3. Talgris Caldason

Talgris Caldason


  • OOC: I'm bringing all my stories under one editable roof….sort of. I'm placing my character description and overview in the past tense in case he one day permadies, I won't have to come back and change it all.

    Talgris Caldason

    Talgris son of Calda, was a tall young man from the lands of Thesk. He was about 6'4 in height and weighing a good 250 pounds of muscle. He had long black hair and dark blue eyes that glowed a strange shade of green just around the pupils. His face bared five distinct scars he had aquired in battle. Two above each eyebrow, one on his right cheek, one on his left jawbone and the last on his chin. He rubed them absently when thoughtful.

    His body was also crisscrossed with damaged skin. Mostly from his ten month stay at an orc mine where he was beaten constantly by crushers. Despite how badly his flesh had been marked by a life lived in violence, he displayed them proudly.

    His youth was spent travelling with his father on a merchant caravan until it was attacked by the bandits of the Nar's and everyone, including his father, was slaughtered. He was taken in shortly after by a hermit named Garn who taught him the way of the sword and was his only friend until the Nars bandits killed him as well.

    After having lost numerous friends to both the bandits and the goblins of the Rawlinswood, Talgris had learned that the only thing he knows will never leave him is the blade in his hand.

    Regardless of his pain, Talgris was a bit of a jester and enjoyed his ale and the company of good friends. He liked hearing people laugh and let someone know if they have, in his mind, earned the title of friend.

    It's during battle that Talgris's demeanor changed ever so slightly. The memories of his father, his mother, his fallen friends, all came rushing in, all at once. He was sometimes overwhelmed by their faces, their voices, their smell, and his face became a mask of hatred and bloodlust.

    Pira

    Talgris bound himself to a pixxie called Pira, saving her from being destroyed by the magic binding her to her last master. She became his greatest friend and ally. They were seperated when Talgris was taken prisoner and reunited a year later. After a year long seperation they realized how precious their bond was, how powerful. They vowed to never part again.

    Pira was killed by a Gnoll caster on their search for the "black stone" that Talgris hoped would give him a way to cure the pixie glen from its curse. It was after her death that Talgris' eyes began to glow green. As time went by he began to see her in his dreams and then in his waking hours. He never stopped believing that they were somehow still bound to each other.

    He made it a priority in his life to keep his promise and help the pixies of the Norwick glen.

    When the pixie glen of Norwick was cured from its horrible curse, Talgris' eyes stopped glowing green. He believed Pira had finally found peace in death. It saddened him not to have been part of the mission, but his friend's happiness, wherever she may have been, was more important to him.

    The Alliance

    Talgris joined forces with the Alliance on his twenty fourth year of life in hopes of achieving vengeance against the force of bandits that had caused him so much harm in his past. He cared very little for peace talks or political agreements between the towns and the maruaders. He seeked their blood with great fervor and made it his responsibility within the alliance to make the Northern Nars Pass as safe as possible for travelers.

    SilverOgre

    In his search for a cure to the Norwick glen, Talgris found the elusive "black stone" deep within the cold caves and came across a strange set of leathers that he found fit him perfectly. After a few weeks of wearing them under his armor, the leathers absorbed his full plate armor and transformed it into the dangerous looking set of plate he calls SilverOgre. The DarkCloth had the ability of "summoning" the SilverOgre around Talgris, an ability he found both useful and disturbing.

    BlackOgre

    In a revelation of its unknown power, the DarkCloth absorbed the energy of a few rare items and the SilverOgre became blackened as if scorched by flames. The green flame-like outlines that covered the shoulder pads extended to the pelvis guard as if the armor was expressing its evolution esthetically. Talgris remained astounded by the depths of the mysterious leathers he had obtained at the cost of his dear friend's life.


  • Talgris raised his lantern in the murky gloom of the cave and looked around. Pira was in here somewhere, she wasn't sure where though. He walked carefully around every corner. He knew it was bit pointless. His lantern would more than give away his position, but his survival instinct forced him to be precautious.

    In the darkness he heard the flapping of leathery wings and reflexively ducked low. A small brown bat entered the light's radius and quickly dissapeared back into the unseen. Talgris unsheathed his scimitar and padded as quietly as he could. Again a pointless effort considering the unending clank of the metal plates he wore as protection.

    He rounded a corner in the dark silence and the cave exploded with movement. In an instant a horde of green skinned, leather winged abominations attacked him from all angles. They were not goblins. Not even goblins were this ugly. They howled and swung at him with their little daggers. Most rebounded off his armor but a few nicked his arms as he tried to protect his face from them. Talgris swung out with his scimitar cutting one down and then another, and another. For every one he killed two took its place. He heard as more and more approached. These things were legion. He had to act fast. Dropping the lantern he unstrapped the tower shield and ducked under it. The creatures hammered the sheild repeatedly. The lantern broke on impact sending a pool of flames in every direction. The creatures avoided the flame but did not stop their attack. Some tried to go under the shield only to be cut down by Talgris's sword.

    The sound of beating leather wings became deafening. Their screams echoed in the hollow. To many were coming below the shield. He would not be able to fight them off this way. He quickly withdrew a small oak bottle from his pouch, uncorked it, and swallowed its contents. The concoction worked quickly. His skin began to harden and change. It cracked and split into scale like plates. It became a thick brown, rough substance like the bark of a tree. With a howl of his own, Talgris unhooked Caska, and stood dropping the massive tower shield.

    The pool of fire spread, slowly lighting the cavern. Countless of the winged gremlins attacked all at once. It was a blinding swarm. Talgris stood in the middle of the madness with his blade held tightly in his hands and began to swing. The power behind each circular arch taking what must have been at least four to five of the small creatures at a time. They came in beneath and above his strikes. He kicked out at those below and swung at those above. He moved his sword in a whirling cyclone of blood and severed limbs. They were hurting him. He could feel himself weaken much faster than he should be. His adrenaline had shot up so far and the cuts were so small he could not distinguish how much. It did not matter. There was no time to do anything now but attack.

    Time began to lose consistency. Talgris's body became a solid mixture of pain and numbness. The sound of swarming leather wings and alien curses were like a mantra in his ears. The taste of his own sweat and blood became strangely potent. His eyes stung. The flames of the broken lantern were dying. The creatures were fading back into darkness. So many, so many. The things howled in pleasure. Lights began to flash before his eyes. He couldn't feel his arms anymore. His face locked in a mad grin as he gritt his teeth. Darkness.

    Nine Figments flew towards the entrance of the cave. The gremlins had all flown hungrily at an intruder that had dared step into thier home. They wanted to see what was left of the poor fool. One of the figments flew back, it's light immediately extinguished by the arrow shaft, five times its own height tearing mercilessly through it. The others looked around in shock. Another figment fell victim to an arrow, shieking as its life left it. The remaining seven spread out looking for their attacker.

    Talgris lept from the darkness bringing down his massive sword on the fragile creature. The creature froze in a moment of fear and was crushed by the blow. The others saw the attack. They began to cast. As they did Talgris ran to two of them and swung. The sword smashing through their little bodies before they could finish their incantations. The remaining four launched a volley of magic energy that slammed into him. It was not a powerful attack but in his current state, it nearly doubled him over. With a primal scream he swung his sword, killing two of the figments instantly. The other two drew small knives and attacked. One of them actually cut Talgris's chin, the other cut his cheek. The sting enfuriated him. With little ceremony he dropped his sword, grabbed the figments, one in each hand, and squeezed until he heard bones snap. With a sigh he dropped their lifeless bodies.

    It took almost an hour before he found her. Not much time to most but when you've been beaten to within an inch of your life it can become a bit longer. There was a moment of silence when their eyes finally met. A smile crossed their lips as what now seemed as the inevitable finally occured. Talgris felt his heart race. His friend was alive. Pira smiled back. For a moment, she forgot the months she had spent in the dirty little bird cage. All she could think about was how happy she was. They fed off each other's joy. They felt whole again. It seems this bond had become something too strong to ever break. Something unmeasurably powerful. Something, eternal.

    OOC: Talgris has finally recovered his long lost friend Pira. Through the many trials they have gone through, they are stronger than ever for it. Now they return to the Rom camp. Their futures uncertain.


  • Talgris felt his fever begin to subside. A month had gone by and still no Pira. He had been to the spider forest now a few times. The first time he saw one of those blasted man eaters he almost soiled himself. Huge eight legged monsters with fangs that dripped with venom and eyes that glowed with inhuman hunger.

    The forest was swarming with them. It was almost impossible to walk without running into their sticky webs. When they came, they came in ravenous swarms. The sight had put a gray hair or two on Talgris's scalp. He was determined to find Pira however. The visions were becoming more frequent and defined. He remembered seeing a large stone face spewing out some dark liquid through it's open mouth. He remembered a cave entrance. He had to find this cave.

    After a week in the Rom camp Talgris had decided he really liked the place. The troubles and conflicts of Norwick seemed like a thing of an annoying past. These people seemed carefree and strong. They were loyal to each other. After a quick talk with Dart, Talgris was let into the walled section of the camp and took the oath of the Rom before them. He burned his citizen papers to Norwick as a sign of his loyalty. The Rom no longer looked at him with distrust. He had taken the same oath they all had. To protect each other.

    After four trips to the spider wood, Talgris had become more accustomed to fighting off the mass of legs coming at him from all directions. It still made the hairs on the back of his neck rise everytime though. On the last expedition though he had been bitten. The poison was strong, real strong. He managed to slay the spider that had done it but was forced to run back to camp before the venom claimed him.

    Now he waited. He had mapped out a large portion of the forest. No cave though. He could almost feel Pira sometimes. He knew that if he managed to come within at least a mile of her he would sense her. Their bond provided them with a very unique empathic link. All he needed was to get close. Talgris knew he needed his rest. Glancing at Caska who leaned against the Gypsie tree's inner trunk, his eyelids slowly shut.

    Pira sat in her cage miserably, pulling her knees to her chin. Her glow had softened over time. She was no longer producing as much pixxie dust as before. She felt weaker and weaker every day that went by. She still had hope though. She could feel he was closer. She didn't know why but she knew he was looking for her and he was getting close. How much time had gone by? An eternity? Two? Pira's mind felt like it was on fire. More than once she had decided she had had enough. She would let their spells course through her and let the anger overtake the pain. Everytime though, just before she let go, she would feel him, somewhere inside, calling for her. He was going to find her. He had to. Pira heard the musical tone of the figment's wings as they approached. Pira bit her lip and waited. It was at that very moment, that she felt him.

    "Talgris! Talgris! Oh Talgris, I knew you'd find me! I just knew it!"

    The sound of Pira's voice in his mind welled tears in the big man's eyes. He stood on a rickety bridge over a large crevice in the ground. He stared up at a human head carved right out of the stone face, water pouring out of its mouth, forming a stream below it.

    "Where are you?" He called out to her in him mind.

    In a cave. I'm somewhere in a cave.

    Talgris scanned the area and found the gaping mouth of a cave enterance just north of the statue. With a grin on his lips he drew his scimitar and shield and walked slowly towards it.

    Be careful Talgris. There's a lot of them.

    Talgris nodded to himself. It didn't matter what he found in there. He wasn't leaving until Pira was safe.


  • Talgris! Talgris! Taaalgriiiis!

    Talgris woke sharply. His movements causing a numb pain to course through him. He groaned and looked around. He was in a small tent that smelled faintly of spices and moist earth. He looked down and found his wounds had heen treated and bandaged tightly. He felt weak and disoriented….nothing new. With a groan he crawled out ot the tent and stood.

    "Ye shouldn't be walkin' yet Gaji." he heard someone say as a hand was placed firmly on his shoulder. Talgris looked up and saw a man wearing simple leathers of brown and blue give him a strained smile from beneath his hood.

    Talgris nodded but continued to rise. Reaching his full height he grinned at the man and looked around. Various tents were spread out around random campfires. The smells of a myriad of cooked meals made Talgris's mouth water.

    "Gaji?" Talgris asked after he had gotten his bearings a bit.

    "It's our word for ye outsiders." The man replied in practiced tones.

    Talgris nodded smiling despite the low throbbing. He had made it. "Where are my things?"

    "I have yer things Gaji." The man said pointing near a large pot over a fire. Caska's blood stained blade lay carefully over his armor and equipment.

    "Thank you." Talgris said. "Does yer camp have a healer?"

    "Aye Gaji. I saw ye had money enough to pay fer a bit of magic but didn't know if that was yer choice or not."

    "My name's Talgris...and thank you, again."

    The man nodded and waited while Talgris got dressed. "Yer not the first man to crawl into our camp half dead Gaji." The man said. "The bandits can make quick work out of a man rather quickly."

    Talgris nodded, deciding not to push the issue of his name any further.

    "What brings ye out to our humble camp Gaji?" the man asked.

    "I heard a rumor you had set up camp near a forest infested with spiders large enough to kill a man and drag him away." Talgris said matter of factly.

    "Aye, the rumor be true." The man said. "Ye avoided death in the pass to seek out death in the southern forest?" The man shook his head. I'll never get ye Gaji."

    Talgris flinched as he stood. "Who might be this healer you speak of?"

    The man, still shaking his head, gave Talgris a small grin. "She usually only treats Romni...ye might have to pay a bit extra."

    Talgris sighed deeply. No matter where he went, some things never changed. "Of course." He said at last and gathered his smaller possesions.

    The "Rom" looked at him dismissively as he walked by. They were a tight knit group and filled with mistrust of outsiders. He noticed some of the younger ones near their fires drinking ale deeply in shared companionship. The sight made Talgris grin. He had come here for what might well be a blind suicide mission, but it was something he knew he must do. After having bonded with the little pixxie, she had become a crucial part of him. He felt oddly empty without her. He knew it wasn't only the magic of the bonding ritual either.

    His wounds ached. His mind felt tired. His spirit had been re-enforced during his time in the orc cave. He felt like he had aged a decade in the last year. None of it seemed to matter though. Not without his little friend. Not without Pira.


  • Lightning streaked through the sky over Narfell. A violent spray of water soaked everything in the Nar's Pass. Mud flew in every direction as Talgris's heavy boots crashed down on the saturated earth. Talgris's scream was muffled by a massive thunder clap. The sky glowed with electric light, bouncing off Caska as she was freed from her sheath. Talgris's cowl flew back from his face, his cloak waving madly in the wind behind him as he ran. Caska sang.

    Steel tore leather and cut bone. A scream of agony followed by a wet thud on the soaked ground. The others dove in.

    Eight men, four women, coming from all sides. Talgris's eyes went wide, his mouth split in a grin of mad rage. The first to come within reach was met with a downward strike that split his skull wide open. Caska went deep, right through the man's skull and coming out of his neck. A sharp pain surprised Talgris as the cold steel of a dagger found its way into his side. He felt another plunge into the back of his right leg making him stumble. He turned in time to see one of the men come down with his sword. He moved his body down and caught the blow with the plate on his shoulder. From behind him, the other two women grabbed on to his legs and tried to pull him down. Pain shot up from the wound in his leg.

    Talgris screamed in hatred and swung hard. His sword came in an upward strike cleaving straight through on of the woman's stomach and then through the man's neck. Blood sprayed as lightning flashed in the distance. Talgris held Caska in one hand and brought his meaty fist down hard on the woman holding his right leg. He heard a slight cracking sound as his knuckles struck her crown. She fell limply to one side. Using his free leg he swiftly kicked the other woman off his left leg. He hit her square in the jaw sending her back. The last of the women swung, her dagger cutting him just below the elbow. Tagris's teeth ground together he shot her a hateful glance but knew he could not afford more than that at this point.

    The other five men were on him in an instant. One of them swung, his sword tore through Talgris's steel armor and dug deep in his chest just over his heart. Talgris's eyes went wide as the pain threatened to steal his conciousness. The other four men came in. One stabbed for his stomach, his sword deflected by the armor. The second swung, his sword cutting a line just above his left eye. The wound bled generously, thankfully the blood was being washed away from his eye by the rain. The third grabbed tightly to his sword arm and began trying to pry his hand open. The last grabbed his left arm and tried to pull it behind Talgris's back.

    Talgris's mind raced. His heart pumped with critical speed. His face became a mask of bloodlust. He kicked out striking the man who had stabbed his chest hard in the chest. The man flew back. Talgris pulled his left arm in and headbutted the man holding it. Pain ran through him in a current. The man's nose shattered and he fell back holding his bleeding face. Talgris, well beyond desperate, pulled the short sword out of his own chest and brought it down on the man trying to disarm him. The sword sank easily into the back of his neck, tearing his spine and coming out just below his adam's apple.

    The other two saw their opportunity and swung. Talgris, quickly losing focus, reacted sloppily. He brought the greatsword up in time to meet the first attack. The second however tore into his forearm. The pain making him drop the sword. He turned his head just in time to see the woman lunge out. He shifted his weight painfully into his wounded leg. The woman's blade bounced harmlessly off the shield strapped to his back.

    Talgris could taste his own blood in his mouth. The world had become a mass of nearly indistinguishable blurs. Screaming to keep himself from losing conciousness he swung back at the woman with his left arm placing his elbow into her eye. The woman was rocked by the hit and flew back, dropping her weapon. The world was becoming a tunnel. He was losing peripheral vision. Talgris put all of his weight into it and punched one of the men square in the jaw. The man took a step back but was not seemingly effected. The bandit with the broken nose was already getting to his feet. The one he had kicked off him was retrieving his sword from the other man's neck. Talgris knew he couldn't run with his leg. He could only fight off the darkness for so much longer.

    A grin of battlelust crossed his lips. The face of death became a very real manifestation. This moment, when blood flowed and steel flashed, was the purest thing he had ever known. There was no understanding of past, present, or future. There was no time, there was no doubt. There was simply…the moment...each and every breath was precious. Each and every second vital. Talgris crossed his arms and unsheathed both his scimitar and his trusted axe. His wounded arm screamed as it was pulled back and then jabbed violently forward. The axe flew with graceless power and sunk deep into one of the man's skull, the one going for his sword. The remaining three howled and charged.

    Talgris raised the scimitar with his off hand. Blocking the first blow with his sword, he spun around counterclock wise and ducked low. He felt as the blows from the other two landed heavily on his shield. His knees almost gave as he came back to a standing position. He twirled around bringing the scimitar in a precise cut across both men's throughts. Their gurgling screams filled his ears. He turned towards the last man who stood paralized, blood gushing from his broken nose. Talgris's eyes narrowed and with one quick stroke, relieved the man of his head.

    The rains had finally subsided. The thunder could still be heard in the distance. Men and women came out of their tents and began removing the wet tinder from their massive campfires. A single man limped slowly into the camp. He walked with his head low, seemingly too heavy to raise. He used a bloodstained greatsword as a walking stick as he painfully dragged himself amongst them. Before he even reached the center of the camp the man slowly raised his head, took one look around at the stunned Romni with the one eye not caked with dried blood and collapsed in a heap before them.


  • Pira's sky blue eyes fluttered open weakly. She lay on the cold stone of the familiar cave. The place that had been her home for so long she had lost all sense of time. The rusty cage that served as her home was lightly defined by the constant glowing of her body.

    She tried to rise but her arms shook violently and then gave. Her soft dirt caked cheek hit the cage hard. She felt a bit woozy and decided to let the cold metal of the cage clear her head. After a moment she tried again. With effort and help from the bars she managed to stand. She could hear the musical flapping of wings coming towards her. Would this ever end?

    "You're up at last." The first of two of the Figments that came to visit her spoke. "Do it."

    The second figment began casting without any hesitation. Pira braced herself. A wave of energy slammed into her. She felt her mind begin to cloud and her body tense. They were becoming tired of the very game they had begun. They were going to succeed in their objective or they were going to kill her.

    Pira had never remembered moving that fast. Even when the murderous fire mephit had followed her through a mad dash into the Rawlinswood, had she flown with that speed. Talgris was overwhelmed. The black armored orc had nearly killed him with only one blow of its mighty sword. Pira could swear she had felt the thing hit him. She had to find help quickly. She dashed through the Nar's Pass on her way to Norwick, hoping desperately that someone was out here.

    It was then that she saw it. A single bolt of energy flew at her with amazing speed. Her wings worked furiously. She ducked and dodged but the missle honed in on her with perfect precision. In a shower of light and pain, Pira fell from the sky.

    Before she even understood what was happening around her, Pira woke to the very sensation that would rule her life for the next year to come. A sensation she would never get used to, no matter how many times she felt it. A sensation she well remembered from a past long buried and recently dug out. The sensation of being mentally assaulted. Someone was trying to rewrite her mind, her emotions, her personality. As before she felt her rage peak and her need for retribution heighten. The madness was again trying to creep into her conciousness.

    Only this time something was different. This time she had someplace to go. A safe haven within herself to retreat from the madness. As soon as she felt herself slip, she felt Talgris there with her. Even though she knew he was no where around, their bond, their connection, was so strong, she was able to drink it like water from a well. The intrusion was long and tedious but in the end, she remained concious of herself and in control of her actions.

    She stood up, dazed but still strong. She was in a cage. A small cube of bars and wire that could only be a bird cage. She looked around to see a group of nearly twenty pixxies surrounding her. Their eyes glowed an unnatural red, Her heart raced. So many of her own…but no...something was wrong...something was different. The shape of their heads, the way their fingers ended in little talons, their skin tone.....these were not pixxies.

    "Where am I?" she asked them defiantly. "Why are you holding me here?"

    The moment the first creature spoke, Pira knew they were not of her kind. "You did not fold. How strange."

    Pira looked as menacingly as she could. "Let me out of here!"

    The creature shook its head. "Sorry pixxie, but you're coming with us. Just because you fought us off this time doesn't mean you'll do it again."

    With that the creatures pulled back and spread out a bit away from the cage. It was then that Pira noticed that her cage was not stationary. Something was carrying her. She could see two large leathery green wings flapping on each side of the cage. She looked up through the bars and saw the creature that had her. A hideous green thing. Like a goblin with long horns, sharper teeth and of course wings. It flew slowly through the the branches. The other pixxie like creatures also flew with unusual slowness.

    Pira looked around curiously into the gloom for a while before she noticed why the flying goblin and the others were taking such precautions in their flight. A mass of silky spiderwebs crisscrossed an alarming amount of branches. It was only the light caused by the pixxie creatures themselves that allowed them to see the webs before they actually ran into them. They were still forced to make their way slowly and carefully.

    After a few minutes on of the pixxie like creatures was innevitably caught in one of the webs. The others seemed unconcerned and continued on their flight. Pira looked back with facinated horror as a white spider, a thousand times over the size of any spider she had ever seen made its way down to where its prey struggled. The sight made her tremble. Such a creature could as easily trap and kill a human man.

    Here she was, in a cage, helpless. Her fate depending on the eyesight and quick reflexes of a horned goblin with green leather wings. As they slowly made their way, Pira began to notice just how many of these spiders crawled amongst the trees. It was like flying through a bad dream.


  • Eternally Bound

    OOC: Having spent nearly a year in an orc mine as a slave put a very bad spin on Talgris's life. He has however since then recovered, mended things that had torn and broken. Only one thing is missing to make him whole again. Pira.

    Talgris sat at the Boarshead staring absently into his ale. The noises and aromas coming from every direction eluded him. The taste of his ale eluded him. He was trapped deep in his own thoughts. He had lost so many people he would have gladly called friends. He had seen so much death, so much pain. Throughout it all, he had nothing to lean on. No one that truly understood.

    The surface of the dark liquid rippled. Talgris's eyes went wide when he saw the a long skeletal leg emerge from the ale and grasp the rim of his mug with another following closely after. A small head appreared behind the long pale hairy legs. Ten large and small orbs stared intently. Another two of the spider's legs reached for the edge of the mug. Talgris was frozen. He did not understand what he was seeing. He only knew that it brought him a sence of both fear and elation all at once. The spider was motionless. Talgris heard whispers. Dark, inhuman whispers coming from the depths of a simple ale mug that had now become larger than life. Talgris saw the liquid shift and move. He saw the darkness come to life, taking on the shape of hundreds of hideous, eight legged carnivores as they darted for the edge of the portal his nightly ale had become.

    Talgris lunged the mug across the room and reflexively drew his scimitar. The wooden mug clunked against the wooden floor and it's contents spilled. Ale, of course, nothing but ale.

    "Ye may want to cut back a bit on the ale." He heard someone from the crowd say. "Now put the sword away, ye know the laws."

    Talgris shook his head in frustration and sheathed the blade. With a deep sigh he stormed out of the Boarshead and out into the rainy night. After nearly a year trapped in an orc mine, Talgris had learned to appreciate such things as the open sky and the rains that never ceased. He let the rain hit his face as he had grown accustomed to doing. A constant reminder to appreciate the freedom he had once lost.

    That had not been the first time that had happened. Ever since that night in the pass. Ever since he had fought, if it could even be called that, an orc destroyer. Ever since he had last seen Pira. He had been having strange visions, waking dreams. A dark forest, strange and foreboding. Hordes of spiders that seemed too large to be real, winged goblins with long horns and pixxies with red eyes.

    After a while he figured it was Pira, trying to reach out to him, somehow trying to show him where she was. Sometimes the visions came with something that disturbed him more than the spiders or the dark forest. Sometimes they came with pain. A hot searing pain he knew was Pira's own, somehow transfered to him through the bond they had. Someone was hurting her. He hated the fact that as he shared in her pain, she as well must have shared in his as he was flogged and beaten in the orc mine. It seems this savage interlude in their lives was far from over. He had to find her.

    It had taken weeks but he had finally received a useful tip. A travelling Rom had told him that deadly spiders like those in his visions haunted the forest south of their camp. The Rom had lived with the threat for a long time and had taken measures to try and eliminate them. The Rom had no information on the winged goblins or the red eyed pixxies, but it was a place to start. The only problem was, the Roms had set up camp right in the middle of the Nars Pass. He would need some help finding the place.

    The thought of facing these spiders that had plagued him for so long left a bad taste in his mouth but if he was right, if Pira was still alive, he had to go and look for her.

    Ever since his father had died in the middle of the pass, killed by a raiding party of bandits, Talgris has called Narfell his home. Ever since Garn had died by the hand of the same thieving bastards, Talgris had moved to Norwick. He knew now he would probably not see the town for a long time. He would not return until he knew why he was having these waking dreams.

    With what some may call firm resolve, others, blind desperation, Talgris Caldason left Norwick for the Romni camp.


  • Nothing

    Talgris sat in the shadows of the Fugue. His own form, pale and translucent in within the red shades of the wasteland. He had not forgotten. His memory had not been wiped out as it seemed was the usual effect of this place. He knew where he was. His eyes narrowed as he recalled his last few moments of life. Marcus swinging at the shamans as they came, his body covered in blood and black gunk. Talgris's own torn flesh burning from its many wounds. Then the arrow came. Sharp, shift and precise. His body began to lose feeling. Marcus tried to help him but the man was too flustered, fumbling over himself while fighting back the last of the shamans. It was too desperate a battle. He should have never gone.

    Time meant nothing here. He was never sure how much of it had passed as he sat, looking on as images of people appeared and dissapeared. People came and wandered. All of them at some point would look up into the red sky and their incorporal shapes would glow with the briliant energy and various colors of their being….and vanish.

    Whether they went to the land of their patron gods or back to the material plane was beyond his knowledge. All he knew is that no one would be coming for him. He had chosen to not serve them. He did not believe in their promises. For his arrogance, he would remain here, trapped and alone, for eternity.

    He could not help but smile. This place, it was peaceful. No single energy flowed through here. A mixture of raw powers from the devine messangers seemed to linger in the air, or what posed for air in this place. There was only one constant. The succubus.

    He could feel her everywhere he went. He could sense her, smell her, almost touch her. She was everywhere. She was unavoidable. She plagued him. Telling him of all that he was missing out on. The touch of another person. The sound of their voice. Their passion. Their expectations. She wanted him to return. She wanted to help him get back to where he belonged. Help him retrun to the land of the living. He only had to pay, one, small, price.

    Talgris shook his head but it would not clear. She beckoned to him. Promising him pleasures that he would only find back in the mortal realm. She pleaded with the horrid sensuality that had broken hundreds. Talgris would not go. Not because any particular amount of willpower. Talgris was never wealthy in that aspect. He stayed away simply because he knew he would return eventually, but for now, he needed to know. He needed to find his place in the puzzle of life. So many things were happening as he sat there pondering. The world continued to spin unhindered without him. He was a simple, insignificant part of an inconprehendibly gargantuan system.

    So if this was his fate, if this lifeless wasteland was all that awaited him at the moment of his demise, be it now, or again in nearby or later future, what was his reason for living? He had no god to please. No rules to follow. No path, no direction, no hope for a better life. He would come here and watch others reach their deities with eyes full of love and wonder. Something he would never have.

    Before he returned. Before his friends brought him back from this place, or before he finally fell to the demon's sensual whispers, he would need to decide what path he would lead and why he would walk it.

    There were no answers waiting for him. There was no peace. If he did not make a stand now, he would live his eternity in the torment of nothingness.


  • sniff…....sniff....

    Talgris's eyes fluttered open. It was dark, his head was pounding. Something wet rubbed up against his face. He cringed and pulled back away from it. His vision began to clear and he saw the head of a large, black, jungle cat materialize before him. Talgris froze. The panther sniffed him casually. His muzzle was soaked in blood. His breath reeked of it as well.

    Carefully, Talgris tested to see if his hands and legs were bound. They were not. If he made any sudden moves this cat would have a nice meal tonight. He would have to strike, quickly. Break the things neck......somehow.

    "Terath come!" He heard a sharp voice and the panther slowly pulled away.

    Talgris looked to where the cat walked and noticed a young looking elf, perched up on a rock, calling the panther with an exaggerated stern look on his face and pointing down at the ground nest to the rock. "Come." The elf said firmly. The panther obeyed and sat near the elf. Talgris looked up and saw the elf giving him a crooked smile.

    "Hey there." Talgris said grinning. He looked around and was surprised to see the two crushers that were in his cell, on the ground, not moving. "Did you do that?" Talgris asked pointing at the crushers. The elf's smile widened. He raised a surprisingly finely crafted bow in the air like an icon.

    "Me." He pointed at himself. "Terrath." pointing at the panther. "Kallira." he pointed above his own head. Talgris's gaze followed his hand and saw a brown and black feathered hawk regarding him carefully.

    Hoping it was relatively safe to do so, Talgris slowly began to stand. The elf did not seem displeased. Neither animal made any warning signs. Talgris stood to his full height and scanned the area. The two crushers were dead...very dead. Their throats had been torn out and their faces sliced open, their armor full of arrows. Talgris turned to the group and swallowed hard. The elf was still smiling. Good.

    "Thank you for saving me." Talgris said smiling. He knew where he was. The orcs were taking him into the Rawlinswood. Now why the hell were they doing that? He looked himself over. Besides the scars he had already been given, no new wound seemed apparent. He was his pair of dirty, torn, breeches. His head still ached from the crusher's blows.

    "Welcome." the elf said. "You from town?" he asked pointing back towards the direction of Norwick.

    Talgris nodded noticing the elf's graceful, feline movements. "One of those wild forest elves" he thought to himself. "Primitive....vicious..." He looked at the animals who seemed to guard the elf religiously. "Dangerous." He liked this guy.

    "I'm Talgris." he said grinning, knowing better than to show his teeth. The elf seemed a bit confused. Talgris thougth for a moment and then pointed at himself with his thumb. "Talgris."

    The elf smiled his crooked smile in understanding. He pointed at himself and said "Cavrin." and then proceeded to point back to the two animals giving their names again.

    Talgris smiled at the elf and he did not seem alarmed. "You live out here?"

    The elf nodded vigorously.

    "These woods are infested by goblins." Talgris said, knowing he was stating the obvious but wanting to see the elf's reaction.

    The elf turned and picked something up. Talgris saw him lift the freshly decapitated head of a goblin and wave it in the air. "Goblins." the elf said and threw the head over his shoulder. "Goblins take home. Goblins die."

    Talgris smiled at the gesture. "I can relate to that." Talgris looked back over his shoulder. "Is it alright if I go?"

    The elf nodded again. "Go home. I home." he pointed at the ground.

    "I patrol here from time to time. The goblins are a big problem in Norwick. Maybe I'll see you again?"

    The elf smiled, seemingly pleased by the suggestion. "I find you." he said. "Good at finding."

    Talgris nodded with a grin. "Alright then." He trustfully turned his back on the elf, glancing over at the crusher's bodies and swallowing hard. He looked back to invite the elf back with him into town but he was gone. Talgris shook his head and looked around. Amazing.....

    As Talgris reached the south gates of Norwick, it began to rain heavily. Talgris simply stood there with his face in the rain, happy to be home.

    He hoped Pira was okay.


  • The orc kicked Talgris back into his cell sending him flying. Talgris hit the dirt face first. He heard the click as the guard locked the cage. Slowly rising, he was barely able to stay concious. He sat back against the cold stone of the familiar cell that had been his home for…...how long now? He walked over to his cot and looked at the chalk markings he had made. One line for every day, a square around every thirty lines, ten squares.

    With a deep sigh he turned and lay on his back. His hair had grown long enough to cover his eyes. He ran his hand over the fresh scars on his face. On his chin, on his right cheek and on the left and right side of his forehead. His torso and legs had been crisscrossed with shallow scars from the guard's metal tipped flails. He heard the orcs yelling at the miners in their horrible gutteral language and flinched as he heard the crack of a whip.

    He looked at his hands. They had grown rougher and more callous. His skin had paled from the lack of sunlight. He was pretty badly bruised and was fed a vile gunk and old bread that he could barely stomach half the time. No one was coming for him. Pira's whereabouts had haunted him for days upon his arrival to the mine. Was she okay? Had she found help? Would she be able to find him? After days had turned to weeks and weeks into months, the idea of any rescue had become a hollow dream he sometimes woken up from. No one knew where he was. Hell, he didn't know where he was. After that black armored orc, a destroyer they called him, had knocked him out, he knew only darkness until he was violently awakened here at the mines.

    "Ten months." He whispered to himself. "Almost a damn year with no sunlight, no grass, no trees, no rain, no Pira, no friends, no decent bloody food, nothing. He knew he had no time to lay there and feel sorry for himself. The orcs gave very little time to rest and if he expected to survive his stay here he would need to get as much rest as he possibly could. He lay on his side and tried to calm himself and clear his mind. All he could of was Norwick. That damn cursed town with its damn laws and its unending rain. How he missed it.

    A rattle from the bars woke him just as he began to fall asleep. He looked up to find a figure in a black cloak and hood flanked by two orc crushers. One was enough to beat Talgris all the way home and back. This was not good. Every now and then this....whatever it was would appear and take one of the miners with him. The miner was never seen again. Rumor had it that he was a priest of some dark god looking for sacrifices to make at his altar. Talgris tensed. The orcs opened the cell and walked in unarmed. They knew it wasn't neccesary. The human was not getting past them.

    Talgris knew he was outmatched but decided to not go easily either way. Summononing all the fury within him he screamed and charged the first crusher intent on putting the beast on his back. The crusher was not impressed. With a swift movement he backhanded Talgris into the wall. His world swam, he spat a bloody tooth out. The crusher came and kicked him hard on the side of the head.

    Right before the blow landed, Talgris remembered having a single thought. "This is getting damn repetitive."

    With that, Talgris fell back into the familiar embrace of being beaten unconcious. He almost hoped he would not wake up. He didn't really feel he wanted to know what fate lay in store for him in the hands of this black cloaked.....thing.


  • Talgris grinned as the battlelust ran through his veins with familiar fire. His heart sped up almost immediately. Still holding Caska's hilt he pulled the bolt out of his chest and threw it behind him. It was all a matter of timing. Talgris crouched low, sending his left arm behind and quickly pulling his shield free. The orcs all pulled their triggers. One bolt bounced off Talgris's chest plate another sunk deep into his right thigh. The shield came around acting as a barrier for the last two bolts. Talgris bit back the pain and charged slamming his shield into the orc on the farthest to the left and drawing his battle axe at the same time.

    Two of the rumblers were on him in an instant. He used the massive shield to block their incoming attacks. The impacts making his arm shudder. He swung down hard hitting one between the neck and shoulder. As the orc went limp by the fatal hit, Talgris pulled his arm back and used the second edge to cleave into one of the sniper's skull just above the right eye. The other two began reloading their crossbows. The other two rumblers came around and surrounded him. Talgris put his shield behind to stop their clubs and used his axe to deflect the third rumbler. In the heat of battle he heard chanting in a thick gutteral voice. He recognized the tempo from hearing Bruno cast his healing spells, the bastard in black armor was a caster.

    Drowned by the bloodlust and instinct for survival, Talgris screamed and swung his axe into the first rumbler's face, turned his feet and let the momentum carry the axe around and under the armpit of the second, severing his artery. As he spun he jammed his shield out in front of him just in time to catch the sniper's fire. One of the bolts tore through the thick metal of the shield and imbedded itself only a few inches from Talgris's hand. The rumblers club came down hard grazing his head and cutting into the side of his face just above his eye.

    Blood ran down making him close his right eye, partially blinding him. Talgris brought his axe down slicing the orc's snout and splitting his jaw in two. The creature fell with a horrible gurgling cry. Talgris felt something hit his shield with incredible force. The impact sent him and all one hundred and fifty pounds of armor and equipment flying three feet in the air. Talgris landed hard on his shield and looked back in horror at the black armored orc coming straight at him. The last three snipers had finished reloading and were training their aim.

    "Pira! Get out of here!" Talgris called back realizing his situation. "Go!"

    Pira looked at Talgris in shock. She had never seen him beaten down so badly. This orc was a monster. She didn't want to leave him. The snipers fired. Both bolts sinking into his armor's torso. Talgris screamed and spat blood. The black armored orc stood over Talgris with a look of confident superiority. The snipers reloaded.

    "Pira go!" Talgris groaned through tightly clenched, blood stained teeth. He began to stand but the black orc kicked him hard in the stomach making him fall back on his shield. The orc looked at Pira fluttering in brightly in the night sky, turned towards the snipers and then pointed at her. The snipers turned their crossbows towards the pixxie. Pira, now left with little choice flew as fast as her wings could take her. The orcs fired, their bolts going wide.

    "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no." Pira said as she flew towards Norwick. She couldn't believe what was happening. What would she do if Talgris died? What would she do?

    The orc in black armor placed his boot on Talgris's sword arm and turned his heel on the muscle until he surrendered his battle axe. Talgris grimaced and looked the orc in the eye as the beast simply gave him a demonic toothy grin. The orc pulled back and bashed his metal gauntlet into the side of Talgris's head.

    The world became a nausiating vertigo and then….nothing.


  • A Savage Interlude

    OOC: Talgris has seen the truth of his past and has stopped following an old legend that no longer means anything to him. For those of you who see him, you will notice some differences in him. He has grown paler, his hair has grown out significantly, and he is much weaker than he once was. Things have taken a turn for the worst in his life. He is now struggling to put the pieces back together again.

    Talgris lay on a hill with an arrow pulled back, cocked and ready. He stared down at the men near the campfire, all dressed the bandit armor, huddled around the warmth of the flames. The wind blew cold through the Nars Pass that night. He peered hard into the shadows and counted eight. Eight well armed men. Eight murderers and thieves…..well nine...counting himself. Talgris smiled as he again remembered the contradiction that was the driving force of his life.

    "Be careful Talgris." he heard Pira say from behind him. She stuck her head out of his pack and put her tiny hand on his cheek.

    Talgris smiled. "I will, now get back in there."Talgris said throwing his pack into the bushes and readjusting his aim.

    Pira obeyed and returned to the relative safety of his pack just before she was launched into the underbrush. Talgris took a deep breath, pulled the string on his bow back as far as it would go, his muscles rippling under the stain, and let fly. The arrow whistled through the chilling wind and sank deep into one of the men's backs just under the right shoulder blade. The others stood up immediately, scanning the area for their attacker. Talgris let fly again. The second arrow finding the back of the same man's neck and piercing his adam's apple. The other bandits began running towards him when they spotted him.

    Talgris stood, shouldering his bow he slowly drew Caska and waited for them to approach. The bandits howled charged him en masse. The first man to reach him found Caska slicing furiously through his waist. The blade continued undaunted by the impact and tore through the second man's small shield, severing his arm and driving deep into his chest. Blood sprayed in every direction, bathing Talgris and Caska. The man died before the other's severed torso had hit the ground.

    The third man to reach Talgris lowered his shoulder and rammed it into Talgris's chest sending him back a step. He recovered his balance and elbowed the bandit in the skull. The bandit stepped back shaking his head to clear it from the stars that suddenly appeared in his vision. The fourth and fifth attacker were right on top of him. Talgris took a chance and spun, giving his back to the bandit to his left and bringing his sword around in a wide arc. The bandit behind him struck out. His sword landing on the tower shield strapped on Talgris's back and bouncing harmlessly off. Talgris's swing found soft flesh through thick studded leather just under the second bandit's ribs and tore a gaping line clean across his stomach.

    The bandit who Talgris had elbowed recovered and lunged out just as the last two attackers reached him. Talgris was completely open. The first strike struck the steel plates of his newly purchased armor. The second cut across his tricep drawing blood. The third cut in between the plates of his left shoulder and sliced him. Gritting his teeth Talgris braced his legs and swung hard. The blade slicing through the arm of the man to his immediate left and then digging into the hip of the second. They both fell releasing horrible screams. The last man looked around and grew pale. He stared at Talgris who's eyes were wild and furious. The bandit ran. Talgris's watched him for only a moment before his hand went to his belt. He pulled out his single bladed axe and threw it. It spun and embedded itself deep into the bandit's skull. The man fell silently.

    "Oh...you're hurt!" Pira exclaimed as they made their way back to Norwick.

    Talgris smiled at the pixxie as she fussed around him looking for the wounds she knew were there by the man's awkward way of walking. It was difficult to tell what blood was his though. "Don't worry Pira. I've had much worse." Talgris grinned.

    His smile faded and a grunt of pain escaped his lips. He looked down to find a crossbow bolt sticking out of the higher part of his chest near his right shoulder. He blinked in disbelief. He looked up and saw four large, blue skinned orcs holding large crude crossbows walking slowly towards him with their crossbows aimed directly at him. Behind them came four others, large shields ready and gripping huge spiked clubs. Talgris snapped out of his shock and put his hand on Caska's hilt. The orcs raised the crossbows to eye level. Behind the group came yet another. A large, black armored orc walking with the powerful stride of a seasoned warrior.

    "Oh shit." Talgris whispered under his breath.


  • Talgris and Pira sat in silence. So much had come back to them at the moment of their union. So many sad and painfull memories. Things they never would have imagined were there. They had been with each other as they re-lived their turmoil. Even now, they shared each other's grief. Making it harder and easier to bear all at once.

    "Are you guys alright?" Syne asked.

    Talgris finally looked at him. The pain was still there but at least he could move again. "We're fine." Talgris said. "We just both got a big dose of bad memories."

    "Pira got her memory back?" Syne asked.

    The pixxie simply nodded sadly. "Yes, so did Talgris."

    Syne looked horribly confused. "Talgris? Who's that?"

    Talgris raised his hand at the sorcerer. "It's my real name. It was the name my mother gave me."

    "So who named you Gatsu?" Syne asked.

    "My father." The words were bitter in his mouth. "He wanted his son to have the name of a hero."

    "Talgris ain't a bad name. A little strange but hey." Syne said shrugging. "You mean you didn't remember your own name?"

    "No. It seems I didn't." Talgris said smiling sadly. He looked down to where Pira stood, looking down at her feet.

    "How can I ever face them again?" Pira asked still crying. "I've done such terrible things."

    "It will take time Pira." Talgris said. "Many of them weren't even here to witness the attacks. Don't worry about them. What you need to do is to be able to forgive yourself…....like I have to....for letting my mother die."

    "But that wasn't your fault!" Pira cried out.

    "Niether was it yours for what you did." Talgris responded. "You were under a spell. You can't blame yourself for this."

    Syne looked from one to the other as they talked. "I guess you guys have a lot to catch up on. How about I meet you back at the Inn?"

    "Sure." Talgris said. "And thank you. We couldn't have done this without you."

    "Yes thank you Syne." Pira added.

    "I'm just glad I could help." Syne said. "Let me know if you need anything." With that the sorcerer was on his way, leaving Talgris and Pira near the windmill. "Talgris?" he said on his way down the hill. "Sure, why not?"

    Again Talgris and Pira were in silence. They looked at each other, finding confort in each other's presence.

    "So I guess you don't want to be called Gatsu anymore huh?" Pira asked shyly.

    "It's hard not to think of myself as Gatsu." Talgris said. "Its the name I've lived with most of my life. I've gotten kind of used to it."

    "I'll do my best to call you Talgris from now on."

    "Thank you." Talgris said.

    "What do we do now?" Pira asked.

    "I don't know." Talgris responded. "What can we do?"

    "Talgris." Pira said.

    "Yes?" Talgris asked.

    "I want to help the pixxies. I want them to be free from the darkness. I want them to stop hurting people." Pira seemed to brighten.

    "You mean go into the glen?" Talgris looked incredulous. "What if they attack Pira? I'll have to defend myself. I don't want you to watch me kill your family."

    Pira seemed to take her time thinking of what to say next. "They are not my family, they are more than that. They are...my people. But if it's the only way to help them Gat..Talgris,....I won't hate you if you need to fight back."

    "I'll do what I can." Gatsu replied. "Hopefully it won't come to that. There are ways of going places without being seen. We should ask the druids of the Rawlinswood about your home and its current state. They might know something that can come in handy."

    "I wasn't there when the grigs came to live in the glen." Pira said. "Maybe they're a clue as to what happened."

    "It's possible." Talgris rose from his place. "We should try to find Fade. She might know something."

    "Okay." Pira said fluttering up to Talgris's shoulder. "Where do you think she is?"

    "In the woods....where she belongs." Talgris smiled. "I'll just need to stop by the Inn for a bite first."

    Pira shivered. "I'm telling you. That Misty lady makes pixxie juice!"

    "Only out of pixxie dust." Talgris laughed. "But I suggest you hide in my pack just in case."

    Pira giggled and made her way into Talgris's back pack. Maybe things would be okay after all. It was a lot to swallow for just one day but as long as they were together, they could help each other. Pira was glad she had run into Talgris that night out in the Rawlins. Talgris could not have asked for a sweater friend.


  • Gleamer heard a scream come from outside his home.

    "What now?" He grumbled. Walking over to his window he pulled back the brown rag that served as a curtain and saw a flash of orange light cut right past him. The suddened movement startled him and he nearly fell back. "What was…" Gleamer slowly pulled back the rag and saw the streets of Norwick alive with dancing lights. The pixxies were attacking again. He saw as the people ran, calling out for the guards to come rescue them. Gleamer stared mesmorized at the deadly beauty of the attacking pixxies.

    What could have made them so violent? Where were they coming from? Every couple of nights for the last six months, these creatures had staged small concentrated attacks on the town. They would come, burning everything in sight and cutting down everyone they could. Once the guards came out with their torches and the shamans.....damn! Gleamer remembered his appointed responsibility to help chase the fey away when they attacked. He hated to be bothered but being a spellcaster, he had been appointed by the town. A few sparks of magic here and there should be enough.

    Gleamer opened his window and began chanting a fire spell meant to detonate in the middle of the pixxie cloud.

    "Oh no you don't!"

    Gleamer opened his eyes just in time to see a pixxie coming right for him with a small crystal dagger in her hands. He flew back to avoid the attack, crashing into a shelf and showering himself with old tomes and scrolls. The pixxie was on the move. She flew directly at him and plunged her small dagger into his arm, missing his vein by only an inch.

    "Ahhh!" Gleamer shouted out. He tried to grab her but she was to fast. She moved out of his reach. Gleamer waved his hand at the window and it closed tightly. The pixxie came in again, slashing the gnome's shoulder.

    Gleamer stood up holding his wounds and looked at the little pixxie in front of him. She glowed a bright green as she hovered with the blood stained crystal in her hand. She looked like she was more than ready to kill him.

    The pixxie dove for him but Gleamer was faster. He raised his hand and with a single gesture, stopped the pixxie cold in her tracks. She struggled against the incantation that held her but was powerless.

    "Hey! Hey let me go!" she cried. "I'll kill you!"

    Gleamer smiled at the fey. He had always been curious as to what had happened to make these usually passive creatures so bloodthirsty. He had also been looking for something he could use as a proper familiar. Perhaps it was time to kill two birds.

    Gleamer finished the binding ceremony and dove into the pixxie's conciousness, reading her thoughts, seeing her memories. Her name was Pira. She had never been a familiar before. She came from some beautiful grove somewhere in the Rawlinswood. He could not make out where or why she was this way. She was fighting him. She was not letting him in.

    Gleamer did notice something curious. As the binding continued, Pira became less and less violent. Her bloodlust began to die down. It seemed that as they joined, whatever had a hold on her was slowly losing its grip. She became concious of herself. Of her true self. Gleamer was surprised when he saw her fall to her knees weeping horribly.

    "What's wrong Pira?" He asked. "Why are you crying?"

    Pira showed him. Gleamer was flooded with images of her life in the glen. A life of happiness. Carefree and wild. She flew without any worries, any guilt. Then came a fog. A dark shapeless fog that seemed to consume her mind. A darkness that filled her. She was no longer free. She was a prisoner of fear. A prisoner of hate and mistrust. Her people had gone mad. He saw her come to Norwick on many occasions. Taking the lives of men, women, and children alike. Dozens of lives taken. Her hands drenched in blood. Blood of people that had done nothing wrong. She was heart broken and miserable. The weight of her actions all coming together.

    "Oh Pira." Gleamer said. He pitied the little fey. It seemed some kind of dark force had corrupted her and her kind. They had been driven mad. Driven to murder. It was not her fault. She looked so miserable.

    Gleamer was well versed in the binding ceremony. He knew that if he did not focus, the piixxie could learn him most guarded secrets. She could probe his mind as easily as he probed hers. He did not allow Pira to run unchecked through his mind. However, he felt her pain as surely as if it was her own. Her guilt ran so deep she was suffocating from it.

    "It's okay Pira." He said to her. "You don't need to remember any of this. It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't have to suffer like this." Gleamer recited a few words over her and focused on her mind. He would have to wipe out everything. It was the only way he could make sure she never remembered any of it. As the incantation finished Pira looked up at Gleamer with a shocked yet curious look.

    "Hi." she said sweetly. "Who are you?" She wiped at her face, noticing the tears there. "Why am I crying?"

    "My name is Gleamer." the gnome said smiling. "And yours is Pira."

    "Pira." she said. "Where am I? Why can't I remember how I got here?"

    "You've always lived here Pira. This is your home. I'm afraid one of my experiments back fired on me. You were too close when the blast hit you. It must have wiped your memory clean."

    "Oh you're hurt!" Pira said seeing Gleamer holding two bleeding wounds on his arms.

    "It's nothing. Just some glass. I'll clean up here, why don't you go to the room and get some rest."

    "The room?" Pira asked.

    Gleamer smiled warmly. "C'mon. I'll show you where it is. It looks like we might have to start from scratch you and me."

    Pira looked around curiously at the room that served as Gleamer's lab. She saw the knocked over book shelf and the blood on the floor. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

    "Sure." Gleamer responded. "I'm more worried about you."


  • Draven and his son came back from a long day at the town. Draven had taken Gatsu to see a bardic performance at the local tavern. After talking at length with him, the bard began to tell Draven's favorite story. The story of Gatsu, strike leader of the Band of the Hawk. At that point, Gatsu knew it was only a story that his father loved and wanted to see his son live up to. It was strange, but at least he knew it was a story. When exactly it had become part of his family history is something Gatsu did not understand.

    Gatsu went to bed that night with high hopes of pleasing his father. He had the story fresh in his mind. He could almost see the big scary looking man with his giant sword. He liked the idea. It made him feel…..special in a way.

    "It never happened. None of it did. It was just some stupid bard's tale. Some nice little fantasy my father obssesed about. Some made up guy in some made up world. Someone he wanted desperately to be like but knew he couldn't. So it was up to me to live out his fantasy. I was his little game."

    The sound of clay shattering against his wall woke Talgris up with a start. He looked around, hearing the cries and screams coming from outside the room. His parents were not in their bed. The room they shared was not terribly large. His cot was in the far west corner. Theirs was in the far east. There was barely any space to move around really. Talgris had never known what it was to have his own room. Such things were beyond his birthright as a farmer's son.

    "Stop!" He heard his mother cry from outside the room. He heard another crash. Someone grunted and there was a scream. Talgris couldn't make out the voices. He slowly walked up to the door that stood ajar and peered through the crack. He saw his father holding his wood cutter's axe, covered in blood. His right arm and shirt were likewise stained. Calda stood before him, her face was badly bruised. Blood stained her sleeping gown. She was crying, pleading with him.

    "Please stop it!" she cried. "You're going to kill him!"

    "That I am!" Draven spat, his tounge was thick from drinking. "What makes ye think he dserves any differnt!?"

    "Please Jos, get up!" his mother pleaded looking at something out of Talgris's view.

    "Stop talking to him ye damn whore!" Draven screamed and held the axe high over his head and brought it back down with all his streangth. Talgris heard a wet thunk and saw his father's face sprayed with blood. His mother screamed and ran at Draven.

    "Noooo! You murderer! How could you?!" she dropped down next to something at Draven's feet. Her cries were of pure anguish. Her tears ran down her bloated face.

    Talgris risked opening the door slightly to get a view of what it was. He saw a man lying on the floor of their home. His face and clothes drenched in blood. He wasn't moving.

    "You cry over him?" Draven asked, pointing at Calda with the head of the bloodied axe. "You cry over him in front of ME?!" Draven back handed his wife with a force that put her on her back. Talgris cringed at the sound of the blow.

    "How long has tis been happenin?" Draven asked kicking the motionless body of the man on the ground. Calda cried out and wrapped herself protectively around the body.

    There was a moment where Talgris's father did not move. He simply stood there, seemingly refusing to believe what was happening before him. With no notice, Draven swung the axe in a verticle circle and brought it down hard on Calda's back. His mother screamed. Screamed so horribly it made ice run through Talgris's veins. His father struck again. Cursing his wife with every swing. Talgris could hear the maddness creaping into Draven's voice. He was crying, screaming, and using every curse known all at the same time.

    Talgris stood in the doorway of their room in total shock. He was paralized. Tears ran down his cheeks. Mucus ran down his nose and into his open mouth. He was terrified but not a sound escaped him. He was beyond screaming. Then it came.

    Draven threw the axe across the room. It struck a chair and clanged loudly into a corner. "Is this what you want?!" Draven screamed at Calda's twitching silent body. "Is this what you WANT?!" he repeated taking Calda by the shoulders and throwing her down on her back. Talgris saw his mother's battered, bleeding, dangling head strike the ground. Her head rolled, she was looking right at him. There was nothing in her eyes. They were wide and lifeless. His mother was dead. Talgris's knuckles went white as he held on to door frame.

    Draven through the bottom of Calda's night gown over her chest. He fumbled with the rope that held his breeches up all the while repeating the same frase like a mantra. "Is this what you want?! Huh? You filthy bitch! Is this it?!"

    Talgris began to feel his mind creak like a wooden plank holding too great a weight. He couldn't see this. He couldn't see this. His body stood immobile at the doorway. His eyes wide and unblinking. He saw it all, and with every passing minute his mind buckled under the pressure.

    "Oh my God! Oh my God no! I can't watch this! I can't believe this happened! I must be dreaming! This has to be a nightmare!"

    "It's not a dream Talgris….this happened....I'm so sorry."

    "No! It can't be! I don't remember this! It's a lie! It has to be!"

    "You couldn't handle this as a boy. So you put it away where it couldn't hurt you. You forgot everything before this moment. That's why you've never remembered your mother…...that's why you never remembered your real name."

    "I don't want to remember this! I don't want know this!"

    "That's your choice Gatsu."

    "Don't call me that!"

    "…....then you have made your choice."

    "Oh god! Oh god Pira, that's my dad! I can't believe he's doing that! She's dead. He killed her with his own hands. I just…...I......Oh god mom! MOM!"

    "I'm sorry…..I'm so sorry."


  • "Cut it out!" the young boy in tattered rags called out to his friend.

    "Make me!" His friend, another boy dressed only in his trousers called back picking up yet another ball of packed mud and flinging it.

    "Hey!" the young boy shouted out getting ready to make his own mud ball. The boy noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned towards it and his eyes went wide. "Wow." was all that escaped his lips.

    Curious, his friend turned and was equally captivated by the site. A cloud of beautifull multicolored lights was making its way over the forest and coming right for them.

    The two boys began laughing and pointing as the cloud of rainbow colored spheres cleared the gap between them and the forest. As the cloud flew above them, they were close enough to see that the lights were actually forest pixxies. Thousands of them. The boys jumped, stretching as much as they could trying to catch the fey from the air even though they were flying much too high for them to even come close.

    "I want one!" the young boy cried. "I want one!"

    "I'll get you one." His friend smiled confidently. The boy kneeled down and rolled up a nice big mud ball. Standing back up, he pulled back, ready to let fly with all his might. The mud ball never left his hand. The moment he pulled back to throw, hundreds of small shining crystals flew from the swarm. Small, nearly insignificant, sharpened crystals all pierced the boys' flesh at the same time finding their eyes, mouths, jugulars and arteries. Without even so much as a cry the boys' bodies hit the ground.

    The attack was fast and accurate. The pixxies flew straight into the heart of the barbarian settlement and began their onslaught. Small pixxie casters let out a barrage of spells that began to consume every structure in the area. Other pixxies fanned out, firing their deadly little darts in volleys at those who fled from the fires. Others still took a more direct approach. They dove into the crowds, using small charpened crystal like daggers they cut everyone they flew by. The humans were overwhelmed instantly. There were cries as people began to fall holding many small yet life threatening wounds.

    In moments the barbarians began to organize and lit torches, taking swipes at the passing pixxies. Many of the swings found their marks and the pixxies were swatted out of the sky, burning to death as they fell. The town's shamans, after recovering from their initial shock at this unexpected event, began firing spells into the painfully beautiful swarm that had lit up the night sky. The pixxies pressed their attack but the shaman's spells were large and deadly. In moments, hundreds of pixxies had fallen from the sky, burned down by bolts of lightning and and searing balls of flame.

    Having lost the element of surprise, the cloud of fey pulled back, flying straight up into a spiraling column of lights. The pixxies spread out in every direction once they reached the top of the spire, making it impossible for the humans to follow them.

    Pira flew amongst her people and reveled in their victory. She did not mourn those that had fallen in the battle. Those were simple sacrifices that had to be made to assure the survival of their species. The survival of their home and of the way they had chosen to live their lives. This was the beginning of a great battle. A battle Pira knew they would win. They would drive the humans back to wherever it was they came from. They would not be allowed to burn their forest.

    Pira looked down at herself and realized she was completely covered in human blood. She had been one of the fey that had come in for close combat with the humans. She had only barely avoided their torches on a number of occasions but the exhileration of the experience still ran deep in her veins. She had help take many lives this night but she felt no guilt. Only a deep satisfaction that she was doing what needed to be done to protect her glen from the greed and destructive nature of the humans that would one day threaten it.


  • Gatsu was startled when he felt the cold wet hand grab his forearm. He was having a great dream. He was flying high above the farm. He circled the hen house and spooked the cows. He felt free as the cold winds of the Thesk hills hit his face. As he came down low to buzz the cabin, he saw a dark red hand with an impossibly long arm tear out from the ground and grab his arm with terrible force.

    Femto!

    He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. He felt himself being dragged off his bed. He fell from the sky. He landed hard on the wood beams of his room. He landed in the dirt outside his cabin. Someone was dragging him towards his door. The giant blood red arm began pulling him towards the crater it had created. Gatsu struggled to regain conciousness.

    "Get up boy!" He heard the familiar voice shout. His arm was yanked hard, nearly pulling his shoulder from its socket. The demonic red arm that had spawned from the ground disappeared, to be replaced by a much darker entity. Something he feared more than any hell spawned limb. Gatsu peered through the haze to see it was his father who was unceremoniously dragging him through the cabin's common room.

    "Ow dad! You're hurting me!" he complained.

    His father tightened his grip raised him with one arm. At only six years of age, Gatsu wasn't exactly a significant burden. "Stop yer damn whining!" The man spat. "I'm not raising a little girl here!" With that the big man dropped Gatsu who landed on his rear. It stung terribly but he better than to complain. He had smelled the spirits on his father's breath. He knew what was coming. He sat quietly and waited.

    "I don't know why I bother with you!" His father began. "Do you know how much it costs just to feed you boy?! You and your mother? You have no idea do you? What the hell would you know about anything? All you care about is playing with your little friends! You don't know a damn thing about life, not a damn thing! All I do is work this miserable farm! Look at my hands!"

    Gatsu saw the horrible callouses on his father's hands. He could swear he had memorized those hands. Big meaty palms cut and dried from a life of plowing, picking and lifting. Gatsu tried not to cringe.

    "Take a good look at 'em!" His father yelled. "Those are not soilder's hands. They're farmer's hands!" His father's eyes were small and bloodshot. "That's all I'll ever be! A damn farmer! I should have been a warrior. A great bloody warrior with a big bloody sword. Then people would look up to me! Love me! Fear me! They wouldn't be asking me to pay fucking debts…they wouldn't dare!" His father looked down at the six year old boy at his feet. "But not you. You they will fear. I'll make sure of that!"

    That you did old man.

    The first few times Gatsu had heard this speech he had been terrified. His father had come home late, pulled him from his bed and told him how useless his life was. How he had never been able to join an army because he felt obligated to take care of him and mother. How he had never lived out his dreams because of them. How it was their fault he had become a farmer. How Gatsu would have to make it up to him. By doing what he couldn't. By being a soilder, a warrior, better than anyone. Just like the black swordsman was. Just like that.

    I can't believe you're doing this! Why? What's wrong with you?

    With time, Gatsu had grown used to the routine. His father drank hard and screamed loud but he was never violent. He never struck him, even though he feinted the attempt almost every time. Gatsu however could not help but feel tears in his eyes when he saw his father this way. No matter how much it infuriated him to see him cry. All he wanted was for his dad to be happy. Why did he hate them so much?

    "Draven, please," came the soothing voice of his mother from the room. "Leave the boy alone......he doesn't understand."

    Draven! My father's name was Draven!

    "Of course he does! Don't you Gatsu?" Draven looked down at his son with menacing eyes. Gatsu nodded vigourously. No he didn't understand, but what could he do?

    "Stop calling him that! That's not his name!" Gatsu saw his mother step out from the darkness of their chamber. Her black hair was a tangled mess, her light brown eyes were swollen. She had been crying long before she came out.

    Mom! Mom! It's you! Oh, you're so beautiful! How could I have forgotten you?.......Calda! I remember your name!

    "Yes it is!" Draven shouted. "I'm the boy's father and I'll choose whatever damn name I please. His name is Gatsu! Start getting used to it!"

    Calda looked at her son. Her broken heart in her hands. Her son had such a beautiful name....why was Draven so obsessed with this ridiculous story, this name? Why did he have to put their son through this time and time again. Didn't he see the boy was only six? How could he possibly understand?

    "Tal.." Calda began.

    "No!" Draven was quick to cut her off. He took Gatsu's face in his enormous hands and looked at the boy in the eyes. "Your name is Gatsu you hear me? I'm gonna make a man out of you boy! A man people will learn to fear and respect! Not some damn farmer! A warrior! Don't listen to your mother, you know your true name. Say it. Say your name!"

    Talgris! My name is Talgris you maniac!

    "Gatsu" the boy said shaking in his father's grasp. "I'm Gatsu."

    Draven smiled broadly at his son. "That's right. And what are you gonna grow up to be?"

    "A warrior." Talgris replied.

    "The greatest of warriors." Draven went on.

    "The greatest." Talgris repeated.

    "Good." Draven laughed and ran his rough hand through Talgris' hair. "You see?" Draven asked looking up at his wife. "The boy knows his name. Now get on back to bed woman, I'll be with you in a minute."

    Calda silently obeyed her husband and returned to their bed.

    Draven was still smiling when he helped Talgris back up to his feet. "That's my boy...go on back to bed now Gatsu the Blackswordsman."

    Talgris smiled at his father and made his way back into his room. He crawled under his covers and sank his face into his arms. If being Gatsu would make his father happy, then he would be Gatsu. It was just a name. It didn't matter.

    "I am Gatsu." he said to himself in the darkness. Not truly knowing what he was doing. Not understanding what this would do to him later on in his life. "I am Gatsu."

    I am Talgris. Talgris, son of Draven.


  • Pira sat quietly on a moss covered stone near a pond in the sacred glen. She looked down at her own reflection and smiled. The pond's clear waters lapped lazily against the stone. She sat in admiration as the pond reflected the soft glow of her wings. She ran her hand through her wild green hair and looked around. Everywhere she looked she could see the lightning quick passing of the others of her kind. They zipped through the trees leaving a distinct trail of pixxie dust behind them.

    Reconizing her friend Surn, she moved quickly to catch up to her. Surn saw Pira and began to fly faster, giggling as she knew Pira would be quick to catch on. Pira did not disappoint her.

    "Oh no you don't!" Pira called out and began to give chase.

    The two pixxies flew around the trees of the glen at great speeds. Pira chased Surn through the high branches and under the ficus roots. Surn was faster than Pira when flying in a straight line but Pira was much better at manuvering, giving her the upper hand every time Surn entered a rough spot. Pira gained a little ground with every twist and turn.

    Surn stopped cold in her tracks. Pira, focused on catching her quary was taken by surprise. She nearly rammed right into her. Thinking it was a manuever, she spun around quickly and tackled the unmoving pixxie. Seeing the quiet look in Surn's eyes, Pira released her hold on her.

    "What's the matter Surn?" Pira asked.

    Surn was staring out behind Pira. She wouldn't speak, she only pointed. Pira turned around to see a large gathering of pixxies coming together, all hovering around something. Her curiosity peaked. What could have brought so many pixxies to one place?

    Pira fluttered towards and into the crowd. She hadn't gone far before she saw what the big commotion was about. A single pixxie hovered in the center of the quickly growing sphere of fey. Her skin glowed like glossy onyx. Her eyes were deep burning rubies. Her hair was a beautiful clear white. Pira's eyes widened at the site. She seemed to be speaking. Pira came in closer so she could hear. Before she was close enough hear what the black pixxie was saying, Their eyes met.

    Pira could feel herself falling. She felt her body too heavy to sustain. She felt herself enter a state of total peace. She felt herself expand to where she could feel the thoughts of all those around her. She felt the anger that was slowly rising within all of them. She saw into their hearts. She saw what they were all witnessing.

    She saw flames. Flames licking the branches of the glen as they consumed everything. She saw the humans that had begun inhabiting the forest near her home, the humans from the place they called Norwick. She saw them walking though her glen, tearing down the trees, burning them, capturing her people in with large fine nets and putting them into jars like insects. She saw them killing the animals that inhabited here. She saw them building their ugly wooden houses where her precious glen used to be.

    Pira had never known such hatred, such outrage. Those humans were planning on tearing down her home, taking her people prisoner, and killing all opposition. She knew she could not allow this, she could not let the humans have their way. None of them could. They had to come together. They had to stop this before it happened.

    She felt the rage of the gathering rise like the tide in a storm. She felt Surn come close. She too had witnessed the truth of what would befall the glen. She was angry, Pira could feel it. They had to revolt. They would drive the humans away from their home before they became too many. Before they became too strong. Before they came to take away their home, their freedom.

    Pira hovered silently, listening to the onyx pixxie. She noticed as more and more of her kind came and were shown the truth of what the future held in store. She never questioned the visions. Never questioned the origin of the strange fey or how she knew this day would come to pass. It was not something she needed to question. She had been shown the truth. She knew what had to be done. They all did.

    With time, every pixxie in the glen had come together, in hatred and in fear. They were united in purpose. They had to survive. They could not allow this to occur. The cloud of multicolored pixxies began flying towards the cavern enterance that led to the human's town.

    The onyx pixxie smiled. As silently as she had come, the fey disbursed into a thick black fog and disappeared.


  • Gatsu took a long deep breath. Syne was sitting next to him repeating over and over exactly what he needed to do. Gatsu could still feel Pira's heart in his body. He had held on to the sensation for dear life. He felt as her heart began to slow down as the last of her energy was being spent. She lay quietly in his hands trying desperately to stay awake. The ritual would take an entire day to complete. All of them were exhausted. This was their last chance. Gatsu took one last look around him and began the ceremony.

    The clouds hung menacingly over Norwick that day but did not break. The rains thankfully did not come. Gatsu worked diligently. Syne supervised his every move. Pira lay in the grass near the stream. The simple responsiblility of staying awake taking every last bit of streangth she could muster. She was very thankful for Gatsu and what he was trying to do. Not since Gleamer had she felt so close to someone. Here he was, a merchant's son who lived like a savage in the middle of the Nar's Pass, a man who lived only to avenge his father and friends, a man so full of dark thoughts and sadness, waving his hands in the air and mumbling whole strings strange words, just for her.

    The day creeped by with maddening slowness until the sun finally went to rest behind the western forest. The winds were picking up again. The trees danced in the summer wind. Syne walked Gatsu through every step, every word, every gesture. Over the last few days that they had been trying to perfect the ritual, Gatsu had memorized the neccesary words and gestures. The use of each of the materials and the timing needed to perform the long day task. The only thing he was missing was the understanding of what he was doing. The reason for union of each part of the ceremony. He had finally understood it today. They could not afford to fail. Pira would not last much longer.

    Gatsu placed his outstretched hands over Pira's near lifeless body and spoke the final words of the bonding ceremony. A circle of light surrounded them. Both Gatsu and Pira felt the power of the circle course through their bodies. The light became more and more intense until it was the only thing they could perceive. Their conciousness began to meld as their energies mingled and fused. Pira felt Gatsu's conciousness bleed into her own. Gatsu in turn began to lose the deviding line between his persona and that of Pira. They were becoming one.

    As the ritual was compleated, Pira's mind was opened compleatly to Gatsu. He was able to see into the pixxie's past. He saw things she had compleatly forgotten. The memories that Gleamer had taken from her, all came rushing into Gatsu's mind. As Gatsu became aware of these memories, through their newly established empathic link, so did Pira. Her mind was filled with Gatsu's memories. Memories he had put away. Things he had hidden from himself. Things he did not want to remember. As she was now flooded with her own memories through Gatsu's conciousness, so was Gatsu now shown things he had compleatly put aside. Things that made his blood begin to boil.

    Syne's expression was one of joy and gratitude. Gatsu had accomplished the impossible. He had joined with Pira. Her skin was once again glowing with the intensity of life. She stood erect, her head tilted back, her wings fluttering furiously. Then he saw the look in Gatsu's eyes. His eyes were wide with shock. He looked out into the nothing like he had just been stabbed and was about to fall over. Pira also looked terribly shaken. He unblinking gaze seemed to look right through the man in front of her. Now Syne looked at them both with a worried curiosity. Had something gone wrong? Pira seemed to be in good health but perhaps, somehow, the spell had affected their minds.

    "Gatsu?" Syne asked. "Are you alright?"

    Gatsu heard Syne speak to him but he barely registered it. His mind was on fire. The feeling of Pira's ever present conciousness stunned him. Her distress at the revelation of what her memories were and why they were taken from her confused him. The revelation of his own suppressed memories overwhelmed him.

    Gatsu looked at Syne. His eyes welling with tears of anguish. His gaze was hazy. His hands trembled. He looked like he was falling apart at the seams. "No." Syne heard him say painfully. "By the gods Syne no we're not."

    Syne blinked at Gatsu's use of the word we're. He looked over at Pira who seemed to be in the same state of shock as the big barbarian. Thin lines of tears escaped her tiny eyes.

    "What….what happened?" Syne asked, not daring to come any closer to the pair than he already was.

    "The truth." Pira answered looking at him. "The horrible truth."


  • Syne sat in Gatu's room at the Boarshead Inn, holding his throbbing head. His blue white eyes wandered over to where Gatsu sat. The man looked terribly frustrated. He held Pira in careful, loving hands. With every day that passed her life began to seep away from her. She had compleatly stopped going outside. She had no more streangth left. She could barely stay awake most of the time.

    Gatsu was trying hard to learn what he would need to do to bond with the fey. He sat hour after hour trying to make sense of the tombs Syne had placed before him. The sorcerer had hoped to be able to explain the sensations of the ceremony. The state of mind. The empty acceptance of the magic. The power flowing through the body from the infinite. It wasn't enough though. He couldn't make Gatsu understand by simple words and gestures. Hoping that he would somehow be able to comprehend some of the requirements, Syne provided him with the texts used by wizards to study the ceremony.

    Gatsu's head swam. The intriquite words filled his head painfully. The precise science that seemed neccesary to perform the ritual overwhelmed him. He looked at each page with increasing rage. He couldn't understand half of what he read. The vocabulary was beyond his comprehension. Again and again he asked Syne for clarification. The sorcerer was loosing patience. For four straight days Gatsu had done nothing but read old musty books filled with pompous sounding gibberish and tried to make sense of what Syne told him about the spirit, stillness of the mind and union of the body with the infinite. The only thing that kept him from screaming in frustration was consideration for Pira.

    "You need to rest Gatsu." Syne said still holding his head. "You won't be able to summon the magic if you don't get some sleep."

    "I'll worry about that when I learn how to summon the damn magic." Gatsu growled. "What the hell do they mean by 'the coordination of dimensional vectors'? I don't get it….I DON'T GET THIS!" Gatsu took the tomb and threw it clear across the room. It struck the door with a loud thud.

    Syne looked at the mistreated book lying by the door and then back at Gatsu. He was about to make a sharp comment on how expensive that tomb happened to be but bit his tounge when he saw the look in Gatsu's eyes. Instead he simply shook his head. "It's not that hard once you understand it." he said. "Understanding it however can be complicated because you need to look at things from a very different perspective than what you're used to."

    Gatsu looked over at Pira who lay quietly on the desk. Her gaze lingered over him. She seemed so helpless, so afraid. He clenched his teeth tightly. "Are you sure this is the only way?" He asked Syne.

    "We've been through this Gatsu." Syne said walking over to the tomb and picking it up.

    "It's okay Gatsu." Pira said. Her voice weak. "Don't be mad. You're not a wizard." She attempted a smile but it was strained.

    Gatsu closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had lost so many friends since he had come to Narfell. Everyone he knew had either fallen to the hordes of goblins in the Rawlinswood or to the murderous bandits of the Nars Pass. Even he had felt the cold grip of death take him to the Fugue. If only he could remember how he came back. Why he deserved to live while his friends all slept in the cemetery. He did not want to lose Pira. He would do everything in his power to avoid it.

    Syne closed the large tomb and looked back at Gatsu. It was just too much to learn in such a short time. Not even the most scholared wizard or practiced sorcerer could be expected to perform with so little given to them. His gaze went to Pira. However strong her friendship with Gatsu might have been before, it had multiplied ten fold over the last few days. Gatsu had cared for her every need. He was struggling to save her even though he knew deep inside it was nearly pointless to try. They had come to realize each other's mutual love and friendship. They needed each other.

    "Gatsu." Pira whispered.

    "Yes?"Gatsu turned towards her. He felt horrible. If only he was smarter. If only he could make sense of what Syne told him, of what he read in those books. Four days after starting he felt more useless and confused than when he began. He hated this feeling.

    "Could we please go outside?" I'd like to see the sun and the water before....." Pira trailed off. Gatsu felt a lump form in his throught. Not since Gran's death had he felt so furious, miserable, and powerless, all at the same time.

    "Sure." Was all he could say. Gently he picked her up and carried her outside the room. Syne trailed silently behind.

    The Inn was crowded that day. The people of Norwick sat in friendship and comradery. Sharing tales and drinks. Gatsu's eyes never left the small glowing pixxie in his hands. The certainty of her passing lay heavily on his shoulders. He left the Inn and made his way south towards the town's windmill. The place where Pira and he had spent many afternoons, talking about the world that surrounded them and the people who now and again graced their lives. Syne followed. He did not know why. He felt it was better to let Gatsu be, but he felt he needed to be there.

    When they reached the windmill, Gatsu sat down and held Pira in his lap. She stood up, using his thumb for support she looked around. This was one of her favorite spots. It was quiet. The stream ran past them becoming a waterfall just before reaching the south wall. Vino's fire was only a few feet away, as was the enterance to the glen. A place she could not help but feel drawn to. From here she could see the entire town and the Rawlinswood. A small smile appeared on her lips.

    Gatsu couldn't bear to look at her. He tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. The sky was cloudy and dark. It would rain soon. The wind was picking up. Gatsu felt his own heart pump through the throbbing in his temples. It was strong and regular. He wondered how Pira's heart would sound if he could hear it. It was probably as fast as her wings. Small, powerful, and racing.

    In that instant, Gatsu felt it. He felt Pira's heart. He looked down to see the pixxie looking out at the forest, her hands on his thumb, her bare feet on his palm. He felt the vibration of her heart run through his arm and spread out inside him until it was like he had two heartbeats. One slow and steady, one fast and vibrant.

    Pira turned and looked up at him, her eyes were wide in surprise. Gatsu knew then that she was feeling the same thing. They were joined. Everything Syne had told him came rushing back in coherant patterns. It all made sense. Opening up to the infinite, the links between the physical and the ethereal. Gatsu realized he was capable of doing this. He understood it. He could bind himself to her.

    "Syne." He said excitedly. "Go back to the Inn and get the things for the ceremony. I think I can do this."

    Syne looked at him blankly. "What?"

    Gatsu looked up at him with a wide smile on his face. "I can feel her heart! And she can feel mine."

    Syne looked over at Pira who smiled and nodded vigourously despite her weakened state. With that the sorcerer ran as fast as his legs could take him back to the Boarshead Inn.