Book 5.1

12 Esterealan, Strand’s Shadows



It’s been quite a while since I’ve written in this journal; I’ve been spending an awful lot of time in prayer. Let’s see, after we returned home to Istur and discovered that things have gotten rather out of hand since we’d been away, what was the next momentous event?
Oh, of course: the ceremony. My darling Rhavin was finally recognized by Estereal for his years of faithful service, and he was rewarded with a horse. Yes, I know it sounds dull, but paladins do love their animals. (I made sure to pray to Torodin that, if He ever decided to reward me in a similar fashion, I’d prefer a personal assistant who can take dictation and carry lots of packages)
I was very excited about being let out of Strand’s Shadows to attend the service. Donar and Rachel had been keeping all of us cooped up. I was under strict orders not to go outside at all, and I only managed to buy some gifts, a pair of earrings, a few dresses and a sable coat before I was informed in no uncertain terms that I should not have assumed that an exception would be made for updating my wardrobe. An exception was being made, however, for the Esterealan ceremony; in fact, we were all ordered to go. (Some of my brethren were most ungracious about it, and they were duly chastised by Rachel and Donar.) I was thrilled; I hadn’t seen Rhavin in weeks.
Anyway, the ceremony was long, being Esterealan, but the music was quite impressive. Rhavin looked so very happy. Everyone was there, of course, to share in Rhavin’s big day. (I spied Jven in the crowd, but I never got a chance to talk to her. The Jveltoans kept disappearing; honestly, I think they went to a tavern in the middle of the service!)
There was a reception at The Oasis afterward. Between everyone congratulating Rhavin and Donar keeping an eye on me, it seemed like hours before I got a chance to be alone with him. When I spied Donar deep in conversation with Alanna, I took the opportunity to slip outside, where Rhavin was brushing his new mare (again).
I hugged him fiercely. "Congratulations my love. I'm so proud of you. What a beautiful ceremony. Who knew that crazy bard could sing so well?"
"Not I." he chuckled as he returned my hug and planted a delicate kiss on my forehead.
I stroked the white mare’s silky mane. “She’s beautiful. And gentle. Just like you.” I smiled. “What made you name her Dancer?”
"When I saw her standing impatiently at the stables, stepping side-to-side and tossing her head, she reminded me of this girl I know." Grabbing the reigns, he playfully jumped up into the saddle. Bowing from horseback, he extended his hand to me. "Would you like to go for a short ride?”
I took Rhavin’s hand and he pulled me into the saddle in front of him. I leaned back, enjoying the feel of his warm body against mine in this accursed, unnatural cold. The few Isturians not attending the party at the Oasis stared as we rode by. We relaxed and enjoyed the mare’s gentle gait until we finally had a measure of privacy. Then I turned and kissed him properly.
“I’ve missed you,” I said when I could draw breath.
"I know the feeling." He replied. A gust of snow-laden wind quickly blinded us, forcing Rhavin to pull his cape around us for protection. Tossing her head with a snort, Dancer turned and began trotting in a new direction. With the cape pulled tight we couldn't see where we were going, but a few steps later the wind died down and we emerged from the make-shift shelter. Dancer had moved out of the driving wind, to take shelter between a cobbler's workshop and a warehouse. Snow-drifts piled two feet in a few places as Dancer stood in the narrow alley. Rhavin reached past me and tussled the mare’s mane.
"No one would let me visit you,” he said sadly. “Each time I came by I got the same answer." He reached for the reigns and Dancer began picking a path down the alley. "How is your retraining going?"
“Don’t be offended, my love. They wouldn’t let anyone visit. I had to sneak out just to do some shopping. Can you believe it? As for the retraining, it’s no big deal. Everyone says it will take months, but I’m sure I’ll have it mastered in no time. So how are things going at the new shrine?”
"Actually, I've been a little preoccupied. Dou... Father Wentworth, that is, says things are going well. Even with the few windows still boarded up, the building is impressive. Archbishop Kalros will be pleased."
“That’s good to hear.” Personally, I was concerned that Dougal might not be getting the respect he was due from the other Churches. Istur is a far cry from the cooperation I’d seen it Tonn. It made us look immature, and I intended to put a stop to it. But now wasn’t the time to discuss that. I wanted to focus on Rhavin.
“What has you preoccupied, my love?”
"Everything." He answered, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. "For starters, tomorrow, or the next day, we'll be leaving for Geston. Who knows what the road has in store for us? No one knows enough about Priestess Sara-Ohn's illness to create a cure. Somewhere out there a new goddess threatens us all. I'm sure her manipulation of the weather, is just a start. She's planning something big; even Donar seems worried." Sighing deeply he finished in a softer tone, "And above everything else, I won't have you beside me. Who's going to figure out if we're doing the right things?"
I was appalled at Rhavin’s revelation. “You’re leaving? For Geston? Rhavin, it’s much too dangerous. Haven’t you explained to Dougal that you’re the one who’s going to stop The Fall of the Night of Evil? Surely there’s someone expendable he can send.”
"No one is ... expendable." he replied in almost a whisper. He looked sad, for some reason. "Besides, I have to go and speak with the Archbishop, I want to check on my parents; and of course Kariya will want to find out if her father has made it back to Tonn."
“We should contact the Archbishop,” I conceded reluctantly. “He needs to be updated on The Prophecy. But, Rhavin... I don’t like the thought of you going without me.” I brushed his cheek gently with my hand. “I worry about you.”
"And who's going to keep you out of trouble? Maybe I should have Canliss look after you?" He chuckled.
I gave him a withering look. “Yes, and Marius can keep order while you’re gone.” Rhavin started to laugh, and I silenced him with a kiss that turned steamy despite the cold. When Rhavin finally pulled away, I rested my head against his shoulder. I didn’t want him to go.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” I said.
"On my oath as a Paragon and a warrior of Estereal, I will take every effort in being cautious and diligent to any dangers we might encounter on the road to Geston. When our task is done, I will return to you as swiftly as I can."
I blinked at Rhavin in surprise for a moment. I hadn’t expected him to swear a formal oath. But, knowing he never did such things lightly, I was touched.
“I’ll be counting the days until your return,” I said, and I kissed him again.
"I'm not sure how long the trip will take in this weather but you can be sure my thoughts will be of you always." As he spoke he lightly touched a spot just above his heart. At my questioning look he answered, "I still have the last token you gave. Do you remember?"
I was puzzled for a moment until I recalled the lock of hair I’d given him aboard The Endurance. I’d nothing else to give him at the time, but it was a pitiful gift. “Yes, I do. I’ll have to try to do better next time.” I smiled, thinking of the portrait I’d been sitting for. The artist had done an excellent job. Of course, I’d never have posed nude for anyone with less than sterling talent. I only wished I could be there to see the look on Rhavin’s face when the portrait was delivered.
"My love, it is not the gift that counts, but the act of giving. I cherish every token you've given me. And this one I hold dearer than any of the others because ... it is a part of you. For some reason, I know as long as I have it, nothing will come between us."
I’m not usually so sentimental, but Rhavin’s words brought tears to my eyes. “May the gods protect you, my love, and bring you safely home,” I prayed, and I kissed him one last time.
The sound of Ester's voice alerted us to the audience we were about to have. She and the bard were escorting the choir children back home. The giantess was telling some tale that involved using her tentacle to grab a young boy lifting him into the air. "You've never seen a starfish so large,” she said, while the boy squealed with delight.
We both laughed. “I guess we should get back to the party,” I said regretfully.
People stared rudely when we returned. My brother priests glared at Rhavin, while Donar and Rachel glared at me. I don’t know why they were so angry; they hadn’t told me I couldn’t visit with Rhavin.
After the ceremony, there’s been nothing to relieve the monotony for the past two months. Donar and Rachel expected me to spend my time in prayer and study; much had changed while we were away, and they seemed to feel that I’d fallen behind. In addition to the usual prayer and theology texts, I was given books on the outer planes, undead, astrology, and history to study. Oh, and there’s a magical book on theology and ethics that Canliss stole, which Donar wants me to read.
Well, naturally, I did study the books. I’m a Torodinite, after all, I am curious (and it distracted me from my worries about Rhavin). And naturally I pitched in on the research; we’ve all been scouring the available records and ancient texts for prophecies that might relate The Great Storm or this new, upstart goddess.
But when Donar and Rachel told me to spend my time in prayer, I didn’t think they meant all of my time. After all, I’d been away for quite a while, and there was much to be done. I had loads of personal correspondence to catch up on, and of course I had to make a new to-do list. It’s important for a girl to have goals. Let’s see, here’s my agenda so far:
1. Finish updating my wardrobe
2. Find out from Freddy if Canliss has tithed properly; I really think he’s been taking the Church for granted.
3. Come up with a plan to rescue the crew of The Endurance and use it to cheer up Jven. Her assistance is vital to the plan mentioned in #9.
4. Find out who is behind the mysterious illnesses and disappearances of all the church leaders in Istur and put a stop to them.
5. Solve this little weather problem we’re having.
6. Figure out a way to scry on Rhavin, so I can check his progress and make sure he’s safe.
7. Help Ester and Canliss mend the unfortunate maladies they acquired in Firestorm Peak.
8. Help Canliss get rid of that dreadful ring, but only if I get a satisfactory response to #2.
9. Give Dougal Wentworth a copy of my 47-step plan for establishing Church unity in Istur.
10. Begin a campaign to advance Sal’s standing within The Organization. It’s time for a change of leadership.

Well, I had to rewrite my list here, because Rachel took the other one. Can you believe it? I was just finishing #9 when she waltzed into my room – without knocking, I might add. I wonder if she’s ever been in charge of a proper church before? Honestly, you give some people a little power, and it goes straight to their head.
She picked up my list and read it, again without asking. “What is this?” she asked, the tone of her overly masculine voice indicating clear displeasure.
“It’s a list,” I said, doing my best to sound kind and patient. Honestly, any idiot could see what it was.
She scowled. She does that quite often; it’s causing unattractive lines around her mouth.
“You are supposed to be in prayer, Miss Kryszka.” She always calls me that when she’s upset with me.
“I prayed all morning,” I said. Honestly, I was quite offended. Did the woman think I never prayed?
“All morning? It’s barely eight o’clock.”
“Yes, but I woke up over an hour ago. Becca snores.” I’ve been hinting for some time that I dislike sharing a room, but Donar and Rachel have not been sympathetic.
Well, this led to yet another lecture, which I won’t bother to record here. There was nothing original about it; it was the same as the other dozen or so lectures to which I’ve been subjected since I returned home. Sometimes the lecture would come from Rachel, sometimes from Donar, and sometimes they would gang up on me; but it was always the same lecture: something about humility and devotion and… well, I don’t recall the details.
The point is, I’d heard it before; but I listened again, quite patiently. I’d promised Donar I’d try harder to get along with Rachel. I’d do anything for him; especially lately. He’s been looking quite weary, and I’m terribly worried about him.
When Rachel was done lecturing, I gave her the speech that Freddy, Seregil and I had all agreed sounded the most convincingly repentant. Rachel seemed rather suspicious when I was finished (I knew I should have left out the bit about being distracted by battle flashbacks; that was all Freddy’s idea.), but she left me alone after I promised to pray until nightfall. I did, too; I was pretty sure she’d spy on me.
After six long weeks of this, Torodin smiled upon me and restored my divine powers. This provided quite a diversion, since many of the spells He’d granted me were new and unfamiliar. Naturally, I tried them out. What self-respecting Torodinite wouldn’t?
I was in the midst of my spell practice when I opened the door to someone knocking.
“Nikita?” said Donar, looking puzzled.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, and dropped the invisibility spell. Donar’s attention was caught by the steam mephit hovering around my new gown.
“It’s a steam mephit,” I said proudly.
“I know what it is,” he said. “What is it doing here?”
The steam mephit vanished just then, returning to its home plane. That’s the trouble with summoned creatures; they don’t stick around long.
“It was getting the wrinkles out of my dress.”
Donar sighed and rubbed his forehead. This worried me. “Donar, do you have another headache? Please, sit down.” I pushed aside a pile of unsorted jewelry, books and parchment, making room on the bed.
“Here,” I said, handing him a drink. “Have some cider. It’s warm; I summoned a fire mephit to heat it.”
“Nikita, please sit down.”
Uh oh. It sounded like another lecture was coming. I moved a sack full of shoes from the nearest chair and sat, facing Donar.
“Um, is something wrong?” I asked. I was puzzled. Wasn’t I supposed to be praying and learning about my new abilities? I couldn’t imagine what I’d done wrong.
“Nikita, I understand that you’re excited about your new abilities. But do you really think that Torodin gave you the power to summon beings from the Heavenly planes so they could do your laundry?”
His tone of voice made it pretty clear that I should answer no to that question, so I did. But I guess I didn’t sound very certain of my answer.
“You don’t see anything wrong with it, do you?” he asked with a sorrowful tone. (I feel terrible when he does that. Dante’s been doing it, too, ever since I got home. They keep asking me my opinion about things, then looking upset because it wasn’t the answer they were expecting. They’re both very dear to me, and I wish I could figure out what it is they want from me. It almost seems like they’re mistaking me for someone else.)
“Well, I only used the mephits for chores,” I explained. “They really don’t seem to be good for much else. But I only talked to the other things I summoned.”
“Other things? What else have you been summoning?”
“Well, there was a dog, an eagle, a hound archon…”
“A hound archon!”
“Yes. His name was Gabriel.”
Donar sighed. “Nikita, you do realize that the archons are the angels you’ve read about in the holy texts. The beings that interact with the gods themselves on a daily basis.”
“Yes, I do,” I said proudly. “You gave me those books to read, remember?”
Donar closed his eyes for a few moments; I believe he was praying. I did not interrupt him. When he spoke again, it was to ask me how I’d been feeling, what sort of dreams I’d been having, had I heard or noticed anything unusual lately? He’s been asking me those sorts of questions quite often. What with everything odd that’s happened lately, I believe he and Rachel have been especially alert for any signs or omens that could be sent to any one of us.
We chatted amiably for a while. I was hoping Donar had forgotten about the mephits, but when he stood to leave, he asked me to report to the office after the evening me.
“You, Rachel and I need to have a long talk about the proper uses of summoning spells.”
“Of course,” I said, without asking if Rachel really needed to be there. I kissed Donar on the cheek, which made him smile, and I resumed my studies.

There was quite a long lecture, which ended with my promise that I’d stop summoning creatures in my room; we didn’t want the other priests to get jealous. Not everyone is as powerful as I am. (For the same reason I’ve been asked to stop discussing The Dance of the Dead, which Donar and Rachel believe is some sort of bardic ability. I’m sure they must be mistaken; there have never been any bards in the Kryszka clan.) Also, Donar pointed out that the summoning spells call the same creature each time; whichever one Torodin has assigned to me. He suggested I wouldn’t want to summon them for menial tasks, or they might start to feel taken for granted.
Once all the lecturing was done, there weren’t many spells left that I could practice freely, and things got pretty dull. Besides prayer and services, my only activities were research, and playing chess and poker with my brother priests.
Then there were the funerals. Sarah-Ohn and Jveddeck both perished from their mysterious illness. It was awful, seeing the Jveltoans so down-hearted. I saw Jven at the service, and she cried on my shoulder. The poor thing.
Of course, Sara-Ohn had been perfectly dreadful to me, but still, her death was regrettable. I’m really going to have to find out who was behind these deaths, and deal with them decisively. Clearly it was someone powerful, if they could create an illness even the Soltanites couldn’t cure. But I’m sure I can handle them; even powerful people cast shadows.
We were all distracted a bit by The Festival of Estereal, but the celebration was rather dismal this year. Everyone was depressed after the funerals, food is scarce, and the city is crammed with refugees. Hardly the ideal atmosphere for a party. Even the music at The Word of Law was disappointing; I really don’t think Marius is quite up to the standards set by Temmer Longfellow. I can’t imagine what Dougal was thinking, sending all his most qualified staff to Geston. Perhaps I should have a talk with him.
Anyway, the limited resources at The Festival made it clear that we would need to keep a tighter reign on our resources. I found out from Freddy that Canliss hadn’t tithed at all (Honestly, do people think those offerings are really anonymous?), so I decided to deal with that situation; after all, I’d hate for Canliss to be turned away when he comes knocking at the Shadowlord’s gates some day.
So I sent a very polite note with Alfonso, offering to collect the tithe that he’d forgotten to give and save him a trip to the temple. I couldn’t believe it when Alfonso returned empty-handed except for a hastily scrawled reply saying that Canliss had been “feeding the orphans with his tithe.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Feeding the orphans is a very nice gesture, but what does it have to do with the Shadowlord? I wrote back to Canliss, saying that I was sure the Soltanites would be most appreciative of his efforts, but the Torodinites were rather more in need of gems to use as spell components. I know he has dozens of them. How many did he send back? One. One lousy moonstone, which Freddy said was only worth a hundred gold. I informed Freddy that Canliss is a cheap bastard.
“Adventurers are like that,” said Freddy. “You should never befriend them. They just take you for granted.”
I’m afraid Freddy is needlessly cynical, but he’s right in Canliss’s case. And the man has the nerve to brag repeatedly about what a ‘devoted worshiper’ he is. Hmph. If all His worshippers were so ‘devoted,’ Torodin’s beloved priests would be wearing rags and begging for crusts of bread on the streets.
This is not over. One way or another, I will get a respectable donation from that six-fingered mage, or you can put me in a red dress and call me a Soltanite.


I was not surprised when an invitation was delivered by courier. Everyone in Istur knew about the trial and our supposedly secret mission to Firestorm Peak, and people would naturally be curious. However, this particular invitation somewhat failed to impress me:

Nikita, My Esteemed Adventurer,

Tales of your accomplishments have reached b ears and elicited a spark of interest within me. It has become my habit to invite persons of interest to my home for dinner, and while I normally extend such invitations only to the nobility, I believe your deeds merit an exception. If I am convinced that your reputation is not unfounded, I may have information of interest to you, and perhaps even a business opportunity.

Your attendance is requested at my mansion at sundown on 11 Esterealan. Activities include dinner prepared by my servants and a moonlight hunt of whatever fast natural creature we can find near the grounds. Daylight hunts are far too easy for a man of my skills, and I presume that the same holds true for you. Please respond by the day after tomorrow by courier, letter, or in person.

With gracious intent,

Lord Tore Bertini

Well, his intent may have been gracious, but the letter was as offensive as it was poorly punctuated. “My Esteemed Adventurer” indeed. Even though he’d signed with as Tore instead of Salvatore, clearly intending an informal invitation, I was offended at being referred to as an adventurer, rather than a priestess. What right did this unknown nobleman have to address me so casually?
And a hunt? What could possibly have possessed this man to think that a Torodinite would be interested in hunting? It was hardly a scholarly activity. Besides, my full to-do list didn’t leave a lot of time for dallying with some nobleman whose name meant absolutely nothing to me.
Besides, the whole thing was rather too reminiscent of Duke Evensong for my tastes. I wondered if Canliss had gotten a similar invitation.
At any rate, I quite naturally sent a reply declining the invitation, citing my duties at the temple and pointing out politely but firmly that Torodinites do not hunt. However, Rachel came to me and asked me to accept the invitation. She thought this might be an opportunity to improve the temple’s relations with the local nobility.
I had my doubts, but agreeing with Rachel was certainly likely to improve my relations with her, and it would please Donar. One wasted evening certainly wasn’t too high a price to pay for that, so I accepted, provided I could go shopping. There was a definite lack of proper hunting garb in my wardrobe.
No sooner did I send my letter accepting the invitation, than Dante came to tell me I had a visitor. “It’s your big friend, Ester,” he said, smiling. My brother priests find my friendship with the huge warrior woman rather amusing. I thanked Dante and kissed his cheek. (He seemed to need it; he’s been looking so worried lately, much like Donar.)
Ester was waiting for me in the visitor’s room. I found myself picked up in an enthusiastic bear hug, and I didn’t mind a bit. Ester really is a dear, and I was very happy to see her.
“Nikita, look, look!” she said excitedly. She pointed to her arm, in case I might not have noticed that she was no longer sporting a tentacle.
“That’s wonderful, Ester,” I said. “And I see you have new armor. It’s, er, lovely.” She was sporting a shiny, new shirt of chain mail with a flame motif worked into the armor.
Ester beamed proudly and spun around so I could get the full effect. “And they repaired my head-lamp,” she said happily, pointing to the familiar fire-hazard adorning her head. I’d been trying not to look at it; unhappy memories of being blinded every time I looked at Ester in Firestorm Peak came back to me.
“I see that,” I said. “We’ll have to remember to thank the Azkalites properly for fixing that for you.” (Surely Seregil can come up with a good prank.)
“It matches the armor,” said Ester, pointing to the flames emblazoned on the ghastly lamp.
I was trying to frame a suitable response when a shadow filled the doorway. I turned to see the filthiest human being I’d ever seen. He was a hulking, muscular man maybe a head shorter than Ester. He scowled, lending a further unpleasant cast to his already scarred and weatherbeaten face. Greasy, knotted hair that could easily have concealed a whole nest of pigeons hung down past his shoulders. He was wearing garments that looked like they should still be moving, and I think there were things crawling in them.
“Oh, Nikita, this is my friend, Gore,” Ester said excitedly. “Gore, this is Nikita.”
I made a mental note to repay Dante for not telling me that Ester had brought a ‘friend’ with her. Gore? What the hell kind of a name was that? Then again, I suppose it suited the creature standing in the doorway.
“Nikita, did you get an invitation to the dinner party? Cause, Gore wanted to send the letter back saying we’d come but I told him we should ask your help first, and I don’t know what to wear, and you can do my hair. Oh, this is Gore Garrulous the Third.”
The third? “I see,” I said, doing my best to smile at the big brute.
“He’s my friend. He’s visiting. He’s the, uh, the diplomatic envelope from the Red Bear Clan. He’s visiting Istur. Isn’t that great?”
“I’m sure Istur is much enriched by his presence,” I said, trying to sound sincere. If Gore had been alone I would have yelled for Nysander to come throw him out of the temple, but I was willing to go to great lengths to avoid hurting Ester’s feelings.
“So, did you get invited to this thing?” she asked, handing me a copy of an invitation that was identical to mine except that it was ale-stained and address to “Ester Oxshoulders and guest.”
“I received the same invitation,” I told her.
“That’s great! Nikita’s going, too,” she told Gore, who presumably had already figured this out. He didn’t look that stupid. “Gore knows all about the guy.”
Assuming ‘the guy’ meant Salvatore Bertini, I looked at Gore in surprise. “Really?”
“I’ve been scouting around,” Gore informed me. “I’ve gathered information.”
I looked at the barbarian in surprise as he explained that our host was the nephew of a minor Isturian merchant who’d recently moved here from afar. Apparently the family had ties with House Kolnet, one of Istur’s wealthiest merchant families. Not only had Gore learned more about Bertini than my fellow priests knew, but he was using two and three syllable words. Perhaps he was smarter than he looked?
“So, I take it you’re both accepting the invitation?” I asked, just to be sure. Gore didn’t look like the type who’d be interested in a dinner party.
“Yes,” said Ester happily. “Gore is my escort.”
“Oh,” I said, suddenly understanding. I smiled at Ester, happy that she’d found someone special. Of course, I’d have to keep an eye on Gore; if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.
“That’s so nice for you, Ester,” I said. “I’m happy for you. That’s so nice.”
Even Ester isn’t entirely blind to subtleties. She shook her head, then leaned close to me and whispered, “Gore’s not really my type. But he’s new here, and I felt sorry for him.”
“Oh, I see,” I whispered back. “Are you sure he’s not your type? He’s so… large.”
She frowned. “He only comes up to my shoulder.”
Well, so much for romance. “Do you two need help drafting a reply? I’d be happy to scribe it for you.”
Ester agreed, and they both took seats on black, leather settee. (I made sure to get one of the novices to come clean it afterwards, given the state of Gore’s ‘clothing’.) I quickly wrote the reply and promised to have it delivered by courier.
“I’ve never been on a hunt before,” said Ester. “This is so exciting. What should we wear? Are there gonna be horses? I don’t know how to ride.”
“Frankly, I don’t know what kind of nobleman invites a priestess of Torodin on a hunt. But I’m sure we can find something suitable to wear.”
“Will you do my hair like you did the last time?”
“I’d be happy to Ester.”
“And Gore’s, too?”
Gore and I both frowned at each other. “Well, perhaps we could send him to Canliss for some clean cantrips first. Then I’d be happy to do his hair.”
“My hair is just fine,” Gore protested, his deep voice rumbling.
Ester shook her head. “Nikita knows everything about hair. She’ll help you.”
I smiled sweetly at Gore, who scowled back. Perhaps it would be best to leave the hair discussion alone for now.
“Can I wear my new armor?” Ester asked excitedly.
“No, dear. Wearing armor at dinner would be most inappropriate. You may bring it with you for the hunt, but we’ll need a separate outfit for dinner.”
“So I can wear my normal clothes for dinner?” Ester asked.
“Well, no.” I stood. “We’ll find you something suitable to wear. I think this calls for a shopping trip. I know just where we can find some nice outfits. And boots. I saw this lovely pair of high, leather boots that laced up the sides…”
“But I can’t pay you back,” Ester said sadly. The dear woman had donated all of her wealth to the temple of Azkal.
“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her. I’d naturally given most of my money to Strand’s treasury, but I’d saved a tenth of it for shopping. I had nearly two thousand gold pieces, which was more than enough to spend, even in the current economy.
“Come,” I said happily. “Let’s shop.”
Gore snorted rudely. “Women’s foolishness.”
I stopped and favored him with the glare I’d been practicing for Canliss. “I beg your pardon? I must have misheard you.”
Ester frowned at Gore. “I wouldn’t get her mad.”
“Why not?” asked the ignorant brute.
“She’s a cleric,” Ester explained. “She’s really, really powerful.”
“I’m not sure what you’re used to in your part of the world,” I told Gore, “but in the city, we’re accustomed to a little more respect.”
“Don’t worry,” said Gore, “Lord Bertini will give me plenty of respect.”
I considered a withering retort, but I decided not to bother. The idiot was obviously a lost cause. “Let’s go, Ester.”
While Gore followed behind us through the overcrowded streets, I pulled Ester ahead for quiet conversation. “Ester, dear, we’re going to have to have a little talk about the people you’re associating with.”
“I know he’s annoying and all,” Ester admitted. “But so is Canliss.”
“Well, you have a point there,” I conceded.
We visited all my favorite shops. Petros, Chasiya, Giacomo, Speranza, Luigi, Byron and Marcello were so happy to see me that they graciously tolerated Gore’s presence. Business has not been good. The barbarian refused to try anything on, and wouldn’t let anyone measure his bulky frame.
“I will wear these,” he said, indicating the grubby animal skins in which he was attired.
“No you’re not,” I replied. “Not if you truly want that respect you’re looking for. Besides, if you’re not dressed properly, they won’t feed you.” Ester and I both glared at Gore until he settled down and stopped complaining. I didn’t press the point about trying things on; we didn’t really want that until he’d been deloused by Canliss.
Fortunately, I have some experience buying gifts for men, and I was able to pick out suitable clothing that I knew would fit Gore. (I settled for the less expensive clothing for the brute, knowing he’d probably ruin him. I picked out good quality garments for Ester. In addition to those boots I wanted, I found a gown that would go nicely with my new sable coat, and a lovely pair of diamond and onyx earrings for myself.)

Well, naturally I hired a carriage for the evening of the dinner party. (For myself and Ester and her barbarian friend. I was still annoyed with Canliss; he could get there on his own.) Ester arrived in time to be properly groomed, but Gore showed up just as the carriage did. He’d been cleaned, thanks to Canliss, but his hair was still a wild tangle and he was wearing those awful clothes.
“What happened to the shirt and breeches I bought you?” I demanded quite reasonably.
Gore shrugged. “I threw those away.”
That ungrateful brute. “Get in the carriage, Ester. We’re leaving.”
“But what about Gore?” she asked anxiously as we climbed inside.
“He can walk,” I said. “Driver, you may go.”
Ester waved sadly at Gore as we departed.
“Honestly, Ester, that man has no manners at all.” We had a long talk about ways that Ester could teach him some. “Perhaps at the dinner you should refrain from introducing Gore as your friend. He’s really just an acquaintance, upon whom you took pity.”
“Hey, there’s Canliss!” Ester waved cheerily as we passed the six-fingered mage walking along the road. “We should stop and pick him up.”
“He can walk. He needs the exercise.”
Ester protested, but I was unmoved. Canliss had more than enough funds to hire his own carriage if he wanted one. He was turning into quite the miser.
“But he’s wearing nice clothes,” said Ester, confused.
“I’m sorry, Ester, but we are not giving Canliss a ride.” I explained to Ester my feelings about people who claim devotion to the deity without actually demonstrating any, but I don’t think she understood.
The Bertini manor turned out to be a stately edifice with a long carriage drive, nestled in a large expanse of woods. We passed many elegant carriages leaving as we entered. Apparently, the parties were non-stop here. I suppose indolent young nobles have nothing better to do with their time.
Naturally, the guards at the gate asked to see our invitations. Ester looked troubled.
“Nikita, Gore is my guest. He doesn’t have his own invitation. How’s he going to get in?”
“He should have thought of that before he threw his new clothes away.” I had certainly thought of it, when we left him behind.
“I’m bringing a guest!” Ester told the handsome young guard who greeted us.
The confused guard blinked his rather lovely green eyes in confusion. “Is this your guest?” he asked, indicating me.
“No, this is Nikita.” Ester regarded the poor man as if he were some sort of simpleton for not identifying me on sight, even though he’d never seen me before. (I suppose he might have attended a show at the Port o’ Call, but he didn’t look familiar.)
The young guard looked around, in case Ester’s ‘guest’ might be hanging off the back of the carriage. Seeing no one, he looked back at Ester, dark brows raised in elegant query.
“He’s coming after us,” said Ester. The young guard looked disturbed, clearly not sure how to take this remark.
“His name is Gore,” said Ester, which did nothing to ease the guard’s concern. “Gore Garrulous the Third. He come us to here on me (we were sitting in the carriage, mind you), and he’s got a beard, and… What else, Nikita?”
“He smells.”
“No, not any more. Canliss fixed him.” Ester continued on a lengthy description of Gore, until the poor guard had enough and encouraged us to drive on through. I smiled by way of apology. He really was quite handsome (not as cute as my Rhavin, though).
“It’s okay now,” Ester told me in case I hadn’t been paying attention. “The guards will let Gore in.”
I smiled at Ester, hoping she was wrong.
We had to wait for a while as the last of a group of elegant carriages with richly attired occupants departed. “Driver,” asked, “all these carriages… is this typical?”
“Aye there, Sister. There’s always soirees and such up here. Always cartin’ folk to and fro, like there own place isn’t good enough for them to eat in that night.”
“He has dinner parties and soirees?” asked Ester. I explained to the giantess, then I tipped the driver graciously for not laughing. We got out of the courage and were greeted by a well-groomed, older gentleman who had to be the butler.
“Do you have your invitations?”
We handed them over. The butler welcomed us, greeting us each by name. Then he looked at Ester. “Did your guest decide not to join us?” (We could only hope so.)
“He was unavoidably detained,” I said, before Ester could say anything.
“I see,” said the butler, who was too well bred to inquire further. “Very well, this way.”
I was quite disturbed when we were led not into the estate, but around the back. There was a well-appointed dinner table set up on a rear credenza overlooking the grounds. What the hell? Were we going to dine outside like savages?
Three guests were already there, warming their hands near a large bon-fire. One was a short, young woman in rather plain attire. She had fair skin and dark brown hair that might have looked nice if it weren’t pulled back so severely. There was a tall, pretty blonde chatting with her. The blonde was dressed in stylish pants and a blue, silk shirt that matched her eyes. Standing behind the blonde and looking over the table settings was a plain, dark-haired woman who carried, of all things, a sickle.
“We’re eating outdoors in the winter-time?” I heard the blonde ask doubtfully as we approached the bon-fire. I introduced myself and Ester. The blonde introduced herself as Val, and the dark-haired girl as her friend, Affe. The short woman was named Bianca.
“It seems we’re dining al fresco this evening,” said Bianca. “How novel.”
“That’s one word for it,” I said. Val laughed.
Canliss arrived a short time later. He was dressed very nicely. Ester introduced Canliss. I decided to snub him. There was a pretty gray and white cat winding around the mage’s leg.
“Oh, he’s so cute,” said Ester. “What’s his name?”
“Corey,” said Canliss.
Ester, Val and I stooped to pet the cat, who purred with approval at all the attention. I made a mental note to let Donar know that Canliss had acquired a familiar. Mages who abuse such relationships are a pet peeve of his; I could think of few mages more likely to take advantage of a helpless cat than Canliss.
“Nikita, can I change now?” Ester whispered to me. “They’re wearing their armor.” She pointed to Val and Affe, who had both donned light armor over their clothing. Normally, I would have disapproved; but any nobleman who thought it fashionable to dine out of doors in the middle of Esterealan had no right to expect proper attire from his guests.
“Oh, why not,” I said. Ester happily put on her chain shirt, explaining its origins to Canliss. Then she put on the headlamp.
“They fixed the headlamp?” he whispered to me. We exchanged a dismayed look, and I realized I’d have to let go of my feud with him. I’ll get that tithe out of him sooner or later, but there’s no reason to let it dampen our friendship.
“Of all the things Ester lost,” I complained, “why did the Azkalites pick that to repair?”
“So,” said Val, “does anyone know why we’re eating outside?”
“Because it’s al fresco,” said Ester.
Val chuckled. “Well, that explains it.”
Ester gave me a dose of puppy dog eyes and pointed to the decanters wine already sitting on the table. “Nikita, do you think we could have some of that?”
I shrugged. “Go ahead. Since our host is rather lacking in manners, I don’t see why we should behave any differently.” I joined Val at the bon-fire.
She smiled in the direction of Ester, who was drinking merlot from the decanter. “Are you, uh, acquainted with this person?”
“Ester?” I smiled and nodded. “Happily so. She’s a real sweet-heart.”
Ester came over and showed Val her headlamp.
“That’s very unusual,” Val said diplomatically. Affe, standing behind her, snickered and said nothing. She was a quiet one.
Ester explained the helmet’s origins in great and confusing detail. “I bought this from the evil dwarves who lived under the mountain. We were there when it was on fire, me and Nikita and Canliss. And Kariya and Jven and Rhavin were there, too. Kariya had a really smart dog named Ulfie.”
Val raised an eyebrow at me.
“Pet,” I whispered.
“Kariya was a powerful magic person in the army…”
“Army mage,” I whispered.
“She had to leave,” said Ester.
“Important mission,” I whispered.
Val graciously complimented Ester on her garish army, which pleased the giantess to no end.
“So if we’re eating outside,” said Ester, “does that mean we’re going to hunt inside?”
“Usually, you hunt inside,” Val explained.
“If we’re hunting a mouse, I’m leaving.”
Val chuckled. “The invitation did say something about hunting in the dark.” We all looked overhead at the new moon. Aside from the bonfire and a ring of torches, it certainly qualified as dark out here.
Servants came out and started setting the table. They filled glasses with water and wine, and set out dinner rolls. Ester promptly stuffed several rolls in her mouth. I didn’t bother trying stop her.
“I wonder when Master Bertini will be joining us,” said Bianca. There was still no sign of our host.
His absence was making Canliss and me rather uneasy. “Nikita,” Canliss whispered to me, “do you think there’s any chance this will be similar to another dinner party we attended, do you?”
I shuddered. “Don’t even think of it.” I’m afraid Duke Evensong has put a permanent taint on our perception of dinner parties. If there had been a harpsichord present, I do think we’d both have fled.
“Please tell me you came prepared,” said Canliss. “Just in case.”
I arched by eyebrows at him. “I’m always prepared.” I was, too. I had extra make-up with me, and all my spell components.
The servants finished setting the table just as the sun started to set, painting long shadows across the scene. We all stopped and stared curiously as we spied a tall man approaching from the grounds. Our host wore elegant hunting garb, but his boots were filthy. He was tall and slender, with fair skin and shoulder-length hair that was bleached almost white. As he got closer, we could see that he was very young; he couldn’t have been more than eighteen.
He strode up to the table and flashed a smile that reached his clear, blue eyes. “Welcome to my home. Come, sit. Join me.”
He sat, without pulling out a chair for anyone, leaving us to decide for ourselves which seat to take. I rolled my eyes at Val as we all sat down. Servants approached and covered the table with steaming dishes.
There were two empty seats at the table. I was hoping we’d be spared Gore’s company, but he arrived without an apology in the middle of the soup course.
“Ah, good, good,” said our host. He pointed to one of the empty chairs.
“Psst. Psst!” hissed Ester, who’d insisted on saving a seat for Gore. He sat in it, pausing only to favor me with a glare that was supposed to be intimidating, I suppose. I blithely ignored him.
“Pleased to see you….. Ambassador,” said Tore.
I couldn’t hold back a chuckle at that, and I wasn’t the only one. Ambassador, indeed.
“Your reputation proceeds you,” said our host with an amused smile.
“Is there someone else missing?” asked Canliss, looking at the still empty chair.
Our host shrugged. “I send out many invitations to these events. There’s always someone who doesn’t show.”
I eyed the chair and wondered who the lucky slob was. Someone free from Rachel’s well-meaning advice, apparently.
Gore looked smugly at my cleavage. “Kind of cold, isn’t it?” he said unkindly.
“Yes,” I said. I smiled insincerely at Tore. “This is a most… unusual setting for a dinner party.”
He smiled and nodded. “For hearty adventurers, people who have done great deeds. This is perfect, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is,” said Gore. Ester nodded. The rest of us rolled our eyes at each other. Apparently, our host was more accustomed to adventurers of Gore’s mentality.
“Not all adventures are cold,” said Ester. “Some of them are really hot.”
We all looked at Ester with varying degrees of confusion. “Do tell,” said our host.
Ester needed little encouragement. “Well there was this one time, we were under a mountain, and it was on fire.”
“A Volcano?” asked Tore.
“No, it was a mountain on fire.”
“It was called Firestorm Peak,” I explained.
“And when we were in the Desert of Despair,” said Ester, that was also hot.
“That was the Plains of Despair, Ester.”
“But it was hot,” said Ester. She gave a confused account of our adventures to which Canliss and I did not offer explanation. It was more fun for us to hear Ester’s version.”
When Ester’s garbled tale had wound down with an excited explanation of shopping with the evil dwarves, our host turned to the others. “Bianca, do tell us about your days at the University.”
She smiled demurely. “Oh, there’s not much to tell. I was a bit dull, honestly. Well, I suppose I got into trouble once or twice. But everybody does.”
Our host raised his eyebrows. “Do tell.”
“Well, in my younger days I was rather politically active.” Politically active? At the College A’Magigo? What, had she been campaigning to have them admit bards and illusionists? Perhaps Bianca was more interesting than she looked. I wondered if Donar knew her. He generally makes it a point to meet all the mages in town.
“You gonna eat that?” asked Ester. I pushed my leftover pheasant toward her without looking. I didn’t want to accidentally get sight of the massacre happening over Gore’s plate. I’ll bet farm animals have better table manners.
Our host noticed Corey begging for scraps. “Oh,” he said, seeming intrigued rather than disapproving. “You brought your pets.”
I was confused by the plural until I noticed a cute, little ferret poking its nose out of Bianca’s pack. She smiled and fed it a piece of pheasant.
“Pets?” said Canliss, sounding rather haughty. “These are our familiars.”
“Familiar? Is that another term for pet?”
We all looked at Tore, wondering what rock he’d crawled out from under. How could he possibly not have heard of familiars before? Even Gore was looking at him as if he were stupid.
“Familiars help us with our magic,” Canliss explained.
“Oh? How is that?”
“That’s complicated. But they’re very useful.” Canliss stroked the cat’s chin. “His name is Corey.”
At this point, the ferret crawled out of Bianca’s pack and into her lap, where he promptly started munching leftovers from her plate. (He was neater than Gore, I might add.) “Meet Rigoletto,” she said.
I smiled. “Two animals sacred to Torodin. This must be a good omen.” Frankly, I hoped it meant our evening would end early and we could all go home.
“He, uh, likes attention,” said Bianca, as Rigoletto climbed onto the table and started introducing himself to everyone. Our host, clearly a stranger to etiquette, did not protest the ferret’s breach of manners.
“So, Val,” said Tore, “have you had any adventures.”
“Not like these people have had,” she said, pointing to Canliss, Ester and myself. “I’ve been in Istur my whole life. I’ve hired myself out to some of the local families.” She dropped a few names, but declined to mention the details of her work. Evidently, her employers expected discretion.
Our employer tried and failed to get a story out of Affe. I wasn’t sure if she was shy, disinclined to indulge our annoying host, or had the sort of adventures that didn’t bear up well under public scrutiny. This was Istur, after all.
“Have any of you fought dragons?”
“Oooh, we did! We did!” said Ester. At encouragement from Tore, she launched into an account of Sablius in Deception Pass. Canliss and I were obliged to step in and explain a bit, because we didn’t want people thinking we were in the habit of attacking good dragons.
Twice during the story, two older noblemen came out and spoke quietly to Tore. Neither one introduced themselves, which was extremely rude.
“So, Lord Tore,” Val asked once the story had wound down. “Has your family lived here long?”
“My Uncle Lothar was kind enough to set me up on these grounds,” said Tore. “I grew up here in Istur. I had my coming of age party recently. We’ve been having a number of parties.”
“I see,” said Val. “We saw a number of carriages leaving earlier.”
“Oh, that was a boring party,” said Tore. (And this wasn’t?) “That was all the old people.” I realized that everyone at the table, aside from Tore, was in their twenties.
“Did you leave that party early?” asked Val. “We noticed you came in from the grounds.”
“I had to make sure everything was set for tonight.”
“Will we have to ride horses?” asked Ester.
“No,” said Tore. “That would be too easy.”
“Can you tell us more about it?”
Tore smiled. “We were able to get some very good creatures for the hunt.”
“Oh, what sort?” asked Canliss.
“Can’t tell. That would make it too easy. Trust me, there will be some very interesting game.”
“I thought we were hunting,” said Ester, confused.
“We are, Ester,” I soothed her.
“Will you be joining us?” asked Val.
“Yes,” said Tore happily. Oh, that was just great. I was going to have to keep an eye on him. The last thing Strand’s Shadows needed was for some fool nobleman to get himself gored to death while a Torodinite was present.
“What will we be using for the hunt?” Canliss asked.
“What did you bring?” asked our host.
“Ooh! I brought something.” Ester lifted up her pack, pointing to Hilt, which was tucked in an outside pocket.
Our host looked at the bladeless sword in some confusion. “Is it broken?” he asked.
“She can’t tell you,” said Val. “That would make it too easy.”
We all laughed.
“I can’t show you,” Ester said. “Nikita said I shouldn’t take it out during dinner.”
“Oh, let’s see it,” said Tore.
Ester looked at me. “Nikita, is it okay if I take it out?”
I sighed. This dinner party is destroying everything she’d learned about proper etiquette. “Yes, Ester.”
Ester touched hilt to the shard of Last Laugh hanging from her neck. “Blade of steel,” she said, and the blade appeared.
“Wow! That’s a neat toy.”
Ester scowled at our host. “It’s not a toy.”
“Anyone else have anything neat?” Tore asked.
“Nope. Nothing,” the rest of us said in unison. Canliss doesn’t like to share his toys. I don’t own any magical items, and I’d promised not to bring up The Dance of the Dead (although it certainly would have put a quick end to the evening). I can only speculate as to the others’ motives.
As the meal wound down, our host asked us to join him in the study for some sherry. The study was sparsely furnished, and Canliss and I both relaxed when we saw there was no harpsichord. I glanced around while Tore poured the port. There wasn’t a single book in sight. What kind of study was this? I saw Canliss frowning as well; none of the valuables were small enough to pocket easily.
“To the hunt!” Tore toasted us unimaginatively.
The sherry was very good, if a trifle strong. While the rest of us sipped politely from the delicate, crystal glasses, Gore and Tore chugged theirs like dock workers in a drinking contest.
“You’re supposed to sip it,” Ester said in disapproval.
“Oh, come on now,” Tore said to those of us who were sipping. He poured a second glass for himself and Gore. “Come, come; it’s cold out there. We must fortify ourselves.” He topped of everyone’s glasses while he and Gore downed a third glass. Great, we were going to hunt in the dark with a drunken nobleman on our hands.
“Actually,” said Val, “it’s a fallacy that alcohol keeps you warm in cold weather.”
“Oh, posh.” Tore poured a fourth glass for himself and Gore. The rest of us drank very, very slowly. I was surprised when Canliss drained his glass twice, until I remembered he can cast a ‘dry’ cantrip. He’ll do anything to suck up.
After four glasses, Tore’s words were only slightly slurred; and he was no longer subtle in his admiration of the women’s cleavage. He walked unsteadily to a cabinet and pulled down an elaborately carved long bow.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen a bow that nice,” said Canliss. “That’s a very impressive piece of work.”
“Thank you.” Tore burped. “It was my gran’fathers.”
I frowned at Canliss, hoping this was just innocent admiration. I don’t approve of stealing family heirlooms; they have sentimental value.
“Gather your things,” said Tore. “It’s time.”
I sighed. “I need to change.” I wasn’t the only one. There were ornate screens provided for this purpose. Sadly, Gore and Tore managed to guzzle more port while we dressed. The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances as we followed our wobbling host and the barbarian out into the snow.
When we were all assembled, our host pointed with an unsteady hand. “Out there in the grounds, my servants have just released some animals.”
“What sort of animals?” I asked.
“Animals,” he said, smiling.
“Is it a dog?” asked Ester. “A wolf.”
I rolled my eyes at Canliss. “I am so not using a gem to find out what we’re hunting.”
“It’s your job,” our host continued, “to find it, and get it.”
“It or them?” asked Canliss.
“Oh, smart one,” said Tore, without answering the question. Gods, he was insufferable.
“Get it or kill it?” asked Val.
“I need to have trophies,” said Tore. Well of course. Naturally we preferred the heads of dead animals to decorate our study rather than, say, any books.
“Why are we doing this?” said Val. “What is the job?”
“If you’re good at this, I have work for you.”
“What sort of work?” Val persisted.
He shrugged. “Can’t say. My Uncle, he got a lot of work to be done. He say to take care of stuff for him, and t'is was best way go about it.”
I glared at the annoying, drunken, possibly illiterate young nobleman. The Jveltoans would give up drinking before I’d consent to be an employee of this idiot.
“Is this hunt legal?” Val asked. It was clear from her tone that she shared my opinion of our host.
He shrugged. “We’re on private groun’s. We can do anythin’ we want here.”
Even Canliss and I were uneasy at that. Not that we’re sticklers about legalities, but we’d have to draw the line at hunting, say, refugees. I’ve heard rumors about the way some nobles treat commoners.
“Okay,” said Gore. “Let’s go.”
“Good luck,” I said. I stepped forward to shake Tore’s hand, but not before casting ‘Status’ on him. At least this way, I’d know where he was if he got himself into trouble.
“Don’t worry about her,” Gore said rudely. “She only cares about clothes and stuff.”
Gore and Tore wobbled off into the dark, arm in arm. As if things weren’t bad enough, Ester lit her head lamp. The rest of us appropriated some of the torches sticking in the ground and, with mingled sighs of resignation, followed her.
“I suppose,” I said sadly, “it would be rude to go back to the study and wait for this to all be over.”
“Yes,” said Val, laughing. “I’m afraid it would.”
Canliss offered to scout in owl form, but he let me cast the Status spell on him first. “Can Corey stay with you?” he asked.
“Corey is always welcome.”
Canliss shifted into owl form and flew off into the dense woods. “He does this a lot,” I explained to the others, as we caught up to Gore and Tore.
“Ten gold to whoever spots it first,” Tore cried. This sparked some effort from Bianca, Val, and Affe, who’d otherwise seemed disinterested. Perhaps they were in need of funds.
Crunch. Crunch. Gore and Tore, to no one’s surprise, were making an enormous racket as they stalked their prey.
Bianca sighed. “Maybe we should split up?”
“No, no.” said Ester. “Formation is strong.”
“Who said that?” Val asked skeptically.
“Kariya,” said Ester. “She’s in the army. She knows.”
Val rolled her eyes. “You can’t fight well if you’re in formation.”
Gore turned around and glared at us. “Shhhhh! Quiet.”
“Did I tell you this was my grandfffrrr’s bow?” Tore slurred loudly.
Suddenly uneasy, I held my hand closer to the light of my torch. It was just as I feared; I’d torn a nail. I looked around me, scowling. Was all this underbrush really necessary? Surely we could have carried out this silly hunt in a nice hedge maze; preferably one with benches.
Corey suddenly reached up past my boots and dug his claws into my thigh. Canliss is really going to have to teach the cat a less painful way to get a person’s attention.
“Canliss found something!” I called. “He’s frightened.” This I picked up from the Status spell. It didn’t bode well; Canliss doesn’t have the sense to be afraid of most things.
“Oooh! I see something,” Gore called excitedly.
“Could you be a little more specific?” I snapped. Stupid barbarian.
We heard the whine of magic missiles ahead of us. They flared through the trees into the undergrowth, where shadowy forms were moving. A huge, panther-like thing emerged from the bushes near Gore and Tore. It foot-long fangs and scales along its back. If this was a ‘fast, natural creature,’ then I’m Soltana’s avatar.
“How exciting!” Tore called. “Ten gold for the first blood!”
Two more of the panther creatures emerged, each of them only slightly more ‘natural’ than the many-eyed monstrosities from Firestorm Peak. Where the hell did Tore get these things? Was he really stupid enough to believe they were natural, or was it all an act?
One of the creatures slipped on some grease (I had a pretty good idea where that came from). But the others raced through the underbrush, proving that Tore hadn’t lied about one thing; they certainly were fast.
One of them stopped and let out a long, wailing howl that chilled the flesh and caused the hair to stand up on the back of my neck. Some of the others appeared wide-eyed and shaken. What in the Shadowlord’s name were these things?
With a savage roar, a panther-beast leaped at Gore. It’s claws savaged the barbarian’s arms. Gore rocked on his heels, but that might have been the sherry.
Clearly, we needed some help. I summoned a Celestial giant owl above the panther still hidden in the bushes. Deciding to play a hunch, I called out in Celestial, ordering the owl to employ its ability to Smite Evil. It swooped down and lashed out with its claws. The panther screamed defiance, and there was a flash of holy light.
“These beasts are evil,” I yelled to the others. Evil and unnatural. I looked suspiciously at our drunken host. What was going on here?
“No, really?” said Val. She was still shaking, and obviously trying to bolster her nerves with bravado. You had to admire the girl’s spirit. She leaped forward, slashing at the panther nearest her. Her blade stuck it in the shoulder. Quick as a thought, she leaped back again. Now, there was a woman who fought with style. Behind her, Affe swiftly fired two arrows into the same beast. It seemed this two had done battle together before.
I heard Bianca casting. A web appeared on the central panther. My owl barely managed to get out of the way.
“Sorry,” I called to the owl in Celestial. “These people are amateurs.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaargh!” Gore bellowed. Foaming at the mouth, he stabbed the panther that had clawed him with his spear. The beast screamed as its blood sprayed out in a reddish-black fountain. I looked away from the spittle flying from Gore’s mouth. Really, it was disgusting.
Ester charged past a surprised Val and slashed at the farthest panther with Hilt. Blood went flying.
“There’s one!” called Tore, pointing to the beast two feet in front of him; the one whose claws were wet with Gore’s blood.
“Watch your back, Gore!” I called, but too late. A volley of arrows went flying in rapid succession. Two struck the panther, but one hit Gore in the back.
“Sorry about that,” said Tore, belching.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I said. Gore might be obnoxious, but at least he wasn’t a menace to the rest of us.
Snarling, two of the panthers clawed Ester and Gore badly. Meanwhile, the one trapped in the webs and voiced that unearthly yowl. We all shuddered, but no one seemed inclined to run away. We had a courageous group here.
Gore was looking pretty bad, so I sent my owl over to help him out. It clawed deeply into the creatures side. Meanwhile, I surveyed the battle, looking for another opportunity to strike. Thanks to Ester’s headlamp, the creature fighting her was casting a tempting shadow. Before I could take advantage of that, however, Corey, meowed anxiously and clawed my leg. He was looking behind us.
I summoned Gabriel. The hound archon stood before us, looking like some celestial paladin with his shining armor and glowing blade. Well, except for that dog head. I ordered him to guard our rear.
“There’s one or more behind us!” I warned the others. Our warriors already had their hands full. Val danced around her opponent, jabbing and dodging while Affe plugged it with arrows. Meanwhile, Ester and Gore hacked away in a less elegant, if no less effective fashion. The panthers were all bleeding badly. Thanks to the light of Ester’s headlamp, I could see they’d looked pretty nasty to begin with. The beasts were emaciated, with unhealthy black skin and open sores; they were even more disgusting than the barbarian.
“Oh my god,” I heard Val say. I glanced over to see that Ester had carved some interesting geometric patterns into their opponent. It was staggering.
Still raging, Gore slashed into his beast again and again. Blood flew, and the thing staggered.
“Devil dog!” said he stupid nobleman, pointing at Gabriel. Then that big, drunken oaf shot three arrows into the back of MY hound archon. What the hell? Didn’t that big idiot know that archons are the servants of the gods, and favored companions of Estereal himself? I apologized to Gabriel, not that he was complaining. He was just happy that there was evil to be fought, and I didn’t call him just to chat this time.
“Good thing I’m too much of an amateur to have summoned anything,” Bianca said angrily in Celestial.
“I beg your pardon?” I demanded. It occurred to me that I wasn’t doing such a good job making friends for the temple, but I didn’t care to be spoken to in that fashion, not in any language.
An owl swooped down, then Canliss appeared beside me. “There’s another one coming. It’s about a hundred yards away, sneaking up toward us from behind.”
“Well go get it then,” Ester called over her shoulder. “We’re busy.” She dodged as her opponent slashed at her. To her left, Gore did likewise. My owl swooped in, clawing his opponent. Meanwhile, I sent Gabriel off to hunt down the one that was flanking us. He could see in the dark and detect evil at will, so it wouldn’t be a problem with him.
“What is that thing?” Tore called.
“Our ally,” I snapped. “Quit shooting him, you big idiot.”
“Well, why din’t ya say so,” he slurred. “What sh’d I shoot next?”
I pointed to his foot, but he didn’t notice. “That one,” Canliss called, pointing to the beast still clawing its way out of Bianca’s webs. The nobleman fired a volley of arrows, and the creature snarled in pain.
No matter what Tore was shooting at, he was still a menace. I tried to cast ‘blindness’ on him, thinking even a drunken idiot would know better than to shoot blind, but he resisted the spell’s effects.
Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one who’d decided it was time to deal with our drunken host. Bianca approached him, casting a spell behind her back. The ties on Tore’s bow unraveled. His quiver fell to the ground, spilling arrows everywhere.
“Oh, here, let me help you,” Bianca said innocently. She bumped into him, knocking him aside.
“Hey,” Tore slurred. “Now’s not the time, sweetheart. Maybe later…”
Ignoring his rude remarks, Bianca pulled more arrows out of his quiver and stood on several more. Any Torodinite would have been proud of her performance. I resolved to put an end the unfortunate animosity that had arisen from the web incident. Tore was a lost cause, but Bianca was an ally worth cultivating.
“Torodin bless you,” I whispered to her. She smiled and winked at me, then resumed ‘helping’ Tore. Looked like we wouldn’t have to worry about him any more.
Meanwhile, Val killed the panther she, Ester and Affe had been battling. I noticed that, while Ester was torn and bloody, Val didn’t have a scratch on her. Hmmm. I wonder if she’d be willing to teach Ester how to dodge? I love her dearly, but the giantess certainly is a drain on clerical resources.
Affe turned her attention to the creature in the webs, shooting it full of arrows. The beast growled and struggled. I was surprised the web was still holding. Meanwhile, Gore was still battling the remaining, unwebbed panther. As he stabbed it in the leg with his spear, Ester charged over, bellowing in. She slashed the beast’s back open with Hilt, revealing its internal organs. It wobbled on unsteady legs. Then Canliss shot some magic missiles. Two struck the one in the webs. Two more hit the wobbling one in front of Ester and Gore. It fell over dead. Both warriors glared at the six-fingered mage with a distinct lack of gratitude.
The webbed creature finally broke free and leaped at Val. This time she was less fortunate, and she got clawed in the side. She grimaced in pain. Affe shot it, and then the giant owl swooped in, killing the beast.
Behind us, we heard the clang of steel and more growling. It sounded like Gabriel had found his prey.
“Nikita, I’m going to go help your friend,” said Canliss. He ran off into the darkness. I ran after him. Poor Gabriel was going to need some healing, thanks to that idiot nobleman.
I caught up to them pretty quickly. I heard running and looked over my shoulder to see Val following me, with Gore not far behind. Gore ran quickly, for such a big man; sadly, he went crashing off in the wrong direction. Stupid barbarian.
Well, to make a long story short, we finished the remaining beast off quickly. And, best of all, I used one of my new spells. Using the shadow cast by the beast, I summoned a Shadow. It attacked, draining the beast’s strength. I wondered uneasily if Donar and Rachel might object to a Shadow, but under these circumstances I didn’t think it would hurt anything Tore wasn’t there, and Canliss and Val couldn’t possibly tell what it was in the poor lighting.
We rejoined the others. Ester had the drunken nobleman slung over her shoulder. She put him down when we returned and told her the last of the panthers was dead. I cast a little bit of healing on everyone; not too much, mind you. I’m a Torodinite, after all, not some useless Soltanite; I couldn’t be wasting my magic.
“Is it time for dessert?” Ester asked.
“Les’ go back for another round of sherry,” Tore said.
“Do you want the heads?” Ester asked. She started chopping them off.
Val and I exchanged a dismayed glance. Not only would we never get to the ‘business proposition’ if Tore kept drinking, but this evening was likely to drag on until dawn.
Well, I’d had about enough. I swayed towards Tore, smiling sweetly and giving him a generous view of my cleavage. “You know,” I said, “I have a spell that will make the sherry taste even better.”
“Really?” He smiled. “Tha’s great. Cast it on ever’body.”
I cast Nap on him. He fell to the ground, snoring. Canliss laughed. The others looked concerned until I explained what I’d done.
“We’ll have to wait an hour, but he’ll be sober then.”
We hauled the idiot into the study. There was nothing to read there, Gore and Canliss drank and the rest of us chatted while Tore slept. We cleaned up and changed, Canliss and Gore got thoroughly intoxicated, and the servants carted off the grisly trophies. We were all quite suspicious of where Tore had gotten the evil creatures, but I couldn’t worm any information out of the servants, not even our host’s full name. I cast ‘detect thoughts’ but all I picked up were inappropriate speculations about the women in our party.
“This evening was such a waste,” said Val. “Is he even going to remember us?”
When Tore finally awoke, he groaned and rubbed his eyes. Must have been one hell of a hangover. Canliss, the big suck-up, handed him a glass of port which he chugged as if it were water.
“Is there any more?”
“No,” we all said, even as Canliss handed him a second glass.
“I guess the evening is drawing to a close now,” I said, much more loudly than I needed to. I gloated inwardly when Tore cringed.
“The servants took care of your trophies,” Val told him.
“So, where did you get those… interesting creatures?” I asked, pretending idle curiosity.
He groaned. “Um… you know… I don’t feel so good. I think I need … something. Good day. Good night.”
He staggered off to his bed.
I sighed. “Well, Ester and I have a carriage. Would the rest of you like a ride back to town?”
With Gore riding up front with the driver, and me sitting on Ester’s shoulder in mouse form, we managed to get everyone inside. (Ester was quite surprised to find that I can speak in mouse form now. Torodin truly has been generous with His gifts.)
We were all starting to doze a bit as we headed back to town. Suddenly, we heard screams. There were bright lights in the distance that looked ominously like flames.
“Driver,” I commanded, “head towards that light.” Unfortunately, a mouse’s voice doesn’t carry well, and Ester had to repeat my command.
The driver was a good Isturian, and he responded to the threat of fire by whipping the horses into a gallop. We came thundering through an alley to find a massacre in front of us. Three constables and numerous town guards lay on the ground dead, their faces stained with soot. Four hellish creatures loomed over them, their bodies vaguely humanoid with muscular, ophidian tales. Their bodies appeared to be made entirely of flames, and their eyes shone with unholy light.
“Estereal’s Light!” cried a voice to our right. A constable lay pinned beneath the body of a blistered and lifeless horse. “Help us!”
“We’re on our way!” I squeaked. A constable in trouble! Now, here was an opportunity to make diplomatic strides on behalf of the temple. What an excellent opportunity. Donar and Rachel would be so pleased.

…to be continued…