 
The Forging of the Ring

Short Stories By

Cassidy Raine Wolters, Jon Flushing, Doug Ward, Jerry Clark, B.C. Richards, Leonard Herrington, Scott Lee, April Ward

Copyright 2018

Cassidy Raine Wolters, Jon Flushing, Doug Ward, Jerry Clark, B.C. Richards, Leonard Herrington, Scott Lee, April Ward

Smashwords Edition

Introduction

There is a burning desire within us all that wants us to be more than we ever thought we could be. Bigger, stronger, and more confident in our abilities than we ever thought possible. What if all of those possibilities were literally at your fingertips? The Forging of the Ring is a series of epic tales that allow us to do exactly that. Follow the ring as it makes its journey from mystical lands on the hands of heroes and villains alike battling monsters and creating the fine line between good and evil. A little luck can lead to a great deal of adventure...

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers' imaginations or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Other fine books by these authors include;

Tome of Terror

Contents

The Forging of the Ring By Doug Ward

The Identity of the Ring By Jerry Clark

Reborn By Leonard Herrington

The Ring Goes Missing By Scott Lee

A Tune in a Minor Key By Cassidy Raine Wolters

The Ancient Oak By April Ward

Friends and Foes By B.C. Richards

Idiots Find the Ring By Scott Lee

Even My Bones Ache By Doug Ward

The Last Hope By Jon Flushing

Fool Circle By Leonard Herrington

About The Authors

Let the stories begin.

The Forging of the Ring

By Doug Ward

The ogre's massive shoulders strained under the weight of the giant bellows as he pumped them up and down to heat the forge. The result forced powerful bursts of air into the coals super-heating them to a temperature akin to lava.

Grumpf eyed the other two beings in the blacksmith's cavern with hate and suspicion as he methodically pumped the upper handle the other being fixed to the floor. At ten feet, the ogre had to stretch to reach the apex of the bellow's handle. It made the beast wonder who had worked the mechanism before he wound up in the dwarf's charge.

The object on the anvil was a ring. It wasn't very ornate. It was a simple band of gold that grew thicker toward the front where a flat bezel was affixed. The ring was by no means a work of art but it was beautiful in its simplicity. Even a creature as crude as the ogre could appreciate the exquisite token being made.

Darius, the dwarven smithy, was more at home forging weapons and armor. His strong arms were singed from the effects of his many years of crafting at the anvil, butut even though the object of his current labor was small, the magic-laced in the token made every part of its creation a struggle.

Over the past week, Fazil the Conjurer stood by the diminutive smith's side, casting spell after spell into the glowing artifact. Even before the lump of precious ore was heated, the wizard had imbued it with powerful enchantments. Each time the hot metal was quenched; they didn't dip the ring in ordinary water. Instead, the ring was dunked into potions to seal the magic invested in the ring.

The two worked on their token in tandem. Fazil guided the creation with a stern, commanding voice with the smithy following his every word without hesitation.

For seven days the three labored with little rest and food. Both the mage and his craftsman's advanced years lay heavily on their features. The pair, drawn and exhausted, labored on at their task.

"More heat, you beast!" Darius barked at Grumpf while pushing the now cool ring into the coals.

The dwarf wiped a leather-gloved hand across his brow as Fazil placed an unsteady hand on his smaller companion's shoulder. The act was as much to reassure his friend, as it was to steady his weak and weary legs.

"It is nearly complete," the spell-caster said encouragingly. "This last spell will complete our creation. It has to be cast into the ring while it is nearly at its melting point."

The ogre worked the bellows furiously. He had no idea what they'd been fashioning but if it was about to be finished, he could finally get some rest.

Grumpf was just a young warrior when he'd been taken in battle. The dwarves had raided his warren and slain his mother all so they could expand their mining complex. He had fought hard but was laid low by one of their foul hammers. The next thing he knew he was in iron chains and lead off to this cavern, somewhere in the mountain home of his dwarven enemies.

At first, Grumpf refused to cooperate. Spurning meals and water in an effort to die. That was years ago. He now cooperated and acted as a willing slave all in order to survive. He'd grown strong during his labor in the forge. He even gained the dwarves trust, all in a facade to survive.

With a practiced eye, Darius saw that the circle of gold was ready. A nearly liquid shimmer danced across the red-hot surface of the ring signaling its condition. The smithy thrust the tongs into the coals and plucked the glowing token from the heat.

Setting the ring on the anvil the dwarf stepped back giving Fazil space to do the task. The wizard stepped forward and began to chant. His sleeves fell down his thin arms as he raised his arms in arcane gestures. Strange symbols began to glow from somewhere deep within the surface of the item as the enchanter's voice rose. Magical tendrils trailed from Fazil's fingers slowly filling the ring with power.

"Quench it! Now!" the mage commanded staggering back. "Then, set the stone with all haste."

Darius seized the ring in his tongs and dropped it into the nearby potion. The still-glowing object hissed as it struck the liquid's surface.

"We must be quick. When the stone is in place, we must seal the power before it can escape."

As Darius withdrew the ring from the blue potion he was amazed that it looked new. It was as if it had been buffed and polished to a high luster. Feint outlines of the arcane symbols still danced on the shimmering surface as he set a white opal into the bezel and began sealing its edges.

"Evil will rue the day this ring was forged," he mumbled with a wide grin.

At those words, Grumpf's eyes opened wide.

"Our work here will surely bring an end to all dark creatures who befoul our realm," the mage agreed. "Now, set it on the anvil and I will trap the magic inside."

As the pair tarried with the ring the huge ogre's mind struggled with the implications of such a token. The horror of a world overrun with good. The thought was terrifying.

The exhausted wizard started chanting when Grumpf sped into motion. Jumping forward the ogre rushed toward the mage. Darius, worn and tired from his work, was barely able to intercept his thrall, shouldering the ogre away from Fazil.

Younger and stronger, the ogre swatted his master out of his way and dealt the spell-caster a massive blow sending him hurtling onto the anvil.

There was a strange sucking sound as the man's chest flattened against the ring. A moment later and he was gone. Vanished from sight.

Grumpf stood stunned. The magic-user was gone. What had happened to him? As he pondered the question a hammer crashed into his shoulder.

Sparks of pain flashed before his eyes but the enormous brute shrugged off the pain and spun on his attacker, an arm hanging limply at his side.

"You want to play, you ungrateful brute!" Darius spat as he raised his hammer intimidatingly before him.

The rage Grumpf felt made him forget his injury. The indignities he'd endured at the hands of his captor rose to the surface. This wasn't a battle for himself. It was a struggle for all his kind. He couldn't let these fools loose such a powerful token upon the realm. With a feral growl, he raced toward his armed foe.

Darius was armed with a smith's hammer, not a war hammer. If it were the latter, he'd have stood a chance. All dwarves are trained as youths to fight with both war hammer and ax. But this was not a weapon. It was for forging weapons.

As Grumpf quickly closed the distance Darius swung downward. His fatigued limbs urging the hammer with all the power he could muster. It wasn't enough.

The blow glanced off of the monster's wounded shoulder and sent the weapon skittering off to a corner. With one arm useless, the ogre was still more than a match for the exhausted dwarf. They grappled on the floor, tumbling for a moment before there was a sickening snap.

The two lay in a heap for a moment before the larger of the two rose to his feet. Grumpf had won. He'd killed his master and now must flee.

Still wary of the wizard he searched the room. But the mage was gone. All that remained was the dwarf, his head lolling at an odd angle, and the ring.

He couldn't leave it. Snatching the token up, he made for the exit. On his way, he saw a weapons rack. With only one hand available he popped the ring in his mouth and snatched a battle ax from a weapon rack. As Grumpf flew to the door barring the way out, the weapon felt like a toy in his great hands but it was something.

Ogres aren't known for stealth and Grumpf was in a hurry so he forwent sneaking and sprinted through the halls in all abandon.

Behind him, he could hear calls of alarm. But they were too late. He threw himself into the exit door and burst into the light of day.

Having been a prisoner for most of his life he didn't know where to run but run he did. Anyplace was better than here. So he hurried straight out and away from the dwarven halls and down the side of the gently sloping mountain.

His chest was heaving like the bellows he once worked but he pushed on for many miles with the ring rolling around in his dry mouth. Twice, he almost swallowed the ring having to cough it back behind his jagged, brown teeth before hurrying on.

Ogres are powerfully built creatures. They were created to stand and fight. Spent from his long days at the forge and having run for miles, Grumpf finally reached his limits. He dropped heavily at the base of a tree and lay there struggling for air as the sounds of pursuit neared.

Before long, an armor covered dwarf appeared of the back on a pony. He was followed by four more as the five surrounded him drawing wicked-looking axes and hammers.

The tired ogre stood for what was to be his last stand. Measuring his foes he readied his ax in his good hand and crouched looking for an opening. Legs weak and quivering he saw one of the riders look at a companion and he sprang. Ax arching high through the air it bit deeply into his enemy's hip, just under his breastplate. With a startled cry of pain, the rider fell causing his pony to rear in fear. As the horse calliopes away the others fell on him. Smashing hammers and axes dealt him serious wounds his own ax slipping out of his hand sometime during the melee.

Then the ponies backed away leaving the ogre mortally wounded and bleeding out. As the four dropped from their mounts two rushed to their companion to administer aide while the others took up a position between them and the ogre.

On instinct, Grumpf crawled toward the large oak tree he'd rested near earlier. Its roots cradled his dying form. He was like a child in the embrace of his mother nearly unconscious in what would be a never-ending sleep.

"That brute killed him!" he heard one of the dwarves announce. "Blasted ogre nearly cut him in half. I hate those evil creatures!"

Those words made the ogre smile.

"We'll make them pay," another said. "We'll make them all pay!"

It was then, that he remembered the ring. The ring still clutched in his teeth. The ring that was the reason he'd risked and lost his life; the ring that would spell the doom of his and all other evil beings.

With another smile, Grumpf swallowed.

The Identity of the Ring

Jerry Clark

"Time out! Time out!" the coach yelled.

"Okay ladies, we are up by one and there are 15 seconds left in the game," said Spring City girls varsity basketball coach Mary-Kay Stills as her team clung to a lead in a game needed to clinch a playoff spot.

"Look, we have no fouls to give, but we have got to lock them down on defense," Stills said. "Be aggressive, but be smart."

"Coach, get your team on the floor!" the referee yelled into the huddle.

The Spring City Lady Volunteers put their hands together in the huddle, "One-two-three... Lady Vols," they shouted as the huddle broke.

As the players headed out to the floor, Stills grabbed the jersey of No. 12, junior forward Bri Johnson, "Look, kid, this is your time... bring it home."

Johnson looked her coach in the eyes, gave a smile and a subtle thumbs up as she trotted out to her block in an attempt to help the Spring City squad make the playoffs for the first time in 20 years.

Johnson transferred to Spring City halfway through her sophomore season and made an immediate impact on defense. Johnson was labeled a try-hard by her teammates. She was a very good player, but quiet, and not as confident in her abilities as her coach was in her. Because she always did what her coach told her to do, her teammates resented her a little, but Johnson's strong play kept them from being as mean to her as they sometimes wanted to be.

The whistle sounded and the ref handed the ball to the opposing Lady Raiders who inbounded the ball. The Lady Raiders knew they had to get the ball in, but had to avoid Johnson, who had thwarted several of their efforts on this particular evening. Just as Stills had suspected, the play was drawn up motioning away from Johnson. The Lady Raiders' guard caught the inbound pass, and with a nifty crossover dribble, she beat both Lady Volunteer players who converged on her. Johnson identified the breakdown, left the player she was guarding and lunged toward the player with the ball. The clock was ticking down, and Johnson's effort forced the opposition to lose control of the ball. Johnson knew if she could grab the ball, the game would be over. But, instead Johnson's aggressive play drew a whistle with 5 seconds left and the referee signaled a foul on Johnson, her first of the game.

Dejected, but still in the lead, the Lady Volunteers took their place around the paint and awaited the shots. The first shot fell, tying the game. Stills yelled from the bench, "Bri, rebound!" But, the second shot fell, and in a panicked rush, Emalia, the senior guard and leading scorer, grabbed the ball and inbounded it before Stills could send in a play. The pass was errant and time expired.

*****

"That's enough..." coach Stills yelled as the team bickered on the bench! "If it weren't for Bri, this game was over in the first quarter!"

Emalia stormed into the locker room.

The coach gathered herself. "Look ladies... we control our own destinies," Stills said. "We have our chance on Tuesday. Practice on Monday! Nobody do anything dumb this weekend!"

Stills left the gym, reminding the girls they still had the chance to make the playoffs for the first time since 1964. "I have to go. The gym is locked up from the outside," Stills said. "Hit the showers and let yourselves out."

The girls headed to the locker room, except for Bri, who just sat on the bench and replayed the last seconds of the game over and over in her head. "What if I had just let them score?" she thought. "At least we would have had a chance to set up a play at the end. What if they shot and missed? I could have secured that rebound!" As her teammates cleaned up and left the gym, most of them patted their teammate on the shoulder and told her to relax, and that they would take care of business on Tuesday.

When Bri thought everyone had left, she decided she better clean up and go.

The rusty shower water hit her face, but it was refreshing. It was as if it washed away the last hour of her life and promised better things ahead. She was not excited to leave, as she knew there was little to go home to. Her parents were divorced and her dad lived more than an hour away. Her mom was a partier, so the chances of her being home were nil.

When she finished up, Bri went to grab her towel... it was gone. "Crap," she mumbled to herself. "I must have left it in my locker."

Bri gingerly tiptoed out of the shower and into the locker room area. She noticed her towel was missing and so was every stitch of clothing from her locker. Her basketball bag was gone, too.

A wave of anger and sadness rushed over her. "That bitch!" Bri screamed, as she plopped down on the bench and put her head in her hands. "What am I going to do now? Nobody will be back in the building until Monday."

She had nothing to wear, nobody knew she was in trouble, and how was she going to get into her house even if she could somehow get there without being completely embarrassed?

Bri clenched her jaw and fists and rose from the bench. She stomped back into the shower area and with all her might, she tore the cloth shower curtain from the rusty pipe with one pull. Bri swung the curtain over her shoulder, pulled it tight around her waist, and tucked it back over her shoulder. She turned and gazed into the mirrors over the sink and got a half twisted grin on her face. "Beautiful," she mumbled as she rolled her eyes.

As cerebrally as she could, Bri poked her head out the locker room door and peered down each side of the hall. Bri hooked a left and scampered down the hall toward the weight room. "If I can get out the door behind the weight room and run along the woods, there is a pretty good chance I can get home and nobody will see me," Bri thought.

Perfect. She navigated her way down the hall, past the weight room and out the door. Because just a few streetlights were on, it was dark so Bri tiptoed along the edge of the woods. She was stepping on sticks and rocks and trying not to slip on the damp fall grass. The tumble down into the woods would be a substantial one.

Bri was making great time and was fortunate there was nobody around, and then she saw headlights.

*****

"Ugh!" Bri groaned as she squatted down on the edge of the road. "Unbelievable!"

Bri began to panic as the lights grew brighter. Should she run back the way she came, lie down and hope the car doesn't see or hit her... too late, the lights have come down over the slight hill and flashed directly on her.

Bri stood up and at the last second opted to tread lightly down the steep hill adjacent to the road. "If I am careful, I will be able to climb back up in a minute."

A baby step, followed by a slide, and then another slightly larger step...

"I'm doing it," Bri thought. "This is going to work out..."

Just then, the hillside gave way, and Bri slipped and began to roll and bounce down the extremely steep and rocky hill. As she was tossed around like a piece of cloth in a dryer, her body gained speed until it came crashing hard against a rather sizeable oak tree. The impact knocked the wind out of her.

Bri was writhing in pain. The roll bumped and bruised her pretty badly and she could not catch her breath. She tried calling for help, but no sound was coming out.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and then, it started to rain really hard and really fast. Bri finally was able to roll to her stomach and get to her knees. The rain began to loosen the dirt from the top of the hill and it was as if Bri was sitting in a stream of mud.

The coarse mud began to chafe her bruised and broken skin, causing an enraged panic. Bri began to punch and claw at the earth right in front of her. She took out a lifetime of frustration on that hill. Tears, blood and handfuls of mud flew in every direction. She was mad at her mom, she hated her teammates, and with every swing and throw, it was as if the tension was relieved. Bri drove her fist into the hillside for what was the last time when her knuckle hit something hard and sharp.

"Ah," she groaned as she grinded her teeth together. She pulled her fist out of the mud and held her hand against her stomach. "Jeeze, that stings," as she saw blood flow from the sizeable gash on her knuckles.

Just as sudden as the rain began, it stopped. Curiosity consumed Bri.

"What could be buried in there that cut me so badly?" she wondered. Slowly she began to slide the muck around until she saw what looked like bones.

"Oh my God ..." Bri said as she swallowed hard and nearly passed out. She kept wiping little by little until she could make out the structure somewhat.

"This has to be some sort of animal," she thought. The skull was huge and the rib cage was unlike anything she learned about in school. She continued to move the earth away until she came across what appeared to be a human hand. She threw up, thinking she disturbed a gravesite.

"Oh... oh... my...," she stammered. She gently began clearing mud under the moonlight. "This must have been what cut me," Bri thought as she unearthed a rather sizeable ring.

Bri panicked. What was she going to do? She began to breathe heavily and just as she thought she was going to black out, she managed to compose herself.

"Ok, ok," she began talking to herself. "You didn't do this. It's not your fault. You are going to take that ring to the police and tell them what you found. Maybe they can use the ring to identify who this was."

Bri took a deep breath and looked up the hill, which was a mudslide at this point.

"I can't lose this," she thought. Bri slid the ring on her thumb, the only finger the relic even remotely fit on and as she turned to get a running start up the hill, lightning struck the pile of bones and Bri fell unconscious.

*****

Bri awoke to being jostled around. She opened her eyes and she found herself slung over the shoulder of what appeared to be a large creature.

She began kicking, flailing and screaming immediately, and then she hit the ground hard.

Bri rolled into a sitting position only to be greeted by an equally frightened yell from her captor. Bri slid back, as did the creature.

"Stop!" the creature finally yelled. "My name is Grumpf. I mean you no harm. I found you lying in the grove unconscious! You look like you survived a battle?"

Bri, trying to process the situation, was gasping for air. One second she was putting a ring on her thumb, the next, she is in the crosshairs of this 10-foot-tall monster who at least for the moment, was not trying to hurt her.

Bri turned to run, but the ogre quickly snatched her up. Not in an aggressive way, but tight enough so she couldn't escape.

"Where am I?" Bri asked. "What happened to me?"

"I don't know how you got here," Grumpf began. "I was running from Darius when I was hurt badly in a fight. I thought I was going to die under that tree. The last thing I remember was blacking out. When I woke up, I saw you lying just away from me. I don't remember ever seeing you in Erig before."

"Erig?" Bri thought. "Are we close to Spring City?"

"I know no such place," Grumpf said. "Only ever been in Erig. I was captured as a young ogre by dwarves and forced to work bellows for many years. I escaped and thought I was going to die... now I am here."

"I fell down a big hill and the next thing I knew..." Bri said as she began to get choked up as she fought back tears. "I'm here..."

Grumpf, not the brightest being, twisted up his face in an effort to think. He was sure he had died, his arm nearly torn off. But, now he was fine? That didn't make sense. Grumpf stared at Bri. He didn't often see humans, so he asked her again where she was from and set her down gently.

"I told you, Spring City," Bri reiterated, feeling a little more settled as she slowly got to her feet. "So where is the closest community?"

"Community?" Grumpf asked.

"Ya, a place where people live," she answered. "I have to find my way home..."

Bri nervously began looking around, and as she did, she was nervously playing with the ring still on her thumb. She took the ring off and placed it between her lips so she could run her fingers through her hair without a snag.

Grumpf saw the ring, and freaked out.

*****

"Where? Where did you get that?" Grumpf screamed as loud as he could. The ogre began looking around furiously. "Fazil! Fazil!"

As the ogre panicked, the ring began to glow a beautiful blue. Bri's heart began to race and her eyes grew big. Grumpf reached for the ring and was met with a serious jolt that forced him back. Bri took a defensive stance, wondering as she did what good it would do as Grumpf could easily crush her.

The ogre stepped back, knelt, closed his eyes and tilted his head. "I am sorry," he began. "I did not realize your power. If you spare me, I will be forever in your debt. You, you brought me back to life. I realize that now. As the keeper of the ring, you now control Fazil, the wizard."

Taken back once again, Bri asked, "What are you talking about?"

Grumpf explained the origin of the ring. How it came to be and the fact it was indeed magic. He told the tale of Darius and the forging of the ring.

Bri's throat tightened and her palms began to sweat as the ring rested in her hands. The blue hue returned as she held the ring out away from her body. On the palm of her hand from the light came the silhouette of what looked like a wizard.

"I am Fazil the conjurer!" the apparition began. "I forged this ring to power the forces of good to prevent a world overrun by evil! That fool Grumpf stole my life and imprisoned me in this ring! He swallowed it, died, and the ring lay dormant for thousands of years. That is, until you unearthed it and put it on, rekindling its powers! My powers!"

While it sounded bizarre, it made sense now to Bri. What seemed like a nightmare was now just a horrible reality.

"Well, I wish you to send me home... right now!" Bri commanded.

"Oh, oh, no," Fazil began. "It does not work like that my dear. You see, to get home, you must do something for me..."

"What? What do I have to do?" she asked.

"Kill him," Fazil exclaimed, pointing at Grumpf. "He is supposed to die! His death would free me, and then, and only then will I have back all my powers, and the power to send you home."

Grumpf clenched his fists, looked at Bri and began to walk toward her. Bri slid the ring back on her thumb and stood in a martial arts stance as she pointed her ring hand at Grumpf. She closed her eyes and a red beam filtered out from her hand slowing Grumpf's motion to a virtual stop. Bri walked up to him and with one hand, pushed him over so the ogre lay flat on his back. She placed her foot on his chest and jammed her face about an inch away from Grumpf's.

"I'm not going to kill you, but because I don't know who is telling me the truth, I can't risk you taking this away from me," Bri said. "I will let you up, but I need you to promise me that we will work together. You could have hurt me, and you didn't... now, I can hurt you, and I won't. Deal?"

Grumpf pondered it for a second. Eons ago he had succumbed to death and was not afraid to die. Now, he had a second chance. Could he change? The human was showing him mercy, the first gesture of kindness he had ever received. If anyone could finally end Fazil's reign, it would be this girl. "She doesn't know the whole truth," Grumpf thought.

"Deal," Grumpf mumbled. "My word, you have it. But how do I know you won't turn and kill me just to go home?"

"If that was my plan, I could just kill you right now," she said, thinking she was not capable of such a thing.

*****

Bri released Grumpf from his paralysis and the two began to walk. Bri looked up at Grumpf, "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Starving!" the ogre bellowed. "Have not eaten in 1,000 years!"

"Where can we get some food?" Bri asked.

Grumpf stopped. His face scrunched up, he put his hand to his chin and he pondered hard as to where they could get a meal they didn't have to kill themselves. He put his ogre nose in the air and drew in a hefty sniff. He rolled his eyes around and pointed.

"Just over those hills and through the woods is a town I'll bet," Grumpf said.

"Well, let's go," Bri said excitedly. "Do you have any money?"

"Money?" the ogre looked perplexed.

"Yeah, something to trade food?" Bri replied in an irritated fashion.

"No, I have nothing," Grumpf shrugged. "Why not use your magic?"

Bri smiled and knelt down to grab a rock. She held the rock in her right hand, closed her eyes and gripped the rock tight. A gold glow wafted from her hand, and when she opened her clenched hand, the rock had been transformed to a gold nugget. Bri tossed the nugget up in the air so Grumpf could see it, caught it with a smile and said, "Looks good to me! Let's get dinner, I'm buying!"

The unlikely pair trudged up the hill and down through the woods. With the edge of the town in sight, Grumpf grabbed Bri's shoulder. "I can go no further," he said. "The townspeople will attack me. They see ogres as enemies."

Scared to forge on alone, Bri thought for a moment. "Whatever I think, I seem to be able to make because of this ring," she thought. "I just have to be smart." She found a shrub that was covered with vines. Bri held the vines, closed her eyes and gripped them tightly. When her eyes opened, the vines had been transformed into chains with shackles.

"Here, put these on," Bri said to a confused-looking Grumpf. "It will look like you are my prisoner."

Grumpf's eyes lit up. He could not believe how this human was able to think. Her brains scared him, but he knew he had to stay close to her and extended his hands.

Bri led Grumpf through the main street of the town and they met with an array of gasps and stares. Bri looked around and found a merchant who was selling a variety of wares. Dried meat, fruit, and even some not-so-terrible looking clothes. The merchant was obviously frightened and stammered out, "Wha, what can I get you?"

Bri pointed out a leather satchel, two chunks of dried meat, a basket of fruit, and a dagger with a curved blade and beautiful jewels in the handle. "May I have all that?" Bri asked. Then she pointed to a tunic with a pair of boots that looked like they would fit. The merchant looked irritated, as he was certain this young lady did not have enough collateral for this extremely large purchase.

Bri opened her hand and asked, "Will this cover it?"

The merchant's eyes lit up and assured her that gold nugget would be just fine.

"Do you have somewhere I can change?" she asked the merchant as she filled her new bag with the items she purchased.

"Yes, right this way," the merchant guided her.

Bri shed the shower curtain and dawned her new outfit, which was surprisingly comfortable. She tied her hair back with the lone hair tie that was affixed to her wrist. "The last 'tie' to my former life," she thought as she fastened her dagger to her belt and organized the contents of her bag with the food she had just purchased. Bri walked back out to the front of the wagon and picked up Grumpf's chain and slung it over her shoulder.

The townspeople were in awe of this new warrior they were seeing for the first time. The women were stunned by her presence, the men ogled her with a quiet respect, but nobody would approach her. Surely anyone with the bumps and bruises she wore with pride and a 10-foot ogre shackled and following her every order was someone they dare not approach. Bri and Grumpf found a shady spot on the edge of town and sat down.

Bri opened her bag and tossed Grumpf a chunk of meat and a pear. Once the two finished their meal in silence, Bri took out two apples, again tossing half her bounty to her ogre and began to speak.

"Look, I can't stay here," she confided in Grumpf. "I know Fazil said I have to kill you to go home, but there has to be another way."

Bri asked Grumpf if he could sit and wait for her as she tried to go back into town and get some answers. Grumpf agreed.

Bri took a few steps and gathered up a handful of small stones, clinched her fist and within a moment, she had a handful of gold pebbles. "That ought to do," she thought as she poured the gold into her tunic pocket. Once she was far enough from Grumpf, she took the ring off and held it in her hands. "Come on Fazil," Bri goaded the wizard. "We need to talk."

*****

Fazil appeared almost immediately. "How dare you!" he thundered. "I commanded you to kill that beast and yet he lives! You foolish girl! You have no idea what is going on here do you?"

"No," Bri said quietly. "I don't. And, I don't like you yelling at me either. If you were so powerful, you would just do whatever you wanted, but I think you need me to wear this ring for you to live."

Fazil was taken back. He knew this girl had figured that much out, but if she knew that, what else did she know? Fazil knew he wasn't dealing with just any fool who had stumbled onto this ring, so he rethought his strategy. The wizard knew he had come across as mean to the young girl, and that she adored the ogre. Fazil had to allow his good qualities to show and bide his time and let Grumpf's true colors come to light on their own.

"I can see you are resourceful," Fazil said. "So, you want another way home? Fine..."

Fazil's apparition bowed. "You won't kill Grumpf," he said. "There is something else you can do for me. I want out of this ring. For that to happen, you must collect three stones for me to cast a spell on. Once these three particular stones are united on the stone island and I cast my spell, I will be free from this ring. Once I am free, I can grant your wish. First, you must recover my emerald from the dwarf village where Darius came from. Next, you must recover my sapphire from the bottom of the lake surrounding Stone Island. And finally, inside the volcano on Stone Island, there is a ruby located just inside the outer rim. You collect all three, conjure me up again and I can finally be free."

"No problem," Bri said. "Oh, and one more thing... you can't kill Grumpf. Once I complete your quest and you send me home, you allow him to live out his remaining days however he sees fit."

"Never!" Fazil interrupted.

"Look, my old life was horrible," Bri scolded the wizard. "Here, everything I touch turns to gold and I am in control of you. I will do what you ask of me. All I want in return are two simple requests. Do we have a deal?"

Fazil stroked his beard and did not answer right away. "Deal," Fazil hesitantly stammered. "One more thing...put the ring on your ring finger on your left hand."

Bri did as instructed and the ring shrunk to a perfect fit. "I can't have you losing me," Fazil said. "I will be able to help you some on your quest, but this will largely be up to you."

Bri blushed a little. "Does this mean we're married?"

She could see the wizard was thoroughly annoyed.

"So, what can I expect?" Bri began in a more serious tone. "I am guessing this is not as simple as collecting a couple of rocks..."

"No dear, it isn't," Fazil said. "The emerald should be fairly easy, just get that worthless ogre to help you fight off the dwarves. The sapphire is at the bottom of the lake inside a cavern guarded by an ancient serpent. I hope you can swim. The final stone is guarded by the spirit of my daughter... that stone will be extremely difficult to acquire. She does not like me."

Bri got up off the ground from which she sat and dusted herself off. "Of course she doesn't," Bri said with her eyes rolling. "How far?"

Fazil explained that it was about a two-day walk from the town to get to the dwarf village, and then another two days to get to the island. He assured her that Grumpf knew the way. "Watch that ogre," Fazil warned. "He's not your loyal pet. He helped imprison me in this ring and he won't hesitate to hinder your journey..." Fazil then disappeared back into the ring.

Bri went back to get Grumpf, and then the two headed back to the town as Bri filled him in on what they had to do.

"So, will you help me?" Bri asked.

"What choice do I have?" Grumpf said. "Besides, you have been kind and generous to me. I feel like I owe you. I will help you complete your quest."

Bri smiled at her companion and they continued into town.

Bri purchased two canteens and as much dried meat and fruit as she could fit in her bag. She bought Grumpf his own bag and supply of food.

"One more stop," she said. "Wait here."

Bri ducked inside a tent where a weapons peddler had an array of swords, bows, axes and clubs. Bri looked over her stock before pointing at the weapon she desired.

"Ah, the billhook for the lady," the peddler hissed as he pulled it off the wall and placed the handle in her hands. "Good choice."

Bri held the weapon with the curved blade and gently swung it from side to side before whistling loudly.

Grumpf had entered the tent and the peddler began to panic. Bri assured him there was no need to worry. She had Grumpf pull the chain that restricted his hands tight as she raised her billhook and struck the chain, easily cutting it in two.

Bri looked at Grumpf, "What will you have?" she asked.

The ogre smiled wide and without hesitation pulled the largest battle axe off the wall.

The peddler's mouth was agape with what he just witnessed.

"I'll take these," Bri said as she dug in the other pocket and gave the peddler her remaining gold.

*****

The moon was bright in the sky and Bri could see her breath against its glow.

"Is this it?" Bri asked Grumpf.

He nodded slightly as she could hear his teeth grinding.

"Okay, the dwarf village. This is where Fazil's emerald is supposed to be located," she reminded Grumpf. "Any idea where they keep valuables?"

Without breaking his stare, Grumpf scanned the village from right to left, and then left to right and pointed.

"There... Darius' dwelling," Grumpf grunted. "I will bet it is there, where his son lives."

"What is our best bet?" Bri asked Grumpf. The ogre closed his eyes tight as if he could see not only his impending freedom for the completion of this quest, but also his emanate demise if this didn't work.

"The moon is almost as high in the sky as it can get," Grumpf began. "That means the dwarves will all be sound asleep soon. You must sneak into the village and climb up on to Darius' hovel. Then, I will enter the village to the south and raise unrest. When the dwarves rush to me, you sneak in and get the emerald. Then, run back around to the south. I will give you a few minutes and retreat. The dwarves are lazy and won't chase me."

The plan sounded good to Bri. She agreed and when the moon reached its highest point, she took off for Darius' dwelling. As she navigated through the tall grass and rocky terrain, she began to whisper to Fazil.

"I know you said your help would be limited on this journey, but I have to be honest with you, I am not a fighter," Bri said. "I possess no skills with this weapon I chose and I fear failure. Please, please give me the ability to use this weapon."

The ring began to glow a bright orange, and without her moving it, her left hand gravitated toward her billhook and when she touched it, the weapon glowed as well. A sharp spark ignited and Bri pulled her hand back. Her head felt a warm sensation. She stopped, took a deep breath and grabbed the billhook with her right hand, twirling it with no effort as she sliced the air in front of her before spinning and throwing the weapon at the closest tree, where the blade jutted in about four inches. She smiled and had to work the billhook from the tree. She sheathed the weapon and then navigated to the top of Darius' roof.

All was still when suddenly Bri heard an unholy roar followed by huts being engulfed in flames. It was Grumpf, reeking havoc as planned. Then, emerging from his hovel was the son of Darius, a bigger and meaner dwarf than his father. As Bri eyed him up, she noticed a green glimmer against his throat just before he tore off toward the ruckus carrying a torch out into the night. Bri knew right away that was the emerald she needed around the dwarf's neck.

Bri leapt from the roof and gave chase. Being the athlete she was, Bri caught up with Darius' son just as the scene of Grumpf slicing up dwarves came into view. Dozens of dwarves converged on the mighty ogre, but with slaps and swings of his axe, Grumpf was handling the fray with little issue. Bri saw her chance and jumped on Darius' son's back and with one swift jerk, pulled the necklace free that contained the emerald. Bri jumped down and began to run, but the dwarf pointed at her and shrieked, "Get her!"

Some of the dwarves stopped going after Grumpf and chased Bri, who ran back into the woods. With a healthy lead on the dwarves, Bri scaled a tree near the spot she and Grumpf began plotting the raid.

The dwarves were afraid and fell back, all except the one Bri took the emerald from. Clearly, this one was not just going to give up. "I will find you," he hissed as his torch thrashed through the night sky. "I will kill you. Give me back my emerald!"

Bri should have been scared, but for whatever reason, she wasn't. As the mighty dwarf thrashed his way just under the tree where she was hiding, Bri jumped from her branch and with her billhook drawn, she cleaved an ear off her assailant on her way to the ground.

The dwarf rose up screaming in agony and terror. He clearly did not expect an attack from above. Bri drew back with her weapon again and connected with the dwarf's left arm, rendering it useless. The dwarf was not finished though, as he rushed Bri, catching her off guard and knocking her weapon from her hand. Stunned and on her back, Bri tried to roll to her stomach, but the dwarf pinned her down and began to choke her with his one good hand. Clearly out muscled, Bri still tried to pry his hand off her throat, and when that didn't work, she reached for the dagger and began to plunge it into the dwarf's side with all of her might. The dwarf laughed as if unaffected. Bri could feel her life slipping away when all of a sudden the dwarf's grip loosened and he collapsed on top of her.

*****

The weight of the dead dwarf was too much for the young hero to push off, but Grumpf easily flung the body aside and reached down to help Bri into a sitting position. While she was gasping for air, Grumpf twirled the axe Bri had purchased for him and looked down upon her with a smile.

"That was fun," Grumpf said as he collected Bri's billhook and handed it to her as she returned to her feet.

"Fun?" Bri asked. "But we did get the emerald! That wasn't as hard as I thought. Your plan was pretty good."

Not much worse for the wear despite her sore throat, Bri gathered herself and her things and looked at Grumpf.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm not used to people, ere, I mean ogres, helping me."

Bri was thankful, but a little sad she had to admit that this creature had arguably done more for her than any real entity she had ever encountered. She was happy she was able to bargain for his life, because he had just saved hers.

"On to Stone Island, yes?" Bri said.

"Can we camp for the night?" Grumpf asked. "I'm starving!"

Bri laughed at her companion and said, "Sure, let's get clear of here though. I don't think we want to fight again tonight."

The two took a wide path around the dwarf village. They could hear the turmoil just a short distance away.

"You think they will come after us?" Bri asked. "Darius' son was probably their leader," Grumpf said. "Dwarves need to be led. They are a little smarter than ogres, but not much. They will come for us, but it will take them time."

Relieved, they walked until they could hear no more of the chaos they caused. They found an open field and matted down some tall grass to lie on.

"You sleep first," Bri said. "I will keep watch for a while, and then we'll switch."

Grumpf didn't hesitate. He curled up and Bri leaned against him with her dagger in her hand, just twirling it to pass the time.

*****

Day broke, and after a quick breakfast of fruit, Bri and Grumpf headed for Stone Island. While the path ahead was not terribly difficult, the fear of what lie ahead was looming, as was the possibility of what may be creeping up behind them.

While the battle was slightly exhilarating, a night of reflection reminded Bri of just how close she was to being killed. And for what, she pondered. To return to a life she borderline hated? To help some supernatural being she really didn't know and an ogre she didn't fully trust? To embark on a quest she was no longer sure she could complete? The anxiety and fear rushed over her like a tidal wave.

She and Grumpf walked side-by-side, but slowly Bri began to lag behind. "Grumpf... I don't feel well..."

Bri crouched and rested her arm on her knee, and her head on her arm. The ogre, not sure what to do, stopped and looked upon his companion.

"I can carry you," Grumpf said.

Bri stay still for what seemed like forever just breathing deep and sipping water. Finally, she slowly brought her head back up and spoke. "I don't know if I can finish this."

Grumpf looked confused and tears welled in Bri's eyes. "I am scared," Bri sobbed. "I am not a soldier, a fighter...nothing. I am just a girl."

While not the brightest, Grumpf did not know what to say, but he did know there was no turning back now. He knew how dangerous Fazil could be, he knew the dwarf army would soon be gaining on them, and he knew the second part of the quest was only a day's walk away. Not growing up in an affectionate environment, the ogre struggled for what to do next. He plopped down in front of Bri and spoke from his heart.

"You are strong and brave," he began. "You survived much already. You defeated me in a fight, you tamed Fazil, and you got us this far. We can finish this if we keep going."

It wasn't what the ogre said or how he said it even. Bri knew her only chance of any positive outcome was to keep going. She just needed reassurance.

"To the end," she said, as she looked Grumpf in the eye.

The ogre stood over her and extended his big green hand, "To the end," he reassured.

*****

Day turned to night, and night to day as the weary travelers saw Stone Island on the horizon.

"That's it!" Grumpf exclaimed.

The island sat down in a valley with a large lake surrounding the cold-looking island and a volcano protruding from the middle of it. The cliff around the body of water was high and Bri got a hint of vertigo as she looked over the edge.

"Oh my God. How are we going to get down there?" she asked Grumpf.

Before he could answer, the grunts and groans of an angry mob grew louder by the second.

"The dwarves!" Grumpf whispered in a noticeable panic. "There are hundreds of them!"

Grumpf frantically looked to his left and right. There was no place to go but down.

"What do we do? What do we do?" Bri was panicking too. "Fazil! Fazil, we need you!"

Grumpf twirled his axe in his hands, gave it a kiss, and turned to Bri as the dwarves were nearly in striking distance, "Swim to the bottom, water not very deep. There is a hidden cavern on the south side with a lone tree, but be ready to fight once you get there! Thank you for saving me..."

Grumpf reached out and grabbed Bri's hand in what seemed like a token of endearment. He squeezed her hand tight and with a quick jerk of his hips, he whipped her out over the ledge with all of his might.

Grumpf turned as the dwarves were now within striking distance. He prepared to swing his axe.

*****

Luckily, Bri hit the water feet first. Even luckier, she knew how to swim. While she was confused and scared to death simultaneously, instinct kicked in and she swam back to the top of the lake. Gasping for air, she briefly looked back up to the ledge from where she was just tossed and she could vaguely make out Grumpf furiously chopping up dwarfs. Body parts began to rain down and Bri quickly surmised what had happened and quickly looked around.

"Lone tree, lone..." Bri sucked down the deepest breath of her life and plunged into the lake as forcefully as she could. She kicked and pushed the water out of her way, making every effort to find the cavern Grumpf spoke of. Slowly she was running low on air, but her eye caught a glimmer in the distance. That had to be it she thought, as she pushed on as fast as she could. Air running out, Bri, with one last mighty stride, broke through the water and was able to grab the ledge. Gasping for air, Bri rested her head on the rock she was holding, but before she could assess the situation, something swiftly jerked her back underwater.

Whatever had her ankle was not letting go, and Bri knew if she didn't free herself, this would be her last swim. She thrashed around and briefly was able to begin swimming back toward the surface, when she felt a constriction around her neck. This felt eerily familiar, and Bri knew it was one of the dwarves who must have been tossed off the cliff. Bri was able to wiggle around to the point she was facing her assailant. Her suspicion was true. A rogue dwarf, albeit a smaller one, had her throat in his forceful grasp. Bri knew stabbing the body would likely be useless, so she drew her dagger and placed her feet on the dwarf's waist. With the point of her dagger nearing the creature's eye, the monster let her go for a second, just enough time for Bri to spring off the dwarf and propel herself upward. Her strength was exhausted and when she broke through the water this time, there was no hesitation as she launched herself up onto the rocky shore. She rolled to her stomach and pushed up to her knees, and then got to her feet. Still choking and spitting up water, she sheathed her dagger and drew her billhook.

The dwarf's head emerged from the water, and with one swing from the billhook, the head plopped back into the lake without the body. Bri dropped to her butt and her weapon fell to her side. Exhausted and fighting for air, she began to look around for the next danger. She noticed bubbles coming up from the water and opted to grab her weapon and take off into the cavern rather than see what surfaced next.

She recalled that she would have to fight for the sapphire, so she opted to save the energy she had left and forge ahead.

*****

As she forged into the cavern and moved what she felt was a safe distance from the entry point, Bri stopped for a moment. She crouched down and rubbed her arms briskly. Her teeth chattered, and as she reached back to grab her ponytail, she could feel it beginning to freeze.

A serious pang of fear washed over her as her breath, now visible, escaped her lips. What became of Grumpf? Slaughtered probably, she thought as her throat tightened and her eyes welled with tears.

Bri quickly gathered herself as she seemingly grew up at that very moment. She wiped the tears from her eyes, clenched her teeth and quickly checked her assets. She had her weapons and inside her bag were a few pieces of fruit and her water container. She filled her container with water from a nearby pool, tightened her belt and took a bite from her last apple as she planned her next move.

The sapphire has to be in this cavern somewhere. She patted her pocket to make sure the emerald was still safely inside...it was. Bri exhaled as that major detail kind of fell by the wayside. She tossed her apple core in the water as to not leave a trace, drew her billhook and began moving through the cavern. Surprisingly, she met no resistance until she came to what appeared to be a dead end.

The nook in the cavern was lit with three torches that resided over a pool in the basin of the rock. The pool was just big enough for Bri to fit. She knelt down and gazed into the pool. The first thing that looked back was her reflection. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Bri took a good long look at herself. She looked tired, banged up, and there was even a little blood that had dried above her left eye. Her reflection was more that a few physical traits, however. As she continued to look, she saw things from within. She saw someone who had succeeded, defied the odds and didn't crack under pressure. Sure she was scared, yes, she cried sometimes, but no matter the odds, she had made it this far. As she peered past her reflection, she saw it, a blue shimmer. It had to be the next stone.

"I can do this... I can finish this journey," she reassured herself, and not a moment too soon. She could hear a throng of clanging and barking echoing off the walls. She figured Grumpf had been killed and the remaining dwarves were hot on her trail.

She extinguished the torches so the dwarves hopefully wouldn't see the pool, and as she began to lower herself into the pool, her ring began to glow, and Fazil spoke, "You've done well, but for this next trek, you will need my help..."

The ring glowed a deep, dark purple, and Fazil instructed Bri to place her lips on the ring. She did without question. She felt a cool sensation in her chest and throat. When she opened her eyes, Fazil was gone, and she felt as if she could inhale all the air in the world. "Thank you," Bri said as she lowered herself into the pool and out of sight.

She lowered herself about 10 feet by pushing against the sides of the cavern before she was able to turn her body and swim toward the sapphire. She spun around, looking for some sort of resistance, perhaps a monster that should be keeping guard. She saw nothing, so she swam for all she was worth to the sapphire and just before she could pluck it from the cavern floor, she felt a rapid constriction around her midsection and she could feel her surplus of air rapidly escaping her body. Bri closed her lips tightly and began to thrash around to see what had ahold of her. She saw a beautiful blue shimmer from around her waist. The serpent she assumed. Knowing her air supply was diminishing, Bri knew she had to escape sooner than later. With her weapons pinned between her body and the serpent's, an easy kill was not possible. The creature brought its head around to take a good look at its prey and Bri acted quickly, poking the monster in its eye with her thumb. As she applied some pressure, the monster roared, and in doing so, expelled its remaining air supply. The serpent also needed air, and Bri realized this as it headed back toward the top of the cavern. Bri began treading water as rapidly as she could, making the ascent difficult for her captor. The creature did not want to release her and didn't have enough strength to continue crushing her without air. The serpent opened its mouth and struck at her. Bri used her left forearm to absorb the blow. As the serpent sunk its teeth deep into her flesh, Bri reached around its neck with her other arm and applied a chokehold of her own. Both low on air and entangled, survival was a matter of who wanted it more. Bri felt the grip around her waist relax just a little, so she closed her eyes tightly and squeezed as her life depended on it. And then, it happened. The beast's body fell limp, and Bri clung tight, riding its carcass to the bottom of the cavern.

Letting the weight of the beast act as an anchor, Bri finally freed her arm from the jaws of her captor and maneuvered toward the sapphire. No sooner had she removed the stone, then the water drained rapidly from the cavern. Bri quickly tucked the stone in her pocket and began to swim against the current. Her effort was just enough, and in an instant, all that remained of this endless supply of water were a few puddles on the cavern floor. Glad to be rid of the water, Bri quickly assessed her new surroundings. She drew her weapon expecting the worst. Her expectations were met when she heard, "Capture her, don't kill her!"

It was the dwarves. They had finally caught up and their plans were clear. Bri backed up so only the cavern wall was behind her. She took an offensive stance. Her billhook in her right hand, and a suddenly glowing ring on her left as the dwarves began to converge. The first dwarf met the blade of the billhook losing a shoulder and an arm. Bri spun to plunge her blade into the midsection of the next. Another dwarf had jumped onto her back, but Bri quickly jettisoned him with a duck and throw, sending the dwarf crashing into the next wave of attackers. Bri sliced and gutted the next few dwarves with relative ease, but they just kept coming. Then, she could feel the ring heating up. While it took on a mind of its own, Bri continued to fend off the dwarves. Her left hand, now moving independently from her brain, reached up above her head, and as she clenched her fist, a shower of large rocks fell from the cavern roof, crushing nearly all the remaining dwarves. Those that survived were stunned. They turned and ran, leaving Bri all alone once again.

While horrified at what she had just done, she took a deep breath and then exhaled with some relief. "One to go," she whispered to herself.

*****

Bri took a knee and gathered herself. She tightened her boots, made sure her weapons were fastened to her tightly, and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. Conveniently, the rocks that crushed the dwarves offered a near perfect albeit long and steep ladder to climb. As she prepared to make her ascent, there was one dwarf left slightly alive and was hissing something nasty at her. A swing of the billhook silenced him once and for all.

"I didn't want to hear it anyway," she thought and began to climb using the dwarf's head as her first step. As she climbed, the rocks beneath her shifted, making the journey tough. Rocks slid and nicked her knuckles and knees. No matter the bumps or bruises, Bri persevered, and after a climb that seemed like forever, she emerged through a crack in the edifice of the mountain. She could feel the warmth of the sun finally kiss her face, a welcome change from the icy cavern. While the climb was long, she was not finished yet, as she was only about halfway up the mountain. Taking a minute to gather herself, she briskly rubbed each arm with her hands to speed up the warming process. Bri peered up and had to use her hand to block the sun so she could see. "It's far, but not impossible," she thought, knowing the end was near. She had to scale the volcano and at the precipice, where some sort of flying creatures circled, had to be where the ruby resided. She quickly patted herself down to make sure all her gear was affixed tightly. She went to secure her billhook and drew it from its sheath violently and spun around. The weapon found itself about an inch from the midsection of a giant being. "Grumpf!" Bri exclaimed and she dropped her weapon and gave the ogre a hug almost like the one she gave the last monster she encountered. "I, I thought you were dead..."

"Me, dead?" The ogre said with a smile as he twirled the axe Bri had bought for him in his mighty hands. "I owed those dwarves a hefty beating and that is what they got!"

"I just thought that when they arrived in the cave, they killed you..." Bri stopped. "No matter, I have two of three gems. The last one is at the top of the volcano." Grumpf gazed upward and assessed the situation. "Why don't you let me hold on to the gems?" Grumpf asked. "Just to be safe."

"They are safe silly," Bri smiled and patted her bag and turned away from her friend. "Besides, I won't put you in danger again, I promise."

Grumpf looked frustrated, but laid off. "Lets climb up to that ridge about halfway up," Bri pointed. "It looks like we could camp there for the night and make the final stretch in the morning. We will need all our strength to secure the final stone. Fazil said his daughter won't give it away. I hope he is able to help us. I don't know how to fight magic."

"Me either," Grumpf said. "Now, hop on." Grumpf crouched down and Bri hopped on his back. Grumpf began to climb and within minutes he scaled nearly half a mile. "Just one more stretch," he groaned. "And, there." Grumpf had within minutes scaled what would have taken the young warrior hours.

Once on the ledge, Bri opened her bag and looked over her resources. She looked at her companion and divided the food up in equal amounts. Then, she wrapped her injured arm to keep it from bleeding further. The once dried meat was waterlogged, but Bri used what little debris was around to build a small fire to warm it up and dry it out a little. Day turned to night and soon the fire died. Bri and Grumpf shivered and shook as the night air chilled their skin. Bri got up and started pacing, both out of nerves and cold. "God, I need to sleep," she said through chattered teeth. "We won't have any energy to fight."

Just then, the ring began to glow and Bri's hand felt warm. She closed her eyes and extended her hand toward the rocks at her feet. In merely a moment, a blue flame was ignited on the small pile of stone at her feet. The flame was not large, but it gave off an extraordinary amount of heat. Grumpf looked on unimpressed, but thankful as he rolled over and went to sleep. Bri kissed the ring. "Thank you," she whispered as she fluffed up her bag and rested her head on it. "Tomorrow, this will all be over one way or another."

*****

Bri was awakened by a violent jolt. Her bag had been ripped out from under her head and her skull banged off the ground. She rolled away from the flame she was sleeping by and drew her weapon.

"What are you doing?" Bri scolded as she saw Grumpf with her bag in one hand and his axe in the other ready to swing. "Fazil can't escape that ring," Grumpf roared sternly. "I can't allow you to free him."

"Why now?" Bri yelled. "Why help me get this far, why not betray me sooner!"

"I wanted revenge on the dwarves," he said as he circled around to Bri's bad arm. "I never thought you could survive the cavern, but you did. I expected to find your body and lift the gems, climb to the top of the volcano and cast them in along with the ring. But now, I guess I will have to cut it off you now that I have the stones."

Stunned because of the betrayal, Bri felt like she wanted to cry, but knew that wasn't an option

As Grumpf held the bag high, he said, "You can just give me the stones... we don't have to fight." Without hesitation, Bri used her billhook like a golf club swatting a sizeable flaming stone that ricocheted off Grumpf's head, causing him to wince and turn. Grumpf took a blind swing and when his axe struck the stone ledge, Bri took a swing of her own, and knocked the axe out of his hand and off the ledge into the darkness. Grumpf roared in anguish, clutching his hand and dropping the bag. Knowing this might be her only chance to escape, Bri turned and kicked the ogre between the legs with all her might, and then raced to scale the next layer of rock. She realized that while her bag no longer served a real purpose, she had to have it back so that Grumpf would believe the stones were in it. She doubled back where the ogre, now writing in pain had dropped the bag. Bri snatched it up and slung the bag over her shoulder, and with a running start, she began her ascent rapidly. She could hear Grumpf yelling something, but was too afraid to stop. Bri scaled the rock as quickly as she could, but Grumpf began to gather himself. His left eye was badly damaged by the hot rock Bri hit into his face, but the ogre, fueled by rage, slowly began to climb. Bri kept scaling and never looked back. Grumpf began to climb after her, but he had to move gingerly due to his injuries. Knowing he would not be able to catch Bri, Grumpf opted for a slow and steady approach.

Bri reached the top and finally looked back to see just how close Grumpf was. She was crushed, even in a fantasy world she couldn't make true friends. The ogre still had a great deal of ground to make up, so she turned to look over her new surroundings when all of a sudden, she was violently sucked into the volcano.

*****

"I have been expecting you," said a seductive female voice. "I can't believe you made it all the way to me. Unfortunate though, as I will take those stones from you, and that ring... my father will never walk this land again. His transgressions are far too severe to forgive, so if you will hand over my belongings, I will spare you and you can be on your way."

Edana rose from the lava pool in the center of the volcano and reached toward Bri, expecting the gems and ring to simply be handed over. Bri took a good look at her opposition, a young girl, about her age, it appeared, with long flowing red hair and beautiful complexion.

Bri stepped back, drew her billhook and took a defensive stance.

"So that is how it is going to be?" Edana sneered, stepping out of the pool. As the lava dropped off of her, the apparition that appeared took on an outer shell of flesh. Edana shook her long red hair and it dried immediately. She reached behind her back and drew a sword. Bri could see the ruby she needed in the handle of the sword. "Last chance," Edana warned, lifting her sword above her shoulder.

Bri stared down her opposition, "I need to get home. Your father said if I collected these stones, he would send me home..."

"He's a liar," Edana hissed. "If he had any real power at all, he'd get out of that ring himself."

All of a sudden the ring began to glow, and that is when Edana attacked. She swung her sword just missing Bri, who sidestepped the shot. Edana took her free hand and grabbed Bri by the hair and thrust her knee into Bri's midsection, and then delivered a violent elbow to the back of her head.

Edana circled Bri, who was now on all fours. "Fazil is a despicable cretin," she began. "He sacrificed my mother to fuel his own greed, and then trapped me here when I went to exact my revenge. He can't help you, nobody can..."

Edana lifted her sword with the intent to take Bri's head off and end this battle. The fire goddess swung.

Clang... Bri parried the blow and took a swing of her own as Edana easily thwarted her attack. "Hand over the jewels!"

Bri continued to attack, but Edana was able to deflect the blows. It was clear Bri was tiring, proof by the way Edana took the butt of her sword and opened up a gash above Bri's left eye. Bri did not relent, smashing her billhook off Edana's sword and forcing the daughter of Fazil to the edge of the lava pit. Just as it appeared Edana was going to fall back in, she raised her hand and swiped it over the pit, causing lava to splash up at Bri. Without even thinking, Bri raised her left hand and deflected the lava back at Edana, who simply absorbed it into her skin.

"Got a little magic to you," Edana said with a twisted smile. "I take no pleasure in harming someone I have come to admire, but I can't risk you releasing Fazil."

Edana went on the offensive, and despite Bri's best effort, blocking her strikes was getting harder. "Okay," Bri said, taking the bag off her shoulder and holding it away from her body. "I've had enough, you win."

Edana smiled and extended her hand. Just then, Grumpf descended from the top of the volcano and landed inside next to the girls with an earth-shattering thud.

Bri tossed the bag in the direction of the lava pit and Grumpf dove for it. He caught the bag just before it fell into the lava pit, and Edana wasted no time taking a swing at Grumpf, cutting off his right hand and left leg at the knee with a single strike. The ogre collapsed, clutching the bag to his chest. Edana turned from Bri and approached what was left of Grumpf. She kicked him over onto his back. She reached down and with virtually no effort, she freed the bag from his clutches and dangled it above his face with her foot pinning him to the ground. "Foolish creature," Edana began. "You served my father and now you will meet his fate!" With that said, Edana used her foot to roll Grumpf toward the lava pit.

Grumpf was unable to offer any resistance. Laughing, Edana lifted her foot to kick Grumpf to his demise when she caught a shoulder in the back. Bri's hit on Edana spun her around. Without a word, the two teens began slashing at each other with their weapons. Sparks flew as the two danced around the cavern exchanging hits. Bri seemed to be gaining strength while for the first time, it seemed as if Edana began to doubt her own abilities. Realizing Edana was fading, Bri delivered a feigned blow to distract her opponent, and then with all her might, smashed Edana's sword with her billhook.

Edana dropped her sword on the edge, and just before the fire goddess fell back into her lava pit, Bri grabbed a fistful of her adversary's fancy top, preventing her fall.

"Just drop me," Edana gasped. "Finish me coward!"

If Bri learned anything over the past couple of weeks, it was that nobody could be trusted here. Doing what Edana suggested was most certainly the wrong decision. She pulled Edana back up, punched her in the face, gave her an elbow to the cheek, and threw her on the ground as far from the lava pit as she could. Bri grabbed Edana's sword, drew her dagger, and worked the final gem from the handle of the sword. Bri reached into her pocket and in her left hand, united all the gems and the ring. The ring glowed green, then red, and then blue. All of a sudden the color disappeared and the ring got extremely hot, burning Bri's finger.

*****

Lightning struck straight down into the volcano, and there he was — Fazil — he had returned. The wizard stretched and clenched his fists, and then released a roaring laughter. "Free, free!" He bellowed and brayed.

"And, what a bonus!" he said. "My loving daughter..."

"I hate you, you coward!" Edana said, spitting blood at her father.

Lightning struck once again, but this time, a thick black smoke filled the cavern. The smoke instantly choked all the living beings in the cavern. Bri couldn't breathe. Tears ran down her face and her head began to spin in a way she had never felt. She knelt as close to the ground as she could, but then the smoke cleared, and there stood Koume, Edana's mother and Fazil's wife.

"Fools," the witch began, and pointing toward Fazil. "I had you all do my bidding without you even realizing it... With you trapped in the ring, I was able to delve into the deepest darkest magic in all of the land, something you never had the guts to do, Fazil. For centuries I studied, and all I needed to do to complete my final spell to take over the world was find all three of your personal gems, the soul of an innocent, the eye of an ogre, and your withered hide..."

Koume's plan all along was to have all these things brought to Stone Island on this very day, at this very time so she could throw them all into the lava pit, cast her spell, and become an immortal goddess.

"First you, wizard," Koume sneered. She lifted her hands and a purple glow brewed and grew darker.

Fazil shot back quickly with some magic of his own, but Koume effortlessly deflected the attack and hurled the purple ball at Fazil. The old wizard absorbed the blow and crumpled to the ground. Koume then proceeded to conger up a spell in an effort to strip him of his magic.

Edana looked at Bri, who was crouched a short distance away. Both girls now realized who the evil entity was. "We have to stop her," Edana said. "If she summons up the spell she wants, it will unleash a spirit army, she'll become immortal and we'll all be dead."

"Are you hurt bad?" Bri asked.

"Don't worry about me, we have to stop her," Edana said. "Get up and run at her with your weapon, and break her concentration. I will try to get her with a sneak attack, but you have to occupy her for a few seconds."

Bri looked Edana in the eyes and nodded. She got up, grabbed her billhook, and ran with all her might toward Koume. The witch was so deep in thought; Bri thought for a moment she would be able to cut her in two. Bri was within striking distance when Koume, without breaking concentration, extended her fingers and zapped Edana with a violent jolt of lightning. The witch shot another at Bri's billhook, sending a flame through the steel weapon and searing Bri's hands, causing her to drop it. Bri, however, spun and delivered a violent forearm shot to Koume's ribs.

"That had to break her concentration," Bri thought, as she followed that up with a hard punch to her ear, forcing blood to spurt out and the witch to let loose a blood-curling yell.

Koume's spell has been temporarily thwarted and the witch was furious. Koume fired a bolt at Bri, who sidestepped this attack, drew her dagger and rushed Koume. Being quick, she sliced her shoulder and turned back to face her. She locked eyes with Koume, twirling her dagger in her fingers; "I will take you a piece at a time if I have to..."

Koume responded with a quick zap, then a puff of smoke and she vanished. She then reappeared right behind Bri, and beside her, and to her left, and to her right. The witch was everywhere. Bri began to slash and thrash each time she saw her, but to no avail. These illusions were nothing more than a magical ploy to tire out the young warrior. Koume was safely behind her wall of illusion. She was smiling as she tortured Bri, then, she got an idea. Koume lifted her hand in the direction of the lava pit, and out raised a fiery apparition of what appeared to be Grumpf. Koume pointed toward Bri, and the creature let out a horrifying cry. It turned and charged toward Bri. Clearly a dagger was no match, so Bri turned and tried to run, but Koume closed off the last exit with a rockslide. Bri turned and ducked, as the fire image of Grumpf raised his fists attempting to deliver the final blow of this battle... and then, it stopped.

*****

Bri felt the extreme heat, and could not bear to look. But just when it seemed it was all over, the creature was gone, and she looked upon Fazil who was standing mere feet from where she was crouching and he was clutching his midsection. Fazil had recovered somewhat, and had cast a weak spell on Koume, just enough to turn her attention. The fire Grumpf had vanished and Koume raised her hand in an attempt to finish her husband, and then she stopped.

Bri couldn't figure out why the witch stopped her assault, and then, she saw her billhook sticking out of Koume's back. Bri's eyes panned the cave and saw Edana, who used the last of her strength and magic to extinguish her own mother.

The volcano began to shake and it was clear some sort of eruption was about to occur. Bri ran to her former nemesis and knelt beside her. "Let's go, I have got to get you out of here..."

"No, just go," Edana goaded. "You won't be able to carry me and get out, we will all be killed."

Bri panicked. Fazil was down, Grumpf was unable to move on his own, and she wasn't going to leave Edana either.

"You don't have a choice," Bri scolded and she lifted Edana into a sitting position, then put her arm under Edana's and grabbed her belt, lifting her to her feet. "Just lean on me, I can get us out."

"Wait," Edana gasped. "Take me to my father."

Unsure, Bri honored Edana's request. She sat the daughter next to Fazil and the two held hands. Together they whispered a short diatribe, and all of a sudden, the shaking stopped. Fazil smiled at his daughter, and then looked to Bri.

"Thank you," he said and then held Bri's hand and clutched the ring she still had on her finger without saying another word. The wizard's body vanished, and the ring glowed a vibrant gold hue.

"Oh, no," Bri said.

"It's fine," Edana said. "He went back into the ring to recover fully."

Bri lifted her former foe and walked toward the exit Koume had blocked off. On the way, Bri pulled her billhook out of the dead witch's back on the way. The two girls stood just feet from the door, when Edana put her arm around Bri and rested her head on Bri's shoulder.

"Extend your hand toward the rock pile," Edana instructed. "This might feel weird, but try to focus." The witch used Bri's body as a byway for her magic, and with their combined strength, the mass of rock dispersed and Bri and Edana could escape the cave.

"Wait," Bri said, looking back at Grumpf.

Edana could read her new friend's thoughts.

"One more?" Bri asked.

The girls extended their hands in the direction of the fallen ogre, and puling their forces, healed the beast of his missing appendages and eye.

Astonished, Grumpf walked toward the girls, and lifted one in each of his once again mighty arms.

"Wait," Edana said. "The ring...it has to stay here."

Bri felt uneasy, but felt she could trust Edana this time. She pulled it off and went to hand it to her new friend. Edana shook her head and pointed toward the lava pit.

"Toss it in," Grumpf suggested, setting her down.

Bri drew her arm back and fired the ring into the center of the pit. A flash of colored light filled the cavern.

"Now it's over," Edana said.

Bri jumped back into Grumpf's arms and together they made the cavern nothing more than a memory.

Once the three heroes made it down the side of the volcano and Grumpf swam them across the lake and back to shore, a new reality set in.

"How am I going to get home?" Bri asked. "That quest was my only hope."

Edana tossed Bri a small bag and then looked back on Stone Island. Bri opened the bag and inside was a purple dust.

"What's this, a souvenir?" Bri asked.

"No, it is your pass back home," Edana said. "Or, anywhere you want really."

Bri looked confused. Edana rolled her eyes.

"Take the dust, hold it tight, make a wish, and throw the dust into the air," Edana said. "You only have one wish, there is only a little magic left in me."

"So what happens to you?" Bri asked Edana.

"I don't know," Edana replied. "With Koume dead, so is my magic. I used the last of it to make that dust. I am just a girl now, so maybe I will look for someone to marry? There is nothing here for me."

Bri reached into the bag and took a handful of the dust, closed her eyes and threw the dust as high in the air as she could. She reached over, took Edana's hand, and then tossed the bag with the remainder of the magic dust to Grumpf.

Grumpf caught it and stood waving goodbye. He picked up Bri's billhook and walked off into the sunset.

*****

Bri and Edana rubbed their eyes and once their pupils adjusted to the darkness, they looked around.

"Where are we?" Edana asked.

"Home," Bri said. "This is the spot I was before I ended up in your country, your time. This is where I live."

"Why did you bring me with you?" Edana asked.

"Because... you're my friend, and I couldn't leave you with nobody to look out for you," Bri said. "I hope you don't mind."

"You should have asked me!" Edana shouted. "That way I could have brought some more clothes. This tunic is ripped!"

Edana smiled and pushed Bri, who was momentarily caught off guard.

"Where do I live?" Edana asked.

"With me," Bri said. "I will just tell my mom you are a foreign exchange student who is staying with us, she won't know."

Edana smiled, "Anything is better than living in that volcano..."

"Hey, you know anything about basketball?" Bri asked.

Edana smiled and the two started to walk to Bri's apartment. Before they could get out of the school parking lot, a blue Camaro pulled up and the window slowly rolled down. It was Nick and Justin, a couple of football players a grade ahead of Bri. While she thought Nick was the cutest guy in the world, she never had the courage to talk to him.

"Hey, good game tonight," Nick said to Bri, leaning over from the driver's seat and lowering the volume on the radio. "That last foul was crap, but if you didn't hustle, that was going to be an easy layup anyway..."

"I didn't know there was a costume party tonight," Justin interrupted, looking the girls over.

"Um, thanks... there is no party, someone stole my clothes, and..." Bri was tongue tied and thoroughly embarrassed.

"We want to go!," Justin bellowed, cranking the radio back up full throttle and banging his head as the latest Motley Crue single filled the night air.

Nick now looked embarrassed and he shouted over the music to Bri, "I will be there to cheer you on against Oakwood on Tuesday." He smiled, Bri smiled back, and Nick hit the gas before Justin could embarrass him any further.

"I think he likes you," Edana noted.

"Ya, well, that would just be more drama I don't need right now," Bri said with a sigh. "We have to get home, I need to get some sleep, and I guess I have practice tomorrow. Strange, I was gone for weeks, but only minutes passed here."

"Yes, jumping timelines like that can be virtually seamless," Edana said. "I just hope this is it."

"What do you mean?" Bri asked.

"I have jumped around several times," Edana said. "I have been to all sorts of places."

Bri was taken back by this.

"I will fill you in a little at a time," Edana said. "Right now, I want to see what this basketball is all about."

As it turned out, this excursion was just what Bri needed to get her confidence on track with her ability. The Lady Volunteers did make the playoffs in 1984, and then with the help of a new foreign-exchange student player, the team won the district championship the following year.

Nick asked Bri to the prom and to be his girlfriend. Spring City University offered her and Edana each a full basketball scholarship for the following school year. It seemed Bri was finally getting what she deserved, thanks to an incredible journey and a magical ring.

Reborn

By Leonard Herington

The old dragon flew high above the barren landscape. The only thing below her that seemed to be alive was the volcano that belched out continuous plumes of grayish-white smoke that scattered ash and rock across the blackish ground. Her large golden eyes searched the hellish world beneath her for something lost. Until it was found, an unbearable pain would exist within her massive chest.

Four cycles of the moon earlier, Sauranna, had given birth. She had selected a cave high on a mountainside to bear her brood. The spot was easily defensible against attack from any of the vile marauding creatures that inhabited the nightmarish world. She and her mate, Aataar, had taken turns protecting the thirteen eggs in the nest. When she had returned two days ago after foraging for food, Aataar was gone and so was one of the eggs.

She had searched, careful not to stray too far from the nest, but there was no sign of her missing mate or of her unborn child. Sauranna knew her mate. They had bonded more than thirty cycles of the world ago. Dragons bonded for life. The two had produced numerous nests together over the cycles. Aataar would have given his life before abandoning the nest. Something horrible had happened and the Sauranna couldn't imagine what it could have been.

Her large pale blue wings were tired. She had gone further from the nest than she had thought safe. The need to find her missing mate and child caused her to widen her circles. The dark ashen sky was growing darker, Sauranna knew nightfall would come soon. Night was no place to be alone. It was the time that all thing evil emerged to scour the land for prey. It was time to return to the nest and protect the remaining unborn.

As she approached the cliff, something on the surface below caught her eye. For an instant, she had seen a reflection of light. Sauranna's heart skipped a beat. Perhaps the fading light had bounced upward off of a metallic object on the dark dismal surface. Perhaps the same kind of metallic surface that covered the outside of a dragon's egg.

Sauranna tucked her massive wings tight to her body and dove. She could see a small shiny object on the ground below. The object was barely illuminated, but the old dragon's eyes were still sharp. As she plummeted downward she never took those eyes off of the object.

About three tree lengths from the ground, Sauranna unfurrelled her great wings and landed nearly silently on the dust-covered surface. There in front of her lay a small golden object. She reached down and picked it up. Much of it had been covered with ash.

"No wonder I couldn't find you," she thought to herself as she wiped the surface of the egg clean. "The nasty old volcano had covered you all up. The howling winds last night must have blown some of the dirt off of you. Come child, let me take you home."

Sauranna flapped her mighty wings. Clouds of disturbed ash began to swirl around her as she ascended toward the nest.

The sky was nearly dark. As she made her way upward, she could hear the horrific sounds of creatures being torn apart and devoured by other creatures. The old dragon shuddered and increased her speed.

Nothing in her forty world cycles could have prepared her for the carnage that she saw when she entered the cave. All of the eggs in the nest were broken open. The unborn contents that had been inside of them were gone or partially gone, some remnants were strewn about the cave floor. Sarauuna had strayed too far. The eggs had been left unprotected for too long.

The old dragon reared back and let out a monstrous roar that echoed across the lifeless landscape for what seemed like an eternity. Saraunna fell to the cave floor unconscious, her mind unable to handle the intensive grief that engulfed her. A single golden object rolled from her claw onto the cold gray rocky surface. As it came to a stop, it began to slowly vibrate.

******

"Sauranna! Sauranna! Wake up! Wake up! We must go! Please, my love, wake up!"

As her eyes opened, the image of Aataar, slowly came into focus.

"Sauranna, wake up! We must go now!"

"Aataar? It is you! I thought that you were dead. I looked for you! Where did you go? Why did you leave me and the nest?"

With those words, the painful memory returned. The image of the shattered eggs raced back into her mind.

"Our children. They are all gone. All except the one that I found on the surface. It must have fallen from the nest."

"Sauranna, I had to leave. I heard sounds from below the cave. There were Night Flyers climbing the walls. There were more than twenty of them. I couldn't carry all of the eggs so I grabbed one and flew off. I hoped that they would take me as bait and follow. If they didn't I could at least save one of the children."

"And the beasts followed you."

"Yes. I was only able to save one. Once I was sure that I had eluded the creatures, I hid the egg in a dense forest near the eastern shore. It will be safe there. Then I headed back only to find." Aataar said, and dropped his massive head.

"And I saved that one," Sauranna said pointing to the egg on the floor of the cave. "It must have fallen out of the nest when you took off. Look, Aataar, it moves!"

"Grab it quickly! We must go! I do not know if the Night Flyers followed me back here!"

As Sauranna reached for the egg, cracks began to appear on its surface. An intense white light shone forth from the cracks.

"What's happening to it?" Sauranna said, stepping backwards and into the arms of her mate.

"Help me!" came a voice from inside of the egg. "Help me. Get me out of here!"

The cracks in the egg grew wider and the light grew brighter. Aataar reached down and picked up the egg.

"This isn't an egg. It's a rock. It's coming apart. I can see something inside of it," Aataar exclaimed.

With his two mighty front claws he pried open the rock. A single object fell to the ground from inside of it.

"Well don't just stand there gawking at me. For the love of the gods, pick me up!" came a human's voice from inside of the ring.

Sauranna picked up the ring. It was so tiny in her large claw. As she looked at the front of it she could see the small visage of an old man's face looking back at her.

"Thank you," said the man. "I got tossed into some lava some time ago and was trapped inside it once it solidified. For some damn reason, I couldn't use my magic to escape it. Somehow you were able to..."

The old man in the ring began to laugh hysterically. The two dragons looked at each other. Both were greatly confused.

"Of course...of course," the old man continued. "Dragons. Dragons have magic inside them. Old magic. Magic nearly as old as this world itself. That's why you could open the rock!"

"Listen old man, we are happy that you are free and all, but we need to get out of here. Night Flyers killed our children and may come back to kill us. We need to leave now."

"Hold on a moment," said the man in the ring. "First off, please call me Fazil. And who might the two of you be?"

"She is Sauranna and I am Aataar," said the larger copper colored dragon.

"Excellent. Nice to meet you both. Alright, let's take care of a few things then. First we need to get rid of those nasty Night Flyers that are right behind you."

Bolts of yellow, purple, and blue flashed out of the ring and past the two dragons. A second later the smell of burnt flesh and smoke began to fill the cave. When Aataar and Sauranna turned and looked behind them, they saw the smoldering corpses of over a dozen Night Flyers on the cave floor.

"Next, the business of the eggs," Fazil continued.

Pinkish mists began to swirl out from the ring. In no time at all it filled the cave. When it cleared, the shattered eggs from the nest were intact once again.

"I'd give them another three or four days and you'll both be proud parents once again," Fazil said a broad smile expanding across his wrinkled old face.

Tears began to fall from Sauranna's big golden eyes.

"How can we ever thank you?" Aataar said to the image of the wizard in the ring.

"Well, first of all could you have her drop one of those tears on top of the ring here. You never know when you might need a dragon's tear for a potion or something. Also, don't you have another egg out there someplace? It's in a forest if I'm not mistaken. It just happens that I sense that some elves in that forest have run afoul of some pretty nasty creatures and are in need of my help. If you wouldn't mind, I could use a lift. You could drop me off there while you retrieve your egg."

"Thank you, Fazil," Sauranna said to the ring. "You are too kind. Aataar can take you in the morning while I stay and protect the nest."

"You won't need to protect the nest anymore. Hold the ring outside of the cave and point it toward the volcano," Fazil demanded.

Sauranna made here way to the cave mouth and did as Fazil had instructed.

The ring began to vibrate. A beam of light shot from it and headed straight toward the top of the volcano. A moment later the sky went black and a thunderous boom shook the entire landscape. When their eyes adjusted, the two dragons saw that the volcano was gone.

"Not only did that nasty damn thing spew lava and ash, it ruined the environment creating a hunting ground for those vile evil creatures that found sanctuary in it. It will take time, but this place will become a safe and happy place for a wonderful family of dragons to call home. What do you think?"

Sauranna kissed the top of the ring.

"I think that sounds marvelous," she said.

"I need to get going. Can I get that ride?"

Sauranna dropped the ring into her mate's claw.

"Take good care of him," she ordered.

Aataar took to the sky.

"Don't forget to bring our other baby back!" she yelled after Aatar.

******

Within another twenty cycles of the world, the land had become lush and green. A crystal clear stream meandered through its valley. Dozens of dragons flew across its sky and feed on its fertile plains. Aataar and Sauranna watched their children and grandchildren from the mouth of the cave. Each day they thanked the wizard in the ring for their happiness.

The Ring Goes Missing

Scott Lee

Brand sat next to his small campfire, chewing on a small piece of meat from the freshly cooked rabbit that just moments before was removed from the spit above the flames. As he swallowed the first bite of meat, he stared calmly into the black forest around him, the darkness seeming to watch him like a giant guardian. Looking up, he could see stars peeking through the high boughs of the towering trees, a trickle of moonlight occasionally finding its way through.

The quarter moon was a godsend for Brand, as traveling through these dangerous woods under the brightness of a full moon would have been a risk he didn't want to take. Staring back at his small fire, he smiled as he watched the smoke from the flames drift into the air, only to be pulled sharply downward a second later, ultimately disappearing into a small black orb sitting a few feet from the fire.

Brand had paid a hefty price for this magic item, but to a ranger that spent the majority of his time in the woods (quite often in hostile territory), the magic item was priceless. Known as the Orb of Concealment, this item cast a protective shell around the campfire, completely shielding the light and sound cast from the fire and drawing the smoke into the orb like a giant vacuum. Essentially, he could sit safely within the 20-foot perimeter of the orbs magic without worry of being detected by passing enemies or monsters. The orb was, for all intents and purposes, a giant cloaking device. Nothing within its magic field could be seen, heard, or smelled. Anyone or anything passing by would see nothing but empty forest.

Taking another bite from the rabbit, Brand began to chew, only to have his jaw stop abruptly, his whole body freezing out of reflex. Eyes narrowing, he stared out into the darkness beyond the campfire, focusing on a spot in the distance. A few seconds later, he saw it again. Movement.

Brand had spent his entire life in the woods, from early childhood on. He knew every woodland creature that wandered the forests, and most of the monsters that dwelled there too. He knew their movement. How they walked, how they ran. And one thing was certain - the shape he was now tracking was neither animal nor monster.

Moving to the edge of the protective circle, he calmly reached up to his chest and gripped a small green gem encased in platinum that hung on a silver chain around his neck. Speaking softly, he uttered a phrase in Elvish, causing the gem to glow with a soft green light.

Instantly Brand's vision changed. Gone was the darkness of the forest, now replaced by an illumination that he always found hard to describe. It was neither light nor darkness, and he could see everything. It was Elven night vision.

Brand had acquired this magic item after a particularly nasty fight with a troll. Lucky for him the troll had never been able determine the activation phrase and wasn't able to use it in the moments leading up to the encounter. After defeating the foul creature, Brand had called in a favor from his friend, Faron, who was a powerful magic user. It took little effort for Faron to cast the spell identifying the activation phrase.

Now, with the Pendant Of Seeing in full effect, he watched as a humanoid figure staggered through the woods less than a hundred feet away. As the figure got closer, he could now see it was a man. Observing with peaked interest, Brand watched as the figure ran along the worn deer trail, stumbling and falling multiple times as he fled through the forest. And it was abundantly clear to Brand that this man was running from someone or some thing. After each tumble to the ground, the man would rise and look behind him before continuing his flight.

In less than a minute the figure was no more than 20 feet away, and he could now see that the figure was actually an elf. In the ensuing moments, Brand's life would take a drastic turn from the norm. Gazing intently, the ranger watched as the elf staggered up to a large, weathered oak tree. Leaning against it, the elf pulled a small pouch from his tunic and placed it inside a small hole in the trunk, about six feet off the ground. But what happened next is what really got Brand's attention.

Seconds after placing the pouch in the tree, Brand watched as the elf began a series of hand movements. Listening carefully, he could make out the soft murmur of Elvish words. A spell. A moment later, a soft white glow emanated briefly from within the hole before fading away. With the spell complete, the elf continued his flight into the woods.

As he ran past the ranger's hiding spot, the elf paused for just a second, looking directly at Brand. In that brief moment, Brand's eyes locked with those of the exhausted elf, and he knew that something was terribly wrong.

Even though the elf couldn't see him, Brand knew that elves were born of magic, and could sense powerful magic. Being so close to the protective field of his Orb of Concealment, Brand had no doubt that the elf knew that someone or something was there. But instead of coming towards him, the elf turned and fled into the woods, purposely wiping blood on a number of trees as he disappeared into the dense forest.

For the next fifteen minutes Brand stood at the edge of the protective circle. Watching. Waiting. As an experienced ranger, he knew better than to leave the safety of the orb before waiting to see if whatever the elf was running from decided to show up. Two minutes later, his patience paid off.

As Brand stood there, pondering the elf's strange behavior, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a new sound. Again his muscles tensed and his body froze. But unlike the passing of the elf, this noise prompted him to draw his sword out of reflex, despite his complete concealment.

Looking into the distance to his left, he could hear the sound of brush and logs being trampled under tremendous force, accompanied by a series of low, bone-chilling growls. With each passing second the noises grew, and soon he began to see shapes emerge from the distant forest shadows. The shapes grew larger with every breath from the ranger's mouth, until suddenly his breathing abruptly stopped.

Brand could feel his heartbeat in his chest and his hand clutched the sword tightly as he watched a band of four ogres crash their way through the overgrowth just 50 feet away, followed closely by no less than two dozen orcs. But it was what the ogres were holding back that really made Brand's blood run cold.

In front of each towering ogre, straining against thick iron chains, was a hideous, hairless beast born of nightmares. Standing four feet high at the shoulder, the grotesque, muscular body most closely resembled that of a giant dog, but that's where the similarities ended. Sitting atop a thick neck was a skeletal head that looked as though it was nothing more than a huge skull wrapped tightly in thin leather, and within that head were two glowing red eyes. Brand knew immediately what he was looking at.

Bloodhounds.

Few creatures were more feared than these vile beasts. They were created for one purpose and one purpose only – to hunt and kill. Their skin was ten times tougher than leather, allowing them to storm through the thickest brush and brambles unscathed. Few bipedal monsters had the strength to hold them back on a hunt. Ogres were one of them. A normal human's arms would be torn clean off when the hounds reacted to catching the scent of their quarry.

But what really made these beasts so feared was their blood. A glowing red liquid that oozed from long, open gashes all across their bodies. But this wasn't normal blood. No, this blood was like acid. And the closer the monsters got to their prey, the more the blood oozed.

Ultimately the bloodhounds would find their prey, and when they did, the victim would be pinned down by the massive beasts and their body slowly dissolved by the excretions. It was a horrible way to die.

Brand had only ever seen one bloodhound before this day, and that was from a great distance. The creatures were extremely rare, yet now Brand was looking at four of them. Someone wanted that elf very badly.

Even though he didn't need to, Brand remained perfectly still as the hunting party stormed past his hiding place, disappearing into the brush where the elf had gone. As the hounds discovered the elven blood, they let loose a horrifying howl, nearly pulling the ogres off their feet as they launched themselves forward in anticipation of the kill. Lesser men would have turned and fled in terror from hearing the death bellows. Fortunately Brand's will was strong and he held his ground.

In less than a minute the last of the trailing orcs had disappeared into the darkness of the forest, leaving Brand once again alone and in silence. Sheathing his sword, the ranger walked slowly over to the log and sat down, trying to digest everything that had just happened. Shaking his head, he couldn't fathom what would warrant the employ of four Bloodhounds in an effort to track down just one elf. One hound would almost certainly do the trick. But four? That's making sure the job gets done!

Getting up from the log, he walked quickly over to the edge of the protective circle generated by the Orb. Looking into the darkness, his magically enhanced eyes focused on one thing – the tree where the elf had stopped. Taking one last look around, he took a deep breath and slowly took a step forward. To any outside observer, it would have looked as though a man had just stepped into existence from out of nowhere. The Orb's protective barrier shimmered slightly as he passed through, and left no trace of his passing.

Moving forward, Brand quickly approached the tree, not wanting to spend any unnecessary time outside of his hiding spot than he had to. It took only a few seconds to reach the tree where the elf had stopped. At 6' 2" in height, the ranger was just barely tall enough to peer inside of the hole. What he saw was nothing.

Knowing full well that the elf had cast a spell, he slowly reached inside the hole, feeling around the small void. A moment later, his hand slid across a soft, velvety pouch. Closing his hand around the prize, he pulled his hand free and quickly made his way back to the safety of the campfire.

Once more he moved to the log and sat down. Opening his hand, he wasn't surprised to see nothing there. He knew he was holding a pouch. He could feel the fabric in his hand. He just couldn't see it.

Brand was pretty familiar with invisibility spells from his time hanging around Faron. He knew that the spell typically affected the object it was cast upon; in this case the pouch. But what was inside of the pouch wouldn't be. Gripping the invisible bag, he untied the drawstring and shook the contents out into his hand.

This time Brand was surprised, for in his hand he saw . . . nothing. But he could feel what he still couldn't see. And it was a ring. Moving it around in his fingers, he was able to gain some idea of its shape and size, but that was it. Knowing the potential dangers of magic rings, Brand could here the voice of his wizard friend echoing in his head:

"Never EVER put on a magic ring before casting an identification spell upon it" warned Faron with a stern face. "If you remember nothing else I tell you, remember that."

Quickly Brand returned the ring to the pouch, tucking the still invisible fabric tightly into a secure pocket inside of his leather tunic.

"Well, old friend," he whispered, as if answering the warning. "Looks like it's time to call in another favor".

*****

Brand quickly packed up his belongings and extinguished the campfire before deactivating the Orb of Concealment and setting off for Tarth. It was a four-day trek to reach the small city, but that's where Faron currently resided, and he didn't really trust anyone else to deal with this ring, considering the strange happenings leading up to his acquiring it.

Brand's first day of travel was strangely eventful. The ranger was one of, if not the most skilled woodsman in the realm, yet somehow, despite his best efforts, he had encountered an unusually high number of wandering monsters. He had been traveling away from the more dangerous region, so he should have been encountering fewer threats. But things had gone just the opposite.

During his second day Brand took extra precautions, slowing his pace in order to remain more concealed. This tactic worked well, but it wasn't without incident. Numerous times during the day the ranger had to use his extensive skills to avoid detection by a passing threat, and with each near encounter Brand began to make observations, and what he saw was disturbing - the creatures all seemed to be looking for something, and Brand was pretty sure he knew what that something was.

The ranger knew that many monsters are drawn to powerful magic, whether they know it or not. Those creatures with animal intelligence will simply follow what can best be described as instinct. Those with semi or low intelligence don't know why they are going where they are going, they just feel compelled to go there. And those more intelligent monsters will feel the power and seek it out, knowing full well what is out there. The more powerful the magic item, the stronger the pull and the greater the distance this magical pull reaches, which results in more monsters that it will attract. And if the magic item is extremely powerful, or an artifact, in time it will draw the most powerful and dangerous of monsters. Those born of magic. Dragons.

As the sun began to disappear on the distant horizon, Brand made camp and once again pulled out the Orb of Concealment. Normally he wouldn't even use the magic item in this situation, being it had a limited number of charges. But his new situation had changed everything.

Despite having the orb, the ranger's recent observations had forced him to take extra precautions in choosing the location of his encampment. Yes, the orb protected him from detection, masking all sight and sound within the protective radius of the magic item, but this didn't prevent a monster from inadvertently wandering into the protective sphere. Because of this very real possibility, Brand chose to seek out the rocky high ground, affording him a view of the surrounding area while using the large boulders as a crude form of perimeter defense.

As Brand stared into the campfire, his mind tried desperately to make sense of everything that had transpired in the last 48 hours. The ranger had come across a dozen magic rings over the years, but something about this ring left him unsettled. His mind kept going back to the massive tracking party that was chasing the doomed elf, more specifically the Bloodhounds. Someone wanted this ring very badly, and Brand knew that simply having it in his possession put him in a very dangerous position. The sooner he reached Faron the better. Only then would he get some answers.

After finishing off his meal of wild rabbit, Brand decided to try and get some much needed sleep. Spending the majority of his time in nature, Brand, like all rangers, had learned (by necessity) to sleep very, very lightly. Even the slightest, out of the ordinary noise, and Brand would be awake and on his feet, crouched with sword drawn. It was only three hours later when Brand's gleaming blade flashed in light of the glowing embers of the dying fire.

Crouched and ready, the ranger listened as a cascade of small rocks tumbled down the slope to his right. Prior to going to sleep, Brand had taken one final precaution to ensure his safety. In four key spots around his encampment, he had placed tripwires. Each one connected to a strong stick that held back a small pile of rocks. Hit the wire, pull the stick and the rocks go tumbling. Simple, yet effective.

Fully awake, sword in hand, Brand knew something was coming. Moving with the stealth of a cat, the ranger dashed behind a large boulder that was just inside the orb's radius, opposite of where the noise originated. Focused, ready, Brand watched the far perimeter of the orb's reach. Thirty seconds later, a shape appeared beyond the dull glow of the dying fire. A moment later, a massive, hulking figure walked through the orb's barrier.

What the ranger saw was nothing he had ever crossed paths with before. It was humanoid in nature, with arms, legs, and a semblance of a head. But that's where the human comparison ended. The creature stood eight feet tall, and appeared to be made completely of rocks, mud and dirt! The rocks that comprised the monster's body ranged in size from fist size to small boulders three feet in length. Its arms were like massive clubs with large, four fingered hands at the end. The legs were like tree trunks, with no discernible feet. Instead, the legs just ended in large, flat platforms of compacted dirt. Its head was nothing more than a short domed mound of rock and clay that merged seamlessly with the upper body.

The creature's movement was slow, but oddly fluid for what it was made of, and once inside the orb's perimeter it abruptly stopped, it's strange, neckless head turning slowly from side to side. Brand knew it was looking for him. Or more specifically, the ring he was carrying.

It didn't take long for the creature's gaze to stop on ranger's hiding spot, and Brand knew immediately that the jig was up. Muscles tensing, Brand crouched behind the boulder as the lumbering hulk moved forward. Waiting until the monster was a mere six feet away, he took the initiative.

Leaping from his hiding spot, Brand used an adjacent boulder to launch himself into the air, his sword cutting through the feint firelight in a wide arc. With a resounding 'clang' his sturdy blade struck true. But instead of causing damage, it only ricocheted off of a large rock in the creature's body, leaving the monster totally unharmed, with nothing more than a scratch in the stone.

Hitting the ground, Brand rolled once before spinning on one knee, his sword raised and ready for another attack. Eyes wide, the ranger watched in amazement as the creature's head and hands seemed to morph on its body. Seconds later the monster was once again facing him, having never taken a single step.

Again Brand took the initiative. Taking two quick steps forward, his blade speared into the monster's body, finding a large gap between two large stones. But again the ranger's effort failed, this time with painful results.

With the blade buried deep in its body, the creature swung a massive fist at Brand's head, narrowly missing as the ranger ducked out of the way at the last second. Turning, Brand attempted to retreat and regroup; only to stop dead in his tracks as the sword refused to budge. It was then that the ranger realized that the substance between the rocks was a thick, dense clay that acted like glue, holding his sword firmly in place. And that brief moment of delay was all the monster needed to land a crushing blow with its other fist, hitting Brand squarely in his side and sending the ranger flying.

The ranger hit the ground hard, tumbling to a halt near the edge of the orb's concealment. Wind knocked out of him, Brand struggled to catch his breath as he grabbed his side in pain. There was no doubt that at least one rib on his left side was broken from the powerful hit.

Rising to his feet, his mind raced as he tried to think of some way to defeat the earthen abomination. Sword gone, ribs broken, and no way to actually inflict any damage upon the creature, Brand had only one option. Run.

No sooner had he made the decision to flee when he heard a terrifying sound echo in the distance. A horrifying howl that was repeated three more times. Immediately Brand's blood ran cold and his heart sank. The bloodhounds had returned. And this time, they were coming for him.

Looking back to the rock monster, Brand was shocked to see the creature pull his sword from its body and throw it to the ground. A second later, the creature turned and moved quickly toward the orb's radius. As it neared the edge of the circle, its body seemed to merge with the earth, each step taking it deeper into the ground until it disappeared completely, leaving Brand alone.

Moving quickly, the ranger retrieved his sword, knowing full well it would do no good against the creatures that were coming for him. Once the Bloodhounds caught the scent of their quarry, they never stopped unless until their prey was dead or they somehow lost the scent. And the later almost never happened.

Brand knew the orb's protective field would mean nothing once the hounds closed in. They were tracking him by smell, not sight. They would follow his scent right into his protective circle . . . and that's when he would die.

Moving to the edge of the campsite, Brand activated his Pendant of Seeing and gazed down the hill. Three hundred yards away he could see a single massive ogre, still holding onto the chains of a bloodhound. Behind them were a handful of orcs. He already knew where the other three bloodhounds were. They were coming up the slope from the other directions. There was no escape.

Moving to the center of the circle, Brand clutched the sword, ready to go down fighting. Then suddenly he remembered the ring. The real reason he was being hunted. For a split second he thought about throwing the ring as far as he could, but quickly realized it wouldn't save him. With or without the ring, the hunting party would still find him and kill him.

Brand knew that the only chance he had was to put on the ring. But even this was a hopeless endeavor. If it was a ring powerful enough to destroy the hounds, he still didn't know how to use it. As with any powerful magic item, you first had to identify what its power was, and only then could you unleash that power.

But Brand knew this was no ordinary ring. The lengths that someone was going through to get it told him one thing – it was an artifact. And artifacts could be extremely dangerous. If the ancient magic was evil, it could take control of you... and ultimately you could lose your soul.

As that final thought went through his head, Brand pulled the pouch out of his pocket and dumped the ring into his hand. This time a beautiful ring landed in his palm. The ring was gold, with a band that flared to a greater thickness in the front, with a round opal set in its center with a flat bezel.

Brand stared at the ring for what seemed like minutes, his gaze becoming mesmerized by its beauty. Slowly he rotated the golden ring in his hand, his thoughts drifting away from the deathly scenario that was closing in on him. As he felt the warm gold caress his palm, he heard a distant voice echo in his head -

"Put on the ring," it said.

Suddenly, a loud, guttural growl snapped him out of his trance. Looking up, he saw a set of red eyes appear from around a large boulder just outside of the orb's protective circle. The bloodhounds had found him. Behind him, another growl sounded in the dark, and another red set of eyes appeared. Two more sets of eyes appeared seconds later on his left and right, and moments later, the four hideous creatures pulled their way through the orb's barrier, the thick iron chains pulled tight against the ogres holding them. Within seconds the 20-foot radius was filled with ogres and bloodhounds, and Brand was completely surrounded.

Clutching the ring tightly, Brand watched as the ogres and orcs stepped through the barrier, joining the massive bloodhounds. But to his surprise, all of them stopped. The ogre's muscles strained as they held the hideous hounds at bay as a large orc stepped to the forefront and stared at the ranger. Glaring back, Brand again heard the voice -

"Put on the ring," it repeated, only this time it was louder.

"Where is the ring, ranger?" the orc spat in a raspy voice.

It was then that Brand realized why he was still alive. The hunting party had found the elf, but not the ring. They had backtracked, where the hounds had caught Brand's scent, and now that they found him, they weren't going to let the hounds kill him until they knew for sure if he had the ring. If he didn't, then a slow, terrible torture would take place to find out what he knew.

"What ring?" replied Brand, defiantly.

"Don't play dumb with us, puny human," yelled the orc. "Where is it?"

"I'm telling you, I don't know what you're talking about," insisted Brand.

Looking to his left and right, the orc gave a slight nod and two of the ogres loosened their grip slightly on the chains, allowing two of the bloodhounds to move three feet closer to the ranger.

Squeezing the ring tighter, Brand knew his time was just about up. The orcs would take him by force and they would get the ring. He didn't know why, but he knew that he couldn't let them take it. At that moment of realization, a booming voice in his head nearly caused him to scream, dropping him to a knee.

"Put on the ring! NOW!" bellowed the voice.

Opening his hand, he dropped his sword and grabbed the ring. With a deep breath, he slid it onto his finger.

That's when the world exploded around him, his body rising up from the ground as if a giant invisible hand had just grabbed him. Through squinting eyes Brand watched as lightning cut through the air around him, striking the bloodhounds and knocking them backwards. He could feel the power coursing through his body as he watched the bolts of magic shoot from his palms, his body hovering four feet off the ground as it spun in place. Orcs fell and ogres howled with rage as the bolts struck home, inflicting terrible damage on his foes.

The next few seconds seemed to unfold like an eternity as strange words appeared in Brand's mind, his voice speaking them out loud in an unknown tongue.

"Mordrum tidum portentius!" he bellowed, as a blue glow appeared in his eyes.

At the same moment, the ogres, in tandem, let loose their chains and the bloodhounds lunged forward. As the creatures flew toward him, Brand shot to the ground with incredible speed, his body landing on one knee as his fist slammed into the ground in front of him.

With the force of fifty storm giants, a massive wave of blue energy exploded outward from his fist, sending orcs, ogres and bloodhounds hundreds of feet through the air like rag dolls, all of them disappearing into the darkness beyond.

As the glow in his eyes diminished, Brand's mind slowly began to clear as he regained his motor functions. He barely had time to ponder what had just happened to him when a shape suddenly appeared in front of him. Looking down, Faron grabbed his friend's arm and helped him to his feet.

"We haven't much time," he snapped.

"Faron. How did you? ..."

"No time," growled the wizard. "The hounds will recover quickly. Grab the orb and take hold of my robe."

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Faron began to speak in the language of magic, his other hand drawing strange patterns in the air. Moments later, a glowing, triangular shape appeared in the air in front of the magic user.

No sooner had the shape appeared when the first of the bloodhounds appeared in front of them, racing towards them in a full sprint. Faron's hand shot forward, his palm smacking the center of the glowing shape just as the bloodhound leapt into the air. The last thing Brand saw was a bright flash of light, as the hound seemed to pass right through them. A second later, he was standing in a large circular room with Faron.

"That was a little too close for comfort," said Faron casually, as he slapped his friend on the back.

Brand, still a little disoriented from the teleport spell, was momentarily speechless. After a few moments, he gathered himself.

"What just happened, Faron?" he said weakly. "I had no control over my body... I did things . . . the power . . . "

Faron moved quietly to Brands side and helped him to a nearby table and chair.

"You put on the ring," answered the wizard quietly.

"I... I didn't want to. I remembered what you told me," continued Brand. "But it talked to me. I swear it talked to me, Faron," he said with wide eyes, his body rising partway out of the chair.

Slumping back into the seat, his eyes softened as exhaustion once again took him.

"It... it made me put it on," he finished, a somewhat defeated look on his face.

Faron stood quietly as he listened to his friend. When the final words left Brand's mouth, he laid a gentle hand on the ranger's shoulder as he spoke.

"The ring is an artifact unlike anything I've ever come across," whispered Faron. "Its power is beyond anything I have ever seen."

Turning, Brand gave Faron a questioning look.

"Wait," he said. "You saw what happened?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I have . . . things," he continued, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Things that alert me to powerful magic."

Taking his hand off Brand's shoulder, Faron walked slowly to a nearby bookcase where he absently pulled a random book off the shelf. Placing it back in his spot, he turned to look at his friend.

"When the ring spoke to you, I immediately knew of its presence. I used my crystal ball to see it," he continued. "What I didn't expect was to see you in the ball."

"I can explain," said Brand in defense.

"I'm sure you can," replied Faron. "And explain you will. Leave out no details."

"I'll tell you everything," replied Brand. "But first I need to know how you saved me."

The wizard gave Brand a wry smile as he pulled up a chair across from him.

"My crystal ball isn't you're average, everyday magic ball," he said with pride. "Mine not only sees, it locates."

"Locates?" queried Brand.

"Yes. All I needed to do was lay my hands on the ball and speak the magic words, and it immediately transported me to your location. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, but I couldn't risk getting in the crossfire of the rings power. Only after you... I mean it, dispatched the threat could I come to your aid."

"You got there just in time," replied Brand.

"Maybe so," answered Faron. "But I have no doubt the ring wasn't done if needed."

"Then why did you come when you did?" asked Brand.

"Because magic that powerful takes a tremendous toll on all but the most powerful magic users," he said sternly. "Your strength and experience allowed you... your body and mind... to become the vessel for that power. But even you couldn't take much more"

Hands folded on the table, Faron leaned forward, his expression one of worry.

"Had the ring continued," he said quietly, "it would have done whatever was needed to destroy the bloodhounds and the rest of that hunting party. I have no doubt it would have unleashed magic so powerful it would have destroyed every living creature within a thousand feet of you. And if you survived, you would have been nothing but a mindless shell. A vegetable. Your brain would have been completely consumed by the magic."

Brand's face revealed the shock at what Faron was saying, his gaze immediately falling on the ring that was still sitting on his finger.

"I don't want this thing on my finger!" exclaimed Brand, pulling the ring off and slamming it on the table.

"You take it, Faron," he said, pointing emphatically at the ring.

"I cannot take it, Brand. The ring is sentient. There's no telling how it would react to my magic. I simply cannot risk it."

"Then what do we do with it?" asked Brand, somewhat frustrated.

"I'll need time to think," replied the wizard. "This ring is far too powerful to leave unguarded."

"And it seems to attract unwanted attention," added Brand.

With that Brand shared his story, telling Faron every detail of how he came to possess the ring. When he was done, Faron had a grave look on his face.

"There is far more to this ring than meets the eye," muttered the magic user. "Dark forces are searching for it, and from what I've seen thus far, they will go to great lengths to get it."

Slowly the wizard paced the stone floor, his brow furrowed, reflecting his deep thought.

"It's not safe here," he said.

"It's not?" questioned Brand. "I would think this is the safest spot for it to be."

"If I am to figure out what this ring is and why it is so important, I'll need to travel. I cannot leave it here unguarded."

Brand shook his head in understanding.

"What do we do?" he asked.

Moving to a shelf, Faron grabbed some paper and quickly jotted down a name and address and handed it to Brand.

"Take the ring to my friend at this address. Tell him I sent you. He'll know what to do."

Turning, Faron moved across the room and started to gather items, placing them in a small bag that seemed to hold far more than seemed possible.

"Go now!" he demanded. "Waste no time. There is no telling how long before those dark forces catch the rings scent again."

Quickly Brand pulled out the small pouch and placed the ring back inside. Tucking it back into his breast pocket, he spoke not a word and headed for the door.

Before he reached the exit, Faron had one more thing to say.

"Be careful, my friend. That ring will draw attention whether you know it or not. Use your skills to get to my friend unseen. I will be in touch."

Brand nodded and quickly left the room.

*****

As a highly skilled ranger, Brand was able to navigate the city unseen, reaching his destination in less than 20 minutes. Upon arrival, Brand had to check the address twice to make sure he was at the right spot. Looking again, he verified that the small pawn shop that he now stood in front of was indeed the location Faron had sent him to. Walking inside, he saw an old man sitting behind the counter. Moving forward, Brand stopped in front of the shop owner.

"What can I do for you?" asked the old man, not looking Brand in the eyes.

"Faron sent me," replied Brand.

The old man moved slightly forward in his seat.

"Is that so?" he asked. "And why would Faron send you to me?"

"I don't know," answered Brand. "But he said you'd know what to do."

"Clearly there is more that you're not telling me," said the old man wryly, still not looking directly at the ranger.

Brand looked around the shop, making sure there was no one else around.

"I have a ring," said Brand. "A very powerful ring. Dark forces are after it, and Faron can't watch over it. So he sent me to give it to you. He said you'd know what to do."

Slowly the old man stood up, his hands gripping the edge of the counter.

"Where is it?" he asked quietly.

Brand pulled the pouch out of his pocket and set it down on the counter.

Carefully the old man's hand pawed the counter until he felt the pouch.

"You're blind?" asked Brand, surprised.

"Yes," replied the old man, saying nothing else.

Opening the pouch, the shop owner dumped the ring into his palm. Closing his hand around the ring, his eyes began to glow a pale blue, getting brighter with each passing second. Opening his hand, the light faded and his eyes returned to normal.

"Follow me," he said, and moved quickly through a doorway behind him.

Brand followed him into a large back room filled with items and nick-knacks of all shapes and sizes. Moving past them all, he made his way to an old desk that sat in the back corner on top of a dust covered rug with a dozen strange markings woven into the fabric.

With amazing dexterity, the old man moved behind the desk and pulled an old key from his pocket. Unlocking a drawer, he removed a small, ornate music box and set it on the desk. As the shop owner turned it over, Brand could see more strange symbols on the bottom, similar to those on the rug. Feeling the sides of the box, the old man seemed to press the edges slightly, and to Brands surprise a small hidden panel flipped open on the bottom. Without hesitation the old man placed the ring inside, closed the panel, and placed the box back in the desk.

Moving from behind the desk, the old man walked to where Brand stood.

"It is safe," he said. "But I cannot keep it for very long."

"I don't understand," replied Brand. "Faron said you'd know what to do."

"And Faron was right. I have done what was needed... for now."

The old man seemed to sense Brands confusion.

"The ring holds power beyond your comprehension," said the old man. "Even my magic wards cannot hide it for long. Soon the magic of the ring will break down that of my wards of hiding, and the evil that is searching for it will again be able to track it."

"But if you're a magic user, how were you able to hold the ring?" asked Brand, perplexed. "Faron said it was too risky."

"I manipulate a different type of magic, ranger. I'd try to explain, but you wouldn't understand. Nor do I care to take the time to try."

With that, the old man pushed his way past Brand and back to the front counter, where he returned to the chair where Brand first saw him.

"So that's it?" Brand asked. "That's all you're going to do?"

"It's all I can do, ranger. Fear not. The ring is safe for now."

Brand was about to question the old man further when a young man of about 30 years walked into the shop carrying a bag of food.

"Here's your dinner, father," said the young man, tossing the bag on the counter as he passed straight into the back room. Leaning forward, the old man felt for the bag, finding it a second later. Pulling it onto his lap, he pulled out a large turkey leg and began chewing on it.

"Be wary, ranger," the old man said through a half-full mouth. "You're linked to the ring now. You will not know safety until the rings destiny has played out."

Leaving the shop, Brand stepped into the dark street and began his trek back to Faron's home.

Pausing briefly, something suddenly occurred to him.

"How did he know I was a ranger?" he whispered to himself.

*****

Back inside the pawn shop, the old man's son headed into the back room, a frustrated look on his face.

"Day in and day out I wait on him," he muttered. "And for what? Look at this place! Junk. All worthless junk."

Walking around the room, he noticed the footprints in the dust on the rug where the old desk sat in the corner. He had tried to open the desk in the past, with no success. The wood was far stronger than any he had ever seen. He even broke a knife trying to jimmy open one of the drawers. He always thought that his father was hiding something valuable inside, but he could never get it open to find out. Just once he'd like to sell something of value so he could get out of this hateful place.

His gaze once again fell on the footprints, prompting him to follow them behind the desk. Pulling on a drawer, he was shocked to see it slide open! Inside, he saw a beautiful, ornately carved, small wooden music box. A dozen small rubies were inlaid on the lid, and the overall workmanship of the box was exquisite.

"Finally!" whispered the son. "Something that will bring some gold into my pocket!"

Taking the music box, the son retired to his room.

The next morning the young man was up early, his father still fast asleep in his room. Music box in hand, the son made his way to the front of the store where he placed the box on a shelf behind the counter, making sure to place it in a spot where everyone entering would see it.

"Now I just need a buyer," he whispered with a smile.

A Tune in a Minor Key

Cassidy Raine Wolters

Fenton had fallen in love with a young gypsy girl named Deehlia and he wanted to get her a gift, a symbol of his commitment to the relationship. A tall, powerfully-built man, he worked as a blacksmith's assistant.

One fine spring day he took what little money he'd managed to save and went to a small pawn shop in the trade district. A bell tinkled as he entered the store and the old man behind the counter greeted him.

"How can I help you?" he asked as he turned his milky eyes toward the newcomer.

Fenton removed his hat and spoke in a clear, deep voice. "I'd like to buy something special for my girl."

"Ah, young love," the old man said in a voice overflowing with memories.

"You're in luck, my friend. I have just the thing," he added as he slowly turned and used his hands to find a small music box on a shelf behind him.

At that moment the owner's son entered the room and cast a wary eye toward

Fenton. "Pa Pa, wait a second. You know the decree against selling goods to a black person."

"Nonsense," the old man said as he delicately set the music box on the counter and started to wind it up. "What's your name, friend?"

"Fenton, sir. I work over at the blacksmith shop."

"But Pa Pa," the boy insisted. "The royal decree clearly states..."

"Tut, tut, my boy," the old man cut him off. "People are people. Isn't that right, Fenton?"

"Yes sir," Fenton replied cautiously. "To my way of thinking we're all cut from the same cloth."

"I'm sure everybody who works at the smithy looks black as midnight by the end of the day," the old man said as the music box began to play its tune.

"It's perfect," Fenton said. "I'm sure my girl will love it." He sat some money on the counter and the boy helped his blind father with the transaction. After expressing his gratitude, Fenton placed the item in his bag and headed towards the gypsy camp on the outskirts of town with a bounce in his step, whistling the music box's tune the whole time. As soon as she saw him, Deehlia raced into his arms and smothered him with kisses.

"I have something for you," he said, his deep voice resonating with love.

"You shouldn't have," she gently chided him as she took his hand and led him into her tent. "We have a baby on the way and we need to be careful with our money."

"I know," he said solemnly as removed the music box from his bag and presented it to her. "But I wanted you to have a token of my love."

"It's so beautiful," she said as her eyes began to well up with tears.

"Wait 'til you hear it play," he said as he slowly turned the key.

She leaned up on her toes and softly kissed his cheek as the music began. "I love you," she whispered.

Before he had a chance to respond a group of men from town burst into the tent, turned their hate-filled eyes to the young couple, and began to yell all sorts of nasty things.

"I told you we'd find him here," one of the men stated emphatically.

"I don't know which is worse - a black man or a gypsy woman."

"I'll tell you what's even worse than both of them - a black man and a gypsy woman having a baby."

Fenton tried to diffuse the situation, but his peaceful protests were met with a knife in the belly, followed by another in his back."

Deehlia screamed as she tried to help her lover, but she was shoved hard to the floor and a crushing blow to the back of her head knocked her unconscious.

When she awoke she found herself alone and she knew from the amount of blood that Fenton was never coming back. She cried and cried until there were no more tears. Only then did she notice the music box on the ground. It had been knocked askew, revealing a tiny drawer that contained a gold ring set with a round opal.

*****

Half a year later, the young gypsy girl gave birth to a boy she named Othello.

He was dark-skinned like his father and even amongst the downtrodden gypsies he was destined to feel the sting of prejudice.

Indeed, his childhood proved to be one miserable experience after another.

The only comfort he found was late at night when he would drift off to sleep while his mother hummed along with the music box as she fiddled with the gold ring she wore on a necklace.

Frustrated with his lot in life, Othello ran away not long after his tenth birthday. It was a hard, cruel world but the boy was a survivor. As a teenager he became adept with a sword and hired himself out as a mercenary. He grew tall and strong and tales of his deeds began to spread. Filled with a growing sense of pride he began to revel in his hard won fame, even going so far as to shave his head so he would stand out in a crowd.

Shortly after his twentieth birthday word reached Othello that his mother was in grave health. He tracked down the gypsy caravan and comforted her during her final hours.

"Take this," she said in a frail voice as she handed her son the music box. "And this," she added as she removed the necklace that held the gold ring set with the opal. "Gifts from you father on that spring day so many, many years ago."

Othello took the music box, wound it gently, and set it on a stand. He then sat on edge of his mother's bed. She placed a hand on his face. "You look so much like him," she said softly just before she closed her eyes for the last time.

A tear glistened down Othello's cheek. When the tune stopped he kissed his mother's forehead. He placed the ring on his finger, picked up the music box, and left without a backward glance.

In the years that followed his name and his feats became the stuff of legend. He discovered the Vault of Queen Wynora, sailed across the Southern Sea to the Land of Eternal Sunshine, shot the White Stag, and defeated the deadly Gorgon in hand-to-hand battle.

As his list of achievements grew longer and longer, a growing chorus of voices talked about the ring he wore and many who were still disposed to petty prejudices claimed that his successes were due to dark magic associated with the talisman.

On one of his many adventures he met and fell in love with a half-elven magic user named Marnee who herself had suffered from the fate of never really belonging, not quite being one thing or another. Though she didn't immediately return his feelings, he felt confident she would in time. The two were soon joined by a dwarf and a thief and the intrepid team journeyed near and far on many adventures as they searched for the fabled treasure of the Mountain King.

*****

The hideous beast known as the Grackel first appeared in the valleys west of the mountains two winters ago. It killed the warlord who ruled over the land with an iron fist. At first, the people rejoiced, but they soon came to realize that they'd only exchanged one tyrant for another.

Time and time again, the Grackel attacked during the night, its eyes glowing blood red in the darkness. It slaughtered dozens of peasants, often preying on the weak and innocent, frequently carrying small children off to its lair in the foothills at the base of the ancient mountain range.

Fed up with their lot in life, the poor farmers and simple craftsmen collected all the money they could and hired a group of four adventurers to kill the vile creature.

*****

"Time to go," said Marnee, a beautiful, half-elven magic-user with blonde hair and delicate features.

"Whatever you say, gorgeous," said Othello, a bald, black swordsman whose prowess with the blade was legendary.

Marnee removed some green, matted fur from a pouch that hung from her belt.

"Ugh, that stinks," Othello proclaimed.

"It was cut from the Grackel by one of the farmers. I can use it to cast a spell to locate the beast," she said as she began to chant softly to herself and the clear gems on the necklace she wore began to shimmer.

"The silver coins the townsfolk paid with have curious markings," said Rafe the dwarf.

"Yes, I noticed that as well," commented Boone, a swarthy man who made his living as a thief. "I think they might provide a clue to the whereabouts of the fabled treasure of the Mountain King we've been seeking for so long."

"That's a campaign for another day, my friends," said Othello. "Let's focus on the Grackel, for now. Any luck, Marnee?"

The light faded from the clear gems on the magic-user's necklace. "Yes," she said in a weak voice, exhausted from the toll of the spell. "There's a lake a few miles north. Ready the horses."

"Whatever you say, beautiful," Othello said with a flirtatious grin that Marnee ignored as she turned and walked away.

"She's certainly the opposite of a hideous beast," the dwarf said when he was sure she was out of earshot

"I bet I could bring the beast out of her," the thief bragged, but when he saw the angry look on Othello's face he quickly slinked away.

*****

An hour's ride brought them to the black waters of a small mountain lake. The gems on Marnee's necklace began to glow as they approached. "Yes, this is the place," she declared.

"Good," said the dwarf. "It's been far too long since my axe tasted blood."

"And my sword grows restless in its scabbard," added Othello.

"It's time to do your thing, Marnee," the thief said.

The half-elven magic-user took an oddly shaped bottle from a pouch, removed the stopper, and poured some liquid onto her index finger. "The beast resides in a grotto beneath the water. This powerful elixir will help me cast a spell to grant us access." The clear gems she wore around her neck once again began to glimmer as she chanted and used her index finger to draw a doorway in the air.

"Get ready," Othello declared as he unsheathed his deadly blade. In response, the dwarf drew his axe and the thief prepared his daggers. "Come on!" the swordsman yelled as he charged forward through the magical door, followed closely by the others.

The four adventurers swirled downward through the icy waters, but somehow

Marnee's spell kept them dry.

A putrid smell assaulted their nostrils as they materialized in the Grackel's lair. Huge piles of bones lay scattered about the dark cavern, while a vast treasure of gold coins and sparkling diamonds was heaped in the far corner.

"Where is the beast?" Othello demanded.

"There!" Marnee shouted as glowing red eyes appeared from the shadows.

A vile, disgusting creature with razor sharp teeth and long, nasty claws charged forward and plowed the swordsman over. Rafe attacked, but was effortlessly knocked aside. The Grackel delivered a series of powerful blows that left the dwarf's axe broken and his arm twisted at an odd angle.

Boone came to his friend's aid, but his daggers were overmatched and his life came to a gruesome end as the Grackel tore his limbs from his body.

"Othello, the spell we've been practicing!" the magic-user cried. "It's our only chance!"

He nodded in agreement and steadied his grip on his mighty sword as Marnee started to chant. When the time was right he heaved his weapon through the air.

Powerful bolts of electricity shot from the magic-user's fingers and charged the sword with an indescribable amount of energy just before it plunged into the

Grackel, easily slicing through its green, matted fur.

The lightning from a thousand storms filled the cave. The hideous beast howled in pain as it unsuccessfully tried to remove the weapon lodged in its back.

The might of the spell wreaked havoc on the victim, causing its body to twist and contort. The red glow in its eyes completely faded away, but the creature still breathed raggedly. It held a trembling hand out to the swordsman and let out one last, pitiful moan before death finally arrived.

Marnee slumped to the ground, exhausted from the spell.

Othello raced to the dwarf's side. "You'll be alright," he reassured his friend.

"That's more than I can say for the thief," Rafe said through clenched teeth as the swordsman helped him up from the ground. "Careful with my arm!"

"Don't worry," Othello said in a calm voice. "Marnee's healing spell will have you fixed up good as new in no time."

While the two warriors talked, neither one noticed as the magic-user's eyes began to glow blood red.

The evil spirit from the netherworld had spent untold centuries hopping from body to body, using its host's powers to spread death and destruction across the land. For many years it had possessed the warlord who ruled over the valleys west of the mountains, but two winters ago it fled the warlord's dying body and possessed the Grackel, a peaceful creature that only used its might to protect itself and its offspring.

Now the entity possessed the might of a powerful magic-user and it was already forming plans to inflict pain and suffering on a scale never before imagined.

The body that had once belonged to Marnee, a beautiful, half-elven magic-user with blonde hair and delicate features, rose from the ground. "Grab the gold coins and the precious gems. After I rest a bit, I'll cast a spell to take us back to the edge of the lake."

"Where to then, gorgeous?" Othello asked with a grin.

"Oh, I have lots of places in mind."

*****

There was much rejoicing that night and for many nights to come at the Blue Glacier Inn as the townsfolk celebrated their liberation from the vile, disgusting beast. Little did they realize that their troubles were about to get worse. Far worse. Perhaps the only person who wasn't happy that evening was Othello.

He knocked softly at Marnee's chamber door and entered. The magic-user was seated on the edge of her bed with her back turned to him. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered as he walked over and sat down by her side. "You were great today. I thought we might commemorate the occasion in our own special way." She turned to face him and for a brief moment he thought he saw a red glow in her eyes. He reached out and touched her face but a burning sensation made him pull his hand away.

"Leaaavve meeee be," she said in a lilting voice that was not her own.

Othello cast a wary eye at the blisters that appeared on his fingers and cautiously left the room. He heard the sounds of revelry from the inn's common room and thought of comforting himself in the arms of another woman, but decided against it. Instead, he went to his room and went to bed.

Sleep was a long time coming and when it finally arrived it brought strange, confusing dreams. Othello was transformed into an old wizard who battled a nameless creature, an ancient being capable of jumping from one body to another, bending and twisting its host to its own machinations.

He awoke with a start, drenched in sweat. A rooster crowed in the distance. For a second he thought he heard another voice in the room and the gold ring on his finger felt unnaturally warm. He glanced at his hand and the blisters were gone.

*****

In the weeks and months that followed Marnee's magical abilities increased exponentially and she rose to a position of power that far surpassed the warlord who once ruled this land. Othello and Rafe marveled at her newfound powers, but were perplexed by the changes in her character and personality. The sweet half-elven magic-user was gone, replaced by a harsh despot.

Othello especially chafed at this unwanted change. He winced at the look in the townsfolk's eyes and their hushed whispers when he was around. It brought back too many painful childhood memories of fear and prejudice. Besides, he was not interested in being a ruler. His restless heart yearned to continue the search for the Mountain King's treasure. But most off all he wanted Marnee back. The real Marnee. Not this imposter.

Night after night, his troubled dreams continued. Time and again he was transformed into an old wizard known as Fazil the Conjurer. He had but one thing on his mind, a single purpose - vanquishing an old foe, the nameless beast who possessed others and bent them to its will.

He always awoke covered in sweat, often trembling and disturbed, the ring always warm to the touch. To soothe his shattered nerves he listened to his music box. More than once he thought he heard someone singing along with the tune.

*****

Marnee used a magic spell to amplify her voice so the ten thousand members of her army could hear her final instructions. Her eyes glowed crimson as she spoke.

"We've spent months preparing for this campaign. Soldiers from the lands to the west are marching upon us as we speak. What will they find? What will be their fate?"

"DEATH!" her fighters thundered in unison.

"Follow me, my brave warriors. The time has come to go forth and vanquish our foes and expand our empire."

Mesmerized by her hypnotic voice, Marnee's army surged forward. Two of those present, Othello and Rafe, reviewed their own agenda, one that had a very different goal.

"Did you find everything?" Othello asked, making sure not to be overheard by any of the others.

"Yes, it's all right here in my pack," the dwarf replied. "Though I had a devil of a time procuring some orc skin."

"Certainly no worse than I had obtaining some goblin eyes," the swordsman said. "The owners were insistent that they weren't done using them yet."

"But are you sure it will work?"

"You've asked me that a dozen times, my friend."

"And a dozen times you've said yes, but not once was I convinced that you believed it. What are we talking about? Maybe they're just dreams after all."

"No," Othello insisted. "They're more than dreams, they're real. This spell I'm going to cast is real. In a few hours I'm going to exorcise the ancient evil and I'll be holding the real Marnee in my arms again."

"I hope you're right, Othello. For all our sakes."

*****

The clash of the great armies was terrifying, exhilarating, and barbaric. Marnee's troops were outnumbered three to one, but her otherworldly might was more than enough to balance the scales. The half-elven magic-user, possessed by the ancient, nameless creature from the dawn of time, unleashed powers that had not been seen in eons.

Thunderbolts erupted from her fingertips. Hellfire shot from her eyes.

Hailstones the size of a man's fist pummeled her opponents.

The battlefield was anarchy and pandemonium. From the edge of a forest on a high bluff overlooking the chaos, Othello and Rafe prepared the spell they hoped would set Marnee free.

Rafe used his axe to gather some wood and quickly started a fire. A small cauldron was placed over the flames and Othello began fill it with the ingredients the two had gathered over the preceding weeks.

He started by emptying a flask of rum into the cauldron. Goblin eyes and orc skin were thrown in, followed by gold nuggets, lizard's legs, and hemlock roots.

As the ingredients began to bubble Othello added some rose petals and grains of sand from the shores of the Southern Sea. He stirred the mix thoroughly before adding the final ingredient - a tiny emerald.

A huge plume of smoke erupted from the cauldron and drifted lazily in the gentle breeze.

The ring on his finger grew warm. Othello glanced at his hand and noticed the opal began to glow. He heard a voice chanting in an unknown language and watched with awe and fear as the smoke took the shape of the old wizard from his dreams and began to move towards the battlefield.

Marnee directed her troops from the midst of the melee, but when her red eyes noticed the smoke she lost all interest in the battle. A lilting voice escaped her lips. "Faaazzill!" it sneered. She turned her palms skyward and began to mutter a strange incantation.

Moments later a shimmering creature emerged from her body and began to puff up in size until it stood almost fifty feet tall.

"Soo weee meeet againnn, Faaazzill," the lilting voice declared. "Yoour tiiime isss upp," the ancient being added as it motioned the old wizard forward. On the ground, Marnee's body mimicked the same gesture, as if she were a puppet on a string.

As the titans clashed in the skies above, the battle below began to wane. Some soldiers dropped their weapons and fled in terror while others remained rooted to the ground, frozen with fear.

When the nameless being that possessed Marnee noticed their flight, it sent forth a ring of fire that surrounded the battlefield. "Nonnne shaaaall fleeeee. Fighttt tooo the ddeatth."

"There is only one death that matters today," the old wizard declared as he conjured a spell that sent a colossal blast of wind towards his opponent. "Yours."

The shimmering creature was scattered into a million points of light but it quickly reformed. "Nevvverrr!" it declared as sparks flew from its glowing red eyes and plunged into Fazil's astral form.

*****

After they conjured the old wizard, Othello and Rafe raced towards the battlefield. The two arrived just as the ring of fire appeared. The plunged into the melee and carved a path towards Marnee with their razor sharp weapons while the spectral forms of the ancient creature and Fazil the Conjuror battled in the skies above.

By the time they reached the half-elven magic-user Fazil had gained the upper hand. His chanting filled their ears as he cast one last spell that sealed the fate of his old foe. A burst of green light, as bright as a thousand suns, illuminated the sky and temporarily blinded everyone on the battlefield. As their eyesight gradually returned they looked to the heavens but all they saw was wispy smoke that began to dissipate on the gentle breeze.

Othello found Marnee on the ground and cradled her in his powerful arms. She turned her eyes towards his. The red glow that had haunted them for months was gone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay," Othello assured her. "Everything's going to be alright."

A faint smile appeared on her delicate features as her eyes slid closed.

Othello knew that they would never open again. He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead.

Rafe put a comforting arm on his shoulder. "I'm sorry my friend, but there's no time to grieve. Not unless we want to join her in the great beyond."

It took a second for his companion's words to sink in and then the bald, black swordsman realized that the din of battle was beginning to escalate again. "These men have no idea what they just witnessed," the dwarf said. "They're terrified and there'll be no reasoning with them."

"I'm not in the mood for talking anyway," Othello announced as he got to his feet and sank his broad sword into the first opponent he laid his eyes on. Rafe's axe cut another man down to size moments later.

The two comrades-in-arms battled heroically but in vain as the terrified armies devoured each other until no one was left alive.

*****

Word of the unholy carnage spread near and far, always accompanied by whispers of dark magic and evil curses that were rumored to have been used that day. No one dared set foot on the blood-soaked ground. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years. Most people were too scared to even talk about the site and the few that did claimed that the field was haunted, swearing that an old man's ghost could be seen walking around on moonless nights.

But superstition is the folly of man, not animals, and over time scavengers picked the place clean.

Decades later a magpie's curious eyes spied a gold ring amongst the remains, picked it up, and carried it back to its nest in the forest on a high bluff that overlooked the former battlefield.

The Ancient Oak

By April Ward

The life of a wizard is seldom boring, but it can be rather annoying, and today is one of those days that Fazil wondered why he didn't just choose the path of a baker or a smith. It should have been a looter that picked him up, but just his luck, the looter was a magpie.

"Well, this should be uneventful," Fazil said to himself as he was swifted off into the air. He could see the destruction below him, and it twisted his stomach in knots.

The magpie flew into the forest and dropped his treasure in a well-made nest that sat atop a branch in a huge oak tree.

"Great," said the wizard," I am stuck in a tree. Perhaps I can manipulate the magpie to drop me to the ground. The annoying creature and his greedy lust for shiny objects will probably carry me to his next nest." Little did Fazil know the adventure that was just about to begin.

It seems midday, Fazil thought to himself, while looking through the haze of the ring's spell. The constant jolt to the nest had apparently drawn his attention. "That blasted bird is never still. Oh, what is he about now?"

The magpie seemed to be kicking his claws to shift his treasures around. Fazil watched as he came closer and closer to the edge of the nest. "Yes," he thought, "keep kicking! If only I can get to the ground, someone will surely find me." The magpie gave one last kick and out toppled the ring. Twirling through the air, but not to the ground. Alas, it wrapped itself around a branch on the tree. Oh, that's just my luck, Fazil thought in dismay. Now how do I get to the ground?

The wizard pondered possible solutions to his problem. He thought of shaking the tree, but the branch was straight up. "Hmm, what a conundrum, he said out loud. That is when he heard it. A small static sound at first, then it seemed to get louder. A hum perhaps, no a voice? "What is it?" He exclaimed. "It seems to be coming from the tree!"

The sound was getting more and more complex. The old wizard was amazed by what he was hearing. Is it a history? No, it is a story? No, no it is a lifetime. A very old tale of a lifetime of happiness, sorrow, love and anger. Oh, and what a long, interesting life it was! What a long interesting life it still is!

Fazil, stunned by so many fascinating stories, well, they were images really, but they were so vivid. It was as if the tree was communicating, or at least trying to communicate. "Yes," thought the very excited old man, "the tree is trying to talk to me! I must try to talk to it. I must make it understand." Then it came to him, "I must make it talk and walk and see the way that I see! I have to make it understand. There is good and purity in this tree. My magic and its magic are so different, but maybe I can merge the two."

It is well known that earth magic and man-made magic will repel each other. Earth magic is pure and it is very hard to corrupt, but it can be corrupted if it is touched by dark magic. Man created dark magic many years ago. It is an unnatural twisting and warping of earth magic that was created to cause harm to the earth and its inhabitants. Pure earth magic will destroy itself before it will allow the darkness to use it, so Fazil had to convince the tree that he did not want to take its magic, but that he needed the trees help.

The wizard dug deep into the depths of himself to try to connect with the purer, stronger, more raw earth magic in the tree. He closed his eyes and he felt for the essence of the tree. At first, he felt the warm sun on leaves. Then he felt the breeze and the swaying. He smiled as he heard the life all around him, and he felt the joy that the tree was feeling. He suddenly knew that he was on an oak tree, but not just any oak tree. Fazil had landed on an ancient, mighty oak. The great oak was connected to everything in the forest. It was surrounded by many of its own saplings, and there was powerful earth magic all around it. The elderly wizard felt alive with the oak's energy. He was awed by the musky smell of the soil, the tickling sensation of the earthworms and insects. The wizard felt the power surge through the roots in the earth pulling from the energy of the planet and sending messages out to all of the trees in the forest. It was all getting louder and clearer. There were so many voices now. There were so many life stories. Fazil saw weary travelers, wars and animals of all kinds, even some that no longer existed. He was getting light headed, even giddy from the experience.

There, among all the sensations, the joy, and the sorrow, came a loud booming voice. Unlike anything that Fazil had heard before. It was strong, pure and noble. It was everything good and powerful with a wisdom that he had never witnessed before. The old wizard went to his knees, humbled by the beauty and character of the ancient oak.

The oak said in a strong loud voice, "Bowteh, my name is Bowteh! Who may I ask is living in my branches?"

The humbled, old wizard trembled in reverence to the ancient Bowteh, " I am but an old man. My name is Fazil. I am on a mission to protect the ring that is now lodged on your branch. I was trapped in the ring by a powerful spell. A spell I cast on a ring that I rendered to use for the greater good.

A loud rumble came from Bowteh. It shook the mighty oak to its roots and spread throughout the forest. Fazil could feel the acorns on the forest floor respond in laughter. Birds flew from the branches, and squirrels fled in fear. The rumble continued to shake every tree and sapling. When it stopped there was a feeling, not that the trees were angry, but amused.

"Wizard," chuckled the ancient tree. "Never have I known an object forged by man to be anything but trouble for the earth. Never have I known mankind to have important causes. Your kind shelter in our shade, you hunt in our land, you cut us down and burn us for warmth or build your homes with us. You are disrespectful, selfish, greedy creatures. Never do you think of the waste. Humankind never thinks of the other living creatures that share the earth with them, for some reason humans think they are special. The talk amongst the evergreen is that they're cruelly cut down only to be placed in human homes for a single season, and then they are burnt or tossed aside. It is said amongst the willows, that your kind will not be happy until they have no water left to drink. The maples, which have no great love for us oaks, even they speak of carvings in their bark and their kind being cut down and simply tossed aside to clear land for their homes. Why should I help you wizard?"

Fazil hung his head to think of a worthy reply, "Bowteh, I know that the creatures of the earth can be cruel to your kind, but as you said, even amongst your fellow trees there is disagreement. You mentioned that there is no great love of the oaks from the maples? Mankind is the same. As you know, the wood elves are loyal to the forest, and they are also in danger if I do not fulfill my quest. I humbly beg your assistance. Perhaps there is something that you would want my help with? I can still help from inside the ring. I can use my power to help you walk, talk or move to other realms. I would be willing to help with anything.

The forest suddenly went calm, too calm, and there was a bit of anxiety in Bowteh. Someone was in the forest, and the trees were suddenly very aware and alert. Then a calm and a joy came from the tree. It was an old friend, who came to visit the ancient oak. It was the powerful elf king, the tender of the forest, and the keeper of the ancient wisdom that is passed down from the elders of each different variety of trees.

Fazil already knew that the elf king knew of his presence. The Elves have powerful earth magic, so if the trees know something then the keepers of the forest also know it. The wizard had no clue what the elf king would do, but he knew that the ring had too much power to be carried by the elves. Fazil hoped that he could make the elves understand that he had to find the right wielder of the type of power forged into the ring.

The elf king, leader of the Oak tribe, was something to behold. Fazil could feel Bowteh's admiration for the great king. Burl was the name given to the mightiest of the elves. He was 6'7, and as lofty as a tree. His hair was the color of the autumn leaves that littered the forest floor, and his eyes were the green of the spring foliage. When he spoke in his elven tongue it seemed to float in the air like the music of the wind through the branches. Fazil was transfixed, and a bit intimidated to be at such a disadvantage.

Burl placed a hand on Bowteh's bark, and to his shock, the great tree said, "Hello, my dearest friend!" This was not the way that they usually spoke to one another.

"Hello, my dear old friend," said the elf in what seemed more like music than a language. "How is it that you can speak to me? By what magic has this gift been bestowed upon you?"

The ancient oak seemed perplexed as he said, "Why do you ask me what you already know?"

The elf did not look pleased and he responded in a low, but still melodic, tone, "There is magic in your branches. It is a powerful and dangerous magic. I would like to know how this came to be and what is its purpose? There are evil things at work in the world right now, and we must be careful not to get involved with dark magic!"

Fazil could feel the aggravation in Bowteh. The oak was angry, and it was sending the emotion through every root and acorn. The enormous tree shook and showered its bountiful crop of acorn all around Burl, who stood there stunned.

"I am not a sapling," boomed Bowteh in the elvish tongue. "You will speak to me with respect young elf king. I have known evil, and I am no stranger to it. The wizard who is trapped is not evil. He has asked for my help and in return he has offered to help me, and I have just decided to let him help me. Wizard, you will take me to the very edge of the forest. I will have words with the maple elders. I will speak with Maylana before she drops her last leaf. "

Burl bowed his head in shame, "I am sorry, wise Bowteh, I did not mean to offend. The uncertain times are a cause for great suspicion. There is a rumor of a dark magic that is poisoning the forest, the animals and even the water. I beg your forgiveness and ask to accompany you only as far as the birch forest. Betula, the queen of the birch tribe, has asked for my help. The birch are dying at an alarming rate. It seems there is a blight of an unnatural origin. So you can understand, wise one, why your wizard and his unnatural magic have me concerned. I will speak no more of it, my friend. Let us journey together and remember better times."

The wizard wondered what was happening to the earth. Before he was trapped in the ring he saw the beginnings of the poison seeping into the hearts of men, and he felt that change was coming. He forged the ring to fight the evil that he knew sought to destroy life on the planet. Fazil also knew that the world needed earth magic to help it heal, so he asked Bowteh to reach out to the healers. "Perhaps they can meet us in the birch forest, and they can help repair the damage."

"Yes," replied the ancient oak, "we will send out word to the healers. They will help the birch, and perhaps they will come with me to see Maylana."

Burl nodded his head in agreement and said, "Then let us be on our way, once your wizard uses his magic to help you move through the forest."

Fazil concentrated all is power on the ring and on the pulse of energy tying Bowteh to the earth. He began to pull the threads of magic to reform the mighty oak so that it could live and move by Fazil's will. The tree's earth magic was powerful and though it is not compatible with the wizard's magic, it can be manipulated. Earth magic will not respond to man-made magic. It is a complicated manipulation. A trick must be played so that the earth magic does not sense the impurity. It must be quick to work.

"Wait, wait," yelled Bowteh in a thunderous voice, "we must relocate the animals that live in my branches!"

I will handle that," exclaimed Burl. "Keep going, wizard."

Then it was done. The ancient oak was free from the earth. It was a sight to behold the massive tree. Burl stared in wonder as Bowteh took his first step. All the trees in the forest swayed and leaned to allow his passage. Bowteh sent out messages to all of the trees in the woods that he would be moving through the forest. Fazil felt the messages from all the different tribes, from the Alder to the Beech. There was excitement in the forest, for most of the trees had never seen the ancient oak, but they could always feel him.

Bowteh looked through the wizard's eyes and he used the wizard's senses to experience the forest in a new way, a human way. He saw all of his beautiful children. The mighty old oak walked through his home with great pride, which traveled and pulsated to all of the surrounding trees. He smiled at the saplings and the squirrels. He looked upon the bright green moss and the beauty of the fungus. He smelled what the wizard smelled. The musty wet leaves, the ponderosa pine, the honeysuckle and the damp earth. Bowteh wanted to experience all of it and send the sensations through his roots to all of his kind.

Fazil could feel the entire forest erupt with the joy from feeling these sensations. The wizard thought, this is pure happiness. This should not be corrupted. I must find a way to help this innocent life. How have I been so blind to the true magic that surrounds me every day?

Fazil, Bowteh and Burl walked in silence through the branches for some time. Trees seemed to bend to make way for the huge oak. Fazil just let Bowteh have his moment. After all, how often does an oak get to go for a walk? So the wizard simply reveled in the joy that filled the ancient tree.

The sky was growing dark. The first flicker of fireflies filled the air. They were nearing the edge of the birch forest when Bowteh stopped. Burl was holding on to one of the oak's limbs, trying to get higher ground to see what was coming. There was a calm that came over Fazil, which put him at ease that the intruder was a friend, and then the sky was filled with fireflies. They were burning so brightly, as to light the forest like a bonfire. That was when she appeared, like an apparition through the midst of the bright light. Fazil stared through the dissolving haze of the ring, and he saw a vision so clearly, a vision that he could not look away from. His mind could not focus on anything else, and he felt helpless to this magic. He was confused and more vulnerable than he had ever been. The pale green eyes peered into him, but how could that be? No one could see him in the ring.

Fazil did not know what was happening to him, so he called out, "What do you want? What are you doing to me?"

Althea whispered soothingly from nowhere, but from everywhere all at once. She seemed to be there in the ring with him. He knew her, but he did not know her. He felt that he could reach out and touch her, but somehow he knew he could not.

Althea smiled gently, and said," be calm. I am doing nothing to you. You are doing it to yourself. I am simply the healer. You are the one who wants healing."

Fazil could not look away, but he did not understand how he needed healed. All these feeling were welling up inside of him. He felt like he was in love or perhaps mad. He fought the emotions that were trying to slay him as he looked upon Althea's beauty. Her long black hair that sparkled like the star-filled night, her eyes the shade of the ferns on the forest floor.

What is happening, the wizard thought to himself, I am acting like a fool, like a swooning child. This woman will not make a fool of me. And then he was there. Back in the valley where he once lived, and he smelled the lavender in the front of his cottage. Fazil walked out the front door, and he was stunned when he saw his Elaina, his first and only love. Somehow he was home. He had stepped back in time. Fazil thought he must have gone mad. Why was he here? But he could not stop watching his beautiful Elaina. She was in her youth, with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. She was coming toward the cottage with a basket full of flowers, humming a song that she always hummed. Not a care in the world. Oh, how he loved her. How he will never love another. How he could never feel love again if he lost her.

Instantly, Fazil was back in the ring as quickly as he had left. Tears were running down his face, and he once again looked into pale green eyes. The pain that he felt went so deep that he could not breathe. Althea whispered, "Feel. You must let yourself mourn. Let me guide you. You must open yourself to love again."

That was when Fazil remembered. He remembered the power of love and the torment of having his love torn from him. He remembered Elaina's death, and he remembered Elaina's life, and then he remembered something she had once said to him in life. He could hear Elaina's voice so clearly as she said, "I feel that the worst possible thing would be to live without feeling love," Fazil felt Elaina touch his face like she had all those years ago, and she went on to say, " because we are the luckiest people to have shared even a moment of this feeling. I could never stop loving everything, even your messy hair is worthy of love, she said with a giggle, I could carry this moment with me into the cruelest of places and be happy to have had this one moment with you." Then he felt her tousle his hair, and she was gone.

"Oh Elaina," cried Fazil, "how I failed you. I forgot our love. I wanted to forget all of it. I am so sorry my love. I just missed you so much." Then he let his heart feel love again. He was healed. Althea smiled at him and let him know that he healed himself. Then she was gone from his mind and back on the ground talking to Burl and Bowteh. The wizard felt exhausted, but he also felt free. Fazil was fascinated by the power that Althea so effortlessly wielded to heal. It seemed that she had no control over her magic. Her power sought out the illness and it helped the person heal him or her self. I see how her power works to heal the mind, but I wonder how she heals physical ailments? Fazil thought to himself, I wonder if the healers could help to rid the world of dark magic? How I wish I were not trapped in this ring. I need to talk to the healer.

Bowteh was so confused. He had never felt the emotions that humans feel. The ancient oak always thought that the humans were selfish, greedy beings. He did not know the power of their love for each other. The ancient oak found a new respect and felt a pity for the human race.

Burl and Althea were deep in a conversation about the distress of the trees. Althea was explaining the problem.

"I received word from the Polypore people," Althea explained, " it seems that that the chaga are dying and leaving the birch vulnerable to disease. Some dark magic has infected the birch with a blight that is also keeping the chaga from doing its job. The symbiotic relationship of the fungus and the birch is very important to the balance. Also, the chaga are very important to me. I use the fungus for healing the physical ailments of many people. I fear that it is a powerful fungus. My magic can heal the mind, but I need the earth magic that comes from much of the earth's fungus and plant life to heal many physical problems. I hope that I can heal them, but it will be a challenge to fight the dark magic. I may need the help of Fazil."

Burl looked confused. "So, you already know the name of the wizard that lives in Bowteh's branches? I do not like this one bit. We cannot play with dark magic. You know how dangerous this can be. "

The healer looked into Burl's eyes and said, "These are dark times, my friend, and that is why we have to do whatever it takes, even if we are unsure of the outcome. We must save the forest at all costs. The balance must be kept. We all rely on this."

The powerful king hung his head in surrender. He knew that it was true and that he alone could not fix this problem. "Yes, I know you are right, but know that I don't like it."

Althea smiled and said, "Well, let's go see how we can help."

Fazil thought about the entire exchange, and he wondered how he would weave his magic into a healer's earth magic. On the walk into the birch forest, his head was spinning with ideas and spells that he used to use to help Elaina in her gardens. He had once healed her rose garden. The key was getting the living thing to trust you, if even for a moment.

As they walked into the Birch forest it seemed they all drew in a deep breath. There was the smell of rot and decay. The stark white bark of the trees was streaked with an oily black growth. Fazil could feel the sorrow in Bowteh as he took in the sight of so much death. The ancient oak had seen a lot, but this was something that he had never seen. Sure there were blights and death of the trees, but never to this extent. Fazil felt the feeling of helplessness in his new friend, and it strengthened his resolve to help heal the birch forest.

All of a sudden there was a rustling in the more healthy trees. Fazil could feel from Bowteh that they were excited. The leaves on the ground started to shift about and the air was filled with a musty, earthy smell, like the smell that comes from damp leaves after a rain. Fazil squinted to see what it was that was causing the commotion. Burl and Althea had comical grins on their faces as if they were on the verge of a chuckle. Fazil wondered what was so funny. Oddly, Bowteh was giving nothing away, and then he saw them. Fazil knew instantly that they could only be the Polypore people. He had heard about them since his youth, but this was the first time he saw them.

The Polypore are a very important part of the balance in all forests. They are the guardians of the fungus. The forest trees live in symbiosis with the underground fungus. It is a family that needs each other to survive. The polypore is every tree in the forest's favorite family member. They are a very shy, quiet and reclusive people. Not even many great wizards of old could claim to have met them.

Fazil could not contain his excitement. He felt like a young boy again, listening to the tales of the older wizards. Fazil stared in anticipation.

Sporen was the first to come into view. He looked very leery of the group he approached, but then he smiled when he saw Althea. Fazil almost chuckled when he saw the childlike Polypore. The creature was silly looking, and endearing. Sporen had huge brown eyes, pale speckled skin, mossy looking hair and a flat nose that resembled shelf fungus. The small being carried himself like he was ready to run at any moment.

Fazil could not help but love the innocent creature, and he could tell that Burl and Althea felt the same way. From Bowteh he just felt a deep respect.

Hyphalla came into view next. You could tell that she was the female of their kind. She was a bit more delicate in her features, with a smaller nose and wider eyes. Hyphalla had some fungus flowers tucked in her mossy hair, which seemed to thrive there. Fazil could not help but smile broadly. He felt so happy that he finally got to see the polypores and they were such an endearing people.

"Hello Sporen, and hello my dear Hyphalla," said Althea with a smile, "I am so happy to see you again."

Sporen and Hyphalla's eyes went large as they noticed Bowteh. They whispered nervously to each other and looked like they would flee.

Noticing the sudden change in the Polypore's behavior made Burl speak up, "Do not be afraid. You are amongst friends. I know that it is confusing to see Bowteh in the Birch forest, but he is here by wizard magic."

The Polypore's looked terrified by the mention of magic and they started to run when Bowteh spoke out loud and clear, "Guardians of the fungus are not afraid of a tree! Your kind has known me for years. You know that I am a friend. I am still the same Oak. I am just a little changed for now. We have much to talk about and many problems to solve. Do not run away!"

Cautiously the curious little creatures came back to help.

After an explanation of how Bowteh had become animated and much reassurance that Fazil was a good wizard, the Polypore decided to stay.

Sporen spoke first in his soft whisper of a voice with a nervous giggle attached to every word, "We lose much fungus. Even the indian pipe and ghost flower that I pick for Hyphalla go away." Hyphalla looked sheepishly at Sporen and gave a small giggle. "We lose much mushroom and great chaga goes too," continued Sporen, "The trees fall sick and we fall sick. The chaga needs to help the birch forest, but we do not know how to help. We are scared."

Hyphalla repeated, "We are scared." The children are getting sick and the forest floor is a danger for them now." Hyphalla started to look around and whisper under her breath, Betula coming, Betula coming.

Fazil noticed Burl straighten up, and Althea adjust her dress. He heard Bowteh's thoughts that the birch elf queen was coming.

The entire company faced in the direction of her arrival in anticipation, But Burl seemed on edge, and a bit fidgety for a mighty king. Fazil wondered why.

The birch trees were stirred up again but in a different way. Some seemed to bend a bit while others stood taller, but all looked to be excited for the arrival of the elf queen.

Then there she was in their midst, a tall woman with a regal way of carrying herself. She seemed as powerful, if not more powerful than Burl, who appeared to be flushed. Her hair was as white as the whitest birch in the forest. Her eyes were the color of the bluest summer sky. Her skin was so pale with full pink lips and a slender nose, and she moved as if the fallen leaves were carrying her. The gown that she wore reminded Fazil of the river birch. The dress looked so delicate and fragile, with the ends of the fabric turned up and it clung to her as if it were bark on a tree. Fazil thought she was a most delicate beauty.

Burl spoke first in a nervous jumble of words, "I am, I mean, we are, so happy to see you. I, we are sad that it is not a happier occasion."

Betula looked at him knowingly and replied in a voice that made Burl's voice sound harsh, "I am happy to see all of you too. Yes, this is not the best reason to meet with old friends." The birch queen turned to Althea and greeted her, "Althea, I am so happy to see you in my forest. We are in much need of your help." And then she looked at Sporen and Hyphalla and said, "My dearest of friends, you are always welcome in my forest." Then she approached Bowteh and in a curious voice asked, "How is it that the most ancient of the oaks can pay me a visit in my forest? Mighty Boewteh, you are the wisest of all trees, but I have never known you to walk before."

Bowteh laughed aloud and shook the forest floor. "Then you will be amazed that I can also speak. I am in the company of a great and kind wizard who has given me this power and he is going to help us with our problem. His name is Fazil and he may be able to help us heal your forest"

The Birch Queen looked at Bowteh and said, "Well, you are welcome here Fazil if you can help us to cure this blight and save my beautiful trees and the Polypore people, we will be grateful." Betula explained in a sorrowful voice, "more than half of the trees have died from this terrible blight, and the chaga is dying at an even higher rate. We have tried our magic and it has not worked. The magic of the chaga usually maintains the trees, but it is also sick. I am not sure how your magic can help us, but we will try anything."

Everyone stood silently looking at Bowteh. Bowteh sent a thought to Fazil that he should tell them his plan. Fazil put his head in his hands and tried to remember how he wove the magics to heal Elaina's precious rose garden that had fallen to a blight. He looked down at the eager faces of Burl, Betula, Sporen, Hyphalla, and then Althea. He stared at Althea for the longest time. There was something in the back of his mind and it was something to do with her and Elaina.

What is it? He urged the answer to come into his mind. It is right there. The answer is not hard, but it is so hard. Fazil was getting very frustrated. So much was depending on him. So many lives were at stake. Then it rushed into his mind. Love, it was love, his love for Elaina, and his love for the roses that made her so happy. The earth magic could tell that he loved the roses, so it let him merge his magic with it, and he was able to heal them. His love was so powerful that it made new roses bloom.

Bowteh, in the excitement of hearing Fazil's thoughts blurted out, "Love, the answer to the problem is love!"

Everyone looked at each other in confusion. Burl looked frustrated as he said, "How is love the answer? Could you please be more specific?"

Fazil proceeded to explain to Bowteh why love is the answer to their problem. He explained that he can merge his man-made magic with earth magic if he does it with love, which Althea had given him the capacity to have again. He explained that if they weave their love for the forest and the polypore into their magic he can weave his love of the forest and the polypore into his magic and it will be accepted. He told him to tell them how it had worked for Elaina's rose garden.

Bowteh proceeded to tell the anticipating group the plan and why it would work. Althea said aloud, "Yes, that's it! It can work! My healing power always has to be wielded with love and good intent. We can heal the forest!"

Fazil recommended they go to the center of the forest where they can join in a circle and send the magic into the earth, into the roots and into the fungus on the forest floor. He advised them to pay attention to his weave and look for the love in his magic. They will want to see only the man-made magic in the weave at first, but they should trust the love in the weave.

When they arrived at the center of the forest they preceded at once. The circle was formed and everyone concentrated on their earth magic and the love that they have for the forest and all of its inhabitants. There was a bright light that erupted from each one of them. Slowly, each strand of light started to connect with each other. Fazil watched and awaited his turn, and then he closed his eyes and thought of the beautiful sights that Bowteh had shown him. He remembered the forest smells and sounds, the innocence and nobility in Bowteh. He pictured the polypore and their childlike looks, ways and purity. He thought about Althea healing him, and the powerful elves acceptance of him. He felt such a feeling of love and admiration. His strand of light was so blindingly bright as he wove it into the earth magic. For a while, they were all one. He felt a little resistance at first, but it was replaced with acceptance quickly. Then he was part of their world. He was one with everything. He had a deeper understanding of the earth than he had ever had. It was breathtaking and heartbreaking in its beauty. He felt the tears rolling down his face as he realized that he was one with the essence of all life. He was one with the earth, and it was never going to leave him.

They all felt it when the job was done. The earth thanked them, and they all thanked the earth. The birch trees were saved!

Everyone looked around at each other with a smile. Burl hugged Betula, and Sporen hugged Hypalla and Althea just went around hugging everyone.

"Fazil," said Betula, "Thank you! But may I ask if you will help us heal the other trees from the blight in other forests?"

Fazil explained to Bowteh that he would give him some of the magic that he used so that the ancient tree can send it through the roots into the earth to help them join together. He told them to gather the polypore and the elf tribes and form a circle at the center of all the forests and send so much love through the earth that all the blight is gone forever. He wanted the mighty oak to explain that he could not go with them because he was on his own mission, but he promised to tell the elf tribes on their way to the maple forest what was happening and where to meet.

They all said their goodbyes, and gave their heartfelt thanks to Fazil and went off to join the tribes and the polypore.

Once again Bowteh and Fazil were alone. They started off on their journey to meet with Maylana the eldest of the maples. Bowteh talked about the issues the oaks had with the maples, and he spoke of his hope that they can reunite. He asked many questions about the sea, and how excited he was to get to see it. He wondered what the trees were like that lived there and if he would be welcome with the maples. He only knew what traveled to him, so he was glad he could find out for himself.

Fazil was amazed at all that he was learning during his time with Bowteh. They entered a forest of sycamore, and he was awed by the elves there. They were so tall and beautiful. They met the alder elves, walnut elves, and how can he forget the willow elves. The willow elves were fascinating. They were thin and had long hair, their eyes seemed always on the verge of tears and they spoke as if they were going to tell you some bad news, but they were oddly comforting at the same time. He had met elves before, but never so many different ones. Everywhere Bowteh went the word would spread that he was there and an envoy of elves came out to great them. Everyone was happy to help once they accepted that Fazil was there to assist them.

Bowteh and Fazil had journeyed through many forests, and they were finally entering the maple forest at the edge of the sea. Fazil could feel the trepidation in his tree friend, and he tried to soothe him.

"Well, we made it this far my friend," Fazil proclaimed, "We only have a little further to go."

The ancient oak agreed and they walked into the forest. Fazil could feel that they were not welcome. The trees were vibrating and sending out waves of distress. Bowteh was sad when he spoke in his booming voice, "I want only to bring news to Maylana. I come as a friend to the maples."

It was not long before an envoy arrived led by the king of the maple elves. Acer was the king of the maple elves. He was a very proud and stoic king. The maple elves were very colorful and attractive. Acer, like many of his kind, had red hair and gold eyes like the color of fall leaves on the maple tree, but what really stood out about him were his thick arms. The elf was an imposing figure.

"What evil magic brings you to my forest oak?" bellowed Acer in a thunderous voice. "You are not welcome here!"

In a voice that more than matched Acer's, Bowteh bellowed back, "I come at a time of great distress to all the trees to ask for forgiveness and friendship from Maylana. I have heard that she is not well, and I wish to speak to her before her last leaf falls."

Acer, with a rude tone, asked, "Why would Maylana want to see her enemy. You have nothing to say that she would want to hear."

Then things got strange. There was a moment of confusion with the elves when the ground started to vibrate and shake. Then the trees started to sway and the animals scurried. Leaves were falling all around them. The roots in the earth were sending a message to Bowteh. It was a message from Maylana, and she did not seem the least bit happy, but it was not with the ancient oak, it was with Acer.

Acer got the message loud and clear and he looked ashamed for being disrespectful to an elder tree. Maylana told him that he should know better. She instructed the elf envoy to bring Bowteh to her. She wanted to touch roots and see how it was that he was there without the entire forest knowing.

"Follow us," Said Acer in a solemn voice, "Maylana is near the sea. It is not too far."

Fazil could feel Bowteh's excitement, but he did not know if he was excited to see the sea or to meet Maylana in person. Maylana was the only tree, which had seen nearly as many seasons as he. The wizard knew how wonderful it was to have a conversation with someone your own age.

There was a clearing at the edge of the forest. They could see the maple in the distance. As they got closer Fazil's eyes widened because he had never seen such a large and perfectly shaped tree. Maylana was the most beautiful tree that he had ever seen. Bowteh read Fazil's thoughts and he had to agree with the wizard. She was perfect. But as they got closer they noticed some branches on the ground and they noticed some bare patches. It looked like something was wrong, but it was not a blight. Bowteh thought it to be old age. Her time was coming to an end. He will once again be the only tree his age.

When they arrived near her roots Bowteh was silent. He was looking past her toward the sea. The salt air whipped them and the seagulls sang to them. The sun glittered on the water and the waves crashed and spread their foam across the shore. The ancient oak was in awe. He had heard tales spread to him from root to root, but never could he imagine such beauty. A different beauty than his forest, but it was much more powerful. He felt a peace come over him, and he knew that this was where he wanted to die.

Little did Bowteh know that he had inadvertently touched Maylana's root and she was getting everything that he was thinking. Then he heard her thoughts as she said in a kind voice, "If it is your wish to stay here and die than I will grant you that wish and you will be safe with the maples. Now, I must ask, by what magic have you been able to journey to my forest, and what has caused you to want to forge a friendship with us?"

Bowteh, feeling a little silly, told Maylan everything that had happened to him since meeting Fazil, and then he explained the importance of the oaks and maples getting along. He told her how their kind were wrong in the past and that they should learn to share once more by having the elves plant them side by side in an alliance.

Maylana was silent as she gathered her thoughts then she said, "I have guarded the maple forest for many years, but I fear that my time is at an end. I will not survive many more seasons. I am tired, but I will need someone to guard the maples until the sapling that is planted to replace me is old enough to guard the forest. Bowteh, will you stay and root near my sapling and stand guard with the maples until the end of your days? With the evil that approaches and the danger of the humans that take our dead trees in their boats, we will need a strong, wise tree to protect us. This will give you your wish to die by the sea."

Bowteh was humbled by her offer, and he accepted. The two immediately sent the word out through their roots to all of the forests that the oak and the maple are friends again and they will soon be side by side in every forest.

Maylana and Bowteh talked for many hours about all they have seen and the dangers of the times, until Maylana was exhausted. Fazil was exhausted too. He had heard so many tales of pirates, storms, the creatures that live in the sea, and their guardians who are half fish. His head was spinning from all of the adventures. Fazil was half asleep when Acer arrived.

Acer talked to Maylana for a while and then he turned toward Bowteh. This time he had a smile on his face when he approached the mighty oak. He touched the oak's bark and said, "I am sorry, friend. I was a fool to be rude. We will get to know each other over the years. You are welcome here! Mayalan has asked me to take you to the cliff where you can have a great view of the sea. I have planted her daughter near you and you two can warn us of the dangers approaching from the sea. I am sure she will enjoy your stories. The alliance is forged."

The three walked to the top of the cliff, where a sapling had been planted. Bowteh was overcome with the vastness and beauty of the water before him, as he started to plant his roots in the earth he bowed in reverence to the power of the sea, and as he did Fazil quickly cast his spell into the ancient oak, because he felt himself falling from the limb. He said a quick goodbye and cast one more, quick spell, a spell that made Bowteh able to talk until his dying day.

Fazil found himself on the ground between the sapling and Bowteh. He felt sad that his adventure with the trees, elves and ploypore was over. The wizard learned so much about himself, and how sacred the innocent life on the earth was. He knew that love of all the life on the planet was the only way to fight the dark magic that threatened to destroy it, and then he fell into a much needed sleep.

Friends and Foes

By B.C. Richards

King Flynlann's Elven Archers rained arrows down upon the advancing forces of Dragon Men as if it was a torrential storm. Bodies of the black leather clad warriors fell in numbers as the arrows found their mark.
"Prepare to send in your cavalry on their flanks, Delonok, as soon as they break formation. In their panic, they will be like lambs to the slaughter," said a voice from inside the ring that the Human king wore on his finger.

"Do not underestimate the Dragon Men, Fazil, old friend. They fight hardest when they face defeat. Remember Landonia, we thought we had them trapped by the river. They drove us back and turned the tide. We were lucky to get out of there with what was left of our forces."

"This is not Landonia, Delonok. We will be victorious this day. I can feel it."

"I hope that you are right, Fazil. I grow tired of this war. My son is five years old and I have yet to see his face."

"It is time. Send in your men."

Delonok raised his hand. When he dropped it. Over a thousand mounted soldiers emerged from their positions from behind the two hills, which had hidden them from the Dragon Men. Seconds later they descended the hillsides into the flanks of the unsuspecting Draconian Army.

"It is time that I join the fight, Fazil. I will leave you in the care of my servant boy. Come, Rohbier."

The king handed the ring to the boy and then mounted his horse.

"Take care of the ring. Do not let it fall into the hands of our enemies. If I should perish this day, see to it that King Flynlann receives the ring. Do you understand me, Rohbier?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Do not let me down, Rohbier. The fate of two kingdoms rests within that ring."

"I promise you that I will look after it with every precaution, my Lord."

Delonok nodded. He snapped the reigns of his horse and headed off to join the fray.

"Gods protect you!" Fazil said from inside the ring.

Rohbier had heard his king speak to the ring many times. This was the first time he had heard the ring itself speak.

"It must have to be in contact with you in order to be able to hear it," Rohbier muttered to himself.

He held the ring up so that he could better see it. As he did, he could see the smiling image of an old wizard on its face.

"Be careful, Rohbier! There is evil all around us!"

"Where?" Rohbier asked.

By the look in Rohbier's eyes, Fazil knew that it was already too late.

"Rohbier! Rohbier!"

*****

The gentle breeze carried the sweet salty smell of the ocean to him. The noise of the carnage in the fields below him was lost. He could see the face in the ring. The old wizard's mouth was moving. He was saying his name.

"Rohbier. Rohbier. Bring the ring to me. Come."

Unwittingly, Rohbier began to move. The ocean beckoned him. The voice called for him. It was now a woman's voice. It was the most beautiful voice that he had ever heard.

"Come to me, Rohbier. Bring me the ring."

As the young boy walked, he entered a forest. Rohbier followed the path completely unaware of the many eyes that watched him. The dense forest contained Ents and Dryads that followed his every move with the ring. Each hoped that the boy would deliver it to its new master.

"Bring the ring to me, Rohbier," said the voice again.

Rohbier emerged from the forest. Wind blew across his face, the salt in it was now exceptionally strong. Before him stood a massive oak tree. Its trunk was nearly as big around as a castle's turret. Its many great branches were gnarled and twisted. To its right, appeared to be a recently planted Maple Sapling. It was from it that the voice came.

"Give the ring to me, Rohbier", it said.

Unable to stop himself, Rohbier did as he was told. He reached out his hand with the ring in it.

A slender branch of the sapling extended toward him. It passed through the center of the ring and began to lift it from the boy's hand.

"Thank you, Rohbier. You have served me well. Now walk to the cliff's edge and jump off it."

"Stop where you are, Rohbier!" shouted a voice from behind him. "Grab the ring, from the sapling!"

Suddenly aware of his surroundings, Rohbier saw the ring on the branch of the tree. As he went to grab it, a mighty limb from the oak tree smashed into him sending him flying.

Dazed, Rohbier watched what was happening around him as he lay on the ground. He could smell smoke. The forest was on fire. He saw several Tree People run from the forest, their branches aflame. They ran off the cliff and plunged into the ocean below.

Elven archers shot flaming arrows into the Oak Tree, which Rohbier noticed for the first time had an evil face. It swung its massive branches at the archers who were careful to stay out of its reach.

As he sat up, Rohbier noticed that the sapling was slowly creeping away from the fight using its roots like limbs. He stood up and steadied himself. Seeing the sapling nearing the woods, Rohbier took off after it.

"Not so fast!" Rohbier said as he grabbed the sapling by its slender trunk. He yanked the ring from its branch and threw the young tree toward the cliff. He watched it as it soared over the edge. He placed the ring on his finger in time to hear the wizard inside of it yell, "Look out!"

A hand reached out and grabbed hold of some grass near the edge of the cliff. It was a woman's hand. Another hand shot up and got ahold of more grass. Soon a head and the upper torso of the woman climbed over the top of the cliff.

"Run, Rohbier! That is the sorceress that masqueraded as the sapling. She is the servant of the dark lord that pretends to be the Oak tree. Run! You cannot let her get ahold of me again!" cried the voice within the ring.

A thunderous noise stopped Rohbier in his tracks. The Oak Tree was ripping itself up from the ground. It was engulfed in flame. A single crow landed on its top branch and then quickly flew away.

"He got away," came Fazil's voice from the ring.

"Who did?" asked Rohbier.

"The Dark Lord," responded a voice from behind him.

Rohbier turned to see the face of an Elf commander.

A thunderous noise interrupted the conversation. Turning, they saw the mammoth oak tree completely ablaze fall backward and over the cliff. While they were distracted, the sorceress turned herself into a mite and made her way onto the boot of the Elf commander.

"My name is Tellaris," said the Elf. "I came to bring news to your king that the Dragon Men are in full rout. They flee the battlefield. Where can I find him?"

"I am Rohbier. King Delonok went off to join the battle. He left me in charge of the ring."

"I see that you did a fine job protecting it. If my archers and I hadn't spotted you entering the forest, the ring might now belong to the Dark Lord."

"Where is the sorceress?" Fazil asked from the ring.

Rohbier looked around. There was no sign of her.

"I do not see her."

"I still feel her presence. She is still nearby. Be careful, Rohbier," warned Fazil.

"Come with me, Rohbier," Tellaris said. "I will escort you back to my king. Perhaps along the way, we may find King Delonok. The forest is engulfed in fire. We will have to go around."

Tellaris signaled his archers and the group began to move out. The mite on his boot climbed higher and then entered a fold in a sash that the elf wore around his waist.

"I better settle in. This could be a long journey," the sorceress thought to herself.

*****

It was early evening by the time the group found King Flynlann. He was seated by a fire along with King Delonok and a gathering of their top commanders. The group was sharing stories of the battle, laughing, eating and drinking. It was a celebration of their joint victory.

Seeing Rohbier, Delonok rose.

"Rohbier! Come join us! Did you take care of the ring as I asked?"

"Not exactly," interrupted Tellaris.

"What do you mean?" Flynlann said, now also on his feet.

For the next few minutes, Tellaris explained fighting through the forest and the battle against the Dark Lord at the cliff.

"Is what Tellaris says true?" asked Delonok.

"Do you doubt my commander, Delonok?" King Flynlann asked turning to look at his friend and longtime ally.

"Of course not. But I do want to hear it from Rohbier."

Rohbier dropped his head. "I am sorry, my king, but every word of what he said is true."

"And what of the sorceress?" asked Flynlann.

"We were unable to find her," said Tellaris.

"Hand me the ring, Rohbier. Perhaps Fazil might have some idea," ordered King Delonok.

"Give the ring to me, Rohbier," said Flynlann, holding out his hand.

"What is the meaning of this, Flynlann?" Delonok said taking a step toward the Elf King.

Both Humans and Elves went for their weapons as the two kings now stood nose to nose.

"It was your job to protect this ring, Delonok. Instead of doing that, you rode off to join in the glory of battle. You left the ring in the care of this boy," Flynlann said pointing at Rohbier. "The ring and Fazil were nearly lost to us this day due to your poor judgment."

"You chastise me in front of my men, Flynlann. For that, I cannot forgive you. However, there is wisdom in your words. The ring is yours. Hand it to him, Rohbier. You may have it but at the cost of a friend and ally."

"I am willing to bear that cost if it means protecting the ring," Flynlann said.

"Then we are done here. Commander Richter?!"

"Yes, King Delonok!"

"Order the men to make ready to head back to Zeizendol."

"As you wish!" snapped Richter then turned and headed off.

"So long, Flynlann. Take care of the ring," Delonok said with a nod and then walked off after Richter.

"I will," was all the Flynlann could muster as he watched his friend go.

"This could not have turned out better," said the sorceress to herself from inside the sash that Tellaris wore.

None gathered around the fire could hear her wicked laugh.

*****

The once lush fields were trampled under. The ground was littered with the bodies of dead Humans and Elves. Tellaris tugged on the reins of his stag, gently guiding the proud creature around the corpses. In the distance, the blackened remains of two farmhouses still smoldered, their dark grayish smoke eventually mingling with the early morning sky. Two Elven Bolt Throwers sat abandoned to his left. Tellaris shook his head. He thought of a time long ago when Men and Elves stood side by side in a long terrible war against the Dragon Men.

"Complete madness," he said to himself.

It had been three days since he had left his homeland of Frenora. He had determined that he was not being followed despite-the-fact that he was both a deserter and thief. "Perhaps they are not fully aware of the magnitude of my treachery, eh, Anar?" he said to his mount. "Then again, maybe they just don't care. Their arrogance will be their undoing."

The pair reached the tree line. Tellaris spun the animal and surveyed the land that they had crossed. There was no one. As they entered the woods, Tellaris patted his pocket. He could feel the hard form of the object within it. Tellaris smiled. In just a few short days, he would deliver the object to its new owner.

*****

Delonar reread the message again. After over a dozen times, he still could not believe it. His longtime foe, Flynlann was dead. The Lord of Elves had finally met his demise. It seemed that age had done what he had not been able to do; kill the ruler of Frenora.

The message had been sent to him from Flynlann's widow, Queen Janaria. She was asking for a truce between the two warring nations.

We have both lost sons. Hasn't there been enough bloodshed? Let us end this. With the Orc Armies approaching our borders from the South, let us unite our kingdoms against the common foe. I no longer have a husband and you no longer have a wife. We can solidify this truce and unite our realms as one with a simple marriage. I know what I propose is bold, but I can see no other way to save both of our lands.

The King of Zeizendol had seen the wisdom in her words. After nearly twenty years of war, the two nations had devastated one another's armies and resources. If the war continued, neither side would be strong enough to fend off the Orcs. To protect his people, Delonar had accepted the Elf Queen's offer. Since his wife had died in childbirth seven years ago and with the death of his son, Malcolm, in the war, the truth was that Delonar had been a very sad and lonely man. In his heart, he welcomed the idea of companionship.

Scouts had reported that Janaria and her honor guard were about five days out. Preparations were being made to welcome the new guests. If all went well, Delonar was confident that the future of his kingdom would be secure.

*****

The guards at the Old Stone Bridge spotted a lone rider seated atop of a stag. From a distance, the rider appeared to be unarmed. Veterans of the Elf War, the guards knew that Elves were cunning and not to be trusted. The rider most likely concealed his weapons.

"Halt where you are, Elf! Do not come closer!" yelled one of the men.

"I mean you no harm!" responded the rider. "I have an important message for your king! I must speak to him!"

"State your business!"

"Your king's life is in danger! I have proof of it! I must see him!"

The guards looked at one another.

"How do we know that we can trust him?" one asked.

"We don't," the Captain of the Guard responded.

He turned to the Elf.

"Dismount from your beast! I will send two of my men to you! You will be bound! If you resist, you will die!"

"I accept!" yelled the Elf as he climbed down off his mount.

Within minutes the Elf was subdued and brought to the Captain of the Guard.

"He put up no fight and he has no weapons. We did find this in his pocket."

The man held up a ring. The ring was made of gold. Ancient runes were engraved upon its band. Its face contained a large opal. The craftsmanship of the ring was beyond compare.

"I must deliver that ring to your king," insisted the Elf. "It contains information that will save his life. This I swear to you on my honor."

The Captain of the Guard looked the Elf up and down. There was something in his manner and his sense of urgency that made the man believe him. He nodded to the men on either side of the captive.

"If he so much as breathes wrong, kill him."

He stepped toward the Elf and looked him directly in his almond-shaped green eyes.

"Don't make me regret this."

"I gave you my word," the Elf said, not breaking the stare. "My intentions are to protect the life of your sovereign...for the sake of both of our kingdoms."

*****

Delonar stood looking out of the window of his chambers. His mind raced. Thoughts of events that were about to unfold fought for consideration in his head. A knock on the massive oak door that barred entrance to his quarters jarred him back into the moment.

Slowly the door opened.

"Your Highness, please forgive me," came the nervous voice of the king's personal guard.

"Speak, Sir Tomlin."

"Your Highness, I was just informed that the guards by the Old Stone Bridge intercepted an Elf rider. They said that he told them that he has an urgent message for you; some type of warning. He was unarmed. The only thing on his person was this ring. He claims that it is a gift for you."

Tomlin held up the ring.

"Bring it to me, Tomlin."

The guard strode forward and placed the ring in the king's hand.

"It is quite unique, Your Majesty,"

"Indeed, Tomlin. There are some symbols on the band. They are unknown to me. Where is this Elf?"

"The guards are holding him in the dungeon."

"Make sure that he is unarmed and is of no threat. Then, bring him to me."

"As you wish," Tomlin said with a bow and then headed for the door.

Delonar studied the ring as it sat in the palm of his hand. The gold was like none he had ever seen before. Its sheen was unparalleled. The opal stone on the front was large and its surface was as smooth as the surface of a lake on a windless day. A myriad of colors danced endlessly within the stone. Delonar felt a faint tingling sensation in his palm where the object sat.

"You are quite fascinating!" he said to the ring.

*****

The group made its way along the earthen roads of Zeizendol. The entourage was thirteen strong. At its head road Janaria on a magnificent white unicorn. She was flanked by her honor guard, each perched upon a midnight black stallion. Her guards wore identical purple and gold armor, the ceremonial armor of the Royal House of Frenora.

Janaria looked at the young guard who rode beside her.

"You seem to be ill at ease, Tannath," she said to the guard.

"I am fine. I assure you," responded the guard.

"Do not lie to your mother, Tannath. I can tell by the look on your face that something troubles you."

"It's just that I miss him."

"I miss your father as well. But what needed to be done is done. We had to look out for the greater good to ensure the survival of Frenora. Your father was stubborn. He would have kept up the senseless war with the Humans out of sheer pride. It would have left us weak and vulnerable. With the Orcs approaching, the war had to stop. After the death of your brother, I had to do this, Tannath."

"I miss Kamus too. We are alone, Mother."

Janaria reached out and touched her son on the shoulder.

"Look at me, Tannath. We are not alone. All of Frenora is with us."

"I know, Mother."

"Soon, we will be joined with Zeizendol. After we take care of a little matter, I will be the queen of both realms and you will rule at my side. One day, Tannath, this will all be yours. You will be the great king of a vast empire. I do these things for you, my son."

"And for Frenora."

"And for Frenora," echoed the queen.

In the distance, Janaria could begin to see the towers of the castle of Zeizendol appear through the mists.

"We will be there in a few days," Janaria said, nodding toward the castle. "You remembered to bring the wedding present for King Delonar."

A look of panic spread across Tannath's face.

"I thought that you had the ring," Tannath said to his mother.

"Why would you think that?" asked the queen, anger growing in her voice.

"Didn't you take it from father's finger?"

"No, Tannath. It was not there. I thought that you took it from him after you...."

"I'll send a rider back to retrieve it. It must be in your chamber. Someone should be able to find it."

"No. We will have to do without it. It is too late. King Delonar will have to find me prize enough."

Janaria turned and faced the castle. The group continued forward, never breaking the regal pace that they had been riding at since they left Frenora.

"I hope that you do not mess this up for me, Tannath. There is too much at stake. With your father out of the way, the future holds great things for me. It's too bad that you will never get to see it, my young foolish son." Janaria thought to herself and grinned.

*****

King Delonar stared at the Elf. It had been many years since he had laid eyes on one in person. The Elf stood tall, his posture perfect. His long white hair was swept back in a ponytail. His green eyes showed deep concern. He seemed to be old for an Elf, but their age was often hard to determine. Unlike Humans, Elves could live for hundreds of years. The Elf was dressed in simple brown leather riding clothes and boots. A forest green hooded cloak hung from his shoulders.

"Speak, Elf," demanded the king.

"I am here to warn you about an attempt on your life."

"And who is it that wishes to take my life?"

"Queen Janaria."

The guards and advisers assembled in the throne room looked at one another. A nervous buzz of voices filled the room after the elf's announcement.

"Your queen wishes to kill me?"

"She is not my queen," responded the Elf.

"Then you are from another tribe. Where do you come from, Elf?"

"I am Frenoran, Your Highness. But I am a loyal subject of King Flynlann, not his treacherous wife."

"Be careful with your words, Elf," warned the king. "Why is it that you believe that Janaria wishes me harm?"

"If you will allow me, I can show you. Did your guard present you with the ring?"

"Indeed. It is most magnificent. I thank you for it."

"Do not thank me. It is a gift from King Flynlann."

Laughter broke out in the room.

"Do not be absurd, Elf. Flynlann is dead."

"I only wish that I could have saved him."

The laughter subsided.

"Saved him? Saved him from what? He died of old age."

"That is what they wish you to believe, Your Highness."

"Who is they?"

"Queen Janaria and Prince Tannath. They come here to end your life the same way that they ended King Flynlann's with treachery and deceit. I assure you, my king was murdered."

"These are bold claims, Elf. What proof do you have of this?"

"I asked you a moment ago if you had the ring. If you place the ring on your finger, you will have all of the proof that you need."

"No, Your Highness!" shouted an advisor.

"It might be a trick!" yelled another.

More shouts joined the warnings.

"Elves cannot be trusted!"

"He could be an assassin!"

"Enough!" yelled the king.

He had had the ring cupped in his hand the entire time. He had grown to like the tingling sensation that the ring emitted.

"If this is a trick, Elf, I will have you drawn and quartered. I will have your head presented to your queen on a silver platter."

"As I have stated, she is not my queen. This is no trick. I am trying to save your life and to preserve whatever peace that might exist between our races. The Orcs come. We must stand strong together."

"That is what my marriage to Janaria will do. That is what we both wish. Why then would she wish me dead?"

"I beg you. Believe me. I have risked my own life to bring you this warning. For the sake of Frenora and Zeizendol, please believe me," implored the Elf.

Tellaris kneeled before Delonar.

"I beg you, King Delonar, believe me."

Delonar looked down upon the Elf. He nodded and placed the ring on his finger.

"Elves do not beg. Rise,elf, I believe you."

Tellaris stood.

"Look into the stone. It has the ability to show you past events. I do not know how, but I have seen my king use it many times. It will show you what you need to know."

The king raised his hand to his face and began to gaze into the stone.

"I see images. Faces. I see my father."

Oohs and awes could be heard in the room.

"I see two others with him. Come to me, Elf. Tell me who they are."

"That is King Flynlann to your father's right. The other being is a wizard by the name of Fazil. He disappeared long ago."

"They look happy. They are smiling and laughing. They seem to be friends."

"They were. It was the three of them that forged the great alliance between our kingdoms. It was that alliance that allowed for the defeat of the Dragon Men and the long peace that lasted until..."

"Until when, Elf?"

"Until shortly after my king married Janaria. Something changed in her after the birth of their children. It was as if she became someone else."

The images in the ring also began to change. Delonar could see the Elf king sitting on his thrown. He held a parchment I his left hand. Janaria was yelling at him. She circled him over and over. The king's head hung low. He was shaking it back and forth. Janaria continued to yell and circle him.

The Elf king sprang up and screamed at Janaria. She handed him a quill. He signed a parchment that he held in his hand and then gave it to her. Janaria looked at the signature on the parchment and smiled.

"That was the declaration of war against Zeizendol. Janaria convinced him that your people were encroaching upon our borders and killing game in our sacred hunting grounds. King Flynlann knew these things not to be true but could not stand the berating. He signed it to silence her."

"And thousands on both sides died as a result, including my son." said the king.

The images changed again. King Flynlann was on a bed. There was a figure clad all in black standing over him. The figure jerked its head up suddenly. For a split second, you could see its face.

"That is Prince Tannath, the assassin of my king," said the Elf.

The figure in black quickly ran to a window and slipped out it.

"That is when I entered King Flynlann's chambers. It was I who found my beloved king dead."

The image in the stone faded.

Delonar stared at the Elf.

"It is sorcery and witchcraft!" yelled someone in the room.

"Do not trust him," yelled another.

"I took the ring from his finger. I knew it would remember what had happened. I knew it would be the only way that I could convince you."

Tellaris stared at the king. He had played his only card. He hoped that it had been good enough.

"I believe him," Delonar said and held out his right hand.

For a moment, the Elf hesitated. Elves detested physical contact with anyone outside of their immediate family. It was abhorrent to them.

Tellaris grasped the king's hand and shook it.

"Thank you, Your Highness." said the Elf with a nod.

"I ask you to pledge your loyalty to me for the good of both of our races. Will you do that?"

"I will under one condition," responded the Elf, still shaking the hand of the king.

"And what might that condition be?" Delonar asked.

"That you call me by my name as your father did."

"You knew my father?"

"I fought alongside him in the Draconian War. Delonok was a great warrior. Your father would be proud of you."

"Tell me your name, Elf"

"I am Tellaris of Frenora."

"Then, Tellaris of Frenora, you must call me Delonar. That is what my friends call me," said the king with a wink.

"Thank you for believing me," Tellaris said to the king.

"Are you hungry? Come let us eat. We have much to plan before our honored guests arrive," the king said with a laugh.

The crowd slowly began to exit the throne room, amazed by the events that had just transpired.

*****

Torches had been lit, to illuminate the way for Janaria's entourage as they neared the castle. The drawbridge was lowered and the gate raised. The castle guard stood upon the ramparts to add to the ceremonial welcoming of the guests. Trumpets announce the arrival of the Queen of the Elves.

Many of the Kingdom's Lords and Ladies stood in the courtyard to welcome Queen Janaria. Seeing those gathered in her honor, Janaria smiled and waved.

"My loyal subjects," she thought to herself. "Fools. You have no idea what I have in store for you."

Immaculately dressed pages dressed in the royal blue and gold colors of House Zeizendol came to help the queen dismount. They took her unicorn and the guards' horses off to the royal stables.

"Your Majesty, King Delonar awaits you. This way if you please," announced one of the pages.

*****

"Stay near me at all times," the king instructed Tellaris. "Quietly tell me anything and everything that you might think that I should know."

"You have my word, Delonar," Tellaris said. He was now dressed as a court jester. A half royal blue and half gold mask covered his elven features.

"I know," said the king. "Come, let us not keep our guests waiting."

Delonar majestically made his way to the head of the long oak table that stood in the center of the Great Hall. On both sides stood the kingdom's nobles and wives, which had made their way in from the courtyard. At the opposite end of the table stood Queen Janaria. Behind her along the far wall stood her honor guard.

Tellaris leaned toward the king. The third one from the right is Tannath. She had hoped to disguise him as a member of her guard.

Delonar nodded slightly.

"Queen Janaria, welcome to my home. We of Zeizendol are pleased by your presence here. Tonight, we hold this banquet in your honor. I hope that you find the food to your liking. Please be seated."

Janaria was seated along with the lords and ladies of Zeizendol. The Queen's guards continued to stand at attention never moving.

Delonar took his place at the head of the table. Tellaris remained standing at his side. Reaching forward the king picked up his chalice.

"To the Queen of the Elves! May Zeizendol always feel like home to you!" Delonar said smugly.

Janaria raised her goblet.

To the great King of Zeizendol! May the future bring you all that you deserve!"

The guests raised their glasses. "Here, here!" cheered the guests in unison.

"Sheep to the slaughter," Janaria whispered to herself

*****

When dinner had ended, Delonar dismissed the royal guests. Janaria did the same with her guard.

"Let us get down to the business of state," Delonar said to the Elf queen as he led her to a small drawing room.

"Please be seated. Is there anything else that I may offer you before we begin?"

"No thank you. The banquet was extraordinary. I appreciate your attention to detail."

"May I call you Janaria?"

"If it pleases you."

"Then you must call me Delonar." said the king as he took a seat opposite from her at a small table.

He looked into her eyes. They were large, soft, and pale green in color. He couldn't imagine that those eyes belonged to a ruthless cold-hearted killer.

"Where shall we begin, Janaria?"

"Let us first set the terms of the treaty and alliance. Then, let us talk of the wedding that will solidify them."

"Affairs of state first then. Please, tell me what you are thinking."

The two monarchs talked until the wee hours of the morning. All details were discussed and agreed upon including the arrangements of the marriage. To his surprise, Janaria told Delonar that she did not wish their marriage to be one of convenience. She told her soon-to-be-husband that a child between them would forever unite the two kingdoms. Before they retired for the night, Janaria gently kissed the King of Zeizendol on the cheek.

"Very cunning," Delonar thought to himself as he watched her leave the drawing room.

*****

Tannath entered his mother's room after he was sure that the castle was silent for the night. She sat in front of a mirror brushing her long white hair. She smiled upon seeing her son's reflection.

"How are you, Tanneth? You look tired."

"I am, Mother. It was a long ride. I am not used to wearing heavy armor. After some rest, I am sure that I will be fine."

"I need you to be. We have a lot at stake here, my son."

"I am aware. I will not let you down."

"You will not let down all of Frenora," corrected the queen.

The young prince nodded.

Janaria stood and walked to a window.

"The day after tomorrow, Tannath, I will be wed to that old fool, Delonar. I will be queen of all these lands and you will be prince. One week from that marriage, you will eliminate Delonar. With the treaty in place, we will move the armies of Zeizendol and Frenora against the Orcs. It all hinges on the death of the king. Do not let me down."

"I will not. I promise you, Mother."

Janaria walked to her son. She took his face in her hands and gently kissed him on the cheek.

"Go rest. Soon, all will be as we wish it. Good night, Tannath."

Good night, Mother."

Tanneth left the room careful to close the door quietly behind him.

Janaria returned to her seat in front of the mirror and began brushing her hair. The visage in the mirror grinned an evil grin back at her.

*****

The wedding ceremony was held in the courtyard of the castle. It was filled with pomp and pageantry. Flowers decorated every nook and cranny. Trumpets blew. White doves were released. Everything was a perfect as the King of Zeizendol could make it for his new queen. The entire event was scrutinized by a set of green eyes hidden behind a blue and gold mask.

When the wedding ended, the two monarchs announced the treaty between their kingdoms and that forevermore the lands would be united. Zeizendol and Frenora were now one.

*****

The following week went by quickly. Janaria and Delonar busied themselves with affairs of state. Plans were made for Janaria to tour the lands of Zeizendol and then the pair would be off to Frenora to show Delonar the magical realm of the Elves. Military arrangements were being set in motion to put in place a joint command for the armies of the two kingdoms. Discussions took place about sending emissaries to the Mountain Elves, the Dwarven Kingdoms, and to the Human barbarian lords that ruled the wastelands to the east to join in the war against the Orcs.

Delonar was tired. All the arrangements that had been made had worn on him. After dinner, he turned to Janaria and kissed her on her forehead.

"My queen, I have had enough for today. I am off to bed. We will resume our talks in the morning."

Janaria nodded. She took his hand and squeezed it. Looking up into his eyes, she could see his exhaustion.

"Sleep well, Delonar. So much has changed and so much more will change. Rest now. I am not quite ready for bed. I wish to sit here by the fire for a while. It helps to calm my mind."

Delonar patted her hand that was in his and smiled.

"I will see you in the morning then. Good night, Janaria."

She watched Delonar leave and then turned her attention back to the fire in the massive stone fireplace, confident that she would never see the man alive again.

*****

Tannath entered the window of the king's chambers without making a sound. It had been child's play. The stone construction of the castle had made it easy for him to find hand and footholds as he made his way up to the chamber from the courtyard. His Elven dexterity had made the climb a simple one.

He paused on the window sill and surveyed the room's darkened interior. He could make out the sleeping form of the king on the massive bed. The only sound was the deep breathing of the exhausted monarch.

Tanneth lowered himself to the floor. Crouching down, he reached into his right boot and removed a small silver vile. Carefully he stood and uncorked the vessel. Inside it was a deadly poison. Tannath would pour a few drops into the sleeping king's mouth. The poison was quick acting. Delonar would be dead in a matter of moments. Tannath smiled. Soon everything would be as his mother had planned. Frenora would be supreme.

*****

Janaria was still seated by the fire when her son came to her. He was clad in all black and emerged from the shadows into the firelight.

"It is done, Mother."

Janaria looked up at her son and nodded.

"Go to your room and wait. A great calamity is about to start. If all goes according to plan, by morning, you and I will be the rulers of a great empire."

Tannath smiled and quietly reentered the shadows from which he had come.

Janaria toyed with a crystal that hung from a gold chain that was around her neck. The center of the crystal was hollow. It contained the very same poison that Tannath had used to kill his father and Delonar. It would be the poison that Janaria would give her son upon their return to Frenora. Janaria smiled at the thought.

"Then, I will be the most powerful woman in this world," she thought to herself.

She stood and gazed into the fire one more time. In the flames, the face of a demon began to emerge.

"It is time," the face said. "The poison should have taken its toll by now. Go give your best performance. Once again, play the role of the sad pathetic widow. Go now!"

"Yes, my Lord," muttered Janaria.

The face vanished. The Queen of the Elves took a torch from the wall and left the drawing room. As she made her way up the winding steps of the castle she was acutely alert to the complete silence. The only sound was her own footsteps on the stone stairs. She smirked. Her scream upon finding her dead husband would be heard throughout the castle.

Janaria slowly entered the chamber and stopped. The room was silent. She could not detect any sound of the human breathing.

She placed the torch into the sconce on the wall and then crossed the floor to the bed. She rolled the body onto its back. As she lowered her head to double check the breathing, she saw it, but it was too late.

From behind the smiling blue and gold mask of the jester came the words, "Hello, my Queen."

She saw the green eyes and immediately knew the voice. It was Tellaris!

From behind her, another voice spoke. "Were you expecting someone else, my Queen?"

Janaria's mouth fell open.

The King of Zeizendol moved forward from the shadow into the torchlight. Behind him stood the gagged form of her son between two of his house guards.

"Tellaris supplied me with an antidote. Wipe that stupid look of shock from your face. It doesn't look very regal."

Grasping the moment, Janaria turned to run.

"Seize her!" Tellaris yelled as he raised himself from the bed and removed the mask.

Two Elven guards blocked the doorway. Two more emerged from the shadows and grabbed Janaria by the arms.

"What is going on here? Unhand me! I am your queen! Delonar, order them to release me!"

"Shut your mouth, Janaria."

"How dare you speak to me like that, Human. I am the Queen of Frenora. I order you to let go of me!" said as she struggled to break free of the guards.

Tellaris moved in front of Janaria. Watching her struggle brought a smile to his lips.

"It is over, Janaria. I have been on to you since you killed King Flynlann."

"It was him. It was Tannath. He killed Flynlann. He seduced me...his own mother. He made me his pawn in this scheme to take over Zeizendol. Delonar, please believe me."

"I told you to shut up!" roared Delonar.

"There is a pawn here, Janaria, "Tellaris said. "But it is not you. Tannath knows the truth and has admitted his part in all of this. You both will return to me to Frenora to stand trial. We will leave it up to the High Court to determine your fate."

"Mother, how could you do this? To me...to my father?"

"Silence, Tannath. Do not believe them. They fill your head with lies. Tellaris is power-hungry. It is he who is behind this. He is in a league with these Humans."

"You lie, Mother. I have seen the truth in the ring."

"Ring? What ring?"

"This one," Delonar said holding up his hand to show her the ring upon it.

Janaria's mouth fell open in disbelief.

"How...how did you get it?"

She looked at Tannath.

"You were supposed to take it!" screamed the Elf Queen

"Except that I entered the room before he could. The ring showed me the assassination. I took it and made my way here. I had to stop you, Janaria, before another great leader died."

Tellaris turned to Delonar.

"Your Majesty, if I may intrude upon you. I have need of two cells in your dungeon. Would you mind?"

"By all means," Delonar said with a smile. "Have your guards take them down."

"I will not be held captive by the likes of you!" screamed Janaria.

Her body went limp and fell to the floor. Black smoke began to emerge from her open mouth. As it rose into the air, a face began to emerge.

"Fools! I cannot be caged. I am Kraliatt, the Dark Sorceress! I serve but one, the Dark Lord himself. He cannot be stopped. This world will be his. His Legions of the Damned will destroy you. The mindless Orcs have been tricked into doing our bidding. We come. You will all die!"

The black smoke dissipated.

The group stood silently in the room, stunned about what had just transpired.

A soft moan was heard. It came from the collapsed form of Janaria on the floor.

Tellaris rushed to her.

"My Queen, you are alive!"

"Tellaris! I am free. She had a hold on me. I could not stop her."

Janaria looked up at her son.

"Tannath, this is not your fault. She twisted you. My son, this is not your fault," Janaria cried.

"Yes, it is, Mother. I could have chosen not to do as she wished. But I did. She may have tricked me into believing it was for the good of Frenora, but the actions were still mine."

The room went silent. After a few moments, Delonar broke it.

"Tellaris, in lieu of recent events, I will not send them to the dungeon. Instead, I will have guest quarters made up for Janaria and Tannath. They have been through enough. I will defer to you to see what you feel is just in accordance with the laws of your people. It is late, we will discuss these matters and the matter of the safety of our kingdoms in the morning."

Tellaris nodded.

Delonar turned to one of the guards.

"Tomlin, see to it that rooms are prepared for our guests," ordered the king. "Go now, all of you. Leave me."

Tellaris helped Janaria up from the floor.

"If I may stay for a few moments?" she asked.

Delonar nodded. The others left the room. Janaria went to the door and closed it.

She walked over to Delonar and took his hand. She escorted him to the bed. They both sat.

"Listen to me, King of Zeizendol, I wish your full attention," she said looking directly into his eyes.

He stared back at her and nodded.

"While it is true that I myself did not speak the words of matrimony to you, I will abide by them none-the-less. You are a good man. Frenora needs a king, especially now. We must unite. The lives of our subjects depend upon it and us. If you will agree to have me, I would be honored to be your queen."

"You are amazing, Janaria," Delonar said. "The honor would be mine. I will try to be a good husband."

"And I, a good wife to you," responded Janaria, and kissed him.

*****

The following morning, Tannath would be found dead in his bed. In his hand was the crystal that had hung from his mother's neck. Its contents had been emptied. A note was found on a table stating that he could not deal with the fact that he had killed his father and that he hoped his mother could find a way to forgive him.

A messenger was sent to notify the subjects of Frenora of the death of their prince. The sovereigns of the united kingdoms would decree a week of mourning. Black banners were ordered hung in both castles.

Janaria was devastated. Her entire family was gone. Delonar did his best to console his new bride.

It would take the birth of their twins ten months later to lift the queen from her funk. The boy and girl, Janar and Denora, half Elf and half Human, would be the tie to bind the realms together forever as the royal families were merged into one.

*****

Tellaris became the emissary of the united kingdoms to the other nations. He was given the ring to show the rulers of other lands what had transpired and the enormous threat that was coming. Because of his great diplomacy, the Mountain Elves, Dwarves, and some barbarian lords joined the war against the Dark Legions and their Orc puppets. It would take more than fifteen years for the Allies to defeat the Dark Forces.

Somewhere in his travels, Tellaris was lost. His fate, unknown. Statues of him were ordered erected in both lands. They were dedicated to the great Elf who risked everything to save two kingdoms. Engraved upon their bases were the words:

Tellaris

Bearer of the Ring

Bringer of the Truth

Idiots Find the Ring

By Scott Lee

Bones and skulls lay scattered across the floor of the large temple room as Barthur wiped down his sword, his breath still heavy from the battle that just took place.

"Why the hell are you wiping off your sword, dumbass?" yelled Durg from across the room. "There's no blood! Skeletons don't bleed!"

Barthur just glared at his comrade and finished wiping off the sword.

"Bite me," screamed Barthur. "It's habit."

Looking up, the fighter saw the thief slowly running his hands along the large altar, as if searching for something.

"And what the heck are you doing?"

"Searching for a hidden door to a treasure room," he yelled back.

"They're undead, you idiot!" yelled Barthur. "They don't care about treasure!"

"Keep it down, you imbeciles!" yelled Gabriel. "Every wandering monster in the area will hear you!"

"YOU keep it down!" replied Barthur, angrily, his voice echoing off the temple walls. "If you had just turned the damn things we wouldn't have had to waste valuable time fighting them."

"Hey! It's not as easy as it looks!" barked the cleric in defense. "I have no idea why it didn't work. Skeletons are normally an easy turn."

"They were pretty tough skeletons, if you ask me," yelled Durg from across the room. "Tougher than any that I can remember."

"Guys, shut UP!" yelled Iggy.

Over the next thirty seconds, the thief, cleric and fighter proceeded to argue amongst themselves, each one blaming the other for the noises that were now echoing throughout the temple. Then, without warning, all three went completely silent, their mouths still moving.

All three of the men stopped abruptly and turned to look at the young wizard who was standing nearby, an angry look on his face.

"Idiots," he muttered. "You made me do it."

As the magic user turned to walk away, he suddenly stopped as a sound echoed from one of the distant hallways that led from the main temple room.

"Son-of-a-bitch," he grumbled, turning to caste another angry look at his three now silent friends.

Although they couldn't make a sound from the mute spell that had been caste upon them, the three party members could still hear everything around them just fine. And all three also heard the noise in the distance.

A wandering monster was coming.

Temples and dungeons were full of monsters, often placed there as guardians by the ones who built the place. In other cases, the monsters just found the abandoned locales to be a suitable new home. Quite often you could find dozens roaming the maze like corridors of large temples and dungeons, and now one (or more) was coming. Drawn to the sound of the argument.

In a matter of seconds the sounds were upon them, and a moment later two large dungeon trolls stormed into the huge room, pieces of the stone door frame exploding apart to make way for their huge, hulking forms.

Dungeon trolls were similar to their bridge troll cousins, except that they were larger, stronger, and perpetually pissed off. Where bridge trolls were thin, green and somewhat wiry, the dungeon troll was heavy and muscular, with leathery gray skin and yellow eyes.

As soon as the monsters entered the room, the party reacted, each of them calling out to the other to organize their attack . . . except they couldn't. As each tried to yell, they all had the same moment of realization. They were still muted!

Chaos ensued as the fighter, cleric and thief launched their attacks, their mouths wide with unheard battle cries. None of the three had bothered to look at Iggy, who had been prepping a spell from the moment he heard the trolls approaching. Weapons ablaze, the three idiots sprinted across the room toward the trolls just as the magic user unleashed his spell.

Fortunately, none of the three ran very fast, and they were still fifteen feet from their quarry when the ball of fire exploded in front of them, the force of the blast knocking them off their feet. Being more dexterous, the thief was up quickly, now running in the opposite direction. Gabriel, now on his knees, was pawing frantically at his long blond hair, which was now on fire.

"Drop and roll! Drop and roll!" screamed Barthur, the mute spell now disrupted by the fireball.

Nearby, Gabriel had extinguished the flames in his hair just in time to see a burned and angry dungeon troll barreling down on him. Diving to his left, he narrowly avoided a crushing blow as two massive fists slammed onto the stone floor where he was just kneeling. Mace in hand, he swung hard at the closest fist, the magical weapon making solid contact with an exposed thumb, the appendage breaking with an audible snap.

The dungeon troll howled with rage as it pulled back its fist, its dark gray lips peeling back to reveal blackened teeth.

"Oh shit," muttered Gabriel.

Without hesitation the cleric turned and ran, the wind from the trolls fist blowing past his neck. Bolting across the room, he reached the thief, who was again pawing frantically at the large stone altar near the back wall.

"What the hell are you doing?!" yelled Gabriel.

"There has to be a secret door here somewhere!" exclaimed Durg. "I swear those skeletons were guarding this spot!" he exclaimed, kicking aside part of a skeleton clad in silver armor. A skeleton that was especially hard to kill, as it had been carrying a huge sword in its bony right hand.

"We've got bigger problems!" said Gabriel, smacking his friend as he watched the troll advance.

"Buy me some time!" insisted Durg.

"Seriously?" replied Gabriel.

As the angry troll advanced toward him, he could see Barthur behind it, frantically running around the other oversized beast in an effort to steer clear of its attacks. It wasn't the bravest battle strategy, but at least it was keeping the monster occupied.

With his attention back on the oncoming troll, Gabriel readied his mace just as a lightning bolt crackled through the air, striking the troll in the groin. The creature dropped to the floor, just feet in front of the cleric, doubled over in excruciating pain. With a massive swing, Gabriel slammed his mace on the trolls head, a resounding crack echoing in the room.

Turning, he gave the magic user a questioning look.

"Seriously? You hit him in the balls?" he said with disbelief.

"I wasn't aiming for them," replied Iggy, defensively.

With one troll dead, the group focused their attention on the remaining foe. Despite a less than coordinated attack strategy, the party managed to take down the monster with a combination of sword, mace, daggers and bolts of magic.

When all was said and done, the quartet suffered only minor injuries, which were easily taken care of with a healing potion. Barthur, who slipped on a skull while running around the troll during the battle frenzy, suffered the worst of the injuries.

Exhausted from the back-to-back battles, the four moved to the wall near the altar to take a breather. As Iggy, Barthur and Gabriel dropped to the floor, Durg leaned against the stone altar, only to hear a soft click as his back pressed against the stone face. A second later, a large section of the altar slid open, revealing the secret door he had been searching for.

"Am I good or what?" he said smiling.

His companions could only shake their heads as they gazed into the darkness that lay beyond.

"Give me a torch," said Durg.

Grabbing a torch from the wall, Gabriel handed it to the thief, who quickly tossed it into the black. The flickering flame immediately illuminated a set of stone steps that ended ten feet down. Beyond the last step the group could see a room, and in the shadows they could see what appeared to be shelves.

"We need more light," requested Durg.

"I got this," said Iggy.

With the muttering of a few quick words, the stone at the end of his staff briefly exploded with light, momentarily blinding the group.

"Iggy!" exclaimed Gabriel. "What the hell?"

"Oops. Sorry guys," replied the wizard sheepishly. "Wrong cantrip. I always get light and flash confused."

Muttering again, the stone once again burst with light, but this time it was an expansive bluish light that was soft on the eyes, yet illuminated a full 50 feet into the room.

"Much better," declared Barthur, who was still rubbing eyes.

With their eyes recovered from the earlier flash, the group readied their weapons and slowly descended the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, the light revealed a 30 foot long room that was 20 feet wide and lined on both sides by racks that went floor to ceiling. On those racks were dusty bottles of wine.

"Seriously," muttered Durg. "Wine?"

"I told you skeletons don't care about treasure," said Barthur.

"Oh, and I suppose they like to drink wine, huh smartass?" replied Durg angrily.

"You're both morons," declared Iggy. "The wine was for the original temple inhabitants. Judging from the robes on those skeletons up there, I'm guessing it had been their temple."

"Well, what about that one with the silver armor and huge sword?" asked Barthur.

No sooner did the words leave the fighter lips when the entire party realized that they had forgotten rule number one of adventuring. Always check the dead for valuables.

Like battling children, Barthur and Durg fought their way up the steps, each one grabbing the other and pulling them back as they tried to ascend the stairs. Ultimately, it was Barthur who won, his boot print still imprinted on Durg's forehead as he made his way out of the altar opening and sprinted to where the remains of the silver clad skeleton lay. Reaching down, the fighter picked up the great sword, marveling at its size and beauty.

"Sweet!" he exclaimed.

As Barthur looked over the sword, the thief walked up next to him, still rubbing his forehead.

"You suck," muttered Durg. "That was a cheap shot."

"Quit your whining. You would have done the same," defended Barthur. "Besides, the sword's way to big for you anyways."

Durg knew he was right, but he really hated to lose.

Angrily he kicked the other arm of the silver clad skeleton that was lying a few feet away. To the thief's surprise a beautiful gold ring broke free from the skeletal fist, sliding across the floor. Like a cat catching a mouse, Durg pounced on the ring.

"Now this is more my size," smiled the thief.

Quickly he tucked the ring away inside his tunic, excited to see what it was worth when they got back to town. Elsewhere in the room his friends where coming up empty aside from the sword and armor.

With the remains thoroughly combed over, the adventurers proceeded to explore the remainder of the temple. A few giant spiders later (which included a hysterical scream of "RUN AWAY!!" by an arachnophobic wizard) and the group had collected another 100 gold pieces, prompting them to head straight to the nearest town and tavern.

Upon entering the establishment, the party found themselves a table and quickly ordered a round of ale for all. As the group laughed and recounted their recent adventure, none noticed the large, muscle bound fighter that had just walked into the room. As the huge man made his way past their table, a voice could be heard over the chatter, coming from the thief.

"Damn! You stink!"

Immediately the group went silent, with all eyes falling on Durg. The fighter stopped dead in his tracks, spinning to face the thief.

"What did you say, little man?" growled the warrior.

"I didn't say anything!" defended Durg.

"I know what I heard," replied the fighter, angrily. "You said I stink!"

Rising from his seat, Iggy tried to diffuse the situation.

"There's a lot of noise in here," said the wizard calmly. "I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding."

The fighter turned to face the magic user, his look still one of suspicion. After a moment, he nodded and turned to walk away.

"That's right. Move along stinky," came a voice from Durg.

Spinning in anger, the fighter grabbed the thief and tossed him over the adjacent table, sending drinks flying and landing him in a heap near the back door of the tavern. Seconds later, the room erupted into chaos.

As Durg shook off the cobwebs, he barely had time to focus when a huge fist grabbed him and threw him through the backdoor, sending him crashing into the grimy back alley of the bar. A moment later, the huge fighter was upon him again, tossing the smaller man near the back wall of the dead end alley.

Bruised and battered, the thief never saw the ring as it slid from his tunic upon impact with the stones. Nor did he see the fighter's huge boot stomp it into a gap in the stones as the huge man approached him to finish the job.

No, the thief didn't see any of it as he was too busy going into survival mode.

With the last toss, Durg had ended up a good 15 feet from the angry fighter, and it was just enough distance for him to prepare for the next assault. As the huge man stomped towards him, the thief feigned exhaustion and waited for his moment.

With the fighter just feet away, Durg sprang into action, pulling his dagger as he dove to his left past the outstretched arms of the surprised man. In a flash he drove his dagger into the fighters boot, the man screaming in pain.

Before the enraged warrior could spin around, Durg was already running full speed down the alley, passing his surprised friends as they emerged from the back exit to aid their friend. Hearing the angry curses from the huge fighter, none of them wasted any time as they joined the thief in his escape.

As the angry fighter limped back into the bar, and the four companions hightailed it out of the town, none of them heard the faint laughter from the back end of the alley. Laughter that was coming from inside the ring. The ring that was now wedged into the cobblestones and covered in muck. For it was Fazil who had used a ventriloquism cantrip to mimic the thief's voice. Created the conflict. And separated the ring from an inept group of adventurers.

"Idiots," was all it said.

Even My Bones Ache

By Doug Ward

Grady awoke to the sound of an empty bottle dropping to the wooden floor of his room. With a start, the old adventurer shot up into a seated position. His highly trained instincts seemed ready for battle through muscle memory alone, but his ale addled mind reeled from the sudden start.

"Another day," he sighed dragging a hand through his unruly mop of greasy, gray locks.

After throwing back his tattered blanket, Grady swung legs over the side of the bed. His left foot kicked the bottle that had recently slipped from his fingers and awakened him causing it to roll across the floor.

The grizzled warrior cursed the sound as he rose and stretched. Grady made his way to a small stand across the room. The table held a pitcher, bowel, and a dirty towel. The antique stand wobbled as he picked up the pitcher but the container felt far to light. Peering inside he remembered draining the wash water to quench his alcohol-induced thirst.

Cursing his luck, the battle-worn explorer rubbed his stubble covered chin and examined his reflection in the mirror. Although the warrior's vision wasn't good for close up things, he didn't need to squint to see the wrinkles and scars that crisscrossed his once fair face.

Grady remembered how he had taunted the older adventurers when he was young. The way he rode them hard about being has-beens, he had been so horrible to those poor fellows. Now, in hindsight, Grady apologized for his brash and rude ways.

Unable to continue looking at himself any longer he turned and made himself ready for the day. He had sweat through the clothes he had fallen asleep in so he replaced them with the cleanest pair of small clothes he had and stepped into his other pair of trousers. Lastly, he slipped a sleeveless tunic over his head as Grady dropped into a chair and pulled on his only pair of boots. As he pulled the high, soft leather uppers the stitching came apart at the seams.

Grady may have been somewhat sloppy, but being a trained fortune hunter he knew the importance of keeping up with his gear. If he couldn't afford to replace the boots he could certainly mend them. So, belly growling, the warrior took out a needle and thread and began to reinforce the seam.

Squinting hard, he was able to make out the hole in the needle and managed to insert some odd thread he had kept in a drawer. Lacking a thimble, Grady used an odd scrap of leather to protect his finger as he pushed the needle through the leather. It was just another practical thing he had picked up on some quest or another.

As he was already working on one boot, he inspected the other one and wound up mending two more areas that seemed to be getting worn. The sole of his left boot was a bit loose also, but that repair would require a cobbler and he had little coin for that so Grady would have to wait for better times before he could fix a slightly wobbling left boot.

After pulling on the newly mended footwear, the explorer walked about his small room for a moment, testing his handiwork.

As he moved about, the grizzled man could feel the ghosts of old injuries. Wounds he'd received on his various expeditions or while he sold his sword to various causes. But as Grady's body warmed up the specters of the past subsided to a dull ache, which was overshadowed by the aftereffects of the alcohol and his empty belly.

Snatching up his coin purse, the retired adventurer left his room and proceeded to a set of stairs on the outside of the building. These lead to an alley behind several taverns. Refuse from the ever-present garbage pile made it a bit hard to breathe but this place was the cheapest he could find to fit his diminishing savings.

Grady had retired at 37 years old. He had amassed a sizable amount of treasure and decided that his battered body had endured enough punishment. But without a mind for budgeting his savings, the coin he had planned to retire on was nearly gone. He had spent so lavishly after ending his career that he had gone through the bulk of his assets before he had realized it. Now, he was stuck living the life of a popper, selling off nearly everything of value he once had. The only belongings that Grady had left were his adventuring gear, armor, sword, pack, and some other mundane adventuring supplies. The wondrous magical items he once possessed had been sold so he could eat and sleep with a roof over his head. Even his fine sword and armor were traded for some coin and cheaper replacements.

Once he stepped off of the last tread, he strode down the worn cobblestone alleyway to his favorite tavern for some breakfast. As he neared the rear entrance something sparkled near the far wall. What would have sparked interest in the old scavenger was overridden by his hunger and lack of energy. Ignoring what he dismissed as a piece of glass, Grady continued forward to a rustic looking door. A wooden sign hanging precariously overhead marked the establishment as the Grimacing Goblin Inn. The door hinges squealed in protest as he pulled the handle outward exposing a semi-dark interior illuminated by several sputtering lanterns. If it wasn't for the rank smell of sweat and sour ale, the scent of the rancid oil being burned in the lanterns would have turned a normal man's stomach but Grady was accustom to the foul aromas of his surroundings.

Familiar silhouettes were scattered about the pub gathered at low tables as well as peppered about the bar. His favorite stool at the far end of the bar was available. He preferred that seat because he liked having his back against the wall and it was also out of the way. Sitting in the middle of a place like this was just asking for trouble. In the distant corner, he could hide in the back of the crowd.

Chase, the middle-aged barmaid, waddled over to him and told him what was ready in the kitchen. Grady slid her some coppers with an extra for her troubles. The woman smiled at the man remembering him for the adventurer he was in his youth.

When Grady was just starting out he used to frequent this very tavern. Chase thought he was handsome and gallant but a bit brash. He acted like he owned the place but as his fame grew he came in less and less. It wasn't until he became down on his luck that the rugged adventurer returned to her and his old haunt.

As he waited for his meal Grady scanned the crowd, his eyes, now accustomed to the low light, made out all of the familiar faces. Most of those gathered here were worn old warriors like himself. Too long in the tooth for raiding a dragon's horde but too alive to live this boring life he now endured. Youth is wasted on the young, someone once said.

The door flew open with a clatter and framed in the bright daylight was the huge warrior, Thun. At the sight of the menacing, young adventurer, the occupants of the Grimacing Goblin fell silent. Chase swore under her breath as most of the patrons left the bar and headed for the more shadowy tables on the common room's perimeter.

Thun, dressed in gleaming armor, swept boldly into the room, striding regally toward the bar. Two other fellows who were also armed and only slightly less menacing than their leader followed him.

The huge man walked up to a thin, balding man who remained at the bar. The old soul had ignored the commotion and was busy eating his porridge with a wooden spoon. Thun strode right up beside the fellow and soundly smacked the man on the back causing him to spit his mouthful of food onto the counter where he ate.

"If it isn't my ole friend, Nester," the swarthy, young adventurer announced with a sly, self-satisfied smile.

As the old codger recovered from the unexpected blow, Grady dropped his hand to where his sword hilt usually resided. Cursing himself for leaving his weapon in his room, he balled his fist and returned it to the counter.

"You're in my seat," Thun growled at the waif-thin elder.

Nester stammered an apology as he made to slide down a stool. His shaking hands leaving a trail of spilled porridge in its wake.

"That's my seat!" another of the brutes exclaimed after the man had settled in once again.

"Leave him alone!" Grady warned in a low voice while staring intently at the bullies.

Thun's face soured as he looked at the figure cloaked in shadows that had challenged his fun. Filled with angry purpose, the hulking man stormed up to the upstart. Looming over Grady, Thun announced through gritted teeth, "So, you want to be a hero. Who do you think you are, raggedy man?"

Grady remained seated, unflinching under the other's glare. As an adventurer, he had faced much greater foes than this young upstart. After battling horrors in the bowels of tombs, Grady held little fear, especially for a simple human.

"Too scared to speak?" Thun goaded.

"His name is Grady," voice from a nearby table spoke up. "The bard who played here last night sang two ballads about him. You were here, Thun. Don't you remember them?"

The towering warrior looked Grady up and down taking in his bedraggled appearance. "So, you're Grady," he purred while grinning wickedly. "I always wanted to kill a legend."

As Thun drew his blade Grady stood and reflexively reached for his absent sword, but before anything more could happen, the room was filled with the sound of drawn steel. An assortment of swords, daggers, and other weapons suddenly menaced the bully causing him to pause.

The brute held the blade's hilt in a white-knuckled grip as he weighed his options. Reluctantly, Thun decided this fight wasn't worth the trouble and slowly lowered his blade. His grip loosened but his hands still shook with rage as he slid the blade back into its sheath. At once, the occupants of the Grimacing Goblin melted back into the shadows and returned their own weapons to wherever they had been kept.

"You don't look like a legend," Thun queried. "I'll bet you were never half the adventurer I am."

"Sure. Whatever you want to believe," Grady agreed in mock sincerity.

Thun's face turned red at the insult. "Then why don't we have a little contest? I'll bet I can beat you on any dungeon crawl."

A slight twinkle appeared in Grady's eye at the thought of this challenge. "What do you have in mind?"

"Me and the boys have discovered the location of King Agnar's tomb. It's not too far from here but it's well hidden. Why don't just you and I go on this little jaunt and the one who returns with the ole king's crown will be declared the winner?"

The slight twinkle in Grady's eye grew into a spark. This adventure could lead to a more secure future. It may be the push he so desperately needed. "I accept," he growled.

"Good," Thun spat. "I'll meet you outside at noon." And with that, the burly man stormed out of the bar followed by his underlings.

After sitting back down, the old warrior returned to his meal, but before he took the first spoonful he off-handedly remarked, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate you having my back."

A soft chorus of acknowledgment filled the room. No one said anything more, but Grady could sense that they were excited to see if the legendary tomb raider could defeat the young upstart even at his advanced age.

As he finished his meal, Chase approached him carrying a basket covered with a clean, white cloth. "Take this. It isn't much but it'll help you keep up your strength."

Drawing back the covering Grady saw loves of bread, cheese, and dried meat. "You shouldn't have," he stammered in response.

"You can pay me back when you return, alive and in one piece," she countered with a wide smile before she collected his plate and rushed off.

Grady rose, twinges if pain softly reminding of his age. "Even my bones ache," he groaned as he finished straightening out. He took a moment to scan the room. Many of the shadowy forms he knew quite well. The ones he recognized were great adventurers in their own rights, even though they were a bit past their prime. He had journeyed with many of them and had witnessed their daring deeds personally.

It made him feel good to know that, after all of these years, these men, even though they were no longer at their peak, still had his back. His brothers in arms still had the guts to draw steel in defense of one of their own.

With a satisfied smile, Grady left the Grimacing Goblin to get ready for his challenge. Opening the door, he was blinded by the harsh sunlight outside. Squinting against the glare, he strode into the alley. As he started to turn toward the stairs leading to his room, Grady stumbled on the uneven surface of the cobblestones. The loose heal of his boot caused him to reel to one side pitching him to the hard walk.

Cursing his clumsiness, Grady placed his hands on the cobblestones and rose to a seated position. As he did so he felt something odd under his hand. Upon further examination, the retired warrior saw that it was a ring covered with muck. It was wedged between the cobblestones where his hand had rested.

Expecting it to be a junky piece of costume jewelry, he nearly cast it into a nearby rubbish heap. But as an afterthought, Grady dropped the bobble in his pouch, thinking it may well be worth something.

Back in his apartment, the dungeon raider gathered his meager supplies and placed them inside his worn backpack. Even with the food that Chase had provided, the pack seemed nearly empty in comparison to what he used to carry while adventuring. I'm really glad that Thun had said the dungeon was nearby, he thought as he set the backpack aside.

Angry with himself for selling much of his gear, Grady donned his armor and made himself ready for the journey. Most of the straps could only be buckled in the last hole because he had gained a few pounds over his retirement. Even then, his breastplate was somewhat snug around his stomach.

When he was done, Grady examined himself in his mirror. Frowning, he saw the reflection of a haggard old man who seemed to be trying to relive his glory days. He drew his sword trying to look more formidable but it felt heavy in his hand, his atrophied muscles straining with every swing of his old blade.

The heel of his boot bothered him but Grady still had some time so he shouldered his pack and headed off to the cobblers to see what could be done with his worn footwear. The answer wasn't what he had hoped for. The shopkeeper couldn't do much more than add a few tacks and some glue to the wobbly heel and sole and cautioned the adventurer to let the mended area dry before walking too far on it.

While fishing some coins from his pouch, his hand closed over the ring he had found earlier. He poked the dirty item to the side of his hand and sorted out the few coins the cobbler required for his services.

The rest of the money he dropped back into the pouch, but he kept the ring in his hand. As Grady walked toward the Grimacing Goblin, he rubbed the now-dried dirt from the piece of jewelry. He was surprised when he realized that ring was made of real gold. Equally astounding was that it had an actual opal set in its front.

Grady took it as a sign of luck and slid the item over his ring finger. Maybe I can sell it later, he thought as he rounded the corner at the entrance of the alley.

There, milling about outside the pub, a small crowd has gathered. Many of his former allies were present as well as some other people he did not know. And in front of the gathering were Thun and his company.

A lump formed in the aged adventurer's throat as second thoughts crept into his mind. He began thinking that maybe he had made a mistake by accepting this insane challenge. What had he been thinking? Going on a dungeon crawl at his age, was he insane?

"I really didn't think you'd show," Thun crooned.

Steeling himself against his doubts, Grady swallowed the lump and banished his fears. Approaching the mob he casually answered, "I was just running a few errands. I guess I had other things on my mind."

Eyes narrowing, Thun glared at his opponent. "Ok, gramps. Let's get this show on the road."

But before they could leave some of the gathered old-timers stepped forward and offered Grady some of the supplies they had kept for one reason or another. Three torches, two still full glass oil flasks, some rope, and a few other odds and ends were all added to their former comrades pack.

"Ok, are we finally ready?" Thun moaned growing impatient.

"I'm ready," Grady growled touched by the gifts. "Thank you, my friends. I won't let you down."

Thun led the two out of the alley and the city as well. They traveled west through most of the day. Being retired, Grady hadn't walked farther than a few blocks for years. He was thankful for the mild autumn weather, but the fast pace his adversary set tested his mettle. The aged sell-sword kept catching glimpses of the younger man looking over his shoulder and grinning. No doubt, he was happy to see that Grady was already struggling just to keep up.

As they traveled, the two barely spoke; only saying what was necessary, each kept their snide comments to themselves. They stopped for a hurried lunch and later, as darkness neared, to make camp for the night.

Exhausted, Grady shrugged out of his pack and dropped to the ground. He was grateful for Thun's youth and energy as the younger man set to the tasks of setting up camp. He brought in several loads of wood as well as cleared a pit to contain the fire. After he was finished the overly large man sat across from Grady and began building the fire.

"Shouldn't we set a perimeter?" the older one asked.

Without looking up the other asked, "What?"

"You know, a perimeter. Something that will warn us of something sneaking up on our camp."

As the large warrior ignored him, Grady muttered, "Youth," and pulled a large ball of twine from his backpack. On weary legs, he walked out of camp.

Thun could hear some chopping sounds as he built the fire. His curiosity peaking, the youth went in search of the old man. He found Grady squatting beside a tree with his twine trailing into the distance.

"What are you doing," Thun asked somewhat sarcastically.

"Setting a perimeter just like I said," Grady answered. "Let me explain. I split a piece of springy green wood in the middle about a foot and a half deep and secured it horizontally to this tree about knee high. Next, I tied the string onto a tree way over there. I then secure its other end to the center of this other branch, which I cut and insert vertically into the branch I split. The twine needs to be stretched between the somewhat tightly so when something approaches our camp..." Grady reached down and tugged the string. The vertical stick popped out of between the split in the horizontal piece. The two split parts sprung back together with a loud whack that could be heard for quite a distance.

The hulking warrior snorted before responding, "I sleep very lightly so I don't have to rely on little tricks. I just keep my sword loose and in my hand while I rest."

Grady didn't comment back. Instead, he reset the alarm and finished making the perimeter. He returned to the fire as the last of the stars appeared in the night sky. A large, nearly full, moon lit the clearing small clearing they had chosen as their camp.

After the old adventurer had laid out his bedroll he nearly fell onto it. Setting up the warning system had used up the last of the old man's strength but he would sleep better knowing that they had it in place.

His legs and feet aching from the long trek, it took great effort just to eat some rations. The fire was pleasant, crackling cheerily near his feet, but Grady was so exhausted that all he was thinking about was sleep.

"How much further till we get to the tomb?" he asked while trying to sound nonchalant.

"We'll get there by midday tomorrow," Thun answered as he rummaged around in his pack.

Grady grunted in response. "Do you want first watch?"

"I thought your perimeter alarm was going to protect us?" the young warrior goaded. "Sure. I'll take the first turn."

With that business done, Grady curled up in his blankets and fell fast asleep. It seemed like only a few moments had passed when something woke the older man. He couldn't quite place the sound but something had surely roused him from his slumber. Then, as his instincts kicked in, Grady felt the presence of someone creeping toward where he lay.

Ignoring the pain in his joints, Grady rolled to face the intruder while throwing his sword up between the two. The other leaped back a pace in shock.

"Hold," Thun said in an excited whisper. "It's me. That alarm you set went off. I came to warn you."

Seeing that his young competitor was caught off guard by how fast he had reacted, Grady mumbled as he rose, "Even though I set a warning system, I sleep with my steel bared too."

The pair moved silently in the direction the warning came from. Both swords were held in white-knuckle grips as the two readied for battle. Luckily the warriors were walking into the slight breeze, which would mask their scent to the approaching creature. But before they got to the edge of the tree line a shadowy form slowly emerged into the moonlight. The young fawn skittishly walked into view, the animal's brown form was painted gray by the bright moonlight.

"A deer!" Thun cried setting the startled deer into flight. "That alarm sound nearly scared the crap out of me!"

"It did its job!" argued Grady. "It could've easily been a monster."

Ignoring his adversary's argument, Thun and marched back to the camp. "All I can say is that it saved us from being ambushed by cuteness. The night's half over. It's your turn to keep watch."

Grady heaved a heavy sigh before moving deeper into the trees. Following the slack string, he reset the trip line before making his way back to the fire.

Thun was softly snoring as the grizzled veteran stoked the small blaze. As his adrenaline wore off the ache in his joints returned with a vengeance. It seems the romantic notion of going on an adventure once again had left out the part about how an older body felt after sleeping on the cold ground.

Wrapping himself in his tattered blanket he huddled near the fire and tried to stave off falling asleep. Eventually, Grady took to pacing and walking around the fire to keep his mind alert.

As the sun rose, he took some jerky and cheese from his pack to break his fast. His hands full of food, the veteran walked over to the other and kicked his boot-clad foot.

"Good morning, sunshine," he sang to his travel mate.

As the older adventurer ate as he waited for his grumpy counterpart to get ready. Following his past, routine Grady quenched the fire and went out to retrieve his twine. Upon his return, the young man had eaten and was waiting with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

"I'm so glad you retrieved that string," Thun said in a serious tone. "The next time we set up camp a bunny might try to feed on us while we sleep."

"Funny," Grady commented while scooping up his own pack and fitting his shoulders through the harnesses. "Lead on."

The pair walked through the low foothills to the small village of Ham. From previous visits, the veteran adventurer knew that the people who lived here were of a simple sort. The village was actually built in the remains of a larger town that was sacked several centuries ago. Some of the sculptures and fountains still remained but the details that had been carved in the stone had been blurred, worn away over the years. Grady was somewhat confused as to why they were here, but Thun seemed to know exactly where he was going, so Grady simply followed along in his wake.

After crossing through the village the two continued onward, over some low hills dotted with clusters of trees. After about a ten-minute walk, along a neglected paving stone pathway, they stopped directly in front of a spooky looking graveyard. An ancient looking tree grew to one side, its gnarled limbs looming above them like a monster reaching for its next meal. An oddly notched out rock sat at the base of the tree. Possibly it had once held a sign for the graveyard beyond. Here, Thun removed his backpack and pulled a map out. Grady crowded close as they both scanned the unfolded parchment.

The crudely drawn map showed that they were in the right spot but the directions ended there. A few dead trees surrounded the graveyard adding an eerie feel to the old stone tombstones. Mausoleums, of simple construction, were scattered about but they looked time-worn like they were made in a long, lost age when the villager's fortunes were better.

As the two scrutinized the parchment looking for some clue indicating the entrance, Grady heard what sounded like a voice in his head. "Wave your hand over the map," it said.

Reluctantly, the older warrior acted, passing his ring-adorned hand over the map. In the wake of its passing, glowing runes appeared along the bottom of the parchment.

Thun shot a surprised look at Grady. "How'd you do that?"

The wily veteran looked fleetingly at the ring before answering, "Just something you pick up along the way."

The younger man was still skeptical as he studied the shimmering runes. "I wonder what they say?"

Grady leaned near to have a second look as the voice in his mind said, "It reads; find the humble man's grave and return it to its former glory. This will open the way."

The first time Grady heard the voice he was taken aback, but hearing it a second time truly disturbed the veteran warrior. "It reads that we need to find the humble man's grave and return it to its former glory and the way will be opened," Grady informed the younger fellow.

"Then let's see what grave is fitting a humble king," Thun agreed. "Take that half of the cemetery and I'll go over here. My bet is that our humble king would be laid to rest in one of those mausoleums."

"That young fool. A humble man would be buried without much fanfare."

"I must be crazy," Grady mumbled to himself while running his fingers through his shaggy mop.

"You aren't crazy, my friend. I am actually trapped inside the ring you found. My name is Fazil and I am, or was, a wizard."

"I need a drink," the older warrior muttered under his breath.

"You need no such thing. You've wasted enough time on such silliness already. There is still much good you can do in this world."

Grady brought his hand before his face and examined the ring. A sudden movement behind the surface of the opal caught his attention. It looked like the blurred form of a bearded, old man who was wearing a robe. The cloudy gemstone distorted the image making it hard to discern. "Is that you?"

"It is."

The warrior's brow furrowed. "Why haven't you used your magic to escape?"

"Now why haven't I thought of that?" Fazil intoned sarcastically. "Oh, right. I already did. About a century ago."

Grady continued speaking to Fazil as he made his way through the graveyard. The wizard explained all that he knew of King Agnar and his deeds. The king was respected and loved by his people. He was also truly humble but wily. It seems the tomb that his subjects had erected in honor of his death was a decoy. The king was actually interred in this very graveyard. It was a fitting place because it was here that Agnar and his legions had stopped the massive chimera. The fel beast destroyed most of the town before the king's army had arrived. It was the king himself who, with his enchanted sword Frostbite, threw down the horror and struck its three heads from its twisted body. In honor of Agnar's valiant deed, the survivors must have invited their king to be buried here, among their own, in order to honor him and kept his secret. The villagers must have kept the secret this whole time.

As the two mentally conversed, Grady visited each plot and examined the name on every marker. Most of the markers were simple stone slabs with the departed's name on it. They were all age-worn, time and the weather obscuring much of what was carved. His eyesight was not very good to begin with so Grady had to squint to make out most of the text.

He wove down every row starting at the front and gradually making his way to the rear of the graveyard. When he was finished with his half, the seasoned warrior waited for Thun to join him.

"I saw nothing that stood out as a humble man's grave. They all look pretty humble to me," he admitted to Thun as his burly competitor approached.

"Me neither," the younger man agreed.

Pulling out the map, Thun scanned the document for something they might have missed. He even asked Grady to pass his hand over the map again in order to evoke the enchanted runes to reappear. As the aged adventurer complied, the invisible runes began to glow once again.

"Does it say anything that we might have missed?"

"No," Fazil answered.

Grady repeated the wizard's answer and slid down the back of the tombstone facing away from the graveyard. He took in the solitary countryside as he tried to puzzle out what the runes had said. It was a pleasant enough day. White puffy clouds floated slowly across the blue, autumn sky on a gentle breeze. The clouds cast shadows that danced across the rolling green hills interrupted by the occasional tree.

That is when he saw it; a small wooden marker that lay propped against a very old tree. "A humble man's grave," he spoke softly, remembering the magical clue.

Thun watched as his counterpart rose and began walking away. Intrigued, he followed in Grady's wake. At the base of the tree, the veteran crouched and ran a hand over the smooth, unadorned surface of the wooden marker.

"It's made of ironwood and there's no name on it," he reported. "A humble man's grave. Now, all we need to do is figure out how to return it to its former glory."

Thun, being the stronger of the two, picked up the heavy, ironwood marker and they went back into the graveyard. They looked everywhere for a place to put it where it would be prestigious, but in the end, found no such place. Dropping his heavy burden unceremoniously onto the ground, Thun complained, "Why did they use ironwood. That stuff is so heavy."

"Because it wear's like iron?" Grady sarcastically explained. "That's probably why they used it. That way his marker wouldn't rot into the soil over time."

"But where would his former glory be located?" the younger man wondered aloud.

"Let's see," Grady muttered. "Let's think of what the king did here."

Thun pushed the older adventurer playfully. "Do you know that you mumble to yourself all the time?"

"No, I don't!"

"I'll point it out the next time," replied a smiling Thun.

Absently combing his fingers through his hair, Grady continued his thought. "Agnar slew a chimera and saved many in the town."

"How do you know that?" the other asked with a frown.

Grady tapped the side of his head with a finger. "With old age comes wisdom."

Thun said something about making things up, but the veteran dungeon crasher wasn't listening. "Grab the stone. I have an idea."

The hulking, young man hefted the stone onto one shoulder and followed the other toward the entrance of the graveyard. As they walked Grady explained his theory. "King Agnar and his men defended the town from the monster. So, the front is where he would make his stand. The front, or, the entrance."

Once there, he had Thun fit the marker into the oddly notched out rock beside the stone pathway. As the heavy piece of ironwood slid into place the ground began to shake. The two adventurers both crouched, their bent knees absorbing the tremors as they struggled to keep a semblance of balance.

A doorway opening at the base of the tree caused the tremor, as the ground fell away revealing a narrow set of stairs leading under the trunk of the large plant. As the shaking subsided, the ancient tree became animated; the branches about the pair swung down and bashed the humans aside.

Thun, able to dive, rolled with the blow quickly sprung to his feet clutching his naked sword in his hand. Grady was not so agile. Hitting the ground flat on his back the aged adventurer lay gasping, the air knocked out of his lungs.

Stunned and unable to regain his breath the warrior was sprawled helplessly on the grass directly below a descending branch. Loose twigs and leaves rained down on Grady as he struggled to dodge the blow. A sword flashed in the sunlight before it chopped against the descending branch biting deeply into the wood, but the growth continued downward and smashed onto its helpless target. Twigs and branches wrapped around the struggling older man gripping him about the waist. As the tree lifted Grady, Thun's sword struck again cutting through the already wounded wood and dropping his comrade back to earth.

While Thun recovered from his swing, he was blindsided by another branch, which hit him from behind before wrapping itself around his leg. The tree lifted him by that one leg, dangling him upside down but to the warrior's credit, he held onto his sword and continued his attack. His blade hacking at the limb directly above his ensnared ankle, but his blows lacked the power and accuracy he would have had while on the ground, but dangling as he was, he did his best to cut himself free.

Grady tried to help the other but another branch came his way and he had his hands full with trying to keep the animated limb at bay. The branch was one of the higher ones, and being so was thinner but it still threatened to ensnare the dazed fighter. As he sliced through the thinner growth, he heard a thud behind him as Thun, having succeeded in chopping himself free, struck the ground.

"Get clear of that thing!" the younger man warned.

But Grady was well ahead of his counterpart, backing swiftly away as he parried the grasping twigs.

The two stood gasping as they watched the animated tree swinging wildly in frustration directly above the yawning doorway. Keeping at a safe distance they contemplated their next move.

"It would take a week to chop that blasted tree down," Thun grumbled showing little sign of being winded from the battle.

Grady, still breathing heavily, nodded his agreement. In a moment of clarity, he unslung his pack and removed one of his flasks of oil. "Then let's burn it down."

As Thun acknowledged the idea with an evil grin, a voice sounded in the older man's head. "The tree is a thing of nature. It's a magical spell that is causing the problem. I can get you safely past the poor creature without harming it."

"What do you have in mind?" Grady grumbled.

"You did it again," Thun remarked.

"What?"

"Mumbled. What did you say?" the younger of the two asked.

Fazil waited for the exchange to conclude before continuing. "Just make yourself ready to move hastily to the stairs. The tree will not attempt to harm you."

"I have a better idea," Grady stated while replacing the flask of oil into his pack. "Just be prepared to hurry down the stairs."

Thun eyed the other skeptically but readied his sword as Grady slipped his arms through the backpack's loops. "Ready when you are," he whispered.

All at once, the pair was bathed in magical fire. Both reacted instantly, patting the enchanted flames until they noticed that the fire was merely an illusion.

"Go!" Fazil urged the ring's bearer who shouted the same to his companion.

As they closed on the tree's position, the animated foe drew back clearing the way to the opening at its roots. Holding their swords defensively, they passed under the upraised branches. The tree's trunk actually leaned away from the mystically burning fighters as they gained the top of the stairs. Throwing caution to the wind, the two hurried down into the opening and out of reach of the now thrashing plant.

The illusionary flames lit the way while fending off the twig hands that trailed behind them. When they reached a safe distance, the two stopped halfway down the stairs. Pulling a torch from his pack, Grady tried to light it with the magical fire on his hand, but the illusion failed to ignite it. Cursing, he fished his free hand into a pouch at his side, extracting some flint.

He handed the torch to Thun and striking the flint against his sword; he was able to set it afire. As the flames took hold the enchantment on the pair vanished. The less experienced man raised the torch high and examined the way before them. Seeing no further threat, he took a step down.

"Stop!" Grady warned placing a restraining hand on the exuberant youth.

Thun froze, his eyes straining beyond the torchlight to seek out what was wrong.

"Not out there," the veteran explained pointing down. "The stairs. We need to check them for traps."

Clearly frustrated, Thun pushed the torch into the others hand and grumbled, "Sure. You go ahead and check them."

Examining the flight from above was quite difficult. It required Grady to kneel and peer into every crack and hole while testing each tread for some sort of pressure plate. The descent was slow but it eased the wily man's mind to see that the way was safe.

On the last step before the landing he found no trip wires but as he pressed gently on the tread it made a clicking sound and sank. The floor directly in front to the stairs dropped on hinges exposing a dark hole. Lowering the torch into the opening the two saw wicked looking stakes rising upward from the floor of the pit.

"That wouldn't have been good," Grady remarked.

"I could've stopped in time," Thun remarked angrily.

The veteran dungeon raider offhandedly commented, "Maybe, but nearly anyone else would've had too much momentum and fallen onto the spikes."

Thun growled at his companion but held his tongue.

Reaching into the pit, Grady pulled a lever, which snapped the floor back up and into place. After testing the pitfall thoroughly, he gingerly stepped over the bottom stair and onto the replaced floor. Satisfied, he motioned his friend to follow and moved slowly forward.

The two stopped just inside of where the passage opened into a large chamber. The flickering torchlight was able to reach even the furthest walls, but just barely. On either side of the adventurers, against the walls, stood six skeletons with weapons in hand.

"I don't like the looks of this," Grady stammered as his counterpart crept cautiously toward the nearest one.

Sword in hand the grizzled veteran watched as the other continued forward. Only the crackling of the burning torch broke the silence in the room as Thun closed the distance between him and the ax-wielding skeleton. Tense seconds passed slowly by as Thun reached out to the unmoving skeleton, and then suddenly, he flicked it with his finger.

"I think it's silver," he declared. "It must weigh three hundred pounds. I'm taking it."

"I still don't like it."

Thun shook his head in disbelief. "If you don't want yours," he said while casually draping an arm over the sculpture. "I'll take them all."

"I'm telling you," Grady warned, "There's something wrong with those things."

Thun removed his arm from the decoration and strode out toward the middle of the room. "It's settled. I'll take them all. I can see how old age has taken its toll on you. You mumble to yourself. You're suspicious of everything. You just need to trust in your natural instincts and believe in yourself. Nothing can sneak up on..."

"Skulker!" Grady cried as a dark form dropped from the ceiling directly onto the brash warrior. The creature's cloak-like form enveloping Thun completely, his struggling form and cries for aid were muffled by the dark monster's thick skin.

Grady hacked at the skulker's thick outer hide but with every strike, he heard his friend bellow in pain. The veteran longed for his old sword. The one he had taken from the vampire's treasure room. But that sword had been replaced with this, cheaper one. It had become a victim of his dwindling savings.

Attacking the skulker with his sword wasn't going to work. Even if he killed the monster he would possible also kill his companion. Upon seeing the creature's blinking black eyes, he shoved the burning torch directly into one. A horrible sound erupted from the skulker. It was a high-pitched keening that Grady took as a scream of pain. The good thing was that it did nothing to hurt Thun. He still struggled inside the monster's embrace but that was probably due to the fact that he could not breathe in there.

The creature was probably starting to digest the hulking warrior even as it suffocated him. Time was not on their side as the voice in his head urged Grady to point the ring at the creature. Pure white bolts of power shot forth striking the hideous monster before crackling all over its body. Again and again, the magical missiles hammered the skulker until it was dead. As it died it slipped off of its victim and onto the damp stone floor.

Thun fell beside it, his breath coming in gasps. After a few moments, he said, "Thank you. You saved my life."

"I saved your life again," Grady corrected. "Don't think anything more of it. I'm sure that you and your crew do the same all the time."

"Well," Thun admitted, his head hanging low. "Not all the time. In fact, most of our stories are just that. Stories."

"But you did kill the giant and steal his treasure horde."

Still looking at the floor, "We intended to but the giant was gone and we just helped ourselves to his treasure."

"I see," Grady said offering his hand. As he helped the big man up he added. "Well, you're on a real dungeon crawl now. And you did save me from that tree."

"I did," Thun said realizing his good deed for the first time. His eyes grew brighter and his smile widened.

"So, let's continue onward and find Agnar."

Thun, now mostly recovered, led the way. They scanned the ceiling for any more skulkers but finding none they proceeded to the opening opposite the one they had come through. As the torch illuminated the new room they were confronted by the old king's coffin. The chamber was small and the sarcophagus nearly took up the whole space.

"That was fast," Thun muttered.

"Was that a mumble?" Grady asked with a smile.

The hulking warrior turned to the other, "I was just thinking out loud."

"Oh, that's what that was," he said in mock understanding. "I do that a lot, myself."

"Let's just open it up and see what we have inside," Thun groaned, changing the subject.

The intrepid explorers inched forward, both searching for any possible traps. But the way was safe and they made it unhindered to one side of the stone coffin.

The sarcophagus, like the king it was made for, was mostly unadorned. Its polished surface had a few raised lines around the edges and the royal seal was engraved in its center. The coffin was elegant in its simplicity, not gaudy like most rulers would have preferred.

Thun placed his fingers just under the lip and made ready to heave the top off, but Grady placed a restraining hand over his friend's, stopping the young man.

"This coffin has been sealed for who knows how long," the veteran warned. "I've witnessed many dungeon raiders who became overcome by invisible gasses after breaking the seal on things like this.

"Then how are we supposed to open it?"

"Slowly," the wily, experienced one stated while drawing his sword. "Hold your breath and just lift it a tiny fraction while I slide my sword underneath. Then we leave the room and let the poisonous gas seep out slowly so it doesn't hit you in the face all at once."

As Thun lifted the heavy, stone lid there was a distinct popping sound. Grady slipped the blade of his sword in propping the slab open before the two retreated into the antechamber.

"How long are we supposed to wait out here," the young man said, eager to see what treasure could be found inside the sarcophagus.

"I don't know?" the experienced veteran replied. "I think we should wait a while at least."

They both sat for a short time. Thun, anxious to see what fortune awaited them took to pacing about and examining the silver skeletons along the room.

Agnar just had to be buried with a vast amount of wealth, the huge man thought. If he decorated his antechamber with these macabre, silver sculptures there must be coins and gems aplenty inside his coffin with him.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Thun boldly stated, "It's been long enough. I'm going in."

Huffing in exasperation, Grady followed the impatient youth back into the burial chamber to the side of the sarcophagus. Thun wasted no time. He grabbed the lip of the cover-stone and heaved it over. The heavy slab slid off the other side and slammed the floor splitting in two from the impact. It was truly a stunning feat of strength, but it left Grady feeling somewhat saddened. Damaging the stone in his haste to recover the treasure added to the disrespect they were already causing by plundering Agnar's final place of rest.

"What the..." gasped Thun. "Where's the treasure?"

Still feeling remorse over disturbing the dead king, Grady picked up his sword from the side of the sarcophagus. The cheap metal blade was bent from the weight of the slab. He tossed it aside before peered into the stone coffin. What he saw there was truly unremarkable. The skeleton of Agnar was brown with age. It lay in repose with his crown still on his head and clutching an old dusty sword still in its sheath. At some point, moisture had leaked inside the stone coffin leaving mineral deposits on any metal inside. The crown, as well as the sheath, looked like so much junk.

Thun raged in his disappointment. "There must be a secret door in here, somewhere," he cried. Racing to the walls he ran his hands all over them in search of some hidden mechanism.

While his friend continued his search, Grady remained at the side of the dead king looking upon his skeleton in remorse. "A humble king would not want to be buried with treasure that could be better used by the living," he muttered.

"Indeed," Fazil said in the adventurer's mind. "But being their defender, he would need his sword. Take the weapon, Grady."

"Your sword is kind of bent," Thun said handing the ruined weapon back to his friend.

"Can I have the king's old sword?" the older man asked.

Thun smiled. He knew he had the Grady in a weak position. A warrior who still had to travel and didn't have a sword was more or less defenseless. Even a dull, crusty blade, like the one Agnar gripped, could mean the difference between life and death while on a wilderness journey.

"Only if I can have the crown," he offered to his weaponless partner.

"You drive a hard bargain, Thun," Grady admitted, "but I accept."

The younger of the two hurriedly reached in and unceremoniously ripped the crown off of the king's head. Grady braced himself for something to happen but the room was still. There was no reaction to the removal of the crown.

With great reverence, the older man reached in and gently pried the sheathed weapon from Agnar's skeletal fingers. As he did so he softly murmured his apologies and explained that he was in great need of the weapon. Once again, there was no consequence for the action.

As he exhaled his relief his companion dropped to his hands and knees and began probing the base of the sarcophagus. "There has to be more treasure in here!"

"I'm leaving," Grady informed him. "We've disturbed the king's rest long enough."

"I'll be out in a minute," Thun responded as he worked his way around the stone coffin's base.

It was odd. In all of his adventurers, Grady had never felt sad about pillaging a grave. He had done this several times, but there was something different here. The timeworn warrior swore that he actually felt a bond with Agnar. His head hanging low, Grady left the room and went into the antechamber.

Once outside the light cast from the torch that Thun held only went so far, so Grady pulled another torch and lit it with his flint. As his light flickered to life the skeletons along the walls caught his eye.

"Silver?" Grady muttered to himself as he walked over to the nearest one for a closer look. Holding the torch close to the skull and squinting, the veteran dungeon crawler saw very thin, spidery glyphs. As he examined more of the skeleton's parts he realized that the thing was completely covered with these odd symbols.

"This can't be good," he grumbled as a noise from the doorway drew his attention.

The sound he heard was Thun walking out of the burial chamber with the crown in hand and a disgusted look on his face. "Not even a copper piece. Agnar was a cheap... Hey, why is this thing glowing all of the sudden?"

Grady's mouth suddenly went dry as he watched the crown take on a reddish glimmer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the same hue radiating from behind him. Turning, he realized that it was coming from the odd glyphs covering the skeleton.

Agnar's sword still in his hand, the older man dropped the torch and pulled the sheath off of the blade just as the skeleton swung its mace at his head. As Grady's blade was exposed it radiated a cold, blue magic of its own.

Luckily, the silver boned foes moved very slowly. The precious metal weighed them down hindering their movements. When Grady parried the mace, the vintage fighter saw frost appear on the other's weapon.

"Indeed, this is the enchanted weapon king Agnar used in defense of the town's folk," Fazil informed the grizzled warrior in his thoughts. "If you think of the word freeze before striking the next time one of its powers will activate."

Ducking under a clumsy swing Grady swept his sword at the skeleton's shin. Freeze, he thought and there was a blast of frigid air. Although his weapon had done little damage to the silver-clad bone, the skeleton became covered in a coating of ice and was frozen in place.

Grady gasped at what had just happened. He had in his hands a legendary weapon of power. Only in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get one of these.

The sound of Thun's sword clanging off of a metal-clad foe brought Grady back to reality. Another of the skeleton's sword nearly took his head off but Grady deflected the blades aim high and counter-striking in the same stroke, he caught the silver creature on its shoulder. "Freeze", he thought again and another of their enemies stood frozen in place.

The third from his side of the room made ready to swing its ax as Fazil mentally cautioned, "You can only use that power three times every week. Its power to freeze is a powerful attack and depletes the weapon of its other powers when used that many times."

"Great," the experienced explorer growled. "There are four more of them. Now, what do we do?"

"What do you normally do when faced with a foe that you cannot defeat?" the trapped wizard prompted.

"Run away!" the battle-hardened man answered.

After taking a last swipe at his remaining enemy, Grady swatted his opponent's ax to the side and hastened to his friend's aid. Thun was attempting to fend off three of these juggernauts but all he was actually accomplishing was staying alive. Grady slammed himself into one of the skeletons that his friend was battling, knocking the silver creature to the ground and in the process severely bruising his left shoulder.

Grady slashed at another of his companion's attackers; his blade bit through the enchanted silver they were made of, severing the limb at its elbow. As the arm and the weapon it was holding, dropped to the ground, the seasoned adventurer took in their situation. He didn't know how long the two who were frozen would remain that way and the one he had left was nearly upon them. It would soon be four to two and these skeletons were nearly unstoppable.

Thun had redoubled his efforts as he now was only faced with one attacker, but the hulking man was tiring. Following his earlier thought, Grady grabbed the other and pulled him toward the tomb's exit.

"Jump past the first step," the aged veteran cried as they raced for the stairs with four skeletons trailing in their wake.

Both men leapt as they gained the landing, their feet flying over the first stair and onto the second. It was there that Grady stopped and watched the pursuing creatures that were not very far behind. As the first skeleton put its weight on the landing, it raised its hammer ready to swing. The wily veteran casually stepped down on the first step, engaging the pressure plate that released the trap. The floor dropped to one side causing the helpless creature to fall to the spikes below. Being a skeleton, the spiked didn't penetrate anything but the thing's bones became tangled amidst the long pointed projectiles trapping the magically animated creature on the floor.

The momentum of the remaining three pushed a second skeleton into the pit who became like-wise trapped on the floor. The remaining two stood at the edge of the opening looking at the adventurers.

"All that silver," Thun said sadly.

"I could always reset the floor if you still want some?" the other proposed.

The huge fighter smiled, shaking his head.

Fazil? Can you get us past the tree again? Grady thought.

"Yes," the trapped wizard answered. "Prepare yourselves and make ready to escape."

"We'll get past the tree as we did before, Thun. So don't be shocked when you see flames covering your body. Remember, it's only an illusion," he warned.

As the illusion wreathed the pair it spurred them into motion. They sprinted up the stairs and past the tree even before it had time to react to the flaming humans. As the pair stopped a safe distance from the now writhing plant, they took a moment to look back.

"You're a good companion on a dungeon raid," Grady complimented.

"Thanks," Thun said. "And you're still really good at adventuring. I learned a lot."

The two former competitors now had a bond. They were brothers in arms and no stronger tie could be found in the world. What had started out as a challenge had morphed into something far grander.

*****

"We're back!" Thun announced as they came through the door and into the Grimacing Goblin Inn. The hulking warrior sauntered up to the bar and dropped Agnar's crown on the counter in front of himself.

The action was met by a collective groan as the tavern's occupants gathered close to examine the trophy. Grady, who followed his companion inside, went to his usual seat in the dark end of the bar.

Thun dropped a single gold coin beside the crown. "Drinks are on me," he said before turning to leave.

"You aren't going to stay and celebrate?" Nester asked watching the big man walking away.

"No," he answered softly. Before Thun left he looked at Grady. An understanding passed between the two for that brief second; then he was gone.

"Aw, Grady," one of the patrons soothed. "I'll bet ya really showed that young pup."

"Yeah, Grady. We're proud of you anyway," another assured him.

Standing abruptly, the adventurer strode grimly to the center of the bar. The customers, as well as Chase, were all gathered about, concern showing on their collective faces. All at once he drew Agnar's sword and slammed it down on the bar, the blade radiating a soft blue glow.

"This is what I found in that tomb. Frostbite, the legendary sword that king Agnar had personally wielded. Anyone else tired of retirement and want to go back in business?"

The crowd roared in excitement. Thun may have found the crown and won the challenge but it was Grady who had outsmarted the inexperienced whelp. He had found the true treasure and it was called Frostbite.

*****

Later that night, as the customers dwindled away, Grady felt the call of nature and went to the privy. After he was done he moved to a basin and poured into it some water from a nearby pitcher. He slipped off the enchanted ring and set it on the sill to his side. A cool breeze blew inside as he scooped handfuls of water over his face and hair. Looking skeptically at the towel, which hung on a nearby nail, Grady wiped his face dry on his sleeve.

A moment later, someone in the tavern urgently called Grady's name. The adventurer hastily raked his fingers through his unruly mop and raced into the bar.

"There you are," Chase said in a rush. "The Goblin King had his green-skinned kin kidnap the princess. He's offering a reward, that is, if you're really coming out of retirement."

Grady's grim smile answered her question as he scanned the room. Some of these people were great heroes in their time, he thought. I'll bet they'd make an interesting company to help me get the kidnapped princess back.

The Last Hope

By Jon Flushing

The Grimacing Goblin Inn was a rundown wooden tavern where the dregs of society came to drown the sorrows of their sad pathetic lives. The establishment's owner turned a blind eye to most illegal activities, the exception being cursing, as-long-as he got a cut of whatever the action was. Gambling, prostitution, pick-pocketing, outright robbery, and murder were accepted activities at The Grimacing Goblin. There was no discrimination there either. Men, woman, rich, poor, Orc, Elf, and Dwarf...it didn't matter, as long as you could pay in gold or silver you were welcome.

Jasper had been having a particularly good night playing cards. He had bought several rounds for his fellow patrons, which attracted their attention. Some found it odd that old Jasper seemed to be talking to a ring on his finger as he played. Still, others were more interested in the ring than the card playing of the old man. The ring was like no other. The shine of its gold was unparalleled. It seemed to be etched with some sort of ancient runes. Whispers that the ring might contain magic circulated through the tavern like the smoke of cheap pipe tobacco that was already in it.

At a table near the door sat Viktor and Oswald. Viktor was a Half-Orc who was a blacksmith in a nearby village. Oswald was a Dwarf that worked for him. Oswald had fallen through some flooring in a mine when he was younger, shattering his leg. He walked with a severe limp. The pair slowly sipped ale from their tankards as they watched the card game.

"No one is that lucky, Viktor. The old man wins every hand. Something is not right. Somehow, he is cheating. I think it has to do with that damn ring on his finger."

"Did you figure that out all by yourself, Ozzie? Because the rest of us were on to it a fair bit ago. The old fool thinks that by buying us drinks that we'll be all nice and friendly with him. He'll never make it out of here alive tonight."

Oswald stared up at the Half-Orc. By the look on his face, he could tell that he was deep in thought. "You got a plan, Viktor?"

"Yeah, I got a plan."

So, what is it?" asked the Dwarf.

"In a little while, I'm going to go over and ask to join the game. You wait a bit and then limp overall good and drunk-like and fall down under the table like you passed out. Wait 'til I kick ya and then jump up under the table knocking the bugger over. The money will go flying. Make sure that you grab as much as you can. While everyone is scrambling for the money, I'm going to punch old Jasper square in the face. While he's out of his senses, I'll grab the ring from his finger. Then we get out of here as fast as we can. I'll meet you in the alley 'round back."

"That's a good plan, Viktor," said the Dwarf.

"Damn right," Viktor said never taking his eyes off the card game. "That's because I'm the smart one."

"Right," said Oswald, an evil grin spreading across his face.

A few hands later, Viktor stood up and nodded to the Dwarf. "Here we go, Ozzie," he said and headed toward the card game. As he approached the table, Jasper stood up.

"I need to use the pysse pot," Jasper said. "I'll be back in a wee bit, mates. Bartender, can I get another round here?"

The bartender nodded.

Quickly Viktor made his way back to the table where Ozzie still sat.

"New plan. I'm going back over to the table and start a fight. I'll knock over the table and start grabbing the money. Jasper is heading to the back room to relieve himself. Follow him in there and get the ring. He's good 'n' drunk so it shouldn't be too big of a problem. There's a window in the room. Climb up to it and I'll get you down from it in the alley out back. Go now!"

Jasper steadied himself. As he looked down he saw two pots in front of him.

"Well, I should be able to hit one of you," he said with a snicker as he pulled down his breeches. Noticing the ring, Jasper said, "I better take you off. I don't want to go all over you. Fazil might get a bit pissed off if I do."

Jasper laughed as he swayed back and forth trying to pull the ring from his finger. He slid it off and looked around the room.

"Now where shall I set ye?" he said to himself. "I know, I'll set you right up here where I found you yesterday." He reached up and placed the ring on the window seal.

"That's just perfect," came a voice from behind him.

Jasper turned to see who it was. Just as he did, Oswald punched him square in his family jewels. Jasper fell backward cracking the back of his head off the filthy floor and lie there unconscious.

Quickly Oswald pushed some crates below the window and stacked them. When he reached the window, he could see the ring resting there.

"Come to me, baby," he said as he slipped the ring into his pocket. He could hear the sound of a brawl coming from beyond the door. He knew that Viktor would soon be there to help him down. He glanced down the alley just in time to see the Half-Orc round the corner.

"Soon, Viktor, you will realize that you are not the smart one," Oswald said to himself with a chuckle.

When Viktor was directly below the window, Oswald jumped to him.

"Did you get the ring, Ozzie?" Viktor said holding the dwarf up to his face.

"I sure did. You wanna see it?"

"Sure," Viktor said.

"Too bad!" Ozzie yelled and then poked the Half-Orc in his eyes with all his might.

Viktor cried out in pain but did not release the Dwarf from his grasp. Oswald bit into the thumb of Victor's right hand causing him to scream again. He dropped the Dwarf to the ground. Oswald kicked him in the shins. He checked to see that he still had the ring and headed off down the alley as quickly as he could.

As he turned the corner, Oswald stopped and looked back down the alley. Viktor was stumbling around and still yelling. Oswald laughed at the silhouette flailing about in the moonlight. Turning to resume his flight, Oswald became aware of someone ahead of him in the alley.

"What's so funny, Ozzie? You know that I love a good joke," came a voice from the shadows.

Ozzie knew the voice and knew that he was in deep trouble. He felt as if he could vomit.

"Eugenia, what are you doing here?"

The woman stepped out from the shadows and into the moonlight. Ozzie stared at her. She was breathtaking. As beautiful as she was, the Dwarf knew that she was just as deadly.

"It is Queen Eugenia, now. Give me the ring Ozzie and I will spare you your miserable life. If you fail to do so and I let Viktor know that I have you. I'm sure he would enjoy resuming your friendship."

"Please, Eugenia, show some mercy here...at least for old times' sake."

It's Queen Eugenia and hand over the ring. I won't tell you again."

Just then, Viktor rounded the corner. Spotting the Dwarf, he let out a thunderous roar and raced toward him.

"Eugenia, save me please!" yelled Oswald as he moved behind her.

"The ring now!" demanded the queen.

"Damn!" barked Oswald as he fished it out of his pocket and handed it to Eugenia.

"Thank you, Ozzie. See that wasn't too difficult, now was it?"

Oswald crossed his short muscular arms and began to mutter to himself.

"Hello Viktor, what's the hurry?" Eugenia said to the Half-Orc as he approached them.

"Eugenia, what are you doing here?" asked Viktor.

Eugenia laughed.

"Well now, that seems to be the question."

"I have no quarrel with you, Eugenia. Stand aside. My issue is with Ozzie."

"Yes, I am aware. Just so you know, it's Queen Eugenia now."

"Thinking rather highly of yourself these days, aren't you?" Viktor said with a chuckle.

"I believe you want this back from dear sweet Oswald," Eugenia said holding up the ring. "The problem is, Viktor, that our Dwarf friend here has given it to me and I have no plans of giving it up. In fact, I rather like it."

"Give it to me. I don't want to have to hurt you."

Eugenia threw back her head and laughed.

"Don't be a fool, Viktor. It is you that is most likely to get hurt."

With those words, twelve armed guards moved out from the shadows from behind her.

"I told you that I was a queen. I strongly suggest that you forget about the ring, Viktor. Turn around and walk away or I'll have my men take you back into The Grimacing Goblin Inn. I'm sure that some of the patrons would be happy to see you, knowing that you stole their money."

Viktor stood glaring at Eugenia. He knew that he would not win against twelve men. He also knew that the woman standing before him was equally his match. With only a dagger on him, Viktor understood that he would have little chance of besting her.

"You win, Eugenia...this time," Viktor said and started to turn.

"Not so fast," yelled Eugenia. "I told you that I am Queen Eugenia. You will kneel before me and show me the respect that I deserve. Get over there Oswald and kneel with him."

She shoved Oswald toward the Half-Orc.

"Kneel! Now!" Eugenia yelled, her voice filled with rage.

Slowly the Dwarf and the Half-Orc knelt.

"I wish to thank both of you for retrieving the ring for me. I have been looking for it for some time. Unlike that fool, Jasper, and the two of you, I plan on using the ring and its magic to do good. I want to create a better world for all beings. I want a world filled with peace and prosperity. That is why I need this ring."

"And what if some of us don't want to live in your world, Your Majesty?" Viktor said sarcastically.

"Then I can assure you, Viktor, that you won't live in it," Eugenia said with a smile. "Rise. Go now. Let the world know of my plans. Let them know of the kindness that I showed you. A better tomorrow awaits. Choose to be a part of it...you will not like the alternative."

Viktor and Oswald stood. They watched as the queen and her guard turned and slipped back into the shadows.

"I think she means it, Viktor."

"Well, maybe you are the smart one after all." the Half-Orc said as he looked down at the Dwarf.

"Sorry, Vik," Oswald said holding out his hand. "No hard feelings, mate?"

Viktor smiled and took his old friend's hand and shook it. "No hard feelings. We better get out of here, Ozzie, before they come looking for us."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ozzie said.

"Does it involve consuming a lot of ale?" Viktor asked.

"It does and you're buying," Oswald said with a grin.

"Well, we can't go back to The Grimacing Goblin," offered Viktor.

"I know a place up the road a bit, Vik. It's called The Red Herring."

"I know the place. There's a cute little waitress with an eye-patch that works there. Let's be off, Ozzie, a night of drinking awaits!"

"After a few, maybe we can discuss Eugenia's better world?"

"You mean Queen Eugenia, Oswald."

"That I do, Viktor, that I do."

Ten years later...

He watched them come down the trail from the mountain. The beat of their drums announced their advancement. Their numbers were endless. Most traveled on foot. Some straddled the necks of great woolly mammoths whose backs bore gondolas filled with archers. Still, others were mounted on white warhorses. At the head of this great procession, was their queen riding a massive snow tiger.

Fear had left him long ago. It had trickled down his legs as he stood in the middle of the village waiting for them. His knees felt weak and his body shook. He had not fled like the others. He knew that he was the last hope.

At first glimpse, he ran about the village gathering what abandoned armor and weapons that he could. He put on the mishmash and waited, a spear in one hand and a short sword in the other. He knew that what he was doing was pointless and foolish, but he was all that stood between them and the army.

Queen Eugenia of the Northern Mountains could barely believe her eyes as she entered the village. A boy, a single boy, stood in the dirt road dressed in a pathetic suit of cobbled together armor. He held a spear and a sword. She could see that he was shaking.

She halted her snow tiger a short distance from the child. She raised her right arm and the drums ceased. Eugenia dismounted and stood beside the tiger scratching the neck of the great beast. The animal purred loudly at her touch.

"Tell me your name mighty warrior," said the queen.

From behind her, the soldiers began to laugh. With a wave of her hand, the laughing stopped.

The queen pushed back the fur hood from her head revealing a mane of midnight black hair. She was the most beautiful and exotic thing that the boy had ever seen. Her large brown eyes were hypnotic. Her features were perfect. Her light brown skin was flawless where it showed between furs and armor. He could not take his eyes from her. Mesmerized by her beauty, he had failed to hear her question.

"Perhaps the boy is deaf and dumb," offered her second in command.

"Boy, do you have a name?"

He realized that she was speaking.

"I am called Michael," blurted the boy.

"Michael," the queen said with a nod. "Michael, do you know who I am?"

"You are the Queen of the Mountains. You are Eugenia, the Bringer of Death."

Eugenia winced at the boy's words. This was not who she was, but it seemed more and more, it was who she was becoming.

"Where are the others, Michael? Where is the rest of the people of your village?"

"Gone. They fled as soon as they knew that you were coming," said the boy.

"Why did you not go with them?" asked the queen.

"Because someone needed to stay and protect them," responded the child.

"Who is it, Michael, that you feel the need to protect?"

"The old ones, the ones who cannot walk, the orphans. They have no one."

The boy's words touched the heart of the great queen. Tears began to fill her eyes.

"So, you stand here before me then to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Are you not afraid?"

"I am. But I will do all that I can to stop you from harming them. If I die, I will know that I died doing what is right. Leave my village Queen Eugenia and leave these people be."

With that, he raised the spear like a javelin ready to be launched.

The archers snapped arrows in their bows and drew beads on the boy.

"Take no action," yelled the queen.

"Stand down, Michael. I swear to you that I will not harm you or any in this village. You have my word as Queen of the Northern Mountains."

Michael lowered the spear.

"You are brave and kind young one. I have need of others like you. If I may, let me honor you for your bravery with this gift."

The queen reached up and pulled a leather cord from her neck. A ring hung from it.

"Take this. Remove the ring and place it on your finger." said the queen as she held out her hand with the ring in it.

Michael moved forward, his armor clanking loudly as he did. He reached up and took the ring from her hand. He removed the leather band from the ring and placed it on his right forefinger. Intense pain shot through his entire body. He screamed. The witch had tricked him. As suddenly as the pain began it ceased. Michael dropped to his knees.

"Stand, Michael. You need bow to no one. Captain of the Guard, bring me your shield!"

The Captain ran to the Queen.

"Go in front of him and hold up your shield," ordered the queen. "Rise, Michael. Look into the shield and tell me what you see."

Michael struggled to his feet. He looked into the reflective metal of the shield and could not believe his eyes. A man in silver armor stood there. The man wore a ring identical to the one that the queen had given him.

"Tell me what you see, Michael," demanded the queen.

"I see a warrior in silver...."

Michael saw the mouth of the warrior moving in the reflection. The deep voice that was answering the queen was coming from it. The voice belonged to him. He looked at the queen in disbelief.

"The ring has transformed you. The outer you anyways. Deep inside you are that mighty warrior that you see in the shield. That reflection is that of the real you."

Michael looked down at himself. He had muscular arms and legs. He reached up and touched his face. He could feel hair upon it.

"I am grown. How can this be?" he asked the queen.

"It is the magic of the ring, Michael," she answered. "Go now and bring your people to me. I have need of them."

"Yes, my Queen," Michael responded.

"Captain of the Guard, take some of your men and help him," ordered the queen.

In a matter of moments, the inhabitants of the village were assembled in front of her.

"Michael, go to each of them and have them touch the ring. They will be transformed as you have been and they will understand."

One by one, the villagers touched the ring and changed. The lame became mighty and strong, the old became young, the orphaned became adults capable of taking care of themselves.

Eugenia mounted her snow tiger. Looking at the altered villagers standing in front of her and smiled.

"This is what belief can do for you. Knowing that you can is what makes the difference. That is what I am attempting to do. I am trying to make a difference. I am trying to bring hope to the hopeless. I am trying to make the weak feel strong. I am trying to make the lives of each person better and safer. Some try to stop me. It is they who fear this better world of tomorrow because of their own hate or greed. I will not be stopped. So, to them, I am a murderess, a heartless butcher, or even a cold-blooded witch. The ring has allowed you to see the real me and... What can be the real you. I ask each of you today to come join me."

Michael stepped forward from the crowd. He walked to the queen and held up the ring to her.

"We no longer need this, Queen Eugenia. We are believers. Take it with you so others may be transformed."

"You are to keep it, Michael, my brave warrior. Build a temple to house it and safeguard it. You and your people are now the custodians of the ring. Others shall come to you in their time of need. Bring them to the ring. Let them be transformed."

*****

As instructed, a great temple was erected to house the ring. News of it spread from village to village. The Cult of the Ring evolved. Its priests and priestesses spread the words of hope and transformation from land to land. They were able to bring about the changes that Eugenia sought faster than her great army had ever been able to do.

Satisfied, Eugenia disbanded her army and returned to the mountains. She was never seen or heard from again. The peace and harmony of the ring were to last for more than a thousand years.

Fool Circle

By Leonard Herrington

The goddess stared at the old wizard. Since she had freed him from the ring he seemed to be aging rapidly. The man never seemed to be happy and paced constantly.

"Tell me, Fazil, what troubles you?"

Fazil turned to her. She was magnificently beautiful. Her white robes gleamed as she reclined on her throne in the sunlight.

"I am uncertain," he said, nervously ringing his hands. "I am grateful for your kindness in freeing me from ring in which I was held captive for so long. I do appreciate it, but...."

"But what, Fazil?"

"But, I am sure, as you can see, I am aging since my release. I feel the cold ache in my bones. I am also bored."

"Bored? How could you possible be bored here among the gods?"

"I am sorry. Please forgive me, I mean no slight. I simply meant that I do not know anyone here anymore and I miss the adventures that I went on during my time in the ring."

The goddess laughed.

"Do you mean to tell me, old friend, that you wish to return to the ring?"

The wizard nodded.

"I do."

The goddess removed the ring from her finger and handed it to him.

"I will place you back inside, but I warn you, there will be no escaping it again."

"I understand," Fazil responded with a nod.

"Then so be it. Return to the ring, Fazil. Let new tales be told. Let new adventures of the ring be forged. Return!"

The ring dropped to the floor where the old magician had stood making a metallic ringing sound as it did. It wobbled a few times and then finally came to rest.

A maiden retrieved the ring and brought it to the goddess.

She took it from her and looked into its stone. Fazil waved to her from inside the ring. His smile was wide and genuine.

"Take the ring, Pandora," the goddess said to the maiden, "and cast it into the mists."

Pandora took the ring and walked over to a well. She dropped the ring into it. The swirling clouds instantly engulfed it and it was gone.

"Fare thee well, Fazil, old friend, said the goddess, a faint smile on her face. "May you find what you seek? May the legend of the ring live on!"

About the Authors

Jerry Clark

Jerry Clark is a high school language arts teacher who is enjoying sharing his love of reading and writing with the students of his hometown. Before becoming a teacher, he spent 13 years as an award-winning journalist. He currently resides in Western Pennsylvania with his wife Casey and sons Trevor and Shane.

Twitter: @gclarkavsd

Scott Lee

Scott Lee is a 1986 graduate of Slippery Rock University of Pennsylvania with a BA in Anthropology. He is a professional archaeologist who's hobbies include drumming, motorcycles, giant earthmovers, hiking, disc golf, and playing cribbage. He is a huge fan of The Walking Dead and Game of Thrones, and loves spending his spare time looking for anything old to photograph or buy.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/scott.lee.359126

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/RSLZombie

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RSLZombie

Doug Ward

Doug Ward currently lives in Western Pennsylvania. He is a graduate of Slippery Rock University. He has a BFA in Fine Art. Doug spends much of his time doing oil paintings, which incorporate mythology and science. Although, his work mostly consists of horror stories, the author is currently working on a fantasy saga of which one story is currently published.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/doug.ward.754

Website: https://www.dougward.space

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ZombieDoug

Cassidy Raine Wolters

Cassidy Raine Wolters is a recent graduate of the University of Maryland where she earned a duel degree in English and Education. She was a member of the Wind Ensemble, the Pep Band, and the Delta Phi Sorority. She enjoys reading short stories, romance novels, and Calvin & Hobbes. Her original plays have been performed at the Fells Point Corner Theatre and the Strand. She lives in a studio apartment in a recently renovated Victorian home in Charles Village, Baltimore, with her orange tabby cat, Merlin, and spends most of her free time wandering around the Inner Harbor. She religiously follows the Baltimore Orioles and attends as many games as possible with her grandpa.

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/krod2000

The Writers Three

The Writers Three, B.C. Richards, Leonard Herrington, and Jon Flushing, all attended the University of Pittsburgh in the late 70s and early 80s. Not only did they share that collegiate experience together, but also a strange affinity for all things weird. Comic books, D&D, Star Trek, and really bad horror movies were among the many late night discussions that took place in their small North Oakland apartment. After over three decades, the friends decided to turn the plethora of out of the ordinary topics that they love into stories that they could share with the outside world. With the encouragement of author Doug Ward, the trio set out do just that.

Website: https://jflushing.wixsite.com/writers3

April Ward

April Ward currently lives in Western Pennsylvania. She is attended California State University and spends much of her time doing oil paintings and being in and writing about nature.

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/AprilWard

