PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 034

PBEM Orlantia: A Few More Pieces.

"Corbin didn't say much - I mean, past tricking me. But I can guess. Several of the bottles from 50 years ago had just started to be shipped out last year. Horton planned to raise money and hire the guards Joad will need to protect their wealth, but first they had to sell some wine. It is unfortunate that one such as Corbin happened upon one of the first bottles sold. His nature was such that exceptional wine, having it, owning it, being able to offer it or sacrifice it, meant the world to him. He'd go to great lengths to obtain it. And, one can guess, a few anomalies later, and his lifetime of adventuring got the better of him. He probably took it upon himself to solve those little mysteries and obtain such a great prize. I'm not sure what he might have done had he not had his accident. Would he have robbed the people of Joad? Maybe. But it's more likely he would have blackmailed them into giving him a lot of free wine for years to come just to keep his mouth shut. As you have probably surmised, if the word of Joad's wealth gets out before they are ready to defend it, disaster may follow. And perhaps worse, such unwanted attention on Joad's wine runs the risk of inviting an equal amount of unwanted attention on an undefended temple. No, for two or three years yet, if everything goes according to Horton's plan, these things must remain a secret from the general public. And, I'm sorry to say," she said, looking at Cosher, "that any bardic tale or song about your exploits here before that time might prove ruinous. Write them if you must, but sit on them for a few years. That's my advice. You must do what you feel is right, of course. I can only share my fears."

There was silence for a moment as if each party member was considering whether or not they could keep a secret that long.

"We should tell absolutely no one?" Mystir asked.

"Well, no one you do not trust implicitly, at any rate. Besides, what's your rush? A few years will go by quicker than you can possibly imagine."

He silently wondered about how a spirit who had been essentially imprisoned for the last two and half centuries felt about time. Or if her hard won appreciation of it was particularly relevant to him. But he did recall his master often told him he needed to develop greater patience, so maybe she was right.

"Now," Joree went on, "unless you have some morbid curiosity, I wouldn't bother spending too much time in the catacombs. Look around if you must. Certainly have a look around while Afyanna speaks the rites of passage over my remains once I'm gone; that would be a fine time to have a quick look around, but honestly, I don't think you'll find much of interest down there. I never did. The close tunnels, the twisting passages, the darkness. It's a great place for the dead to sleep, maybe, but not a great place to live."

Sef knew he agreed with her, since even on the walk through the underground passages that led to the catacombs, slight feelings of claustrophobia had begun to unnerve him a bit. But then he had been more concerned about where the nightmare might have been hiding at the time, so it was understandable he had been a bit jumpy.

"Where was the nightmare, by the way? I mean, where did it normally hang out?" Sef asked.

"Oh, it moved around, and spent a great deal of time on the ethereal and astral planes near the soul field, which was present on all those planes. There were a few times, in fact, when you were right on top of one another and never knew it," she chuckled.

Alana shivered at the thought. Archaic matters like exterplanar travel were quite unnatural to her mind, and everything that nightmare did creeped her out a little. Having shared the same space and time with that thing, if not the same dimension, made her feel dirty. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than a hot bath.

"I'm not sure what else I might tell you, but you're welcome to ask more questions, if you have any. Anyone?"

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Our Thanks.

Tyrulf listened intently to the group's questions as well as Joree's answers. *I see that we all seem to have the same questions. We are truly become a group,* Ty thought approvingly.

After everyone seemed to be done, Tyrulf spoke up. "Well met Joree. I am glad that you may now find rest after all these years. I would also like to thank you for your answers. There were many questions that we would have spent a lot of time trying to answer had you not been here - perhaps never finding any answers and wasting our time."

Turning to Afyanna, Tyrulf looked at her and asked, "Is there time to bring the dagger back to Bebe and Brambles to heal the she wolf and have them return before Joree's time is up? It would be a shame if Bebe missed the opportunity to talk to her, as I am sure she would want to. Bebe was as much a part of this as any other. It would be good to include her here if at all possible."

"Yes, there are hours left, so it might be done," Valin said. "And since I'm apparently in the least amount of pain," he noted, not having truly suffered any injuries, "I think I can make the best time. Afy?" he asked her, extending his hand for the dagger.

Almost reluctantly, she gave it up, and then Valin hurried away toward the temple.

"Well," Sef said after a moment, "I agree we should split up for now. Bebe needs to be here, so it's good that Valin is doing that. I also think Horton should be informed immediately as well. He might have some questions, too, after all, and I'm certain he'll be anxious to learn about our fate. If anyone wishes to follow, that's where I'm headed now."

Then Sef moved off toward the caves. It might be an hour or so before everyone was back, and truth be told, there were many minor duties to attend to.

"I'm going to Horton's mansion," Alana said cheerfully. "I think I'll build a fire and start a bath using their facilities."

The others all agreed to return in no more than an hour's time, and since there were a couple of hours before the moon set, it was a welcome respite.

- MJA (Tyrulf), - Justin (Sefarlain), and - JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: A Trip To The Caves

Without looking back, Sef set off towards the caves where the people of Joad had been sheltering before the party's arrival. He knew there was plenty of time to make it to the caves and back before Joree would finally leave them, but he wanted to speak in some depth with Horton and give him a chance to speak directly with Joree as well. With this in mind he quickened his pace, despite his injuries, and set off.

The two moons lighted the trip, and, together with his memory of the journey, he found the path easily enough. After some time he thought he could make out the caves in the distance. All looked dark as he approached.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Off to Horton

Having remained quite through the entire event, Febriwyn thought it easiest he just set off with the ranger. It was often that way with the younger races, what with them being so quick to excitement. There wasn't really any need for discussion; it was a good idea to fetch the gnome, though what use she would actually be was beyond the young rogue.

Instead, speaking with Horton seemed the prudent route and it seemed almost natural that Sefarlain should be thinking along the same lines; though discussing such things with the others still took a bit more building up for the rogue.

With a last glance at the party, Febriwyn set off, at first with a limp as his recent injury cried in protest, to join Sefarlain.

- Febriwyn (Brandon)

PBEM Orlantia: In The Dark.

The party scooted up the stairs and out of the temple on their errand to the statue, leaving Bebe with one of the lanterns. She made Brambles comfortable next to the altar. "Everything will be okay, girl; soon Ehlonna will bless me with the power needed to heal you," she told her she wolf companion, ignoring her own injuries.

Brambles whined in pain, but slowly drifted off to a fitful sleep, her great maw on the gnome's lap.

Bebe slowly slid out and began to look around the temple, seeing it in the light of the lantern. Being more than a little curious, she decided to do a thorough search of the living areas of the temple, either forgetting her promise not to search, or thinking it obviously not dangerous - so it didn't count. *You never know what might come in handy,* she thought.

The first place she went was to the pantry where the aged wine was stored. *Let's see,* she calculated, *if what they were talking about earlier about recovery rights is true, then that would mean about two of these bottles would be mine.*

She took the empty bottle of wine she was carrying out of her pack and carefully slipped in a full one. *Thank you, oh Lord Larethian. I will remember you during your quarter moon for providing this reward to such an unworthy disciple,* she prayed.

Bebe then looked at the empty bottle she had set aside. *Too bad,* she thought; *I bet I could have gotten a copper or two from an alchemist for a bottle of Hell horse blood. After all, how often does one run into a netherworld creature around here?* She shrugged it off and set out to search the living areas for any trinket that might come in handy.

Most everything she found showed its advanced age and neglect. Rich robes had been moth eaten, items of iron were badly rusted, wooden boxes and crates were dried out and brittle, too fragile to open without breaking them. The more she looked, the more she was convinced everything of value had been taken away by Anlashok, and what had been left behind hadn't been worth much.

Besides the bottles of wine - which, in truth, hadn't been all that valuable when they were left centuries ago - a few notable items stood out, though their actual value was dubious at best. In a drawer, there was a silverware service, so tarnished it would take considerable elbow grease to brighten them, for example. The service probably belonged to the temple, but it was hard to say. Bebe also discovered three more books that had been wrapped in oilskin; the cloth had fallen apart, but it had preserved the books. One was not titled and appeared to be a badly written account of the general area the elves had settled. Glancing through it, Bebe surmised it was Anlashok's own guesses as the old ranger tried to piece together the history of Wrath, Purplish, and Valentee. Another untitled and hand written tome in Alderian was a book of poetry. She never cared too much for poetry, often convinced it was people trying to say things in the most obscure way imaginable. She was disappointed to discover the third book, The Emerald Soul by title, was also more poetry, though it was printed and not hand written, and in the Common tongue as well.

Bebe stuffed them all in her pack and was nearly finished with her search when she heard Valin's excited call from the temple area proper. Filled with apprehension, she ran out of the anteroom while drawing her dagger.

*What now?* she worried.

Upon seeing Valin's grin, she knew that all was well. He quickly gave her the gist of the story at the statue while they neared the wolf, which was hiding behind the altar.

"Joree is there! Now! WOW!" Bebe excitedly danced about. "WOW!"

Valin handed Bebe the dagger when it was clear that Brambles' injuries were making the near-wild wolf less than friendly to anyone but her mistress. He explained it was magic and that it might heal the wolf.

"How does this thing work anyway?" Bebe asked.

Valin explained his understanding of the pink pearl in the dagger's pommel - that by touching it to the skin of an injured individual and merely thinking of the desire to impart its healing power, it would be done. Moving the fur aside and getting down to Brambles' skin, this is exactly what Bebe did, and almost instantly the wolf's painful broken hind limbs were fused and the injuries were mostly relieved. As soon as that was done, Brambles began too rip through the temple as fast as she could run. Who knew what a wolf thought of such miracles? But she seemed ecstatic.

"Brambles! Settle down!" Bebe yelled, but it was too late; the wolf was already caught up in the excitement she could sense in Valin and Bebe. She only stopped long enough to jump up on a surprised Valin and run her large, sloppy tongue across his face - her way of thanking him for relieving the pain in which she had been, not fully understanding how it happened, but simply deducing that he had helped her in some way.

"Aww forget it," Bebe said. "When she gets like this it takes a miracle to stop her," almost ignoring the fact it was a minor miracle of sorts that started all the ruckus. "I'll send her off to hunt when we get out of here."

She handed the dagger back to Valin, scooped up her pack and said, "Come on. Time is slipping away. I don't want to miss seeing Joree!" With that she headed towards the temple stairs, followed quickly by the grinning Valin.

The trip back to town seemed to take forever. Valin filled her in more extensively on what had transpired at the statue, what had been asked already, and the answers they had received. Bebe really didn't know what else to ask, and when she got to the statue before Joree's soul took the final journey home, she just kind of knelt there, out of breathe and in awe of what was transpiring.

*WOW!* she thought. *I can't believe I am a part of this.*

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Sanctuary's Farewell.

The elven pair walked along to the caves they had left only that morning, though it seemed they had been gone for days or even weeks. Horton, Andrew, and the remaining villagers who were too old, sick, or feeble to make the trip to Hooktar remained within, and Sef greeted them as he entered the cave.

"You're . . . you're alive! What happened?" demanded Andrew. "Is it coming? Are we finished?" his questions clearly showing the tremendous strain and anxiety he had been under.

"It's dead," Sef said, smiling. "And we all live. We all made it," he breathed at last.

Andrew and Horton looked at one another, scarcely daring to believe the words that brought ten scepters of horror to an end.

"Are you sure?" Horton asked, finally able to speak.

"Quite sure," the ranger smiled again. "It's over. Well . . . " the elder froze at this, waiting for the worst. "There is the matter of Joree Sheen's soul. She is currently residing within the statue of the Holy Warrior of Wrath. She's capable of speaking to you, if you wish, though after tonight she will forever be gone."

Their puzzled looks suggested disbelief, or at least great confusion, so Sef sat down and regaled them with twenty minutes of the more pertinent details of their recent ordeal.

"And," Sef went on, "I think you all have had enough of this dank, foul cave. Alana is at your mansion right now preparing a bath, or so she said. I guess she didn't think you would begrudge her that luxury. So I think all of you should adjourn to your mansion, Horton. It has to be far more comfortable than this," he said, waving his hand in an arc to indicate the cave complex.

Tyrulf and Cosher joined them then, and together the four adventurers were able to assist the remaining townsfolk out of the caves and to the mansion, with only Horton looking thoughtfully back, a silent prayer of thanks on his lips for the caves that had saved the lives of so many.

Once the others were settled in a warm room where, apparently, Alana had built a fire in the fireplace, Horton and Sef adjourned to the mayor's study, while Wyn busied himself with a few forgotten bottles of pickled beets he had discovered.

"We found all your wine in the catacombs," Sef blurted out. Horton froze in his tracks. "Of course you'll have to be extremely careful when you send more of them out. We think it was such a bottle that brought that wizard here in the first place."

Thinking quickly, and reaching the wrong conclusion for such hasty thought, Horton asked, "So the wizard did this to us after all, eh?"

Sef grinned, and for a change felt quite superior having all the answers. "No, he explained," and then went on with a more detailed account of what they all surmised had happened. Horton just took it all in, and the fact his plan and the wine was, in large part, responsible for all their woes weighed heavily on the old man.

"You must not blame yourself for this," Sef told him, discerning the thoughts going through the elder's mind. "This was mostly an accident. Too many elements conspired to achieve this horrible outcome, but with Corellon Larethian's blessings, we have set things aright. You must still exercise caution, but with what we've learned, I think you may avoid many pitfalls now, and Joad will prosper, just as you intended, and your labors will bear fruit, and your people will flourish. It will just take . . . time," he said at last, cocking his head to one side. "I'll leave you for now. If you wish, we are all meeting back at the statue in an hour or so. If ever you had any questions to ask of past events, recent or not so recent, this may be your only chance."

Then Sef left Horton in the study. He might have to confer more with the elder later, but for now, it had been enough.

Stepping out of the study, he spied Alana looking quite refreshed, her wet hair recently washed, showing she had just had a bath.

"You must feel much better now," he ventured with a grin. He couldn't stop smiling despite himself. He hadn't been that happy since he had beaten Lefty, the bear, and secured its cave for himself, thus guaranteeing his own survival from the harsh winter. There was an ecstasy in surviving against all odds, a feeling of euphoria that would not quickly diminish. How like a god he felt at that moment, and thus touching upon one of the many reasons why individuals such as he did what they did. Adventuring, exploring, and living life to its fullest. *How like an addictive drug, this feeling,* he thought. *Too much, and it could kill one. But can I live without it?* he asked himself.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Feeling Good.

Alana enjoyed her bath. She luxuriated in the feel of the water cleansing away the dirt of the fight. When she had removed her chain before entering the water, her hand had touched the ring, Harriet's circle of love. She remembered her vow to rid the world of the creature that had so casually taken the life of that dear old couple. Well, the nightmare was gone and she definitely had been a part of its destruction, but she knew she could never have done it on her own. Yet that was exactly what she had set out to do. In retrospect it seemed like a rather foolish thing to try. But it had all worked out for the best.

While soaking in the water, Alana pondered about what she was going to do next. She thought about something Valin had said. About it being a holy warrior's duty to become the best she could be so she would be able to fight against creatures like the nightmare and win. Well that had not been exactly what he said, but that was what Alana thought he had meant. Of course Alana wasn't a holy warrior like Afyanna, but the idea had struck a cord with her. So far she had taken her talents for granted. Perhaps she ought to study some more, become a better druid and also learn more about the things the monks could teach her. Perhaps she too should try to become the best she could be.

After she finished her bath she ran into Sef, who commented that she even looked like she felt better.
"Yes I do," Alana answered. On his face she saw the same smile she knew must be visible on hers as well. They had done it and they had lived to tell the tale. Yes, she felt really good right then.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: A Pleasant Chat.

After handing the precious dagger to Valin to help Brambles and Bebe, Afyanna's intention had been to go with Sefarlain to the caves and speak to Horton. Soon, though, she realized that Wyn, Tyrulf, and Cosher were already accompanying him. Further, Alana was heading into town, and Valin was heading to the temple of course. Afy changed her mind and decided to stay with Joree. It just felt wrong to abandon her for even a moment on the last night that she would inhabit the statue.

The kin-der found a sturdy crate from a nearby building and pulled it closer to the stone figure. Placing it directly in front of the holy warrior of stone, she took a seat and tried to get comfortable.

"Joree?" Afy asked.

"Do you have more to ask?" the statue inquired.

"No. Well yes, but it's nothing crucial," Afyanna shrugged, and then with an abashed smile asked, "I was just curious; how did our lord Corellon Larethian choose you for your task?"

"Which task are you referring to? Aiding Wrath?"

"Yes. I mean, in my case, I had a vision while I slept. And then as I pursued it, events just lead me to this place." Afyanna looked to the statue and smiled. "I was just curious if your experience was similar."

Joree laughed in her musical voice, and then explained what had occurred.

"Well, I was just sent directly here by order of the temple priest in Handor. He had gotten word of the difficulties in Wrath, and their need, and so he dispatched me. My understanding was to come and see, and do what I thought was best. But I was a seasoned veteran by then, so it was well within my purview to go or not, stay or not, or whatever. I chose to come. And once here, well . . . I chose to stay - at least for a time. I had no idea then it would be for the remainder of my life, but these things happen," she smiled.

Afyanna listened intently, deeply interested in the experiences of a sister of her order. So far she had very little contact with others of her kind, as she had only recently attained the order.

When Joree had finished, Afyanna explained how she had become a holy warrior. How Corellon Larethian had given her the power during an accident in her village.

"How did you come to your calling?" Afy asked Joree.

"My village was overrun by gnolls when I was a small girl," Joree told Afy. "M family had been killed and I was alone. I had always loved my temple, even then, so went there amid the pillaging beasts to seek help, sneaking through the streets and avoiding the monsters as I went. But when I got there I saw the gnolls breaking into the temple. The priest was on the ground there, obviously dead like my father. The blood . . . there was a lot of blood. I knew then I would get no help there. But rather than let the gnolls ransack the place, I risked my life and snuck in the back way and rescued the temple's holy relics. Carrying all I could, I snuck away and walked for days to the next town and next temple. I had no food or water, but felt oddly in the presence of my lord the whole while. It sustained me on my journey. Five days later I reached the next town. Hmm, short legs for an eight-year-old girl, I guess. I could have made the same trip in a third that time later. Anyway, I was taken in by the temple and raised there, always with an eye on the idea of fighting the sort of evil that had killed my parents, destroyed my village, and threatened my temple. So you see, it wasn't the same as you. It wasn't really sudden, but came about after decades of work in the temple. But perhaps I was chosen that day my village was destroyed, and it only took that long for me to understand and accept my true calling."

Afy sat in rapt attention as Joree explained how it had happened to her. Truth be told, although she was of course interested to hear how another had attained the order, Afyanna was really more interested in just listening to Joree speak. The Holy Warrior of Wrath had only an hour or so longer in the village for which she had given her life. True, she had been trapped in a soul field for many, many years, but she had also been able to view the town that she saved. Being freed was all for which Joree had prayed for so long, but Afy suspected that she would be more than a little sad to leave the town for good. Afyanna wanted to make sure that her last moments in Joad were spent doing things other than answering things about quests, or worse, thinking about her waning time. Sometimes simple, idle, conversation could help where overt sympathy could not.

When Joree had finished, Afy then asked about her quests. This one to save the Wrath had been Afy's first, and she wondered how many Joree had been tasked to complete - and how she faired.

Joree laughed lightly and grinned. "Oh, too many to count, really. So many little things. Far more little things than big things. I often felt like I was just living my life, and only occasionally did a quest interrupt it, but truthfully, there was always some unfinished business here or there. But none of my experiences will really tell you what's in store for you, little sister. You'll just have to wait and see.

Finally Afyanna looked to Joree and asked, "You've been very gracious in answering all our questions, do you have anything to ask of me?"

"Just one thing, but don't answer right away. Think about it for a time. Then just before I depart, tell me your answer."

"OK," Afy agreed.

"Would you do it again, even knowing the next time you would die?"

Afyanna didn't like the question. It wasn't an easy thing to answer, and until it came right to it, one never really could know what they'd do, could one? Then the call of nature came upon her and she had to excuse herself. She didn't really want to leave Joree alone, but she had no choice, and went in search of some place to relive herself.

- Rick (Afyanna) and - JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: A Solo Question.

Tyrulf trudged along with the others to the caves, still elated with the recent events. *Well, there is sure a lot to tell Horton,* he thought, as he went over the events in his mind and shook his head in wonder. To speak to someone who had been dead for so long was a wonder to behold. He had heard about such dealings, but what he heard was that the dead were usually were very cryptic in their answers since they were disturbed and often forced by some spell to answer. Yet Joree was there willingly.

They reached the caves and after Sef and Wyn had told Horton the beast was dead, it was plain to see the relief on his face. Tyrulf decided to go back to the deeper caves to see to those who hadn't been able to make the trip to Hooktar. *Methinks that they will want to move out here right away,* he thought, as he moved deeper into caves.

Many of the people were sleeping, but the few who were not looked upon Tyrulf with fear. Tyrulf smiled to reassure them. He knew they feared bad news and not him, personally.

Speaking to those within earshot, Tyrulf said, "There is nothing to worry about. As a matter of fact, I would like you to start waking everyone up; we are going to move you to somewhere more comfortable."

Ty hadn't really considered where that would be, but he figured that anywhere would be better than the caves. A short while later, Horton and the rest of the group came into the back caves. Horton looked a little surprised since Ty had everyone up and getting ready to move already.

"I figured that you would want to move them out of the caves," murmured Ty with a shrug.

"Wise thinking; we will be moving them to my mansion as soon as possible," remarked Horton. The townsfolk looked at Horton questioningly since Ty hadn't really explained to them what had happened, other than to say that the nightmare was gone. He figured that Horton should be the one to tell them when they got to the mansion and were more comfortable.

A short while later, Tyrulf found himself helping the townsfolk to the mansion. Without thinking, he started whistling a tune that was popular where he grew up, and Cosher listened with some interest, but said nothing. Shortly after everyone reached the mansion, Wyn, Sef, and the rest of the group sat down with Horton and started going into detail about the events, answering all of his questions.

When everyone was paying attention to Sef and Wyn's detailed explanations, Tyrulf left the room. Soon after, he left the mansion altogether. While not trying to be completely sneaky or anything, he tried to make his exit from the room unnoticed, leaving the room at the most interesting time in the story, while everyone else was paying attention to that. Ty moved as fast as he could toward the statue. All of the party members were either at the mansion or at the Moonstone temple or elsewhere. Good, he had wanted to ask Joree a question in private. Shortly after leaving, Tyrulf could see the statue in the moonlight. She was alone.

Joree seemed to be watching him as he approached, and a slight smile came to her lips as she recognized him. "Hello Tyrulf. Why do you return so soon?"

Tyrulf hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. "Well, I have a question of a personal nature to ask you. I also figured that you had spent enough time alone and that you should have some company during this last hour."

"As I said before, I will answer any questions as best as I can."

Tyrulf moved his shirt from his shoulder exposing his tattoo. Joree looked but said nothing, perhaps wondering what the little man was up to, but waiting for Tyrulf to explain. "I know almost nothing of my past; I woke up on a beach knowing only my approximate age. My only clue is this tattoo. I was wondering if you have ever seen such a mark in your travels. I know that it was many, many years ago when you roamed the lands, but I thought that if it was a mark of a region or town it may have been in use even back then."

Tyrulf looked up at the statue, hoping she knew something. *Even if she doesn't know anything, I think I should stay and keep her company. Although I am sure she will have a lot of company soon.*

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: The Mark Of The Purple Oleaster.

"There is a tree that grows native in the northlands - silverberry trees, they are called, or Oleaster trees. These can only be found on the continent of Mundanus," Joree told Tyrulf. "If you're unfamiliar with silverberries, they are a lot like olives - rich in oil and highly prized. Though most species have silvery or greenish yellow flowers, one variety has a decidedly deep purple colored leaf. Many say these silvery purple leaves are the best trees - short and stout, strong, even longer lived than all the others - and their silverberries have a better flavor. As you might guess, whoever owns the land where those are found would be quite well off, economically speaking, of course."

Ty didn't understand what that had to do with anything, and his puzzled look said as much.

Joree smiled and continued her tale. "There are, hmmm . . . at least there were half a dozen dwarven families controlling most of Mundanus a couple centuries ago. I have no clue what may be there today, or how things may have changed. But I know it was common practice for each of these dwarven clans to bear their family's mark. Your tattoo is the Mark of the Purple Oleaster. You probably belong to that family."

"Probably?" Ty asked. "Wouldn't the tattoo prove I did?"

"Oh no, not at all. Anybody can get a tattoo. You see the thing about those dwarven clans is that they were pretty much constantly at war with one another. Land rights, trade rights, you name it, they couldn't agree on it, and would fight to the death to champion their family's point of view. A more conniving, vicious lot of dwarves I've never met. No offense."

"None taken," Ty said, not sure if he should have been offended or not.

"But why wouldn't my tattoo suggest I was a . . a what?"

"A Purple Oleaster - of the clan Oleaster, who probably took their name since that clan held a virtual monopoly on the purple silverberry trees - or the land upon which they thrived."

"OK, so why wouldn't the mark prove my heritage?" he wanted to know.

"It could be fake - a counterfeit mark. Part of a plot to infiltrate the clan, or replace one of the rightful heirs who looked similar enough. Maybe the mission was only meant to fool others for a brief time. Or maybe you are a rightful member of that clan. Normally I'd say the mark proved your heritage, but we're talking about the Mundanus dwarven clans here. Back stabbers, thieves' guilds, assassins' guilds, gangs and thugs, were all part of the repertoire of those noble families."

"Noble?"

"Well, yes. Each clan was a virtual kingdom unto itself, and their economic control of the population at large, which was mostly non-dwarven, made most other races on those isles or under their waters subjects to those clans. Politics at their finest - or their worst - depending on your point of view, of course."

"Under their waters?"

"Of course. Mundanus is a handful of large islands separated by shallow seas no more than 50 feet deep. Sea elves and other aquatics populate these seas. Most areas between the islands are only 20 feet deep, if that. Anyway, the whole thing is tied together with rich trade deals and a thriving economy. But the dwarves are at the top of that food chain. Mundanus is a strange and beautiful place. Some of the best art in the world comes from there, and their canal streets and waterways are a refreshing way to live. But the place is dangerous for foreigners. The politics, you know. One wrong step, one misunderstanding, and someone'll likely kill you as take a chance you're not a spy. The locals know better than to get involved or fight back for independence. Secret guilds run rife, and no one there is who they seem. The tattoo, if it's genuine, may hold some clue as to that, but I have no idea how to tell if it's real or not. Theoretically, only the family would know how to tell if its own tattoo were genuine. I'm sorry, but I really don't know anything more about it. And I'm also sorry I have no advice to give you, except, if you explore into that realm . . . be careful."

Ty was amazed at what he was hearing. Years and years of practically nothing, and then, suddenly, from out of the past no less, a torrent of information - and not all of it good.

"Hey Ty," Afyanna said, walking back into the town square. Where are the others?" she asked the hill dwarf.

"Ah, umm. Well, I guess they'll be along soon enough," Ty replied.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Horton's Mansion

It felt strange and oddly comforting to be able to walk around in the elder's house. At last no one had to fear the nightmare. They had succeeded, at least this time.

Sef spent several minutes talking to the other villagers but soon felt a calling to return to the statue. He informed Alana of his intent and then returned to Horton in his study. The elder still looked dazed by the news and waved the elf in with one of his hands.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, Horton, but I must return to Joree's statue to bid our goodbyes. If you wish to come, please feel free to accompany me. I must talk to you later about the temple and our plans, but that will wait until the morning."

With that, he left for the statue. Before he arrived, he detected the fact that Horton was following him.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: A Last Question For Horton.

Sefarlain slowed his pace as he walked toward the village, allowing Horton to catch up, not wanting to pressure the elder. Soon the pair was walking alongside one another. Conversation was stilted with so much on their minds, but eventually the elder spoke to the ranger.

"So then, something occupies your thoughts, master elf. Is it perhaps to do with the secret of Joad that I kept from you? Do you feel betrayed somehow? Or do you feel I placed you in danger somehow?" A look of concern crossed his face. "And yet what could I have done otherwise? Still, the fate of Joad is in your hands now."

"No, Horton," contradicted Sefarlain, "I am aware of your plight and my responsibility to Joad and its people all too well. No, in truth we need your help and advice."

The elder halfelf stopped and looked straight at Sefarlain, a surprised look crossing his face. The ranger merely nodded at this and continued. "You will, I am sure, realize that the fate of the temple and Joad's continued prosperity depends on a high priest being resident. There is much still to be done, and all this will, I'm afraid, require resources."

"But the village has none to speak of yet. And those we do have must be used to defend the wine stores. We can't . . ."

Sefarlain stopped Horton in mid-sentence with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We will not need or expect anything from the village. You have suffered enough. But we will need your expertise. Inside the temple were a few very venerable bottles of wine, some three dozen in total. The sale of these will allow the temple to be funded at the start, and for the party to continue our training in the service of Corellon Larethian, but we do not have the knowledge of where to sell them, how to transport them, and how to disguise their origin. Your advice and help in this would help both us and the temple."

After walking along further, eventually Sef continued. "Before we arrive at the statue, one further thought I wish to share with you. The sheriff of Hooktar talked of Tarren possibly annexing this region in a few years because of the Duke Endlemire's death and the death of his sons. Does this affect you in any way?"

And with that final thought, the pair arrived in front of Joree Sheen for the last time.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Joree's Last Adventure.

Bebe was sitting cross-legged in front of the statue that housed Joree's spirit. Eventually, everyone in the party returned, along with Horton, the elder of Joad. Bebe had so many questions flooding her mind that they became jammed up in her throat, and she remained speechless for a good long while.

Bebe with nothing to say! *I can just imagine what my brother Finkledorf would say if he ever heard of this,* she thought.

She slowly stood once all returned to the town square from wherever they had gotten off to - a little worse for wear, but everyone was still alive.

Joree's shimmered, as she seemed to look over her shoulder and spoke. "My time on the material plane draws nigh. I feel the tendrils from Olympus tugging at me."

Bebe looked around. Everyone was back for the final farewell, and sudden inspiration flooded into the gnome's mind as she rushed over to a nearby house. She soon returned with a mismatched collection of goblets, mugs, and glasses, and handed them out to her relatively newfound friends. She then opened her backpack and carefully pulled forth the bottle of wine she had collected earlier in the day to save for a special occasion. *What could be more special than this to send a heroine on her last adventure?*

She walked around the group who were quietly talking and equally distributed a small portion to everyone present.

"I would like to propose a toast to Joree," Bebe said as she raised her goblet high. "To Joree, whose dedication and determination has proven herself worthy to sit in the court of Corellon Larethian, whose self-sacrifice trapped the Timber and saved the temple, the valley, and the people of Joad for the centuries that followed, and with her undying love and devotion, halted the spread of the abominable evil that was sure to follow. Here's to you and to your journey. May your passing from this world to the next bring you great joy and the everlasting peace you so deserve."

Bebe looked at the group who had gathered in the square. She saw sadness, joy, and excitement in the eyes of her friends. "To Joree!" She exclaimed.

"To Joree!" They echoed.

The sweet wine, mellowed with time, seemed only to be a whispered reminder of the past. A past that had blessed that valley with riches for centuries, and promised to do so for possibly an eternity more. The amount was little more than a taste after everyone received a portion, but it was going to be one of the most memorable Bebe would ever likely touch to her lips, partly due to the event as a whole, and partly due to the fine quality age tempered into the grape.

A lone tear slid down Bebe's cheek. There was a lot of meaning in that tear. A tear of joy for Joree. A final tear of loss for Jahar. A tear for her new found friends. A tear for Brambles' recovery. A tear of homesickness for West Berry. And, simply, a tear because she finally achieved the adventure she had always craved.

The toast she gave was for Joree's final adventure, but it might as well have been for Bebe herself because she knew at that time there was no going back to the simple life in the hamlet of West Berry. The world was too big and there was too much to see. She had wanderlust in her now. The adrenaline and excitement of the unknown was still racing through her blood, and as she reflected on it, she knew that she had changed. For better or worse, she had changed. In those few short days since she had left the Dominion lands, Ehlonna help her, she had changed.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Final Thoughts.

*That was a nice touch,* Mystir thought as he raised the cup of wine to his mouth. He had forgotten his injuries, but the simple task of drinking to a toast was a painful reminder. Taking nothing more than just a few drops, the halfelf tasted the wine. It was quite good.

Mystir refrained from drinking any more. It didn't take much to hamper the boy, and a wizard with dull mind was like a warrior with a dull sword.

His time alone from the group was good for him. After the party split to perform their various tasks, Mystir kept Joree company. And when Afy returned, Mystir took the opportunity to take a walk to the edge of the silent town. Looking around from the center of town, his thoughts were an echo from his time alone.

*This desolate town will slowly return to life.* He could see the townspeople performing their tasks in his mind - children running around about, shops with their wares displayed on the streets. *This town will return to life, and its people will have a chance at happiness,* he thought. *Life and happiness, because of us, and because of what I helped do.*

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Priorities.

The expression on the town elder's face at hearing the statue speak was hard to describe. There was surprise, to be sure, but also more. Pride? Sympathy maybe? He seemed genuinely moved by the presence of the Holy Warrior of Wrath.

Afyanna gave Horton a few moments with Joree to compose himself before she approached.

"Horton," she said, "I want you to know that my intentions are to get a high priest here as soon as I possibly can."

The directness of her statement caught him off-guard, and he blinked a few times before answering.

"But . . . but what about the wine?" he asked.

"I can't imagine the church would take issue with the town using the caverns," Afy said. Upon reflection, she added, "but I am not the authority on that."

"If word gets out before we have a chance to secure guards, we could be ruined!"

Afyanna faced the town elder and looked him in the eyes. "Horton, you have a duty to your town - which you have performed admirably. But I have a duty to the church that I intend to fulfill. A functioning temple is just as vital to the future of Joad as the wine cache is. The temple must be revitalized."

"But can't you wait?" Horton asked. "You can wait at least a few months, can't you?"

Afyanna's eyes darted to Joree and to those gathered around the statue. Only Joree and the party knew of the vault. "I am afraid I cannot. With a band of guards on constant duty around the wine stores, sooner or later one will stumble upon the entrance to the temple. We cannot allow the possibility that others might come along and desecrate the holy ground. In the end, this is also best for Joad."

The thought of a guard stumbling into the temple and then seeing the damaged secret door to the vault was frightening. What might happen if one tried to open the vault? What would happen if one DID open the vault and retrieved something within?

Horton nodded. He might not have agreed with her, but he seemed to understand her position.

"Will you also tell them of the wine in the cavern?" he asked.

Afyanna had not thought that far ahead and she was unsure how to answer at first. "I must give the church officials full detail of what was discovered in and around the temple here in Joad. But I will also explain your situation."

Horton frowned. It was clear he did not relish the idea of the town's secret being shared with others, particularly before he had a chance to take steps to protect it.

"I gave you my word that I would do what I could to protect your secret, Horton," Afy said. "I am duty-bound to relate what I found here. But I will also describe the details of your situation and attempt to act on your behalf to see that the church doesn't expose the secret."

After a moment's thought, she added, "Besides, forewarning the church that the caverns underlying the temple are being used as wine storage might be better than if they arrived and discovered this for themselves."

"I . . . I see your point," Horton said at last.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Horton's Dilemma.

Once Afyanna had finished speaking with Horton, Sef stepped forward to address the pair and also the rest of the group.

"Now that Joree is soon to depart, we must all agree that we will protect the secret of Joad to the best of our abilities. That first means agreeing upon a story to prevent any other curious individuals doing what Corbin apparently did here."

"But the nightmare thing was a fluke, so that would never happen again," Valin offered.

Sef scowled a bit, and then frowned before replying. "That's not the point. The point is, for all we know, something even worse awaits in the vault of iniquities, and we know if the temple is defiled, then the enchantments that bless this land will forever be lost."

Horton was listening with keen interest, taking it all in.

"Ah, well . . . yes, of course," Valin finally said.

A few murmured at the thought of how many would come to Joad if the truth of Joree escaped - at least for the moment.

"I figure the best way is to keep it simple and as close to the truth as we can," the ranger continued, "so we can tell the authorities it was a nightmare somehow unleashed by the purple wizard while in town. We can bury his body in Joad so if they need to inspect his remains the temple is left undisturbed. We'll have to agree where we found his body. But no mention of the Timber, temple, or anything to do with the stored wine in the catacombs should be part of the story right now. They can just be left out of our story. The sheriff at Hooktar is bound to have to report this and we must make sure we are all telling the same tale."

Horton nodded furiously. "No one except Andrew knows of the temple yet, so that shouldn't be a problem from the villagers' side of things."

"We're not actually going to imply that Corbin did this deliberately, are we? I'd rather not sully his name - whatever it may be - since it was an accident and not really an evil act on his part," Valin suggested, offering his concerns for the fallen wizard of Dionysus.

The party looked from one to another. They were all slowly becoming aware of the enormous responsibility on their shoulders.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: The Plan.

Everyone stood around the statue, pondering various matters, thinking, waiting, wondering what the next best move would be, or how far they could trust one another.

"You mentioned Duke Endlemire?" Horton finally broke the silence. "I hardly think the politics of the region will matter much, even if they change a bit, unless we are forcibly occupied and our lands are pillaged," he added. "I'm far more concerned about individuals, or small groups of bandits who owe allegiance to no one but themselves, who might feel it a simple matter to rob and murder us if they hear there is untold wealth here. And it doesn't even matter if the actual wealth is mostly potential wealth, or can only be truly realized through proper channels. Fifty-year-old bottles of wine are not so easy to spend as gold, but you know the thickheaded - they won't stop to think things through beyond whether they are strong enough to kill us and take it. We could easily all end up dead, and the wine wastefully drunk or smashed, or flogged off for coppers on the gold, all through ignorance. The world is never short on ignorance," he finished.

His fears and trepidation were obvious to all there. Even Joree, since she then addressed the elder.

"There is more going on here than just that, my dear Willey, but it's all so interwoven that I suspect the only reasonable solution is a joint venture to accommodate everyone's wishes."

"What do you propose?" he asked the statue.

"Of paramount importance is getting a priest here. Your lands depend on it. And once that happens, the church will again have a vested interest in defending the place. A resident high priest can do all that. And word there is a priest of Corellon Larethian here in residence will go a long way to dissuading marauders from feeling these lands are easy pickings. No, I'm more concerned about what might happen if elves start coming back to live in Joad once the temple opens up."

"Why would that be a bad thing?" Mystir asked.

"It was the presence of elves in these lands that first attracted the drow, and might do so again. Of course this is a long-term concern - it might take a few decades to accomplish all this. But by then, hopefully, Joad will have had time to train a town guard." Then Joree looked sort of sad just then. "In many ways, I'll be sorry to have missed such an interesting time in Joad's life, and after watching over your town and people for centuries, it'll break my heart to go. But now I have no choice."

"But what's the next move?" Wyn asked, his more mercenary tendencies exhibiting their pragmatism once again.

"The wine," Horton said. "Not our wine, but your wine, or the temple's wine. It'll be the seed money for much of what must immediately be done, but that's only going to happen through proper channels. What did you say you had in the temple? Three dozen bottles?"

"But of those thirty-six bottles, we figure half of them belong to the church, and the other half are ours by right of salvage," Afyanna explained.

"Thirty-five now," Bebe said, holding up the empty one they had all just shared. "I figure half of thirty-six is eighteen, and with nine of us, we each get two. I just shared one of mine with us all. I could think of no better use for it," she grinned. A pained looked crossed Horton's face, but he said nothing more about it.

"OK, thirty-five bottles of even older wine. Joad is not without resources. Once the people return, we will resume our plans and incorporate those bottles with our own. Naturally, though, you'll not have time for this - being who you are, and having other more important matters to attend. So I guess we'll . . . umm . . . buy you out. If you give us a good deal," he quickly added.

"What do you offer?" Wyn wanted to know.

"Seventy-five percent of full market value for yours - full value for the church's since their needs and ours coincide. Sight unseen, if what you say about them is true, and if Bebe's bottle was a fair example, I estimate each at 250 gold. That's 187 and half for each of yours that you give us and don't keep. The church will receive 4,500 GP straight up. I'll put that in trust with you, Afyanna, and trust you will return it to the church at your first opportunity."

"So you'll give me 375 gold right now?" Wyn asked the elder.

"Yes, unless you want to keep one bottle, then 187 and half gold, or you can keep both and maybe sell it later. But I warn you, not only will that probably draw more unwanted attention, but you might not even get that much elsewhere. It takes time, patience, and the right contacts to sell wine like this."

"You have that kind of cash?" Afyanna asked the elder.

"Umm, well . . . Joad does, yes. A few precious stones for you for easy transport should be acceptable. And gold coins for the rest," he added.

"That seems fair," Joree said, though whose 'side' she was on, if anyone's, was not quite clear. "And there isn't much better for an adventurer than a gem or two for transporting wealth, except maybe magic itself," she told them.

Afyanna did not wish to argue with Joree, and even if she did, wasn't sure what the argument would be.

"OK," she told her companions, "who wants to keep a bottle for themselves?"

"Be warned," Horton interjected, "good wine is not something you can lug around the countryside for weeks and weeks in some backpack. Unless you have immediate plans for it, like Bebe had, I wouldn't recommend you keep any of it. And for security reasons, you probably shouldn't keep more than a bottle or two anyway for all of you put together. You don't have to explain where you got your gems, but someone might want to know where you got your wine," he explained his reasoning to them all.

"Fine then," Sef said at last. "That sounds fine, but how are you going to keep the same thing from happening again? Last time, one of your bottles brought Corbin here. It could happen again."

"We'll have to spread them out more. One bottle here or there is not a lot to think about. I'm afraid too many bottles ended up in the same shop in Alodar, and so Corbin probably saw them all and figured there might be a lot more. We'll just have to be a bit more careful this time, until we are ready - say, maybe a year's time, if all goes well. You can't tell anybody about these details until a year has passed," he warned them.

"Except the church, of course," Afy corrected him.

"Yes . . . very well, the church must know too. But no one else," he whispered his plea.

All seemed to agree, or at least no one said they objected.

"Wonderful!" Joree laughed. "This might go better than I had hoped."

"And where shall I look for a high priest?" Afy wanted to know.

"I suggest either Alodar itself, or Handor, or if you wish to go further, Alderami herself. Those will be your best bets. I've been out of the loop for a couple of centuries now, but I'm fairly certain this would still hold true," Joree suggested.

Afyanna then knew, at least for her, where she had to go next. Alderami was close to home for her. And she might have to go through Alodar's port anyway.

"The quickest trip to those destinations, oddly enough, is in the opposite direction, back the way we came, and to Zephyr Bay. That'll take us though Hooktar first, then back through Fecklar, then eventually Goldenbow and Sir Eric Ornatep, then back to the Sage Shereef."

"Not really," Horton said. "The quickest way back to Tarren is along the Toreador River in a boat to SunSet Lake. Now that spring is here, I mean," he added.

"I'd rather not go that way," Afy admitted. "It may save some time, that is true, but we'd miss a few things we should wrap up. Your people in Hooktar, and the sheriff there, for example, need to be told it's safe. And I'd like to visit Sir Eric once again. Either way, we can visit Nick Shereef before we set sail, but I'd rather backtrack. What does everyone else wish to do?" she asked everybody.

In truth, now that the quest was virtually over, she no longer felt she had any right over them - if she even ever had any.

"I, for one," Mystir began, "wish to continue my . . . well . . . let's face it . . . our adventures. We can do so much more together, whatever it might be, than any of us can do alone. And to that point, I must point out that if we do stay together as a group, I think it wise and prudent to establish a party fund out of our earnings. I know the church always expects 10% of us, and a lot of governments do too, if they have a claim over us. But I think the party should have a tithe fund as well."

"What are you talking about Mystir?" Alana questioned him.

"If we each put 10% of any gold we get into a group fund, we can use that fund to buy whatever the majority in the party wishes to spend it on - like, for example, room and board, bribes, passage on a ship, party supplies like food and gear - that sort of thing. Of course if any of you feel it likely you won't be staying with the group, then you'd be exempt from this party tithe. But for the rest of us, I think it wise and helpful to start such a fund. It'll save a lot of time and bother in the future."

"And you keep the gold, eh?" Wyn smirked, a sly grin on his face.

"Yes, I could, but I'd keep it for the party, just as I have been doing. But if you all don't want me to do it, that's fine; I still think it's important to do, whoever holds the party's money."

"Yes, yes, yes, we can work out those details later. We'll have a long sea trip ahead of us and little else to discuss, so let's save it for then, shall we?" Afy offered. Everyone nodded.

Joree was positively grinning.

"Umm, why the grin?" Afy asked her elder 'sister.'

"Oh, it's just that I do miss it so - what's ahead of you, I mean."

"If you all don't mind," Horton began, "I'd like a little time alone with Joree before I go get your money. Do you mind?"

"It's OK," Joree told them. "There is plenty of time yet before I must go, so we shall speak again."

Some of them did mind, since they wanted to know what Horton might ask of Joree, but it would have been damned rude to refuse the man, and it seemed as if Joree wanted to speak to him alone as well, so all relented and left them alone. Horton watched them all go before he returned to question the Holy Warrior of Wrath.

As a group, they wandered off toward the well, taking the opportunity to refill their canteens with fresh water, and to discuss their own matters in private.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: A Sound Plan.

"I like the idea of a group fund," Alana said to Mystir, "so you can count me in," she said, having already decided she would take Horton up on his offer for her share of the bottles, and while making mental calculations as to how much gold she have to keep back for the so-called party fund.

She looked back in the direction where Horton was having his private conversation with Joree, and couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. Alana had to admit that she admired the elder's plan for the town's wine, and the stubbornness with which he executed it. He would do well for Joad. Under his charge, Alana felt there would be no further need to worry too much about the place.

The monastic druid chuckled softly when she thought about the bright future of Joad, feeling rather good and taking a certain pride in her accomplishments over the last few days within the group. She knew it probably wouldn't have ended well for her had she not been with her newfound friends.

"I'd like to stay with the group for a while," Alana answered Afy's earlier question about what she wanted to do. "Like Mystir said, we did well together. And the journey you proposed tying up all the lose ends sounds fine to me," she admitted, while nearly tripping over Lucian who had just let out a short, commanding yowl while placing a threatening claw on her leg.

"Oh, don't be silly," Alana said. " I wasn't leaving you behind. Of course that includes you. Or did you have other plans?"

The cat removed his claw and proceeded to rub himself against Alana's legs with some affection. When she stroked him, he broke out in a loud purr.

"That means he agrees," Alana said.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: A Ranger's Wanderings.

*So what now?*

That thought carried a lot more implications than Sefarlain cared to think about. He'd been wandering the coast for over a year before encountering Afyanna and Cosher in Tarren, and although he didn't care to admit it, he had found himself missing his homeland and tiring of the continual company of sailors and passengers. How he had longed for a chance to prove himself to finally be able to hold his head high in front of his father. And what a chance he found with Afyanna; yet he couldn't even talk about it!

No, he was not ready yet. Now was not the time to face his father. That would wait years if need be, for in the eyes of the Alderami, that could be the blink of an eye.

"I, too, would like to stay with you all," offered the elf, "although I would like to return to Peric for a short time and to report back to the Valantaúr. That may take a short while."

He turned and looked back at Horton in the distance. "And I'm also going to accept Horton's kind offer. It is a considerable relief not to have to worry about the logistics of such goods, let alone what they might attract to this area. You know, even though I think we are more or less done here, I know my thoughts and wishes will always be with the people of this village, and, who knows, our paths may cross again," he confessed to his fellow adventurers.

- Justin (Sefarlain)