Lorendil sat alone in the Inn, as he did on numerous occasions.  He 
took great pleasure in watching the various personages that frequented 
the common room.  Oh, their boisterous narrations of their latest and 
greatest adventure, the details of which had surely grown on the journey 
home, were very entertaining indeed!  What surprised him the most was 
how similar they all typically were to each other.  Traveled to some 
far, distant land, slew some terrific monster, recovered some 
treasure...or artifact...or damsel...it was getting to be routine.  Oh, 
to be sure, there were the occasional keepers -- some of the more well-
known patrons and better skilled adventurers had some truly unique 
stories to weave...and they were less kin to extrapolation.  These were 
truly worth the time and attention spent to listen in on.  Lorendil 
would sit and loose himself in the intricacies of the unfolding story, 
gazing aimlessly at the fireplace.  He liked to watch the waves of heat 
rolling out into the room.  Ah, there was such an added dimension when 
you could see into the infrared...not like those poor humans...what they 
were missing!  Sometimes he would wonder how they could even get around 
at night, when the light that they *_could_* see was sleeping!  Oh, 
well...they were certainly good for entertainment, among other things.
     But there was something else lately.  Lorendil had been hearing 
some strange murmurings from the countryside north of the Inn...well, 
not hearing in the human sense.  It was deeper, more of a cognizance or 
an awareness than anything to do with the ear.  What was interesting 
about it to Lorendil was that there was one voice that was very loud, 
very strong, but another one that was very faint.  Even so, this faint 
voice was getting stronger day by day, and he would frequently hear the 
two together, as if they were singing.  There was a certain harmony to 
this pair, and that is what kept Lorendil's interest.
     It was just such a night at the Inn...sitting at his usual table, 
sipping on some superb wine (he regularly slipped the barkeep a little 
extra, and in return the barkeep kept a special bottle set aside for 
him), and listening to the various stories that were filling the room.  
He drifted from one overblown recounting to the next, not really paying 
attention to the details but laughing inwardly at some of the more 
audacious acts of bravado that were being offered as fact.
     Suddenly, he sat bolt upright.  From the area that he had been 
hearing the two voices came a terrible cacophony of anger mixed with 
hatred.  The sound filled his mind with a symphony of negative emotion, 
and underneath lay a counter-melody of fear.  And the counter-melody was 
building, until its crescendo completely overwhelmed the first movement.  
And then again, another loud crash of anger.  Both of these outbursts of 
psychic noise had the distinct pattern of the stronger voice he had been 
listening to over the past few days, but this time the quieter voice was 
missing.  This bore investigation!  Lorendil slowly closed his eyes, and 
his body relaxed as he concentrated to the north, and on the strange din 
that had interrupted his evening at the Inn.
     Out of the blackness a vision appeared.  There was a strange rock 
formation, and a scene of panic and disorder cascading around its base.  
Dozens of humanoid figures were running about with no sense of purpose, 
and raw fear was coursing through their minds.  The clamour was 
deafening, with definite overtones of that loud voice from before.  But 
that voice was not here, and the noise from these wretches was annoying 
to Lorendil.  Concentrating further, the scene shifted.  He found 
himself viewing a forest, with a bright light in the distance.  He moved 
in closer, and the light brightened and began to flicker, revealing a 
column of smoke rising from its source.  As he approached, he noticed 
that the light source was in a clearing and not amongst the trees.  
Sailing over the edge of the woods, he almost missed the small pinpoint 
of light that glowed just under the boughs of the outermost trees.  It 
was a richly inlaid staff, topped with a large crystal that was faintly 
glowing red.  It was being held by what appeared to be a middle-aged, 
gray-haired man.  The signature of the strong voice was clear upon him.  
Standing before him was another man, and he bore the signature of the 
weaker voice.  For the first time, Lorendil could see the source of the 
harmonious singing that he had been listening to at the Inn.  Perhaps it 
would be interesting to contact one of them, no?  But which one?

     [Lorendil appears as a middle-aged elven male with some notable 
exceptions.  He is particularly tall for elvenkind, standing a full six 
feet from head to toe.  He is not characteristically slim as elves tend 
to be, but he is not as broad in the shoulders as human males of the 
same height are, either.  His hair is a strange shade of gray...not the 
gray normally associated with aging but a more deliberate and solid hue.  
His eyes are of a similar color, but can vary from a shining silver to a 
deep darkness, almost black.  He carries himself in a very noble and 
dignified manner, almost to the point of haughtiness.  In fact, he tends 
to look down upon most beings, save the few that he deems worthy to be 
his peers.  These he treats with utmost respect and impeccable 
politeness.  He dresses finely, but nothing elaborate or flashy.  He has 
refined tastes in fashion and food, dressing in only the finest 
materials and workmanship and dining on only the best selections 
available.]

     Therion was delighted!  Lt. Addison and his troops had done a 
marvelous job, and Vengar had led the little group to an unhoped for 
degree of success...but there was something that wasn't quite right.  A 
powerful presence, seemingly adept at mind magic, was letting itself be 
felt at the limits of Therion's perceptions.  And, though the little 
group had fought like heros, the numbers were just too far out of 
balance.
     As the orcs tried to regain some degree of composure, or at least 
organization, the group left for a safer area.  It would be some time 
before the enemy was ready to pursue them, and they made full use of the 
opportunity to disengage and withdraw.
     Sitting for a rest, Therion said to Vengar, "Today has gone well; 
very well indeed.  However, we did lose 1 man...and, the problem is, 
even if every day goes as well as this, we will surely lose.  We could 
kill 10 of them...even 25 of them!...for every one of us, and we would 
still lose."  Therion paused.
     "There is a man, back in Montfort.  His name is Marco, and he heads 
a bank there.  The bank is involved in far more than taking deposits and 
making the occassional loan...Marco and his contacts can arrange 
anything...anything at all...for a price.  Vengar, I am not a poor 
man...the barony has been most prosperous over the years.  I am thinking 
of contacting the Bank, and making arrangements with Marco to send a 
group of mercenaries to the area.  The mercenaries have a 
certain...reputation...for excesses, but they are good at what they do.  
They would certainly show Gurlith no quarter.  Of course, the bank might 
require certain concessions, quite aside from money, in exchange for 
their help."  (Vengar picks up an emotion from Therion...the concessions 
are not likely to be pleasant for the populace of Chadwick!)
     As Vengar considers this, Therion leans back and studies Vengar for 
a moment...then continues, "Also, I may as well mention, we may have 
another problem.  There seems to be another mind mage observing us...for 
what purpose, I cannot say.  Look well to your mental wards and guards 
my friend..."
    Therion's words did not carry much hope.  Despite the victories that 
they had won this night, Vengar knew that Therion was right.  The 
soldiers of the Home Guard had been in good spirits as they left the 
supply base, but as each had a chance to reflect on the day's events, 
they realized that the battle was far from won, and that they were in a 
very hard position to continue their victories.  When they had finally 
stopped for the night, it was a very somber mood indeed.
     And in addition to the tactical situation, there was the problem of 
this other mindmage which Therion had been aluding to most of the 
evening.  This worried Vengar.  One of the first rules of combat was to 
observe your enemy before attacking, and he didn't like the feeling of 
being observed by a being of apparent power.  "'Look well to your mental 
wards and guards,' he said," Vengar thought to himself.  "And wasn't it 
just you who had lamented that you'd have to teach me to shield my 
thoughts more instinctively?  This does not bode well."
     It was early morning.  Vengar had told Addison to have his men get 
some rest, for there was little time before sunrise, and they should be 
on the move at first light.  Therion had settled in for a few winks as 
well, and Vengar had decided to employ his years of experience in the 
wars and stay up the few remaining hours of darkness.  Besides, this 
would give him some time to think the situation over.
     Despite Therion's lack of military experience, he had accurately 
assessed the situation.  However, the thought of contacting Marco and 
bringing in mercenaries was an entirely unpalatable proposal.  Vengar 
thought back to his last experience with mercenaries.  He saw what they 
did.  While the better ones tended to be experienced and well-trained 
(and from the what Therion seemed to indicate, this would be the kind 
Marco would employ), they also were very demanding in their rewards.  A 
case where the cure was worse than the disease on more than one 
occasion.  Vengar had always before turned a blind eye to the 
deprivations they would indulge in after a successful campaign...the 
memories it stirred up were too painful to face.  But since meeting 
Therion, Vengar had again faced those memories, and with Gurlith so 
close, had an opportunity to resolve them.  But the thought of 
unleashing mercenaries on the populace was unbearable, and, Vengar 
decided, entirely unnacceptable.  He would not be party to those kinds 
of excesses, nor would he stand by and allow them to occur.  It mattered 
little to the victim who the perpetrator of the crime was...it was still 
a devastating crime.  No, Vengar decided that he could not allow Therion 
to call upon Marco.  But what of Gurlith?  How would *_he_* be evicted 
from the land?
     Vengar thought himself in circles on the matter, and finally 
decided that he would be unable to resolve it that night.  Besides, 
there was another problem at hand, and since he was wasting time trying 
to figure out what to do tactically, he might make progress on the 
second.
     From what Therion had said, there was no indication if this 
presence was friend or foe, if either.  Assuming that it was foe, Vengar 
reasoned, surely it would have intervened at the supply base...didn't 
Therion first sense it at the Singing Rock?  Perhaps, unless it was 
attempting to infiltrate the group, in which case a supply base would be 
expendable.  Could this being be the mindmage that Gurlith had acquired?  
No, surely Therion would have recognized his thought patterns, since he 
had engaged him during that first battle.  On the other hand, if this 
entity were friendly, would it not have assisted in the destruction of 
the supply base?  Again, perhaps, as it may find any destruction 
distasteful, even the destruction of destroyers.  But, still, we did 
enjoy a victory even beyond my greatest expectations....that certainly 
cannot be disregarded.
     So what to do?  Vengar was certainly no match for an accomplished 
mindmage, and Therion was asleep (or appeared to be at any rate).  Just 
sit back and see what happens?  That was never Vengar's style, no matter 
the situation.  No, this called for action.  If the being is friendly, 
then this might be an opportunity to get an ally (and some much needed 
help!).  If it's neutral, then there would be no harm done.  And if it 
were maleveolent, then perhaps the audacity of Vengar's action would 
surprise it and give the fighter an opportunity to strike....or retreat.  
Resolute in his reasoning, Vengar closed his eyes and concentrated on 
the beach.
     The image came quickly, with the familiar shed a few yards away.  
Nothing else was amiss in the scene, which reassured Vengar.  As a 
safety precaution, Vengar thought of a rope by which he could secure 
himself to the shed.  This would provide a means that he could pull 
himself back to familiar grounds, he thought, and being that this was 
his mindscape, he reasoned that it ought to work.  A coil of rope 
appeared at his feet, glowing golden on the sand.  It was not entirely 
opaque, allowing light to pass through as if it were there and not there 
at the same time.  Vengar picked up the rope, and tied it about his 
waste.  Then he secured the other end to the shed.  Testing for 
strength, and satisfied that it should hold under the strongest of 
maelstroms, he then began his search.
     He walked briskly to the edge of the water.  The waves were gently 
lapping the shore, and there was no appreciable surf.  Vengar moved 
forward further, and the water was beginning to wash up over his feet, 
rhythmically advancing and receding.  All the while he was scanning the 
horizon, back and forth, from left to right and back again.  There was 
nothing to see.  He looked over his shoulder back to the shed.  He could 
see a thin line of faint golden light leading back...the safety rope 
that he had imagined.  Then, just before he turned back around, he fell 
into the shadow of a great beast.
     Vengar was startled by what greeted his eyes when he did face 
forward again.  Hovering before him over the water, not more than a few 
hundred feet away, was a huge dragon, ashen gray in color, lazily 
flapping its wings to and fro.  Vengar overcame his start, and was 
surprised to notice that he felt no fear at the sudden appearance of 
this huge creature.  Looking closer, he could see that there was a 
striking absence of color...no shade of red, blue, green, yellow, or any 
other color of the rainbow.  And the grayness that covered its body 
leaned neither towards black nor white, but carefully and purposely rode 
equidistant between them.  The dragon's eyes were a similar color.  No, 
there was a splash of non-gray...around the giant maw was a smattering 
of a black...no, it looked more to be a very deep crimson.  For whatever 
reason, and despite the years of experience, it never occurred to Vengar 
that is was the color of dried blood.
     Vengar made no motion, either to defend or to withdraw.  The dragon 
made a similar lack of motion.  They stood, facing each other for what 
seemed an eternity, and Vengar was beginning to wonder what to do next.

     Lorendil maintained his distance from the two as they began to move 
deeper into the woods away from the bright light that had brought him 
here.  He noticed that there were others around the two, and these 
others were silent.  "Must be servants," he thought to himself.
     A brief commotion at the Inn brought him back to reality.  
Apparently, somewhere across the room, a frog had appeared out of 
nowhere in the middle of a table where several people were sitting.  A 
moment later, and the frog has replaced with a ridiculous looking dwarf.  
What gall to be standing right in the middle of the table while these 
good people awaited their meals!  He briefly toyed with the idea of 
eradicating the little cretin until one of the men at the table (and a 
very VERY large one at that!) single-handedly lifted the dwarf off and 
set him on the floor.  Indeed!  What terrible table manners!
     Losing himself again into his mind's eye, he caught up with the 
pair he had been watching earlier.  There was little activity, as the 
pair and their servants were making there way through the woods.  
Lorendil continued to observe them from a distance, curiosity getting 
the better of him.  There was something about these two that for 
whatever strange reason kept him interested.  Even Lorendil had pondered 
this strange fascination and could not rationalize it (he had 
encountered many mindmages in his travels).  Still, it was an 
interesting diversion from the usual fair at the Inn.
     After several hours, Lorendil noticed that the little group seemed 
to be stopping.  The servants all slowed and eventually stopped, and so 
did the man who had the strong voice.  But the other, the Quiet One (as 
Lorendil was beginning to call him), did not stop like the others.  
After several more minutes, he began to hear the Quiet One begin to 
sing!  "Strange," thought Lorendil.  "This is the first time I believe 
that he has been without the Strong One."
     Lorendil engulfed himself in the tones of the quiet one's singing.  
Then, surprising even himself, he began to join the quiet one in song, 
merging his voice with the first.  As he did, the scene began to melt 
away.  In its place, Lorendil saw a seascape.  A small beach only a few 
hundred yards wide lay between two jagged protrusions of rock that 
jutted into a calm sea.  The rocky cliffs wrapped around behind the 
beach, cutting it off from the mainland. On the beach was a small wooden 
shed, and there was a strange golden ray of faint light that led from 
the shed towards the water and straight towards him!  He looked down at 
the end of the ray, and there was the Quiet One, standing in the water 
and looking back at the beach.  He turned around, and was startled to 
see Lorendil hovering above him.  The two did not move, each observing 
the other.  Lorendil was delighted!  He had never seen the Quiet One 
this close, and he was thrilled at the prospect of finally getting to 
talk to him.  But what to say?  How to introduce himself?  After all, 
this was the Quiet One's song, not his.
     Finally, he spoke.  "Hello, Quiet One.  I am called Lorendil, and I 
have been listening to you and your friend for some time now."  He 
waited for a reply.
     Vengar, still suffering from the shock of suddenly seeing a dragon 
where before there had been none, could not at first return Lorendil's 
greeting.  Behind him, he heard a screech, the screech of the black 
dragon that had tormented him on his first outing to the beach.  For the 
time being, the chest held, and his fear of dragonkind was kept in 
check.  Finally, mustering all the courage he could, and desperately 
trying to put forth a solid, unwavering voice, he answered.
     "Greetings, Lorendil.  My name is Vengar, yet you address me 
already with a name.  You say you have been listening to my friend and I 
for some time.  For what reason do you do this?"
     Lorendil had been asking himself this question, and hadn't come to 
an acceptable conclusion.  Now the Quiet One wanted the very answer that 
he did not have!  "I know not why I do this...except to say that you 
interest me.  Perhaps it is the joy of watching a fledgling taking 
flight while guided by the knowing wings of the instructor.  Perhaps it 
is the harmony with which the two of you sing.  Perhaps it is merely a 
diversion for an otherwise unoccupied mind.  Honestly, I do not know."
     This was not exactly the type of answer that Vengar was looking 
for, so he asked another question.  "Then can you tell me if you mean us 
any harm?"  He knew very well that only a fool or a very powerful 
adversary would answer in the positive, but the question was asked.
     Lorendil chuckled to himself, as if bemused by the query.  "Oh, no, 
Quiet One, I mean you no harm.  Why should I destroy something that I 
enjoy listening to so much?"
     That was the third reference to hearing that Lorendil had made, and 
Vengar was curious what he meant by it.  He asked, "That is reassuring.  
One thing that I do not understand...you say that you enjoy 'listening' 
to us.  What is it that you listen to?"
     It had not occurred to Lorendil that what he perceived as sound 
might be perceived by others in another manner.  "Why, what we are doing 
now.  Do you not perceive this as music?  I have heard you singing...or 
whatever it is to you...for the past several days, and have been 
fascinated by the melody.  You are usually singing...if you will forgive 
me...with the Strong One, but this night you chose to sing alone.  While 
it was most interesting, I chose to join you.  And that is where we 
are."
     Vengar realized that what Lorendil was perceiving as "singing" was 
what he saw as his mindscape.  He must have been listening to all of the 
mental activity that he and Therion had engaged in during their tangles 
with Gurlith.  Perhaps, even, Lorendil was the mindmage that Therion had 
been warning him about all along.  Since Lorendil had already indicated 
that he meant no harm (and for whatever reason, Vengar believed him), 
perhaps he could offer some assistance.
     "I am pleased that you find our songs so engrossing, but there is 
some ill news that I must tell you.  My friend and I are in grave 
danger, and it may come to pass that we shall sing no more.  If you 
would be willing to help us, perhaps this tragic event can be avoided.  
Would that be too much to ask?"
     Lorendil was horrified to hear that the two singers might be 
silenced.  But he was also unsure specifically what assistance the Quiet 
One needed.  "I cannot answer if that is too much to ask before I know 
exactly what is being asked."
     "My friend and I have been battling an orc by the name of Gurlith.  
He has brought a raiding party to these lands, and is threatening the 
city of Chadwick.  My friend is the Baron of that city, and has asked me 
to help him defeat the invaders and protect the citizenry.  While we 
have been able to fight him well thus far, our numbers are decreasing, 
and we fear we no longer have the capability to defeat him.  We need 
others to join in our fight, perhaps even resorting to mercenaries."  
     Vengar was unable to hide the disgust in his voice as he uttered 
the last words, and Lorendil noticed.  "You seem to dislike the 
possibility of having to resort to mercenaries?"
     After a brief moment, and with his gaze lowering away from the 
dragon for the first time, Vengar answered, "That is correct.  I fear 
that they will bring pain and destruction on the people of Chadwick as 
the very invaders we fight are doing now.  There are few mercenaries 
that I know of that do not take various liberties from the people they 
are hired to liberate.  I am afraid that our need being so immediate, we 
will not be able to search for these few quality soldiers."
     "Then, if that is what you ask, I may be able to provide some 
assistance.  For while I have joined you in song, my body lies 
elsewhere, and at that elsewhere there seem to be a large variety of 
fighters, soldiers, mages, mercenaries, and other sorts who may be able 
to help you.  If you like, I can attempt to locate a few 'quality 
soldiers' for your cause?"
     As they had been talking, and the prospect of assistance seemed to 
be growing, Vengar had been getting more and more surprised.  When 
Lorendil outright offered to recruit assistance, the surprise exploded.  
His voice raised in pitch, and his words came faster than before.  "That 
would be fantastic!  Please, seek the highest standard above all else, 
but do not delay in sending who you recruit, as our situation is very 
grim, and any time lost could be crucial.  If the matter of payment 
arises, and it will with mercenaries, tell them that they will be 
fighting for the Baron of Chadwick, Lord Therion, and that all will be 
rewarded fairly and generously for their service to him.  We shall await 
the fruits of your labors."
     "I shall endeavour to provide you with the highest quality of 
soldiery that I can find.  When I have succeeded, I shall sing for you, 
and you should join me in song so that we may discuss the details.  
Until then, Quiet One, I bid thee well."  The huge dragon then began to 
head slowly to sea.
     Vengar was very excited at this news, and wanted to tell Therion 
immediately.  He thought of waking the mage, but thought better of it.  
"Why disturb the body when all I need is the attention of his mind," he 
reasoned.  With that, he headed back towards the shore, imagining the 
bell post that he had used to alert Therion some time ago.  It slowly 
materialized beside the shed.
     Vengar approached it, and gently began to ring the bell.  A soft, 
lazy tone rang out across the beach.
     Therion had heard Vengar's signal, yet had delayed while gathering 
energy for himself...and healing some of the hurts on the few troops.  
If they were to survive, they would need to be in peak condition.

     Hugh replied, "Well, we're down to just two...we have a middle 
priced room, to the left of the stairs;  with a window that faces east.  
And, we have a suite;  large, a few touches of luxury...it's own small 
fireplace.  Which would you prefer?"
     Noticing the empty mug, he continued, "Care for another ale?  
Perhaps you'd like something to eat as well?"
     Niari cast a thankful glance at Hugh and said, "Another ale would 
be welcome to this black pit of a stomach I'm cursed with.  And a good 
hot meal would compliment it nicely."  While speaking, the dusty warrior 
reached into a small pouch at her waist and pulled out a small red 
gem...it looked very deep in color, probably a ruby worth about a 
month's pay in this town.  Niari lifted her armored arm over the bar and 
placed the ruby directly in front of Hugh keeping her first finger on 
the stone.  Her eyes raised and rested on Hugh's face, absorbing his 
image.
     "This for the smaller room with the East window.  I'm not a fancy 
woman and a good lice-free bed will be fine enough for me," replied the 
tried woman.  "I'll need the room for up to a week.  I'm looking for 
work as a mercenary.  As soon as I find a deed worthy of my time, I'll 
be on my way.  If I leave tomorrow, you can still keep the gem..." At 
this, Niari lifted her finger from the gem and gazed around the room.  
Spotting a table just vacated, she said, "I'll be over there," to Hugh 
and hoisted her saddle back on her shoulder.  Turning suddenly back to 
face Hugh, she gave a faint grin and said, "Thanks."
     Hugh certainly had no problem with this deal!  He commented, "You 
don't need to worry about 'extra inhabitants' in the bed...there are 
enough down-on-their-luck mages willing to cast a few spells in exchange 
for lodging and food that pests leave the rooms immediately.  And, the 
gem is clearly worth enough that your meals will be included..."
     Aquiring the table, she grabbed one of the chairs and hoisted her 
dusty saddle into another.  Her scabbard knocked against a tall, 
imposing patron.  Grumbling an apology and silencing the threat of 
combat with one "don't even try it when I'm this tired" look, Niari 
settled into her chair and listened for conversation which might 
interest her.  The musician tonight was rather good and Niari waved at 
the serving woman to send her an ale.  It was difficult to get the 
woman's attention and Niari was VERY hungry.  The beer-stained table was 
starting to look tasty.  Maybe with some salt?  Hmmm...
     Hugh made his way over to the table, while Sera did her best to 
take care of some of the other thirsty patrons...a flagon of ale is duly 
placed before Niari.
     To appease her appetite before she got angry, Niari opened a pouch 
of herbs and papers, rolled a smoke and lit it with a subtle wave touch 
from the ring on her right hand.  The pungent, pleasant smell of cloves 
and other unplaceable scents filled the air...
     Hugh said to Niari, "And would you care for anything to go with 
your drink?  Steak with some dragon-pod sauce perhaps?  Roast beef?  
Dragon breath chili?  Or..." Hugh grinned, "...perhaps a warm cinnamon 
roll, fresh from the kitchen, with some butter melted on it?"
     Niari fixed Hugh with a hungry gaze.  "My friend, bring me one of 
everything but start with the food that's the fastest to prepare.  I 
need food NOW.  Perhaps a few of those cinnamon rolls and a slab of 
butter on the side..."
     Hugh grinned...if Niari was hungry, she had made a good choice!
     Hugh smiled and descreetly looked at Niari's form.  Even wearing 
field plate, the woman seemed slightly built.  "Good metabolism," 
thought Hugh to himself and headed to the kitchen to prepare a one-woman 
feast.  The ruby given to him earlier would suffice for many such meals 
if Niari desired it as well as the week's room rental.
     As he turned, Niari calls, "And friend, if you know or hear of 
anyone needing a battle-hardened warrior for a good cause, please send 
them my way..."  At that, Niari, turned her attention back to her newly 
received mug of spiced ale and sipped it lovingly...
     Which Hugh would be glad to do..he hadn't noticed any new 
adventures just yet, but the map of the forest he had gotten from Maxon 
made him feel like one was going to come up soon!  He grinned and said 
"Of course!  And I have a feeling you'll soon be called upon!"
     Lulu was busy fixing the steak, browning the potatoes, and steaming 
the vegetables as Hugh retrieved one of the cinnamon rolls.  Already 
warm, it started melting the large slab of butter he placed upon it!  
The cinnamon roll was (like it's bretheren) huge..it's diameter was 
enough to fill a dinner plate, and extend slightly over the sides.  
Fully three inches thick (at it's thinnest!), the roll was aromatic with 
yeast, cinnamon, and other spices; and, just the right amount of sugar 
icing!  Hugh served it to Niari with a flourish, assuring her the steak 
would soon be done!

     Lorendil looked across the main room at the Inn in search of some 
types that the Quiet One had described to him.  There was certainly no 
shortage of fighting types, but none that really seemed to click.  Of 
course, Lorendil himself could have easily provided the services he was 
seeking, but he didn't like to demean himself with such "dirty" work.  
Besides, such blatant and outright killing on such a massive scale just 
wasn't his style!
     Ah, but wait!  Who is that over there?  She appears to be 
interesting!  And did you see the size of that gem she gave Hugh?  
Apparently, she gets paid handsomely for her work.  That would seem to 
indicate that she is very good at what she does...just the kind of 
talent the Quiet One said he needed.  And the fact that his friend the 
Strong One (some sort of Baron, did he say?) had sufficient funds to 
cover even the highest of fees seemed to indicate a match.  And, as if 
things couldn't get any better, did I not hear her tell Hugh that she 
was a mercenary?
     Lorendil rose from his chair, his rich robe gently flowing about 
his form, giving him a very regal air.  He smoothly strode over to the 
table where Niari was sitting, catching her eye just as he arrived.  She 
looked up at him as he bowed politely.  Straightening, he began to 
speak.
     "Good evening, m'lady.  If I may, I must compliment you on this 
night.  You carry yourself as a very skilled and accomplished warrior.  
I have been in contact with some...associates...who are in need of 
services that I believe you are very capable of providing.  They are 
willing to pay very well indeed, if the skill is of the highest quality.  
Pray, may we discuss the particulars over a some of the house's finest 
wine?"
     As he concluded, Niari thought she saw a benevolent twinkle in 
Lorendil's eye.
     Niari focused on the stranger's face as he spoke.  His words were 
carefully chosen and filled with a noble aire.  This was obviously a man 
of rank in society...or at least, he considered himself to be.  He had 
called her "m'lady" and was either being polite or trying to win her by 
flattery.  Niari's eyes narrowed slightly.  She didn't like flattery...
     Lorendil was paying close attention to Niari as he spoke to her and 
she replied, watching her facial expressions and gestures in an attempt 
to guage the person.  He noticed that her eyes narrowing.  "Curious," he 
thought.  "Have I done something to offend her already?"
     "Please, take a seat and join me..." Niari spoke in a dry voice 
that contained a hint of interest.  "I am just about to eat.  If you do 
not mind, we will speak of the subject over a hot meal."
     "That is well," answered Lorendil as he took a seat beside Niari.  
"Forgive me, but I have already dined.  But by all means, please, I do 
not wish to deprive you of your nightly sustenance.  As I understand it, 
Hugh employs a chef of fine talents."
     Niari waited for the stranger to sit, evaluating his movements for 
any hint to the kind of man now before her.  As he settled into a chair 
across the table from her, Niari took a pull at her ale.  Deliberately 
swallowing, Niari said, "First, my lord, if you please, I'd like your 
name.  I am called Niari by my father."
     Lorendil noticed how Niari's eyes were following him closely, and 
he laughed to himself about how they were each carefully scrutinizing 
the other.  Then, in answer to Niari's words, he thought, "'By my 
father'?  Why the distinction?"  Aloud, he replied, "Well met, Niari!  I 
am known as Lorendil."
     Niari nodded in recognition and continued, "Secondly, I will advise 
you that I will not work for the needs of the unjust.  I must agree to 
the manner behind the deed you mean to impress upon me or no deal will 
be struck between us.  Thirdly, there will be no lies between us.  I 
will be honest with you and you will tell me your story in truth.  I 
have a knack of seeing dishonesty." At these last words, Niari's steel-
grey eyes flashed a small warning.  Lorendil could feel the intensity of 
her gaze.  He could tell she meant the words she spoke in all sincerity 
and was in no way meaning to insult him.
     Lorendil found himself backpeddling at the suddenness and 
directness of Niari's words.  He was impressed!  A person who had strong 
convictions and stood by them was always the type that earned Lorendil's 
respect.  Her directness also saved a great deal of time and effort in 
decyphering what was really being said...there were no hidden meanings 
or vague assertions to wade through.  Finally, his trained voice showing 
a hint of a crack as he recomposed himself from Niari's directness, he 
said, "Why, of course.  I would not associate myself with anything that 
was not just, nor would I consider perjuring myself to someone that I 
may come to rely on for my life, if worse came to worse."
     "Well, since you choose to stay," spoke Niari, leaning back in her 
chair.  "Tell me more of these services I am to perform..." and waved to 
Sera to come get their drink order...
     Niari, now finished with her ale, ordered additional food for her 
guest and sunk her teeth into the steaming cinnamon bun.  As the rich 
flavor filled her senses, Niari's eyes rolled slowly back and closed for 
a moment, savoring the sweetness of the hot pastry.
     Swallowing, she spoke, "Thank you Hugh, you are truly a good man.  
And you obviously know the way to a woman's heart!  I look forward to 
the rest of the meal."  Niari finished her speech and thrust the buttery 
treat into her mouth once again, sighing happily and nodding at Lorendil 
to continue his explaination of the mission at hand...
     Lorendil then began to explain the situation that Therion and 
Vengar currently found themselves in.  He explained that Gurlith was 
raiding the countryside, and that the two were waging a valiant if not 
doomed campaign against him.  He also described Vengar's hesitance to 
the use of mercenaries, and the reasons behind them.  This was the 
information that Vengar had told him.  He did not know of (and as such 
did not convey) the reasons behind Gurlith's raid into Chadwick, nor of 
the discoveries that Therion and Vengar had made while they were inside 
Gurlith's mind.  He finally concluded with,  "And so, they have 
contacted me in an attempt to seek the finest quality assistance that 
can be found.  Looking about the Inn, I thought that you looked the 
part.  Would you be interested in lending your skills in support of my 
friends?"
     Niari listened as she devoured the cinnamon bun brought to her by 
Hugh.  Lorendil's story churned in her mind as a strange incidence.  Her 
military brain brimming with questions, she took a deep breath and 
launched into a barrage of inquiries inspired by experience with such 
raids from her own past...
     "Lorendil, you certainly have my attention but I must ask you to 
fill in some of the gaps if you can.  I need to know when exactly these 
attacks began in Chadwick?  Was Gurlith accounted for at that time or 
were the Orcs attacking in seemingly sporadic. unorganized groups?  At 
last account, were the Orcs attacking in force moving in a direct line 
or hitting various locations?  Did they appear to have a purpose other 
than to spread panic through the people?  Were they looking for 
something?" Niari paused to drain her tankard and then continued.
     As Niari was taking a drink, Lorendil pondered these questions.  
They were very specific, and this, to him, was a good sign:  she knew 
her trade well.  But before he could even formulate an answer, she 
continued.
     "Why had they not attacked in the past?  Where did they come from?  
Did they seem to be coming from a particular direction?  Was the group 
composed wholly of Orcs?  What was their level of military skill?  What 
were their tactics?  You say they are about 200 strong at the current 
time.  What is the strength of the soldiers of Chadwick?  What kind of 
defenses does the barony employ?  Are there at least weaponsmiths in the 
city that can supply weapons for residents I can train?  Does the Baron 
have any alliances that he can call upon without surrendering his own 
lands in supplication to a higher lord?  Do you require me to hire you a 
force of mercenaries?  This mind mage you speak of under the employ of 
the Orcish force...is he an Orc as well?  What is his skill level as 
compared to the Baron?  Can you tell me of the terrain of the area so 
that I may think on a plan of attack and perhaps predict future 
attacks?"
     "I need this information and more if I am to be of help to you." 
finished Niari and waved to Sera for another ale and wine for her 
companion.  "A reliable map of the area would help immensely"
     All the while Niari was posing her questions, Lorendil was nodding, 
and was trying to make a mental note of all the questions she asked.  
Many of them he did not have the answer to!  It was clear that he would 
have to contact the Quiet One again.  Perhaps, the Strong One could join 
the refrain, and somehow bring Niari into the melody as well?  A much 
better situation than trying to relay the information from mouth to 
mouth to mouth.
     Niari sighed and shook her head.  "I would like to help you but 
before we go further, we must discuss terms.  I become carried away at 
these times.  I forget myself.  My fee may be split between now and the 
time I arrive in Chadwick.  I'll need to buy a number of supplies in the 
morning, including a good horse, if we are to leave in time to aid your 
benefactor.  I'm hopeful that we can arrive at an arrangement before the 
end of this meal, as I am very tired and require a warm bed and a long 
sleep."  A smile flitted over Niari's features and was gone.
     Fixing Lorendil with her grey stare, Niari leaned further back in 
her chair and awaited a response from the man, noting for the third or 
fourth time how unusual he looked.  There was definitely a reek of 
underlying power about the man.  Niari had felt the strangeness before 
but usually only from an enemy.  It was a wrongness...Niari composed her 
thoughts and forced her mind to focus on the content of Lorendil's 
words, now pouring from his open mouth...
     "Well, m'lady, the questions you asked are very specific indeed, 
and I am sorry to report that I have only the most general description 
of the situation.  However, I believe that I can contact my associates, 
and have an answer very soon.  As for payment, I'm sure an equitable 
arrangement can be found.  While I may not be able to help you with your 
supplies, I think that a horse may not be as necessary as you might 
think," and with that, Lorendil smiles broadly in the manner of someone 
who knows something that the person they are talking to doesn't.  "Let 
me simply say that I can arrange transportation to our destination."
     Sera returned with the drinks, and Lorendil thanked her and took a 
slow sip from his wine glass.  Pausing momentarily with the liquid in 
his mouth, he savored it before swallowing.  "Oh, this is definitely the 
finest wine I have had in ages!  Now then, if you will allow me, I shall 
try to retireve the answers you were seeking."
     Niari nodded, expecting the man to rise from the table and depart.  
He did not.  Instead, Lorendil closed his eyes, and to Niari, appeared 
to be concentrating, though his body was relaxed.
     Lorendil was quickly at the place where he had last talked to 
Vengar.  There was no sound coming from him or from Therion.  Lorendil 
called out to the fighter as he began the melody that was Vengar's 
mindscape.
     Gradually, the seascape that was characteristic of Vengar's 
mindscape came into view.  Lorendil saw Vengar standing on the beach, 
and beside him was Therion!  What luck!
     Lorendil approached Vengar and greeted him, saying, "Hello, Quiet 
One.  I have contacted someone I think might be of service, but she has 
a number of questions that she would like the answers to, and I could 
not provide them.  Here, I believe I can recreate them now."
     A distant voice began to speak, quietly at first, and then gaining 
in volume.  It was the voice of Niari, and it was asking the questions 
she had posed to Lorendil at the Inn just a few moments before.
     Therion arrived at the beach, and greeted Vengar warmly.  Sensing 
the rapport he seemed to have with the great dragon, Therion listened to 
some of the questions bubbling up...he quietly made the answers to some 
of the questions available...
     Niari's voice began.  "Lorendil, you certainly have my attention 
but I must ask you to fill in some of the gaps if you can.  I need to 
know when exactly these attacks began in Chadwick?
     A few very small raids seemed to begin a year ago...yet Soros, 
steward of the region, did little about the matter, so it got worse...
     "Was Gurlith accounted for at that time or were the Orcs attacking 
in seemingly sporadic, unorganized groups?  At last account, were the 
Orcs attacking in force moving in a direct line or hitting various 
locations?  Did they appear to have a purpose other than to spread panic 
through the people?  Were they looking for something?"
     These were good questions...it seemed as if Gurlith *_had_* changed 
the nature of the raids.  And, as for what the orcs were after, it could 
either be random booty...or to spread panic.  At this time, the answer 
seemed indeterminate...
     "Why had they not attacked in the past?  Where did they come from?  
Did they seem to be coming from a particular direction?  Was the group 
composed wholly of Orcs?  What was their level of military skill?  What 
were their tactics?"
     The reason they hadn't attacked before was Therion...when properly 
rested, with all of his equipment at hand, a small raiding party of orcs 
never even made it to the outposts...
     "You say they are about 200 strong at the current time.  What is 
the strength of the soldiers of Chadwick?  What kind of defenses does 
the barony employ?
     Soros was supposed to keep the defenses strong;  however, it seemed 
unlikely that the 1,000 men-at-arms were available, at least according 
to the lieutenant.  Why the steward had ignored Therion's wishes was 
another question.
     "Are there at least weaponsmiths in the city that can supply 
weapons for residents I can train?"
     Alas, no.  Chadwick made most of it's revenue through trade...
     "Does the Baron have any alliances that he can call upon without 
surrendering his own lands in supplication to a higher lord?"
     Not really...while Therion pursued mind magic, he had not played 
the games of alliance and going to Court...
     "Do you require me to hire you a force of mercenaries?"
     Yes!  And there is adequate money to pay them well...
     "This mind mage you speak of under the employ of the Orcish 
force...is he an Orc as well?"
     No, he is a human man...
     "What is his skill level as compared to the Baron?  Can you tell me 
of the terrain of the area so that I may think on a plan of attack and 
perhaps predict future attacks?"
     His skill level is less...yet he has considerable raw power;  and, 
he is ruthless in it's application.  The terrain is plains, with rolling 
hills, some trees and streams, but no significant impediments to troop 
mobility.
     With the last of Niari's questions answered, Lorendil said, "I hope 
this has been an adequate means of relaying the good woman's questions.  
It seemed much better than if I were to use my own voice."
     Therion smiled and agreed...he was glad he had joined the 
conversation!
    Niari's voice chimed in once more.  "I would like to help you but 
before we go further, we must discuss terms."
     Therion replied, "Please, name you terms...if we come to an 
arrangement, I can see to it that payment is credited efficiently..."
     Lorendil answered, "Very well, Strong One.  I shall pass this 
information to Niari, and return with a reply.  There should be no need 
to end your song, as I shall rejoin the chorus shortly."  Lorendil's 
dragon form again turned out to sea, and was quickly lost from view.
     Vengar was about to explain to Therion how Lorendil perceived his 
mindscape, but seeing the face upon the mindmage, he concluded that 
Therion was already aware of the many interpretations that other beings 
had of his skills.
     Back at the Inn, Lorendil slowly opened his eyes, and turned to 
look at Niari.  She was already working on the ale that Sera had brought 
to the table.  He began to relay the words that Therion had spoken to 
him, and Niari was able to tell that, at times, Lorendil's voice seemed 
not to be his own.  Once he finished, he asked her, "I hope this 
provides the information you sought.  If you would but name your terms, 
I believe we can arrive at an agreement."
     There was a distant look in Lorendil's eyes, as if he were there at 
the Inn but yet not there.
     Niari carefully watched Lorendil's face as she gorged on the 
boutiful, delicious food that had been served while the man was in his 
apparent trance.  Mind links had been used in her own people's battles 
to relay  messages of oncoming troops and much needed supplies.  Since 
not all of their neighbors had use of the same skills, Niari had seen 
the benefits of this mind magic put to good use.
     Clearing her throat, Niari responded to the final words of the 
sometimes strange voice coming from Lorendil's mouth.  "As I said 
before, you have indeed peaked my interest, my lord, Lorendil," Niari 
smiled grimly.
     "As for my terms, since they have been left up to me, shall we say 
that I will first need a good horse.  Since your master deems it 
necessary to acquire a mercenary force, I will need funds with which to 
purchase a handful of good men.  I made the acquaintance of a warrior 
clan to the South of here during my travels.  They can most likely spare 
about 45 men.  I believe they will be adequate to your needs since you 
already have a troop of soldiers within the barony.  They are somewhat 
rough, these men, but their skills are adequate and they are battle-
ready.  They know of me and my people and I believe they would follow me 
if properly motivated.  I would like to offer them ten gold a head to 
get their attention and 50 gold a head when the conflict is over.  This 
amount of money would keep them comfortable for a month of battle if 
necessary.  I will guarantee their professionalism in this conflict on 
my own honor.  If any of the citizens of Chadwick are harmed by one of 
the men I hire, you can hold me personally responsible...and I will hold 
those men responsible as well!"  Niari's grey eyes flashed.  "If you can 
get 450 gold coins to me by the morrow, I will go into the market in the 
morning, find a horse and ride out to them before the sun hits it's 
crest in the sky."
     Niari, finally sated on the golden potatoes, rich broiled meats, 
tasty vegetables and buttered rolls, lifted her mug of ale and took a 
healthy gulp.  Mug in hand, Niari's right arm swept out in a graceful 
arc.
     "As for my fee," she continued, "I will ask nothing but the horse 
to start.  When we have defeated the marauders, however, I will ask you 
to supply me with a new sword made by the Baron's own smith and 1,000 
gold of my own..."
     Niari finished her speech and raised the mug to her lips, draining 
the rest of the ale.  Using the gesture to hide her concentration, Niari 
did the math in her head.  She figured 200 to 300 for the horse, 2,700 
total for the mercenary force of 45 men and, of course, the 1,000 for 
herself.  The Baron would have to supply close to 4,000 to save his 
Barony.  
     Niari placed the mug down in front of her with a thump and looked 
Lorendil staight in the eyes to gage his response to her offer.  Her 
face was calm and emotionless as if she had done this a thousand times.  
Inside, she hoped the baron was used to dealing with high-caliber 
warriors who demanded hefty fees for their services and, if necessary, 
their lives...such a man would be worth fighting for.
     As Therion listened through the mind links to Niari, he gathered 
that he needed to make 3,000 in gold available now, with a further 1,000 
and a sword upon success...all things considered, it was a reasonable 
deal.  And, it would be easy enough to take care of.  Therion excused 
himself from the conversation, and his physical body awoke.
     He took a small, silver square from beneath his clothing, as well 
as a stylus, and wrote upon it.  Far away, in Montfort, a message was 
received....

     Marco had received Therion's message;  the 3,000 was easily dealt 
with, for Therion kept considerable funds available in demand deposits.  
The funds were gathered, each gold piece stamped with the Eagle of the 
Republic on one side, and the Bank's name and the date of minting on the 
other.  A gold piece was slightly more than 6 grams (a quarter ounce, 
actually), and so the entire amount would equate to nearly 47 pounds;  a 
sum large enough to suggest 'special precautions'.  $300,000 National 
Dollars was *_definitely_* enough for special precautions!
     The coins were placed in heavy canvas pouches, 500 coins to a 
pouch, with these six pouches placed in a larger brown leather knapsack.  
A full Limpia team was assembled, with Enrico leading them.  Heavily 
armed, they were ready to take on any enemy that might appear.  A 
courier carried the knapsack.
     Marco and the 11 troops, along with several off-duty city watch 
enjoyed an uneventful trip to the Inn.  Arriving, Marco, Enrico, and the 
10 troops entered the Dragon's Inn.  Seeing Niari at her table, as 
described, he and Captain Enrico approached.  
     Marco smiled and said "Niari, Therion has an affirmative response 
to your terms."  At his gesture, the courier placed the rather 
nondescript brown leather knapsack upon the table...

     Therion leaned back, smiling, and relaxed. Soon, his body was 
asleep, but his mind was awake.  He walked back along the beach, joining 
Vengar and the others....
     Niari had watched the rather large group of men enter the Dragon's 
Inn and proceed directly to her table.  Having just made her offer to 
Lorendil, Niari hoped this wasn't an entourage of some great lord come 
to request her services.  She hated turning down people that obviously 
had money.
     Funny she should think of that..
     As the leather knapsack was dropped on the table in front of her 
with a resounding thud, the words of the closest member of the group 
descended upon her brain.  "Efficient people, these Northerners!" though 
Niari, impressed.  Looking up at the well-dressed man who had spoken, 
she returned his smile, glanced at Lorendil who was slowly coming out of 
his dream state.  Slipping back the brass catch on the flap of the 
knapsack, Niari slid back the cover and peered into the depths.  She 
reached in and touched one of the sacks and felt the rounded edges of 
cold metal disks against her fingertips.
     "Very impressive," she thought to herself again, a tight smile 
still playing on her lips, "and terribly foolish.  Hopefully," she 
continued in a quick mental note, "there is no one here with a desire to 
rid me of this obvious payment." Niari resolved to remember the faces of 
everyone in the bar just in case.  In her experience, this kind of 
display always meant trouble.  Niari took a deep, calming breath and let 
it out slowly, her eyes rising to the proud face of the courier.
     "Well," spoke Niari to the man,"by the size of this pouch, I will 
assume that everything is in order.  I thank you." she finished watching 
the courier and his men nod and turn to leave.  They strode purposefully 
out of the Inn and the door closed behind them.  It would have been 
useless for her to say anything anyway.
     Turning to Lorendil, Niari said, "Well, my Lord Lorendil, it 
appears that we have a deal.  I will not, of course, be taking all of 
this," she stopped, waved in the direction of the knapsack, and 
continued, "on my *_solo_* ride into the hills.  Perhaps you would be 
willing to keep most of it until I return?"  Her voice lowered even 
further.  "I trust you have means of keeping it unmolested and in your 
possession despite the fact that everyone in town will now know that we 
have it?"  
     Niari hoped that the slightly incredulous tone in her voice was not 
offensive to the man.  Such displays of wealth in her time had been 
saved for inside castle walls where it could be reasonably protected.  
With the amount of creatures and men of strength and power within this 
Inn alone, Niari knew she would have a difficult ride tomorrow and 
resolved to oil and sharpen her sword before going to sleep tonight!
     Lorendil was as impressed with the expediency that Therion had made 
his payment to Niari as she was.  They had merely been engaging in a few 
moments of small talk when Marco's agents had arrived with the coinage.  
It appeared to have taken Niari by surprise, as her actions indicated 
that the expedient payment was not part of her plan.  Lorendil thought 
that even so, it could only serve to further express the earnestness 
with which the Strong One was requesting Niari's services.
     After Niari requested that Lorendil take custody of the large 
payment that was now gracing their table, he smiled gently to her and 
said, "Of course! I believe that I have a place where you can rest 
assured that your payment shall remain safe."  With that, he lifted his 
arm and reached for a place in the air above their table.  When his arm 
was fully extended, he paused and then slowly retracted it.  There 
suddenly appeared in his hand a small figurine of a dragon with its 
wings outstretched.  It was made of beautifully polished silver, with 
the details of the wings and body highlighted with inlaid gold.  The 
creature was richly adorned with fine jewels of all kinds, but most 
noticeable were the pair of rubies that were in the place of the 
figure's eyes.  They were of the deepest red.  Lorendil brought the 
figurine closer and caressed it with his eyes full of affection and 
nostalgia.
     "This was given to me by a very dear friend," said Lorendil, his 
voice cracking slightly at the last words.  Niari could see that there 
was a tear forming in Lorendil's eyes.
     Clearing his throat abruptly, Lorendil quickly jumped back to the 
here and now.  Turning the dragon figure in his hands as he looked into 
Niari's eyes, he said, "This is extremely important to me, and I would 
not trust it to even the closest of friends.  I have created a small, 
transdimensional space where I keep the my most important possessions.  
No one, and I mean absolutely no one, has access to it.  If I were to 
die, the contents would be lost forever.  The safety of anything placed 
within is uncategorically guaranteed.  I believe that this will be quite 
sufficient for the safe-keeping of your monies."
     Lorendil again stretched his arm over the table.  The figurine 
disappeared as unexpectedly as it had appeared, and Lorendil brought his 
arm back to his side.  He again fixed his gaze on Niari in anticipation 
of her answer.
     Niari's eyebrows had developed a tendency of raising unexpectedly 
since her entrance into the Dragon's Inn.  She noticed it was happening 
yet again.  The man named Lorendil had produced a dragon figurine from 
thin air which was of inestimatable value...Niari, amazed that people in 
this land were not hounded by brigands and ruffians of every size and 
color, forced her expression into a less excited state.  The North was 
definitely a different place than anything she had seen in her travels.
     Clearing her throat, another habit she was developing this night, 
Niari spoke carefully.  "Well, my Lord Lorendil, to be prefectly honest, 
if you die, the figurine would hardly be of value to me.  However, I 
suppose I will have to indulge myself in a little faith and trust you 
will be here when I return."  She smiled as warmly as she knew how at 
the tall man across the table from her.
     Lorendil laughed at loud, his head rolling backwards over the edge 
of the chair, and then back again.  "My dear Niari!  I assure you that I 
have every intention of *_not_* dying anytime in the near future!  And I 
can also assure you that I have the capabilities to insure that."  Ah!  
But if only she knew his true state...better to keep that buried lest 
there be wandering mindmages!
     Reaching into the pouch, Niari pulled out one of the sacks and 
closed the catch.  She pushed the pouch across the table to Lorendil.  
Leaning back in her chair, Niari asked, "Perhaps you could tell me where 
I might find a reputable dealer of horse flesh in this town.  I'd like 
to rise with the sun and ride as soon as possible tomorrow.  Your Lord 
may be in trouble even as I lounge here recovering from dinner."  
Smiling and patting her armored stomach, Niari looked at Lorendil for a 
response...
     Lorendil looked long at the pouch, his expression clearly 
indicating that there was great mental processes underway in his mind.  
He then looked up at Niari and said, "There, I think I have made the 
necessary arrangements!"  With that, he slid the pouch to the side of 
the table.  But before it went careening over the side, it vanished as 
if being pushed through a window...from each person's perspective, there 
was a line beyond which the pouch could not be seen.  With Niari's 
payment safely tucked away, Lorendil aimed to answer her other questions 
to the best of his ability.
     "With regards to the equine market, I'm afraid I can offer no 
solution," began Lorendil.  "Not only am I a relative stranger in these 
parts, but I rarely use horses as a means of travel.  I prefer a more 
direct method.  But I sense that you would be more comfortable seeing 
the miles between you and your destination, so I would suggest that you 
carry your request to the good bartender...he seems to be a wealth of 
useful information."
     Lorendil nodded in Hugh's direction, then added, "If you will be 
departing at dawn and traveling by horseback, then we shall meet when 
you arrive.  I shall see you off in the morrow, then arrive there 
myself.  If there is no other business that requires attention, may I 
wish you a good night, m'lady."
     Niari gazed in the direction of Lorendil's nod and noted Hugh busy 
at his bar.  As Loredil stood to leave, she extended her right hand to 
seal their deal in the tradition of the Southern lands...
     "With any luck, I should be able to depart by prenon (a Southern 
term for mid-morning).  I shall hope to see you then, here in the Inn."  
Niari smiled broadly at Lorendil and waved for Hugh to come to her 
table.  When he was able to break free for a moment and attend her, 
Niari asked, Hugh, "I am in need of a fine, fast steed.  Know you any 
reputable dealers in this town whom I could visit at dawn tomorrow?"
     Hugh thought for a moment and then responded, "In fact I do.  The 
brother of one of my regular patrons runs a fine establishment to the 
West of town.  He should be able to help you.  Follow the main road 
through town and then head west.  It is a large stable with a iron 
stallion for a vane atop the roof."  Seeing Niari smile in thanks, Hugh 
nodded and hustled back to the bar where men were clamoring for service.
     Niari rose from her seat, satisfied by the night's proceedings.  
She hefted the saddle on her back, nestled the coin sack under her right 
arm and made her way to her room.  The room was good-sized and warm with 
a comfortable-looking bed in the corner.  Niari closed the door behind 
her and dropped her saddle to the left of it.  The money sack she stowed 
under the bed where she could reach it if necessary.  Her sword was 
laid, oiled and sharpened, beside it.
     After removing most of her armor, Niari laid down in the bed and 
stared out the window.  The sky was a midnight blue, dark and beautiful, 
and the moon shone like a mother, proud of her children, which laid 
scattered like glittering diamonds around her.
     "My thanks to you, Kaleyha," she wispered as a slight breeze from 
the window carried her words into the blackness of the night.  "I swear 
to honor you with my deeds in the coming days."
     After several quiet minutes, Niari drifted off into a light sleep.