From his viewpoint, Thonas could not see that Udorus had been standing not far off the trail, watching his reaction to the slaughter. “There they be, go on, take ‘em now and be done with it, and pay me what ye promised.”

 The half-elf patted the dwarf on his shoulder and shook his head, “Not yet, my angry little dwarf friend, not yet.  I’ve waited too long for this for it just to be a quick slaying.”

“But me pay!” raged a red faced Udorus, “You swore ye had a way to get me back in the favor of me clan so that I can return to me home.”

“I am a man of my word,” he reassured him, “continue to lead these two to Salaile, thou hast waited this long, you can wait a few weeks longer.” The sneer on rogue’s face was more the Udorus could handle.

“Yer nothin more then a worthless elf half breed…” but before he could finish his insult, the half-elf’s blade was already at the dwarfs throat.

“You forget thy place Udorus, now get thee gone from my sight or I will kill thee as well as Thonas and his boy. Now go and act your part!”

**********************************

“I hear ye boy, I hear ye, what ye be yellin’ ’bout?” came Udorus’s voice from the trail. Christian and Thonas turned to find him walking up the pass with what appeared to be two dead rabbits over his shoulder, intended for lunch no doubt.

 Before either of them could say a word, Udorus came to a halt at the sight of what had once been his camp.

 “Me wagon! Me Boys! What’d ye do to me things?” he growled as he came towards Christian and Thonas with his war hammer now in hand. 

Thonas drew his sword, “ye can come at me if ye like, but thou are the one that sent the two of us to clear the pass, we had nothin’ to do with the likes of this slaughter” he continued, “thou dost know thyself that the boy can’t hold a sword against one of those rabbits thy hast there, much less a man.”

Udorus stopped where he was, let his hammer drop to his side and sighed, “We best be cleanin’ this up and gatherin’ what we can, before who ever did this decides to come back for the rest o’ us.”

Thonas argued, “shouldst we not head back to Nanholve? Hast thou naught a concern as to who did this to our crew?  We should brandish our weapons and hunt them down!”

“Who is it do ye think the leader of this group?” the dwarf turning an angry eye toward Thonas, “we will continue to Salaile.”

“Aye continue on, then we will die just as these men did, slaughtered by an unknown assailant while the leader of our group is off killing rabbits,” Thonas said with an anger in his tone that caused Christian to take a few steps back, “ I know I shall sleep with one eye open, shouldst I sleep t’all.”

The dwarf stood there, without words, fists clenched and his face beaming red with anger.  Thonas, unable to look at him any longer, turned and walked away from the confrontation.

Christian was uncertain how to take this repartee; he could however see it disturbed Thonas greatly.  Thonas had known the dwarf for some time and was awkwardly surprised that notions of revenge, rage or retribution were not spouting from him. Something was wrong, was the angry little dwarf getting old? Has he lost his spirit to fight, or was there something more? Thonas put his thoughts to the side and pushed himself to tend to the dead as best they could. 

**************************************

It was nearing midnight when they finished burying the bodies and repacking what remained of the goods they were hired to protect.  Fearing the return of monsters, whether human or otherwise, the three continued on foot through the night. They burned torches to light their way on the rocky ascent toward the peek.  By dawn, they found themselves exhausted, physically and mentally.  They had not made good time traveling in the dark and were no more then several miles from the previous days camp. Settling on a small clearing just off the pass, they broke camp for breakfast and hopefully some sleep.  Udorus was more silent then what was usual, and Thonas seemed to be rather restless, regardless of his fatigue. “I shall take the first watch, whilst the two of you get some sleep” he muttered, “I think I will not find any rest this day.”

Christian found himself in much the same state as Thonas, he found it hard to close his eyes without seeing the grim pictures of yesterday’s carnage in his head. 

“Thonas, are ye really as good with that sword as ye say?” Christian asked. 

Thonas turned to look at him with an impish grin on his face and simply replied, “Aye.”

With a rather shy tone, Christian went on, “might ye consider showin’ me how I might wield this one a tad better?” as he waved his broadsword back and forth in front of him.

With his smile widening even more, Thonas again said nothing more then “Aye,” he had been waiting for the right opportunity to teach the boy how to use the sword.

            For a fair part of the morning, Thonas taught Christian as much as one could absorb in one day.  Now mind you, he was far from proficient, but at least he could now hold his weapon properly, execute standard parry and thrust moves, as well as maneuver through some basic footwork.

            “What ‘are ye teachin’ him that fer?” Udorus growled when the clanking of metal on metal awaked him.

            “So he can attempt to defend himself shouldst need be, you grumpy ol’ dwarf, I think he does not wish to end up like our mates.” Thonas bantered back.

            Much to Thonas’ surprise, Udorus snapped into a tone unlike himself, “He ain’t needin’ any trainin’ from the likes o’ ye, he can carry these packs just fine without knowin’ how to be swingin’ that piece o’ scrap metal ye be callin’ a sword. I be payin’ him to carry, not to be fightin’.” 

            Christian took this parley as a sign to sheath his sword, and began focusing on preparing something to eat. Thonas, still somewhat in shock over the comments and actions Udorus had made, sheathed his sword as well, he had always known the dwarf to encourage weapon prowess and the ability to defend oneself.  Something just wasn’t right; while he couldn’t put his finger on it, he knew that no matter what, he will keep a protective eye on Christian, and a suspicious eye on Udorus.

            Thonas and Christian chose not to sleep during the rest of the daylight hours and the three continued toward the peak of the mountain pass.  Finding that they could not keep safe footing from their exhaustion, they chose to camp just after nightfall.  Even though they decided to sleep in shifts, Thonas feigned his rest during Udorus’s watch. His trust had completely diminished in the dwarf and his desire to reach Salaile as quickly as possible increased with every passing moment. 

            The final watch of the night lay with Christian, only then did Thonas allow himself a few hours of sleep.  He knew if something happened to the boy, he would be awakened, just as he had the morning of the ogre attack. 

Once again, Christian’s sleep was not sound.  This time however, it was due to the throbbing in his head from yesterday morning’s exploits. His face was still swollen, but at least today, he could open his eye completely.  Blood still matted parts of his hair and the bruising continued to spread down past his chin. He was not a pretty sight by any means.

            Thonas’ head was pounding as well and he noticed the boy sitting alone, gripping his head in agony.  He shuffled through his pack, withdrew two putrid green vials of liquid, and crossed the camp to Christian.  “Drink this down,” Thonas insisted “and try not to let any of it come back for a second visit.” Thonas opened the second vial and choked the liquid down.  His hesitance was obvious, yet Christian figured if Thonas had wanted him dead, he would have let the ogre handle that. 

            With a quick jerk of his head, he drained the vial much as a drunk empties his shot glass.  Never in his life, had he tasted something so rotten.  Christian had to remain still for nearly five minute to keep from vomiting every bit of it of it back up.  “What is that vile potion thou hast no doubt poisoned me with?” Christian winced. 

“Not poison lad, one of my gifts from the elves,” Thonas assured him “I think thy may have cracked thy skull a bit, it will mend now.”

“Ye can’t fool me old man, I know thy stories aren’t true.” Christian quipped.

Thonas smirked, shook his head and returned to stuffing his equipment in his pack. His thoughts reeled back to Tatiana and the elves of El’leiterra. He would see them soon, and they would finally meet the boy. 

**************************************

“Thonas,” Udorus grumbled as he walked through camp, “take yer broken boy there and scout some o’ the pass, I heard some rocks fallin’ in the night and I’m not to be headin’ any farther up there not knowin’ what’s in me way.”

“Aye, aye cap’n,” Thonas snapped into a mock salute.

Whipping around with a scowl on his face, Udorus replied, “Does it look like I be on a boat? Fer that matter, Have ye e’er seen a dwarf on a boat?”

The camp broke into a muted laughter.  Udorus, irritated by the mirth at his expense, stomped away, nearly tripping over his own beard in the process.

**************************************

“He could have at least let me eat some breakfast,” the boy complained.

             Pulling some dried meat from his own pack and handing it to Christian, Thonas laughed as he said, “mayhap thou shouldst have stirred thyself from that sound sleep two hours ago when the rest of us met the morning lad.”

            Having no retort, Christian grunted and walked on ahead. 

It wasn’t long before the two companions did happen upon a blocked section of the pass.  “This will take hours!” Christian whined in what was becoming his usual tone, “Why didn’t he send more then just the two of us?”

 “Well lad, thou keep complainin’ and we’ll be here even longer!” Thonas shouted back at him as he dropped his pack and began prying at the base of a boulder with a downed branch.   

            The longer they worked, the more concerned Thonas became, “I’m not to be thinking this is a rockslide that happened by the hand of nature, lad.”

            “What say ye?” Christian inquired, “That someone blocked our path intentionally then?”

            “Mayhap” he replied, “How say ye we pick up the pace so as we might get back to camp in time for lunch?”

             Thonas attempted to make his tone unworried, but it did not get past on Christian that in fact, he was concerned.  Had either one of them a bit more experience in tracking, perhaps they would have noticed the footprints all around the area, but they did not, and the prints went unnoticed.

However, from a ledge high up on the pass, the presence of Christian and Thonas did not go unnoticed to rogue half-elf watching them, in fact, he had been expecting, no, anticipating them. With a few hand signals, unrecognizable to most, the rogue dispatched his assembly of hired thugs, mercenaries and thieves. It had been a long time since he remembered having so much profitable fun. “I really must do this more often!” he said quietly to himself as he tumbled to his feet and darted off along the upper mountain pass towards Udorus’s camp.  He stopped before the two were out of sight, shot a glance back at Thonas that would have frozen water, and whispered to himself, “ Soon, you and I will meet again, and I will take from thee, just as thou hast taken from me.”

Just before midday, Christian and Thonas completed their task of clearing the pass enough for the caravan to make it through. The journey back to camp was a quiet one though, as Thonas was silent in his thoughts of the road blockage and Christian daydreaming of being home.

As they closed in on the camp, Thonas proclaimed, “Dost thou smell that lad? They must be cooking us some lunch for all our hard work this day!”

Finally, something appealed to Christian, and he picked up his pace so much that Thonas had to jog just to keep up with him.  However, Christian’s appeal was short lived.  Camp was in sight when Thonas grabbed his shoulder from behind and stopped him in his tracks. 

“What?” Christian tried to shout, but Thonas only silenced him with a raised hand and pulled him off the trail. 

On a second look, Thonas saw that smoke was rising from the camp far more than from a cooking fire. Christian, spotting this himself, began to shake, fear was overcoming his body and without realizing he had done it, he had drawn his sword. Thonas had done the same. Seeing no movement at all, they crept towards the camp, staying a bit off of the established trail.  

The smell went from appealing to appalling the closer they got to camp. It did not take Thonas long to realize they did not smell lunch, but human flesh.  The slaughter had been brief, yet, effective.  None of these hands were anything more then novice swordsmen, and apparently, those that attacked were professionals.  The wounds that were inflicted by swords were precise.  They were exactly where they needed to be for a quick, silent and complete kill.  Two of the hands had arrows protruding from their bodies.  Arrows that looked familiar to Thonas, but her could not at the moment place from where.  One was not so lucky. It would seem at least one of the aggressors’ preferred brute strength over skill. The poor hired hand that had the unfortunate opportunity to meet this aggressor found his body twisted and his arms torn from their sockets.  The horses were gone, yet there was no sign of them being slaughtered. The wagons wheels had been broken and what remained of the wagons, and the last of the crew, were set afire. 

Christian found himself mentally and physically unable to handle the scene laid out in front of him.  His mind closed down and his body opened up, any remnant of dried meat that was left in his stomach was now on the ground.  Thonas however, while obviously sickened by this ghastly scene, went on checking to see if any remain alive so that he might find out what happened.  His concern grew stronger as he realized all were dead, except Udorus.  In fact, Udorus’s body was not to be found anywhere. 

With the words not truly registering in Christian’s head, he heard Thonas talking aloud, “Did they take him with them? Is he bleedin’ to death somewhere?” and he began to yell, “Udorus! UDORUS!!”

***************************

Cold December winds whispered to me and on them I heard his laughter.  White winter snow glistened across the ground, each flake reminding me of the sparkle in his eyes.  Ice sickles dripped, crying as I did for the loss of youth and love.  I was barely more than a girl when I watched them bury him, my heart still in his hands.

“Several years back, I had resigned my position with the Lords Guard and decided to venture out on my own for some time.  I found myself in the forests south of Salaile, near the elfin city of El’leiterra.  I had never been there, but had of course heard tales of it as a child, and I had only seen a couple elves in my entire lifetime.  They tend to keep to themselves you know.  However, this was going to be a different day.  I must have made a wrong turn on one of the trails leading through the woods, or perhaps it was fate, for I found myself standing right in front of the steel and vine gates of El’leiterra.  I felt as though I stood in front of those gates for hours, the intricate designs, graceful arches and ivy winding its way through the entire scene. From outside the gates the city could be barely seen.  There were walls of trees, ivy and vines surrounding the entire city.

Two of the elfin guards emerged from the sides of the gate.  I was right in thinking the gates were magic, because neither of them opened the gate.  Sections of the vines and ivy simply opened enough for each of them to step through.

They greeted me polite enough, but I was still nervous, elves are known for their expertise with bows and I was certain at least four or five were pointed at me at any given time.  I explained that I was simply traveling with no certain course, exploring the inner me if you would. Deciding I was no real harm to them, they invited me to rest within their gates for the night.  While tired of sleeping on the ground, I graciously accepted.  To that point, I had never known the graciousness of the elfin people. They fed me, shared some of their elfin lore and history with me and offered me a sound bed for the night.  While only planning to stay the one night, I became rather intrigued with the society as a whole and asked if I could stay longer. They accepted.

I was introduced to many of their folk, but one in particular stood out above the rest.  Her name was Tatiana.  It was not because I felt attraction to her, though she was beautiful, it was that she had a sad appearance to her. When I found the opportunity to speak with her alone, I ask her why, unlike the others, she seemed so disheartened.  She hesitated for some time, but I finally got her to share her troubles with me. 

Tatiana told me that only five short years ago, her mother Sophia had disappeared.  There had been no sign of her leaving, and no evidence to lead anyone to where she might have gone. Many thought she simply grew weary of the forest life and had chosen to travel, most however thought her dead, killed by one of the creatures of the forest.  But Tatiana knew, deep in her heart, that it was untrue. In her eyes, I could see how she longed to have her mother returned to her in El’leiterra, and if she could not be returned, to at least know the truth of disappearance.

Being that I had no particular destination of my own, I volunteered to look for the missing woman.  Tatiana tried to dissuade me. She told me the searches had been exhausted, there was no chance of finding her mother, and that I should not endanger myself to appease her sadness.  After a great deal of intense conversation, Tatiana had won the debate.  I promised her I would not make it the sole purpose of my travels, but I no less, would keep my eyes and ears open. 

My final day within El’leiterra, I thanked the elves for their courteousness and generosity.  The original one night within their village had turned into more than a week.  I knew as I walked from their gates, I had made friends, and should I ever need a place to rest my head again, their home would be open to me. 

Two years from the time I left their village had past.  I found myself sitting in a pub in Salaile listening to the bantering of drunks and wenches.  One drunk however, was louder and ruder then even I had heard in my lifetime.  He had been harassing one of the wenches, and was getting a bit rough.  I turned to see what was going on when I heard a smack and the bar wench yelling, “Leave me be and go home to that elfin wife ye always be braggin’ about, ye drunken lug”  “She ain’t me wife” the drunk bellowed, “she’s me property, just like ye should be ye worthless whore!”  Suddenly, swirls of memories came rushing back into my head.  The entire conversation I had with Tatiana replayed instantly in my mind. I thought to myself, “Could this elf the drunkard is talking about be Tatiana’s Mother?”

Sidestepping a slap of my own, I grabbed the wench as she rushed by me escaping the scene on the other side of the room. “What dost thou mean elfin wife?” I asked in her ear.  Unsurprisingly, I got an answer I should have expected, “I know nothing I wouldst tell the likes of ye,” she muttered back yanking her arm out of my grasp.  I realized at that point, if I were going to get the answers I needed, my coin purse would be much lighter then when I entered the pub that night. 

After a few coins were transferred from my pocket to the wenches, she informed me that the rowdy patron had for years been bragging how he scored himself an elfin wife, even had a half-breed child with her.  She went on to tell me that, no one had ever seen her, and many assumed it was just the rattling tales of a man that consumed way too much ale in his lifetime. That was enough information for me.  That night, when they finally pushed the well-drunken man from the pub, I followed him. 

He lived just outside of Salaile in a rundown shack on the edge of the forest.  The house, if you could call it that, sat in seclusion.  No neighbors were within shouting distance and this was not an area traveled by anyone.  Except the occasional thief trying to escape punishment. No gardens or animals of any sort marked the barren lot. The house was built of rough-cut logs, no doubt robbed from the surrounding woods. 

There were no windows in the building and there only appeared to be one door leading into the structure. I stayed some distance behind the massive drunk, his size resembling that of one with giant in his ancestry, my plan only consisted of scouting the house and seeing if there was in fact an elf living there.

I gave him enough time to slam through his door, shout some curses at whoever was inside and collapse into a what I hoped was a sound sleep.  I watched the moon creep into the sky for some time, listening for any signs of movement from inside the hovel.  When I had not heard any sound for some time, I crept towards the door, opened it lightly and stepped inside.

Now anyone that knows elves knows they have better hearing and eyesight than the average human.  That would probably explain the bruise I brandished on my forehead when I awoke some minutes after sneaking into the house.  When I came to my senses, I saw that standing over me, with a cooking kettle in hand was an elfin female. 

            “We’ve nothing to steal here, thou mayest as well gather thyself up and leave before I wake the man of the house,” she told me in a bold, yet hushed voice.  It appeared she had no real want to wake the brute.

            My head was still reeling and it took me a moment to gather my thoughts, the only thing that I was able to utter out of my mouth was, “Sophia?” 

            The elf took several steps away from me, a confused and shocked look on her face and she dropped to her knees to address me closer, “How dost thou know that name?” she whispered,” I have not shared that with any soul in over seven years, the man of this house knows not that name.”

            I brought myself to a sitting position, forcing myself not to pass out from the pain coursing through my skull and replied, “Tatiana weeps for thee M’lady.”  

She broke into an almost inaudible sob, and at that point, I realized why it was she had not tried to leave sooner, she was chained to the house. Attached to her ankle was a shackle connected to a chain just long enough for the elf to make it from one side of the house to the other.

 “I’ve come to return thee home, they think thou are dead.” I told her, cursing silently the knot that was forming on my head.

 “How can I return?” She sobbed, “I have been chained here for nearly seven years, I have been forced into child bearing with a man that is not my husband, nor would he be if I had my choice. I know not if I will even be accepted again in El’leiterra.” With that, she fell silent, and a look of fear spread across her delicately featured face.

“Sophia, what is wrong?” I asked her, but she didn’t reply, her eyes just widened and she began to shake. In her eyes, I caught a reflection of something…

I heard the sound of his weapon unsheathing, and luckily, my head was not pounding so much that I couldn’t protect myself. I was able to roll out of the way just shy of a rather large sword slicing my head in two.  To this day, I am still not sure how I didn’t hear him approaching.

“ELF!” the brutes voice thundered, “Who be this man thy hast brought into me house? Thou are MY wife!”

I drew my own sword, and immediately was on the defensive as he came forward at me in raging attack.  His size being almost double of my own, the parries I had to perform caused my arms to start aching almost immediately.  However, his size and drunkenness also made him slow, it did not take long for me to gain the offensive and my thrusts were soon hitting home on his immense body. 

            I could see the blood seeping from several wounds on his torso, but none of them were enough to bring him down quickly.   Blood was starting to find it’s way to the floor, causing slick spots that I tried my hardest not to fall victim to.  The brute drew back his massive sword and made a low swing towards my legs, however, being lighter on my feet then he expected, I was able to leap above his sword.  The momentum of that huge swinging effort however, was too much for his huge body to counteract when it did not connect with my body.  He was falling just as I was preparing my next thrust, which would turn out to be the last of this battle.  My final effort caught him just between the ribs under his right arm.  I felt my sword break through his clothing, and pierce his skin.  Perhaps the wound would not have been a deadly one, but his fall increased the drive of my sword and the tip of my blade penetrated his lung.  He shook the floor as he hit the ground gasping for air, blood pooling on the floor to his side.  It had been a long time since I had seen a man die by my hand. The sight and sound of a man’s dieing gasp will live with you forever, no matter how evil or deserving the man is to die. 

            It took several minutes for me to take in the scene that lie out before me, and when I finally caught by breathe and senses, I realized Sophia was digging through the clothing on the corpse.  Having found what she was looking for, she cried out in relief, in her hand she held a key, the one to her chained freedom.  However, the relief and joy we were both feeling was quickly torn away. Standing in the corner, weeping, was a boy of almost seven years.  He was crying out, “Da!  Da!”  Sophia ran to the child trying to comfort him, but the child pushed away from her and ran to his father’s lifeless body.  “Kahavval!” she cried, but the child would not respond to her, he only clutched his father and wept. 

            I helped her bury the man that had kept her in chains for so long, while there was a noticeable sign of relief within her, there was sadness for her child that was unmistakable.  Kahavval would not look at his mother or me.  They gathered their things and we set out to return them to Sophia’s true home, El’leiterra. 

            Word of our arrival must have reached the elfin village long before it was in sight to us, for Tatiana and many others were at the gates awaiting our arrival.  Far from her fears, Sophia was welcomed back with no question, and I was the first human in hundreds of years to be given freedom within the entire elfin village, a rare honor.  I stayed with the elves for nearly a year.  They were gracious in their repayment to me for returning Sophia to her home; they refined my swordsmanship, taught me to use a bow with exceptional accuracy, and they claimed they bestowed a blessing upon me that would last an elfin lifetime.  I asked for none of these gifts, but they would not allow me to deny them.”

The would-be bard fell silent, his tale having come to an end.  “Fabulous tale Thonas,” applauded one of the sword hands, “’tis always a pleasure to hear one of thy stories.” Everyone around the fire spoke up in agreement, it was obvious none of them believed it true, but they enjoyed it no less.

He nodded his thanks, propped his head on his pack, and settled in for a nights sleep.  The rest of the crew followed suit, heading off to their tents

While there was still blood seeping from Christian’s temple, most of it had dried, leaving his hair matted to the side of his head.  Blue-black bruises were erupting down the side of his face and his eye was nearly swollen shut.  He could still taste the blood in his mouth and the nausea of the head trauma caused him to vomit as soon as he tried to stand up. 

“Easy lad, I don’t need ye to pass out on me again,” said Thonas.

Disorientated, Christian asked, “What happened to me, there was the nymph….and …. I was gathering firewood,” he winced, “and there was pain!”

“Trust me son, I know your pain,” Thonas replied, stopping briefly to rephrase his wording, and quickly added, “you did to take on an ogre lad, not many of your years can make such a claim.”

Gathering himself to his feet Christian managed a laugh, “I’m afraid I didn’t do much of the taking on!” Thonas joined him in the humor of the matter as they retreated toward camp, “What say you of a nymph?” Christian relayed his story of his encounter with Liola as they made their way through the trees. “She even thought me an elf at first,” Christian added to his tale. Thonas laughed with him. So far, for Christian, the nymph was the most pleasant aspect of his journey.

“I don’t think ye should be wandering off by yerself again lad,” Thonas scolded after a bit of silence, “Especially since you think it not important to take yer sword with ye.”

            Thonas had almost completely forgotten about the mystery archer while enjoying the boy’s tale.  Not to mention, rejoicing in the fact that Christian was not too severely injured. He saw no purpose in telling the boy about it right now, besides, what did he really have to tell him. Being so knew to travel, he was certain it would only disturb him.

The half-elf re-strung his bow to his back. How he hated using the weapon of his mothers people, but he was good at it, and that made it bearable enough.  He dropped himself down from his perch in the tree and silently ran to see his handiwork.  Three arrows, patterned within inches, neatly penetrating the ogres heart. “Sorry you smelly old brute, but those two are mine,” the half-elf proclaimed to the dead ogre, “Whilst they will both die, it must be at my hand, not some monster’s.” 

It was time for him to check in with the dwarf.

By the time Christian and Thonas emerged from the woods, the morning sun had completely broken free from the seas edge. They arrived back in camp to find the rest of the crew just awaking, all except Udorus.  “Where be Udorus?” Thonas asked of one of the other sword hands.

“He said he was off to scout the beginnings of the pass this morn,” mumbled one of the hands dragging himself from his sleep. 

“Well then, get up ye rags and get thy packs together,” Thonas announced, “We’ll be headin’ out as soon as he returns.”

While the majority of the crew did not even take note of Christian, several noticed his wounds, and could not help but point and whisper amongst each other and stare. None had the courage to ask what had happened.  Thonas had told them to leave the boy alone, that he was his concern.

“Get some water lad and clean them wounds,” Thonas ordered Christian, “And strap that sword to thy side. Don’t ever let it leave there again.”

The boy nodded his consent and thought to himself how this man was starting to sound more like his father ever day.  Yet, perhaps it was good to have someone look after him. The throbbing in his head had yet to subside and he wished he could crawl into his own bed back in Nanholve.

            Udorus returned nearly a half hour later, announcing that the initial pass was clear. He went on talking about how if any of it were going to be blocked, it would be the very beginning.  Thonas had taken the pass as almost as many times as the dwarf, and had never heard anything of the like but let his ranting go uncontested.

Against Udorus’s wishes, Thonas insisted Christian ride in the wagon instead of walking for the rest of the day due to his injuries.  The dwarf assured Thonas that it would build character to make him walk, but there was no arguing with Thonas, not this day.

The pass into the mountains was a well-traveled road, unlike the road leading from Nanholve to the base of the mountain.  The wind was still calm, and the sun on their backs helped to keep them warm even though the glare caused eyestrain on all of them.  There were very few trees once they got onto the established trailed.  The pass was wide enough for the wagons with spare room on each side.  No doubt it was cleared by dwarves many years ago. The right side of the pass went straight up, not leveling off for forty or fifty feet and the left varied from sheer drop offs to fairly level, yet rocky platforms jutting off over the side of the mountain. From the pass, you could get a clear view of Nanholve and the sea it nestled up against. 

Having no complications, other then Christian’s spat with an ogre that morning, they gained several miles before dark. The sunset earlier for them, being on the east side of the mountain, and shadows grew long on the edges of the trail.  The men were tired and claimed to be seeing things in the depths of those shadows that were not really there. The marched on until they found a suitable camping spot just off the trail.  Most likely it had been used by one of the other companies crossing the same pass some time earlier. 

As they prepared for the night, having tethered the horses and set the tents, the men began sharing tales of past adventures around the fire.  They shared their stories of meeting folk from other lands and fighting monsters, while barely escaping with their lives.  It was not long before each had shared their tales, all but Christian, Udorus and Thonas. Udorus refused to tell a tale, he claimed dwarves were modest and their exploits were kept amongst themselves.  Everyone knew this was not true, dwarves loved to spin tales of their heroic or weaponry deeds, but no one argued the point.  Arguing with a dwarf generally was not advantageous. This being Christians first journey out of Nanholve, he had no tales to tell.  The only one left was Thonas.

“Thonas, weave us a tale!” one of the hired hands begged, “We all know you are the best of us all.  I be thinking thee a bard in sooth and just choose not to tell us!”

“Aye!” chimed in the others heartily, gathered around anxiously awaiting his beginning.

“Well, a bard I am not,” Thonas continued, laughing, “and if you had ever heard me sing, ye would agree.  But, if it is a tale thee wish, then a tale thou shalt have.”

Thonas bolted upright from where he slept with pain searing through his head, and a trickle of blood on his lip.  He took a quick survey of his surroundings,  and realized Christian was gone.  He knew what the pain meant, he had for eighteen years felt many bumps, bruises and cuts that were not directly inflicted upon him, this pain however, almost consumed him, it was different then the others.  Gathering his senses, Thonas quickly retrieved his sword, dagger and bow, and began running in what he hoped was the in the same direction Christian had gone.

As he entered the forest, Thonas could hear the snapping of branches and the sound of something being drug through the brush.  Drawing his sword, and allowing his eyes to adjust to the change of light within the woods, he followed what he was certain was Christian.  It did not take long for Thonas to find the trail. After all, it was lined with saplings snapped in two; brush disheveled and marks of a body being drug. His concern grew even more, and he found his footsteps coming faster and faster, he knew however, he must remain quiet, else share the same fate as Christian.

With his excelled pace, it were only minutes later he could see the boy being drug behind the massive body of a creature easily two times his size. Christian’s head lolled back and forth, blood oozing from his mouth and head.  Unsure that the boy was even alive, Thonas chose his course.  The sun was just starting to break through the treetops and streaks of light were slicing through the dark like daggers causing difficulty in his visibility.  He knew he could not let the boy be taken from him, and he pressed on. 

Sprinting towards the brute, Thonas leapt over Christian’s slack body while in full swing with his sword.  Having miscalculated his advance, his sword missed its original target and caught the underside of the beast’s arm that was grasping the boy’s shirt. While the monster did let go of the boy, it was far from having a mortal wound. With the attack having not been executed precisely as Thonas had planned, he landed off center and found himself on his knee, with what he now sees is an ogre advancing rapidly with his club raised for attack.

Holding back a gag from the smell emanating from the ogre, Thonas had to make a move, and quickly. Being low to the ground already, he thought it best to roll out from under the swing of the massive club being aimed at his head.  The idea was successful, for the most part; the upward momentum of the club caught Thonas in mid roll and furthered his progression landing him into the trunk of a nearby tree.  While the sudden stop was somewhat painful, it did aid him in getting farther away from the fight, giving him time enough to regain his footing and launch another attack. 

Drawing his dagger from his belt, he took a deep breath and threw it at the ogre hoping to get a vital hit.  He heard a thud and the grunt emanate from the beast as the dagger struck its target. Unfortunately, it appeared it was only a minor strike against the ugly humanoid.  Thonas set off in another sprint, hoping to get behind the monster where he might avoid the wrath of the club now being swung back in forth in front of the ogre, uprooting small trees in hopes of connecting with the mans body. He must have been paying more attention to his thoughts of hunger then where his target had actually gone.  “Two eats for me to-day,” grunted the greasy, black skinned beast.

“Not if I have anything to do about it,” replied Thonas as he managed once again to get behind the immense body slicing his sword through the muscles and tendons at the back of the ogre’s knee. 

The beast let out a grunt that Thonas was unsure if it was for surprise or pain, the ogre toppled having lost control of his leg. Being far from dead however, the ogre rolled himself into a sitting position, swinging his club from one side of his body to the other, completing a rather impassable field of protection around him.

Standing at his ready, sword still drawn, Thonas was unsure of how to proceed. He glanced over his shoulder and found that Christian, lying in a heap, was indeed still breathing. He turned back to the ogre, just as he heard the unmistakable twang of a bow being loosed and the thud of the arrow hitting its target.  Twice more the club swung and twice more there were thuds of arrows striking the ogres body.  The ogre looking rather confused, being that Thonas’ bow was still slung on his back and not in his hand, ceased his swing.  It took his brain a moment to realize he was in fact, dead, and his body collapsed to the ground.

Thonas stood frozen for several minutes, surveying his surroundings, hoping to find the one that aided him in this battle, but he found no one. The archer was nowhere within his sight, he called out, “Who goes there? Show yourself!” He only heard the gurgling of blood rising in the throat of the dead ogre, the forest denizens and Christian, fighting his way back to consciousness. 

Morning dawned with the sun shining brightly over the eastern sea. Rays of light glistened off the snowcaps of the mountain creating mini prisms of rainbow colors along the ridge. The air was crisp, and the wind had died down from the previous night. Everything was silent, the rest of the camp had yet to rise. It would seem even the birds of the morning had yet to summon themselves awake enough to grace the day with their song.   Christian, for the first time waking before the others, took on the job of building up the campfire as Udorus had ordered.  He thought perhaps this would be the opportunity to impress the dwarf and the rest of the crew for once.

Stretching as he rose from bed, he realized the smell he had thought was coming from the horses he led, was actually him.  Christian looked toward the east, checking the progress of the rising sun and realize he probably had time to bath and still retrieve the firewood before the others awoke.  Stripping out of his rancid clothing, he grabbed a fresh change of clothes and the discarded ones and worked his way through the small gathering of trees between the camp and the stream running off the mountain. 

The water was so cold, his feet were numb almost instantly.  While this was a blessing for the sores and blisters on his feet, it made it somewhat difficult to wash out his dirty clothes as his hands were trembling uncontrollably.  The dirt, blood and sweat washing off of his body and clothes clouded the stream so much he hoped it didn’t kill any of the fish or other wildlife that encountered it.  He winched at the thought that some traveler following them might fill his waterskin with water from this stream.

Drying off as best he could with a spare tunic, he quickly dressed, trying to maintain what body heat still remained.  He couldn’t remember being so cold.  His fingers worked out the tangles of hair drooping into his eyes and he tied his bangs back with an extra length of leather from the horse packs.  The dip into the stream seemed to invigorate him, adding a spring to his step that had been missing the last couple days. 

Christian headed into the forest opposite the camp in search of firewood. The morning sun had not quite breached the canopy of the trees and he found it darker then he had expected causing him great trouble in finding suitable branches for the fire. Being as naïve as he was, and eager to impress his fellow crew members, he took to ripping live branches from the standing trees. 

He tugged and twisted on his third branch, nearly hanging off of it with his entire weight, when a high-pitched scream of pain, or perhaps terror erupted from the trunk of the tree.  Startled, he let go of the tree and stumbled backward, falling over the branches he had already collected, staring dumbfounded at the shrieking tree.  As he watched, what appeared to be a tiny little girl crawled out of a hole near the base of the tree.  Her skin was the color of the tree bark and her clothing was made from leaves and ivy. Tears streaked down her face and what appeared to be sap oozed from her arm.

She inched her way toward Christian and in a squeaky faint voice, she uttered, “Why are you trying to kill me and my tree?” Her big soft brown eyes, which took up nearly two thirds of her face,  looked sadly upon him. Christian sat there in shock, uncertain how or if he should, reply to this little being. She stood no higher then his knee, and looked so fragile.  Her delicate features were twisted in pain.

“Wha…What are you?” He asked leaning forward, squinting in the dark to get a better look at her, “I have not seen the likes of your kind before.”

She wiped her tears away with her arm, trying hard to stop her crying, “I am a tree nymph you silly elf,” she stated factually.

Climbing to his feet, Christian was taken back, “I am not an elf, I am human.  Have I hurt your eyesight as well?”

“But…I…mayhap I am wrong,” the nymph hesitated, her little eyebrow arched in question, “but I sensed…oh… never mind, of course you are human! No elf would twist my branches as you did.”

“I am very sorry,” Christian whispered, ashamed that he had hurt her, “I did not know.”

“Humph!” came a sound from the little nymph as she stomped her tiny foot in emphasis, “I guess I can forgive you just this once, mind you never hurt my tree or another in this wood.”

“Do you have a name?” he asked bending low once again to see better.  He was rather inquisitive of this newly found creature.

“Aye,” she replied, “I am Liola, of the Oaken Order.”

“Well Met Liola,” he said in a deep bow, “I am Christian, umm … of Nanholve.”

“Greetings to you as well,” Liola said in a little bow of her own, “I fear I cannot speak with thee any longer Christian of Nanholve, I must tend to my tree. I cannot heal myself until my oak is healed.”

“Forgive me for keeping you so long,” the boy told her, his face flushed, still ashamed of what he had done.

“Worry not, I can sense that it was indeed unintentional,” the nymph assured him as she retreated into her tree, “I will consider thee my friend Christian of Nanholve, thou mayest return to see me again, if it please you.” She waved to him from the hole within her tree, “Fare thee well!”

Still in awe of the nymph, Christian returned to his self appointed task of finding firewood.  This time, he would not touch a living tree, or ever again for that matter.  Fumbling through the underbrush, he managed to find a few fallen branches adequate enough to maintain a decent fire, creating enough noise in the process to wake the trees and the nymphs that reside in them. Perhaps that is why he didn’t hear the crunch of heavy footfalls on the underbrush.  They approached quickly behind him. 

            For the third time in no fewer days, Christian found himself reeling onto his face, this time tasting blood in his mouth as he bit through his lip. He began to raise himself off the ground reaching towards the sword on his belt when he felt white-hot pain spidering through his head from a hit to the base of his skull.  Bright lights shot through his eyes as the pain overcame him, and he dropped back onto the ground. Christian heard footsteps crunching through the brush around him just before a kick to temple knocked him out completely. 

            Even had his hand reached his belt, it would have done him no good.  He had left his sword sheathed, tucked neatly under his bedroll.

Here is a short essay I wrote many years ago, before I even started taking writing courses.  So, don’t be too critical..it’s just a funny story based on a real life situation.

Living in the country.  So many desire it, so many enjoy it.  I’m not sure I’m one of them anymore.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve lived in the country all my life.  Yes, I raised animals, I know the difference between a Holstein and a Jersey (those are cows by the way) and of course, I was even in 4-H.  Not to mention I can recite the words to way to many country music songs.  Being that I live in what many commonly refer to as “the sticks”, I have come across several reasons for packing it up and moving, but one in particular will forever stick in my head.  (Not to mention the fact that my loving husband insists on telling it to every person he feels deserves their laugh for the day.)

Being the country-bumpkin that I am, I of course have a dog.  Not some fluffy little cutesy pup that requires a tiny crocheted jacket in the winter, but a big, loud, overactive, German bred, huntin’ dog, a Weimaraner. Who from this point on, I will refer to as “Dog”, so as to protect the innocent. Now, I don’t hunt, but I have Dog should I ever want to. Good logic right?  Well, it would turn out, if you have a big ol’ huntin’ dog, you yourself don’t actually need to go hunting.  Your dog will do it for you.  No gun and ammunition or bow and arrows needed. 

Towards the end of last summer, not too long after dark, my niece and I head on out to the car to retrieve my five year olds hidden birthday presents.  Well, of course Dog had to go with us.  Now, many of us have dogs for protection, or at least for a “something’s wrong sensor”, so, why not take her out with us.  What could it possibly hurt?

So, out the door we go, my niece, the now bouncing with excitement Dog, and me.  I should have known something was going to go wrong.  Dog always gets excited, but not quite this excited.  Oh well, we’re just walking out to the car, right?  Remember, this is in the country, no handy dandy streetlights to light our way, and of course the kids used the flashlight for some puppet show and it’s now lost in the “I don’t know where” land forever.  Anyways, we get no more then 5 steps onto the porch when Dog lets out the hunting dog howl, the howl only a Weimaraner owner can appreciate, and she darts off into the night.  (Mind you, Dog is sitting next to me watching me type right now, I’m certain she is making sure I don’t forget any good details. Those would be of course the ones that make me look stupid and her superior.) 

Thinking nothing of this situation, my niece announces, “You know that dog is going to come running at us in the dark and scare us to death, right?” That brought a laugh to both of us and we continued on. 

Well, it would seem I spoiled my child way too much that birthday, because we both had our hands full of bags, as we head back to the house.   From behind me, I can hear my best friend Dog running through the yard towards us.  “I told you she’d come running….” Is as far as my niece got before the smell hit me.  You know that smell, the one you pass on the roads that lingers with your car for hours.  The smell that you can’t help but breathing in when you go past it.  You see the remnants of the black with the white stripes, you know you shouldn’t smell, but you do.  You know you should plug your nose, but you don’t. 

Now we all know what I’m talking about, my dear, dear Dog had brought me a present of her own.  Sticking out from each side of her mouth was the trademark black and white. Dog was so proud of her catch that she was going to bring it to me.  So, my niece and I did what any normal person would do.  We screamed like little girls and ran like mad.  Here is where we get the big “L” for “Loser” marked on our foreheads.  We didn’t run for the house, we ran back to the car.  I’m not quite sure how that was going to help, but we did it anyways. 

Dog was however okay with this idea.  She loved to ride in cars so she came over to join us.  Up on the side of my car she jumps and presses the biggest skunk I had ever seen up against my window.  Ah, I think I can still taste the smell.  I’m not sure that’s possible, but yes, I can remember tasting it. 

I’ve got it!  I know what to do!  My husband is getting ready for work, we’ll beep the horn and make him come out and shoot it!  (Don’t worry, he’s a police officer, he trained with his gun)  I know what you’re thinking, “Doesn’t the dog still have the skunk in its mouth?  How’s he going to shoot it?” Yeah that was a good idea. (Can you see the big “L” on my forehead?)  It didn’t matter, he didn’t hear the horn and I had to come up with another brilliant idea. 

So, we will recap up to this point.  Here you have two adult women sitting in a car, in the dark, arms full of birthday presents and a very, very proud dog bouncing up and down outside of the car with a huge skunk in her mouth.  Okay, no problem, we’re adults, we can handle this.  Idea! We will simply drive the car through the yard getting it as close to the door as possible and we will sprint inside.  Sounded good to me. 

Now, after driving the car through the yard, pulling up to the porch and gathering all of our bags, we’re ready to go.  At this point, my niece takes note of a very important factor, “where’s the skunk?”  Obviously, Dog realizing I was not pleased with her generous gift, had let it go, and she was waiting patiently to be let back in the house.  All right, where is the skunk? Is it dead?  Did it run off?  Did she swallow it? (If the swallowing it part does not sound realistic, you definitely don’t own a Weimaraner huntin’ dog)  We allowed probably another five minutes to pass, and after seeing nothing move, we were continuing with our plan to flee, I mean sprint, into the house. (I still haven’t figured out why my husband never wondered why it was taking me so long to return from the car.)

Ready? Go!  I don’t believe I have ever run so fast in my life, nor had I ever seen my niece hurdle a dog in heels before, but we made it into the house.  No skunk in sight, just that notorious smell lingering around the now drooling, proud hunter begging at the door to come inside. Of course I couldn’t leave her outside, she might hunt down something else for me, you know, like the neighbors cat. 

Now, it’s late evening.  Birthday presents need to be wrapped, a cake needs to be baked, the house needs to be air freshened and Dog needs a bath. Do you think I have tomato juice? Of course I do not.  So, being that I tested it myself, should you ever find yourself without tomato juice, vinegar and designer shampoo works fairly well.

Are you wondering yet where this monster skunk ran off to in the dark of the night?  Being the country girl that I am, and being married to a city boy by the way, I am the chosen one to go out the next morning and see that it’s gone.  We can’t after all have a skunk running around a birthday party.  So, out the door I go, shovel in hand, husband watching out the window. (Laughing at me I’m sure) 

The smell is still lingering, therefore I’m pretty sure it’s there, dead, somewhere.  By this time, I’m having a hard time understanding why I can’t find it. It was, after all, huge!  After a few minutes of dedicated searching, I finally see little tuffs of black and white fur sticking up above the grass.  Being the country girl that I am I buck up, hold my nose and head on over.  Now we all know how you “gain” ten pounds on camera or in pictures, well, it would seem, so do skunks in the dark.  My ever so huge skunk of terror, the trauma of my nose, the de-freshener of my house, the trophy of my Dog, was nothing more then little, pint sized handful of fur and stink. 

The group stood on the edge of town looking out over the valley that would lead them to the Thunderridge Pass. Each of them inspecting one part of the wagon or another before they treaded off for the journey to Salaile.  Their caravan consisted of two wagons, four horses and a group of eight men.  Udorus, Thonas, Christian and five others.  All of them had traveled together on previous trips, save for the boy. 

The valley was partially covered with a forest of pines and oaks.  It was notorious however for the uneven terrain, even on the established paths.  Being so close to winter, the mountains were already covered in snow.  The sun shining at their backs caused glare off the snow peaks promising to make the first half of their journey uncomfortable on their eyes. Most of the crew donned hooded cloaks to try and protect their eyes from the rays.  Gray hazy clouds hung low over the peaks of the mountains, obscuring them from sight.  They were a tell tale sign that more snow would be falling to impede their journey when they reached the peak.  The group could only pray to the Gods that no avalanches would slow their ascent. 

Shortly after midday, they left Nanholve, and the first afternoon  through the valley was graced with winds blowing in off the sea making traveling bitter cold. The moist, salty air burned Christian’s nostrils.  His feet ached as he wore only thin leather boots made for the smooth stone streets of the city and his hands became sore and started to crack already from the cold wind. He found his waterskin quickly emptied as the dry, stickiness in his mouth became more than he could tolerate.  His mind already reeled as to how he would manage nearly three weeks of this torture.

The road to the pass was well worn and many of the underlying rocks were finding their way to the once smooth surface. Christian was certain that if rock fairies existed, they had spent the previous night turning all the rocks pointy side up to ensure that he, and the horses stepped on each one. This had already caused one of their horses to go lame, forcing extra loads to be handled by the other horses and the crew.  Namely Christian.  Being the greenhorn on the team, he was made to carry the extra loads and tend to every whim of the senior crew members. While Thonas assured him that is was a character building task, he was not pleased with the prospect of doing everyone’s bidding.  He searched his memory and could not remember his father ever treating him in a such an indignant way. How dare this man tell him what was good for his character?

While the scowl he carried on his face spoke much about his mood, Christian himself spoke very little.  He did what he was ordered, never speaking or replying unless necessary.  It was only their first day, and half a day at that and Thonas was already concerned the boy would not last through a week.  He showed no initiative, doing no more then what he was told. It seemed that every hour, one of the crew was barking an order at him. Much of the crew spent their time laughing at him when he did something wrong.  His job had been simply to guide two of the packhorses behind the wagons.  It was not a hard job, but he managed to cause problems no less.  Udorus led the caravan on the front wagon; Thonas followed it as the rear guard.  Christian was unnerved by the feeling that the man’s eyes were constantly burning into his back.

_____________________________________________

Two days hence their travel continued in the same manner.  Christian’s eyes rarely left the ground moving slowing in front of him.  His nose bled frequently from the salty wind he roughly breathed in as he became exhausted from the rising incline.  His regrets mounted with each step as the blisters on his feet swelled and popped. The boys hands were crusty from wiping the blood from his face, compounded by the dust dried onto them from the dirt being kicked up by horses he led.

No one dared come too close to him as he stench radiating from him was nearly unbearable.  Each night they had stopped, the other crew members made a point to bath in the near freezing stream that ran almost parallel to the road.  Christian however, passed out with exhaustion, ignoring the fact that his body was in dire need of bathing.  The mornings were too busy to allow him to escape to the waters edge, since he overslept on each one.

Sighing as he trudged along the road, tripping occasionally on the pointy-side-up rocks, he hoped someday he would understand why his father was so cold to him that morning only three days ago. Three days that seemed like an eternity. The ground beneath his feet blurred as he walked, he could see his small, warm kitchen in front of him.  Adrian was boiling some meat or bean soup over the fireplace.  He could still see the deep brown eyes of this father looking warmly at him, as they had every morning of his life.  The lines on his face showed his advanced years, but Christian had never doubted whether Adrian would be there for him.  The old man was as steady as they come.  His routine was clockwork, everything was done precisely the way it had been done the day before.  Up until the day Christian left home that is.  His father had acted so differently that day.  It was as if he had never really known the man at all.  He missed him badly, and wished he had not left the way he had. 

Christian came back to reality when pain shot through his forehead as he walked into the back of the wagon he had been following.  Laughter and hollers emanated from all around him as the crew had obviously been stopped long enough to disembark from the wagons and horses to see him walk into the stopped caravan.  His daydream of being home had carried him farther then he realized. It was almost completely dark, they were breaking for camp.

The end of this third day found the caravan at the base of the mountain, near the entrance to the pass. The trees were fairly thick here and lined both sides of the trail. Being a well-traveled throughway, there were spots along the route that had been cleared previously for camping. They worked quickly to take advantage of this attribute.

The crew pulled out their bedrolls and most began bunkering down for the night. This would be the last night they could handle the weather without tents.  Once they started up the mountain, the night winds would be unbearable.  Thonas and a couple of the others began building a fire in the center of the camp for warmth.

 “One of ye bums will be gatherin’ some wood in the morn’ to build this fire back up fer breakfast,” Udorus snarled. Several of the crew mumbled their acknowledgment of the dwarf, others just ignored him.

            It would be like all the other nights for Christian, he was certain. He was having a hard time sleeping under the stars. He was cold, uncomfortable and more then slightly unnerved.  This was his first time traveling and every sound made him stir, and more often then not, come completely awake.  For two nights this had been the routine.  Aside from the noises, the crew made him just as uneasy.  Thonas never seemed to let him out of his sight. Udorus only spoke when yelling about something being wrong and the rest of the crew just laughed at or ignored him.

            He sat down on his bedroll, carefully removing his boots.  As he unlaced them, his feet began to throb.  Several blisters burst and oozed, and crusted blood caused one of his boots to stick momentarily to the bottom of his foot.  He let out a small cry as the boot broke free and took a small amount of skin with it allowing for fresh blood to seep from the lesions.  Thonas cringed slightly when the boy cried out, as if he had injured himself in some small way at the same time. He looked over his shoulder at the boy, a small amount of concern showing on his face, but he would not allow Christian or anyone else to see it.  Thonas simply offered him a small frown, shook his head and returned his attention to his own bedroll.

            Christian took the look from Thonas as a sign of disappointment and quickly looked away.  Rubbing his feet as gingerly as he could, he realized that his daydreaming about being home had not been useful at all to this journey. Perhaps, he thought, tomorrow would be another day, one where he would not prove to be useless.  His father had wanted him to find work, and he would not let him down by failing so horribly that he was sent home before the work was completed.  Not to mention if he showed some initiative, maybe they would leave him alone.

            Carefully slipping his feet into his bedroll, he turned from the rest of the crew and fell almost instantly asleep.  His dreams thwarted the night sounds and for the first time since he left home, he slept in peace.

Christian found himself standing idly on the pier uncertain of whom he should approach looking for work. The smell of the salt water and call of the gull’s overhead distracted him from his mission.  While he grew up in Nanholve, the harbor was almost as foreign to him as another country.  His father had done all he could to protect him from the lower class rabble that usually found their way to the waters edge.

“Outta me way boy!” a gruff, angry voice bellowed from behind him. Yet, before he realized the shout was directed at him, Christian was pushed out of the way, tumbling over several crates that were just unloaded off a ship. For the second time today, he found himself face down on the ground.  Looking over his shoulder from his now prone position, he found that his aggressor of all things was a dwarf.  While not being too worldly, he still knew better then to confront a dwarf that was obviously in a sour mood, and decided it best to let the incident pass with no further note. He drew himself to his knees and brushed off the front of his tunic.  The dampness of the boards beneath him guaranteed he would smell like fish the rest of the day.  I firm, scarred hard fell on his shoulder.

“Sorry about that lad, that old dwarf has a bit o’ a problem controlling his temper when he’s in a hurry.”

Christian whirled around as he stood to find a man, perhaps in his late thirties, addressing him with a hardy grin, “Thonas is my name, hast thou one of thy own lad or didst thou leave it in the dirt there?”

Eying the man with a genuine apprehension, “Christian,” he muttered, continuing to  brush the remaining dirt from his tunic and pants, “My name is Christian.” Gaining his courage, “What matter is it to ye?”

Thonas, surprised at the spark in the boy, but no less amused, continued lightheartedly, “Well, I see me boss isn’t the only one with a temper this day, I’ve never seen thee around before”, he lied, “what brings thee here, new in town?”

“Nay,” he replied, attempting to maintain his sternness, yet the fear in his eyes gave away his youth and inexperience, “I’ve lived here the whole of my life, if it matters to ye, my father has decided today would be the day for me to find gainful employment.”

Silently commended Adrian’s good work at getting the boy to the pier, Thonas threw an arm around the boys shoulders, and began leading him toward the west side of the docks, “Well then, today is thy lucky day lad, it just so happens we are in need of one more sword for our caravan to Salaile.”  

Christian started to protest, being unsure this was the crew he wanted to sign on with.  He was even prepared to explain that he had never used a sword, or any weapon for that matter, but Thonas was already pushing him toward the caravan and the dwarf he had the unfortunate opportunity to meet a few minutes earlier. 

“Udorus, ye mean little bastard,” Thonas yelled from across the docks, keeping a tight grip on the boy, “I’ve done found our last man!”

The dwarf let out an audible grunt and turned to see their latest traveling partner.  Looking Christian up and down, he shot a waxy glance back to Thonas, “What do ye be wantin’ him for?”

Thonas just laughed and waved off the dwarf who had returned to his work of loading  the wagons.

“Christian, was it?” Thonas feigned, “go and get yer travelin’ things lad, we head out in an hours time.”

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He had no idea what he would need for the trip, or even how long he would be gone. Christian packed his clothing and gathered up a few days worth of dried meat.   Thinking back to earlier that morning, the confrontation with his father, and the things that were said just a few short hours ago, he inked a note for his father that said nothing more than, “Found Work”.  Leaving the note on the table, he pulled the sword from above the hearth and headed out the door. His father had always told him the weapon would be his upon coming of age and if his father thought him old enough to find work, then he must in fact be of age.  Hesitating for a single moment he wondered if he should find his father and at least say goodbye in person, but, his stubbornness won, and he turned and headed toward the dock.

Christian had never traveled outside of Nanholve, and the thought of going to Salaile excited him, yet scared him at the same time.  His pocket was empty of any coins, he spoke only his common language and he knew magic and various humanoids were prevalent in the larger city.  Christian had only seen slight of hand magic in his home city when someone that claimed to be a wizard would perform small tricks on the street corner for tips.  Aside from the occasional dwarf, such as Udorus, he was not familiar with other beings that might be in Salaile. He had no idea how he would communicate with anyone if they did not speak the same language he did.

While he carried a sword at this side, he had never drawn it in battle. In fact, he had never been allowed to handle it at all.  His father never taught him to hunt as all of their food came from the market place or his father’s store. The only thing he had ever done was fish and he was certain that expertise would not be incredibly useful while traveling over a mountain.  In larger cities, one could have gone to the local weapon master to learn the art of swordsmanship, but one had not been present in Nanholve in almost a decade.

            His worrying lasted long enough that he did not realize he was standing at the pier already, his travel sack slung over his shoulder. Christian felt out of place, and vulnerable.