PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 018

PBEM Orlantia: Into The Forest

Sefarlain set off into the woods with a strange mixture of happiness and fear in his heart. To be moving quickly and silently through such terrain lifted his spirits and took him back to his home and the forests of Tugath. Admittedly, the trees were nothing compared to some of the Mallorn forest's, and the voice of the forest spoke differently to him, but he was still happy to feel like part of the wood they were traveling through.

Another, more cautious side spoke to him of danger and unfamiliarity. He did not know his companion or his abilities - essential knowledge if he was to trust his life with that person. One factor was with the two strangers, however. The elves of the outer Alderami Islands were a little more reserved than their big island neighbors, and though Sef had enjoyed traveling with his new friends, he felt more immediately at ease with his elven companion. Perhaps it was a shared heritage - just a common sense of time, language, and custom. For whatever reasons, the two quickly slipped into an easy conversation and were soon talking about the mission ahead.

"I'd be keen to make good time to try and have plenty of light at Joad before we turn back," began the ranger. "I don't think we should be out here on our own when it's dark. Afyanna was right to be cautious. I alone have seen this thing up close and that is not something I wish to do again tonight."

Sefarlain kept his voice low as the two slipped quietly through the foliage, barely leaving a trace of where they had just been. The conversation was broken by snatched breaths while the two elves worked hard to make good time.

"If we are to scout together then you should know something of me," continued Sefarlain. "I am a Brother of The Wood; a Valantaúr of Tugath, and am bound to its Order now," he said, indicating Alonwë, his kin-sword. Wyn had not seen one so close before, but knew their value to the Order. It looked reassuring beside the ranger and he felt a little more at ease. The next words from Sefarlain, however, seemed to shatter that feeling of comfort.

"I travel at the bidding of Corellon Larethian."

Wyn's eyebrows rose noticeably. He had guessed that he was traveling with a Valantaúr easy enough, but one going with the blessing of a God was a more unusual prospect.

"Corellon, you say. How is that so?"

"Afyanna has his blessing and goes forth in His name," explained Sefarlain. "This is why we hunt this creature."

He went on to talk about his journey from Peric to the mainland, the harsh winter, and how he had met Afyanna, Cosher and the rest of the party. By the time he had finished, Wyn began to understand a little of what he had become involved with. And soon they would be at Joad.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Waiting Game

Where the sky had been bright scant minutes before, now shadows began to lengthen and darken as the clearing where the pavilion had been erected seemed to close in around them. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the tree line long before that, but daylight clung to the sky as if struggling for life.

Afyanna edged into the darkening line of trees at the perimeter of the clearing and waited. Her eyes and ears pored over the surroundings, attuned to any sign of their friends' return - or anything else that might be out there.

A slight breeze drifted lightly around the clearing, flitting Afyanna's hair about her shoulders, carrying nothing out of the ordinary that the kin-der could discern. Some insects began their nightly ritual of chirping and singing, birds flapped from branch to branch before finally settling down, and small rodents began to creep out from their burrows in search of food. All seemed as it should be in the nightly cycle of the woods as winter drew to a close.

Sef and Wyn had disappeared into the wooded countryside not more than an hour past, but already Afyanna was becoming worried. Afy knew that she had only an inkling of their true skill in scouting and stealth.

Afy's range of hearing, though not as defined as true elves, was still beyond that of a human's. Earlier in their casual traveling, the halfelf had rarely heard Sefarlain's footfalls. Granted, the noise of the rest of the party could frighten wild boars away, so it was possible the sounds of his passage were just lost among them. But she doubted that. There was no escaping the fact that he was simply quiet - even casually. And from what she had seen of their new arrival, Febriwyn, he shared this quality.

Even as she stood in the deepening shadows of the edge of the woods, the leather within her own armor gave tiny little creaks when she shifted or turned. Never noting it until now, Afyanna realized that even standing, she was noisier than they.

No, she wasn't worried about their skills.

*Then what is it?*

Yes, 'what is it' was the key, wasn't it? That simple question bounded all her worries.

What was she worried about? What was it that was threatening the area? What was it that had been attacking travelers? What was it that was directing this evil steed? All those questions wrapped themselves up within Afyanna's mind and twisted into one great worry. And beyond the immediate answer to each of them, were the necessary follow-ups. Was all of this related, or were they facing separate entities? If the nightmare was being directed, was it after them? Was the evil a real being or a - what - a force?

Afyanna had the answers to none of those questions. More than likely, the answer to each question would become clear only at the last moment, and at that point when it would be too late.

Preparation was paramount. That was why scouting Joad was so important. And for all those reasons, as well as their skills, Sefarlain and Febriwyn were out there - alone.

The holy warrior checked her gear for the umpteenth time. Her armor was tightly secured, even if it would never be as quiet as Sef's. Afyanna again eased her sword up in its scabbard a fraction of an inch to be sure it slid freely. If the two scouts were chased back into camp, she would be as ready as she could be.

Afyanna leaned against the thick tree, and waited.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Scouting Ahead.

As Febriwyn and Sefarlain approached Joad, both looked at each other, apparently thinking the same thing. It would be wiser not to come upon the town using the normal approaches, like the road or trail, and so after a time they both left the forest trail and headed into the fields along the empty, unmarred road.

Following footpaths, skirting hills, and crouching along deep ravines as they went, they soon found themselves amid great rows of trellises teaming with dead looking vines.

*Of course,* Sef thought.

Joad, or the parish of Wrath, was a vineyard, and this time of year nothing would be growing as of yet. All that remained in the vineyards were the trellises upon which the grapes were grown, the vines now dormant until spring's warmth called them back to life. Excellent. They provided more than adequate cover.

Creeping along the rows of sleeping vines, they came nearer and nearer the town until at last they had arrived within sight of some buildings. A farm? Yes, a farm - a vineyard. It looked deserted.

In the dimming light the elves could see no smoke issuing forth from any of the buildings. This was surely wrong if occupied. Someone had let the fires go out. Sef frowned as he surmised in the dying light despite making good time that it would be dark before they were finished scouting the town, which necessitated the return trip in darkness.

"No one's home," said Wyn. "Let's move further inward," he told Sef, knowing caution was not required nearly as much in the face of a deserted farm than a teaming one.

The pair pushed inward and soon past the farm, then another, then another, all apparently deserted, and all of them carefully skirted to save time. They wanted to see Joad itself, and not just some outlaying farms.

Eventually, twilight fully upon them, the duo came to what they felt must be the town's edge where the roads turned from dirt to cobblestones, and still they had not witnessed a single living soul.

At last, turning a corner along what obviously was a main road, they could see a figure that loomed up ahead. They pulled back instinctively, their hearts beating faster. Courage found their spirits and they looked once more to see what the person was doing, but were surprised to see it had not moved at all. Peering at it, a minute passed, then another, the looming figure remaining motionless.

"It's a statue," Wyn decided, whispering his conclusion to Sef. Sef had to agree. Yes, it was a statue. A statue? Maybe 'the' statue.

"Let's take a look," he offered. The other nodded and both slipped closer to the form.

In a central position of an open square amid large buildings all around - buildings too big for mere residential purposes - stood a statue of a woman in a long, flowing dress cut up the sides to mid-thigh for ease of movement. She looked as if she could run and jump and sprint, or even fight in such a dress, though in truth it was solid stone. The figure of the woman was leaning slightly on a stone pedestal, her draping dress flowing vertically downward, though she, herself, was slightly inclined. Her long, stone hair, too, flowed properly in accordance with gravity's wishes, exactly the way stone didn't have to. The artist had done a masterful job.

In the right hand of the figure a longsword was held by the pommel, arm slightly extended, the sword's tip planted at her feet in a relaxed, non-threatening stance. Her other arm rested upon the pedestal itself and supported her body's weight, which, since it was a dark marble, probably made her weigh three or four times what a real woman would weigh.

Her face smiled reassuringly out over the square. Resting upon the sword's pommel was stone bird that looked like a dove, gazing up at her countenance. If anything, the ease with which the bird sat there made the statue seem even friendlier and more relaxed.

"There's a plaque," whispered Sef. "The Holy Warrior Of Wrath," he said, reading it softly to Wyn.

Wyn looked around. There was still not a single trace of recent habitation that he could see.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: All Alone In Joad

The ranger stared up at the statue standing so serenely in the deserted town. She seemed to gaze into the distance, unworried by the stillness.

What had happened there? What had she seen? What tragedies had that warrior borne witness to yet was unable to mention? Sefarlain sighed quietly; he wasn't going to get any answers from the stone lady in the near future.

The deepening darkness worried him more. They would be caught out alone if they did not make very rapid progress back.

"Wyn," he whispered," I think we've seen enough for tonight. This place is deserted. We need to look around more carefully, but that can wait until tomorrow morning. Come on, let's get back to the others quickly."

There was so much to find out, so many avenues to explore, so many questions. There seemed little reason to Sefarlain to answer those right then, however. The purpose of the scouting trip had been achieved. No word or sign had come from Joad because no one was there.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Just A Little More.

Febriwyn's elven eyes passed slowly over the unused town roads - apparently devoid of any life but that of some small plants poking through the cobble stones - before wandering towards the nearest large building. Speaking distractedly, Febriwyn said, "We aren't seeing . . ."

Sefarlain really didn't wish to go, but curiosity mingled with stride after stride of deserted road and prevented any physical intervention.

"Wyn, it'd be better to wait for morning," said Sef, cut off by a gesture from Febriwyn as the other elven hand touched the edge of an old wooden door.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: A Closer Look.

Mixed feelings ran through Sefarlain's being as Febriwyn pushed on, despite Sef's plea, and attempted to open the large, wooden door. It opened easily, the old wood gently creaking as the door's weight pushed down on old metal hinges.

It was too dark to see clearly inside the building, but luckily both scouts were elves and their night vision was extraordinary compared to most human's - not quite on par compared to your average cat - which gathered about six times more light than human eyes - but sufficiently superior such that they could see twice as far at night, and gather almost twice as much detail than men could in comparable light.

As often was the case, both Pholar and Scepter were out, two moons hanging in the black, star studded sky, each silvery orb sporting a different phase and reflecting varying amounts of Gimarian's light that rained down and frosted the darkened landscape beneath them.

At the end of each scepter month, the phases of each moon were identical, though you couldn't actually see this since Pholar totally eclipsed Scepter and hid the outer moon behind it at those times. But it was not month's end then, and the phases were not matched, and the twin moons of Orlantia held different positions in the sky. Thus, together the moons gave off sufficient light for elves to see a considerable amount of detail.

Wyn could see a lantern hanging from the wall. He sniffed it. It was full of oil.

Sef remained outside where the light was better. Nervously waiting for Wyn, he busied himself with actions that came naturally to a ranger of the Valantaúr. Crouching down, he examined the earth and stones. Tracks? Yes, fresh tracks. Their own? No, the tracks of other men, and fresh. Today's, in fact, he wagered.

A light shown from inside the large building, but it quickly dimmed as Wyn partially closed the bullseye lantern's aperture, allowing only the barest amount of light to escape. With it, he could direct a dim cone of light inward, and he looked over the building's contents after pocketing his flint and steel.

Inside the building were several large wooden, iron-banded vats. They looked thoroughly used. Off to the side were some wagons filled with empty bushel baskets.

Within the context of Wrath, they surmised grapes would be processed there, their succulent, sweet juices stomped within the vats in one of the first steps in vinification following one of the last steps of viniculture. Everything was in disuse, however. It was not autumn, obviously, when the grapes would be picked and processed a scant hundred days after they awoke from winter's slumber, but it was currently winter's end, the building lying as dormant as the vines they had passed.

"There are fresh tracks out here," Sef whispered to Wyn. "I can barely detect them on the cobblestones, but, yes, recent activity, I'm sure." Wyn set the lantern down and walked outside to see in the same light Sef was using. Though his vision was as good, his training in such subtleties was not. He couldn't see what Sef apparently could. Maybe if the light was better?

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. People, or at least one person, came through here recently. I'd even say earlier today."

"Can you follow them?"

"Well," Sef admitted, "in this light, I consider myself lucky to have see this much on a cobblestone surface. Luckily the road is also pretty dirty. But . . . No, I don't think I can follow them in this light. But we know someone still lives in Joad, and that's more than we knew a moment before."

Wyn looked around. "No animals anywhere. Just a stone bird on a statue, and that doesn't count. Where is everyone?" he asked rhetorically.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Time Is Short

The shadows slowly deepened across the town square in which the Holy Warrior of Wrath stood, closing around her as she watched over the two elves.

"Wyn," hissed Sefarlain, "we have no time for this. We'll come back tomorrow. I know you want to see what's happened, but trust me! We do not want to stay here. I'm taking you back. Come on!"

Sefarlain sounded insistent. It was time to move, and he knew it. Perhaps Wyn did not, or chose not to listen before, but he paused at the wooden doorway and looked back at the ranger. He had not seen him like this before. What was that in his eyes? Fear? Determination? Or some sort of painful memory? Wyn was unsure.

It looked as if Wyn wanted to explore further.

"No, Wyn," said Sefarlain again. "We must leave. Now."

Not wishing to cross his new comrade - at least while so recently accepted within their ranks, Wyn acquiesced and blew out, then returned the lantern to the hook upon the wall. Closing the door, the pair started back towards camp.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Return Trek.

Not wishing to run the risk of running into anything new - of ANY particular disposition, good or bad - the scouts backtracked along their own trail.

Sef was fairly sure Wyn was upset, having gotten so close and then failing to take every opportunity to see all that they could see. With consummate skills of stealth, Wyn probably could have combed the entire village in safety, but Sef didn't wish to risk more than necessary, and felt certain they would find out as much, if not more, come the morn, when the party's full compliment would be at their disposal. It was a command decision.

As they passed the farms and plodded along the dormant vines, Sef contemplated his authority over Wyn - whether or not he had any, for example.

The Valantaúr were the elite rangers of the Marching Alderami - officers, as it were, amongst the common elven foot soldier, all formidable through long traditions of practice with sword and bow. Nearly all elves, without exception, played with bow and sword to such a degree that it could be said all elves were highly proficient with those weapons.

But the Valantaúr were trained in more than weapons and skills of the land; they were challenged to lead and supervise those under their charge.

Yet Wyn owed Sef no obedience. They were quite outside any command structure of the Marching Alderami or the Valantaúr. Quietly, he wondered what Wyn thought, but decided not to ask him.

Through common agreement - before Wyn, before Alana, even before Bebe and Jahar - they had unanimously agreed that this was Afyanna's quest, and hers was the final authority during this quest. But she was not there, and had not made clear to Wyn he was to obey Sef. Then again, maybe that was not an oversight on her part. Perhaps Sef assumed too much.

Perhaps the authority Sef carried on behalf of Corellon Larethian, such as it was, would be sufficient. Most elves paid deference to His name. Most, though not all. Sef wondered what religious beliefs Wyn held, but again decided not to ask. This was not the time for such questions.

The scouts emerged from the woods, far enough from Joad to take to the road again. They hurried onward toward camp.

Making good time, the pair returned in silence to find Afyanna on the grove's perimeter standing watch. All seemed well, and it was barely past midnight.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Repent At Leisure

It was all so much easier in Tugath. Give an order, see it done, take an order, do it - everyone with a place and purpose. Sefarlain was beginning to realize that life outside the rigid confines of the military was quite a bit more complex than that, and these thoughts remained with him as the two scouts arrived back in camp.

The two elves had not really spoken as they returned. The pace they set and the confines of traveling silently did not really allow for that. Despite these reasons, Sefarlain felt uneasy about the way he had behaved and even more uncomfortable about addressing it.

'You must slow down and consider your actions. Think how you should act. Consider. THEN act,' the familiar words from old rangers echoed in his mind, but were always slow to sink in for an impetuous young Valantaúr candidate. Perhaps he was reaping his just rewards.

Their arrival back in camp was greeted with a relieved smile from Afyanna. She stood up and walked over to them, the sound of her armor piercing the night as she approached. Both the elves winced slightly at this, which was not lost on the holy warrior.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're back in one piece. Some of us don't have the benefit of quieter armor though, which is why I sent you two."

She paused and looked carefully at them. A concerned look passed across her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," began Wyn.

"Nothing," said Sef. "We're both just a bit shaken. There's no one in Joad. Not a soul. Some man-made tracks, maybe, and they look fresh, but no sign of anyone. We don't know if they're hiding or have fled, but I didn't want to hang around. I should be able to track them in the morning."

He looked towards Wyn, who just sighed slightly and avoided his gaze.

"We found your namesake by the way. The statue is in the square," began Wyn. "Not a good likeness, I'm afraid."

"Joad should hopefully be safe to approach in the morning then," said Afyanna. "We'll follow your route come dawn. Well done. Now get some rest; tomorrow could be a long day."

Sef moved back towards the pavilion and sat quietly in the corner, his sword resting across his lap. There was an unresolved issue still disturbing him, but he couldn't see an easy way around it. Perhaps things would seem different in the morning. Then again, perhaps not.

He slipped into his reverie pursued by such thoughts.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Worried Brother.

Febriwyn paced a moment outside the tent, considering his next action. His companion had seemed quite distraught at his desires, though he truly had meant to go no further than a peak within, but the change in tone . . . a slight inflection, most likely beyond the selective hearing of humans, had entered it. Then there was the change in his eyes. Years of hunting humans had taught him when they were more alert, or less, as might be the case when they were deep in thought, and thoughts seemed to trouble his brother.

Logic would have found the disappearances at Joad the likely culprit behind such thoughts; an entire town seemingly deserted if not for the tracks left while the sun still shone? How could that not trouble one? Still, Febriwyn did not always obey or believe in his reasoning, for he had found them usually wrong with the humans. More likely it was something Febriwyn had done. Perhaps he had ignored some tradition of his high elven brother whilst on the trek. Either way, such things were usually best dealt with soon, before anger turned truly good deeds to other ends.

Having thus wasted fifteen minutes since the break with Afyanna, Febriwyn moved nearer the spot he thought Sefarlain had retreated to and softly called his name.

"Sefarlain?" he whispered.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Clearing The Air

"Sefarlain?"

His eyes opened. In fact, they had not really shut, but the elf felt his mind awaken from its reverie as his name was called again.

His curiosity pricked, he moved to the door of the pavilion and slipped outside into the cold air. The moons lit the ground with a soft white light, and from this the figure of Wyn was clearly visible to Sef's elven sight. He spoke to the figure in their native tongue.

<Elvish>"Wyn . . . you called me?"</Elvish>

The newcomer to the group nodded and began to talk about his concerns.

<Elvish>"I noticed you seemed quiet on the return journey, Sefarlain. I hope I have not caused this, but I wanted to make sure there was nothing you wanted to discuss tonight. Have I offended you in some way?"</Elvish>

The ranger felt a wave of relief pass over him and he smiled at his companion. Perhaps he had not caused as much offense as he had feared. This was still an opportunity to explain his actions and the ranger took it with open arms.

<Elvish>"No, Wyn. On the contrary, it was I who feared I had offended you. I can sometimes be a bit forthright in my speech. We have not traveled together before and I thought you might have misinterpreted what I said. You have my apologies if I sounded like I was giving orders; perhaps I'm being extremely cautious, but something in Joad made me very uneasy."</Elvish>

Wyn nodded in agreement. Both the elves had witnessed the eerie quietness and expectation in the air. A village with no signs of life could be a disturbing experience.

<Elvish>"Well, there is no offense taken, Sefarlain. I just wanted to make sure we had completed the reason for our journey. It was late after all, and at least we know some buildings are empty too."</Elvish>

*Good point,* thought Sef. *Maybe I was too hasty.* He vowed to learn the lessons from that night for the morning.

<Elvish>"Good. In that case, I will bid you goodnight. If you wish, you are more than welcome in the pavilion. It makes a pleasant change from the floor of a cave, I can tell you."</Elvish>

<Elvish>"No, I think I will remain outside, but thank you. Until the morning."</Elvish>

And with that, the camp became silent once more as the two returned to their rest.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Bedding Down

The chirpers sounded particularly cheerful to the young sylvan slinking through familiar terrain. The talk with Sefarlain, though short, had seemed to relieve the other of some great burden.

Though it had made some sense when first heard, the words of his master returned to him with new meaning, 'Nothing grieved a soul of good conscience more than thinking they had done wrong to another.'

The slightest crack marred the silent movement to which Febriwyn had grown accustomed.

*Damn dry twigs,* he silently cursed to himself.

Located so near great bodies of water, the Long Woods was often damp, though only sufficiently so that the trees were supple and fast growing. Unfortunately, it also left the elven guardian a bit behind when in drier woods where even slight pressure was sufficient to break some twigs - as Febriwyn had just shown. The departure of the sun and the forest's canopy further bereaved the sylvan of completely silent motion.

Leaving his contemplation behind, Febriwyn began off again, slower and more careful in his travels to insure no more accidents occurred. The last decade had found his ability to sprint through bramble without a sound waning, requiring exercises of a few hours of moving through the woods, completely blind, each night to retrain the old reflexes, though his companion this night had still remained far better practiced, thought Febriwyn with an inward sigh.

The soft chorus of nocturnal insects all about covered whatever sound Febriwyn's jump may have made, though a few pieces of bark could be heard moments later hitting the ground. The trees were far, far drier than he was used to. Maybe it was just the harsh winter.

Moving to a comfortable and secure position, Febriwyn turned his head and looked toward the pavilion of his companions, wondering what they might be discussing at that late hour.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Sorcerer's Dream.

Wyn may have wondered, but surprisingly little was being said upon the elves' return from Joad. Valin and Tyrulf were already sleeping in anticipation of their morning watch. The others were praying, meditating, or just relaxing after the day's journey that had begun with the burial of one of their own. It was far too soon for jocularity of any kind, and the fact Jahar had died a single day ago was still a cold, bitter reality gnawing at them all, while the somber atmosphere hinted at the task that lay ahead, all alert minds preoccupied with their own thoughts of the challenge before them.

Brambles seemed alert, despite the gnomish bundle breathing softly against her side. No doubt the she-wolf was still cautious and familiarizing herself with the new smells of the strangers. Bebe, with wolfish pillow, seemed at ease. Alana was sleeping too, though worry over Lucian accompanied her to the land of dreams.

Afyanna and Cosher had first watch, Mystir and Bebe would take the second, while Valin and Tyrulf were to have the last. Alana would rise an hour before sunup and begin breakfast. That, they all understood, would be the time for discussion.

Reverie upon reverie, sleep amid restless sleep, first one watch and then another, the night past without incident. Well, nearly so.

It wasn't from without, however, this incident, but from within, deeply seated within Tyrulf's subconscious.

Phantom horses galloped along a misty gray, fog-like plane, prancing about, playing with one another; they seemed happy. All was well. But then a golden rift appeared to crack the fog, and light shone through, beaconing, calling to the ghostly apparition of the nearest equine soul.

<Archaic>As your father's have, and their father's before them, throughout all of time since from heaven's hands you sprang, hear this summons.</Archaic>

The nearest horse paid heed and looked toward the ancient duty of his sires.

<Archaic>Answer the call, come forth, come forth young one, COME FORTH!</Archaic>

With that, the shimmering spirit of the horse galloped into the light and vanished.

Tyrulf woke with a start. Valin was gently shaking him.

"Come forth already, it's time to stand our watch," he said, and then quietly slipped outside the tent.

The dwarf roused himself and made ready, pondering his dream while he did so. What was it? The archaic words seemed to fade and become blurred, like the details of many dreams upon awakening. But this was no ordinary dream. It was a . . . a . . . he didn't know what to call it. An insight, perhaps? He could feel the Draconic tongue's words fading like an echo against his blood, hot from the resonance they sang within his soul. Draconic blood, Archaic, the stuff of magic, the very essence of sorcery. Yes, he could do that, or maybe could. He could summon a horse. Couldn't he? Maybe with practice, he could. Maybe. The words, the ancient words held the power, and he had heard them. Could he recall them exactly?

*It's begun again,* he thought to himself. *Possible avenues, different pathways, a choice or more than a few might happen these next few nights,* he knew.

Sorcerers might see several potential abilities within their blood. Several paths might be offered, but he could not go down them all. He would have to choose of those before him within his dreamscape. Those he explored he might later command, but those he ignored he may never know, or at least, not know right away.

The dwarf knew all this because it had happen once before, when younger and weaker, back when the dreams had first led him to his sorcerer's cantrips. But this one, the next ones, would be stronger than the last ones. He could feel the power. He would have to pay particularly close attention to his dreams these next few weeks.

Exiting the pavilion, the dwarf lamented how current events might interfere with his new discoveries. But first things first, his training told him. There would be no discoveries at all to explore if he were dead.

Alana rose an hour later and began to make the breakfast meal, and by the time the first rays stretched forth from yonder's dark horizon, it was ready.

"Get up, everyone!" she firmly told her companions, banging a wooden utensil against the tent's main pole. "It's going to be an interesting day," she proclaimed.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: The Next Morning

Febriwyn had been up for at least an hour; resting on the length of wood extending from an old tree, watching the watch, and contemplating the empty town of Joad.

He hadn't been to many places outside the pseudo-village within the Long Wood, although there was that town inside Erickland, and the town he stumbled upon where he met his current companions, but the other elf did seem particularly disturbed by the missing inhabitants of Joad.

Why one would fear the missing humans was still a bit of a curiosity for Febriwyn, his life had always been about ensuring the humans staid missing from the Long Woods. In fact, why the other would be more comforted by the presence of such humans was another question. There had been humans, and now there were not. Maybe they just decided to move as Febriwyn had so often. Deep down he was aware most humans were not so very different from elves, but a century of fighting the worse of them tended to form a harsh outer shell.

Realizing there would be little use in continuing to think without extra information, and upon hearing his new companion banging a spoon, Febriwyn dropped quietly to the ground and slowly began his way back toward the pavilion.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: An Interesting Day.

Alana had had a restless night. On her apparently casual inquiries after Lucian, both Sef and Wyn had answered that they hadn't seen the cat. She hadn't pressed the matter because she didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all to herself, how uneasy she felt because of his continued absence. After all he hadn't been gone all that long. Hardly any time at all. It was just that the unexpected and brutal deaths of people near her had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

The news their two scouts had brought was disturbing enough on its own. Joad empty. There must have been some pretty compelling reasons for that to happen.

She said as much to the others. She could imagine some people deciding to leave when things were getting difficult, but not all of them at the same time.

Alana tried to picture the people in her own hometown of Barlo one day deciding they would abandon everything and leave. It just would never happen. And there were always those who simply were rooted too deep in their own little piece of the world to be driven away from it for any reason.

Take old Assle. If it weren't for the occasional help of his neighbors, he would surely have starved to death a long time ago. His daughter had offered him time and again to come live with her. His life would no doubt have been much more comfortable living with her. But that would mean he'd have to give up his land, and the old man simply refused to do that. No matter how much his daughter pleaded with him, nothing could sway him from that decision.

No, the empty town did nothing to reassure Alana. The notion was simply too creepy.

She also had been rather disappointed when Sefarlain said the statue did not resemble Afyanna at all. Thinking back, no one had ever said it did, but in her imagination the statue of the Holy Warrior of Wrath had been an exact likeness of Afyanna. She even half suspected that once they reached Joad, and Afyanna touched the statue, all their questions would be answered.

Deep down, Alana still hadn't entirely given up on the idea because the thought that they would reach Joad today brought a tickle of excitement, even with all her worries and misgiving over the town at its lack of inhabitants. So she energetically roused the others. The sooner they'd eaten breakfast, the sooner they would be on their way.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Middle Watch

Mystir stared bleary eyed at the pavilion's canvas roof, trying to focus his disobedient eyes, while every fiber of his being wished he could stay in his bedroll for a few more hours.

*Ugh, the middle watch,* he complained to himself, remembering last night and how much he hated standing the middle watch. *How did I get stuck on the middle watch?* he asked himself. *I'm definitely going to have to have this watch schedule reevaluated.*

Sitting up, he reached for his spellbook and placed it back into his bag in anticipation of breaking camp after breakfast.

Earlier that night, when awakened from his all too short nap to take the middle watch, he had carefully pored over his most prized possession. He rubbed his eyes again in the morning light, wiping away the crusty traces as he recalled browsing through the entire tome and tracing the words of each spell as he went. Though he had decided not to alter his allotments of spells, Mystir always made certain to go through his spellbook at least once a day - just in case.

Standing, he placed his books back into the bag and quickly rolled his blanket before carrying them both out of the tent.

*I'll have to talk to Afyanna about the watch later in the day, but not now,* he decided, unwilling to sound as though he was complaining. It was a real concern to him. Without enough uninterrupted rest, he would be practically useless - magically speaking.

He hadn't used any spells the day before, the plan of stopping early kept him from using his Mount spell. Now he began to wonder if he'd ride into Joad, or if he'd walk with the rest of them.

- Kevin (Mystir) - JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: The Challenge Ahead

Afyanna ate quickly, then put her bowl down and stood up to address the seated group.

"Right, let's get this camp moving. Once we're cleared up, I don't want any trace of us left. We'll make some plans once we're finished and I want to get going soon, so come on," the holy warrior told them.

Sef looked longingly at his breakfast. The steam rose temptingly from the bacon and biscuits that Alana had cooked as a treat for them all that morning. It was a nice change from travel rations. To be fair, Alana was clearly a very good cook, so he did not seem the only one to reluctantly finish quickly, but now that they were so close to Joad, there was no time for relaxation. That was small comfort sometimes, though.

Despite the rushed breakfast, the group was becoming more practiced at packing camp quickly, and each one diligently attended to his or her tasks. Swords were brought out, examined, and sheathed again. Arrows were checked and stowed. Components for spells were rechecked one last time. All this was done in a somber mood. Within half an hour, the pavilion had gone and Bebe busied herself trying to hide the evidence so many bodies made when sleeping in the grove.

"Good. That's excellent, everyone. Are we all here?" started Afy. "Right. Then we'll set off in about half an hour, but first I wanted Sef and Wyn to run through last night for those who missed anything."

The two scouts explained the events of the night before to a quiet audience. Expectation, fear, and excitement ran in equal measure between the people listening. The empty village was perhaps not the outcome they were expecting.

"So, basically you didn't see anything?" asked Tyrulf, in a somewhat disappointed tone.

"Yes. Well no, not exactly. The footprints, you see, suggest someone has been through there. Who knows who they belonged to, but it may not have been the villagers."

Sefarlain's comments raised the terrible question of the fate of an entire village, whereas before they had been concerned with only the fate of a few people. A few began to realize just what was at stake now they were so close to Joad. Lives, so many lives, were at stake now; not just themselves or their friends.

*Perhaps finally we'll all be put to the test. Will we be found wanting?* thought Sef to himself. *Is that the real question, though? Is that what I worry about? Or is it that 'I' will be found wanting?*

Sefarlain knew to whom that last question was addressed. His father had always been the sternest critic of his son, be it through love or determination for his son to succeed. And succeed he had. Sef had been accepted into the Valantaúr apprenticeship - no small feat for any elf, and now had been accepted into the Order after ten long years. But would that be enough for his father? Somehow, Sef doubted that following in his father's steps would ever really be enough for such a man. Was that why he had run away? Was that what he sought?

Who really knew what drove men to acts of bravery? But the elf knew that his new friends needed him, and so did the people of Joad. Perhaps that was enough for now.

He tightened his belt and listened as the plans for the final journey to Joad were laid out.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: We Know So Little.

Febriwyn looked over the others in his new group, a smile flicking briefly across his lips before he tightened his cloak about himself. The others still worried him; even one of his brethren did not think the same as he.

Clearing his voice to get the attention of the others, Febriwyn said, "The building I looked in yesterday was merely a winery. That does not mean no one is there or nearby, just no one was obvious within the building. Personally, I don't think we looked around enough to find if the town is safe for everyone to enter. We know now less than we did before Sef and I visited the town yesterday. Perhaps it would be best that we look around a bit more before risking a large group-venture into the city? Just remember, if something did attack the town, we have no guarantee that it isn't still there. Nor do we know, for certain, that no one else is there."

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: The Morning's Planning

Afyanna awoke with a start to the banging of a spoon against the tent's main pole; Alana was rousing them to breakfast.

The holy warrior had slept heavier than she had expected, owing mostly to the fact that she had spent the first several hours of the night awaiting the return of Sef and Wyn. Once they were back safely and reported no imminent danger, she had removed her heavy armor and lain down for the night.

Afyanna rose from her place on the ground and then stretched her arms and back, working the tiny aches and bruises from the night's rest out as best she could. No bedroll on a patch of ground, ever, would replace the comfort of even a mediocre bed, and her muscles always reminded her of it in the morning.

Once awake, Afy washed her face with cold water to clear her head, then brushed the worst of the tangles from her hair. She then rolled up her bedroll and stowed the rest of her gear, but saved donning her armor until before they left. Even though years of use had broken it in well, it was, by nature, not very comfortable, so any time she could put off wearing it was a luxury.

Awake and presentable, the holy warrior joined the rest of the party for breakfast.

"This is quite good, Alana," Afy told their cook. Alana most likely didn't need words to see that Afy enjoyed the meal, as fast as she ate it up.

When all were present and seemed alert, Afyanna began to speak.

"I must say that when I heard that Joad was deserted that I was relieved - at first." She hesitated to allow the gravity of the implication to set in.

"But after giving it a bit more thought, being deserted in fact may be more worrisome."

"We did see signs of someone present," Sefarlain added. "And it was recent."

"That is odd," Afy agreed. "I wonder if whomever you saw is connected with the disappearance of the people? At the very least," she continued past their unknowing shrugs, "we now know why no word of trouble has reached Hooktar."

"True," Mystir agreed.

"Something I don't understand," Wyn interjected, "is that what little we saw didn't seem to be left in a rush."

Bebe chimed in, "I was wondering about that, also." Everyone looked to the gnome. "I mean, if people were disappearing a little at a time, with a town the size of Joad you'd think 'somebody' would have gotten the word out."

"That's a very good point," Afyanna admitted. "I hadn't considered that."

"What if, supposin', they aren't all gone?" Cosher pondered aloud. "What if a few o' them are in hidin'?"

Afyanna thought about that for a minute. "Hmmm, that would seem to be one answer that fits what little we know." She paused, putting things together in her head. "Hmm, if they realized that people were disappearing, and perhaps had an idea 'why,' then maybe they are holed up someplace else. A cave maybe? A few might sneak into town now and again - leaving the traces you saw, Sef."

"That would be one explanation," Sefarlain offered. "But . . ."

"I know, " the halfelf agreed, "it's not very likely. From what we've seen, it's more likely that the people are gone."

Tyrulf broke his silence to add to the discussion. "I wonder if whatever is causing this needs people. Either as sacrifice, labor, or . . . food." Each of them flinched to varying degrees, but Tyrulf continued unfazed. "Perhaps the reason the disappearances have spread beyond Wrath is specifically because the towns at its center, Joad for one, are empty. It has to expand to get more people."

"Oh dear, please don't let that be the case," Alana said, her words echoing all of their thoughts.

"But that doesn't explain the outright killings," added Valin.

"True," agreed Tyrulf, "but it may be one part of an explanation.

"Supposing they are all dead," Afyanna said. "That is still a lot of bodies to dispose of. Wouldn't you need a cave, or at the very least a large grave?" Her face fell as she took the next step. "Unless it is as Tyrulf proposed."

Bebe saw a correlation. "However, that is two explanations that need a cave or hiding place."

Afyanna agreed with the gnome. "You're right. Perhaps today we should investigate Joad further, and then expand our search to check for nearby caves."

No immediate objections were raised, but each of the party still seemed to be deep in thought.

"If we do find a cave of some sort," Afy went on, "then either we will find survivors who can tell us what is going on, or we will find what is behind this."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Something More?

The speculation over Joad and the nightmare had nearly died down. Yet something pulled at Mystir's mind. "Something just doesn't add up," he said.

Afyanna looked over to the halfelf. "What doesn't?"

"I'm not sure." The wizard replied. "Think back to what we know of the victims." Mystir paused a moment. He had not encountered any signs of the creature outside the party, as some of the others had. "We have cases where people seem to have disappeared, and cases where people are outright killed."

"Continue," the holy warrior said.

"It's just," he paused again. "I don't see it. I don't see how a nightmare would be able to make people disappear. Kill them, yes. We have seen how that one works. But I don't understand how the entire town would disappear. No bodies, no burned structures."

Wyn added, "That's why we need to check Joad out a little more thoroughly."

"Yes, I agree. But to my knowledge a nightmare has no way to control or manipulate people. If it were herding people, then someone would have escaped and we would have heard something. I was reluctant at first," Mystir admitted, "but now I think there is more than just the nightmare. It's as if one entity is claiming living victims, and using the nightmare to instill fear in the surrounding areas, and also to spread the idea that those missing were killed by it."

"Interesting idea," pondered Tyrulf.

"If all of the people missing were in fact killed, then there would be more signs like the few we have found." He paused a moment longer. "I don't know, but maybe the other victims just haven't been found." Mystir shook his head. "I just don't know."

"Well," Sef added, "by the end of the day, we should know more."

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Wizard Or Cleric, Oh My

"I certainly hope that some light will be shed on the subject," agreed Tyrulf. "Listening to the points that everyone is making brings me to believe that there probably is someone behind this whole thing."

The rest of the group looked at Tyrulf with a variety of expressions ranging from interest to annoyance. Some of them seemed to be annoyed at the dwarf's reiteration of the conversation. Tyrulf looked at them all and sighed. Perhaps one day they will give him the benefit of the doubt before the annoyed looks appear on their faces so fast.

"I realize that basically many of you have been saying the same thing. It just occurred to me that it is likely the person or persons controlling such a beast would be either a wizard or cleric of some sort. In my studies I have heard that there is both arcane and divine magic capable of calling forth such a beast. Bear in mind that such a person would have to have a fair amount of knowledge and skill to be able to accomplish such a feat," explained Tyrulf.

"One other thing I would like to address," Tyrulf said, with a slightly red face before continuing. "Earlier in our travels, specifically at Alana's friends' cabin, I cast a Detect Magic spell which got everyone a little freaked out." He paused for a minute to let everyone remember before continuing while looking down since he was a little embarrassed.

"I would like to know how to deal with such things in the future. I do not want to cast a spell only to find one of you have run me through, reacting before you realize it's me. Also, when we get into a fray of some sort, if the spell casters have to take the time to warn everybody before casting a spell, it will take time and warn our enemy of the impending spell. I am not sure how you want to address this problem, but I wanted to figure it out before spellcasting becomes necessary."

Tyrulf looked up after his little speech. *Well, it seems that no one else had really thought of this, at least.* The rest of the group seemed to look at each other, a little bit confused, giving credence to Tyrulf's thought.

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Not To Worry

Afyanna chuckled at that particular memory from the Lovejoys' cabin. It was just about the only thing that had occurred there that was amusing.

"You certainly did startle me with that one, Tyrulf," Afy admitted with a smile.

Tyrulf's reddened face brightened a bit at her humor.

"I think the difference there, though," she continued, "is that none of us were expecting you to cast anything." Afy looked to those gathered around, each seemed to be enjoying the memory.

"The lot of us were looking over a pretty somber scene, and suddenly magic seemed to start flying. I have to admit, it . . . put me on the defensive," she allowed.

Cosher, for one, nodded in agreement. "Aye, it did at that!"

Afyanna continued, "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Tyrulf. If . . . when, we get into combat, things will be different. We 'expect' you to be casting then."

Tyrulf nodded in understanding.

"I think it is only when we are not fighting, and with the grace of The Protector of the Elves that will be most often, that you might want to let us know when you are casting."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Oh, There's An Idea.

"What happened?" Alana asked, puzzled by Tyrulf's comment regarding spellcasting. She had met the group after that incident, so she didn't exactly know to what Tyrulf and Afyanna were referring. Valin gave her a brief account of the events. That silenced Alana for a moment.

*Could have happened to me,* she thought. *Another thing to get used to, actually sharing your plans with others,* she decided.

"Just so you all know," Alana announced, "I have prepared a Create Water spell. When we meet up with the nightmare I plan on soaking it thoroughly. Might not kill it, but at the very least it should act as a good diversion. And just maybe it will reduce its flame a little so it can be hurt more easily. I don't want to surprise anyone when I do this, so unless someone has strong arguments against doing such a thing . . . " she trailed off.

Alana had carefully selected that spell on the theory that being a creature of fire, the nightmare might be hurt that way. Normally she would have shared her thoughts with Lucian, not that she got any intelligible response from the cat, but it was a pleasant way to order her thoughts and detect any flaws in her reasoning. This occurred to her, now that she had other people around who might be interested in her theories.

Thoughts of the cat started her worrying again, so she determinedly diverted her attention away from Lucian. She did not totally succeed. Her eyes rested on Bebe.

"You might want to pay extra attention to Brambles," Alana said. "If something is amiss, she might give us an early warning. Animals are often more sensitive to these things than we are. But I'm sure you already know this," she ended her lecture a bit lamely.

*Stupid thing to say; of course she already knows that.*

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Onward to Joad

Afyanna cleaned off the dishes and utensils she had used in a bucket of water set aside for just that purpose. That done, the halfelf moved about the camp, just watching the party as they continued to bond.

Idle chatter accompanied the last of their breakfast, most refusing to let go of the moment to return to their trek into the unknown.

Truly good meals were a luxury on the adventuring trail. Most who undertook the dangerous profession were used to eating rations, or foraging for various things to eat along the way. A few were skillful enough to trap real game that would satisfy more than their basic needs. But few parties were lucky enough to have someone who could actually cook - who knew just what to add to change the flavor just so. Thankfully, this was such a party.

Alana's efforts thus far had been amazing. Though it was not possible to rival a good inn for a hearty meal, Alana had outdone herself with what she had available. Afyanna had watched her cook a few times and still she had no idea how the druid had done it.

When asked, Alana divulged some of the more generic, and to her probably the more obvious, tricks of her craft. Still, a good cook had to keep her secrets lest she be outshone at some point, so Alana didn't reveal all. In truth, the secret was more in the spices than anything, and Alana revealed little on that subject. Even knowing 'what' was added didn't tell you everything. You had to know how much, and when, and sometimes even how. Afy smiled inwardly as she watched Alana deflect a new barrage of pointed questions regarding the morning's treat.

As a military person, Afyanna had never taken the time to learn such things. Instead, she had always eaten what she was given or went hungry. Taste was an option. Well, tasting good was an option, at any rate. Something with good taste was a rarity. Her own experiments at her small cabin had ended up with the local wildlife getting a free meal. It didn't take many dumped bowls for Afy to get the point - she just was not a cook. So she returned to what she knew. Easy food, edible, and fast.

The kin-der moved away from where Alana and her would-be students sat out toward the edge of the camp. Near where Bopper was tied up, she spied Sefarlain, Bebe, and Wyn sitting together under a large tree. Their plates were lying next to them in the grass - picked clean of course. As Afy moved closer, she caught Wyn's eye that nodded to her from the few feet separating them. Moving closer, she had to shake her head at what she heard.

Bebe peppered Sef with questions regarding his tracking skills. How it was done, what he looked for, what he avoided. Sefarlain, for his part, explained in so much detail that Afy could barely stand it. The holy warrior heard his words, but they made little sense to her. Bebe, on the other hand, seemed to not only understand, but his responses inspired further questions. From what Afy could tell, most of his skills were based on experience and not hard knowledge. But what did she know?

Wyn seemed to offer little to the conversation. When asked, he sometimes nodded, or offered a small word of agreement to what Sef said, but rarely did he seem to contribute much himself.

*Oh well,* Afyanna thought, *some people just take more time to open up than others.*

The holy warrior continued past the tracking classroom on to where she saw Cosher standing. The sea dwarf seemed to be particularly enthralled by the sky. Afy stopped and looked up as well. The air was quite still this morning and was slightly cooler than the day before. Looking across to the other side of the clearing, the evergreen treetops were unusually contrasted against the dull, dark clouds.

*Odd. I hadn't noticed a change in weather.*

On her approach, he turned to her and smiled. "Mornin' te ya."

"That heading this way?" she gestured toward the storm clouds.

"I'm not sure as yet," he replied abashed. "I'm usually much better with the weather, bein' at sea and all." He looked back toward the clouds. "But this has me a bit off. Maybe I'm just not used te the patterns on land." He smiled his broad grin.

Even her normally sour morning attitude couldn't stand up to his good nature and soon she found herself smiling as well. "Well, if it is about to rain, that's even more reason to get going."

"Aye, it's time I guess."

They walked toward the center of the camp where most had already completed packing up. It seemed as if each knew instinctively that the time for rest was over and that it was time to move.

"All right, let's get going," she announced, making it official.

- Rick (Afyanna)