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[Xeen] Compendium Chapter 6 - January 1996
Xeen 6
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A short while later, a wave of anguish, shock, and (esp. Zeph) 
terror washed over her.  Concerned, she once again contacted Thai, asking 
if her assistance were required.  She received her answer in a somewhat 
more graphic manner than expected, for Cari soon appeared at the door, 
looking for a mop...
--Margart Tayti

Cari looked down at the front of her tunic and noted that it was little 
stained since she had laying face down, but her back felt damp and her 
hair was sticking to her shirt. ++I'll wash up later,++ she thought, 
going to the kitchen to get a bucket of water and a mop.
--Cathy Mosley

Draca instructed her to remain at the door, for the gore with 
which she was covered could taint the food, and fetched the mop, then the 
largest bucket available.  Into this she placed some soap and fairly hot 
water, filling it nearly to capacity (and hoping that it wouldn't be too 
heavy for Cari).
--Margaret Tayti

The slender girl took a firm hold on the bucket handle, though she had to 
shift her weight, and took the mop in the other hand.
--Cathy Mosley

*I don't feel any injuries, but is everyone all right?  You will 
require new clothing, and I have an outfit or two that should fit you... 
When you wish to clean up, come back here, and I'll give them to you.*  
--Margaret Tayti

::None were harmed,:: Cari answered, hiding the grisly images from her 
sending. ::The clothing will be appreciated,:: she answered, smiling a 
little, despite the grim business she was about to attend to. ::I'll come 
back for it later. Thank you::
--Cathy Mosley

With that, the healer returned to peeling and chopping the last 
of the vegetables, and fanned the fire near the drying meat to speed the 
process somewhat (She had started drying thin slices of venison while the 
meat was browning in the stewpot.)  She then informed Thai and the others 
that the food would be ready in just over an hour, and that she had some 
important things to discuss with them concerning her inability to _be_ 
healed.
--Margaret Tayti

After Cari washed up and began to put back on her barely cleaned clothing 
she remembered Draca's offer. She knew that the stench of fresh blood and 
burning flesh had driven her to clean water, leaving little room in her 
mind for anything else. This had effected her - worse than she expected - 
maybe because she still felt she had stepped through the threshold to the 
home of nightmares. 

She went back to find Draca and ask for the offered clothing.
--Cathy Mosley

Draca smiled at the return of the 'cleaned up' Cari, and motioned 
her inside, sending;  *You'll do for the moment, but I think you might 
want to scrub up with some soap and _hot_ water before getting 
changed...  Come on, there's a sink ready in the back.  If you require a 
curtain, I can <sends image of outstretched wing> provide one...*
--Margaret Tayti

Cari returned the smile, and sent, ::_A hot bath_ would be well appreciated.
. . . As for the curtain . ..:: Her smile widened a little, lightening 
a normally serious contenance, ::I think a warning will suffice.::
--Cathy Mosley

On her way to the table upon which her harp case rested, she 
paused to stir the stew, informing everyone that it was nearly done, and 
adding a few final herbs.  *When you're done, I'll give you two bowls, 
and you can bring some to Semareth.  It's best that we leave well fed, if 
not rested.*  
--Margaret Tayti

::The stew smells wonderful,:: Cari said, watching Draca put the herbs in 
the pot and then head for the corner.
--Cathy Mosley

She continued on toward the corner, opened the case, and 
pulled out a walnut-dyed doeskin tunic (thigh-length and sleeveless), well 
worn but still supple, matching breeches, wool socks, and a saffron-dyed 
linen shirt. Laying them over her arm, she dug deeper into the case, and  
brought forth an equally 'lived in' knee-length goatskin cloak, lined 
with rabbit fur.

*I no longer need the cloak, and I outgrew the clothing several 
years past, when I 'filled out'.  I guess I just never had the heart to 
get rid of it... I had put so much effort into tanning the hides and 
spinning the flax.  I'm glad that it now goes to someone who can use it.  
Wear it well, and if it outlives your use, pass it on to another equally 
needful of it.*

As she awaited Cari's response, she checked on the drying meat, 
and decided that some of it would have to be magically 'assisted', if 
they were to leave shortly.
--Margaret Tayti

Cari watched Draca pull the clothing from her pack, and then took it into 
her hands, gently feeling the materials. ::They're lovely,:: she sent; 
she could almost feel the love that had gone into the making of the 
garments. Cari looked at Draca with deep green eyes, and softly sent, 
::Thank you - I promise that when the time comes I no longer have need of 
them, I will pass them on.:: 

She started for the sink that Draca had mentioned, then turned and sent, 
::If you wouldn't mind - if at some point a few minutes are allowed us - 
I would like to discuss herbs with you?:: She knew that such a chance was 
unlikely, but if she had the opportunity she would enjoy those few moments.
--Cathy Mosley

Draca nodded, sending:  *Certainly.  I can understand your 
interest, given the limitations placed upon you and Semareth... I sense 
that you share his grief, if not the emptiness that accompanies it...  
Perhaps once we've reached our destination? You seem preoccupied, and I 
will first allow you to settle your mind.*
--Margaret Tayti

Cari studied Draca, and a smile that was touched by sadness came to her 
lips, ::I have always enjoyed working with herbs, but it has been a long 
time . . .the restrictions only have been recent ones.:: 

She met the other woman's eyes and added, ::I do feel for him - he has 
followed Sh'aljien all his life . . .As for me, I still cannot comprehend 
the death of a god.:: She shook her, ignoring the black hair that fell 
over her eyes, ::And it may be a while before I get things settle in my 
mind - it's probably not wise to hinge anything on that.:: She headed for 
the sink.
--Cathy Mosley

When she turned from checking the drying meat, she was pleasantly 
surprised by the change in the 'waif'.  Where she had seemed to be 
drowning in the cotton clothing she wore previously, the new outfit 
looked merely 'ample'- not quite a fit, but certainly far better.  The 
colours suited her well, too.  She smiled, and sent the girl a 'picture' 
of herself, adding:  *Quite an improvement.. it actually fits somewhat 
better than I had hoped, for it was difficult to discern your frame size 
beneath the other clothing.
--Margaret Tayti

Cari smiled shyly at the image Draca sent. ::I honestly don't remember 
when I've been in such lovely clothes or even clothes that came this 
close to fitting.
--Cathy Mosley

She turned to begin filling bowls with the stew, but when she 
placed them on the counter, Cari was gone...
--Margaret Tayti

Well after Cari had gotten a fresh change of clothes from Draca, and the 
slender woman sat waiting in the hall for the others, did she begin 
thinking of Thai's comment. She knew that she bore no resemblance to her 
kin, except for her mother's black hair; she was fine-boned and petite, 
compared to her father's and sisters' sturdy frames. She knew that out of 
malice her father, and sometimes her sisters, had called her 
"changeling." But they only said it to hurt, not because they believed 
it. That much she had read from them. If they had even half believed she 
knew she would have been killed as a young child; as it was she had no 
doubts they would have handed her to the Inquisitors, no matter what 
her parentage, just as Leathian had been. Leathian . . .surely her teacher 
would have mentioned something if she suspected Cari of having 
Faery parentage, and she had not.

Cari pulled her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees. ++No,++ 
she decided, ++None doubted I was my mother's daughter - they just wished 
I had died when the disease took her.++ The thought held no real pain for 
Cari anymore. She had had many good years with Leathian, who she considered 
her real family. And any feelings she had had for her father and sisters 
were ashes. ++Nor does it really matter,++ she added, ++Faeries are 
creatures of magic, and magic and my own powers are what I have sworn to 
leave behind so that I can follow the path of Sh'aljien.++ 
But even as she thought this, she remembered that Sh'aljien
was dead, and in the battle to come all that mattered was that they claim 
the Sword of Xeen.
--Cathy Mosley

Cari finally pushed her thoughts from the dismal course they had been 
following. Maybe her possibly being half-faery meant little, but 
becoming pessimistic before this quest could do damage. She stood up, 
deciding to find Jarrad. She had been snappish at him when she first 
arrived, and had no desire to leave that lay. Later, she decided, to talk 
to Semareth about a different meditation or mantra, to help her prepare 
for what lay ahead.

It wasn't hard to find Jarrad, since he was helping to coordinate 
activities. She waited till he had a moment free, and then sent, 
::Jarrad. . . I want to apologize for being harsh to you earlier - when I 
arrived.::
--Cathy Mosley

Jarrad's eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment, before he responded.
::It is perfectly understandable Cari, I was taunting Semareth a little, 
and I know you have feelings for him. I didn't take anythign you said amiss::
--Paul Khangure

Cari at first looked mildly embarrassed and puzzled by Jarrad's comment 
about her having feelings for Semareth, but the expression rapidly 
smoothed, and she sent, ::Thank you - but I could have found more 
diplomatic ways of defusing a possible confrontation - which fortunately 
didn't happen.:: Privately she was more than a little relieved that the 
two men seemed to have declared a truce.
--Cathy Mosley

She stood waiting his reply, looking less like a waif now that she was in 
the walnut-dyed tunic and breeches, and saffron shirt; all of which 
nearly fit her. Cari wanted to ask him if he knew why Thai had called her 
"faery child.:: She would have asked Thai, but the woman was elsewhere, 
and she knew she would find it easier asking someone she knew.
--Cathy Mosley

Jarrad saw Cari was in deep thought, and waited. If she wanted to talk, 
he was listening. Most of the preparations were ready.
--Paul Khangure

She looked up at him, and smiled a little as she sent, ::I should have 
started out with something more akin to, "I'm glad that you're alive." 
The last thing I had heard of your fate was right after I ran into you in 
the hall, when Mauq reported to Semareth that you had been killed.:: She 
_did not _ add nor show that at the time Semareth had been somewhat 
pleased. 
--Cathy Mosley

::Things got a little hectic with PJ flying off the handle and accusing 
his own deaconess of treachery. Naturally, being a good citizen, I took 
it upon myself to investigate these claims in detail, from a purely 
unbiased point of view of course.:: Replied Jarrad, tongue only mildly in 
cheek ....
--Paul Khangure

Her expression lightened, bringing some brightness to her eyes. ::Of 
course, even in the brief time I've known you, it's been obvious how 
"civic-minded" you are.:: She gave him a all-too innocent smile.
--Cathy Mosley

Cari paused for a minute, a flicker of puzzlement and concern crossed her 
fair countenance. She came to a decision and looked up at her friend with 
her large green eyes, and sent, ::Jarrad . . . would you have any idea 
why Thai would call me a "faery child?" I am no child of magic. . .. ::
--Cathy Mosley

::Perhaps it is because ....:: began Jarrad.
--Paul Khangure

The two were still conversing when Zeph and her crew of a dozen inquisitors
walked in. "Ahhh," interrupted Zeph to Jarrad. "There you are. Are we 
prepared to leave this place? And where are the rest..."
--Dave Smart

The rest are gathering their posessions, and getting some breakfast. You 
and your men are welcome to grab a quick bite before we go," answered Jarrad.

"Speaking of our departure, can you give Zephyr the location of Proctor 
Benedict's church, so he can 'port us there. This Citadel contains many 
defences, one of which means 'porting out is extremely difficult without
knowing the exact location, which changes, as part of the defences. In 
short, Zephyr, Thai or Draca are the only people able to port us out, and 
it would be best to conserv energy and make the port in one step, 
straight to Benedict's, no?" Jarrad paused briefly, "Unless of course you 
don't trust the agreement we made ..."

Jarrad waited for Zephillia's reply, wondering how she could extract 
herself from the offer, without losing face. It would look very bad to 
admit not trusting, each other ...
--Paul Khangure

As Zeph made her inquiries a few of her men began to wonder where the 
savory aroma was coming from. A few had sniffed the air with delight. It 
was early morning and their stomachs grumbled in response to the smell of
cooking. 

Strawberry who just met the small group joined in symphony. His stomach
growling a loud baritone.
--Dave Smart

Cari listened to conversation between Jarrad and Zephillia, as curious as 
Jarrad to see the High Inquisitor's answer. It would say a lot about the 
lay of the land. The comments about food from the Elven Inquisitors, and 
Strawberry's stomach, reminded Cari that Draca had asked her to take a 
bowl of stew to Semareth. And, of course, get one for herself. 

She waited for Zephillia's answer to Jarrad, but before Cari headed to 
get the bowls of stew she sent to Jarrad, ::Why "Faery?" I know now's not 
the best time, but after we leave here, it will hard to say if the chance 
will come again.::
--Cathy Mosley         

"What a gifted antagonist this man Jarrad is," thought Zeph with
a concealed smile. 

"Lack of trust?" she stated feigning damaged feelings. "No, I trust 
you Jarrad." *As far as I can throw you,* she thought fighting the 
smile that wanted release. 

"I would  be glad  to relay, to  Dryctor,  any and all 
instructions on how he can get us to Benedict's, but unfortunately 
my data will be quite useless and incomplete without any knowledge 
of our present local. Can anyone tell me where we are?" She waited 
an instant or two then continued, knowing Jarrad or Thai (if she 
were present) would be as unlikely to reveal the location of the 
palace as she was of Benedict's domain. 
  
"Perhaps it would be possible for us to teleport where we met. You 
remember where that was?" Zeph winked. "Anyways," she continued 
smoothly," we could then arrive at our final destination via one of 
our elven portals that stands ready, near to said location. Sort of 
a hop-skip-and- a-jump to get there, but it should work out fine. 
It would require no more stress than a direct route -if all points 
of travel were known," she added slyly. "What say you?"
   
While she waited for Jarrad's retort, Strawberry bent over to Cari 
and whispered, "I've been called worse things than a faery child."
--Dave Smart

She was slightly surprised that the man had "heard" Jarrad and her 
conversation, and studied Strawberry, wondering if he too was a psionist. 
She tilted her head and looked up at him, and gently sent, ::I took no 
offense at it - I'm just confused by it. For it was an odd comment to 
make.:: She didn't add that the comment had awakened childhood fantasies 
that should have stayed dead with her past; fantasies that many an 
outcast child had had -  of special parentage that would prove their 
differences were signs of a noble heritage. Instead she sent, ::We have 
not been introduced - I'm Cari.::
--Cathy Mosley

"Strange?" thought the tall man. "I hear her words but no lips move." He 
then clasped the crystal that hung around his neck and remembering its
powers, he imagined it was how he was hearing Cari.

Concentrating, he sent, ::pleased to meet your acquaintance young lady. My
name is Drake Argon, but my friends -and I hope to include you as one, call
me simply be the color of my hair.:: Then brushing a hand thru his curls, 
he said aloud, "Strawberry."  
--Dave Smart

::Strawberry, I'm pleased to meet you,:: Cari sent. A smile touched her 
lips and her eyes. ::You have to forgive me for continuing to send, but 
it is the only manner of speech I have.:: She wondered what brought such 
a gentle soul on such a dire quest, but then she remembered how 
many quiet souls whose lifes had been ripped to shreds and who were 
driven to desparate choices.
--Cathy Mosley

Jarrad didn't need to read Zephillia's mind to  hear the smile implicit 
in her words. It was enjoyable to chat with another wordsmith once in a 
while, and Jarrad was looking forward to future conversations.

"Like I said earlier, we could give you our present locale, but it is 
masked, and wouldn't make much sense. As Zephyr and Dryctor could of 
course make use of Benedicts location as they know the present locale."
Replied Jarrad, twisting Zephillia's words slightly, enough to imply 
reluctance on her part.

"Of course, I have no objection to bouncing via the plain where we last 
saw Dardt" Then Jarrad added as if in afterthought, "Dardt should be gone 
by now, it is unlikely for him to remain to trap us ... "

"As it makes you feel more comfortable, we can bounce. I'll go inform 
Zephyr and Dryctor."

Jarrad walked towards the door, anticipating Zephillia's retort.
--Paul Khangure

"If *they know the present locale*," she thought as he walked away, "masked
or not, it would be the key-" 

"Let me sequester this rogue," Legolas said angrily, burning holes into
the back of Jarrad's head with his eyes. "He will rue the day he displayed
such impertinence towards-"

Now it was Zeph who interrupted. Pulling the reigns on her soldier, she
reminded him of his oath and then added with a sly smile, "Do not fall
prey to this man Jarrad's game. He is simply a man gifted with a silver 
tongue and tends to make use of it." Then looking his way she stated 
humorously, "in anticipation of their meeting, *I* almost feel sorry for
my cousin." At this, Legolas managed to crack a wry smile, which was a 
feat in itself, never mind the self restraint of falling back and not 
carrying out his truest desire: to crush Jarrad's skull with his bare 
hands.

"Let us follow the scent and have us a breakfast." Zeph told her troops
jovially. "For who knows when such a savory delight will grace our 
presence again."

They then quickly made for the stew and waited for all to set forth on
their renewed adventure. And no, Dardt should not be waiting for us...
I hope.
--Dave Smart

Cari listened to conversation between Jarrad and Zephillia, as curious as
Jarrad to see the High Inquisitor's answer. It would say a lot about the 
lay of the land. The comments about food from the Elven Inquisitors, and 
Strawberry's stomach, reminded Cari that Draca had asked her to take a   
bowl of stew to Semareth. And, of course, get one for herself.

She waited for Zephillia's answer to Jarrad, but before Cari headed to   
get the bowls of stew she sent to Jarrad, ::Why "Faery?" I know now's not
the best time, but after we leave here, it will hard to say if the chance
will come again.::                                                       

::Because of your looks, and the way you charmed Semareth, probably. It 
would need Faery help to befriend that man:: Sent Jarrad, jabbing a little.
--Paul Khangure

She refrained from giving a mental "sigh." ++I can hardly expect Jarrad 
to have different opinions after only one day of a truce with Semareth,++ 
she thought to herself. And she knew that Semareth, under any 
circumstances, was not an easy man to fathom. 

She cocked her head to one side and looked up at Jarrad. She sent, 
::You're in fine fettle today, and after sparring with Zephilia
 I doubt I'll have a straight answer out of you.:: She smiled a little to 
soften her words. ::Sh'aljien may have had a part in Semareth's reasons 
for saving me, but I have my doubts about Faery.::

She sent to him, as she started for the kitchen. ::I need to 
get some food. Best get yourself, and Thai, some stew before Zephilia's 
Elves hit. They looked _extremely_ hungry.:: 
--Cathy Mosley

Semareth returned from his rooms with a new cloak, dark grey as the last 
one had been. 

He draped it carefully over his shoulders till it covered his chainmail, 
and moved his sword so it hung from the left-hand side of his belt. This 
was a different sword he carried, smaller than the cavalry sword he so 
cherished, and thus much more deftly handled. 

He sat silently on a bench, and began sharpening his sword with long 
sweeps of a whetstone which he had produced from his beltpouch. He waited 
for the others to complete their travelling preparations, and muttered 
to himself, remembering conversations long past.

"...and 'tis not the sword itself which is a piece of art", he began, 
glancing down at his dull weapon, "rather, 'tis the act of a sword being 
wielded that is the art, be it masterful or immature. In such ways, life 
itself is an art. It is not to be sullied by the impure powers, but 
cherished in all it's purity and simplicity. It is within the barest 
essence of human -- and I use the word loosely here -- existence that the 
most powerful of all arts is held..."

He cared not if anyone listened in on his mutterings and pronounced him 
mad. These were the teachings he had received as a child, and by simply 
repeating them to himself, he felt something of Sh'al's blessing enter 
him once more. He ignored the growling in his stomach, and continued 
muttering and sharpening his sword, as if chanting a mantra.
--Nick Takayama

She heard the low murmuring of Semareth's voice before she saw him, and 
she wondered if he was speaking with someone. 

As she rounded the corner,carrying a tray of two full bowls of stew, she 
found him sitting on a bench, sharpening his sword, and 
speaking in low tones to himself. She stopped, and sent gently, ::Lord 
Semareth, the stew is ready. It would be wise to eat something before we 
go.:: 
--Cathy Mosley

He looked up slowly, his eyes a swirl of black and subdued silver. The 
hand which wielded the whetstone slowed slightly as he looked her in the 
eyes.

"Thank you," he murmured quietly, and nodded as he resumed sharpening.
--Nick Takayama

Cari placed his bowl next to him on the bench, then she settled herself 
cross-legged on the floor not far from Semareth. She looked over at him 
with quiet green eyes, She had heard a bit of Semareth's murmurings 
and realized that if she felt untethered, then he must feel 
like he was floating in the middle of the void, stripped of all 
life lines.

::Lord Semareth,:: she sent, ::What prayers are needed now?:: There was 
no pity in her sending - just a sense of the need to understand,  and a 
desire to find something to anchor to. ::I would like to do what 
is appropriate in such circumstances, and to offer the proper prayers for 
our quest.::
--Cathy Mosley

Giving his sword one last glance before returning it to its scabbard, 
Semareth frowned. 

"Pray that Sh'al can hear you, where ever he may be. Pray that you might 
find the strength within yourself when things reach their most dire...", 
he looked at her, the swirling darkness of his eyes a reflection of inner 
turmoil. Then abruptly the frown faded, and he sighed.

"But I sense you wish more than cynical comments, no?" the barest hint of 
a smile appeared but briefly.
--Nick Takayama

A whisper of a smile answered his, but she said nothing. Just listened.
--Cathy Mosley

"Repeat after me", he said, then a moment later 

++Hu'nad pateran Jhivendrelan ku'dor++  the sending encroached on her 
thoughts. Obviously Semareth had no wish for the mantra to be heard by 
the others.
--Nick Takayama

She opened her mind to Semareth's sending and concentrated on the 
repetition until she had engrained it in her memory, but more she had let 
it begin to engrave itself in her heart. 
--Cathy Mosley

He waited until she had memorised it, then with a nod, he explained.

"In normal times, this is a mantra of guidance. It is the first mantra 
taught to those of 'the seeker', one I thought you might appreciate. The 
uses of it are infinite, it depends on what you seek.", he carved a 
symbol in the air between them. It reminded Cari of the metal disc 
Semareth had given her one day not so long ago.

"Between Sh'aljien and you, a promise has been made. I do not know if 
even you know what that promise is just yet, but keep it. Whether 
Sh'aljien exists any more or not, keep this promise, and his wisdom and 
spirit will live within you."
--Nick Takayama

Not even she was sure what promise she had given, except that she knew 
that she had no desire to leave the path she had chosen to walk, not even 
with Sh'al pronounced dead. 

The bowl of stew sat forgotten in her hands, except for an awareness of 
its warmness against her palms. She knew her choice would make no sense 
to anyone else, except herself and Semareth, but in truth it did not need 
to make sense to anyone else. She sent, ::Lord Semareth - I once heard 
that if just one person remembers the dead, then death's hold is not 
quite as tight, for some part of that soul lives on.:: Her resolution 
showed in her eyes. ::I will keep my promise and will remember.::
--Cathy Mosley

He picked up his bowl of stew in both hands and turned it a half-circle 
before bowing his head. He sipped quietly at it, glancing occasionally 
around him.
--Nick Takayama

She was reminded of her own dinner and lifted the bowl to her lips.
--Cathy Mosley

As everyone filed into the kitchen for their bowls of stew, Draca 
busied herself with cleanup.  The drying meat (magically assisted) had 
been put 'away' into one of the empty 'pockets' of her harp case, the 
rabbits and the remainder of the deer were hung in cold storage, and the 
pheasant and quail(2) were wrapped in sections of (magically) tanned 
deerhide, to be given to the Proctor in an effort to minimize their drain 
on his resources.  The remaining root vegetables, still in their sack, 
were set nearby, to be brought along also.

The healer set up a sink with hot soapy water so the diners could 
clean their dishes before leaving, then served herself the remaining stew 
(after the others had had their fill), set the pot to soak, and perched 
in the corner of the kitchen to gulp down her meal.  She had a great deal 
to think about..

She finally decided that some of her carefully marshalled 
reserves would be best used restoring her vocal cords to partial 
usefulness.  That way, there would be no need to waste extra energy 
should the need for communication arise at a time when she was unable to 
mindspeak without risking a tele(m)pathic link.  She knew better than to 
expend the force required for a full restoration, and besides, once 
begun, even a minimal start could be 'worked on' through standard voice 
training methods.

The merest whisper would therefore suffice.  She brought her 
hands to her throat, and concentrated, the familiar glow barely gracing 
her neck before fading.  She had used the absolute minimum of her 
hard-won personal reserves.  There remained only to test it.

She picked up what supplies she could carry, and headed out into 
the commom room.  Walking up to Jarrad, she murmured:  "Parrssels, in 
kitchen... food forrr trrip."  Her whisper was barely audible over the 
background noise, but it was all she was willing to chance.
--Margaret Tayti

Briefly wondering whether that was Draca's true voice as a wyrm, Jarrad 
shrugged the thought off. She was able to speak without telepathy, 
something which may be vital later. Grabbing a couple of the others, 
Jarrad saw that the food was distributed to all who wanted it, any 
remainders squirreled away in one place or another in the groups baggage.
--Paul Khangure

While the others finished getting ready, Thai slipped out the side door 
to the stables where Shaitan greeted her affectionately. Her stallions 
boisterous good spirits brought a smile to Thais lips. Throughout her 
young life Shaitan and her other mounts had been her constant companions. 
It would be strange to leave him behind now.

With a final rub and treat Thai retreated outside. Pale, watery light 
illuminated the courtyard for her. A fresh falling of light snow covered 
the path to the shrine outside the citadel. 

Thai glanced at the three moons to estimate the time then briskly followed 
the path. At the end sat the small shrine she had used before. This time 
instead of placing a coin on the alter she merely prayed for the safety 
of her companions. 

After a few moments Thai returned to the citadel. The Great Hall was 
beginning to fill again but she continued through the rooms to the tower 
stairs. Once on the parapet she crossed to the edge and cast the summoning.

Within minutes two dots appeared out of the winter night sky and grew 
until their true identity was revealed. The pair of giant eagles settled 
on the huge marble urns flanking the stair and turned appraising eyes to her.

With the ease of long association Thai chatted with the citadel 
custodians until the time for leaving had come. Bidding each goodbye, she 
entrusted Shaitan to their care and went below to join the others.
--Phaedra Whitlock

As everyone began to trickle into the main hall, Jarrad had them gather 
close to one end, leaving the space in the middle of the room empty. The 
space where the portal will appear.
--Paul Khangure

Semareth reclined casually against the wall near where Jarrad had 
suggested he stand, clenching his gloved hands eagerly. His sword and 
beltpouch were his only possessions, and his cloak and chainmail his only 
armor. He glanced over at Zephyllia and her elven soldiers, wondering how 
long they would accept this alliance with Jarrad and his taunts.
--Nick Takayama

Cari stood next to Semareth, holding under her arm the bundle of clothes 
that Zephyr had gotten for her. They'd need a better washing to get some 
of the blood stains out of them, but they were at least a change of 
clothes in case of emergencies.

She noted how eager Semareth seemed.
--Cathy Mosley

::If anyone has left anything, now would be an extremely good time to get 
it:: Jarrad quipped, as Zephyr began to chant under his breath, and cast 
the spell.

Zephyr used the coordinates Thai had given him, but also used the masking 
spell to ensure no-one else could duplicate his spell and work backwards 
to the coordinates. 
--Paul Khangure

The hair on the back of his neck rose as Zephyr began chanting, biting 
off the sly comment he had intended to direct at Jarrad. Magic was being 
drawn from around him, from the fabric of existence. The feeling made him 
distinctly uneasy, and he looked at Cari to see if she noticed anything 
awry. He imagined Zephyr as a recepticle for this energy, casting out 
most, but some remaining, becoming part of him... no - _replacing_ some 
of him. The thought was not a pleasant one.
--Nick Takayama

She felt the initial build up of pressure in the room as Zephyr began to 
cast; the air taking on a restless edge. Her expression showed that she 
was aware of a change in the atmosphere, but that she showed no concern.

Magic did not frighten her, though it wasn't until she had arrived in 
Montfort that she had been around so many magic-users. Her old teacher 
had had a few simple spells, but Leathian had been more skilled in the 
mind talents and focused on teaching her to be dream healer. What Cari had 
found was that she feel the use of magic, and was still puzzled why the 
magic-nullifying shackles had made her feel ill.

The atmosphere stretched to nearly breaking point as the portal came into 
existence.
--Cathy Mosley

It was not as large as the one Thai had created, but then Zephyr was 
not as powerful. The 8' by 4' doorway shaped portal shimmered in flux for 
a couple of seconds, before stabilising.

"Dryctor, you head first in case Dardt is still en locale, you have a 
spell which may deal with him.  Semareth and Cari next, then Zephillia and 
her ... legionnaires ... to guard the area," said Jarrad. That would 
leave sufficient forces on either side of the portal to prevent any .. 
unanticipated actions .. on the elves' part.

After all but Zephyr and Thai had entered the portal, Thai extinguished 
the fires throughout the citadel, then stepped through. Zephyr followed, 
closing the portal behind him.

The portal had been placed with extreme precision, noticed Jarrad as he 
stumbled through the other end. It would have been on ground level before
Dardt had visited. The portal hung a few inches above the surface,
in the middle of a slight depression, formed of slick, scorched 
rock. The rock had solidified since it's exposure to Dardt's fire, and 
although it was extremely slippery, Jarrad's boots provided enough grip to 
move out of the dip, withonly a little sliding.

Shortly after, Thai stepped through, stumbling a little, followed by 
Zephyr with the portal snapping closed on his heels.
--Paul Khangure

When Semareth's turn came, he glanced quickly down at Cari, then at 
Zephillia. His gaze was steady, but his irises swirled unceasingly as a 
maelstrom. It was a warning look - on the other side of this portal, 
nothing could be trusted.
--Nick Takayama

Cari caught Semareth's warning look, and sensed his growing agitation. 
She looked up at him, then nodded to indicate she accepted his warning.

Her own heart beat a faster. While they had been in the citadel 
there had been a false sense of safety, despite the arrival of Eldarion's 
zombie. But beyond began their quest. She steadied herself, reminding 
herself of the years she had lived on the edge of survival, and as she 
stepped into the portal she remembered to offer a prayer to Sh'aljien.
--Cathy Mosley

Then he stepped through the icy cold portal into a rocky landscape. The 
ground was scorched and blasted -- and many inches below the portal. As 
he stepped through, he stumbled forward, falling to one knee.
--Nick Takayama

The slender girl mis-stepped and landed hard beside Semareth, grasping at 
his arm to keep from slidding. She let go and gave him a rueful smile. 
Then got herself to her feet.
--Cathy Mosley

He stood and whirled about to face the portal as the others came through, 
drawing his blade as he waited. The temptation was -- no, that was a 
temptation he would not satisfy, though he kept his blade drawn.
--Nick Takayama

Smiling charmingly at Zephillia Jarrad said "Your turn m'dear" before 
turning, and sending a quick reminder to Zephyr, Draca and Dryctor.
::Watch her like a hawk, she may dump us anywhere."
--Paul Khangure

Looking down at his gleaming blade, Semareth sent to Zephillia and Cari.
++ Nothing is to be trusted... nothing but yourself ++
--Nick Takayama

Cari's green eyes showed her concern. Semareth's battle-readiness worried 
her. Their locale did require extreme caution, but she could almost feel 
his edginess. 

She watched Jarrad and Zephillia, with her Inquisitors, come through the 
portal, and noted the same battle edge sitting tight in their 
expressions. She also marked that most of that contained blood-lust was 
directed in their looks at Jarrad. Who, while he appeared relaxed, was 
ready for battle.
--Cathy Mosley

Jarrad drew his sword, gave the other elves a disarming grin, totally 
ignoring the galres several were giving him, and they way their hands 
fingered crossbows, then prepared to enter the portal Zephillia would 
make. It would do best to send a legionnaire first, to ensure the 
location was hospitible.
--Paul Khangure

Thai had noticed the problem growing while she'd been arranging for the 
citadel's keepers to return. If it continued she would deal with it. That 
was her job afer all, but she sincerely hoped Jarrad would stop fomenting 
trouble and leave Zephillia's people to her command. 

Outright dissension was the last thing she and Zephillia needed.
--Phaedra Whitlock

Semareth hefted his sword, and idly speculated as to the thoughts of 
Zephillia's men. He coughed -- probably much the same thoughts as he was 
having.
--Nick Takayama

All she could think of was several bucks having the misfortune of meeting 
in a forest grove; all of them pawing and ready to lock antlers in deadly 
combat. She had no doubts that Zephillia could control her people.

She sent to Jarrad, ::My friend, wariness is a wise precaution, but to 
continue to play games with people already riding the waves of 
battle adrenalin is dangerous. It will either lead to trouble within our 
own ranks, or to people too worn to think clearly when Eldarion does 
strike.::

Cari looked up at Semareth, and sent to him, ::I have always figured 
Jarrad will make a good leader one day, as he has the charisma and 
idealism for it. But at the rate he's going its a race to see whether 
Death or Wisdom will catch up with him first.::
--Cathy Mosley

Semareth scowled his response, the snarl of his lip emoting his sending, 
++You picture him as a leader? And in such a scene where the followers 
look ready to kill him?++, he scoffed.

He followed patiently as Zeph and her men led the way.
--Nick Takayama

She looked at him and sighed. ::I said "will," if he lives long enough to 
gain wisdom. He is headstrong, but no fool.:: She kept buried who else 
she thought might be a bit headstrong, but Semareth caught a glimpse of 
her mental image of several stags bugling their challenge in the deep 
woods.::
--Cathy Mosley

::I am honing their anger. They have battled long and hard, and are used 
to hating Xeen. To put an edge on their anger, then to redirect it at 
Eldarion-Xeen - that is what I do. Their anger will work for them, an 
anger built up over time, not irrational, but cold logical anger:: 
Replied Jarrad to Cari. ::I would expect Zephillia to have understood my 
aim, and whether she has or not, I will continue. I swore an oath not to 
work against Zephillia and her elves. Trust has to be earned, and there 
is little they have done to earn it. That is where I stand. ::
--Paul Khangure

Out of his entire speech, the sentence that struck Thai as the most odd 
was his comment on anger. ::Jarrad, isn't it a bit foolish to do anything 
out of anger or emotion? I know that both swordsmen and magi require a 
clear head to use their training effectively. I'd've thought that way was 
best for anyone going into a fight or living in one. You make less 
mistakes that way.::
--Phaedra Whitlock

::True::, replied Jarrad. ::I am walking a fine line between an anger 
which will focus their thoughts effectively, and a rage that will turn 
them irrational.::
--Paul Khangure

It was after she'd asked and her puzzlement was clear on her face that Thai 
realized that her own reasons for coming into the future were more 
emotional than anyone else's, elf or otherwise.

::Jarrad, Noone said to trust Zephillia and the elves. We need THEM to 
trust US. What we think doesn't matter so long as they believe we are on 
their side. That is the ONLY way Zephillia will ever take us anywhere 
near her precious Proctor Benedict, let alone give us information freely. 
As it is I've been using her crystal to monitor her actions and learn 
ore about Xeen, but I can't do it often or she'll suspect. Do you 
understand now what I'm doing? Please don't make it any harder.::
--Phaedra Whitlock
                                                                           
:: I don't know that Zephillia will ever trust us, but I will work on it. 
A sudden transition would be even more suspicious.:: Sent Jarrad, as he 
planned a way to moderate his actions in a seemingly natural manner.
--Paul Khangure

Cari looked at the plain of fused rock and dead winds. Again she felt 
like she had entered a refugees' nightmare; she had seen often such 
desolation in their dreamscapes. She understood the Elves' anger. She
 sent to Jarrad, ::We each have our own methods. Just use wisdom in 
your strategy and know when to stop honing.:: Deep emotion lay beneath
 Cari's next words, ::Believe me, Jarrad, their anger has a focus.
 I have no doubt it lays always on their heart's scars. Slips into their 
sleep. Is the hidden drive beneath each action.:: She pointed towards
 the landscape, ::What else do they have to live for?::
--Cathy Mosley

::You assume they have a purpose to live for. Perhaps they live solely, 
to spite Xeen. Or they live to protect other elves. Their anger may be 
focused, or spread widely, I am making sure. They are very close to 
breaking now, and will have to wield my words with more delicacy. Your 
observations are appreciated indeed:: Replied Jarrad, a mental smile 
accompanying the words.
--Paul Khangure

::I trust you will,:: Cari said, returning the mental smile. 
::Particularly  since we near their home and there will a few more at 
Proctor Benedict's. Perhaps by observing the situation as a whole you can 
assess the mental attitude of the Elves without risking confrontation.:: 
She knew that Jarrad was reckless, but she also knew he did have a good 
mind and could make use more subtly when he needed to.
--Cathy Mosley

Nodding to her troops they took their turn into the portal. Alas,
they were home, but thankful or happy they were not. It was as they
had left it. A nightmare of scorched and blackened debris. Life was
blasted from the scenery. A chill and lonely wind howled a welcome
as they stepped through the portals' opening onto the hardened
terrain.

"Great to be back home." Zeph said dryly to Jarrad. His antics and
flagrant mis-trust of her and her troops was beginning to wear
thin. Their word and oath was to be taken as a token of their
character and she could now see how difficult it would be for her
men to hold back any resentment towards Jarrad if he continued to
place *that* at odds. Difficult indeed.

Soon, Semareth and Cari had joined them, then others as their turns
finally came. Suddenly, as though a beacon for comical relief had
been sent forth to relieve the already intense situation
surrounding those on the dark side of the portal, Strawberry made
his awkward landing. Unaccustomed to teleportations
the man lost his footing and when he finally made it through, he
fell out, rolling on the hard ground, catching Jarrad's lower
footing. With the combination of Strawberry's momentum and the
slippery hardened surface on which the warrior stood, caused him to
tumble over his accidental assailant. It was all that Zeph and her
men could do but laugh, until the surly faced Jarrad stared back in
anger. In an attempt to make peace, Zeph extended an arm to the
fallen man.
--Dave Smart

Clasping her hand, Jarrad gave Zephillia a quick smile, quick enough so 
that no-one else near would see it. Then the surly look was back, the 
transition so quick Zephillia wasn't sure she had seen the smile.

Jarrad sent privately to Zephillia while brushing himself off, and wincing 
from the pain which shot through is leg as he put full weight on it again.
::Trust has to be earned. You have my oath not to physically harm your 
people, so long as they do not harm me. Direct their anger as appropriate::
--Paul Khangure

An understanding and appreciative nod was Zeph's response.
--Dave Smart

When all was settled and scouts returned to indicate the coast was
all clear (Dardt was no where near) the group set forth. Leading
the party was Zeph and her number one -Tel, by her side. The sun
had reached its zeanith, but for those unfamiliar with the place it
would be hard to guess that it was high noon for the grey canopy of
the sky. After what seamed hours of marching through a landscape
that seemed without any other characteristic other than desolation
an death, they reached a small clearing that resembled many of the
others they had passed through already. "We are here," stated
Legolas with a raised hand. moving slowly and with a wave of her
hand, a blueish green light appeared before her, where once was
simply a blackened tree stump. Actually her proximity to the trunk
activated the portal, not her hands or any spell, but some sort of
show had to be performed for her inexperienced audience.

"Here is the door to Benedict's" Zeph began. "It is one of many
portals my people have created in an effort to provide us with safe
passages -and I use that term loosely, for if Eldarion ever
discovers the passage, the traveller is doomed. These  passages to
and from certain areas are constantly destroyed and recreated in an
effort to keep them hidden from Xeen's eye. It is an exhausting
task."

Westron and Tenor made for either side of the now glowing portal,
mimicking un-costumed doormen. They bid for all to make haste and
assured the passage would be quick and effortless. "This way
please. Watch your head," they constantly said to the people who
filtered in.
--Dave Smart

Leaving enough time for the first elf who entred to clear the way, Jarrad 
dived in, hand on his sword. He was through, and rolling on his shoulder, 
to stand, sword half unsheathed before he had even looked around.
--Paul Khangure
          
As this went on, Zeph could observe Semareth's reluctance to enter.
In her silence, she sent telepathically, ++ Semareth...I will heed
your warning. There is much at stake. But now is the time for
trust. I understand your aversion to magic. I can furnish you with
a strong and fast steed and directions to Benedict's if this other
form of travel does not suit you. This is my sign of trust. ++
--Dave Smart

He paused as her sending reached him, and frowned. He glanced uncertainly 
at the portal, then at the vast landscape around him. Finally, he decided.
--Nick Takayama

She stayed beside Semareth waiting for him to make his choice. She could 
deal with either mode of travel.
--Cathy Mosley

Nodding to Zeph respectfully, he braced himself and stepped through, 
ducking to fit through the small portal. He felt like vomiting as the icy 
shock of the transport hit him, yet as he became aware of his 
surroundings, the feeling faded rapidly.
--Nick Takayama

Cari followed through, and felt the momentary shifts and eddies of the 
field as she stepped through to the other side.
--Cathy Mosley

On the other side of the portal were several Inquisitors waiting to welcome 
the new commers. Zeph had wisely sent one of her men ahead to warn them of 
their oncoming guests. Otherwise, things could have become quite messy.
--Dave Smart