Bei says, "Thragga, no. Bring them. The old man is in my care and the other may provide useful information.""
Kane looks the blond man in the eyes and says, "I admire your spirit, friend, but first things first. If I am correct, not all of your company is as fit and ready as yourself."
The warrior nods. He's slightly younger than Kane, and probably less experienced. "You know of us, then. Very well. I am Gareth. And Elianel you already know."
Khom-Bei strides over to the two prisoners and whistles for his pony.
Kane holds out his hand, "I am Kane, well met friend."
Gareth grips Kane's forearm in greeting.
Thragga plucks his dagger from his belt and looms over the injured Reith.
Khom-Bei says, "Thragga, no!"
Llurgan looks up at the Urag defiantly, ready for his fate.
Thragga pauses, genuinely puzzled.
Kane says, "My friends are Thragga the Urag and Khom-Bei of the North. Both great warriors in the fight against the Vorghol.""
Khom-Bei places his hand on Thragga's wrist, "The information he can provide may save many lives."
Kane turns and says, "Thragga, use your head. The blood would only draw the Vorghol quicker."
Llurgan says, "Y'bastards. Robbin' our town, pretendin' t'be our friends...filthy liars."
Taking a leather strip from his belt pouch, Khom-bei ties the hands of the unconcious Preuse and gags him.
Kane says to Khom-Bei, "Perhaps we should let the good father go on his way. He sounds healthy enough."
Khom-Bei looks into the old mans' eyes sternly, "Your beloved Masters murdered my entire clan, including my wife and daughter. Should I return the favor, or would you like to see the sun tomorrow?"
The old man says nothing in return to Khom-Bei, but looks away.
Gareth tells Khom-Bei, "Bind their eyes as well. They're going with us. Since Elianel vouches for you, you may travel with us without your eyes bound."
Khom-Bei nods and covers Preuse' eyes before tossing him over the ponies back.
Another outlaw moves forward, ties Llurgan's hands and blindfolds him, then tosses him on the pony next to Preuse.
Kane says, "Lets be away from here then.""
Khom-Bei steps up to the ponies head and taps him under the chin, "Come along."
Elianel says, "We've already tarried here too long. Come, this way." She leads the way off northwards, slipping off the main path and down a steep slope overgrown with old trees and low brush.
The outlaws fall into formation, flanking you front and back, taking the spare horses and weapons of the fallen men. In the distance you can see the tall twin oaks you were supposed to rendezvous at, but they're lost to sight as the path curves away. You're headed north now, away from Idris, into the deep woods.
Khom-Bei pauses after a few hundred yards and falls out of line, digging deep into his belt pouch. Cakilgan follows obediently behind Khom-Bei. As the last man passes, Khom-bei takes a pinch of dust and sprinkles it into the air. Even the faint traces left by the passage of the Hunters and the outlaws vanish as if they never existed.
Thragga asks Kane quietly, "You know this woman?"
Kane replies to the Urag, "Yes. I've told you about the Refuge and the time I spent there. That is when we met."
Thragga thinks. "Yes, I recall. I cannot keep track of all your women, Kane."
Kane says, "All? I don't remember ever talking about more than two."
Khom-Bei hurries back to his place in line near Kane and Thragga.
Thragga shrugs. "How many women does he have?" he asks the Northerling quietly.
Khom-Bei shrugs, "Who keeps track?"
As Kane walks beside his two companions, his eyes never leave the woman walking up in front of him. Without moving his gaze, Kane remarks,"Thragga, I think you need a woman. It seems to be all you can talk about lately."
Khom-Bei stifles a laugh.
Thragga is about to reply, looking from one to the other, but shuts his mouth.
A rare smile spreads across Kane's face.
The path is winding and narrow, but the outlaws know the way through the chilly, dark woods. An hour passes, or more, mostly in silence, until you cross a shallow creek and then turn to follow it, upstream. Elianel looks back at Kane a moment, as Gareth helps her through the creek.
Then you make out the outline of an old mill, abandoned perhaps decades ago, overgrown now, and some smaller outbuildings beside it. There's a furious barking and a pair of huge Nedran mastiffs, watchdogs obviously, race forward to greet Gareth and Elianel. Sentries on watch join them, and the outlaws are greeted merrily, like members of a family returning.
Here was once a thriving hamlet, now long-ruined, perhaps abandoned in the Fall or one of the subsequent Crusades. Ruins like it are scattered all over Tol Nedra. All that now stands is an old mill, its waterwheel recently repaired. There are wains parked Dorje-style in the clearing, and tents set up here and there. And people. Many dozens of people. This whole community, here in the deep woods, isolated, secret, and all together.
The outlaws roughly strip the prisoners from Cakilgan's back, and take them off towards a tent on the edge of the encampment.
Elianel asks Kane, "Is it what you remember, Raen?"
Kane says, "Yes, I believe it is. But where is your lord father?"
Elianel says, sadly, "Father died...four summers past. He caught a fever and passed in his sleep. I have led us since then."
Kane says, "I am sorry to hear this. He was a great man. I will always think of him as the father my true father never was."
The big black-and-brown mastiffs trot up to Kane, snifffing at him. Kane puts out his hand to let the powerful-looking dogs take his scent.
The dogs do the same to Thragga. The Urag growls at them. The Vulkah use dogs in war, although not Nedran mastiffs, and he has faced them many times on the battlefield. The mastiffs pant happily, unfazed, and turn to Khom-Bei now.
Kane turns to Thragga and says, "It's a good thing they didn't bite you. I'd hate to see one of these brutes catch rabies."
Khom-Bei steps forward and turns on the magic, looking deep into the animals' eyes, one then the other, a slight smile on his lips. One mastiff slobbers all over Khom-Bei's face, and the other howls happily.
Gareth chuckles, "I think Kagan and Togan like you."
Khom-Bei tells the dogs, "Yes, you are mighty protectors, aren't you? And proud, strong fighters when you need to be."
An old greybeard approaches from the mill. He's limping and hopping on a crutch and you can see that he's missing his right leg. He smiles benignly at the newcomers.
Kane tells Elianel, "I think I see old Colyn approaching-- is it he?" He calls out, "Colyn, is that you? I can't believe you're still going strong, old -timer."
Colyn grins, showing yellow teeth. "Raen? I knew you'd be back, boy."
Kane gives the old man a hug and the hug is returned, warmly.
Khom-Bei stands, wiping dog spittle from his face with a broad smile, "Master Gareth, I have a question of some import that has just come to me, if I may ask it?"
Gareth folds his arms. "First, we have questions to ask of you. Eli has told me a little of Kane here. Tell us more about what brings you out looking for us, this night."
Khom-Bei chuckles softly, "We were traveling east and stopped for supplies in Idris. Kane got us drafted into the Reeve's posse looking for outlaws."
Colyn intones, "There are no accidents in this world, son. All is connected."
Kane turns to Gareth and says, "If Eli has told you what I am, then you should be able to guess what we were about."
Khom-Bei says, "They were offering to pay us, but they weren't really asking if we wanted the job, more like teling us we were helping whether we wanted to or not."
Elianel tells Gareth, "As I thought, we have been too long in this place. Naylah has caught our scent."
Khom-Bei says, "There are worse things in Idris than Naylah."
Kane adds to Khom-Bei's statement, "She has an Inghol, so losing them will not be easy."
Khom-Bei nods in agreement.
Gareth says, "Niko..." he looks away.
Kane says, "How soon till you can ready your people to move, Eli?"
Elianel thinks. "We can be ready in a few hours. Dawn will be here by then, and it's safer to travel by day. The dark ones will need to hide from the sun, so the posse will probably return to town."
Kane says, "Let us know what we can do to help."
Gareth asks, "How many are there, aside from the Inghol and the Reeve?"
Kane says, "Four more blood suckers, and roughly twenty men."
Gareth nods, considering. He gives quiet orders to the sentries to return to their posts. "So what was your question of import?" he asks Khom-Bei.
Khom-Bei says, "About three months ago we rescued a man named Hobb and his three children from Camars. We sent them this way with a Dorje caravan. Did they arrive?"
In answer to Khom-Bei's question, Colyn smiles. It's a good smile, even if his teeth are jagged and yellow.
In a ring of pines, two knights stand as tall as they can, which isn't very tall at all. Although they do have wooden swords, and no armor, and one wears a battered Urag war-helmet with one horn hanging loose. They stalk forward, ready for anything.
Suddenly, a mighty Dragha sweeps down on them from the forest! The Dragha leaps from hiding with a mighty roar. He flaps his arms, and rolls up his face to look more like a Dragha. If he could breathe fire, he would, but he makes fire-breathing noises instead.
The knight in the Urag helmet shrieks in shock and drops his wooden sword. The other yells at the Dragha, "You scared him, Uncle Bran!"
From the edge of the ring of pines, Kane, Khom-Bei, Thragga, Colyn, Gareth, and Elianel watch the two boys at play. A taller adult Reith is with them, making Dragha-like roaring noises and laughing.
Colyn points. "I thought they'd be awake at this hour...they wanted to wait up for your return, Eli." He indicates the two boys.
Kane smiles and says, "It is good to see that even in these dark times, children still enjoy their play."
Elianel says, "I think no Dragha was ever so fierce," she says, indicating the one called Bran, affection in her voice.
The two knights try to rally and batter the taller Reith with their wooden swords, but Bran laughs and evades, making roaring noises all the while.
Khom-Bei turns to Colyn smiling, "I assume the girls are sensibly asleep?"
Colyn chuckles. "Unlike boys, girls are uncommon wise."
Elianel calls to them: "Ronan, Tyrin, Bran...we have visitors."
The boys look up from their knight-play. At the sight of the adults, one rushes for Gareth, arms wide. The other, in his battered Urag helmet, stands where he is, shocked. He pushes his helmet back. It's Tyrin, Hobb's son, who you rescued some months ago. He can't believe his eyes.
Bran just smiles, gently, at the visitors, looking simple and innocent. He has a misshapen head and large, gentle eyes, and a great mat of sandy blond hair.
Khom-Bei calls out to the boy, "Tyrin, have you forgotten us so soon?"
Ronan throws his arms around Gareth, embracing him warmly, and then Elianel in turn. "Mother, Father, you've come back!" Oddly, Ronan doesn't look anything like his parents; he has dark hair and eyes.
Tyrin gapes, "Khom-Bei...Kane...and Thragga?" He rushes forward now, and embraces each of you, beaming.
Khom-Bei ruffles the boy's hair, "You've grown, boy!"
Tyrin is still wearing Thragga's old helmet. He grins. "I knew I'd see you again."
Khom-Bei tugs at Tyrin's sleeve, "How are your sisters and your father?"
Tyrin tells Khom-Bei, "Sleeping..." He yawns at the thought.
Bran skips forward, smiling. He's as tall and old as Kane. "We were playing Dragha-slayers! I was the Dragha. Did I do it good?"
Khom-Bei faces Bran and extends his hand, "A more fearsome Dragha there never was!"
Bran hugs Khom-Bei instead of returning the grasp. He laughs, hoarsely. "I did it good!"
Khom-Bei claps Bran enthusiastically on the shoulders, "Yes! Yes, you did."
Kane is struck by what the boy Ronan has just said. He turns to Elianel and says, "Eli, you and Gareth are wed?"
Gareth asks, "For four years, now, Kane, since before her father passed to the Far Fields."
Ronan is tall for his age, eight summers old, and his look is intense. He studies the newcomer who dares to quiz his mother so insolently.
Kane replies in a subdued voice, "Well, let me offer you my congratulations, Gareth and Elianel." Something about the boy strikes Kane, but in with the current shock of finding out that Elianel is now wed, he doesn't give it much thought at the moment. He turns to Ronan and says, "I beg your pardon, young sir, I am an old friend of your mother's and your late grandfather."
The boy bows. "I am Ronan, sir, and honored to meet you." He pauses. "That's a fine sword you have."
Elianel exchanges a glance with Gareth, then watches Ronan intently.
There is a niggling thought crawling around in the back of Kane's head trying to make its way out. He replies, "Yes, and a very old one. It was given to me by my mentor and great friend when I finished my training with him."
Ronan nods. He is about to speak when Tyrin interrupts, "It flames! It lights up the whole night! It kills even Sathanids!"
Bran chuckles. "Flames? Like Dragha flames?"
Ronan looks towards Kane for confirmation of this incredible claim.
Elianel seems to be holding her breath.
Kane looks at Elianel and Gareth and says, "You have a a fine looking boy here. He turns back to the boys and says, "It is called Light Bringer. And yes, it burns with Dragha flame, as many dark ones have found out."
The boys seem ready to ask for a demonstration, but Gareth tells them, "Dragha-slaying time is over, young Palladians. We need to move at first light. You and Tyrin must get ready. Take Bran with you."
Ronan tells Gareth, "Yes, Father."
Tyrin asks Elianel, "My lady, who will carry the Flame? Can it be me?"
Ronan says, "No, me!"
And Bran says, "The Dragha will carry the Flame!"
Gareth sighs. "There will be time for that later, boys. We have work to do. Wake the camp, make ready to move by sunup." The boys nod, dutifully, and Ronan takes Bran by the hand and leads him off towards the hamlet. "Come along, Uncle," Ronan tells Bran.
Colyn speaks, finally, as you all watch them walk off. "Good lads..." he says. "Ronan's their leader, of course..." he says, glancing towards Kane.
Elianel takes Gareth's hand.
Thragga wrinkles his nose, nodding to himself. The scents are too similar for his guess to be wrong.
Khom-Bei takes advantage of the silence to change the subject, "So, where will you move to?"
Kane turns and looks off into the sky, trying to determine how far off dawn is.
Elianel says, "We though to move south, towards the As River. This winter may be a hard one, and supplies scarce, but we can feed the Refuge on river fish. It has served us well before."
Khom-Bei nods, "How many days do you think it will take, milady?"
Elianel says, "Two weeks ride, if the weather is with us."
Kane suddenly breaks his silence and says, "If you you are heading in that direction, I can offer you a safe place near the river."
Gareth studies Kane. He says, "We don't need shelter."
Kane replies, "As your lady said, it will be a hard winter. There is a place on the Angharan border. You could stay the winter if you like. I don't think I will be there much myself."
In the distance, you can hear Tyrin and Ronan calling to the Refuge, waking them. A bell rings, thrice. The tents and wains are suddenly alive with people...there are more than a hundred souls in the Refuge, Reith and Tobon and even some Gholibin.
Gareth says, "What is this place you speak of?"
Elianel says, "We can talk about that later...there's so much to do until then."
Kane says, "As you wish."
Colyn says, "Perhaps our guests are hungry. The Refuge can turn none away who need aid."
Thragga nods, excitedly.
Khom-Bei smirks, "You may regret your hospitality, milady. Thragga can eat whole Kingdoms out of house and home."
Elianel chuckles.
Gareth says, "Colyn, make sure they eat and rest. We have food enough from our raids on the merchants of Idris. I have work to do. I'll send for you when we need your aid." He offers a bow, and then Elianel does the same, and the two head off towards the hamlet just beyond the ring of pines.
Colyn leans on his crutch, stroking his beard. He knows who Ronan is, of course.
Kane says, "Well, old friend this is certainly a night of surprises. Lead and we shall follow."
Colyn says, "We've ale, and fresh bread from the mill..."
Thragga is fascinated by the talk of food. "Tell me more..." as you all follow the old one-legged man, who is pretty nimble for his disability.
You're seated in the remains of an old hovel, and some of the outlaws have brought food and drink for your pleasure. The camp outside is a little busy with their preparations. The three of you sit at a rough-hewn old table, and Thragga busily avails himself of big helpings of bread and sausage.
Khom-Bei feeds and waters Cakilgan and Kane's charger before sitting to eat himself.
Kane doesn't touch the food but helps himself to the ale.
Thragga asks, "Are you going to eat those sausages, Kane?"
Kane hands Thragga the plate and says, "Here, help yourself."
The Urag seizes the plate and makes short work of Kane's offering.
You take a moment to study the Refuge. They are those who the Vorghol would prey on first. People of all kinds dwell here: the old, and the infirm, and the weak. And from many races. They dress in rag-tag and motley, and carry what armor and weapons they can. They are no army, but they seem more than that. They seem a family.
Many of the faces have changed since Kane last lived among them, for these are wanderers, rovers, like the Dorje they emulate. Who needs to be here, stays as long as they need and then move on.
Colyn pours your mugs full with a pitcher of ale, "You're a shaman, then, Khom-Bei?"
Khom-Bei looks warily at the old man, knowing of some prejudice against shamans in the 'civilized' world, "Yes, I am, sir."
Colyn says, "You have the look. Perhaps we have something in common. I know a little of the other worlds, myself."
Khom-Bei nods to the old man, "It would be a great pleasure to speak with you, sir."
Tyrin sticks his head in the door. He still wears Thragga's helmet, even if it fits him poorly. "Am...I interrupting, my lords?"
Kane says, "Not at all."
Tyrin tells Colyn, "It's time to move the Flame....Lady Elianel asked me to fetch you, Master."
Colyn hitches himself up with some effort on his crutch. "Yes, of course. Perhaps you boys would like to come along."
Kane takes a slug of his ale and says, "Wouldn't miss it for for the world."
Thragga, mouth full, rises. He's still chewing and swallowing. He drains his mug to wash down his meal.
Khom-Bei waits near the door for Colyn to lead the way.
Colyn leads you outside, into the busy camp, and into what looks like it was once a shrine of some kind, the roof recently patched. A blue glow emanates from within.
Inside, Ronan and Tyrin wait reverently, with Bran, and many others. All are silent. Within the old building burns a brazier, and a flame of blue light about as long as a man's forearm. A flickering blue glow suffuses over all of you.
Tyrin says, "Isn't it great?" Colyn shushes him with a look.
Kane goes to one knee and bows his head,.
Thragga does the same as Kane, respectful.
Colyn says to Khom-Bei, "This is a holy flame, Khom-Bei. Legend says King Brannais, the greatest Palladian, lit it himself with divine magics. But another legend says this fire fell from the stars."
Bran says, too loud, "Brannais! That's me!"
Khom-Bei follows Kane and drops to one knee."Even among the Clans we have heard of the EverFlame of the Palladians. I had never hoped to see it myself."
Colyn speaks to all those assembled, "On the last night of Tol Nedra under the old King, Rhianor, the last Palladians took torches from their Citadel burning with this very Flame and sent them to all corners of the world, to keep the heart of old Tol Nedra alive. This fragment is in our care. It has never been extinguished since King Brannais lit it, five hundred years ago. So long as the EverFlame burns, so does the true Tol Nedra live. And now we bear it with us to our new home." He pauses. "We keep the Flame!"
The old priest makes a graceful, reverent gesture, bowing his head, but invokes no Powers. His is the old faith. Then he indicates to Khom-Bei to pick up the brazier, which is no larger than a basket.
Khom-Bei reaches out carefully and lifts the brazier, his eyes never leaving the flame.
Thragga says, "Don't drop it."
The flame in Khom-Bei's arms is a small, fragile thing, as fragile as the hopes of a whole Kingdom.