PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 035

PBEM Orlantia: Oops.

*187.5 GP!* Bebe inwardly gasped! *Now that was a toast!*

*Oh well,* she thought, *the wine was well worth it. If I wouldn't have toasted Joree's sacrifice, then most likely some slovenly noble probably would have traded it for the services of his nightly trollop and the moment would have been forever lost.*

Perhaps the irony of the 'sour grapes' over a vintage bottle of wine was lost on her, but ultimately, deep down, she was glad to have shared the bottle.

*Anyway,* she continued to convince herself that the overall cost was well worth the expense, *I would have gone bonkers from curiosity if my lips never touched its sweetness.*

Satisfied with her reasoning, Bebe began to think about the future. Technically, she only signed on to the adventure to this point and never really thought about where to go from there. *This is a pleasant enough valley, and all, and the villagers would probably appreciate me sticking around for awhile, but what to do?*

After a few moments she decided she was too tired to think about it without rest and meditation, and since she had already said goodbye to Joree, she decided to get some rest. Bidding goodnight to her companions, and asking to be left alone to her own thoughts that night, Bebe headed for the lakeshore to set up a quick camp. There was still a chill in the air, but many a night she spent in the woods had hardened her body to that same air.

After starting a small campfire, she stripped down and dove into the icy water to clean the filth off her body. *Some like the smell of fancy perfumes in their bath water, but this is how you cleanse your soul,* she thought. *What better way to wash the day's evil from you than one's rebaptism in nature's splendor?*

After the initial shock, the water refreshed her and washed away the dirt and grime that accumulated on her from crawling around the dusty antiquities of the temple. She quickly rinsed out her clothing and hung them on a nearby tree branch to dry.

Brambles just sat there, contentedly watching Bebe's movements while the she wolf felt no need to move herself.

Sitting wrapped in her cloak by the fire, Bebe began to meditate and clear her mind of the day's trials.

*We are not powerful enough to face the evil in this world,* she thought. *I was rash to believe that I could so easily change the world with what I've already learned. I should seek out Quaramil for further instruction. Doubtless he would tell me he could have killed the nightmare with a mere thought,* she figured, knowing his propensity to exaggerate at times. But his true powers were beyond even her current understanding, she knew.

*By the grace of Ehlonna, we tread,* she prayed. *I will ask the goddess for guidance in my quest, and I'll make a decision in the morning.*

She unsheathed her dagger and gripped it close to her bosom, then snuggled up next to Brambles, as she slowly drifted from meditation to sleep.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Looking Ahead.

Many of the members of the party seemed to be in agreement to continue their adventures - after a fashion. They were young and inexperienced, and needed to return to their homelands for various reasons. Afyanna, too, would need additional training before she would be ready for the next task put before her. The holy warrior had learned much over the course of her quest. She had made great strides in her abilities and faith, and now had better insight into some of the things she did NOT know.

*'Only through knowing your limitations can you grow,'* her instructor, Stonn, told her once. Afyanna began to understand her master's words.

But being so focused on her quest, Afy had not considered what to do afterwards. Now that the time was upon her to decide, she found that the only things that lay ahead of her were mundane; notify the refugees in Hooktar that they were safe and could return home, seek out a high priest, return to Sage Shereef, among the many. They were all things that needed doing, but nothing particularly adventurous was amongst them. Maybe those were the things that got left out of stories.

Joree had explained that her life as a holy warrior was not in pursuit of some great overriding quest. Instead, it had been pretty much as she chose to live it, with the occasional task or quest set forth from the church. Perhaps Afyanna's next course was to just do what was necessary until called upon again, all the while improving herself and her abilities, and so continuing along with her current comrades would work out just fine. That made sense. It was, when she thought about it, the very way she had come into this adventure.

Horton's gesture to buy out her bottles of wine would go far in paying for her training and purchasing better gear for herself. Afyanna had originally wanted to donate a large portion of her share to the church, but the more experienced holy warrior, Joree, had changed her thinking.

The church was already going to get a large share - more than enough to begin the revitalization process of the temple. It would also be getting its normal tithe, as was expected of all its members, although, she mused, ten percent of an adventurer's intake was probably so far in excess of what most people gave, it would astonish them to learn the details. In some cases, she even suspected such tithes might comprise the bulk of a church's income.

Finally, as a representative - and direct arm - of the temple, it was expected she'd be adequately geared and trained, and getting that done was HER responsibility. Quietly, she began to wonder what such training might actually cost.

In truth, some tales she had heard went hand-in-hand with the tales of untold wealth in which some adventurers were rumored to swim. Those sub-tales spoke of the enormity of their expenses. Millions in, yes, but millions of silver out as well - hundreds, thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of gold pieces of incredible wealth flowing too and fro, unseen by public eyes. And the training she and the others would require might be very expensive. There would be little wonder if that were true, for who other than even better, more experienced adventurers could train them? And, no doubt, their time and effort didn't come cheaply.

For the first time, Afyanna began to wonder if the few hundred gold she might have earned would even cover all the expenses, and she finally realized it might not, and that she still had a great deal to learn, even about her own economic means. What would she do if her expenses outweighed her means? It began to concern her.

Was this unusual, then? It wasn't like they found the long lost treasure of such and such, or a pile of forgotten gold, or the hoard of an ancient dragon, or everything like what some tales told. They had a few bottles of forgotten wine - and that was only particularly valuable due to the length of time it had lain there.

So yes, Afyanna would continue with this group. But first she had things to do. And she had a question to answer.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Sounds Good.

Tyrulf had listened to the rest of the group accept Horton's offer and could not come up with any reason not to join them.

"Well, I'll also accept Horton's offer. I do not want to worry about how, when, where, and who to sell this stuff to, thank you very much." And that was certainly true, for he had his own concerns to occupy his mind.

Looking at the rest of the group, Tyrulf went on. "I, too, would like to adventure more with the rest of you. After we all take care of whatever business that still needs doing in connection with Joad, and maybe a few personal matters for each of us, I'd like nothing better than to meet up someplace again and go on with the rest of you. What is our next move, by the way?"

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Impetuous Youth.

Febriwyn watched the others silently, still wondering why the younger races always felt a need to rush such decisions; why not enjoy their victory and then decide what to do? They all seemed intent on making some life changing decision right away and not savoring their hard-earned victory.

However, while they were all together, they might as well make the decision - not of necessity, but for pragmatic reasons. Personally, Febriwyn felt more at home on his own, although something within him wished to spend a bit longer with Sefarlain. Perhaps there was more he could learn, and although the ranger had proved to be . . . overly cautious at times, he had also been brave when called upon.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Spirit's Departure.

Horton walked toward the party after having asked his questions of the old warrior.

"Things seem . . . well . . . set. We can only proceed with our plans as best we may. What have you decided?" he asked Afyanna.

"We've all decided to sell you our remaining bottles of wine. But I was wondering if Joad would like to present a couple bottles as a gift to a couple of men without whose generosity or sage advice we might have failed, or even never arrived. Joad does owe them, after a fashion."

"But too many will begin to know our secret if you start spreading the wine around," cautioned Horton. "I mean, we wouldn't begrudge you a couple of bottles, but you must exercise discretion."

"I think both men I have in mind can be trusted - one due to his good sense and experience, and the other due to professional ethics."

The elder looked at her, studying her expression for a time, then decided she probably knew what she was doing. Horton nodded his head, saying, "Of course, Joad owes you so much, we will happily present a couple of the best bottles to you. Do you plan to carry them all over the countryside for months to come? I can select some good ones - not quite great ones - but they would travel well."

"No, the better ones would be fine. They'll be on the road a few days only - not months."

"Very well," Horton told her, smiling, seeming to have reached a conclusion of sorts. "Then Joree would like to say goodbye. It's time."

The moment had come and drove other petty concerns from Afy's mind. She did want to say goodbye and answer Joree's question. As a group - with the exception of Bebe who, perhaps wisely, was getting some sleep - they walked over to the statue one more time and beheld a new glow about the work or art.

"What's happening?" Mystir asked Joree.

"Scepter is setting, and the divine force that held me here, even allowed me to be held here, is seeping away. You can see it fading away now. I have only a few moments more," she told them, smiling once more.

Afyanna wondered once again if the knowledge that she would die would have changed her actions? How could it not? Everyone sought to preserve his or her own life.

But Joree's question was deeper than that.

"About your question, Joree. If Corellon Larethian saw fit to place me in a situation where my death would assure victory, or if it would allow others to live, then yes - yes I would do it."

A sly smile spread across Joree's face. "And what if the result were failure?" she asked.

Afyanna chewed on her lip while she pondered the holy warrior's question. Winning the quest was one thing, but losing and still dying was the hard question.

She had learned much in her short time on this quest. Before, she would have charged headlong into death shouting the name of Corellon Larethian. But she had learned to temper her enthusiasm and to find alternative approaches. Even if those approaches involved retreat.

When she finally spoke, Afyanna chose her words carefully. "Foolishly throwing one's life away is an affront to the gods. As a Holy Warrior of Corellon Larethian, it is my duty to serve Him. In order to do the most good I must live to serve again. Therefore I would do my best to find a course of action to avoid death."

"But you would still choose not to do this again, even if it meant your death?" Joree asked.

"I would choose to find a solution that avoided my death," Afy replied. "But, should Corellon Larethian decide that my time on this plane was at an end, then I would go to it willingly, knowing that I have done my best in His name."

"You're avoiding the question, my dear sister. Of course if there were a possible alternative to self-sacrifice, you'd try to find it. That is your duty. But if your options ran dry, and the only course of action left were mutual destruction between you and your foe, and you KNEW you'd die, would you do it?"

"Reluctantly, but . . . yes. Yes, I would," Afyanna confessed. She felt she had it in her to make that choice.

"Well, my dear sister, I hope it never comes to that, of course, but it is good to know your heart on this. Joad may have need of you again in the years to come, but you have much to learn before then. I wish you well. And remember - live your life while pursuing excellence. Your life is not something that can wait."

Afyanna thought she understood what Joree meant, but only time would tell.

"It has been an honor meeting you all, and seeing you in action. And it gladdens my soul to know the courage of Larethian remains upon and within the land," she said, her voice growing weaker and thinner by the moment.

"It's happening now. I can feel it. I can feel the gentle call outward. I see it now, yes, I see it. It's beautiful."

Mystir watched in fascination, straining to hear Joree's last words while watching Scepter's last light dip below the horizon.

"I have to go now. My work is only truly beginning . . . Farewell, my friends . . . and remember always . . . Corellon Larethian is with you."

Then the statue at last stood completely still, a silent testament to what had happened so long ago, and to a few a stalwart reminder of how it had ended that day, and nothing more would come from it, forever more.

"She's gone," Afy whispered sadly. They all stood for a time in silent contemplation, and then Valin finally broke the silence.

"Morning will be in a few more hours. I suggest we get some rest; then in the morning we will pray for guidance. Horton? If you come with us, we will show you what you need to see and know, and we will lay Joree to rest tomorrow at the temple and in the catacombs. We'll probably depart directly for Hooktar shortly thereafter," he said solemnly.

All adjourned in silence to Horton's mansion, and the night passed quickly. Later, not one of them would be able to recall having had any dreams that night.

Most of them awoke to a pounding on the door, and the lovely delicious smells of something cooking. Bebe had returned with Brambles and was let in, and soon all followed their noses to the kitchen where they discovered Alana had been busy.

"I've got Bopper ready to head out," Bebe told them, while counting the berries in her hand that she had procured for a spell. "My, that smells good," she said, her gnomish appetite returning as she looked at Alana's handiwork.

They ate in silence, each one's thoughts remaining private, but all of them contemplating what recent events had meant to them. After breakfast, which was good, but quick, an hour was spent in prayer and study or quiet contemplation. Afterwards, some badly needed healing was distributed amongst the party members.

When they were ready, they took Horton to Moonstone Temple and showed him the entrance. All were amused at the old man's reaction to the illusionary facade, and the difficulty the elder was having passing it. He simply couldn't believe it wasn't real. But eventually, closing his eyes, and being distracted by Bramble's growl, he passed through.

Under the brilliant Continual Light, Bebe pointed out to Horton the racked bottles of wine that were in the pantry. The elder selected two and handed one each to Cosher and Alana, who had been watching nearby.

"Carry them gently," he admonished them. "These two should travel well enough. Try to keep them cork down in your packs."

Then to Bebe he handed three leather pouches.

"What are those?" Bebe inquired.

"In the darkest pouch there are five gems of great value. They should bring the churches' share. Please give them to Afyanna when she has more time. They should be in her keeping, and no other's. In the lighter pouches there are 27 lesser gems, about 100 GP each. You will find a mix of rubies, sapphires, emeralds, but mostly diamonds. And in the heaviest bag I counted out 63 PP and 45 GP. That's 3 gems, 7 PP and 5 for each of you," he told her.

"That's too much," Bebe responded, doing a bit of math in her head. "I only get half a share."

"Well, we all shared the bottle, did we not? So consider that one a present from Joad, too, with our thanks. It would be wrong of us not to reward you all equally for so valiant and selfless an effort such as yours. You have saved us - all of us - from ruin, and what's more, from death itself. We are forever in your debt," he said, smiling down on the gnome.

Afyanna, in the meantime, was attending to Joree's remains. Using a couple poles and a stretch of canvas - and when all were ready - they bore her remains on a make shift stretcher through the long corridor that led down to the catacombs.

Horton was amazed and felt lost as they traveled, all the while marveling at what had been so close but unknown to him for decades. Once they opened the secret door to the catacombs, however, he immediately got his bearings and led them to a spot that he proclaimed suitable for Joree's remains.

"She'll rest here," he said at last. "As far as I could make out, this area was for the upper class of Wrath all those centuries ago. It is a place of honor," he added, bowing his head.

Afyanna felt a bit out of her depth, and she secretly wished there was a high priest to officiate the ceremony, but she was all there was. But then who better to lay to rest a holy warrior but another of the same order? Joree would have wanted it that way.

Half an hour later, having completed her solemn ritual, they all once again found themselves back at the temple.

"I'll be heading back to Joad now. I can make my own way home, thanks. You'll be going to Hooktar?" Horton asked.

"Yes," Valin said, "we will inform the sheriff and your people that the foul beast is dead and that it is safe to return home once more."

*After we're done here, anyway,* he thought.

Satisfied, Horton bid them all farewell and departed the temple. Then they were alone once more.

"So, are we ready to go?" Valin asked everyone. "Or is there something more we need to do?" he wondered.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe's Discovery.

Sef had found the underground complex claustrophobic and uncomfortable once again, and he was quite glad to be in the open, spacious temple area once more.

Now that the nightmare had been vanquished, the whole of Orlantia was open to them to explore. A few, however, knew that some unfinished business remained.

"Well, judging by the speed some of us are still walking, I think we should attend to our remaining injuries before we go much further," he began.

"Can I second that?" replied Mystir, the memory of the nightmare's attack still fresh in his mind. He looked out of breath already.

Even after the round of spells after breakfast, and Bebe's Goodberries, some of them still favored a leg or an arm or a foot.

"Alana and I can rest here again, within the temple. The rest of you can look around some more if you wish," Afyanna told them. The benefit of holy ground would again aid them in their rapid recovery, and most of them wanted a better look around the temple, now that they weren't so concerned about the imminent danger of some known monster in the area.

Within the main temple there remained the body of the Timber. The bare branches threw up ghostly shadows from the Continual Light rock, almost reincarnating the fell creature onto the walls of the temple. Sef shuddered; their mutual dance with death as he had struck the creature and received a near mortal blow in return would remain with him forever. Curious, and with a surplus of the spell in the party, he decided to cast his Detect Magic spell so that he might look upon the awful thing, and perhaps upon the altar as well, for what Mystir had described earlier to him sounded fascinating, so after a quick warning of the spell, he cast it.

"Hey, there's something glowing yet on this Timber," he told them. It was faint and hard to discern next the light coming from the altar, but it was there - and localized.

He took Alonwë and removed the long, glowing section from the trunk of the tree, hoping that the wood might be good enough to fashion something, or be worth something to someone. If nothing else, it might serve as a reminder of the awful monster. He didn't want to forget his opponent just yet. He also took a few straight branches to make some arrows, but they did not appear to be remarkable in any fashion other than straight.

"Well then," offered Cosher, "Ah guess we'd better start searching' fer things eh?"

"Oh no need. I've already done that," offered Bebe. There was a pause.

"Well then? What did you find?" asked the ranger. He was glad that he didn't have to spend a long time looking around the temple, but his tone sounded a little more abrupt. Who knew what the gnome had discovered? His face dropped as she first proffered the tomes as a reply, but then dug further into her pack.

"Just a few musty tomes, but there's this, too," she said, showing them the silver service. "That should be worth something, and since it's probably an antique, who knows, maybe a lot."

Wyn, of course, liked to do things for himself. He didn't know how competent Bebe's search had been, so he set off to have a careful look around for himself.

- Justin (Sefarlain) and - JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Silver Service?

Sef's heart fell a little as he surveyed the books and silver service that Bebe had uncovered. In his wildest imaginations, he had hoped they would find a vast array of gems and hidden gold, but forgetting the light rock and dagger for a moment, he couldn't help but feel that the rest of their findings were a bit mundane.

He looked quickly at the three books that Bebe held and decided to have a closer look at Anlashok's research into the elves of Wrath. His Detect Magic was still working, though it revealed nothing magical about them at all, which was pretty much what he expected, though it did still disappoint him.

"Maybe we should get this silver service looked at by a silversmith? It may be worth something to a collector of such items," the ranger proffered. "And these two books should be appraised by some expert as well - though I can see they are not magic. But I might still first have a look at this one book myself," he said, picking up the tome and waving Anlashok's journal in the air so all would know he had it in his keeping.

Sef wondered why some humans would pay vast arrays of money for older things, like an antique silver service, when the beauty of something new or old seemed all that was important. It had been just as beautiful when it was new, hadn't it? How did great age add to its value? He didn't understand humans, and he failed to understand their reasoning along those lines. But information from long ago might be worth something, and he highly valued the journal that might describe where the elves had traveled to all those years ago? Of course, once he had read it and had the information, the book itself would hold little value for him. It was the information that was important to Sef.

*At least I'll have something to occupy me on the way back,* he mused, as he readied himself to leave, putting Anlashok's journal about Wrath into his pack for later perusal.

- Justin (Sefarlain) and - JimGM

PBEM Orlantia: The Journey Ahead.

Yesterday had been tough. Mystir had taken quite a beating and was closer to death than he had even been before. But he survived - they had all survived.

He recovered his dagger and ruined staff, and searched for his bullets. Then he slept. With morning came the boy's meditation and prayer. With the danger behind him, the wizard opted for more convenient spells.

He also asked a favor of Tyrulf, and the dwarf quickly agreed to help. In fact, he seemed to take pleasure in the task. Mystir recalled a smile cross the stout man's face as his axe made quick work of the timber. Moments later the halfelf had a decent-sized chunk of wood. It was nothing magical - like that which Sef had foraged - but Mystir figured it would make a nice piece of jewelry or a headpiece for a new staff.

"Well," he asked of the others, "are we ready for the journey ahead?"

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: A Different Path For Some.

Wyn had a casual look around the temple and the priest's private quarters, but knowing Bebe had already gone through the place, his heart wasn't in it. Eventually, he gave up, deciding he'd much rather relax and meditate some more after their recent ordeal, and so he found a quiet spot and settled down for the night, never knowing what he might have missed.

Many of the others felt the same way. They had accomplished what they had set out to do. No one could deny their victory. And they had taken everything of value that was readily apparent, not that there was much there of any intrinsic value. So they all pretty much took it easy that night while pondering the road ahead.

In the morning, after another quick breakfast - not as good as the last one back at Horton's mansion - they began to divvy up their load. Of particular concern was the silver service. It was not exactly light.

Heavy silver plates and saucers, cups, chalices, forks, knives, spoons, a creamer and teapot, and some other odds and ends, all made of silver, hardly was light as a feather.

"This all must weigh at least 50 pounds," Bebe hissed, knowing she could never carry it all on such a long journey. "And it can't be humped out of here in some bag, either. Not if we want to keep it undamaged."

"So, what do you suggests?" Valin asked.

"Well, each of us can carefully pack some of it in our packs - you know - to distribute the weight."

"Nae, lass, we kin pack et carefully an' let our wee mule, Bopper, carry et fer us," Cosh suggested. And so that is what they did.

It was less than half an hour later that they were all once again on the open road, retracing their steps back out of Joad, and back toward Hooktar, leaving the perish of Wrath behind them. If any of them would return one day, they were not sure, but more than one of them felt that they would, at some time, for some reason, see the place again before their travels were finally done.

Thankfully the days had grown warmer, and it finally looked like winter had gone for good for the coming year. The land was returning to life, and with it, animals were awakening to a new season.

After having foraged a bit during a fifteen-minute break, Bebe said, "The winter has been hard on the land. Particularly hard. I think food might be a problem for many this year."

"Why so?" Afy questioned the druid, not quite believing what she heard, given her own assessment of their surroundings.

"No, she's right," Alana chimed in, having just returned from her own bit of foraging. "It's nothing unusual - just part of a great cycle - can't you feel it?" she asked. Bebe nodded, but no one else seemed to know of what she spoke. "Crops and harvests, and the land itself, will yield a little less than normal this year. Food will be tight for many."

"People will be starving?" Valin inquired.

"Well, no, not people so much. People store enough grain for lean times. Bread will cost more, that's all. But a lot of animals will go hungry this year. A lot of them will starve."

"Is there anything we can do?" Sef wanted to know, for he did have a greater than normal concern for the land and its animals.

"Not really - not on this scale. But we can always thin out the pack, so to speak. Hunt more," Alana said, when he looked puzzled.

"Because the land is less productive?" he wondered, looking around, not quite getting it since all seemed perfectly well to his elven eyes.

"It'll only marginally be less than normal, but that's not the real problem," Alana told him.

"Nope, it's the animals," Bebe stepped in. "There'll be higher numbers of them this year - a greater birth rate - millions of extra mouths to feed - and a little less food for all of them, to boot. It won't be pretty this year."

"The animals bred more? Why? I mean, how do you know?" Mystir asked, curiosity always consuming him.

"It's a cycle, a great cycle, ups and downs, highs and lows. It's not quite the same for the forest animals, but people are like that too. You'll probably notice more babies have been born, or will be born, than normal for this time of year. Long winter nights, uncertain times ahead, clinging to one another in their warm winter dens. After all, there was little else to do," Alana smiled slyly, and Bebe giggled a little.

"Ah, so more mouths, plus a bit less food, equals disaster," Mystir said, putting the equation forth for all to ponder. He'd never be quite certain how the pair of druids came up with the numbers, but once they had them, any fool could see the sum total of things.

No one said anything more for a few minutes, until Afy finally took the lead. She had a way of keeping them all on track. One might wonder, now that her claim of quest leader no longer really held, who, if anyone else, might rise to spearhead the party.

"Well, nothing we can do here," the holy warrior told them, "but it'll be wise, then, for Sef and the other hunters to take down something big if they can. We can afford to spend a day restoring our supplies, thin out the pack, and get a filling meal all at once. So let's walk," she ordered. And so they did.

Night soon came, for Hooktar was two days' travel from Joad, and Sef called a halt to the day's journey. He had earlier seen where a great many people had recently camped - a poor job of it they had done, too. The refugees from Joad hadn't traveled as far as they had in a day, so they left that scene behind and were several hours beyond it by the time Sef had had enough. And he found a better campsite as well.

They spent the night talking about the future, and how their individual plans would take them apart for a time, but most agreed they would meet back at Alodar, or Handor, or even Alderami, when all had finished their personal business. They had time yet to finalize that decision.

"I won't be returning at this time," Valin announced to the group, stopping them all in their tracks with his surprising revelation.

"What? Why not?" many asked, or would have if Afy hadn't beaten them to it.

"It's a personal decision," he said. "But mostly is has to do with my family, or family in general, and my duties in the church, and a few other things. I just don't feel the time is right for . . . for . . . for this sort of thing. Not for me. Not now. Later, yeah, I could see doing exactly this. But not now."

The cleric did worry deeply about what might happen to his family if he might die, and with villains from their past still possibly looking for them, to kill them, to keep them silent, it was a great risk. His mother and sister would be defenseless. He just didn't feel he had the right to risk their lives too. His own, well, that was fine, but his family's? No. More time would have to pass before he was certain they had escaped his murdered father's enemies. But he did not wish to reveal all that to his comrades. It wasn't their problem, and he honestly didn't feel they could offer any reasonable solution for it, either. They weren't about to sign up as personal guards for his family for the next few years. And seeing as how his enemies weren't even on Orlantia, they couldn't afford to go after them. Yet Valin knew that at any time his family's enemies or their agents might track them to Orlantia. He had to be ready, and near home. An adventurer's life on the open road often didn't have either of those things.

And there was Felina Fenimore. The druid's references to loving couples in winter dens had again started him thinking about the shopkeeper he had recently met. Maybe he wanted a family of his own, too. That first, before all . . . this.

"Sorry, but I've made up my mind, and my reasons are my own. I'll be staying in Tarren upon our return. It's nothing personal about any of you," he assured them. "You've all been great. I couldn't have asked for better traveling companions. But when it comes right down to it, I think there are other things I'd rather be doing right now. And I'm more a city boy, too. Temples and people, busy streets, and a warm bed at night. I know, I know. It might seem trivial, but all considered, I think it's the best thing for me - at least for now."

The feeling of abandonment, or change, or uncertainty crept over the group. It was not a good feeling for any of them. Valin's contributions to the group had been invaluable. How would they fair without his wisdom? It made them all worry a little bit more about the future.

"Aye too," Cosher started. "Yer all so hot on gettin' out thar agin, takin' no time fer yerselves tae spend at home with yer loved ones. Ah mean, it's fine fer some, but Ah know Ah'd be wantin' tae spend far more time than ya all seem tae be plannin' tae spend at home. Maybe inna year, or maybe even two, Ah'll be longin' fer the road agin, or the open sea, but not so soon as the rest of ya seem to be hankering fer," the bard confessed his feelings on the matter. "Ah'm happy we bested the beastie and save all them people, but et's enough fer a wee spell."

Of course, before all this had befallen the sea dwarf, he had just been coming off a sea voyage that had been over a year long, so in truth he had been gone from home a lot longer than any of them had been. It was time for his return home.

"Anyone else?" Afy asked. "It'll help our plans to know if anyone else is leaving."

"Well, I'm not exactly sure yet," Wyn said. "I'm still thinking about it. Sorry, but I don't live my life like that. For me, it's one day at a time. But for now, anyway, I'm planning on staying with you."

The night passed quietly, everyone having something new to think about.

In the morning, they reach Hooktar in good time, and, luckily, Sef felled a buck just outside of town. He was happy it had been a buck and not a doe, for he didn't want to leave any fawns to starve to death. So, in order to process the venison more efficiently, they set up camp outside of town, raising their pavilion (which probably would be staying with Valin, since it belonged to his temple) and setting to work cutting and drying the meat. but Alana's work demanded far more salt than she had, so Afyanna and Sefarlain ventured into town to get some. A few others went with them, but others stayed in camp to help Alana with the work.

Since the trail the refugees left led straight into town, it was safe to assume they had reached their destination without incident. And once inside the city limits, they discovered the town was abuzz with news of the horrible creature that was making its home in Joad. It seemed part of the story was already out.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: On The Road From Joad

For most of the journey to Hooktar, Bebe had sat cross-legged on Bopper while reading 'The History of Wrath, Purplish and Valentee'. She found little use of the other poetry books, and just scanned them quickly out of curiosity. *At least history is interesting,* she had thought, *if only to pass the time.*

She had listened to the rest of the party make decisions on their future. A couple seemed only to sign on for this one adventure, and decided to cut out now that it was over. Bebe also signed on only until the abomination inflicting the land was eliminated. Now, with nowhere else to go, she just decided to hang around until something else might pop up.

Anyway, they seemed to be heading in the direction she wanted to go, which was kind of convenient.

Once they finally arrived in Hooktar, since she was not overly fond of cities, and since that one was full of refugees, she decided to stay in camp and help cure the venison. Brambles was also helping with the food supply by dragging in an occasional gopher or opossum, though mostly she took away the scraps Alana tossed her way.

Some of the party looked kind of disgusted at the skinned opossum, but Bebe and Brambles found that it made tasty barbecue for their lunch.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: The Subject Of Much Interest.

Sef and Afyanna wandered into Hooktar where it was becoming increasingly obvious that the townsfolk of Joad had indeed made it to the town as well, judging by the stares and whispers that followed the pair.

"You'd have thought they'd have been pleased to see us," murmured the elf, before realizing that because Horton and the others had stayed behind in the village, nobody there knew the outcome of the battle.

"First stop should be the sheriff's office," stated Afyanna. "I can't wait to see the look on his face. But don't forget our story. Be careful with what we say . . . or rather, don't say."

"Fine," agreed Sef, and as an afterthought whispered, "but can we make a slightly less dramatic entrance this time?" The ranger remembered the storming of the office and didn't want a repeat episode.

The two armed strangers climbed the few steps and walked into the sheriff's office once again, this time knocking first, just in case.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Wild Rumors

Both Sef and Afyanna felt slightly uneasy walking through the town once again. It seemed like an age ago that they had been attacked in the streets of Hooktar, and the memory of that night would live with all of them for a long time to come.

In the daylight with so many more people on the streets, the town had a very different feel to it. For one, the pair was now the subject of much speculation. Glances and whispers followed the pair through the streets until they arrived at the sheriff's office once more. Sefarlain thought he recognized one or two of the townsfolk from Joad, but it was difficult to be certain. All they saw carried a look of fear and trepidation across their faces.

"They all look so afraid," began Afyanna. " I'd love to reassure them all. However, I think we'd better speak with the sheriff first," she continued, and moved towards the door.

"As long as we don't repeat our last entrance," whispered the elf, to himself as much as anyone else.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: The Short, The Sweet, And The Salty.

Once inside the two story red brick building, Sef and Afy immediately spotted Baledun - the man who had led the refugees to Hooktar. He was speaking to Ackermann, the sheriff, when Baledun looked up at their arrival and let out a small gasp.

"You . . . you're . . . you're here. You're alive?" he stammered, the question obviously a stupid one since any fool could see they had survived.

"Yes, Baledun, is it? We live, which is more than I can say for that hell spawn of a horse," Afy told him cheerfully, trying to lighten the somber mood that pervaded the sheriff's office.

"It's dead?" he asked again. "Really? You killed it?" he asked again and again, hardly believing the facts.

"Yes, it's dead. Joad is safe, and you can all return home - though one might think you'd first lay in some supplies to re-provision your town until you can get back on your feet," Sef suggested.

Ackermann just stared for a time, then looked back at his pin filled map, then once again toward Afyanna. Finally, a broad grin crossed his face.

"Well, if they don't beat all," he stated. "You were right. And you took care of the problem too, all by yourselves. SERGEANT!" he barked. A heavyset woman in chainmail entered from the other room.

"Go tell the lieutenant there'll be no need to muster those men. Looks like the work is already done. And spread the word far and wide while you're at it - the beast is dead," he laughed.

The sergeant looked doubtful. "Are you sure, sir? I mean, can you trust them? Maybe they just ran and are claiming victory," she whispered, just barely loud enough for Sef to hear, though Afy missed it.

"Not at all," interjected Baledun, who had been listening. "This is a Holy Warrior of Corellon Larethian. If she says they defeated the creature, you can rest assured, it's dead."

The sheriff motioned her to go again, and this time she obediently left the office to deliver her messages. A few more chainmail-clad men came into the room and stood attentively, listening to the news.

"Well, that's a load off my mind. I felt certain I'd never see you alive again, miss, after Baledun confirmed what you were all up against. I've never been so glad to have been as wrong as that before in all my life," Ackermann chuckled, reaching into a side drawer as he said so. He quickly produced a half empty bottle, pessimist that he was, and yanked the cork out. A few coffee mugs were pointed out and the whisky begin to be poured into the waiting receptacles.

"A drink then, to the demise of the evil thing, and a brighter year for all ahead," he said, raising his mug.

Somehow mugs, each containing a shot of whiskey, found their way into the hands of Afyanna and Sefarlain. Seven people in the office quickly polished off the half bottle, as more than a few asked for the tale of what had happened.

Half an hour later, after carefully rendering their well-crafted tale a couple time, and answering a few questions, and with at least one shot in each of them for good manners, the pair left the red brick building and found themselves once again on the street.

Already the tone of the place has changed. The news was spreading. The beast was dead.

"Did you hear?" a passing man asked Afy, whom she had never seen before. "They killed that foul creature that's been marauding over the countryside. Isn't it wonderful?" he asked rhetorically, as he moved on to the next group of people to tell the good news.

"Well, that was easy," Sef said, looking at Afy. "Even if it was somewhat . . . anticlimactic. So . . . salt?" he inquired.

"I guess," she replied.

Nothing could have been simpler, and 5 SP lighter, though 5 pounds of salt heavier, the pair was soon back at camp - an impatient Alana relieving them of their newly acquired burden the moment they arrived.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: A Pocketful Of Change

Perhaps it was the novelty that made him so self-conscious, but Sefarlain felt very aware of the fact that he had more wealth on him than he had ever had in his entire life. Compared to his previous existence he was now positively overflowing with money, but the ranger was aware of how little that really mattered.

*At least I can buy a decent bow at last,* he pondered as he wandered back to camp with Afyanna and the bag of salt. Perhaps there were benefits to a bit of money? He would certainly need some to reimburse his uncle for some of the spell components, inks, and paper he had used, and would no doubt continue to use. And now he had been away from the Valantaúr for such a while he would have to fund some of his further training himself. It had been 'free' while he was on active service, but members who from time to time followed their own paths were always expected to help out in whatever way they could. Maybe he wasn't as rich as he thought?

Once the pair returned to camp, Sef decided to ask Mystir and the others what their intentions were regarding the money they had acquired.

"Why don't we wait until we have some idea what we'll get for the items that Bebe found in the Temple, and then we can do one calculation rather than several?" suggested Mystir.

Sef nodded. "Fine. I'll keep note of what I owe the party and we can all sit down and settle up when that's done."

Doubtlessly it was a bit of a burden for everyone to keep track of such things - bookkeeping was not their first calling - but it was almost second nature to Mystir, as most anything to do with numbers was. It would be far easier for Mystir to keep track of what everybody owed, and to whom they owed it, and when the time was right, to remind them of their economic obligations. Mystir felt a sense of pride at the trust his newfound friends were placing in him - but he was also keenly aware the heavy responsibility it placed upon him as well.

- Justin (Sefarlain) and - JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Fecklar Again.

The venison of an entire buck would see them through for quite some time. It had taken all day and then some, but between the sun drying, the smoking, and the curing, they had enough meet for weeks when used as a supplement to the other foods they would continue to gather. Alana knew an awful lot of things concerning one of her many arts. Even Sef, a hundred year veteran of living off the land, was impressed with the way Alana had dug a hole and set a smoking hardwood fire inside it, vented it, and enclosed it with a tent of branches and leaves. It didn't look pretty, but it sure did the job.

And the bone, sinew, and especially the hide had been taken as well. There was little waste - and counting what Brambles wolfed down, even less. In all, they barely left a stain on the forest floor.

Two days later, the Elowin River was at last in sight, and soon, Fecklar itself was on the horizon. Alana knew the area well - it had been the Lovejoy's home, and her home away from home for some time.

"I'd rather avoid town, if you don't mind," Alana told them. "But I think we should visit the Lovejoys, my dead friends. I'd love to tell them they have been avenged."

"That sounds fine, "Afyanna agreed with her, "but I think I'll make a quick trip into Fecklar just to let the authorities there know that hell horse is dead. A quick stop at the Blue Raccoon and the word will naturally spread out from there. Afterwards, we'll meet up back at . . . at . . ."

"At the Lovejoy's graves," Alana finished the holy warrior's thought.

"Yes. Anyone wishing a drink or a bath at the Raccoon, now's the time," she told them all.

Alana knew of a place to bathe near the Lovejoy's burnt down cabin, a small creek, but she said nothing for two reasons. Firstly, it would be pretty cold - far colder than even the cold water bathhouse at the Blue Raccoon - and she doubted most of them - toughened warriors though they were - would welcome such an icy bath, and secondly, she wanted some solitude.

"Then we'll meet you there," Afyanna said.

Cosher and Valin decided to stay with Alana and set up camp near the cabin.

"Bopper and we two laddies will take yer gear fer ya, if ye dinnea wish tae lug it aroun' with ya," Cosher offered, and much gear was passed over to the two men, or hurriedly strapped onto the mule.

The camp was pitched and the Rogue of Hermes and the Fiadharainn sea dwarf settled down for the night. Alana found her solitude, and the others . . .

The Blue Raccoon was much as they remembered it, except this time it was warmer, and they weren't so worried about what lay ahead. It did put a different perspective on things.

Afyanna and the others entered to see old Bob Pratcher tending the fire, and though they never caught the name of the barkeep, the same man was behind the bar.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Spiced Tea And Clean Water.

The sights and sounds of the Blue Raccoon reminded Mystir of home. Of course, every inn he stepped into did the same - so far - but it was a welcome feeling. The boy stepped across the common room and up to the bar.

"Can I get some spiced cider tea?" he asked.

"Of course," was the barkeeper's quick response. "Want anything in it?" he then asked with a grin, holding up a bottle of clear liquid - probably the barkeep's own choice for such additives.

"No, just the tea, thank you," Mystir told him. The barkeep cocked his head sideways, but then put the bottle back.

Each mug only cost 1 SP without any alcohol in it - 2 SP and 5 with - but Mystir didn't feel like drinking anything strong just then, so the barkeep didn't make that sale.

Moments later the halfelf was sipping warm apple-cider tea. He was quickly joined by the rest of the group, most of which were ordering for themselves.

"Well," Mystir said, directing his speech towards the party. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I think I'll be cleaning up this evening."

"Yes," Afyanna added, "that sounds like a good idea."

The boy called the barkeep over again and asked about the building's facilities and ordered another drink. After handing over 5 silver coins in total for all, he set off to bathe carrying his second mug of tea with him.

The Raccoon's facilities were not impressive; just a cold water tub and several basins - fairly clean - and a clean towel for 3 SP. And, with the hanging curtains for partitions in that back room, a bit of privacy. That was it. They didn't compare to Mystir's home inn, The Swollen Banks, where there was actually hot water to be had. Yet they were far better than many taverns - particularly roadside taverns that'd be lucky to have more than a washbasin. Mystir wasn't complaining, though. He welcomed any chance to get the trail's sludge off him and relax with a nice drink or two.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Quiet Evening, Noisy Room.

"I'll have some wine," added Febriwyn.

Mystir turned to look at the one who had spoken next to him and flashed a smile at his elven companion. Febriwyn returned the smile and slipped a hand to the change purse that hung within the confines of his cloak.

As quickly as their eyes met, they parted ways and Febriwyn's eyes lazily followed the barkeep's well-practiced movements. A short moment later, wine and silver changed owners and Febriwyn slipped from the party to sit outside and drink his wine.

The air outside still hinted a chill, but the sky was clear and the night young; Wyn didn't mind it at all. *It's a rather pleasant reminder of being alive,* thought Febriwyn, rubbing his hand over his right hip. It had still been sore when they left Joad, still slightly bruised purple at the time, and though the injury was fully healed after so many days of travel, he still rubbed his hip at the memory of the pain; it had been awful. Yet, considering the beast . . . Febriwyn was amazed only his hip had been hurt.

With a drink in his hand and more gold in his pocket than he'd ever seen before, a pleasing evening was unavoidable.

- Febriwyn (Brandon)

PBEM Orlantia: Getting The Word Out.

The inn was much as Afyanna remembered it, with the same barkeep standing behind the immaculately polished counter, always busying himself with minor tasks so that he would never be too engrossed to notice a customer. He had even flashed Afy and the others a smile when they entered. He seemed surprised at first, but a flicker of recognition quickly replaced it.

*There aren't often new faces in town, at least this early in the year,* Afyanna surmised.

The holy warrior had only been in the Blue Raccoon once before, but even she noticed that things had changed little. The same two scruffy men played at cards at a table near the center of the room. At a corner table, a group of three men were in a heated debate over something that she couldn't hear. For all she could tell, they had never left from the time of her previous visit. The same serving girls wove between the closely spaced tables. Each had adopted a certain dance as she moved, always able to avoid the odd hand that darted out for a quick paw. A squeal, a slap, and an outburst of laughter announced when one of the girls had let her attention waver.

Small towns and local bars were usually like that, Afyanna knew. There were routines and people who seemed to always be in residence. Locals knew which seats were public and which were 'taken.' A smart outsider knew to wait to be pointed to a seat.

Afyanna stepped up to the bar and waited for the bartender to approach. In no more time that it took for her to scan the room, he appeared on the opposite side of the varnished counter.

"What can I get for you?" he asked with a toothy smile.

"Hmmmm . . . How about hot spiced cider?" she replied with a small smile of her own. She had eaten well those last few days, thanks to Alana and Sefarlain's skills, but she had dearly missed the sweet taste of cider, and warm cider, to boot!

The barkeep darted off and reappeared shortly with a mug of steaming liquid. She held the large stoneware mug between her two hands and savored the sweet aroma before taking a sip. Her taste buds sprang to life after weeks of warm, stale water and little more. Heavens! Afyanna sighed deeply and felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders.

The barkeep barely contained his laugh. "Been a while?"

Afy merely nodded. "Not since the last time I was here, actually."

The man peered at her and thought for a moment. "Thirteen days back, am I right?"

*He's good,* she thought. But then again a wise businessman knew his customers. What's more, his routine was probably so fixed that anything out of the ordinary would not only stick in his mind, but the exact day it had occurred would also, particularly if something had happened during a weekly chore so the two would be associated with one another. If that had been the case, it would have almost been hard to forget, now that she thought about it. Still, he had remembered her, and that was a mark of a good barkeep.

"That's quite impressive that you remembered me."

"You were among the first new faces I'd seen this year after winter broke," he answered. "Though there was a nasty storm soon after you left. I'm glad you didn't get caught out in that one, I am."

Afyanna shuddered at the thought and took another sip of her cider. "Actually, we did get caught outside in it."

"You seem none the worse for it," he answered, a surprised look on his face, for he knew how deadly that storm had been. And his concern appeared genuine. No doubt he knew full well how bad the weather could get in those parts, and had heard tell of more than one local who had died from exposure.

"We all made it, thanks be to Corellon Larethian," she said, her fingertips brushing the silver crescent hanging from her neck.

"Will you be in town long?".

"Unfortunately, no," she replied, taking another sip. "We're on our way home, actually, and are just passing through again."

"That's too bad," he said.

"Aye, it is," she agreed. "But it's also time to head home. I've been away for too long, I think."

The barkeep nodded. "What brought you out this way - if you don't mind me asking?" Conversation was one thing, but he didn't want to appear nosey.

"Oh it's all right," she replied. "We were just heading up towards Hooktar to investigate all the disturbances in those parts."

The expression on his face turned serious. He knew something of what she spoke. "And? What did you find?"

"Let's just say . . . it's over now. The problem has been . . . solved," Afyanna said, smiling as she raised the mug to her lips once again.

"Bet there's a tale and half to that," he winked, looking expectantly at her as he topped off her cider.

"Well, there is, but you know. It's not the same until a bard gets it and rewrites it and makes it sound so much more exciting and dangerous than it really was. I'm just glad the locals are safe to enjoy the new year," she winked back, taking a sip of her cider.

The barkeep took another look at the woman across the bar. His eyes then darted over to Mystir, Febriwyn, and Sefarlain, and he seemed to reappraise them, as well.

Somewhere in the recesses of the barkeep's mind Afy could almost see the wheels turning over the fantastic tales of bardic lore he had heard countless times in his profession. The gods only knew what he had been led to believe about those dangerous few, those so-called 'adventurers.' Whatever it was, though, the barkeep seemed to perceive Afyanna was done speaking about it, and to press the matter might invite far more trouble than he'd ever care to personally witness.

"Was . . . Was there anything else you wanted?"

"Actually yes," she replied. "I'd like a bath. A hot one, please."

"Oh, I'm sorry there, Protector, but we only have a cold water bath here," he explained, looking sincerely apologetic as he summoned one of the maids.

Afy was a bit disappointed, but let it pass since she was more curious about what he had just called her - Protector - for it was one of the proper, if esoteric terms one might apply to a holy warrior. In fact, it did her honor, suggesting a bit more prestige in her order than she actually yet merited. It was probably a trivial matter, where a barkeep had heard such a term, and it might have even been an accident, for the term was intuitively descriptive of what she had just done. But before she could ask him anything about it, he was down the bar serving another customer.

"Miss, this way to the baths," the maid told her. Afy followed, taking her mug of cider with her.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Taking A Break.

Bebe hadn't decided what her next move should be, so she decided to wait and see what the others would do. Taking a seat off to the side of the room, the gnome sipped at a mug of ale while trying to catch snippets of local conversation. The ale was a little bitter for her taste, but washed the dust of the trail down nicely.

Sadly, nothing she heard piqued her interest, save the floating murmurs she heard that echoed what Afyanna had told the barkeep. The word was already beginning to spread.

Not really interested in the other goings on of the city, Bebe finally decided to keep company with Bopper rather than watch the humdrum of civilization trot by, so she returned to camp. When she arrived, her wolf was not there to greet her, as expected, but was apparently off hunting.

*I wonder what Brambles is up to,* she thought in idle speculation, but then began to daydream about running barefoot through the summer forest in the shining light of Ehlonna's glory.

- Shelly (Bebe)