Later that day when twilight surrenders to the thickening black of night, Rain tries to catch some sleep before her midnight shift. Events of the day replay in her mind making it impossible for her to sleep. An hour or so before her shift she gives up and climbs up on top of the deckhouse and dangles her feet over the side and plays her flute softly into the night.

As she plays, her mind wanders into a typical discussion with herself. Now why were you so candid with Newt before about your old life? I think being on the road again away from Westkeep is stirring up old memories, my friend, she thinks to herself.

Best not to dwell – not like it really matters that much anyways. You have killed several men now, your father was just the first – the first in a long line of fuckers who deserved it. Momentarily the calm, even tones of her flute give way to short, harsh expressions mimicking the thrusting gestures of a knife, so betraying her thoughts.

After dinner Indranil excuses himself and goes below deck for his evening meditation. He finds it impossible, however, to slip into a meditative state to relax. His body remains tense and his mind active, endlessly replaying various interactions and battles from the last four days. Was it only four days since I arrived in Westkeep’ he asks himself?

He finally gives up and goes to his hammock to lie down and try to get some sleep. He has the last watch and it would come soon enough. He lay there listening to the wind in the rigging and the lapping of the river water against the hull. Whispers and footsteps overlay these natural rhythms with a constant murmur of activity. He feels oppressed and oddly disconnected from his surroundings and body. It is like he is slightly out of phase with the flow around him: here but not here. It is disturbing. His mind returns to a constant question: Was he elf or human? Which world did he fit into? Neither was the answer and he felt despondent.

As Indranil’s body falls deeper and deeper towards sleep, his mind remains awake. He begins to notice that everything around has faded and lost substance – first going grey then going entirely black. He begins to feel a growing anxiety. Wake up! His body refuses. Am I dreaming? Unable to move or awaken, he begins to feel a sense of foreboding as though he is being watched by a great evil. Something is approaching! Now he grows terrified!

Just as he desperately tries to awake and scream to warn his fellow travelers the evil pressure he felt approaching recedes and the darkness begins to lighten. He finds his body relaxing and his mind clear and calm. He is able to look around and finds himself in an open glade of verdant grasses and colorful wild flowers. A cheerfully babbling brook is on his left and gorgeous golden leaved malorn trees are on his right. He takes a deep breath and it fills his soul with peace and gladness. The smells are sweet and fragrant.

From behind he hears his name called, “Indranil Marinus.”

He turns and sees the goddess Ehlenestra herself seated before him on a pure white unicorn. She is wearing a rich green and gold gown that looks like the very grasses and wildflowers themselves have grown a gown just for her. Her striking violet eyes transfix him and hold him immobile. She dismounts and whispers to her unicorn and it lies down on the grass and regally watches over them. She walks over to Indranil and places her hand upon his head and says, “Good Indranil, keeper of my faith, be at peace with yourself; you are of neither realm – elven or human – but of both and beyond. Am I too not of both worlds? Humans call me Ehlenna. Elves call me Ehlenestra. Dear Indranil, do you see me diminished in any way? You and your half-elf brethren represent the future of both races. Do not make war on yourself. I need you in this coming fight against Karaan and his minions who seek to oppress the good people of this world.”

Indranil feels utterly at peace and right within himself and the world.

He says, “My Goddess Ehlenestra, I give you my solemn pledge of faith and effort, that I will serve you until my dying breath to protect your domain and offer sanctuary to all those who follow you and the Good.”

Ehlenestra smiles upon Indranil and says, “I accept your pledge of faith and in return I vow to protect you and yours so long as you are faithful.” She then bends over him and kisses him upon his head. ”Sleep now and be at peace.” With that Indranil slips into a deep and peaceful slumber until awakened for his watch.

Xalakae pretends to sleep until those around hierm are snoring. For the first watch of the night s/he loses herself in the trance like reverie that is all hiers kind requires by way of sleep. Then s/he touches their minds, suspecting they would be less likely to notice while asleep. In the dark s/he listens to their thoughts, sifting the madness of dreams from things that may matter in waking hours. S/he avoids Noch, both mentally and proximately.

Vaskez falls asleep soon after coming back into the hold after her watch. Xalakae tries to enter her thoughts, but is immediately locked out. Vaskez stirs a bit in her hammock but does not awaken. Xalakae moves on to one of the other guardsmen, Dale. Dale sees himself sitting in the midst of a great treasure, but the coins heaped around him are falling away like sand in an hourglass. Then the seat becomes a great chariot and he riding forth in a great victory parade, but the wheels get bogged down in the muddy streets of Westkeep. He leaves the chariot and walks off with his friends in the unit and they come to a pool where a beautiful elven woman with stars for a crown hands him a cup of cool clear water. She says, “Here is your reward for all your efforts.” The dream ends as he is awakened for the pre-dawn watch.

As Gar lay falling asleep that night, he ponders the dreams of the Great Druidess and the visions he has been receiving from Obad-Hai. Even now, at this very moment, events are unfolding exactly as they have foretold. He reflects, I must not forget the details! Perhaps when we get back to Westkeep I can find a way to get a blank book, a feather quill and some ink. I’m sure they cost more than the few measly gold pieces in my pockets, but surely Obad Hai will provide….

Gar then slips into a dream of riding in a canoe deep into the marsh. There are several canoes to hold the party. In his canoe rides the girl Newt and Obad-Hai, who is now a powerful oarsman in the prime of his life. “Where exactly are we going, milord and milady?” Gar asks.

Obad-Hai laughs and says, “Why to find this one’s parents of course. They’ve been taken away by worshippers of old Thanatos. They hope to make some use of them, and that would make this bad situation much worse. Fortunately, they do not know of this one, nor that this one knows how to find them. Guard this one well and follow the trail of childhood memory.”

The boat travels on until it comes to an ancient ruined city in a tropical rain forest at the base of 300 foot high cliffs. A waterfall streams down the cliffs from about halfway up. Skeleton painted Amedi savages, patrol the city, but crouching in the shadows Gar glimpses more bestial figures. The landscape darkens as the setting sun disappears behind the cliffs. Gar awakens sometime before dawn to the sound of frantic shouting.

After finishing the first watch, Aramek finds himself bone weary as he heads for his bunk below deck. As he’s falling asleep, he can’t help but think about the strange beginning to their mission and the sudden appearance of first the attack of the Amedi and then their sudden rescue by the lizardfolk. Unconsciously his right hand reaches over to touch his left, where he had been pierced by the arrow, only to find Snoop one step ahead of him nestled against his injured hand. With this sense of security he falls asleep into chaotic dreams of burning buildings and little children running helter-skelter trying to hide from forms dressed all in black with faces painted like the Amedi warriors. He sees himself in the midst of the battle, casting spells that turn fire arrows into flaming flowers and spears into brightly colored jeweled snakes that slither into the river only to turn into gigantic naga that scoop up the warriors and swallow them whole. A beautifully scaled lizardfolk with dragon wings appears hovering above Aramek and hands him Snoop saying, “He will always save you from yourself.” Aramek then wakens to the cries of alarm.

When it comes time for Lorindel to take a rest, he lowers himself into a meditative state. Not the full trance of his elven side, but enough to drift off into pleasant dreams of his youth. Shortly after though, his dreams turn from idyllic forest realms to the chaos of the battlefield. He has returned to his shock troop squad, engaged in a hunt and clear mission that continues until he is awakened by shouting.

That night, Fingol has trouble falling asleep. As he does, he keeps hearing Sgt. Apone’s words, “Your father must be very proud,” repeated over and over.

Finally Fingol sleeps and starts to dream. He remembers one of his earliest “adventures” wherein a town was being threatened by a bear. Fingol trapped the bear, and then taught the people how to dispose of refuse so they wouldn’t draw wild animals to the town. In the dream, he is back in the town. The people are all listening intently but then they wander off. When Fingol turns back to the cage where they had herded the bear he sees that it is no longer a bear. It has changed into his father. His father is saying, “I never meant to be out here so long, should have retired to the country. Maybe it’s not too late for that. Still, I can’t imagine any other kind of life now.” He starts shaking the bars of the cage. As Fingol continues to watch, the bear changes into Indranil and starts roaring at him, “Do you really know what you’re doing? Are you bear enough?! Are you?!” The bear then changes into Gar. Gar is laughing uproariously, but then he stops and says, “Am I really trapped, or is it you?” Fingol then notes that he is also in the cage, and the town has disappeared. He looks around and then sees that the bear has changed again. This time it is Rain playing the same tune composed of short harsh staccato notes that she was playing during his watch earlier. He notices that her hands are bloody. She puts down the flute and sighs. She says, “No matter how long I play it won’t come clean. Time to leave.” She lumbers like a bear over to the door of the cage and then begins picking the lock. Before she can open the cage, the bear changes again into Newt. Newt seems a little surprised and says, “Oh! I’m in here too now!” She lumbers back over to Fingol who has been trying to think of what to do with this bear and embraces him. The dream fades into the oblivion of dreamless sleep until he too awakens to the shouting.

After her midnight shift, Rain drags her tired body into the hammock and falls asleep almost immediately and dreams that she is running down the Javan River, leaping from one crocodile to another as they keep surfacing to support her escape. Noch is following behind her, carrying the lifeless corpse of a young girl in his arms. Rain suddenly jumps from the last crocodile to shore, spins to face Noch and prepares to fight. Noch comes up to her and she notices that the lifeless corpse is Rinya. Anger overwhelms her, “You bastard!” she screams, and she drives her dagger so deep into his chest that her bare knuckles scrape against his now exposed ribs. Noch stares back at her and says in her father’s even voice, “It isn’t me, Rain.” Her dagger and hand still in his chest, she notices he is now her father as he collapses into the muddy riverbank. Rinya’s corpse has transformed into Newt. Rain collapses beside the two corpses and begins to sob loudly.

Rain’s eyes bolt open and as she rapidly sits up in her hammock, immediately fully awake and exclaims, “What the fuck?”

Breathing heavily Xalakae does hiers best to stay calm and silent. First s/he was in a boat with Gar, and then a bear in a cage, and finally a corpse. She had never done that before and found it more unpleasant than s/he would ever have guessed. S/he resolves not to enter into any dreams anymore, not anytime soon anyway. Resting in hiers hammock, Xalakae stares around hierm. Hiers darkvision allowing hierm to see all the stirring dreamers in the darkened hold clearly as s/he ponders their dreams.

Rain, meanwhile, leaves the hold and moves up to the deck needing fresh air. What the fuck was that? She walks about the deck in the pre-dawn hours trying to calm down. She finally settles enough to return to her hammock, and is still awake when Inranil begins shouting the alarm.

The Javan Queen anchors just off the northern bank of the river. Chief Rahk and at least a dozen of his warriors await them. It can be seen that they have brought several of the canoes to shore, including a war canoe.

Before getting out of the Javan Queen, Ragnbjorn calls out to the chief in Draconic, “Chief Rhodophylax, I need to speak with you apart from your men. I will wade ashore over there.” Chief Rahk nods his head in agreement.

Ragnbjorn turns to the Fingol and the Marinus brothers who have gathered around him. He hands Fingol his bow, sword, and morningstar, keeping only the dagger at his side. Fingol takes them with obvious care. “I do not want Chief Rahk to feel threatened. He himself is unarmed, as are the others down there. Not a javelin among them. You keep your bows ready, just in case. I am going to ask him if any of his warriors may have gone renegade.” Ragnbjorn then climbs over the side into the shallow waters.

Rain, still with arrow nocked and bow held at her side with her left hand, watches Ragnbjorn wade to shore while keeping periodic watch on the other lizardmen and still checking up on Noch every now and then.

Gar stands next to Rain to watch Ragnbjorn. Noticing that Rain keeps watching Noch too, he whispers in her direction, “Is Noch one of your relatives too?” as he points with his chin in Noch’s direction.

Newt takes a look at Noch and tries to see any family resemblance. Maybe Gar had been referring to the tabards. She sees that Noch was back on the stern with the other guardsmen, and is the only one soaking wet. She wonders what Noch had been doing to get himself all wet like that, and spends some time watching that group of guardsmen, hoping to figure it out. Newt determines to learn more about all this later. She carefully keeps quiet, not wanting to draw attention to herself while the guardsmen are so intent on the lizardmen. Having heard that the lizardfolk are strong swimmers (scary tales were told to the fisher folks’ children about them), Newt checks the other side of the boat and the waters beyond from time to time, in case anything comes from that direction.

Caught completely off guard by Gar’s question, Rain snorts, attempts to stifle it and only manages to begin coughing on her own quickly inhaled saliva. After some seconds she is able to control herself and then quietly whispers to Gar, “No Gar, not every questionable soul is a relative… and where in the Nine Hells did you learn diplomacy?”

Still watching Ragnbjorn, Gar smiles and says, “I am a believer in the direct approach Lady Rain. I fear Noch is going to turn on us at some crucial juncture. I was hoping you could shed some light on his quirky character. He’s just not right…..” Gar trails off then shrugs his shoulder. “What do you think?”

Rain replies, “I agree… something is not right with him. Neither is his story about being attacked at the back of the boat. He talks a good story, and seems nice enough… but… but something is just not right.”

Gar grunts his agreement.

Meanwhile, Ragnbjorn makes it to the riverbank without mishap. In the light of the moons he confers quietly with Chief Rahk. After a few moments he calls up to the boat in Draconic, “Sir Lorindel, if you could please hurl that javelin over here, we would appreciate it.” Chief Rahk walks over to his warriors and says something to them, and then they all walk off into the trees save one.

Lorindel, as requested hurls the javelin ashore. Chief Rahk and Ragnbjorn both go over to look at it. Ragnbjorn calls back to the ship, “Fingol, please come ashore and bring my weapons with you. We are all friends here.” He waits a moment for Fingol to climb off the boat and wade ashore and then calls again, “Guardsmen Noch, could you please come down here? Chief Rahk is afraid there may be renegades about and he wishes to ask you what happened.”

At this from Ragnbjorn, Aramek raises his right eyebrow, indicating his curiosity at what may follow.

Out of curiosity and a sense of self preservation, Newt/Xalakae risks a scan of Chief Rahk’s thoughts, ready to break it off if he gives any indication of sensing the attempt. In particular, s/he looks for thoughts he may have of betraying them.

S/he finds Chief Rahk to be thinking, Could it have been one of G’ruk’s warriors who tried to kill Sir Ragnbjorn? If so, we must be wary. He may try again. Or he may come after me. Damn G’ruk! Damn the Amedi! Damn this Thanatos they worship! The others may not realize it, but Sir Ragnbjorn and his friends’ arrival is most timely. They may have means of saving us all.

Never looking away from the scene on the shore, Gar says, “I wonder what Chief Rahk is going to do with his one malcontent. Kill him?”

Rain replies, “not sure…” but no longer seems to be paying attention to Gar as she looks back at Noch and lets her mind wander while keeping her eyes on Noch as he crosses over to where Ragnbjorn and the lizardfolk chieftain stand. She is tensed and ready to raise and let fly an arrow immediately if needed.

Sir Ragnbjorn’s request has Xalakae wondering about Noch’s intentions. With Noch distracted (s/he hopes) by Ragnbjorn’s request and the lizardfolk, s/he risks a scan of Noch’s thoughts. If hiers rescuers didn’t fully trust him then s/he wanted to know if there was anything risky in his mind. Surely if there was something for him to hide, he’d be thinking of it and what he was going to tell Sir Ragnbjorn and the lizardman. Noch’s mind, however, shuts Xalakae out as soon as s/he reaches out to it. He was wary indeed. In fact, he even stops in the water on the way to the riverbank, having felt hiers probe but not knowing from where it had come. He pauses to look warily at Ragnbjorn, Chief Rahk, and the remaining lizardman, but then continues on without comment.

In a voice just loud enough for those around him to hear, but not addressing anyone in particular, Gar muses, “Are there any amongst us who trust Noch completely?”

After no voice of support for Noch from his comrades, Gar smirks while still watching the shore. “I think that if Sir Ragnbjorn offered Noch’s life as a peace token, we would all be better off.”

Aramek responds to Gar’s remark with, “That may be but he did acquit himself well in defense of the Prince against the assassins.”

Gar goes, “Hmm… did he now? I have another perspective to add if any care to hear.” Gar looks around him and sees there are more people around than he feels comfortable with, but shrugs it off with a look that says, ‘Ah, to hell with it all.’

Gar says in a small voice hoping only those closest to him could hear, “Did anyone else notice Noch after it was all over? After our formal interrogations, when we were with His Highness the paladins in the room were scanning us all for truthfulness and Noch did his utmost to avoid the gaze of any of them by moving around the back of the room. He is involved with the enemy, somehow, someway, mark my words. Don’t know which side yet though….”

Aramek gets a serious look on his face as he thinks back to the events in the Prince’s chamber, then says softly to Gar, “Father Gar, as I think back on it, I believe you are right. I guess I was still too riled up by the events to notice Noch’s behavior. I too will be curious to see how this plays out.”

Gar steps back for a moment, so as not to be seen from the shore. He takes his weapons off his back. He sets his crossbow down in a safe spot along with his morning star, and checks to make sure his dagger is still stuffed safely up his left sleeve. Noticing the odd looks from some of his friends, Gar shrugs and says, “I think I’ll be called over next. I’d rather not parley loaded with weapons, even if it is okay. Gods know I am more dangerous naked than armed anyway.” Laughing softly, amused with himself, Gar steps back up to the edge of the keel boat to see what may be seen.

Indranil stands alertly on the edge of the keelboat ready to assist as needed. He is careful not to bare his teeth in a human or half-elf type smile; showing of teeth is a threat gesture to the lizardfolk; instead he slightly lowers his head holding his mouth partially open while lightly licking his lips in the lizardfolk equivalent of a smile. He is also careful to move slowly and deliberately as not to agitate them.

Seeing everyone’s attention focused on things away from the boat, Newt creeps quietly onto the deck. She notes that the fresh air is only a slight improvement over the air below decks. Still checking the riverside of the boat occasionally, she makes her way towards the rail closest to shore, trying to keep the lizardfolk chieftain in view and moving to stand behind Father Gar.

Four lizardfolk bearing long poles with everburning torches return to the riverbank. They plant the poles at four corners of a 40’ by 40’ square and then proceed to draw a circle in the center of the square that is roughly 30’ in diameter. Ragnbjorn sticks the javelin into the center of the circle. Then Chief Rahk, the other lizardman who had remained at Chief Rahk’s side, Noch, and Fingol all enter the circle. They confer together for a time in low voices. At the end of it, they all bow to one another, and then Ragnbnorn, Fingol, and Noch return to the keelboat.

Ragnbjorn climbs up atop the deckhouse and says to all, “Within the circle of honor, Chief Rahk has listened to our account of how a lone lizardman warrior got aboard this ship, having pulled Noch into the water, and then made an attempt on my life with this javelin before diving back into the waters. They did not see this attempt, but he believes that we are being truthful. In return, Chief Rahk asks us to believe that neither he nor any of those under his command had anything to do with it. He believes that it was a lone renegade and they will search for him.

“In the meantime, he said that they do not believe there are anymore Amedi warriors in the area. Thanks to our inadvertently luring them all out into the middle of the river they were able to defeat these Amedi who they had been hunting for some time. Lord Heslex, the water naga that Father Gar befriended was instrumental in this, in that he came here ahead of us and found Chief Rahk and told him that we were looking for him in hopes of negotiating a settlement. When the Chief came to Cypress Hill to meet us they found both that it had been razed and that its attackers were still lying in wait for river traffic.

“He also told us that Adelina, or Newt as she pleases, is indeed one of the survivors of Cypress Hill and had no contact with the Amedi other than having to hide from them for some time. That should clear her of any suspicions any of us may have towards her in connection with the ambush.

“Finally, Chief Rahk has asked that we make camp here for the night. His warriors will join ours in making sure that no one comes upon us here during the night. In the morning, he wishes to continue talks with myself, Fingol, and Father Gar. I believe there may be more at stake here than just negotiating fishing rights and territorial limits.

“I also must commend you all for performing admirably during the Amedi ambush. Because of your professionalism and courage under fire we were able to weather the attack without a single casualty. I am honored to serve with warriors such as you. Unfortunately, you may be called upon to exhibit such courage and strength again before this is over. I am sure you will continue to do so with honor and in the highest traditions of the Kingdom of Keoland. Now for tonight, we will keep to the regular watch assignments. That is all.”

Hearing everything Ragnbjorn has to say, Aramek turns to Gar and says, “I don’t know. That renegade warrior seemed intent on specifically killing Sir Ragnbjorn. If all he wanted to do was kill humans, why didn’t he kill Noch, instead of just pulling him into the river? I’m not completely satisfied with the idea that this was just the act of a renegade. What say you, Father Gar?” 

Though directed at Gar, Rain responds, “I agree Aramek. There is still something more here we are not seeing.”

Gar grunts his agreement. “All proceeds exactly according to the dreams of the Great Druidess and my visions from Obad-Hai. There are factions amongst the lizardfolk, just like amongst us humans.”

Turning around with a smile, Gar greets Newt with a bow and then opens his arms wide, “Welcome young Lady Newt to the Javan Queen! What an adventurous day it has been. I fear I forgot to introduce myself properly when we met earlier. I am Father Gar of the Flan. Did you find some food yet? Supper will be soon.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, milord,” replies Newt with a curtsy, a bit uncomfortable to have so many eyes on her. She notices her still-grubby hands and remembers that she hadn’t cleaned up yet. I must look a mess! she thinks.

Pressing on, Newt comes out of the curtsy saying, “Adelina at your service, milord. But everyone just calls me Newt, if it pleases you. And yes, I found some food. Thank you for all your help.” Newt couldn’t help but like this man. ”I hope there is some way I can return the kindness you’ve shown me – all of you,” she adds, with as charming a smile as she can summon up, looking around at the others in turn.

Keen to learn how things work among these people, Newt notes that Sir Ragnbjorn, clearly their leader, valued Father Gar’s opinion and sought it out. She also notes that Lady Rain was one to speak out of turn.

Indranil whispers to Rain, “Perhaps you could show her a bucket and cloth and help her get cleaned up?”

Gar smiles in return. “What a charming young thing. Would you like to get cleaned up, Newt? I’m sure we can find you something clean to wear. I have an extra leather mail shirt with me too, if you would like to wear it for extra protection?”

Rain measures up Gar and Newt with her eyes, imagining poor Newt dragging around totally oversized leather armor. “Thanks Gar, but I think something more my size would be better.” Rain smiles and says to Newt, ”Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up a bit.” Rain leads her over to a secluded place with a stream where Newt can wash up. Rain then pulls out an extra shirt and pants from her pack for Newt to wear.

Once they are alone and she is cleaning up in the stream, Rain continues to keep a careful watch but asks without looking at her new companion, “So Newt, how old are you and what did you do before the attack?”

Newt doesn’t show it, but she is disappointed not to be getting some leather armor. Maybe Rain will loan me some, she thinks hopefully. Anyway, clean clothes of any kind would be nice, and Rain’s will certainly fit better.

To Rain’s question, Newt replies, “I’m fifteen years old. We fished for crabs and shrimp to earn money, but mother and father can do lots of things. Father can work metal, write, do numbers, and tell tales really well. I learned a lot of that stuff from him. Mother sometimes traded with the bargemen and taught me how to use plants for medicine and cooking. They are going to…” Newt pauses a bit, and then continues more quietly. “They were going to move us to a city soon, because they said I’m almost ready. They said it would be better if I finished growing up somewhere besides the bayous.”

Drying off and dressing, she changes the topic. “Thank you for the loan of the clothes. How did you come to be in Sir Ragnbjorn’s service? What did you do before that?” She listens with half her mind, the other half on recent events and her future.

Rain smiles and responds, “I am a member of the Westkeep Guard. Long before that came to be I grew up in a small village similar to you…” Rain’s smile fades immediately as she loses herself in thought. Why in the Nine Hells did I just say that? I have never told anybody about that. What the hells is wrong with you Rain?

After a few seconds she regains control and forces a small smile again to change the subject quickly, “Anyways, yah… I’m a member of the Guard reporting to Sgt. Apone.”

Newt asks, “Do you think I could stay with Sir Ragnbjorn’s men-at-arms for a while? At least until my parents and I find each other.” Her rescuers would be sure to think her parents dead Newt thinks, but she isn’t ready to admit that they would probably be right; but if anyone could have survived, it was her parents. ”I can stand watches to make myself useful, and I can learn just about anything,” she offers hopefully.

“I don’t see why not. Ask Ragnbjorn about that, I’m sure he can find a use for you to earn your keep. Have you been taught to fight?”

“Well, not with weapons, really. I’ve wrestled with the boys some. And I can spear a fish, and even shoot arrows at them – a little. But I haven’t had to learn to fight another person. Until a couple nights ago there had never been a need. Do you think I should learn to fight? Does everyone have to learn sometime?”

Rain smiles at Newt’s innocence and replies, “Yah Newt… I’m afraid that if you are going to be coming with us you might want to learn to fight.”

Newt ponders such a future. She doesn’t like the idea of having to fight a lot. It seems much better to let others do the fighting. Perhaps there are other means I can use to make my way in the world. Then again, maybe I’d better learn at least a little about how to fight. Ugh! It wasn’t supposed to be like this! It just isn’t fair!

Once Rain and Newt have gone off, Lorindel leans close to Ragnbjorn and whispers within earshot of Fingol and Indranil. “With all due respect, sir, this is no place for that young woman,” criticizes Lorindel. “Seems Rain and Father Gar have decided to watch over her, which is fine by me. Personally I think that she should be kept below deck at all times for her own good.”

Ragnbjorn replies, “I agree this is no place for a young woman. I want to send her back to Westkeep as soon as we can. However, it seems that Father Gar had another prophetic vision in which he learned that she may be needed. Fingol heard it also. He delivered it when we were conferring in the deckhouse before the lizardfolk appeared. He had a fainting spell and when he awoke he said that Obad-Hai told him that he had done well and that we would need the help of both the lizardfolk and this girl. Father Gar hasn’t steered us wrong yet, so let’s keep her safe but for the time being we may need to keep her with us.”

Fingol shakes his head, “Perhaps she seems young to you, being half-elven, but at 15 she is old enough to start her own way in this world. In another year she may well be wed. I am more concerned that she is untrained in any martial skills… so far as we know. If we go into danger, she’ll need to be watched. Still, she has survived an ordeal many of her older and apparently stronger relations did not.”

“Hmm,” muses Ragnbjorn, “maybe one of you should take one of the extra longspears and teach her how to defend herself. Get a sense of how capable or incapable she is. If nothing else, she can either join the Guard down the line, or perhaps Lady Sedara has need of another servant at the palace.”

“As you command,” obeys Lorindel.

That night a campfire is made and dinner is held on the riverbank. Newt makes it a point to help with supper, always listening attentively. She goes out of her way to make herself useful by serving the lords in order of rank (as best she can make it out). She even ventures some comments whenever she has something appropriate to add (but nothing that would expose who/what she is). She stays alert for any tidbits that might indicate something she could do beyond playing the part of a servant.

Master Ailil, and the three fishermen delegates come out of the hold for supper, but they all keep to themselves.

Newt is introduced to Captain Olnut, his First Mate Uglash, and the crew of eight Olman tribesmen. They seem friendly enough, or at least friendlier than the fishermen, but they don’t try to mix with the knights or soldiers, or even the fishermen.

At some point during the evening, Fingol sits next to Sgt Apone and says, “As strange a day as this has been, I prefer it to a day in the city. How about you? Are you happy to be free of the worries of patrolling the town and the keep?”

Sgt Apone laughs and says, “Sorry lad, I am a city rat, not a country mouse like you rangers. At least with city patrols I more or less know what to expect.”

“Hrmph, well, to each his own. I still love a night under the stars. How’s your leg, by the by? I know Father Gar healed you, but still… It was a fierce wound.”

“That it was. That it was. But it’s all good now thanks to Father Gar. He didn’t leave a scratch or even a bruise. I can’t say that I’d prefer Father Gar to a good and honest priest of Heironeous, my own patron you understand. Still, for a priest of Obad-Hai he seems like he means us all well. That was some good shooting you did back there. I think you got a couple of hits on those savages. Your father must be mighty proud of you.”

Fingol chuckles a bit, “Father Gar? Yeah, he’s a character. I’ve only been around him, well… less than a week, but it seems I’ve known him for months in a way. I suppose that’s how some people are. Thank for your compliments on my shooting. Well, I get lucky sometimes… The bow is not my preferred weapon, although most in my company seem to favor it.” 

Fingol looks into the fire for a time and then says, “I’m not so sure what my father is proud of. I think he’d prefer I were more diligent, like my brother. For my part, I am proud to be his son. He shows great mettle to open talks with the lizardfolk after that attack. More mettle, I think, than some here are ready to show themselves.”

Sgt. Apone mulls that over for while, and then he says, “He is a brave one, that’s for sure. I remember that he was the one who first negotiated with the lizardfolk so that our army could cross over the marshes without any trouble from them. Maybe one of their warriors just got overzealous. I trust Sir Ragnbjorn, but I’ll be sleeping with one eye open tonight all the same.”

“I’m sure my father is counting us to just that!”

After supper, Fingol walks along the riverbank during his watch, looking up at the stars. He’s actually glad to be out here again, despite the dangers. He glances over at Aramek and thinks on how he envies the elves and half-elves their vision more than their long lives. How many more stars they can see – than his human eyes can! 

He also thinks of Newt. Her presence disturbs him. Not in the way of having to look out for a non-combatant, but it makes him think of all the people he has met and left behind in his patrols and wanderings. Who is going to take responsibility for Newt if we do get her back safely to Westkeep? She is alone in the world. More should be done for her than just taking her to Westkeep, but what? Should she be left with the Heronians? Or made to serve in the keep? Would that be the life she wants? 

As for the lizardfolk, he is not so worried now about the negotiations. It seems we’ve stumbled into the middle of a war – not a trade dispute. War I know a little more about, or at least it is what I have been trained for as one of the King’s Rangers.

Atop the deckhouse, Indranil and Lorindel help Captain Olnut guide the Javan Queen. The light of both the silver moon Luna and the smaller aquamarine Celene shine through the ragged drifting clouds. Since both are more than half full they are able to provide more than enough light for the brothers’ night vision. As they come abreast of the drifting capsized canoes, they see that the bodies of the Amedi are floating in the water around them. Other things are now scrambling atop the canoes. At first the brothers think that they are crocodiles, but then they see that these are far too humanoid. In fact, they are dressed in loincloths and necklaces made of crocodile teeth. The brothers estimate that standing, these creatures would appear to be six feet tall powerfully muscled cross between a human and an iguana, with leathery scales, a short reptilian snout filled with teeth, and a thick tail like that of an alligator. The largest of them, now crouching atop the capsized war canoe, seems to be hailing the boat.

Indranil says to Lorindel, ”Brother! Do you see them? Are these the lizardfolk? Perhaps we should alert Sir Ragnbjorn that we have found them. What do you think?”

The Captain says, “That sounds like a good idea, one you had better go down there and tell Sir Ragnbjorn.”

Lorindel lowers his bow to avoid sending any unintentional hostility, but holds his bow and keeps an arrow loosely nocked.

Indranil springs lightly down from the deck house roof to the deck and then sprints into the deck house saying, “Sir Ragnbjorn! We have found them! The lizardfolk! They are all around us! What should we do?”

Ragnbjorn says, “Well that solves the problem of trying to find them. It looks like they have found us! Let’s go out and see what they want.”

Rain follows Fingol out onto the deck and asks him as they are leaving the deckhouse, “Hey Fin, how do I say ‘Thank you’ in Draconic?”

As Ragnbjorn, Fingol, Gar, and Rain follow Indranil back out onto the bow, where Sgt. Apone is watching the lizardfolk crouched atop the canoes off the port side there is a cry from Noch on the starboard side followed by a splash. Everyone turns to see what it is when a lizardfolk warrior clambers up onto the deck from the starboard side and hurls a javelin right at Ragnbjorn crying in Draconic, “Die you filthy hairless ape!” Fortunately the javelin bounces off, for Ragnbjorn is wearing mithril armor under his tunic. The reptilian warrior whirls around and dives off the boat.

As everyone rushes over, Noch surfaces and he is desperately trying to keep afloat in his leather armor. “Help me! The lizardfolk grabbed me and pulled me over! They’re going to kill us!” His eyes are wide with fear as he looks around the water and the keelboat, still at full sail, pulls away from him leaving him in its wake, but his fear seems to be a bit contrived. There is no sign of the lizardfolk warrior who tried to kill Ragnbjorn. Then at the last possible moment, Noch manages to swim up and catch the side of the Javan Queen.

Rain answers her own question to Fingol, “Never mind,” and crouches down to string her bow in cover.

Aramek puts his light crossbow across his back, readying a magic missile, just in case and follows Gar toward the bow.

Lorindel draws tight his bow, and runs along the deck towards the nearest threat, but it does not seem as though any of the other lizardfolk are attacking. They are craning their heads trying to see what the commotion is aboard the Javan Queen.

Indranil cries, ”By the gods! The lizardfolk must think we are an enemy! Father Gar! Do your stuff!”

Gar throws both hands in the air. “Wait! Please don’t shoot yet!”

Fingol scans the boat to see if anyone else is by themselves and thus vulnerable to being pulled off the boat. Seeing that everyone has moved back from the gunwales, he heads back to help Noch back aboard. Perhaps, thinks Fingol, we’re only safe because the keelboat is too large to rollover like the canoes. But for now, we have to pray for the best.

Rain says to herself, “Wait… did I see Noch and the lizardman together at any point? What the hell is going on?”

At Gar’s request, Lorindel holds. “Give me a reason, Father!” shouts Lorindel. “As far as I can see, they’ve initiated this conflict.” He then calls to Ragnabjorn. “Sir, orders!”

Ragnbjorn shouts from his place at the bow, “Yes, Father Gar is right. Everyone hold their fire. Captain, bring her about and weigh anchor. That’s Chief Rahk and I want to know if that was his man and why we’re being attacked.”

Lorindel complies with the command. He once again lowers his bow, but keeps an arrow loosely nocked.

“You sure about that sir?” the Captain asks.

“Chief Rahk may not know I’m aboard. Let’s give him a chance. Indranil, go down into the hold and bring forth the Banner of Rao. Everyone else, stay ready but keep your weapons down.”

As Indranil runs below deck, Gar looks up at Lorindel and says loud enough to be heard, “We should hold our fire because they just saved us from the Armedi, that’s why.”

Aramek takes note that the lizardfolk in the boats seem unaware of what just happened regarding Sir Ragnbjorn. He wonders to himself, Why aren’t they attacking as well?

Back at the stern, Noch is climbing back aboard with the help of Vaskez and Drake. He is wet but otherwise okay.

Rain readies her bow in normal non-aggressive fashion. She stands next to Ragnbjorn awaiting orders and keeping an eye on Noch. Rain is not really sure, but with all the confusion she is conjuring up images of Noch jumping in the river, shape changing into a lizardman, climbing back aboard and throwing the javelin, then jumping back into the river and changing back to human, then screaming for help and climbing back aboard with some crazy ass story of being dragged down by unseen lizard guys.

Indranil races down to the hold to get the flag. The Banner of Rao is a large white flag embossed with Rao’s heart shaped mask of tranquility. Since Rao is the Flan god of peace, reason, and serenity, his banner has long been used among the nations of the Flanaess as a call for truce and negotiations. When he gets down in the hold, Indranil finds the banner easily enough, but Master Ailil of the Fishmonger’s Guild rushes up to him and asks, “What is going on up there? Are we still under attack?”

Indranil responds, “Master Ailil, we are now safe from the Amedi attack and we have just made contact with the lizardfolk. We have some diplomatic niceties to go through as we establish initial contact with Chief Rahk. Please stay below while we do that.” With that Indranil races back to the deck to hand the flag to Sir Ragnbjorn.

Newt awakens when Indranil came down to fetch the Banner of Rao and overhears his response to Ailil and the fishermen. Impelled by the impatience of youth, a sense that the fishermen were neither friendly nor useful, and a general need for more information about the people she has now found herself with she quickly heads up to the deckhouse. Looking around, she moves to the back of the deckhouse to eavesdrop on those standing at the bow.

Remembering her earlier question, Fingol whispers to Rain, “If you want to say ‘thank you’ to them just say, ‘Hrrm ahk siss.’”

Newt, who speaks Draconic, knows that this is actually the lizardfolk equivalent to, “I am a slut.” She can’t imagine why one of these people would set another one up like that.

Before long, the Javan Queen is brought around to where the war canoe is drifting. The crew is now at the oars in order to keep pace with it. The Banner of Rao now flies from the mast. The lizardman identified by Ragnbjorn as Chief Rahk hails him in Draconic and the two begin to converse. Alone among them, Fingol, Aramek, the Marinus brothers, and the eavesdropping Newt are able to follow the conversation.

Gar knows enough Draconic to follow a little, but it is hard to make sense of as he is not familiar with all the quirks and idioms of the reptilian language.

“Hail Sir Ragnbjorn!” says Chief Rahk, “It is muddy to see you more sun. I believe we have nest egg, Lord Heslex. He found me and told me of your hunting but not hunting. When I came out here to meet you we found Cypress Hill like spoiled eggs and the Amedi snaking. There was also a chick out of its nest waiting to be eaten, though we were not hungry. Did you scoop it up?”

Ragnbjon says, “Hail and well met Chief Rhodophylax. Our yokey Father Gar,” he indicates Gar, “seems to have rained sunlight upon Lord Heslex. I am glad that he came to you. Your brooding is most certainly appreciated. Oh, and yes, we snapped up the chick. The nest is otherwise empty.”

Chief Rahk nods and says, “The Amedi have recently taken up the worship of some cold bringing one. Our tales say that over a thousand years ago such a one was bowed to. Now it seems he is bowed to once more. The Amedi are now consuming. Our tongues should hiss elsewhere. Can you bring your carven log to the cold side? We will nest there and hiss at each other.”

Ragnbjorn responds, “Yes, that sounds like a deer drinking water. I will tell the Captain.”

Newt makes a mental note that Sir Ragnbjorn and Sir Fingol speak Draconic. She wonders who else knows that tongue. Newt gasps quietly on hearing that the lizardfolk had been so close. Hearing herself, she chokes the gasp off and hopes nobody heard her. The lizardfolk saw me! I thought I had done such a good job of hiding! I didn’t even see them at all! It’s a good thing I’m with these others now. It was only dumb luck that I wasn’t killed when I was alone.

As Ragnbjorn turns to the Captain, Chief Rahk and the other lizardfolk dive back into the water. Ragnbjorn says, speaking Keolandish again, “Captain Olnut, please take us to the northern bank of the river. We will camp there for the night so that Father Gar, Fingol, and I can speak with Chief Rahk.”

Lorindel slips over towards Ragnbjorn and questions, “What about the assault? Will you not demand justice? It’s an outrage,” he whispers.

Ragnbjorn answers so that all nearby can hear, “Oh, don’t think I will let that pass by without comment. Still, I have a strong feeling that Chief Rahk knows nothing about it, and it will be the first thing I ask him about. Nor do I plan on letting any of us be put in a vulnerable position until I’m sure of his answers.”

Rain steps over to Fingol and asks, “So what did they say?”

“Nothing that we hadn’t already known or guessed,” whispers Fingol. “Then arrangements were made for further talks.”

Rain whispers back sarcastically, “Nice… but are we not a bit too close to the last engagement to be coming ashore now for a chat with more potential hostiles?”

Tired of her questioning, Fingol pulls rank a bit, “Keep focused, guardsman!” he replies in a quick whisper.

Rain is visibly surprised at this answer to her benign question and answers, “Uh yah… sorry Fin… er… sir.” She moves away from Fingol, still keeping her eyes mostly on the the lizardfolk but also on Ragnbjorn. 

Newt, peeking from out of the shutters in the deckhouse shrieks in surprise and stares wide-eyed as the Amedi are pulled under. She and her parents had posed as fisher folk for most of her life, so she’s spent a fair amount of time on the river or along its banks but had never seen or heard of anything like this happening.

Rain mutters under her breath, “Holy shit”. She quickly gathers her wits and checks on Aramek and finds that his wounds have been closed by Gar’s will.

Aramek yells to Gar, “Thank you for your help!” and to Rain he says, “Don’t ask me why but I just had a feeling Father Gar’s amicable relationship with the naga might come in handy. Just don’t tell him or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Fingol looks out over the railing at the capsized canoes drifting by. I wonder what the guardsmen think of Father Gar’s friends now?

Gar also wonders for a moment if the nagas were in fact responsible for this, but then shrugs and heads back to the stern saying,“If anyone here at the bow needs more healing, follow me to the stern.” With that, he sets off at a jog toward the back of the boat.

Indranil lowers his bow, unstrings it, and slips it back into its leather case over his shoulder. He takes a deep breath and rubs his head. ”By The gods! I thought we were lost!”

Indranil looks over the roof to see how Lorindel and Uglash are doing, “Brother, Uglash are you well?”

Uglahs grins back and gives him the thumbs up.

Brother Uglash? Fingol starts, I must have misheard.

Lorindel looks over his mates to make sure everyone is okay, and then heads down with Indranil to the main deck. “Can’t say that was unexpected,” Lorindel says cavalierly. ”The question is,” he continues to Indranil, “was the girl bait or is she with them? I’ll leave that for others to decide.”

Indranil laughs quietly and says to no one in particular, “and they think me paranoid.”

Indranil looks over the Javan Queen and it looks like a porcupine so full of arrows stuck in the wood that he remarks, “I am amazed we are not all dead. The gods smiled upon us this day and lent us their protection. Have they taken an interest in our expedition as well?”

Fingol checks on Sgt. Apone and sees that he has also been healed by Gar.

Fingol turns to Aramek, “How’s your hand? And how did Snoop fare in his first battle?”

“Thanks for asking, Sir Fingol,” Aramek nods in reply. “By the way Snoop was squirming he was doing his best to stay out of the way.” Snoop nips Aramek as a retort to this accusation. “Ouch! I mean he was doing his best to protect me.” Aramek says with a smile and a blush.

Indranil overhears this and asks, “Who is Snoop?”

Snoop pokes his head out from Aramek’s pocket and gives Indranil a toothy grin, as though to say, ‘Watch out!’

Indranil mutters to himself, “Got to watch out for that ferret – so he don’t eat my balls.”

Aramek gives a friendly wink to Rain and then follows after Gar. Snoop, sensing Indranil’s feelings toward him, gives him a ‘and don’t you forget it’ squeak.

Ragnbjorn surveys the ship and the crew. After a moment he says, “I have sent a message to Prince Prospero telling him of the razing of Cypress Hill and of this ambush. I told him that I would send him an update tomorrow. For now, I would like the Marinus brothers to keep watch out here. Guardsman Rain, please check on Newt and take her down into the hold. Try to find a hammock and some water and rations for her. We’ll want to talk to her later. Father Gar, Fingol, I’d like to speak with you both in the deckhouse now that we have a moment. We need to reassess our mission here I think.”

Rain nods and takes Newt down to the hold to where Rain’s hammock is. “You okay? I’m gonna take you down to the hold and a few of us will come down later to talk with you. You will be safe there for now.”

Indranil and Lorindel move back up atop the deckhouse to keep watch as instructed.

Fingol heads into the deckhouse as he is asked.

Since Gar ran ahead of the others, he takes the time to stabilize Dale, Kash, and Frost at the stern. When Aramek, Hex, and Ferro arrive, he centers himself and takes a deep breath in and out and then intones, “Om!” twice to send out the healing positive energies granted him by Obad-Hai. When everyone is healed, Gar follows Fingol into the deckhouse.

Down in the hold, the three fishermen and Master Ailil quickly mob Rain and Newt and begin questioning her anxiously about what is happening above deck.

The first is Master Ailil of the Fishmongers Guild. Ailil is an older man with golden hair turning to grey, light blue eyes, and fair skin. “What is happening up there?” he hisses in his whispery voice.

Eochaid the Shrimper, asks, “Who is this? What happened to her?” Eochaid is dark tan, with light brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He cups his hand to his right ear to catch the answer.

Lugaid, known as Crabby, a tanned man with auburn hair and gray eyes, asks, “Are…are…are we being attacked by the lizardfolk? Is…is…is that who destroyed Cypress Hill?”

Finally, there is the other Lugaid, known as Fishbate, who is also well tanned with dark brown hair and amber eyes. His voice is deep and fills the room, “Have we really escaped? Are we returning to Westkeep? I knew this was a fool’s errand!”

Rain attempts to take immediate control of the situation. “Gentlemen, stand back and I will answer all of you in turn!” Rain then answers over her shoulder while locating an empty hammock next to her own for Newt and leading her there with an arm over Newt’s shoulder, “We were attacked by what appears to have been Amedi warriors who we now assume sacked Cypress Hill. Yes we have escaped and are heading back downriver towards Westkeep. This here is Newt, the only survivor we were able to find. She has been through quite a bit so none of you will bother her right now. Is that understood?” At this last question she turns around to face the four of them with a face that says, ‘I don’t care who you think I am to you, you will obey me!’

The delegates, and particularly Master Ailil, are not impressed however. He glares at Rain and says, “Don’t get snippy with me, young miss. You better remember whom you’re dealing with. Westkeep will starve without the Fishmonger’s Guild, but one less guttersnipe of a recruit will hardly be missed. Come along gentlemen, we will save our questions for Sir Ragnbjorn. No need to waste our time with riffraff.” With that Master Ailil turns and strides away, the three other delegates in tow.

Rain laughs at him as they walk away then says to Newt, “Well that went better than I had hoped for, now they really will leave you alone. Have a seat here and help yourself to some food and water.” Rain indicates the free hammock and where food and water can be found. “I am going to head up for a bit, but some of us will be down to check on you shortly.”

Rain moves up to the deck house seemingly to check back in with Fingol and Ragnbjorn, but really just trying to find out what the next move is.

Up in the deckhouse, Ragnbjorn looks solemnly at Fingol and Gar and then says, “I fear that Sir Indranil is right. If we stay out here and there is another Amedi force like the one we just faced we are doomed. On the other hand, I fear for Chief Rahk and the lizardfolk. If they have not already been wiped out, they soon will be, and that may set in motion the prophecy of the Great Druidess. Also, I don’t know what came to our aid out there; it could be any number of things that are not necessarily friendly to us either. It could be the water nagas, but there would have to have been a number of them to take on all three of those groups. And if there is indeed more than one of them, I don’t want to trust our safety to their moods, even if Lord Heslex seemed to have taken a liking to Father Gar. So what do you say, should we try to hide this boat in one of the bayous and seek out Chief Rahk to see if we can avert this prophecy, or should we head back to Westkeep and when more troops can be spared we can bring a force back up here to clear out any of the Amedi who might remain and then look for the lizardfolk?”

“Milord, if seeking out the lizardfolk is our primary mission,” responds Gar, “then we should make haste into the bayou to find them before all are gone. If we turn back now then all will be for naught. I feel a surge of healing energy deep within me. I will do my utmost to keep everyone alive, Sir Ragnbjorn.”

Fingol jumps in after Father Gar, looking Ragnbjorn in the eye, “Father, the final decision is yours, and I don’t envy you the responsibility. My mind is much like Father Gar’s, however, if we head back to Westkeep now, we will be abandoning the lizardfolk to the Amedi. I don’t know what we can do to save them. I don’t know what saved us. I do know that the prophecies we have been given push us on.” 

After a pause he continues, “Regarding Indranil, I see that he is an excellent soldier. If you prefer him to be second in command, I would gladly give him the post. You know my temperament has never been for command, or military matters. I can represent the Prince without the honor of being your second.”

Ragnbjorn considers this. “I agree, I think we should search for Chief Rahk and the Malarat tribe. I worry though about the Javan Queen, its crew, and the other delegates. They are too vulnerable and will only get in the way. Maybe they should go back. The three of us, the Marinus brothers, and perhaps some of the guardsmen, probably Rain and Aramek at least, should grab some of those empty canoes out there, and make our own way down the bayous and then to the lizardfolk village. My worry, though, is that whatever is in those waters will come after us as well. Oh, and perhaps you are right Fingol. I’ll keep Sir Indranil as my second in command as regards military matters, he is a couple of years senior to you and I don’t want to seem like I’m biased by choosing you, my son, over him. But you make the decisions regarding diplomatic matters as the Prince intended, he only appointed us to be guides and interpreters. As for the latter, your Draconic is coming along very well.”

At the thought of Sir Indranil as second in command, Gar is overwhelmed and begins to feel light-headed. His eyes flutter and then he keels over with a loud thump like a felled tree. For Gar, it seems to him that Obad-Hai catches him and speaks to him.

Rain comes back up into the deckhouse just as Gar falls. Ragnbjorn sees her but says nothing, and Fingol’s attention is on the fallen Gar.

When Gar opens his eyes, he looks up at father and son. Then Gar rubs his head and slowly sits up. “I guess Obad-Hai wanted to add his two gold pieces to the conversation as well.”

Standing up a little shakily, Gar collects his thoughts and then says, “My god just told me, ‘You have done well my child, you have indeed become an even greater vessel of the life giving power that you and your companions will need to survive what is to come. Do not abandon the lizardfolk. They need your aid, just as you needed theirs. Take only the bravest and strongest of you. Bring the girl Newt as well. She knows where you must go next even if she does not realize it, and in the future she may be the key to confounding the forces arrayed against you.’” Gar scratches his head. “Could that have been the lizardfolk who just saved us?”

Fingol thinks back to when Gar had his earlier vision a few days ago, I knew we should’ve hit him again!

“Yes, indeed. I had wondered if it could not also have been the lizardfolk,” Ragnbjorn says thoughtfully. “They are good swimmers and can stay under far longer than humans. It could indeed have been them.”

Down below, Newt heard the thump of Gar falling. Instinctively, she looked upward, although there was no way to see what happened without coming back up into the deckhouse. She decides to leave well enough alone since no more shouting or cries of alarm can be heard. All seems calm up above.

The fishermen had heard it too, and are now muttering among themselves. Newt leaves her place and goes over to them. Perhaps I can get some information from them while my rescuers are busy. They may even have information that those soldiers might be reluctant to pass along.

Approaching them, she asks again, “Why are you here? Don’t the soldiers like you? What’s going on, and why does he,” she indicates Fishbate, “think you’re on a fool’s errand?” She keeps her face genuinely curious, but internally, she smirks and hopes she hasn’t pushed her luck too far.

Ailil looks down his nose at Newt, but then he smiles, and in his whispery voice says, “Well, well, so you do speak. We are here because those fools up there,” he points up to the deck, “think that the snakeskins can be reasoned with, and their ridiculous Prince has ordered us to come out here to find them and negotiate a peace treaty with them. What is needed is to exterminate those savages who are no better than those Amedi scum. As for that, what happened out there? Did we escape those rebellious slaves?”

Newt knows that the humans often refer to the lizardfolk as “snakeskins.” She also recalls what her parents had once told her about the Amedi. They had once been the slaves of the Sea Princes who had ruled these lands. When the Scarlet Brotherhood came, they were freed and recruited as soldiers alongside the Amedi who already filled the Brotherhood’s legions. She senses that Master Ailil is not just opposed to negotiating but would do anything to prevent it.

In answer to Ailil’s question, Newt responds, “Yes, we caught the wind in our sails, and were going to try to go around them, but then I saw all the attackers get pulled under the water. I’ve never seen anything like that before, and I’ve been on the river all my life. What was it?”

The three fishermen and Ailil all look at one another, obviously puzzled and alarmed. Ailil says, “It may be that the water nagas have come to our aid. That Lord Heslex seems to have taken a liking to Father Gar. Perhaps that is it. The naga are hardly to be trusted, and neither is that freakish Flan priest. The naga are undoubtedly saving us – for when they get hungry later.” The other fishermen nod in agreement.

Ailil turns back to Newt, “Now who are you? Did you live in Cypress Hill?”

Newt says, “Not exactly, my parents and I lived a few miles away in a cabin along one of the bayous. We fished and caught crabs and shrimp that we brought to the trading post. We just came into town a couple of days ago when the Amedi attacked and burned the whole place down. My parent’s hid me in a hole and then disappeared.”

Ailil clucks sympathetically, “A sad story indeed, young one,” though she can tell that in his stony heart he could really care less.

Newt follows the conversation among the fishermen and the Guild Master a bit longer, but heavy eyelids got the best of her. She returns to the table and falls asleep there before she finishes her bread.

As everyone ashore rushes back to the ship the flaming arrows continue to splash with hisses and smoke into the water around the Javan Queen. Some hit the boat but their fires burn out without doing any damage except blackening the hull a bit. The arrows seem to be wrapped in resin soaked twists of cloth and set alight with fire pots on the canoes. A couple of the arrows that hit the deckhouse do almost set it ablaze. Uglash fires the ballista at the canoes coming upriver and hits one of their archers, then he jumps down off the deckhouse to grab a bucket that he fills with water from the port side of the boat and extinguishes one of the fires. He heads back to the side to refill the bucket to extinguish the other, but the flaming arrows continue to streak across the darkening river towards the boat. Ferro, Kash, and Dale return fire with their longbows. The arrows from beyond the cypress trees continue to rain down upon the clearing and the riverbank, but now everyone is back aboard the Javan Queen and the oarsmen begin to push the boat back out into the depths of the river.

Fingol sends his team to the bow and stern and gives the order, “Fire at the paddlers! Slow the canoes down.” 

Gar tells Uglash, “I’ll take care of fire duty. You can stay at the ballista, okay?” Then Gar calls upon the power of Obad-Hai to send a small hurricane of wind and rain out of the palm of his hand to put out the spot fires. He tries to aim away from his comrades so that they do not get blasted by the wind.

Once everyone has scrambled aboard and the guardsmen get into position to begin firing back, the Olman crew of the Javan Queen push the boat back out and then take up their oars. Uglash rushes back up to the top of the deckhouse and begins winding the ballista back to full cock. Flaming arrows from the canoes upriver and downriver continue to fall onto the boat and into the water around it. None of them succeed in starting any new fires. It can now be seen that there are approximately three groups of seven dugout canoes each coming from the Hool River, upriver on the Javan, and downriver on the Javan, though only the first three canoes of each group are firing the flaming arrows. Each canoe has a paddler, an archer, and a warrior with a fire pot for lighting the arrows. The macabre white war paint on the warriors gives them a skeletal appearance in the deepening dusk. Presently, Sgt. Apone, Noch, and Hex are firing from the bow at the canoes coming upriver, at the stern, the rest of the squad fire at the two groups of canoes coming downriver.

Indranil climbs to the roof of the deckhouse for better range and angle and starts firing forward with his bow with careful aimed shots.

Lorindel joins Indranil but takes aim at the targets off the stern that are moving with the flow of the river.

Rain very quickly joins Apone, Noch and Hex on the bow to quickly dispatch those canoes in front of the boat. She ignores Fingol’s orders however, and targets the warrior’s with the fire pots, thinking that if they are hit they will drop the fire pots and severely disrupt the canoe. Her bow, however, becomes unstrung. Rain cries, “Crap!” then quickly begins restringing her bow.

Fingol, rushing to the bow to take a shot, actually ignores his own order and aims at one of the enemy archers instead and with his first shot takes down the one in the third boat who falls overboard.

Aramek immediately rushes to the bow and yells to no one in particular, “I’ll use my crossbow till they’re in range of my missiles.” Then to Sgt. Apone he yells, ”Should I concentrate on the paddlers or archers?”

Sgt. Apone replies, “Sir Fingol said the paddlers.”

Aramek, beside Fingol, hits the paddler of the same boat with his crossbow, but he continues to row with the bolt sticking in his leather armor.

Indranil and Lorindel miss their shots. Rain’s bow again comes unstrung.

Ragnbjorn shouts out, “Keep firing lads! I’ll be in the deckhouse. I have to write a letter.”

Seeing that Gar continues to wash down the Javan Queen with his storm blasts, the Amedi cover their firepots but continue to fire upon the ship with regular arrows. Hex and Ferro are both struck and collapse to the deck. Rain restrings her bow as everyone else continues to return fire, though there are few hits.

“Forgive the confusion.” Fingol shrugs, “The canoes in the stern must pursue us so losing their paddlers would put them out of the fight. We are charging down on these canoes before us, so the archers would have to be taken out. Let’s get back to taking out the paddlers so they won’t be able to maneuver and board.”

Rain yells out while stringing the bow, now thoroughly pissed at her crappy equipment, “What the Hell is Ragnbjorn doing?”

Gar rushes over to the side of the two downed guardsman and begins praying for Obad-Hai to lend his power to stabilize them, starting with Hex. A cry is heard from the stern as Frost is wounded by an arrow. Noch hits again and the archer in the second canoe coming at them from the east falls. Aramek takes out the paddler of the first canoe with his crossbow.

Ragnbjorn opens the shutters on the port side of the deckhouse and whistles. A sparrow hawk swoops down from one of the nearby cypresses and perches on his outstretched left arm and snaps up a small piece of salted fish Ragnbjorn holds out to it with his right. He then takes the bird back inside and begins attaching the message he wrote to its leg and thereupon sends it off downriver.

The Javan Queen and the seven canoes heading upriver towards them are now less than 200’ away from each other. Arrows continue to fly thick and fast between the keelboat and its pursuers and interceptors. Ragnbjorn finally takes up his bow and from the stern he fires off a shot that wounds the Amedi paddling one of the canoes pursuing them. Gar checks on Ferro and sees that his bleeding was not as bad as he feared, but then he hears cries of, “Man down!” from the stern as Dale falls to an arrow. Aramek takes an arrow in the left hand that pierces his mage armor with a flare of bluish light. Rain’s shot drops the wounded paddler of the second canoe coming towards them. Indranil also gets a hit and wounds the Amedi paddling the third boat coming towards them from the east, though he keeps his grip on his paddle.

It looks as though the other canoes that have been holding back are beginning to move up to the ones that have been firing. At any moment their archers will begin loosing arrows at the Javan Queen as well. Then something even more dire is seen. Heading towards each group of canoes from the riverbanks are 40’ long war canoes manned by a dozen or more Amedi warriors, paddling together in unison. They will quickly catch up to the smaller canoes so that each group will have a war canoe to back it up and help in any boarding action. All seems lost as the Amedi arrows continue to slam into the ship from all sides. Sgt. Apone is hit, and Kash falls with an arrow in his chest.

Indranil cries, “By the Light. For Honor! Keep heart my friends! Fight on!” as he continues to fire carefully aimed shots at the forward canoes.

Indranil yells over his shoulder to the captain, “Captain, have your rowers make battle speed now and aim for the center canoe, we must get away from those chasing us or we are doomed! Forward by the gods! Pull for your lives every man jack of you. We are leaving!”

Indranil then notices that Uglash is continuing to have trouble with the ballista and has still not gotten a shot off yet and moves over to him to help, but sees that he has finally gotten around to loading the ballista. He can’t help but think to himself, This Uglash is retarded and not helping – damn half-bred beast.

Then several things happen that brings hope to all aboard the Javan Queen. Captain Olnut had been directing his crew to unfurl the sails, and it now catches the strong western winds and leaps ahead. The Captain begins tacking to the southeast in an attempt to slip past the Amedi canoes. Uglash finally fires the ballista and its huge bolt takes down the Amedi paddling the second of the seven canoes trying to intercept them. Sgt. Apone, cursing the Amedi whose arrow is sticking in his thigh, returns fire and hits the Amedi archer on the first of the seven intercepting canoes. Noch’s arrow follows right after and finishes the job. Fingol also gets a killing strike on the Amedi paddling the third intercepting canoe. The guardsmen on the stern continue to return fire, and even score a few hits themselves, though it does not deter their pursuers. On the bow, Gar intones the sacred “Om” and calls upon the life giving forces of Obad-Hai, sending out a wave of healing energy that revives Hex and Ferro and both pushes out the arrows and closes the wounds received by Aramek and Sgt. Apone.

Captain Olnut calls out, “It looks like we might be able to weather this storm after all if those savages don’t pick us all off before we can get by them! You had all better take cover below deck!”

Suddenly, to the surprise and dismay of the skull faced Amedi warriors, many of the canoes behind the Javan Queen begin tipping over. The warriors are dumped overboard and begin flailing about in the water. The four canoes and the war canoe on an intercept course with the Javan Queen that had not yet begun firing arrows are also capsized. Of the first three interceptors, two are dead in the water, and those remaining alive on them try desperately to retrieve their paddles. The third paddles over to help the other two. The pursuing canoes stop and turn around to help their friends. As the crew of the Javan Queen watch, the Amedi flailing around in the water are suddenly dragged under screaming, one by one. Then the remaining canoes start tipping over as well. It is not long before the Javan Queen is alone – sailing downriver past the drifting hulls of the now empty canoes and a river that now runs red in the setting sunlight.

Freeday Evening, Fireseek 7, 591 Common Year

Due to the delay caused by the rain and wind that morning, it is dusk before the Javan Queen arrives at the juncture of the Hool and Javan rivers, where the small stockade enclosed trading post called Cypress Hill is located, or rather, where it should be located. Moss enshrouded cypresses and cypress knees cover the banks of the river, except for a small clearing where the blackened ruins of a dock and a ferryboat stick up out of the sluggish waters. On the rise above the dock nothing remains of the stockade but ashes and charcoal drifting in the wind.

Captain Olnut gazes out upon the devastation from his place at the wheel atop the deckhouse and sighs heavily. “I had friends who lived there.” He spits over the side and says stoically, “No more I reckon.” He looks to Ragnbjorn, “What now, Sir Ragnbjorn?”

Ragnbjorn, standing next to Captain Olnut, takes out his spyglass and scans the shore. “Yes, there are bodies there. Looks like some broken spears and axes, lots of arrows too. These aren’t lizardfolk make however. Looks like the Amedi struck here. Hmm, someone’s out there, hiding in those reeds. Human, I’m pretty sure, but I can’t see if it’s an Amedi or a survivor from the trading post.”

Ragnbjorn turns to Fingol and the Marinus brothers with a grim smile, “Well, you know what they say: when the shit goes down, you better be ready.”

Lorindel readies his bow. “I await your orders sir.”

Rain is up on deck, bow with arrow nocked loosely held in her left hand down at her side. Rain murmurs, “I’m ready.”

Fingol voices his grim assessment, “Well, we aren’t likely to land with surprise, if we tried moving upstream they would just follow us. If there is only one person visible it would be reasonable to think that the person is a survivor. I just don’t like the fallout of a bad guess. Whatever we do, the crew should be ready with that ballista, and every available archer should be ready as well.”

Gar puts on his chain mail and says, “Aye, aye, sir,” as he pulls out his light crossbow and puts a bolt in it.

Aramek has, by this time put his clothes back on and is coming up by Rain, Snoop safely in his pocket and the invocation for his Mage Armor ready on his lips. Aramek says to Rain, “Can you see anything? It looks as if the entire post is a complete loss.”

Rain responds, “No, not yet” and tries again to make out what Ragnbjorn is seeing.

Ragnbjorn says to Captain Olnut, “Okay, bring us in, and you may want to have that ballista manned and ready.”

Captain Olnut nods, “Aye, aye, sir. Uglash! Get the ballista armed and ready. The rest of you, take us in!” The rowers then begin taking the Javan Queen to the north bank of the river by the ruined dock.

Ragnbjorn orders them to split up into three groups. “Sir Indranil and Sir Lorindel, you see that bed of reeds over there just west of the docks? I want you to take some of Sgt. Apone’s men with you and see if you can find out whose hiding out there. Father Gar, why don’t you go with them? If it’s a survivor out there they may need your healing. Sgt. Apone, lets you and I take a couple other men from your squad and we’ll look over the ruins. Fingol, take four others and scout east of the docks. Sgt. Apone, assign three of your men to stay behind. We’ll want someone on the bow, someone on the stern, and someone up on the deckhouse. There’s about an hour of daylight left to us, so let’s do this quick. If we need to I have my everburning torch, and Sir Lorindel can use his.”

Sgt. Apone quickly assigns Dale, Kash, and Ferro to stay behind on the boat. Rain and Hex are assigned to help the Marinus brothers. Vaskez and Drake are assigned to go with Ragnbjorn and himself. Aramek, Noch, Frost, and Hadsyn are assigned to accompany Fingol.

Rain says quietly to Aramek, “Be safe, and stay close to Noch”, she then heads over to Indranil and Lorindel and says to them, “Got yer back”. Rain still has her bow strung and ready.

The Javan Queen is rowed up near to the ruins of the docks and the three teams jump down into the muddy waters and wade ashore.

Indranil carefully checks over his party to make sure they are all properly armed and armored. ”Spread out people and stay frosty,”

As Gar gets out of the water, he stays low and says a little prayer of resistance.

Aramek hops off the boat in the wake of Sir Fingol and quietly intones, “Vestighu sorch-kirase” as a subtle glow surrounds him.

As soon as they hit the beach, Fingol arrays his men in a wedge with Noch in the front leading by about 10′, then Aramek and himself, followed by Frost and Hadsyn about 10′ behind. As they’re getting arranged, Fingol tells them, “No heroics.”

Indranil aligns his squad in line abreast with 10 foot spacing in between each one saying, “Stay together and aligned on me. Keep your eyes and ears open. Forward!” Lorindel is on the furthest left, and then Gar is to his right, Indranil in the center, Rain to his right, and Hex on the far right.

As Gar follows orders, he walks past Rain and touches her shoulder, “May Obad-Hai bless you and give you resistance from harm.” Then he moves to position ten feet on the other side of Indranil, gently touching his shoulder as he passes by him.

Rain says, “Thanks, Gar.”

As Indranil’s team approaches the reeds a young girl, maybe no more than 15 years old stands up from among them and moves slowly towards them. She is skinny with dark eyes, filthy black hair, and covered in muddy rags and ashes. In Keolandish she says, “Milords, help, milords!”

As the girl makes her way toward the group Rain looks her over quickly looking for anything out of place then turns her attention back to scanning all around them as others deal with the girl. 

Lorindel does the same. His bow is readied to react at the first sign of threat.

Gar waves at the girl and replies, “Hello! Are you okay? We won’t hurt you….”

She says, “Milords, our homes were attacked two days ago. I can’t find my parents and all my friends are dead!” She sobs, “I have nowhere to turn. Will you not help me?” She does not appear to be armed except for a fillet knife stuck in her belt.

“Of course, young lady, we’ll help you. Would you like some fresh water?” Gar taps his water skin, “Are you hurt?”

“Thank you, milord. You are very kind. I am not hurt, but haven’t eaten these past two days. That’s when our homes were attacked. I can’t find my parents and all my friends are dead!” She sobs again and after a moment continues, “I couldn’t risk looking for food because I didn’t know if the raiders were still about. Could you spare a morsel?”

In a quiet calm but firm voice, so as not to scare the young girl, Indranil says, “Everyone hold position. Father Gar, please ask her to stand still for a moment and ask her if she knows of anyone else nearby.”

Turning to his left and right Indranil then says, “Sir Lorindel, Guardsmen Rain and Hex, do you see anything or anyone from where you are?”

Before Gar can say anything further to her, the girl looks to Indranil and asks him, “Do you know if the raiders are yet in the area? Did any others survive the attacks?” She starts choking on her sobs as she remembers the slaughter, but still trying to speak, “They’re all dead, aren’t they? Oh, what am I to do? I can’t stay here alone!” She then makes a visible effort to pull herself together, obviously trying to show that she’s brave.

Indranil says, “Father Gar please assure her we are here to help and can give her shelter and food. Ask her to lay down her knife and walk slowly over towards you. Okay this is the time of most risk for an ambush, everyone be vigilant and ready, as the girl moves towards us. Sir Lorindel and Rain please be prepared to fire if you see any movement in the reeds.”

“We are here to help you with food and shelter, young miss,” says Gar, “please lay down your knife and walk over here slowly, please.” Gar waves her over with a genuine smile on his face.

She does as she is asked, laying the knife on the ground, and comes over slowly towards Gar.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” and to his comrades Gar adds, “Did anyone bring some rations with you?”

Hex says, “All the food is with our gear on the boat.”

Indranil says, “Let’s send her back to the boat for her safety where she can get
warm dry clothes and some food. Then we can continue searching the area. Is everyone okay with that?”

“Guardsman Rain, would you please discretely check her for any hidden weapons and then you and Hex escort her to the bank and wait for the boat crew to come and collect her? We will wait here for you to return and then continue our sweep. The rest of us hold position and stay alert.”

Indranil then calls out loudly, “Ahoy! Javan Queen!  Ahoy! Captain! Please send someone over to collect a young girl survivor we found.”

Rain approaches the girl saying, “Hi, I’m Rain. What’s your name?”

“My name is Adelina, milady, but everyone just calls me Newt.”

Rain smiles, and says, “I just need to check you really quickly and then we’ll head over to the boat and get you some food.” Rain looks her over, finds nothing, and gives Indranil the all-clear signal. Then she and Hex begin walking towards the riverbank nearest to the boat.

After Rain and Hex take the girl away, Gar says, “Sir Indranil, while we are waiting, I would like to walk into the reeds where the girl was hiding, if you don’t mind?”

“Father Gar, nay. We will all go together when we can provide support and cover for each other. It is too dangerous to search by yourself. Please continue to wait and be vigilant. It won’t be long.”

At just that moment, Captain Olnut calls out to shore, “Sir Ragnbjorn! We’ve got company!” Just upriver from Cypress Hill the joining of the two rivers forms a Y. The Hool River flows in from the southwest, and the Javan River flows into the juncture from the northwest. The Javan River then continues to flow down to the Azure Sea eastwards, the direction that the Javan Queen traveled from Westkeep. Silhouetted against the setting sun and coming downstream from the Hool and the Javan rivers a fleet of canoes can be seen, while back eastwards on the Javan River another fleet of canoes makes its way upriver towards the junction. The three fleets are each about 120 yards away, but already flaming arrows begin streaking towards the Javan Queen as they close the distance.

At the same time, Sir Ragnbjorn, followed by Sgt. Apone, Vaskez, and Drake, come jogging back from the ruined trading post followed by the hum of arrows that can be heard as they land all around the clearing, though not quite yet reaching the riverbank. “That’s funny,” says Ragnbjorn. “We’ve got company over this way as well. Fingol, Sir Indranil, get everyone to the boat!” He and the others with him crouch down and fire their arrows back into the trees on the other side of the clearing.

Fingol shouts out the order, “To the ship, double time… move, move.”

“To the ship!” shouts Indranil. With that he sheaths his sword, draws his bow and starts firing as he runs back towards the riverbank.

At Fingol’s shout, Aramek’s first thought as he turns to begin running, is to look for Rain. His training takes over however when Snoop gives him a ‘get your ass moving’ nip from his safe haven in Aramek’s pocket. He begins running while taking in the surroundings as the fire arrows begin to rain down, a magic missile invocation ready to go.

Rain hurries Newt aboard and says, “Newt, get into the deck house and stay out of the way.”

Newt looks around the deckhouse and sees a dozen longspears and two masterwork guisarmes. She figures that if the keelboat is boarded she could perhaps use one of the spears. She also looks for oil, but doesn’t see any because the only light in the deckhouse comes from an everburning torch. Cautiously she peeks out from the shutters to watch the carnage that unfolds.

Xalakae aka Adelina aka Newt, A Few Days Before Up To Present

The last time Xalakae saw hiers parents, Leoniax and Phorissital, they were wearing the faces of the savage killers. They were no longer Ulmar and Saeva, the gentle fisherman and fishwife whose faces they wore for those who were not of the greater family of the Double Goers. That night they had become the savages, blending into the skull painted howling horde that burst out of the rank darkness that hemmed in the small trading post at the juncture of the Javan and Hool rivers. S/he had looked out from under the overturned boat in the creek they had thrust hierm in and saw them looking back at hierm with the skull painted faces they had taken on, backlit by the burning stockade. Xalakae covered hiers ears to shut out the screams of the ravaged and dying to clear hiers mind for hiers parent’s thoughts.

We will come back for you Newt, hiers womb-parent thought to hierm, using the nickname s/he used for Xalakae. These ones are watching us now, so we must go with them. Hide, and remember all that we taught you. Keep the amulet safe. It will hide your heart from the evil ones. Xalakae clutched at the amulet hiers womb-parent, Phorissital, had hung around hiers neck. The amulet was bronze and quite appropriately blank. When shiny it was a mirror, reflecting anything it looked upon.

We must go Xalakae, thought hiers fertilizing-parent to hierm with urgency. These ones are heading back to their boat and we must go with them or they will know something is not right. Stay safe, and remember our love for you. We will come back as soon as we can get away from them. They are too close now. Hiers parents were no longer looking at hierm, they were just thinking to hierm.

All too soon they moved away. S/he could hear the boats moving away from the shore. The skull faced savages continued to whoop and howl with murderous glee.

The last thought from hiers parents had been, If we do not return, find the cities of men. You must become the girl whose name and form you created from the thoughts and forms of those you saw from afar. Be Adelina. Survive. Send out your thoughts and open your mind to the signals of our kind. There are other Double Goers. Find them, learn from them, but until then, become Adelina and hide among the cities of men. The thoughts receded as the boats turned the bend of the river and were lost into the dark night.

Xalakae was left under the rotting boat, warmed by the blazing fire of what was once the small stockade and trading post called Cypress Hill. In the morning s/he dared to crawl out to sift through the ashes of the largest settlement s/he had ever been permitted to see. Besides the flaying knife s/he started with and hiers one gold eagle, s/he soon found a hand axe left behind in some poor wretch’s skull, and a long spear. Of course there was also the amulet. The amulet that would hide the compassionate and gentle heart s/he had grown up with, lest those lost to darkness seek hierm out as well.

Xalakae’s parents were not like some of the other members of the greater family of Double Goers, who felt no compunctions against killing a being and taking their place, stealing their face, their thoughts, and their relationships. Rather, Xalakae had been taught to only watch and model hiermself upon others, but never to cause harm or malicious trouble. While the talents of the Double Goers could be used for trickery and deception, Xalakae’s parents had chosen to use theirs as a way of observing unnoticed without interfering in order to learn with greater and greater appreciation the ways of those among whom the Double Goers hid throughout lifetimes of becoming.

Xalakae stood among the ruins. There was no one left. The night had passed and still no sign or thought from hiers parents. There were no thoughts from anyone, nor any sound. All s/he could do was hope and continue to hide when hostile thoughts encroached. The hostile thoughts preceded the return of the Amedi savages painted like skeletons who called themselves Deathwalkers. They worshipped some god named Thanatos, whom s/he had never heard of. They were hunting the lizardfolk, and waiting to ambush any ships or boats traveling up or down the river.

Now Xalakae knew that others might come, others like the good and gentle people whose bones now lay scattered among the charred remains of Cypress Hill. There is another town s/he learned from their thoughts further downriver named Westkeep. Perhaps people will come from there, enough people to drive away the Deathwalkers and take hierm to safety. So for now s/he must become Adelina, sometimes called Newt. It was less dangerous that way. If a boat or ship came from Westkeep, they might not wish to rescue Xalakae the Double Goer, but the girl Adelina could hope that they might take ‘her’ to safety. So she continued to stand among the moss hung cypresses, waiting for friendly thoughts to come from around the bend in the river.

On Fireseek the 7^th, the second day after the raid, the morning was rainy and the whole day has been overcast and windy. Now, as the sun begins to set, Adelina sees a boat coming up the river. As it gets closer, she sees that it is a keelboat. About 70′ long and 20′ wide, with a deckhouse in the center, atop of which is the boat’s wheel and its sail. The sail is furled as it is rowed by perhaps eight oarsmen into the wind that is blowing from the west. They are still too far away to see what they look like. There are a number of other people on board as well. There are at least two above the deckhouse, one steering, and one seems to be scanning the shore with a spyglass, including the reedy area in which Adelina is hiding. His scan is slow and he didn’t seem to stop when he passed over the reeds, but she can’t be sure. As of now, all the figures are silhouettes against the setting sun.

The keelboat moves in closer, right up to the ruins of the dock. She sees that the rowers are eight strong looking Olman tribesmen, the slaves of the Sea Princes and then later the conquering Scarlet Brotherhood. They are now freemen in the Hool Marshes Protectorate of the Kingdom of Keoland. She also makes out the captain at the wheel on top of the deckhouse. He is wearing worn, rather befouled white clothes and a ratty straw hat. He has a long face, dark hair and eyes, and a couple days growth of beard. His upper lip bears the scar of an old wound. Just fore of the mast the boat has what looks to be a giant crossbow on a swivel mount. It is manned by what appears to be another Olman, though perhaps a head taller. As the boat gets closer, it can be seen that there is a reddish glint in his eyes, and his ears have the hint of the lupine in their shape, and his lower canines are far more prominent than they should be. She sees that the name of the boat is the Javan Queen.

After the boat is anchored, three bowmen in leather armor wearing red tabards bearing the lion rampant of the Crown of Keoland take up stations at the bow, the stern, and atop the deckhouse. They have longbows and shortswords at their sides. Then more bowmen, perhaps a dozen, jump down into the muddy waters and head for shore. There they split up and begin combing through the ruins.

One group heads over to the downriver side of the shore, east away from the dock. They are led by a plain looking man of average height, but rather thin. There is little about him that is remarkable, neither displeasing nor notable. His olive complexion and dark brown hair and eyes mark him as a descendant of the Oeridians. He is constantly looking around, scanning his surrounding, even as he speaks to the others. He does not wear the red tabard. His clothing, boots, and tack are permanently stained from wear and mud even when cleaned, as they are now, but in good repair. Tucked into his belt is a hammer that looks more mud stained than bloodstained. His longsword, shortsword, and buckler look new and unblemished. Slung on his back is a longbow. With him are four others in the red tabards. One of them, however, is not armed and armored like the others, though a subtle shimmering in the air seems to envelop him. He carries a light crossbow at the ready and a dagger is in his belt. His light brown hair is cut so that his slightly tapered ears are noticeable, and his eyes are green. Otherwise he seems human enough. On his shoulder perches a ferret of a honey brown color with dark patches around his eyes, like a raccoon, and similar dark fur on his tail, front and back paws. The other three are men with blond or light brown hair.

A tall, heavyset man with thick dark hair and a full beard, both now showing some grey, leads the middle group. He wears a camouflage cloak, and a dark tunic. He also carries a wooden shield, longsword, dagger, morningstar, and a composite bow that all seem to be of very high quality. With him are three of the bowmen in red tabards, one is blue eyed blond and the other is dark skinned, with curly black hair, who seems older than the others though not as old as the leader of the group. Adelina notes that the third is a dark tan woman with curly dark brown hair, light brown eyes, with tattoos on her arms. This group heads towards the ruins of the trading post and begins looking around.

The last group heads along the westward side of the docks, in fact towards the reed bed where Adelina is hiding. They will soon be within range for her to read their thoughts. Two of this group have fair complexions, with slightly tapered ears, and raven black hair cropped short in a military manner. The taller and heavier of them has startling elvish emerald eyes, while the shorter and slighter has eyes so dark as to almost be black. Both are wearing traveler’s clothes. The shorter carries a compound shortbow, and from his belt hangs a shortsword, a throwing axe, and a dagger. The taller has a longbow slung on his back but carries a longsword and a buckler, and from his belt hangs a dagger and morningstar. The third member of the group has a deep dark brown complexion, dark eyes, and black wavy hair (shaved in a bowl cut) beneath a steel cap. He is likely a member of the Flan tribes. His russet tunic and leggings, the hornwood quarterstaff he bears, and the carven Green Man pendant around his neck all mark him as a devotee of Obad-Hai, the god of untrammeled nature. He seems to be muttering and touching everyone around him in blessing. With them are two other bowmen wearing the red tabards, one of them is a blonde blue eyed woman, and the other a red haired man with green eyes. 

She thought to herself as she watched the troops disembark that two days had seemed so long while she waited for her parents. Now she saw that she had squandered her time. She had hoped her parents would return as they’d said, but it was clear that she would have to make another plan – or keep waiting and starve.

Now, with a better look at the folk from the keel boat, Newt felt certain that these were not the same people that slaughtered her neighbors. Instead of risking exposure of her ability to read thoughts, she resolved to approach the group closest to her.

Thinking quickly, she cobbles together a plan. She will have to persuade them to take her to a large city. Surely there she can find her own kind. To gain the aid of these, she could cook, clean, mend clothes – all the things people hated to do, and she would do them cheerfully and better than any slave. She’d keep up that act as long as necessary. When they became accustomed to having her around, she would press them to teach her – anything. Any tricks, magic, or even fighting that they’d help her with would be useful. Her mind was full of possibilities for the future, and how to convince these others to help her, but most of that would have to wait.

Taking a few quick moments to compose her thoughts, Newt decides to focus on the man giving the blessing from Obad-Hai and try to appeal to him. A cleric of nature seemed more likely to help others (perhaps) than the more warrior-like among them. Ready to drop into the water and hide in the reeds should they shoot at her, she stands.

Dropping her axe and spear in the reeds to appear less threatening, she calls out, “Milord, help, milords!” 

Now they know she is here. She moves slowly to the edge of the reeds, making no attempt to be sneaky and hoping they won’t shoot her out of hand.

Earthday, Fireseek 6, 591 Common Year

Gar wakes up before dawn, refreshed after a nice long night of being rocked by the boat like a baby. He heads up to the deck to meditate at the bow of the boat as the sky is just beginning to change colors.

Pulling his cape around his shoulders to keep warm, Gar follows his breath for a few minutes to center his mind and then he sits back to enjoy the light show of the morning dawn. It’s foggy and cold, but the colors still change from black to blue to shades of pink. The morning sun light dances like fire on the river as the fog slowly begins to pull back. Water blurs the line between earth and air with a dripping wet rag of fog that embraces all in an obscuring mist.

As Gar continues to watch the fog recede, now imbued with the miraculous powers of the Shalm, the god Obad-Hai, he hears something swimming up to the boat. Looking down he sees what appears to be a 20’ long serpent with reticulated emerald green patterns running the length of its body gliding through the dark waters. Then it stops by the bow and lifts its head out of the water. There is an uncanny beauty to its faintly human face, and its eyes seem to glow and draw Gar into their depths. His voice, for it seems to be male, is mellow and inviting, “It’s a nice morning for a swim don’t you think? Why don’t you come in and join me?”

Gar nods, thinking to himself, Yes, that would be pleasant. He gets up and prepares to dive in but then stops himself, What am I doing?! Gar finds his mind suddenly free of whatever compulsion the creature had put on him. But the creature itself is still there, its head swaying out of the water on a level with Gar, smiling expectantly. 

Gar gasps and steps back while his hand instinctually goes to his Green Man. “Well, hello there! Who are you?” Gar wonders if he can learn anything from him but is preparing to cough up his biggest blast of fire yet – just in case.

The creature rears its head up over the bow and says, “Oh you’re no fun. You really should come in. The water’s nice this morning. I am Lord Heslex, and this is my home you travel upon. Tell me, you don’t look like merchants. What is your name and what is your errand?”

“Greetings, Lord Heslex! You are a very handsome creature. I am Gar Dragonsbreath and I am on a mission sent by the Great Druidess to help bring balance and harmony to the Hool Marshes. Currently we seek the lizardfolk to help ease tensions between them and the humans over fishing rights. How are the fish in your river? Do you have enough to eat, milord?”

Indranil, startled to see Gar speaking to this river serpent, quietly draws his bow, nocks an arrow and takes aim. “Father Gar please step back and be careful. I do not like how this being approached us so stealthily before announcing itself, nor its seductive voice calling for you to join it in the water.”

Gar moves back another couple steps holding up his left hand, “Please don’t fire yet, Sir Indranil,” even as his right still touches his holy symbol of Obad-Hai, flaming breath ready. “It does sound fun,” responds Gar but still looking at Lord Heslex, “and I have not ruled it out quite yet, depending upon Lord Heslex’s response of course.”

“Please Father Gar, this is no time for your jokes,” Indranil says. “You are too important to this mission to take risks.”

Gar turns back to the serpent, “Lord Heslex, this is Sir Indranil, my protector. He asks a good question, milord, what are your intentions? Do you want to eat me for breakfast?”

“Sir Indranil, pleased to meet you,” says Heslex turning his gaze upon Indranil. “You are a loyal friend, but I think you can put that bow away. We are all friends here.”

Indranil, forewarned by Gar’s previous reaction, shifts his gaze from the serpent’s hypnotic eyes to its body. He easily resists the lull of Heslex’s voice. Behind him, he hears Ragnbjorn on the deckhouse warning the others to stay back.

“I am afraid I am more trusting than my good friend here, milord,” says Gar, “and quite frankly I feel a little safer with him at the ready, but I am inclined to trust you,” Gar let’s go of his amulet, “and call you friend. I am still curious milord if the river offers you enough bounty to live and thrive?”

Heslex smiles grandly and pulls his head back, “How remarkable, no human in these parts has been so courteous to me in a very long time.” He dips his head in respect to Gar. “I ask your pardon for trying to enthrall you,” he looks to Indranil, “And I ask your pardon as well. Most humans would have shot first and not even bothered to ask questions. So I thought it best to be cautious myself, at the risk of being discourteous. I am of the Water Naga, and we have been doing well enough, though I must tell you that we have found more nets and traps than usual this year, and this is more than a nuisance to us and others. You say you are seeking the lizardfolk to ease tensions, but you seem to be a military expedition judging from what I have seen. Is there to be more war and fighting upon the river?” He asks this with a note of sadness.

Indranil lowers his bow, letting its draw ease to slack, but keeps the arrow nocked with the bow hanging low from his waist and says, “Great dragon you honor us!”

Heslex chortles and says, “Oh I am not one of the mighty ones, though I know sometimes we nagas are called dragons. I thank you for your compliment however.”

Gar says, “Thank you, milord Heslex. I met a naga king’s daughter recently, a Lady Sauraa and I find you both quite charming. But yes, unfortunately you know how humans are, armed for war to bring about peace. We hope for peaceful passage but we are prepared for the worst.”

“Oh really!” replies Heslex in surprise.

Ragnbjorn clears his throat quite loudly from the deckhouse, “Ahem! Yes, Lady Sauraa, the daughter of King Sagara of the Guardian Nagas has been around from time to time so we are acquainted with her. Her business is of course her own, and not ours.”

“Oh indeed. Indeed.” says Heslex. He rolls his eyes and says, “Far be it from me to involve myself in the affairs of the high and mighty Guardian Naga.” He turns back to Gar and gazes at his Green Man pendant, “But you, I see, are a devotee of the Shalm, are you not? If you are, have you come to see the balance restored, even for the lizardfolk? Or have you been talked into joining their crusade to impose order and righteousness across the land, even here amid the bogs and quagmires of the Hool Marsh?”

“Yes, I seek balance for all involved, milord,” responds Gar, “especially the lizardfolk. My views have already gotten me into hot water with my comrade here, and quite frankly, I’d like to feed you a fisherman or two but… the others would not like that, I fear.”

Heslex laughs upon hearing that. “Well, any friend of the Shalm, Obad-Hai, is a friend of mine. I know what you mean about the fishermen, but they are not the only ones who think only of themselves and not of the whole. Well, good luck to you Father Gar. I think you will need it. First of all because if you don’t hurry, you may find that there are no lizardfolk left to negotiate with. Secondly, because you will have a much easier time finding Amedi warriors in the marshes, if they don’t find you first. Thirdly, those Amedi have changed for the worse, though I would scarcely have thought that possible even a few months ago. They follow some human death cult now, as they seem to be devoted to a once forgotten god named Thanatos. At least that is the name they cried out before I made a light snack out of a few of them.” Laughing uproariously, Heslex dives back into the depths of the river and disappears.

Gar looks wide eyed at  Indranil and Ragnbjorn and then he bursts out laughing too. “Well that’s a few less Amedi to worry about!”

Indranil says, “Amedi warriors on the increase and now following a Thanatos death cult? It certainly explains what we saw coming in. All this evil surrounding us – they cannot all be unrelated. I think this expedition will be difficult.”

“Yes, and he said we need to make haste if we want to find the lizardfolk,” adds Gar. “It will be very difficult to bring balance back to such disharmony.”

As the others wake up around dawn and Captain Olnut and Uglash organize their crew, the other members of the morning watch discuss what they just witnessed as they head down into the hold to get their morning rations.

Frost says, “What kind of man is he, talking to dragons like that?”

“It wasn’t a dragon,” says Ferro, “that was some kind of sea serpent!”

“A sea serpent?!” exclaims Dale. “This is a river! That was no sea serpent. And since when do sea serpents stop to talk anyway?”

“Look, I don’t know what that was,” says Frost, “but I’m keeping my distance from Gar. He has some strange friends.”

“You’ve got that right,” broods Dale.

Fingol clears his throat testily and then heads topside.

On hearing the crew talking about Gar, Aramek says to Rain, “I’m going up top. I have to hear from Gar what just happened. You want to come up with me?”

Rain says, “Sure” and shakes her head in amusement, then heads topside with Aramek to talk with Gar.

Ragnbjorn, seeing Fingol, Rain, and Aramek coming up on deck waves them over to the bow. He then sends a passing member of the watch down to get Sgt. Apone and Lorindel.  “Gather round everyone,” says Ragnbjorn. “I think you all need to hear this. Gar, go ahead and tell them.”

Gar begins, “This morning after my meditation, the Lord of the River Javan, a water naga named Lord Heslex, paid us a visit. I rather suspect I looked like a tasty morsel for breakfast, but he was a nice guy and rather surprised that I wasn’t afraid of him, even after he tried to enthrall me into swimming with him. I think we ended as friends. Well, if by ‘friend’ one means that we lowered our weapons and shared information before he dived back back into the depths of the river.” Gar then relates what Lord Heslex told him.

“Aye, Father Gar has it right,” says Indranil when Gar finishes. “The situation started off with a scare though and I was greatly worried for Father Gar. Lord Heslex approached us stealthily, reared up over the gunwales above Father Gar, and spoke to enthrall him. Father Gar was in great danger and there would have been little we could have done to save him had Lord Heslex attacked. It was a narrow thing indeed. While Sir Ragnbjorn and I had Lord Heslex triangulated with our bows and might have killed him, we would not have been able to save Father Gar as he was so close. Father Gar managed to maintain his composure and presence of mind and deescalated the situation finding common ground with Lord Heslex that prevented bloodshed and obtained us excellent insight into the situation in the Hool that will greatly aid our expedition.”

Indranil, then bows to Gar, “Father Gar, my compliments to you.”

“Thank you, Sir Indranil, for trusting that I could romance the snake,” bows Gar in return, “and I may still take Lord Heslex up on his offer to go for a swim. I find the thought… titillating, to say the least.” Gar blushes slightly and smiles warmly.

Ragnbjorn frowns and says, “Father Gar, you might want to rethink that. I believe Lord Heslex finds you delectable in a way that you might not enjoy.”

Fingol muses silently, Hopefully, Lord Heslex doesn’t demand his breakfast be too straight.

Rain leans over to Aramek, “Soooo glad we didn’t make this trip on our own.”

Then to Fingol Rain asks, “So… how does this change our plans?”

Fingol muses, “Father Gar is a surprising fellow. I suppose his odd approach to life is why he was chosen for this diplomatic mission. But was the threat to the lizardfolk put plainly? That’s to say, do we know what is going to attack them, or are we left to infer that it is the Amedi warriors?”

“My guess would be the Amedi warriors and their death cult,” says Ragnbjorn. “But you are right, he did not say that. It was only inferred.”

“And we have yet, five days of travel as we’ve laid the trek out.” Fingol states, ”Can we cut that time down at all? And do we take the fishing delegation with us, or leave them somewhere relatively safe?”

Indranil says, “I am inclined to send a messenger pigeon with a full report to the Prince and request reinforcements of paladins and priests. I think we might be heading into a full-scale battle. Sir Ragnbjorn, what do you think?”

Gar wags his finger, “Gentlemen, more warriors are not necessary to restore balance to the marsh. Besides, we can move faster with less people. Sir Fingol, we can always offer the fishermen to appease any marsh monsters. They’ll be safe with us until then,” Gar smiles widely, “and so each will uphold the balance of nature in their own way.”

Rangbjorn responds, “Well, unfortunately we do not have any messenger pigeons on board. However, I believe there should be some at the trading post. We should reach it by tomorrow afternoon. Unfortunately we can’t get there any faster. We could turn back to Westkeep, but I think time is of the essence. We should get to the trading post, and then those of us who are stealthy and good at tracking should head out and see if we can find the lizardfolk. That would be the Marinus brothers, Fingol, and I. We’d need to scout out the area anyway before we call in troops. Also, I think it will be some time before the Prince can spare any paladins or clerics outside Westkeep; and again, we need to find those lizardfolk before they are all driven off or killed if we want to head off the prophecy of the Great Druidess.”

Indranil says, ”Father Gar, while your diplomatic skills are exceptional, I respectfully ask you to defer to those of us with military training. If the Hool is full of Amedi war parties under the spell of Thanatos, as Lord Heslex states, then our meager diplomatic expedition will be quickly overcome. You were not there when attacked by the ghouls. Trust me when I say they were fearsome and ungodly strong. Three of them almost overcame Sir, Ragnbjorn, Sir Lorindel, and I.”

Gar shrugs, “It sounds like you needed a cleric out there; good thing I am here to help you next time to deal with those pesky undead. Certainly, military strategy is up to Sir Ragnbjorn and the rangers, but don’t expect me to be silent when I don’t like your ideas, my friend.” Gar smirks at Sir Indranil. “It works both ways, you know.”

Fingol takes a breath, and then stifles the thought of getting in the middle of this little row.

Ragnbjorn says, “Yes, a cleric would have been most handy. I daresay if we run into any more ghouls or other type of undead things will go a little easier on us with you around. However, let’s get back to the present problem. I say again that time is of the essence. We can’t turn back now, and even if the Prince could spare reinforcements, which he can’t, we need to get to the trading post as fast as we can and see what is going on. We rangers, and our scout Lorindel, can go see if we can locate Chief Rahk and the Malarat tribe. We can make the best time and move unseen through the marsh. If necessary, we can follow any tracks or other signs to lead us to the lizardfolk or else to warn us of the Amedi. The rest of you under the protection of Sgt. Apone and his troops can stay back and keep the boat ready to move. Once we know what is going on out there for good or ill, we can report back to the Prince and receive further instructions or reinforcements.”

Fingol responds, “Yes sir!”

Gar gives a thumbs-up to signal his agreement, but for once is silent.

Sgt. Apone says, “I certainly have no objection. My men and women and I are with you Sir Ragnbjorn.”

“Agreed,” says Indranil.

Aramek chimes in with, “Are you going to need my services on this foray?”

Ragnbjorn gives Aramek an appraising once over and says, “You’re that hedge-wizard Captain Bodwyn recruited aren’t you? Unless you’ve got any skills at tracking or moving unseen and unheard through marsh that we haven’t been told about, you’d better stay back with your squad.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Aramek says with a bow.

Rain gives Lorindel a look, as though to say, See if you can get me included on the scouting expedition.

“I’m ready to move out when you give the word,” says Lorindel. “Also – if I may – I think bringing Rain along could prove useful. I’ve learned she possesses some tracking skills albeit more urban in nature. But they could be advantageous if we come across any settlements that are more sophisticated than mere villages. Anyway, just a thought,” says Lorindel as he flashes a wink in Rain’s direction.

Rain winks back.

Fingol thinks, Huh, so now she’s even manipulating other people into doing favors for her.

Ragnbjorn looks at Rain, “Urban tracking skills huh? That’s nice. I think Rain,” and here he gives her a stern look, “that you might be better employed watching over your teammates. Don’t you?”

Rain responds, “Yes sir.”

As the day progresses, the skies are clear and there is a low breeze that is just enough to fill the sail of the Javan Queen. Unfortunately, it also becomes unseasonably hot. The heat and humidity are stifling, and the air itself seems heavy in everyone’s lungs. Clouds of insects are so thick in places that they look like clouds of smoke swirling in the air. Sweat trickles down foreheads and stings as it bypasses already soaked eyebrows and runs into eyes. Clothes are soaked in sweat and cling like a second skin. Armor becomes unbearably stifling. The hair of the crew and the delegates who are wearing no helmets is damp, while those wearing helmets feel as if they are being slowly steamed.

Ragnbjorn finally says, “If this keeps up, we’re all going to die of heat stroke, never mind the Amedi or the lizardfolk. Sgt. Apone, tell your men to take their armor and helmets off and keep themselves cool. It should only take a minute to get their armor back on if we spot anyone coming towards us if we keep to the center of the river. Also, have them dip their tabards and shirts over the side and wet them.” Ragnbjorn follows his own advice and takes off his own helmet and mithril armor, laying it beside his shield in the deckhouse.

“Remove my armor?” questions Lorindel with a bit of rising panic in his voice. “Sir, we’ve seen how bad it can be getting caught with one’s pants down – no offense brother. Still though,” Lorindel reconsiders, “I doubt the benefits gained from my armor would outweigh what would be lost due to fatigue. With that, Lorindel removes his chain shirt.

Fingol takes his armor off, storing it next to his father’s. He puts his swords back on.

Indranil also takes off his armor but leaves it lying within his grasp.

Captain Olnut, wiping the sweat from his eyes with a cloth, opens up all the shutters on the deckhouse to allow the air to circulate through it as much as possible. He also has buckets of water drawn from over the side to splash down the crew on the bow and stern.

Despite taking off their armor and wetting themselves down, Fingol and the Marinus brothers find themselves all cramped and weakened from the heat and humidity. Ragnbjorn laughs gently and sends them into the deckhouse to get out of the sun. “Don’t worry, I can’t say you ever get used to this kind of heat and humidity, but you’ll eventually learn to live with it.”

Gar, recognizing that if enthralled by a monster one will sink like a stone, had never bothered to put on his armor. In fact, it’s so warm he takes off all his clothes to bathe in the sun. However, after a few minutes of swatting flies and mosquitoes with appendages flying in every direction, Gar puts on his cloak as an insect repellent but likes the ventilation. So it is that by noon, Gar can be found hanging lolling about like a child at the stern wearing only boots, a cloak, and his amulet. Rubbing the Green Man with his left hand, Gar sends a Storm Blast spraying into the air with his right so that it rains down on him to wet his cloak and hair. The others can hear him squeal, “Whee!” as he does so.

For a moment, Gar contemplates diving into the water to swim alongside the boat. As he looks out over the river he sees the back of something huge and scaly break the water’s surface and then dive deep. It was bigger than any relative of a lizard that Gar had ever seen, and the coloring was different than the emerald green of Lord Heslex, but it was impossible to tell what it might have been from the brief glance that he had. All that Gar can be sure of is that there is something huge beneath the waters. He decides that taking a swim might not be the best idea.

As they continue upriver they pass a turtle sitting on a log, unmoving, as if it is too hot to even slip back into the water. The Hool Marshes, usually filled with life and activity, is now uncannily quiet as even the birds have fallen silent and the living creatures of the swamp seek shade or the coolness of the waters. Farther out over the river two large herons fly lazily across the swamp. Everywhere there is a thick haze of moisture; and everyone soon feels as though they have been out in the rain, but it is only the effect of the heat and overpowering humidity.

Around noon the river begins to wind its way through fields of grasses with long thin leaves growing on little hillocks. The gray-green grasses form clumps, filling in and building on tiny higher, more secure spots in the sodden land. Between areas stabilized by the grasses, the ground is muddy and covered with tiny, fast-growing plants that do nothing to stabilize it. Making their way through these grassy areas a herd of perhaps a dozen deer are spotted. 

As the day wears on into the late afternoon, it gets cooler and Fingol approaches Indranil. “Sir Indranil, I am going mad with nothing to do until we arrive at the trading post. Perhaps this is the time to make right my oversight of the other day. You noted in our bout that I was able to control the initiative through our fight. There are a series of tactics, stances and moves I was taught to assist in this. I should have offered to show them at the time, but as I recall Father Gar was demanding more attention than usual. Would you like me to walk you through them now? It will take more than one session to show you all that you would need to know. Practice is necessary to perfect them also, but it’s nothing beyond a fighter of your ability. Who knows, it may even break the tension of this wait and put this time to some use.”

Indranil responds, “Sir Fingol, I gladly accept! I confess I too am growing bored and welcome a chance to take my mind off the stifling heat and constant harassment from the bugs – and it’s only the second day!”

Fingol musters all the enthusiasm he can in the heat. “Excellent! We won’t be sparring, so we don’t need the padded weapons we had in the practice ring. In fact, we can just use handles or other tools from the boat.” Fingol gathers up the necessary items finding a good spot for the practice.

The rest of the day goes by without any further incident and gradually cools off until evening. Ragnbjorn pulls Fingol and the Marinus brothers aside to tell them what he knows of weather lore. Watching the setting sun, he predicts that there will be rain and high winds for the next day or two, but after that it will probably be much more pleasant, though probably windy. “Of course, that will be much preferable to this damnable sticky heat, as long as it isn’t too windy.”

Just as Ragnbjorn predicted, it rains all the next morning with strong winds from the west. The sail is taken down, and the rowers struggle against the current. Sgt. Apone even has his troops take turns at the oars. The rain stops around noon, but the winds continue throughout the rest of the day. This is a blessing however, for while still warm, it is not as hot or as humid as the day before.

Rain spends much of her free time up on deck, or while it’s raining in the deckhouse, playing her flute solemnly as if in accompaniment to the wind itself. The memories of her previous life have come to haunt her as this is the first time she has been away from Westkeep since she fled there. Though not as overpowering as she had thought they might be, she still sees visions of her dead father, slain by her own hand, slipping into view from the corner of her vision as if appearing from out of the marsh fog. The difference is that that now she can look at it. Now she can deal with it. Apparently time does heal wounds, she muses to herself and smiles ever so slightly at the thought.

Aramek strips down to his braies and goes up on deck to enjoy the wind, pelting rain and the coolness. It reminds him of his childhood, out in the woods with Snoop. He had especially enjoyed rainy days splashing in the creek down by the willow tree where he and Snoop first met.

Snoop, is of course a bit indignant about having to sit by his master, in the rain, exposed to the elements, but that certainly doesn’t stop him from sticking by Aramek. After all, if he didn’t protect Aramek, who would?

Lorindel stays above deck. Though his bow is on his back, he vigilantly scans the shoreline ahead.

Indranil and Fingol continue practicing their swordplay, now fully armored.

Gar hangs out with Rain, at least when she is playing he does, listening to her notes that seems to ride on the winds. When the liquid sky seems to fuse with the earth and the river, Gar is inspired by her music to test himself further. Rubbing his little Green Man, he steps out from under the deck roof. Looking up into the heavens and then to Rain, he says, “May Obad-Hai bless my fire with song.” He thus attempts to breathe small fire darts into the rain, rhythmically in tune with the wind and Rain. At first he can only breath one out every six seconds or so. Before moving past this failed experiment, Gar closes his eyes in deep meditation while reaching into the place where lava meets his soul. Communing with his god Obad-Hai, Gar tries again. Revving up his molten nature, visualizing complete control of the flame, Gar breathes one half of a fire bolt, but with his lips held tightly closed, cheeks puffed out and now glowing rosily. He then attempts to let out the licking flames a little at a time in tune with the music. This time it works.

Rain enjoys this tremendously as she has very seldom shared her music with other performers and never with one as odd as Gar. Rain laughs and comments to Gar during a break between the Fire and Rain suite, as she thinks of it, “Now you just need to learn to juggle, you can blow fire for emphasis between tossing torches or something… I have seen fire breathers do that.”

Gar laughs out loud, “Well, we need to do something to pass the time. I did a little juggling when I was younger but I’m probably not very good at it anymore. Is there anything around here I might juggle? Daggers perhaps?” Gar smiles wickedly.

Rain returns the laughter and replies, “I suggest keeping to juggling what you are best at, friend priest – your wit.”

Smiling, Gar replies, “Yes, I suppose you are right, though either could get us killed.”

Once all the provisions and gear have been loaded and secured, Captain Olnut orders everyone to get below or otherwise make sure they are out of the way. He then orders Uglash to cast off the lines, while the other crew members use long poles to push the boat away from the wharf. It is a fairly warm day, and muggy as always. In the distance, dark clouds promise rain before nightfall. They begin to pass the fishing villages along the shore that cluster around Westkeep. Children can be seen playing hide and seek among the trees and huts.

Aramek and Rain go below with the squad as Sgt. Apone makes sure everyone is assigned a hammock and that their gear is properly stowed away and that they all know their watch assignments for the next few days.

Lorindel stays on deck scanning the shoreline ahead.

After they are dismissed by Sgt Apone, Rain says to Aramek, “I’m heading up to the deck” and does so. She sits down on top of the deckhouse next to Indranil and Gar with her legs hanging over the side and begins to play her flute.

“A jester and a bard…” Fingol says aloud to himself, remembering Rain’s earlier comments.

Aramek, on the other hand, is pretty exhausted by everything that has happened over the past couple of days and decides to lie in his hammock and collect his thoughts. Thus, he drifts in and out of sleep for the next half an hour.

Gar having calmed down, takes a long toke and pats Indranil on the shoulder as smoke shoots out of his nose. “Methinks you doth protest too much!” He laughs again, “Bark all you want, I rather enjoy it, but let us pledge to watch each others’ back in battle. Eh?”

“Aye. The only way they will get to you is through me my friend.”

“Thank you. May Obad-Hai always give me the power to heal you as you do so.”

Gar takes another long toke. “Nice smoke. It’s been a long time since I smoked tobacco.” Exhaling the smoke through his nose again like a pro, Gar ponders out loud, “I’ve been wondering if I can control the size and aim of my fire bolts when I belch. This seems to be a nice wet environment to safely practice such things. Would you like to join me at the bow of the ship? It would make a nice show of force too, in case any traitors are on board. I suppose we should ask the permission of the captain first? Perhaps Sir Ragnbjorn?”

“That would be great fun!” responds Indranil. “May I suggest we go practice at the stern instead? That way we won’t risk the blow-back of sailing into lingering smoke and fire? I suspect the captain might say no since we are on a wooden boat…  how about we take the ‘ask forgiveness’ route eh?”

Gar laughs again, “Deal! Let’s do it. Lead the way, good sir. Would you like to pick out my targets? I have a 30′ range.”

When they arrive at the stern, Gar puts his fingers to his lips and ponders for a moment. “I have a few experiments that I would like to do and then you can give me targets on the shore. Okay?”

Gar takes another long toke to fill his lungs, fondles his little Green Man while he tilts his head back to lob a fire bolt high into the air, so that it will fall in the river.

Gar prays deeply with closed eyes to Obad-Hai to reduce the size of his fire bolt to a fire dart – something more playful than harmful.

After another long toke and exhale through his nostrils, Gar has another idea. Closing his eyes and fondling his little Green Man, Gar feels the source of his fire deep in his lungs while he communes with Obad-Hai. Still in prayer, he takes another toke, holds it in a long time, and uses it to breathe fire through his nostrils. ‘Nothing quite like blowing a little time on the river,’ he thinks.

Indranil counsels, “Father Gar, close your eyes and in your mind imagine what it is you are trying to do. Hold that thought carefully and then express your fire as you imagined it.”

Gar finds that he can fire the fire bolts from his nostrils if he wishes, but it throws his aim off as he has to tilt his head way back and it singes his nostril hairs – not a pleasant odor or sensation. It is easier to do so from his mouth for some reason. He also finds that he can choose to limit the flame in terms of quantity and range.

At some point when no one is near to hear, Gar looks around and lowers his voice to say, “Sir Indranil, if you want to worry about someone, watch Noch. There is something not quite right about him. After the Scarlet Brotherhood assassination attempt, he avoided the gaze of the paladins by slinking around behind them. He is an edgy sort of character. And yet at other times, it seems like he could be the older brother of Rain because of his concern for her. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there is more to him than meets the eye.”

Indranil looks over at Father Gar for a few seconds then turns back to watch the boat’s wake in the water as it leaves ripples and lines that spread out from the boat in v shapes that eventually reach each side of the river bank.

“Father Gar, you know my suspicious nature. I watch everyone. Do you see our wake? How from this point in time and space we touch all the riverbank? Like cause and effect, or the warp and weft of a tapestry we are all connected, one can at times almost feel the energy dynamically connecting us if we listen hard enough. I have learned that not listening to my inner voice, which speaks to me in a language I sometimes can barely hear or understand, usually gets me in trouble. If your intuition is vibrating then we must pay it respect.”

“Yes, indeed, I agree.” Smiling, Gar adds, “I don’t want you to kill him yet, he is on our side after all, but let’s both keep an eye on him, nonetheless.”

“Yes wise one. I will try not to kill him right away,” Indranil says and laughs quietly. “Ah, see that log there! Try and hit it!”

Gar smiles while he fondles his little Green Man and belches, shooting forth yet another bolt of fire that scorches the passing driftwood.

“I don’t want to waste the arrows at the moment, but I bet we can have flaming arrows now.” Gar looks around the stern, “Are there any faggots around here with which I can practice?”

“Let’s work on your aim,” says Indranil. “I have been considering your comment that you have a hard time aiming and controlling your fire flow. I will be right back.”

With that Indranil walks over to the First Mate and asks, “First, do you have any small pieces of scrap, wood, paper, cloth that we might use as floating targets?”

Uglash turns his gaze upon Indranil, his expression neutral. “I am sorry good sir, but Captain Olnut doesn’t normally take on scrap when we get underway. He’s funny that way. Pardon me, but I have to take some soundings. And make sure your companion doesn’t burn our ship down. The captain wouldn’t like that.”

Meanwhile, Fingol seeks out Ragnbjorn and finds him on the bow. In Draconic Fingol says, ”Thank you for officiating the bouts yesterday. And today, in the wheelhouse! Although I don’t know how much has been settled between Sir Indranil and I.”

“Hmm,” Ragnbjorn ponders for a moment. “Sir Indranil is one of the most zealous, earnest, and professional ranger I have had the pleasure to train. As you can see, sometimes he is a bit too zealous. He can also be touchy if he feels his honor is impugned.”

Ragnbjorn nods his head to the top of the deckhouse where Indranil and Gar are smoking pipes together and chatting. “Those two seem to have patched things up between them – for the moment. I hope you two can become good friends. Perhaps you have much to learn from each other. Don’t underestimate him, and don’t let him underestimate you.”

“Hmm,” Fingol reflects, “Speaking of wasting strength I agree with you that fighting with Indranil is foolish…  or that I have a lot to learn from him. That’s how you put it, isn’t it? It’s just that I find that I am either bullying him or letting him bully me. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground. I hope we have the chance to work that out before we face any real challenges.”

“That’s something you two will have to work out,” Ragnbjorn says. “It will be good for you both. Just remember that you are both in the service of the King’s Rangers.”

Deciding to change the topic Fingol says, “I must admit to being ill at ease with the idea of dealing with these negotiations. What should I expect of Chief Rahk?”

Ragnbjorn grimaces, “Son, you’ve always been stand-offish. I know you are more comfortable out alone in the wilds than in any court. Maybe this will be good for you. I’ve spoken with Prince Prospero about this mission in private. He is impressed with your good sense and though he acknowledges your more introspective nature, he thinks that the lizardfolk will appreciate sincerity and good intentions more than sly courtly graces. He is right in this I think. The lizardfolk have a very direct and simple nature. Chief Rahk wants to be able to live in peace with us humans, as long as we do not try to push them off their land or endanger their livelihood. If we give them respect and keep our distance, they will do the same. I think Chief Rahk knows that in the end, human numbers will prevail and so he knows peaceful coexistence is their only hope. He trusts me, and hopefully he’ll extend that trust to you.”

Ragnbjorn pauses to think, gazing out at the river. “He’s not the one you need to worry about though. There is a shaman named G’ruk. He is no friend to anyone but himself I daresay. G’ruk is greatly respected among the Malarat tribe. He preaches that the lizardfolk once ruled all these lands, not just the Hool Marshes but all of the Flanaess. He says that the reptilians are the true rulers of Oerth and that someday they will again have the power to reclaim what was once theirs before the coming of the elves, dwarves, and humans. G’ruk feels that Chief Rahk humiliates himself and all the lizardfolk by deigning to speak with us at all. So like I said, Chief Rahk is one thing, but G’ruk is our real problem if he has returned, and Ehlonna help us all if he has gained more influence or if Chief Rahk has been deposed by a puppet chief dancing to G’ruk’s strings. Then we’ll need all these soldiers and rangers just to get back in one piece.”

Fingol says, “I suppose we can only keep going. We’ll find out about G’ruk when we get there. If he is in power, or comes into it, there is little to be done. One can’t reason with a racist ideology. It seems that we have more than one to contend with. Could his power be backed by the Scarlet Brotherhood as well? Cutting off Westkeep’s food supply and escape would be an excellent strategy for the enemy.”

“That it would,” Ragnbjorn agrees. “However, if the lizardfolk do go on the warpath, I don’t think they would do so knowingly to help the Scarlet Brotherhood. Their war will be against all humans. But of course the Scarlet Brotherhood could find ways to manipulate them, and when it comes down to it, the forces of Keoland are the ones that would face the brunt of any lizardfolk attacks. Once we have done enough harm to each other, the Scarlet Brotherhood and their forces will be quick to return here in force.”

Ragnbjorn pauses and actually seems nervous about what he is going to say next, “Uh son, I couldn’t help but notice that you seem to be showing favor to that soldier, Rain. Is there anything going on between you?”

Forgetting himself and slipping into his native Keolandish Fingo responds, “Ha!  Good one,” Fingol laughs, continuing in Draconic, “She’s very pretty, and that’s hard to overlook. But no, any favoritism I might be showing her was won in the dueling ring. You had asked me after I fought Lorindel if I had met an opponent that quick before. Well, she got the better of me. I suppose I deserved it. I had won two other bouts easily, and I guess I was over-confident. A mistake that’s easier to fall into when your opponent has a padded weapon. I didn’t make that mistake with the Olman raiders.”

Ragnbjorn nods. “Well, you shouldn’t really be getting too friendly with the men-at-arms anyway. It’s bad for discipline. But I can see where she has won your respect, and…” He stops and rubs his chin and looks around to make sure no one is near. “Son, I shouldn’t tell you this, and you must speak of this to no one else. I only tell you because you’re my son and I won’t allow you to walk blindly into, well, not a trap exactly… Look, just know that whatever you may say to Rain you should figure you are saying directly to the Prince. I am privy to the fact that she reports directly to the Prince’s Spy Master – and no I won’t tell you who that is. She’s the Prince’s agent, so be careful. And tell no one else.”

“Hmmm. Well, I don’t think I’ve said anything to her that I wouldn’t say in front of the Prince. In fact, that might explain why the Prince feels he can trust me. So other than the fact that we have spoken on occasion – that is I suppose a violation of military code – I can’t think that I have anything to fear from that revelation. But I thank you for it, to be sure. And it does explain some of those asides she made to Aramek. She’s clearly been watching Indranil and me while we were unaware. Which, again, is no reason for me to worry. I suppose that explains why…” Fingol trails off, “Forgive me, I was about to ask something you shouldn’t answer.” Fingol shifts his thoughts away from the night of the attack on the Prince, and how Rain was there in the Prince’s study when he and the guard rushed upstairs.

Ragnbjorn continues in low tones. “I will say this, she is an incredible fighter. She took down five of the assassins on her own that night we were attacked. I saw for my own eyes how courageous she is and willing to put her life on the line for the Prince. Again, say nothing to anyone else about this. You and I are the only ones, as far as I know, on this boat that knows about her. I just want you to know with whom you’re dealing. Now let us speak of this no more.” As he finishes his assessment of her, Rain’s flute trails off. FIngol and Ragnbjorn can see that Lorindel has joined her up on the deckhouse, and soon after Aramek joins them as well.

Lorindel hears Rain’s flute and goes up to the deckhouse. “Milady,” he says during a pause in her playing. “With all the events of these past days, we never got a chance to talk. I had a positive feeling about Fergus and the others…”

Lorindel cuts off mid sentence, “How’s Cole, by the way?”

Rain replies, “Cole is doing well, back to his brutish self by now I would think. Thanks for asking.”

“If I may pry,” begins Lorindel, “I am curious as to your relationship to that bunch. Cole is obvious, but I think it is more than casual connection through your brother. If I’m out of line, please accept my apologies. Though my beliefs hold me to the law, I am a bit of a scoundrel myself,” confesses Lorindel. ”I can see the honor Fergus and the others are beholden to, though it may manifest itself in ways that are, shall we say, unorthodox.”

Rain smiles slightly at the forward question then responds, “Well… Cole and Dion are my brothers, they are family. Fergus and his… well, they are Family.” She eyes him at this point to gauge a reaction, and then continues, “You are correct about Fergus, he is unorthodox. But he is very passionate about our freedom, Westkeep’s freedom. We are used to ‘working with’ occupational governments a certain way ’cause they have always been just that, occupational. We’re not used to kingdoms butting into our business, overthrowing evil dictator brotherhoods and giving us that which we usually have to fight for on our own. How dare they come in and help us!”

Rain smiles at her own jest and then continues, “As your brother put it a short while ago, trust has to be earned. The Family does not trust the Keolanders yet. Heh, and with those idiot Cudgels running around I’m not sure they ever will.”

The sound of Rain’s playing, combined with the ‘fwumph’ of Gar’s attacks on river debris finally brings Aramek back to full consciousness, at which point he stretches like a cat in the sun and goes out on deck. Thence he moves up to the top of the deckhouse.

“Your flute playing was very nice Rain! It was helping me doze until the good priest decided to kill some innocent logs. Where did you learn to play so well?”

Rain turns her attention to Aramek, “I’m glad you like it. Just one of the things I have picked up the last few years. I have found it’s a better way to center myself than throwing daggers at walls, tends to make others less nervous as well” she ends with an evil grin.

Turning back to Lorindel she asks, “So who is the better scout, you or your brother?”

“My brother and I have taken different paths. Indranil is my senior, and therefore more experienced,” acknowledges Lorindel. “But we both have our strengths and we both have keen senses. What one misses, the other will catch.”

Rain says smiling but serious, ”I am guessing that your skills are best suited to the outdoors; I would ask a favor. I have skills of my own in ‘scouting’, which I would be happy to exercise in the more urban environments we may encounter. I am not too sure if Sgt Apone or the other leaders of this mission are aware of this so would count it a favor if, when the time is appropriate, you or your brother would suggest my use.”

“Ah, an urban tracker!” exclaims Lorindel. “Most impressive. I’m not that accustomed to city environments, so your skills should come in handy. Of course I’ll suggest it.”

Rain gives a very slight bow and says, “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Then noticing the rain come in, she says, “Time to get indoors it looks like,” before heading below deck.

The Javan Queen continues to sail upriver, heading due west. The temperature is moderate though muggy, and a gentle breeze comes in from the northeast. As afternoon turns into early evening it begins to rain, and all but the captain and the first mate head inside.

When Gar goes below deck, he sees Master Ailil and the other fisherman representatives and asks, “Master, I hope you are comfortable? Crabby, Fishbate, Eochaid, I hope you are doing fine as well?”

Master Ailil with a somber look says, “Well, I certainly hope there are enough of you if the lizardfolk are indeed on the warpath.” The others nod their agreement with Master Ailil’s concern.

One of the men-at-arms, Hadsyn, hears this and says, “Don’t you worry. I am ready, man. Ready to get it on. Check-it-out. I am the ultimate badass… state of the badass art. You do not want to fuck with me. Hey, Master Ailil, don’t worry. Me and my squad of ultimate badasses will protect you. Check-it-out.,” Hadsyn holds out his longbow, “At 100 pounds of power with a 32 inch draw, this bow will go right through one of those snakeskins if they give us trouble, and we’ve got our shortswords for close in fighting, we’ve got knives, sharp sticks…”

Another of the men-at-arms, Hex, comes over grabs Hadsyn by his battle harness and pulls him over to a hammock. His voice is low, but it carries. “Save it.”

Hadsyn meekly replies, “Sure Hex.”

Rain chuckles at this, gets up from her hammock and moves over to Hadsyn. ”Let me see that thing” she asks reaching out towards his bow, but not grabbing it without permission.

“Sure Rain, it’s the standard issue longbow, same as yours.”

Rain pulls on it a couple times then says not quietly, “Well from your bragging I thought maybe it was elven made or something” and smiles broadly.

Hadsyn looks around, and then leans in towards Rain and whispers, “Naw, if you want special equipment, you should look at Noch’s gear. There is nothing standard there. Don’t say I said anything. It’s not something we talk about. He don’t like it.”

“Interesting, I’ll have to find a way to talk to him about that. Thanks, Hadsyn.”

Gar smiles at Master Ailil and says, “Well, it seems we are in capable hands, Master. I do hope we have a chance to talk sometime soon more privately. Since I have been asked to help negotiate, I would like to hear from you four about your specific hopes for the negotiation and your bottom lines, later tonight or perhaps tomorrow, then, gentlemen?”

Master Ailil frowns and in his whispery voice says, “What we want does not require many words. It is simple: the freedom to partake of the bounty of the marshes to feed our people. If the lizardfolk have a problem with this, then they need to be eliminated. I do not see what there is to discuss.”

Gar, clasping his hands together in a thoughtful gesture, replies, “Succinctly put, Master. Where the marshes are fished in a way that allows all life to replenish itself, I agree with you that all should be allowed to partake of the bounty of the earth.” Still with a smile on his face, Gar adds, “But I can assure you, Master, that we do not want to kill the lizardfolk. Give and take will be required of all of us to bring about a workable solution for all involved.” With that, Gar bows and lifts his palms together in reverence, before he goes to rest in his bunk.

Fingol says, “Have you considered, Master Ailil, that the lizardfolk have access to more of the marsh than the fishermen of West Keep do? This poses a tremendous military problem for an invader, such that I doubt any army could dislodge them. And although my training does not touch on these matters, I would think that their greater ability to travel the marsh would mean that more of the swamp could be worked and at a much lower cost. Certainly, men of vision could work out some sort of advantage. It seems that the great merchant houses frequently have such stories at their genesis, in any case.”

Ailil smiles at Fingol. “That is an interesting point. Yes, I will have to ponder that.”

Fingol just nods, saying, “At your service.” Inwardly pleased that Ailil sees an opportunity that might be the basis for a settled peace and a trade agreement.

At sunset, the Javan Queen anchors off of a small island in the middle of the river. Ragnbjorn, Fingol, and the Marinus brothers all head out to check out the island, but, being no more than 50 yards across either way, this doesn’t take long.

Ragnbjorn says to Fingol and the Marinus brothers, “Gentlemen, I want to give you all the same word of warning I gave to Fingol earlier. Don’t fraternize with the men-at-arms. It’s not good for discipline if we get too chummy with them. The same goes for fishermen and the crew. We are Knights of Keoland and must set an example. Be courteous but professional.

“Also, Sir Indranil, you are correct to be suspicious. We do not know all of these people personally, though I daresay Vaughn would not have set us up with a captain or crew that would slit our throats in our sleep. But even those men-at-arms are mercenaries, and not all are from Keoland. So figure that anything you say to them won’t stop there.” He eyes Fingol, “I don’t think I need say any more than that. Be wary, be professional, maintain your dignity and honor at all times around the commoners. That is all.”

“Aye, Sir Ragnbjorn,” Indranil replies, “We will remain forever vigilant.”

“And if we aren’t, I’m sure you’ll keep us sharp.” Fingol says with a genuine attempt at good humor.

For supper that evening, they have cheese, salted meat, and rice balls. The drumming of the rain on the deck above is calming. Those who are not on first watch find it easy enough to drift off to sleep in the hammocks that have been hung about the hold.

After supper, Rain finds Noch sitting on his hammock polishing his shortsword, she does note that it seems to be a high quality blade, though there is nothing otherwise exceptional about it.

Rain approaches then says, “Hey Noch”, then quieter so only he can hear, “Nice blade. That sure isn’t standard issue.”

Noch looks up at Rain, stony faced. He blinks and then smiles, “Sorry Rain, I was lost in thought. Yes, you know how we all got these daggers from the Prince for services rendered?” He puts down his shortsword and brings out the dagger. “Well, I’ve been a mercenary for quite a few years. This isn’t the first reward or bonus that I’ve received. Most of my equipment comes from such earlier service. I’m sure you will be as well equipped once you’ve been around as long as I have.”

Rain responds, casually interested but not trying to pry, “Really, what were some of your previous services?”

“Well, I was probably not much older than you when I started out. Fortunately or unfortunately I missed most of the so-called Greyhawk Wars, but I was in Gradsul when the Scarlet Brotherhood attempted to invade seven years or so ago. After that, I’ve been with various companies working to keep the Scarlet Brotherhood out of Keoland. I’ve seen things…” He shakes his head at the memories. “It can harden you. That’s all I’ll say.”

Rain says somberly, “I’ll bet. How did you end up in the Westkeep Guard?”

“That’s a simple enough tale. I signed on with Captain Bodwyn’s company when he was gathering troops to fill his ranks in preparation for King Skotti’s little adventure down here. I didn’t feel like sitting around in Gradsul busting up drunken brawls for the rest of my life. This sounded like it would be a bit more challenging. And it certainly has been. Scarlet Brotherhood assassins, savages running wild through the streets, and now this! Yes, this has kept my blades from getting too thirsty.” He grins at Rain.

Again lowering her voice Rain asks, “Hey, mind if I ask you a personal question regarding our practice bouts the other day?”

“You can ask,” Noch says, with a tone that says, ‘but I might not answer.’

“You seemed to wipe up the practice field with everybody before you got to me. Then things changed… It didn’t look so to me, but did you throw our fight to keep from being the winner or something?”

“Heh, so you noticed that huh? Look, I just enjoy being a common soldier. I don’t want any fancy promotions or anything. Sure, I could have beaten you handily. But why show off anymore than I need to? You gave me a good workout, have no fear of that.” Noch’s face twitches a bit as he says this, and his eyes, more than ever, are far from smiling.

“Yah, I thought you may have” she says and half smiles. Purposely misinterpreting the look on his face she goes on, “Well, you look like you could use some rest – me as well. Talk to ya later, Noch.” She then heads off to catch some sleep before her watch.

At dusk the rains stop. As evening settles over the swamp, a cool layer of air begins to descend and wisps of fog can be seen developing over the river. Soon the fog is thick over the water and spreading out to fill the swamp. Shortly a heavy fog envelops the Javan Queen, bringing with it intensified smells and sounds of the swamp. The fog is soon so thick that visibility drops to only about twenty feet. It remains like this throughout the night.