Excuse me, but aren't you the man?

[Raelyse]

(Closed to Chripy)

“I hate traveling.”

It was a feeling that Stem Ventreas had all too often. This young gnome had joined the Grander’s Order in the hopes that he would one day become a great general of the forces armies, leading them to victory after victory with tactical masterpieces. Unfortunately, due to his stature, he had been given the unenviable position of stable hand. Recently, he was informed he would be receiving a promotion… to chariot driver. He may have had a talent and affinity for horses but this was the last place he wanted to be at the moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy driving horses, it was just that he hated driving horses attached to that chariot. For just a few feet behind him, sitting in the lap of luxury was the Grander himself, the leader of the group which Ventreas was now beginning to regret joining.

He had heard the giggles when his vocation had been determined. He had taken to heed the advice that senior members had given him. And yet, as his superior sat just behind him, his mouth constantly flapping and complaining about things that Ventreas didn’t have any control over. It was almost enough to drive any man insane.

“Can’t you go any faster?” he came again, this time louder and more filled with frustration.

“As fast as the horses and this terrain will take us Milord,” the gnome replied, trying to hide the exasperation from his tone. “I don’t want us to get into Istien with a knobbed of tire, sir.”

This journey was supposed to be a rather effortless one and one that Ventreas had made many times since he had learnt to ride a horse or drive a chariot. The prince had wanted to go to Istien University, the famed school for song bards in Raiaera, from the Grander’s Order headquarters in Erebus in the fastest way possible. This was a road that was rugged and barely used and thus the horses traveled with hesitation and the gnome had to use all of his knowledge to ensure that the wheels could take the punishment. It was a day long journey and even though the sun was setting and they were less than two hours away, Ventreas knew that the worse was yet to come.

Raelyse had taken a nap just a half hour into the chariot leaving and had only just woken up. That meant that he would have to tolerate the prince’s complaining, questioning and constant ranting for an eternity. He let go of the reins for a moment to run a hand through his sandy brown locks and sweep them from his eyes, as well as wiping the sweat from his forehead. He flicked it on the ground and quickly grabbed the reins again before the horses got out of control. These were his pride and joy, two beautiful white stallions with stamina matched only by their glimmering white manes.

“Well make it faster, whatever it is you halflings do to my horses,” Raelyse replied after a brief delay.

Ventreas sighed, though he was careful not to make it so loud as that would incur the Grander’s wrath yet again. With a soft smile to himself, he turned back to the chariot compartment, viewing the prince of Myrusia through a window.

“With all haste,” he said, with a genuine smile.

Turning back to the road, Ventreas’ attention was briefly turned to the mountains to his right, where the setting sun was spreading orange light throughout the slowly darkening sky.

“Beautiful,” the gnome murmured.

Raelyse smiled, running a hand through his hair, which seemed to shimmer more than that of the horses which transported him.

“Yes, Yes I am…”

[Chiroptera]

A hot wind swirled across the desert, kicking up a flurry of black sand that hung in the air like a cloud of maggots before falling back to the shifting dunes. There was no reprieve from the bleakness of the land. The sky overhead was the only thing on the horizon that wasn’t black, and its blue, unending expanse stretched from one side of the world to the other, interrupted only by the glowing white sun that beamed down its oppressive heat on the scarce life of the Black Desert.

Eltarri Jordel licked her dry lips and turned away from the endless hills. She looked down to the matted brown fur of the dead animal at her feet and sighed heavily, feeling the prickle of tears behind her parched eyes. She glanced involuntarily at the camel’s face and then quickly looked away with a shudder. A purple tongue protruded from rubbery lips, and once-warm brown eyes gazed balefully at her, silently reprimanding her carelessness in their cold immobility. The half-elf’s eyes pulled guiltily to the beast’s haunch, where two close-set punctures sat in the middle of an engorged inflammation that spread across the camel’s side.

With a weary sigh Eltarri straightened her spine and clasped her hands at her waist, her face settling into a somber mask as she focused her gaze on the mountains ahead, so that she could only glimpse the corpse at the bottom of her peripheral vision.

“Mae govannen, dear Yaara,” Eltarri said softly, trying to recall her Elvish. “Aa' menle nauva . . . calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle.”

With that farewell, she cast a handful of sand over the corpse and turned away, trying not to wince as another warm breeze blew the stink of the carcass into her face. Her pile of gear sat docilely before her, a burden far too heavy for the slight girl to carry on her own, especially considering that she was out of water. The warnings of leering traders haunted her as she sorted through her belongings, packing only bare necessities into a bag that she could carry. They’d told her that she wouldn’t be able to get across the desert without one of their over-priced guides. She’d assumed that they were just trying to take advantage of her and hadn’t trusted their leering, laughing faces, opting instead to buy an old camel from a crooked merchant and to set out from Valinatal on her own, following a faint path that she’d lost about half a day into the journey. Every second had been a fight against despair as the days had turned into weeks of aimless wandering, trudging through hot, dry sands during the day and sitting miserably through the cold of the night, curled up against the camel for warmth. Yaara had been her only companion through the bleak boredom of the desert. Her and the scorpions, of course . . .

“How long will it take to reach the end of the desert?” Eltarri wondered aloud. She was no longer worried about a destination, having long since abandoned her goal of finding Eluriand and the powerful wizards that were said to reside there.

One, two, three . . .

The solitude had begun to wear at her nerves, so to keep her mind occupied she’d invented a game. She would pose a question and then walk for fifty steps before answering aloud, even though her voice was hoarse and scratchy from lack of use. If she thought of an answer before time was up, she had to start counting all over again. Forty-nine, fifty. Eltarri searched her brain for an intelligent response.

“Too long.”

The strap of the girl’s bag bit into her shoulder, the over-stuffed pack jouncing awkwardly against her sword with every step. Every few minutes she glanced to her right, where a dark mountain range in the distance cut into the expanse of the sky. She’d only found the range a few days ago and had been using it as a landmark for navigation. Her eyes trailed upward when a shadow crossed over her, fallen from the wings of a bird that was circling overhead.

In a voice that croaked, Eltarri asked, “Do vultures ever try to eat things that aren’t quite dead yet?”

One, two, three . . .

[Raelyse]

Even from within his lucratively designed carriage, Raelyse was beginning to feel the heat as this gnomish driver bore deeper and deeper into the desert heat. In between dozing on and off, the prince vaguely remembered asking why they were here, why they were moving in terrain which made the previously rocky mountain road seem like a stroll across a pleasant knoll. The characteristically calm gnome had given an uncharacteristically snappy answer, that they were going the fastest way possible. Although not technically traveling in the desert, the fastest way from Erebus to Eluriand was to roll along the borders of it.

"Okay," Stem laughed slowly to himself, standing up slightly to stretch his back. "Maybe not the fastest, but it's the safest, though I doubt that I'd fight with any passion for this one if we encountered bandits on any of the other routes."

The gnome enjoyed a hearty laugh, though he had to cut it short when sand blew into his mouth. Luckily for him, that was the only discomfort for Raelyse had long closed the window that communicated between passenger and driver. He did not want the sand to land on his boots as he lied across the length of the carriage. Ventreas preferred it that way.

The next time Raelyse woke up, it was with frustration laced within every annal of his body. For the prince was... hungry. He reached underneath his seat to bring up a chest which held his stockpile of food for the journey and was dismayed to find nothing but crumbs from the bread and a thin sliver of meat from what had been a glorious slice of chicken. When he realized that the sandstorm was still buffeting his beloved carriage, his volcanic temper exploded again.

"Venteras!" the prince screamed.

No response followed, for the gnomish driver had long since disregarded anything that would distract him from the task at hand, guiding the carriage to make sure that all were safe. He could care less about his leader, but the horses and himself... there were few things Stem cared more about.

"Ventreas!" the prince repeated, this time with more venom and anger in his voice. He reached forward for the handle to pull open the window, then with a sadistic smirk, slid it all the way open. Using his spare hand and without even removing his buttocks from the seat, he thrust his hand forward and smacked the gnome's head hard.

"What?" the gnome replied, turning around and briefly losing control of the horses.

"Control the horses," Raelyse replied with a smirk, his anger lost now that he had a chance to play and drive some more sadistic pleasure.

"Yes, sir," Ventreas replied, reaching for the handle again to close the door. When Raelyse's hand reached forward again and kept it open, the gnome sighed, almost wishing his hands were free so he could cover his ears from whatever would soon fill them.

"I'm hungry," the prince said teasingly, like the child of a king, which he was of course.

"You brought enough from Erebus, I thought," Ventreas said, speaking quickly to keep the sand from gathering in his mouth.

"Evidently not," Raelyse replied, his smirk still prominent across his face. "Cook the slowest horse, I'm hungry."

Stem nearly threw up and was sure it was easily more that thought then the almost pound of sand down his throat. "Sir, I'm afraid horses taste ugly. There is one thing though..."

"Hmm?" Raelyse inquisitively asked, though he didn't really care. It was a long journey and he needed amusement when his eyes were tired from being closed for too long.

"Desert Flower," the gnome spat out, the first thing that came onto his mind. "Cactus, delicious... tastes wonderful with camel. Gnomish delicacy. I'll fix some up for you, sir... as soon as we reach better terrain."

The prince chortled back laughter before speaking, obvious sarcasm dripping with his voice. "No terrain is good terrain when you're hungry and the terrain is going to get worse the longer we go, my dear gnome. So yes, stop the carriage, enact one of those... magical barriers so I can get some sleep and when I wake up, it better be to some delicious camel cactus flower or..." Raelyse giggled and the similarity to a teenage girl was unmistakable. "I'll be eating gnome leg. I don't think you need that to drive, do you?"

The last thing poor Stem heard was the slamming of the window closed, accompanied by the raucous laughter of the prince of Myrusia and a new bunch of sand slapping him across the face.

The gnome took his anger on the horses, driving them faster for a few moments before realizing his error and slowly cooing them, slowing down the pace before bringing the carriage to a stop. He jumped off his driver's seat and stretched a bit, easing a cramp in his legs. Taking a few steps away, Stem mustered all of his mental strength to obey the stupid orders that the prince had given him. Using his magical abilities, he cast a small barrier around the horses and the carriage. It would not block powerful projectiles like shots or arrows, but it was enough to protect the animals and carriage from being buffeted by the storm. A weaker version had been used on his horses to make sure they could move at maximum pace in this kind of weather but this would completely block any discomfort.

"For the horses," Stem reminded himself before casting a similar barrier on himself to make sure he could survive the storm. He checked whether his small hammer was still secured to his waist before wandering off into the desert.

It did not take him long to notice the crowd of black shapes circling the sky and the experienced gnome knew that they could only be birds of prey, scavenging and eyeing the dying prey on the ground below. Whatever it was, Stem decided that would be Raelyse's next meal. He could fend of a few vultures and shave off some cactus to give Raelyse a nasty surprise. Anything to get back at him.

The closer he got though, the faster he moved. The outline in the distance looked less and less animal like with each step and more like...

"A woman!"

Stem sprinted, running as fast as he could, though his short legs moved him even slower when the sand sucked his feet in with every stride. When he was a few feet away, his worst fears were realized. He fell to his knees nearby her, taking her head in his left hand while his right instantly went to work at healing spells.

"You'll be alright," the gnome said in between pants. Reaching for the water jerkin at the right side of his belt, he carefully unscrewed and poured water slowly on her dry, sand encrusted lips.

Casting a look at the vultures which seemed to fly away at the gnome's appearance, Stem could only smile as the first signs of life crept back into the girl.

[Chiroptera]

((Bunnying approved.))

What had been blissful, silent numbness was suddenly replaced with a stinging warmth that spread out from her chest and branched to fill every vein in her body. Rejuvenated blood flooded Eltarri's skull, sending her eyes wide open and her chest heaving to suck in a breath of air that rushed hotly down her parched throat, followed soon after by a stream of lukewarm water, most of which followed the air into her lungs.

Spluttering and choking, the half-elf's eyes fixed onto the creased visage of a man whose face was mere inches away from her own. Brown hair fell onto his sweating forehead over eyes that looked down at her without malice. Still, it was only the slight smile on his face that stopped her from jerking away from his hands.

For a moment after her coughing had ceased, Eltarri only stared at the man in confusion. Where was she? Her lips parted to ask the question aloud when her gaze was torn away from the man and to the rushing wall of black sand that buffeted the air a foot away from her. Cognizance returned in a flash. Black Desert. Dead camel. Sandstorm.

Eltarri pushed herself quickly into a sitting position, wondering at the sudden energy that was flowing through her limbs. Her mind raced as she stared in distasteful awe at the howling sands. She was somehow being protected from the wind, apparently by some sort of magical wall. She'd apparently been healed, and that too most likely by some magical means. How had she even been found in a storm as ferocious as the one around her? The girl's jaw fell open as she reached a conclusion. Who but a wizard would have the means of doing all this?

Eyes bright with eager expectation, Eltarri swung towards her rescuer, mouth open to demand his identity. She stopped without uttering a sound when she saw him, her face flushing a bright red when she realized that he wasn't a man after all. For a while she sat staring at him again, astounded by her first-ever viewing of a gnome. She didn't realize how much time had passed until the short man shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"How are you feeling?"

Eltarri nearly jumped when he spoke in a concerned voice. It wasn't that she hadn't thought him capable of speech - she'd hadn't any idea of what to expect from a real-life gnome - but his was the first voice that she'd heard in quite a while, and even its sand-induced hoarseness was like music to her ears.

"Wonderfully," Eltarri answered slowly, mouth turning up in a hesitant smile. "Are you . . . a wizard?"

The gnome sat back on his heels and blinked in surprise, then quickly shook his head. "Probably not the kind of wizard you're thinking of."

"But you made whatever this is that's keeping us safe?" She gestured at the storm that raged outside of his invisible wall, trying to hide her disappointment at his abrupt denial.

"This?" He waved his hand modestly. "Just a wee spell barrier. My magic is puny compared to what Raelyse can . . ."

The gnome's face suddenly changed, sweat-streaked lines becoming more pronounced as he looked over her head into the distance, staring towards something he undoubtedly couldn't see through the sand.

"I think I'd best be getting back," he muttered, rising swiftly to his feet. "My boss is not a very patient man."

Eltarri clambered up after him, then stood with a ducked head when she realized that the barrier wasn't quite tall enough for her to stand upright.

"You've done me a service I could never repay," she said sincerely, "and I wish you good luck and swift travel through the desert."

The gnome stood for a moment and merely looked at her perplexedly, chewing his lip and muttering in thought. Then he shrugged and shook his head. "There's nothing for it. I can't leave you here."

"No," Eltarri objected, trying to retain at least a little of her dignity despite her awkward stance, "I'll be all right on my own. I don't want to impose on your master."

The gnome waved his hand dismissingly, his eyes flashing with rebellion. "A little imposition might be just the thing he needs."

Unsure of what he meant and afraid to ask, Eltarri quickly made her decision. She readily recognized how futile an attempt to navigate the desert on her own would be. She hadn't even been able to do it without the sandstorm.

"Thank you, sir," she said with a self-depecrating sigh. "I believe this puts me forever in your debt."

The gnome gave a short laugh and turned away from her, saying with a cryptic smile, "Don't thank me just yet."

They had walked in silence for what seemed only a few minutes when the gnome suddenly stopped and turned to her, his face once again worried.

"We're just outside of the carriage's barrier. Try not to make a lot of noise, he hates being woken from his sleep." He licked his lips nervously and turned forward, then swung back around to add, "And don't say anything about food."

With those final words of warning, the gnome stepped forward and led Eltarri through the barrier.

[Raelyse]

Even though his gnomish servant's barrier was strong enough to shield the carriage from the potential damage that could be caused by the buffeting storm, Raelyse began to realize that it did little to combat the heat of the desert. The heavily decorated vehicle seemed to get hotter and hotter with each passing second and the prince, unable to tolerate it, unbuttoned his shirt, button by button but still found the heat borderline intolerable. Sweat began to lace his body, increasing his discomfort. He had tried to sleep as soon as he noticed the heat but he began to realize that he had no chance of dozing off or even letting his mind forget about the heat. Frustrated he began to sweat, to roll around trying to find a comfortable position but found that there was none.

A loud knock from the outside of the carriage was a welcome distraction for the prince. He knew it to be Stem, the gnome had probably come back with his food. With that thought running through his mind, he smiled and pulled the door outwardly open to find the gnome standing there, a smile occupying the space on his face but his arms
were clearly empty.

"I thought I told you to get food?" the prince enquired, his eyes boring into Stem's face. His tone was one that the gnome had gotten accustomed to, so he stared back, but his features were not so serious. "And what are you smiling about?"

The gnome turned his body posture, angling his body so that it pointed like an arrow towards the girl who he had just saved. "She's a pretty one, ay sir? I found her out there."

Raelyse could barely see her even though she was less than ten feet away, but the sandstorm seemed to make it so that he could barely see much of anything. "Is she for eating?" the prince asked sarcastically.

Stem was serious now and he made his way to one of the horses near the front of the carriage. "We can't just leave her here. I promised her passage out of the desert, sir... I hope you understand."

"The decision," Raelyse began. Anger fraught from frustration pulsed through his speech, causing the gnome to turn his attention fully back to his leader once again out of fear. "Is not yours to make. The carriage is not yours. This is not a taxi, this is a transport for the leader of the Grander's Order, Prince Raelyse Salidan."

It was then that he noticed the girl, for she was now in his line of vision.

"Give her a chicken wing or two, then tell her to fuck off. We leave in five."

At that, the prince rose into his carriage once more, slamming the door loudly behind him.

[Chiroptera]

For one brief moment, Eltarri was in complete control of her emotions. She stared blankly at the ornate carriage that still rocked gently from the force of the slammed door, surprised and affronted by the rudeness of the man within. There was even a rush of anger from the part of her mind that was still convinced that people were naturally good and wanted to help each other.

Then her mind replayed the events of the last few seconds. She remembered the ivory hair, the unbuttoned shirt, the piercing gaze of the prince. A prince! The gnome had failed to mention that his “boss” happened to be royalty! She could still remember his proud and commanding voice, scornfully dismissing her as though she were a leprous beggar asking for break. The half-elf’s knees felt weak as her face was flooded by a hot rush of humiliation. What was she doing here? Of course a prince wouldn’t allow a bedraggled vagabond to tag along in his carriage. What had she been thinking, to throw herself onto the mercies of a man based on the world of a gnome she’d never met before? If there was one thing she should have learned by now, it was that there was nobody ever did something for somebody else without expecting something in return. How could she have been fool enough to forget?

The gnome was still standing at the carriage door with an unreadable expression his face. Eltarri shifted her feet and tried to muster a smile.

“Well . . . that’s that then,” she managed to say in a weak voice.

She turned back towards the wall of rushing sand, steeling herself for the force of the storm. Each step forward took every ounce of her self control, but she still had almost stepped through when she was stopped by a hand on her arm. Turning, Eltarri saw that it was the gnome who held her wrist, an apologetic and determined look on his face.

“I couldn’t ever forgive myself if I let you just leave like this,” he said with conviction. “The prince may be a ****ed selfish *******, but I won’t stand by and let you die when I can do something to save you.”

Eltarri’s eyes narrowed and she fought the gratitude that made her want to accept the gnome’s help without hesitation. Gullibility was going to get her killed. She forced herself to glare coldly at him, wrenching her arm free from his grasp and taking a step away from him. “I don’t know what you want from me, but whatever it is I’m sure I won’t let you have it.”

The gnome was taken aback at the half-elf’s spiteful words, but then he drew himself up, his face filled with indignation. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I don’t want nothing from you. I just don’t want you to undo all the good my healing did, but if you’re too hard-assed to believe that I really want to help you, then go ahead and leave.”

Eltarri stared at the gnome for a few moments, her mind wavering between common sense and her sense of pride. If she stepped outside of this magical barrier, she would be dead. Was retaining her dignity more preferable to retaining her life?

The gnome seemed to sense her indecision. “You won’t have to be stuck with us for very long. As soon as we’re in safe territory, I’ll make up an excuse to stop the carriage and let you out, and then you’ll never have to see me or the prince again.”

Eltarri shuddered. It had been her hope that she’d never have to see the prince again anyway. She looked down at the earnest face of the gnome and was filled with remorse for what she’d said. That’s what I’m good at, sticking my foot in my mouth. She opened her mouth to thank the gnome once again, but he had read her answer in the resignation in her eyes. Setting a finger against his lips, he turned and walked softly to the rear of the carriage, then beckoned for her to follow. The rushing winds made such covertness unnecessary, but Eltarri walked on her toes nonetheless, her heart pounding with the fear that the door of the carriage would open again to reveal the intimidating prince.

The gnome waited until she’d reached his side before reaching out and grabbing a metal handle that was situated about a foot above the floor of the carriage. He pushed it up to reveal a compartment that spanned the width of the carriage and that appeared to extend to the space beneath the interior’s seat. Two large trunks were lying within, accompanied by a plethora of bags and sacks that nearly filled the compartment.

Eltarri took off her nearly-empty knapsack and set it inside the storage space. Casting a wary glance at the gnome, she unbuckled her sword and placed it gently onto the pile of bags, wincing when the blade clinked against buckles. When no response came from within, Eltarri looked once more to the gnome before crawling gingerly into the compartment. Her knees were folded almost against her chest and her head was resting on one of the prince’s bag, but she was in. The gnome looked at her with approval before reaching up for the door.

“Just in case I die back here,” she said, hoping to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible, “You can put ‘Eltarri Jordel’ as the name on my grave.”

The gnome flashed a grin and paused with the door halfway down. “My name is Stem. It was good to meet you, Eltarri.” Then the door resumed its downward motion. With a final “Pleasant journey,” from the gnome, the door snapped shut and Eltarri was left in complete darkness.

A cold sweat sprang to Eltarri’s forehead as she realized the ridiculous helplessness of her situation. Reaching out one hand, Eltarri pushed experimentally against the door. She was neither surprised nor happy when it didn’t budge. The girl was used to dark holes, having spent her childhood in tunnels and caves, but a twinge of claustrophobia began to gnaw at the back of her mind.

Stem said a couple of hours, she reminded herself, and then this whole ordeal will be over.

Eltarri sighed, trying not to gag on the stagnant air. Squashed between luggage and the compartment door in an uncomfortable position with an unidentifiable object digging into her side, there was nothing for Eltarri to do but close her eyes and hope that the gnome hadn’t been lying.

[Raelyse]

By the time wheels on the carriage started to turn once more, they were so clogged with sand that they hardly moved at all. Not that Raelyse or his gnomish driver noticed very much. While the former was still in his euphoria generated whenever he exercised his higher status, the latter was conflicted as to what he had done. He inevitably thought of the age old right-wrong debate and questioned his morals. This went on for some time in the brain beneath the brown gnomish locks but no matter what, Stem realized that he had done the right thing, that he had surely saved a life. By the time the sand had almost disappeared from the ornately decorated wheels, the gnome was almost completely vindicated from any thoughts that complained at him for doing the wrong thing. He ran a hand through his brown locks, now covered in sand.

"Fuck!" he cursed out loud. So focused was he on his thoughts that he had completely forgotten that the barrier that blocked the buffeting sand had worn off and the sandstorm, though lesser now that they were nearing normal terrain, was back in force. He closed his eyes, remembering the triggering words and reenacted the nearly transparent barrier, shielding the carriage once more. He swore again before spitting out the sand that had gathered in his teeth and tongue. "I hate the desert," the gnome muttered, shaking his head once more.

If it wasn't for the rumbling from his stomach, weak from overindulgence over the years, Raelyse would have completely forgotten about anything regarding food. The prince reached for the window so he could scream at the gnome once more but his rumbling stomach caught him out once more, causing him to exaggeratedly wince in pain. His fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled it open, only to be greeted by a significant amount of sand. The prince caught it fully in the mouth, causing him to spit and spit and spit all over his carriage. He extended his tongue and began to use his right fingers to wipe the sand away. Even before he got half of it out, he was greeted by the face of his gnomish driver, who had ordered the vehicle to a stop. A look of satisfaction was stamped on his face but it quickly faded before Raelyse looked up at him. "What the hell?" his leader began to stammer out.

Stem could barely wipe the satisfaction from causing Raelyse pain off his face but he managed to. He had been trying to rid his locks from the dreaded sand but had failed miserably instead sending most of it backwards in the general direction of the pearly white teeth, belonging to Raelyse Salidan.

"Sorry, sir... I was jus-..."

The prince continued to wipe his tongue and spit out until he could no longer feel the sand in between his teeth. It was only then that he realized that whatever excused the gnome might have cooked up was not in his ears for they had never left his subordinate's mouth. He looked up, raising his eyes and noticed that Stem's chubby face had been shoved through the tiny window, his eyes contorted in horror.

"Very funny face thought that didn't take much effort," the prince said, composing himself and beginning to preen himself. "Now tell me why we stopped but not before I kill you for ruining my teeth."

When he looked up again, the prince was greeted by a snarling look from a face he had never seen before. "Hello there, rich man," the face said through thin lips. His skin was white, even whiter than Raelyse's.

"Now, who might you be," the prince said, hiding his genuine surprise from the ghastly looking face.

"Uhhh... Devon Starslayer? Would you believe tha-"

Raelyse fully knew that name of course and knew that there was no way that this man could be him. Clenching his fist tightly, he swung it forward with all of his strength, catching him in between his nose and his lips. Raelyse heard him scream and felt a weight off the carriage and knew instantly that he had managed to throw the intruder off. The prince allowed himself a triumphant smile and moved forward, peeking through the window. What he saw shocked him. Sprawled across the ground was his gnomish driver, barely conscious and writhing on the ground, breathing heavily. The sandstorm was gone but there were still traces of the barrier, though it did little now.

Just then, both of his carriage doors swung open and the prince was greeted on either side by more white faces.

"Don't you believe in fairness?" one asked.

"Yeah, equal sharing of richness and all that," the other said.

Raelyse turned to the one that had recently spoken, noticing that he had smiled, revealing a row of long, elongated teeth and in particular, two huge fangs in the centre of the mouth.

"Mmmm, you look tasty," a third one said, appearing to his right. His nose and lip were bleeding and Raelyse recognized his voice as the one from before.

"Vampires," the prince said, not losing his cool. "My favorite type of punching bags. The normal ones just don't do it for me anymore. "

The third vampire smiled, revealing his fangs, much longer than the other two's.

"You two open the trunk and start carrying the stuff back to camp, I want this one for myself. Feisty and tasty," he said, licking his lips and taking in the blood that had formed on his face.

Raelyse didn't know whether to be flattered or disgusted. Knowing him, probably flattered.

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri lay still, breathing as softly as she could, head lifted to better hear what was going on outside of the carriage. She could have cried from relief when the carriage finally pulled to a stop, but now every fiber of her being was charged with energy, ready to be free from the stifling confines of the trunk. Her fingers drummed against her leg, the only outlet for anxiety that her cramped body could find. She could detect the murmuring of conversation, but wasn't that thump the sound of someone jumping down from the driver's seat? Where was Stem?

Louder noise came from outside of the carriage, inches away from her face. A rush of excitement coursed through the half-elf at the thought of open sky and stretching limbs. She willed Stem to hurry, wondering why he was taking so long with the hatch. Then there was a resounding crunch of breaking wood, and sunlight poured painfully into her eyes. As Eltarri blinked in the sudden glare, she caught a glimpse of a tall figure that loomed over her, holding the detached lid of the trunk in one hand.

"What the hell is this?" The voice that came from the figure was smooth and rich, tinged with surprise and ripe with disdain. Another person stepped into Eltarri's line of vision. He looked down at her with cold eyes and the corner of his pale lips lifted in a sneer.

"Maybe the rumors about the prince's love of elves wasn’t exaggerated," he said with condescending amusement, "if he gets so desperate he has to take one for the road."

Eltarri stared at the ghost-pale men above her. The first one’s dark hair was close-shaven over a stern and angular face, but the smiling one wore his hair long and tied back. Both were dressed in eclectic ensembles of dark material, heavily layered despite the heat. There was something about their faces, some ageless quality that made them simultaneously irresistibly beautiful and frightening beyond words.

"Take her with the bags," the second man said with a smirk. "He may have claimed the prince, but this one's open game."

Before she could respond, Eltarri was roughly hauled up and jerked out of the trunk. Her cramped limbs failed her and the girl pitched forward, but the iron grip of the man kept her from falling onto her face. A part of her mind noticed the startling contrast between her own unusually pale skin and the stark whiteness of his fist, but then sluggish blood began to make its way back into her arms and legs, and the pain was all she could recognize. She was lying on the ground, whimpering in pain with a heavy hand pressing her face into sand before she realized that she had fallen.

"Shut her up," hissed a voice over her head. The hand on the back of her head ground her face deeper into the sand and Eltarri had to shut her mouth to keep from swallowing the black dirt. Her blood-starved legs still burned, but she lay still, trying not to quiver with fear and pain.

"Leave her there and help with the trunks. Even if she does try to run, she can't get very far."

The pressure on her head vanished and the girl turned her face to the hot air and drank in a gritty breath. She was facing the underside of the carriage, and on the other side she saw boots, pants, and long cloaks that were definitely unnecessary in the heat of the desert. Eltarri had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as she turned her gaze and saw, near the front of the carriage, the prone form of Stem.

An ambush! They must be trying to kidnap the prince. Her mind raced frantically, picturing what they would do with her and Stem once they had the prince in their possession. Fear washed over her as she came to the conclusion that she and the gnome were definitely expendable.

Soft swearing reached the girl’s ears, and she recognized the voice of the man who had found her. “Louis,” he called in a murmur, “come look at this.”

Sand shifted, and then there was a moment of silence before the second man said in a voice that bordered in incredulity, “A sword?”

Plagiarized curses shot through Eltarri’s head and it took every ounce of effort to refrain from jumping to her feet. Fear made her want to bury her head in the sand and hope that the men would just leave her, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind chastised her cowardice. These were bandits! Eltarri had no explanation for how they had been able to overcome Stem, given that he was a magician, but from the little she had read about royalty, self-defense wasn’t something the prince would be proficient in. And with Stem disabled, who else was there to rescue the prince?

“What the hell . . . I can’t pick it up.”

Eltarri closed her eyes and pushed away the fear that paralyzed her limbs. When she felt that she could had control over her body again, she opened her eyes and carefully noted the positions of the boots on either side of the carriage. The prince was surrounded, but if she moved quickly enough . . .

“I think Sol needs to see this.”

Before her courage could fail her, Eltarri slapped her hands onto the ground and shoved herself up, struggling against the shifting sand. Her foot slid against a rock and gave her the leverage she needed to push to her feet and dart unsteadily towards the trunk that she had just gotten out of. As if they had been warned the men were already facing her, their faces expressionless as she jerked towards them and slammed into the gaping back of the carriage. Her thighs hit the lower wall and her upper body jolted forward, propelling her face-first into the almost-empty trunk.

Eltarri took a second to gather her wits. She hadn’t moved particularly quickly, but the men still stood on either side of the trunk, neither making a move towards her. Too frantic to worry about their stupidity, the girl slid her hand into the back of the trunk. When her fingers found the leather-bound handle of her sword, Eltarri seized it and yanked it out of the trunk, driving herself backwards with the force of her pull. Catching her balance a few feet away from the men, Eltarri stood with legs spread, shifting to maintain her footing on the sand. Her breathing was heavy, but she kept her mouth shut, leveling the men with a cold glare that flickered warily from one to the other. For a second the three were still, only the golden eyes of the half-elf moving as the other two looked at her with indiscernible expressions. A warning went off in Eltarri’s mind at the men’s unexpectedly casual behavior. Why hadn’t they moved to stop her? Why weren’t they at all worried by the fact that she was armed? Why was one of them . . . smiling?

The blow came diagonally towards her neck from the man on her right, descending faster than she had thought was humanly possible. She had barely registered his motion but her gauntlets had already moved, throwing up her sword so that it came between the descending hand and her face. His eyes met hers as his fist slammed into metal, and Eltarri glimpsed the first emotion she had seen on the long-haired man’s face; surprise.

Her sword was moving again before she could think, twisting in her hands to swing to her left in time to deflect the thrust of a dagger from the other man. The small blade rebounded off the sword, but her right hand released its grip of the sword to throw her arm into the path of a fist that followed the dagger on her right. Her forearm stopped the blow, but the force of the attack knocked her to the side. Her arm hurt beneath the bracer, but the man’s punch had pushed her from behind the carriage and a few feet away from the two attackers. She looked up, tensing for the next onslaught, and froze.

A group of men stood beside the carriage, three dressed like the two who had assailed her and a fourth whose silver hair and elaborate clothing called up memories that made Eltarri wince.

The prince.

Trying to move before the men could think to stop her, Eltarri darted past the three and imposed herself between the prince and the bandits, the tip of her large sword weaving in front of her face.

“I don’t want to have to hurt you,” she said in the most threatening voice she could muster, “but the prince is under my protection. Leave now and you’ll escape with your lives.”

Her hands shook as she considered the absurdity of the situation. She barely reached the men’s chests, and even if she did have magical gauntlets and a powerful sword, her only allies were an incapacitated gnome and a pampered prince, neither of which she could expect much help from. But what could a single girl do against five unbelievably fast men?

The half-elf pushed away thoughts of reason and buried her sense beneath a mountain of altruistic foolhardiness. Her brow lowered in determination and the muscles in her jaw clenched as she readied herself. The prince needed to be saved, and she was the only person who could do it.

[Raelyse]

As the newfound opponents stared down each other, it soon became apparent that they were almost complete opposites of each other. While Raelyse seemed to ooze wealth and poise from every orifice, the vampire edging towards him from the entrance to his carriage seemed to lack class and had no desire in demonstrating anything of the sort. The only thing that was anything close to resemblance was the fact that both of them had very pale skin. But whilst Raelyse's seemed to be complimented by his hair, the vampire only looked sickly and unhealthy. The prince's skull seemed to spit out long strands of magical wonder to form his hair and that alone mad him seem not only youthful, but powerful and imposing as well. The vampire bandit, with his dandruff covered, flee infested neck length, uncouth black hair only served to extend his degenerate image.

On closer inspection though, it became noticeable that both wore confident smirks across their varying faces. Despite his situation, the prince of Myrusia sat with absolute composure, almost as if he had expected something of this nature. His look was condescending though and the way his hand hovered over the handle of his cane like a hawk, it seemed as though he was prepared for anything. But the vampire was quite prepared himself, with one hand reaching for the dagger which he had sheathed and strapped to his back. Still, he was no match for Raelyse. His underestimating of his potential victim probably did him no favors.

In a swift motion that would have shocked many, the vampire bared his lengthy fangs and drew his dagger just as quickly, instantly showing off three sharp objects in less than a second. He studied Raelyse for a moment, searching for any signs of shock, fear or even change. There was none, just his smirk. Offended, but composed, the bandit kicked off with his calf muscles, shooting his body forward. There was more than enough energy to go past the handsome man and cut him at least three times at that speed and perhaps, even turn around and give him a nibble across the neck.

He got no such chance though. For while he was fast, the vampire had no idea that Raelyse was much, much faster. His cane had been lifted from the ground faster than a blinking eye, flipped in the air so that the sharp icicle at the tip of its handle now faced the charging bandit. A quick thrust of his wrist had dug the tiny, but sharp edge into the stomach of the undead thief. He groaned, his motion completely snatched away from him at the last moment. Raelyse's smirk widened, but he said nothing. His left hand - the free hand, curled into a tight fist and he watched as the vampire's eyes widened in surprise before they were met by the pale white fury of the prince's knuckles. The force behind it was significant and he flew straight out of the carriage onto the sandy ground below.

A moment later, the prince jumped from the carriage onto the ground, his cane tightly grasped in his right hand. Both the jewels on his middle finger rings glowed in the desert sun as Raelyse pulled his sword cane from its sheath, revealing the glimmering blade. Before he had a chance to show off its remarkable workmanship, more vampires appeared to his left as well as a figure, slightly familiar but not really. The female voice rang through his head and he smirked a confident, condescending smirk.

His temporary distraction had allowed his vampire to get away and he scurried with all the pace of a rat towards his three companions and the three eyed the prince and his female stowaway with a mixture of contempt, fear and anger.

"I could use your help, street rat," the prince said, his voice caught halfway in a chuckle. "My halfling seems to be bleeding from every possible hole in his body and I need a body to protect my body from their nasty teeth."

Raelyse allowed her a glance, before throwing his silver hair from his face. It seemed to fall perfectly into place as though he had groomed it with a comb for three hours.

"What do you say?"

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri cringed imperceptibly as the prince spoke, his arrogant voice falling like a punishing blow on her sensitive ears. Indignation rose in her throat and she turned her head to see if he really was talking to her. Street rat? Her eyes caught his piercing blue ones for only a moment before the prince looked away to flip his hair, and Eltarri jerked her gaze back to the men before her, mind racing to make sense of the situation.

"What do you say?"

Eltarri stared wordlessly at the men that surrounded them. What did the prince mean by "from their teeth?" She looked at the man who stood the closest to her, whose mouth and nose were dripping blood, noticing with sudden alarm his abnormally long canines. Oh, gods.

The girl's head whipped towards the prince again, eyes wide with panic, then flicked quickly back towards the vampires. How could he be so calm? These were vampires! Blood-sucking, lightning-fast, merciless undead killers! Her hands started shaking again. What had she been thinking, to impose herself between them and the prince? She’d caught a glimpse of what looked like a fencing sword in his hand, but her expectations of his skill weren't high. He was probably used to carrying the thing more for show than for any practical application. He didn't even have the sense to be afraid! And now she was going to die with him, killed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and for succumbing to stupid self-sacrificing impulses.

What happened to your great heroic gallantry? The unwelcome sarcasm sprang up from the small part of her mind that wasn’t ruing ever having gotten involved with gnomes and princes and deserts and swords. At least your death will be for a good cause, right?

The idea didn’t provide as much comfort as it should have, but Eltarri seized it, tightening the muscles in her arms to stop the trembling in her hands. Better to die nobly here protecting an innocent victim than to do it alone in a desert from something as pathetic as starvation or thirst.

“I say stay back, and try not to get killed before I do,” Eltarri muttered to the prince. Even if he did get into his carriage and try to flee, the horses probably wouldn’t be able to outrun their assailants anyway. With a sinking feeling the girl came to the conclusion that their lives depended on her sword. And pray for a miracle while you’re at it.

“Prince, you say.” The bleeding vampire was moving. He stalked back and forth a mere meter away of the half-elf, mouth open in a sneer that showed off gleaming fangs. The thought suddenly occurred to the girl that the vampires might not have known about her charge’s royalty before she’d stupidly declared it. Eltarri swallowed hard and glared at him, trying not to flinch as her eyes met his.

“And he’s under your protection?” His voice was hard and mocking. “Does that mean you want us to kill you first?”

Eltarri tightened her grip on her sword. “You can try.”

“Big words, little girl.” He snickered and stopped walking. “I’d take you for myself, but elves aren’t nearly as tasty as princes.”

Her eyes were focused on him, so she didn’t notice when one of the vampires on her right suddenly darted forward, dagger drawn and thrusting towards her ribs. She yelped as her hands spun her sword and brought the black blade down on top of his knife. She had half a second to turn her body before the sword was jerked upwards to stop a swing at her head from the dagger in his other hand.

They’re too fast! The panicked thought went unheeded as she was yanked around again to intercept a kick from a vampire who had appeared on her left. Even with the bracers controlling her movements the girl could barely respond in time to deflect the attacks. She tried to step back so that she wouldn’t be surrounded, but they matched her movement, striking almost teasingly as her sword hurtled through the air.

Then, unexpectedly, she scored a hit. The vampire on her left feinted towards her back and then spun around with a low punch aimed at her gut. Her arms swung the sword to protect her back, but the vampire on her right jabbed simultaneously towards her neck with his knife. Eltarri had to spin clumsily as her sword whirled behind her to knock aside the dagger before continuing its vicious sweep across her front and through the fist of the striking vampire. A wave of nausea swept through the girl as four fingers and most of a thumb fell to the sandy earth.

Time seemed to freeze. Eltarri’s eyes fixed, horrified, on the pale digits that oozed dark blood onto the ground. Her arms were still, the tip of her sword resting weakly on the sand, her shoulders hunched as she fought spasms that wracked her stomach. Then her eyes rose slowly to the face of the vampire who stood in front of her, bent at the waist and clutching the wrist of his fingerless hand. His gaze was murderous as it rose to settle on her, his lips pulled back in a snarl that made his sharp teeth stand out against the red of his mouth.

“You . . .”

The word had barely left his lips before the dagger-wielding vampire on her right snaked out one heel and stomped it against the hilt of her sword, crushing her fingers and knocking the blade from her limp grasp. Eltarri cried out at the pain that flashed up her arm, but before she could move her neck was caught in a vise-like grip that lifted her off the ground and brought her face-to-face with the vampire she had just dismembered. She stared with paralyzed terror into his dark eyes, too scared even to gasp for air as his fingers crushed her windpipe. He held the attached remains of his right hand up to her face, pushing the bleeding stumps against her cheek as he bared his fangs inches away from her mouth.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t feel pain, bitch.” He drew back his hand and slammed his fingerless knuckles into her mouth. Eltarri wasn’t prepared for the sharp pain that exploded across her face, but when he hit her again she was fairly certain that the snap that echoed in her ears was her nose. Her eyes squeezed shut, but every punch brought more and more wet warmth that trickled down her neck, and she wasn’t sure if it was his blood or hers. It only took five hits to knock the girl out, but the vampire kept up the barrage even after her body had gone limp in his grasp. Fingers didn’t regenerate, and even if beating her to death wouldn’t reattach them, the poetic justice of using the stubs to kill her was just too perfect an opportunity to pass up.

[Raelyse]

Standing in the middle of a desert with his only underling injured in the company of three bloodthirsty vampires was hardly what Raelyse had thought would happen to him when he first set out to Erebus. He had expected a scenic, leisurely ride and this one had been anything but. Making a mental note to fire the gnome as soon as they returned to Erebus safe and sound, the prince slowly but surely returned his attention to the task at hand. One had already started fighting the girl, but the other two kept their distance, slowly moving apart. From the way that they were moving, it was obvious to Raelyse that they were going to adopt a pincer formation. After countless swordsmanship lessons and even more on tactics, these things came naturally to him.

Inadvertently tightening his sweaty fingers around the handle of his finely crafted sword, the prince himself took a step backwards and shifted his vision between three sights, the two unoccupied vampires and the one attacking the girl. They eyed him and it became obvious with each step they took that they were both novices, to battle at least. One held a short sword while the other was carrying a pair of daggers but they seemed to circle far too much, giving Raelyse time to anticipate and formulate a way to counterattack their eventual offensive. From the looks of their gangly frames and the general vibe he got from them, he didn't foresee that being a very difficult task.

The daggered one was the first to strike, revealing his fangs as a means to distract and intimidate the prince, from his partner who was striking from the other side. The first to attack was moving with one of his blades coming from high in an attempt to stab Raelyse's shoulder while the other weapon was coming from low to meet the other dagger via the prince's stomach. The vampire behind was sprinting forward, his sword held at his right, showing no effort to hide the fact that his movements were indicating that he would strike in a diagonal motion upwards, aiming to sever the prince's body in two. All this information had come to Raelyse in a split second based on his stellar observation on his enemies, while it only took him another of those short moments to formulate his counterattack.

Maintaining his straight, perfect posture, Raelyse quickly moved his blade into the center of his body, then to his weaker left hand where the daggered (and quicker) vampire was quickly striking from. His moves were predictably slow, so it was easy for Raelyse to raise and then lower his blade and parry both of the blows, this while keeping his eye on the vampire with the short sword charging towards him. He wasn't far behind, so the prince ended it quickly by turning his body completely towards the bandit that was slower to attack. He raised his right leg and landed a perfect back kick on the vampire that was now behind him, striking him hard and square in the chest, causing him to fall back and dazed. When he raised his head again to glance at Raelyse, his jaw was left hanging open as he witnessed the supreme speed at which the prince moved.

Three nigh-impossibly quick steps took the silver haired warrior to the charging vampire and his poorly fashioned broad sword. One quick swipe deflected the clumsy blow, sending the short sword high and leaving the entire body of the bandit open for strike. But that was not the way that Raelyse fought. With a sinister smile across his handsome face, he made a quick 360 degree turn, using it to glance at the still dazed vampire behind him and the losing fight that the girl was fighting. It was not a waste for the prince for he used the confusing movement to temporarily stun his inexperienced opponent. With finesse befitting his ability, the prince used the momentum of the turn to power the strike of his blade which he brought from low to high in an unpredictable attack.

The vampire barely had time to register pain, his eyes glancing at the stump where the hand holding the short sword had been just a moment before. All he saw after that was the prince's form, hunched slightly to recover from the strike, his head turned, looking at the pale face with horror all over it. The smirk widened and the vampire thought about running but before his legs could even register the thought, the fine crafted titanium edge of Raelyse's sword swung across in a powerful blow from low to high, this time slicing across the neck of the vampire, cleanly decapitating the undead thief. Utilizing the momentum of yet another of his strikes, the prince turned to see the vampire's stunned attack partner, his muscles barely recovered from the force of Raelyse's parries.

He stuttered backwards out of fear, finally realizing the strength and speed of the warrior that lay before him. He turned to run but Raelyse had anticipated this yet again. Taking a step backwards, he dug his boot into the sand, reaching for the hand that still held the short sword. Swallowing his girly hate for all things bloody, the prince flicked the hilt with the tip of his boot and hit it into the air in front of him. With the grace and coordination of a sporting hero, the prince caught the blade by the handle and bent his hand backwards, preparing for a perfect throw.

With precision matching his previous acts, the prince threw the weapon, watching as it tore through the air at incredible pace before striking precisely, tip first into the back of the vampire's skull, instantly killing him.

Turning slowly and letting the fiery pain in his muscles slowly die down, he glanced at the bloodied body of the girl that lay there with the vampire and what was left of his hand. Stifling a laugh the prince gradually advanced on the undead warrior, who looked up at him as if in some sort of bloodlust. It barely affected him though and he merely widened his smirk and pulled his sword to his right, half glancing at its glimmer in the desert sun as it walked by.

"First your foolish friends, now you. It's a shame you vampires die so easily or I might have some satisfaction now," he said when his lips finally parted. He stared the vampire down, watching as senses returned to the bandit, who took one glance at his two downed comrades before standing to his feet and clutching his bloodied stump of a hand, ran as fast as he could into the distance. Raelyse closed his eyes for a moment before moving towards the downed girl. He did not have to lift his head to know that the shriek of horror had come from the vampire and the subsequent scream of pain came from his magically conjured icicle spear piercing the area in between both of his eyes perfectly.

The girl had been knocked unconscious but the prince had known from the melee before that most of the blood was probably the vampires. She had stood her own, for a while at least and from the looks of her swordsmanship, she had some tutelage. That was the extent of Raelyse's praise for her, before he moved back onto his carriage, sheathing his sword with his cane shaft and sitting there on the soft cushion. He had no healing spells but the prince knew that the gnome was still alive, for his heart still beat.

With a snide smirk across his face, the prince leaned back on his chair, put his feet up and wiped the sweat from his forehead and slammed the door shut.

Ventreas would awake soon, albeit with a powerful headache. When that happened, he would drive a napping Raelyse to Istien.

[Chiroptera]

((Bunnying!))

Consciousness returned slowly to Stem as cruel desert sunlight roasted his exposed skin. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the sky, mentally scanning his body for injury. Upon finding no permanent damage, he pulled himself slowly into a seated position. When sitting up caused no further pain, the gnome clambered to his feet, wincing at the ringing in his ears and the migraine that pounded behind his eyes. He remembered a pale, smiling face and then the rapid approach of a fist . . . Stem's head jerked up and he stared at the barren ground around him.

His gaze fell on the corpses that lay strewn around the carriage. Vampires! How had they approached the carriage so quickly? He cursed himself for being caught off-guard. If he hadn’t been distracted by Raelyse’s incessant complaining, they would never have even gotten close, of that he was sure. Stem timidly climbed back onto the front of the carriage and cracked the window behind his seat. He sighed with relief when he saw the Prince’s immaculate figure reclining on the seat. He hadn’t really been worried for the Prince’s safety; he was sure his boss was powerful enough to take care of a few vampires by himself, but it was a relief to see that he was asleep and not waiting to scream threats and curses at the gnome for his carelessness.

Shutting the window as silently as he could, Stem hopped to the ground and stood beside the carriage to survey the damage. The luggage had only been taken a few meters away, but Stem still wanted to groan aloud. He’d had help loading the overstuffed trunks when they’d left Erebus, and the thought of moving them now by himself only made his sore body ache more. Not to mention that the obviously-broken lid of the trunk was there on the sand-

Stem gasped aloud as he suddenly remembered that the luggage wasn’t the only thing that had been in the trunk. He raced to the back of the carriage, jumping over a body and nearly falling in his haste.

Empty.

Where was the girl? Stem’s eyes trailed slowly back to the bodies. Most bore wounds that were the obvious marks of the prince’s cane-sword, testaments to the havoc of which the misleading highbrow was capable. He stepped hesitantly back towards the body he had leapt over, crouching down to flip it onto its back, his heart sinking as he recognized the half-elf. Her face was a swollen mess, red marks lined her neck, and her skin beneath the blood and grime was just as pale as that of the vampires. Stem knelt beside her and felt for a pulse, holding one hand over her mouth to check for breathing.

“Come on, girl,” he muttered gruffly as his fingers moved along her bruised neck. “I’m not gonna waste a healing spell on you if you’re dead.” Finally he found the faint flutter of a heartbeat. The gnome shook his head grimly at her luck and kept one hand at her chin, using the other to push her nose back into place. He cradled one arm beneath her head and held the other hand with fingers spread over her chest to cast another healing spell.

Eltarri’s heart sank when she opened her eyes and realized that she was once again resting on the arm of the gnome. His face was tight but he looked down at her with a warm smile that the half-elf was too miserable to return.

“You . . .” Tears blocked her throat and the girl had to swallow and try again. “You died too?”

Stem’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Afraid not. Not unless this desert is hell and Raelyse is the devil.” He paused thoughtfully. “Then again . . .”

“The prince!” Eltarri gasped and sat up, eyes wide with alarm. “I tried to stop them, but I wasn’t fast enough, and then . . . did they kill him?”

“The prince is safe in his carriage, sleeping like a babe,” Stem said, a little surprised by her concern.

Eltarri looked around, saw the bodies scattered across the sand, and closed her eyes as a wave of relief swept over her. Stem must have recovered and woken up in time to rescue them! “Thank you, Stem, once again, for saving my life.”

Ventreas shook his head and looked back towards the trunks. “I’m just here to clean up.” He stood and went to the front of the carriage, then returned with a large waterskin that he handed to her. “Here, wash your face. Careful of your nose, though, it’ll take longer to mend than regular bruises.”

Eltarri sat in the sand and rinsed her face while the gnome set to work lugging the trunks back towards the carriage. She was slightly alarmed by the amount of blood that washed away with the water, but her face felt perfectly fine. She was more tired than she had been after the first healing, but Eltarri credited that to the gnome being weaker after killing all the vampires.

Stem wiped sweat off his face as he finished with the luggage and wearily went to pick up the trunk’s cover. Eltarri stood up and returned the depleted waterskin to his seat at the front, unconsciously tiptoeing around the silent carriage. As she went by the tightly-shut door, she bent down and picked up her sword, carefully steering her gaze away from the corpses nearby. When she reached the rear end of the carriage, Stem was standing beside the open trunk with the lid on the ground beside him.

“They broke the hinges, but if I lock it with a spell, it should stay shut and keep most of the dirt out,” he told her. “And I’ve rearranged things so that there’s a bit more space for-,” he stopped, noticing her expression. “You weren’t thinking I’d let you head off alone, were you? We’re practically still in the desert; there’s a good many miles to go before I’d trust you to stay alive by yourself.”

“But . . . the prince . . .”

Stem waved her objection away. “You came out before when they emptied the trunk. Was he angry when he saw you?”

“We were a little distracted,” Eltarri replied sarcastically.

“Exactly,” said Stem, gesturing towards the corpses on the ground. “By vampires.”

The simple reminder was enough to convince Eltarri of the wisdom of traveling in groups. She hated the trunk, but the thought of more bloodthirsty vampires waiting to prey on hapless travelers made the small space seem almost inviting. With a miserable sigh the girl stepped forward and set her sword into the trunk, then crawled in reluctantly after it.

“Don’t worry,” Stem said as he picked up the trunk’s cover. “The rest of the trip should be quite uneventful.”

“Please don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Eltarri groaned.

Stem grinned. “Just get some sleep. The next time the carriage stops, you’ll be a free woman.”

Eltarri closed her eyes as he set the cover back on. Though she now had enough room to allow for some space between her knees and her chest, the air in the trunk was already stuffy and thick, warmed further by the trunks that had been sitting in the sun. Sweat was beading on her forehead before the carriage even started moving again, and Eltarri tried to regulate her breathing, fighting the fear that wracked her body every time the carriage hit a rut. That’s not a vampire, stupid, she told herself often, but lying quietly was still one of the hardest things she’d ever forced herself to do.

[Raelyse]

When sleepy eyelids lifted, Raelyse was shocked to find that the sun had noticeably lost its glare from when he had fought the vampires. He stretched his tired arms and pulled apart the blinds of his moving carriage's windows to reveal that the sun was well on its way to setting. Some of its hue had changed but the prince knew there were still a few more hours of daylight left. The next thing that he noticed was that he could hear the clip-clop of horse hooves just in front of him as well as the occasional whinny. That was good, it meant that they weren't too traumatized from the desert and the vampires, which meant he would still get to Istien relatively on time. The sound of the hooves was even more soothing to his ears because they meant that they were on paved ground, not the sandy desert surface.

Constant thoughts on the desert inevitably turned back to those pale faced vampires he encountered. It was only then, through a combination of a second noticing of the sun that he realized that he had never thought about the fact that those three undead thieves were fighting in almost bright sunlight with no hint of hindrance or melting into dust to merge with the sand dunes. Despite their weakness, the prince deduced there must have been something different about them. Never had he heard of vampires frequenting deserts, especially in broad daylight. A second thought crept into his mind, why were they there? To the best of his knowledge, his underling had not often chosen to take the desert route and few people took it. Few caravans probably passed by that area which was why Raelyse was so shocked that they were there at that moment. Did they target Raelyse?

Any thoughts of doubt or fear were quickly vanished when Raelyse spied the imposing Istien University in the distance. He closed his eyes briefly, forgetting everything for a short while. He enjoyed Istien, he enjoyed wandering through the marble halls of Raiaera's song bards but this was the moment he enjoyed the most. For as he rejected his sense of sight briefly, his sense of hearing perked up briefly and he swore that even at this time, he could hear the sounds of elven singing in the distance. Raelyse admitted he had never liked hearing songs before, but Istien's beautifully magically enhanced melodies were quickly becoming one of his favorite things.

When his carriage door opened, Raelyse was greeted by a bloodied, beaten Stem. He had a swollen left eye and while there was visible effort to clean up his face, there was still the occasional hint of dried blood across his cheeks. There was a quiver in his hand as he held the door open and no sense of sucking up was evident across his face. The prince of Myrusia didn't notice though, dropping to the ground and striding purposefully towards the entrance to the grand elven building. When he had walked about ten feet, he turned around in time to see the gnome close the door slowly.

"Ventura," the prince said, actually forgetting his underling's name. "Find a place to stay for both you and he horses, make sure they're well fed and all that nonsense. Be here at the crack of dawn tomorrow."

And with that, Raelyse left Ventreas to his own, rude thoughts. Mostly directed at Raelyse as he moved towards the trunk.

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri clenched her hands tightly together, her mouth set in a firm line as she willed herself not to scream. The carriage had stopped. Why wasn’t Stem letting her out? Had something gone wrong? The air in the trunk was cooler than it had been before, leading Eltarri to believe that they were finally away from the desert. The light that filtered through the crack under the lid was softer too, as though it were early in the evening. She’d felt the carriage shift as the prince had gotten out and heard the commands he’d issued before departing. She even would have sworn that the gnome had been right outside; something had blocked the light . . .

So why was she still in the trunk?

The carriage lurched into motion and panic rose in Eltarri’s throat. Get a grip, stupid, it’s not vampires! But sweat dripped from her forehead anyway. By the time the carriage had stopped again, the half-elf’s fingers were cramped from being clenched so tightly together. When the lid above her began to move, a shiver of fear went down her spine as she stared at the widening crack of light.

“Still alive in there?”

The girl was out before Stem had even gotten the lid all the way off. She barreled away from the carriage and breathed deeply, struggling to contain the emotion that raged in her chest. Wind blew across her face and cooled her clammy skin. Open air had never smelled so good!

With another, more attentive sniff, the girl changed her mind. She looked around, lifting one hand to pinch her nostrils shut. Cobbled road had been exchanged for a dirt trail that led to a courtyard of hard-packed earth, ringed by a fenced meadow and a white barn whose double doors were wide open. The sounds of horses shifting and snuffling carried clearly across the sparsely-populated grounds. A few boys in livery moved about the barn, but none seemed to take special notice of the carriage in the courtyard.

“Sorry about the wait,” Stem said from behind her. “I thought it would be wiser not to let you out at the front door.”

“Where are we?” Eltarri questioned, fingers still at her face.

“This is Istien’s stable.”

“Who’s Istien?”

“It’s a university.” He smiled at her unconcealed ignorance. “It’s a school where people learn song and soul magic.”

Eltarri dropped her hand. “And by people you mean . . . wizards?”

Stem shrugged as he gently set the lid over the trunk. “Well yes, I suppose so, but normal people too.”

“Is the prince here to learn magic?”

Stem barked a laugh. “He’s here to learn more magic.”

Eltarri frowned in thought. If the prince knew magic, why had he left it to Stem to save them? She was about to ask when she realized that the gnome had already disappeared around the side of the carriage. A few of the livery-clad boys had gone to work unhitching the horses, but he obviously didn’t trust the youths with the Grander’s stallions.

“I’ll take care of them,” he told the boys firmly. “You boys can clean the carriage and fix the broken cover on the back.”

The lads moved to obey as the gnome took the horses’ leads out of their hands and headed towards the barn. Eltarri went after him, keeping a wide distance between herself and the frighteningly large animals.

“Am I anywhere near Eluriand?” She spoke timidly, afraid of the answer.

Stem heard the hope in her voice and flashed her a grin before turning his gaze back to the horse he was currying. “Near it? You're in it.”

Eltarri could barely contain the excited shout that tried to escape. She wanted to run over and hug the gnome, but she limited herself to an excited bounce on her toes as the whole day seemed to instantly brighten. “Thank you, Stem. For everything. I’d be dead twice over if not for you.”

The gnome cleared his throat uncomfortably. “It was nothing. Just try to be more careful from now on. Find some friends or something.”

Eltarri nodded. “Yeah, friends would be . . .” she trailed off with a bitter smile. How would she know what friends were? She’d never had any. Dismissing the dreary reminder, she lifted a hand in a wave. “See you around, Stem!”

The half-elf turned and left the barn, crossing the courtyard with a lively step as she thought through what she could do now that she'd reached the big city. Her steps were light and she felt as if she’d lost weight. She stopped in her tracks and turned up her face to peer at the darkening sky. A lot of weight. Lifting one hand to scratch her head, the leather strap of her harness shifted unburdened across her shoulder. Eltarri gasped in horror and turned around, kicking up clouds of dust as she ran back to the stable. The prince’s carriage still sat in the middle of the courtyard, but stablemen were gathered around the front end, pushing against it with all their might. It wasn’t moving.

Eltarri slowed her pace and jogged to the rear of the carriage, hoping they wouldn’t notice her before she’d retrieved her baggage. She lifted the gilded lid with effort and dropped it to the ground beside the carriage, then reached into the trunk and pulled out her sword with relief. As soon as her fingers had touched the hilt the carriage lurched towards her, the men on the other end crying out at the sudden give.

“Sorry!” Eltarri danced out of the way, cheeks going red as she stumbled backward with her sword held tightly in her hands. She quickly set it against her back and pressed the clasp to close the sling. The boys who hadn’t fallen onto their faces stared at her in confusion, but Eltarri only gave a quick nod of the head before running back towards the road, hoping they wouldn’t chase her down. She didn’t stop until she reached the point where the road once again became cobbled, about a fourth of a mile away. The white barn gleamed in the distance like a temple against the grassy hills that surrounded it.

Heart still pounding from the run, Eltarri stepped onto the road. She could see a huge building to the left that looked even more like a temple than the barn did. Assuming that it was the university, she turned right and began walking. Maybe tomorrow she would go and see if there were wizards there who could help her. For now, the girl could barely keep herself from lying down in the grass on the side of the street. The fields that bordered the road ended a few hundred yards ahead, merging into the outskirts of a suburb that seemed to be shutting down for the night. A large edifice down the street drew her attention as she got nearer, and when she was close enough to read the sign that hung above its door, the half-elf smiled with anticipation and went in.

“Welcome to the Wizard’s Rest,” greeted a cheery woman as Eltarri stepped inside. Her expression became motherly and concerned at the sight of the girl and she took hold of her hand, leading her towards the kitchen. “What’s a young thing like you doing out on your own? Come with me, dearie. What you need is a hot meal and a warm bed, and four gold coins is all it’ll cost you for both.”

Thirty minutes later her jacket and harness were resting on a rickety table in one corner of a bedroom and the red-handled sword sat with her boots on the floor beside it. Eltarri lay on a fluffy mattress with one hand curled beneath her cheek, oblivious to the troubles of reality as she drowned in a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

[Raelyse]

There was a visible difference in Raelyse as he moved from outside Istien University to inside it. His posture shifted slightly, to straighten his back and heighten his frame. Even though he was not short by any standards, he seemed to look up to many of the significantly taller elves. Their flowing blonde locks dwarfed his neck length silver. Even then though, the prince did not seem alien, in fact he moved as if he was one of them. He seemed to measure every step, every time his heel touched the ground to the moment it left it, Raelyse was in perfect control and with his grace and natural poise, he was fitting seamlessly into this community of elves.

But it took a closer look to identify the differences between Raelyse with his underlings and Raelyse with the elves. Upon his face, his lips had curled into a genuine smile, one that would instantly widen when he nodded to greet the bards and warriors that slipped through the corridors. Non-elves were treated as inferior in this institution but the prince of Myrusia had crafted an incredible reputation in Istien, one which surely humbled any other non-elf. They all knew him, knew of his significant repertoire, his relentless attitude to learning a song spell but most of all, they respected him because he could out sing many elves, despite the human's natural disadvantage, juxtapositioned against the elves' natural affinity for song and song magic.

While Raelyse continued to move through the halls, tapping his cane on the ground below, he began to search, his head tilting from side to side to search for the one elf that could help him. There were few here that knew of Raelyse's true self and one of them was Legiomir. Beneath his hair, which age had turned into less than gold, the brain below constantly ticked with thoughts of the prince's true self: the cocky, condescending Myrusian who deemed everyone as inferior. Not that he cared of course, the two were like in mind.

Raelyse found him near his office, leaning against the wall, turning his wand in between his fingers. The haughty elf had made the prince something of his prodigy and had groomed him to become a great song mage and by all accounts, it seemed as if the prince would exceed many Istien alumni.

"I'd say well met, Raelyse, but I seldom enjoy pitting my ego against your's," the elf said, rising off the wall and stepping towards him.

"Perhaps it is because yours' always seems to lose," the prince said with a smile. Upon closer inspection though, Legiomir realized it was a smirk.

"In your mind only," Legiomir responded, closing the final distance between them and greeting the prince in a tight hug, one that he more than reciprocated. When the two parted, their faces seemed to be almost identical. They were both handsome, confident and had sharp, intimidating features. Legiomir's pointy ears seemed their only difference and the elf never grew tired of pointy out the superiority he appeared to gleam from them. Raelyse of course, saw it the other way, deeming them as a disadvantage.

Small talk ensued with both striding through Istien's halls, greeting their fellow students and teachers with condescending smiles, knowing full well where they were going. They had briefly talked about it during the prince's last visit and now that he had returned, a subtle smile was all that Legiomir needed to know that was why he had returned.

"And you should have seen the legs on mine," Legiomir whistled when the topic moved to the pair's latest conquests.

"I do like elvish," the prince said and they exchanged lewd smiles before arriving at their destination. "In fact, I recently purchased an Elvish steel sword, rapier, finely crafted."

"You will have to show me some time," Legiomir responded, opening the door and indicated for Raelyse to go in first. "Now, you remember our deal?"

It only took an exchange of smirks for the elf to know the prince's answer and he shut the door behind them, activating the magic within the room.

[Chiroptera]

“Come on, Eltarri, let’s go make a castle!”

The half-elf could feel the heat of the sun on the top of her head and the shifthing hardness of gravelly sand beneath her feet. A long braid swished against her back, but she had to tilt her head back to look up into her mother’s smiling face.

“I don’t want to play in the sand.” Her voice sounded loud and whiny.

“Come on, Eltarri, have some fun for once!” Red eyes sparkled as she threw a handful of sand at her daughter. Eltarri frowned. There was something wrong with the carefree woman who stood with dark skin glowing in the sunlight before her.

“Mama, I thought the sun hurt your eyes . . .”

“You really are a useless little half-breed, aren’t you?” The proud, sneering voice that issued from her mother was one that’d made her cringe since the first time she’d heard it less than twenty-four hours ago, even though the speaker wasn’t the arrogant, silver-haired prince to whom the voice belonged. The dark-skinned woman stepped towards her, eyes intent on the girl as her face broke into a sly grin that revealed two sharp, abnormally long canines . . .

Eltarri’s eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat when she felt the wad of cloth that had been shoved into her mouth. For a moment she doubted her eyesight, so dark was the room before her. The chamber was silent, but there was a heaviness to the air that alerted her to the presence of others. She tried to jerk a hand to her face, but her wrists screamed at the movement and she realized that they were tied tightly behind her back. The girl gagged as the cloth tickled her throat, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead as a flicker of movement caught her eye. In an instant the situation became clear, and in what was perhaps the wisest decision of her life she realized the futility of struggling and lay still, eyes wide and heart pounding as she peered into the darkness in search of her captors.

“We were told to track the scent of the people who killed Sol and the rest.” The voice was a hoarse, insistent whisper that came from a few feet away from the bed. “Instead we’re sneaking into hotels and tying up random girls? We aren't allowed to feed on a job!”

“I tracked the scent. It led us to her.” This one was softer, slightly defensive, but not intimidated by the other’s rebuke.

“You’re a fool. The blood could have come from anywhere. How could this girl have killed five of our men?”

“She probably didn’t, but the scent is strong,” the second one snapped. “The blood on her is fresh.”

“No girl could have killed them.” The first voice was decisive. “Maybe she stole his clothes or something.”

“Wait, look . . .” The voice came again from the corner of the room where the table was.

“Holy shit. Do you think it’s hers?”

“Hell no. It’d be too big for her to pick up. He must be here.”

“What, did he wait till she fell asleep and then go to meet a mistress or something?”

The other one snickered darkly. “Makes sense. If the blood was on him and he was on her . . . He’ll probably return before morning. What say we leave his woman’s head on the pillow to welcome him back?”

“How will that help us? Sol and his boys wouldn’t have attacked him if he didn’t have something of value on him. No point in letting his wealth go to waste just for revenge.”

“So we take her with us?” The voice was tinged with reluctance.

“Get the sword, too. He’ll come back and find his woman and his weapon missing. We give him a little while to consider their worth, and then we send him a ransom note.”

Eltarri couldn’t keep herself from trembling. A soft whimper slid from her throat and two pairs of eyes darted towards her.

“She’s awake.”

“Doesn’t matter. Grab her and make sure she’s quiet.” Someone moved towards the door.

“Wait . . . I think the sword’s enchanted or something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s too heavy to move!” The rustling of movement wasn’t followed by the scraping of iron across wood that Eltarri expected, and a moment later one of them spoke from the foot of her bed.

“Damn. Leave it, then. We need to go.”

Eltarri cringed back as a hand reached towards her through the darkness and roughly grabbed the front of her shirt. She was hauled into a sitting position at the edge of the bed and a pale face appeared in front of hers with teeth bared in a leer that showed long, pointed incisors.

“If you make any noise,” he said in a low whisper, “I’ll break each of your fingers slowly, one at a time. Got me?”

Something inside of her wanted to stare defiantly back or to scream and kick with her unbound feet, but something else, something stronger sapped every ounce of boldness that she possessed and left her too weak to even blink. She stared with wide eyes, too numb with terror to even show that she’d heard the threat. Vampires! And this time there was no magical gnome to save her. Desperate loneliness made a lump rise in the half-elf’s throat even though the gag in her mouth made breathing hard enough as it was.

The vampire seemed to sense her paralysis. He smirked and straightened, then reached down to grab her by the waist and hoist her into the air. Eltarri choked as her stomach hit his shoulder and forced the air in her lungs to rush up against the cloth in her mouth. By the time she could breathe normally through her nose again, the cold air on her feet told her that she was outside and being carried swiftly away from the inn, her sword, and the only person who could provide hope of a rescue.

[Raelyse]

When Raelyse walked through the other Istien's grand entrance hall, this time moving in the other direction, he did so with a swagger that appeared to be grander than ever before. Trainees and initiates noticed this and congratulated him, for his confidence could only mean one thing. He had just learned and perfected a new song and in Istien, when one added another melody to their repertoire, it was a grand occasion. However, Raelyse's confidence and general happiness that day seemed to be greater than ever before. They had seen him learn songs before and this was his fifth. Perhaps he was happy that he reached that landmark. As they saw him depart from Ost’Dargorlin, many thought that maybe the latest was a grand spell that could humble armies. Or maybe the secret to an impenetrable defense?

None knew, of course and they could only guess. For Raelyse left Istien promptly, taking the most direct route and walking in such a manner that suggested he was in quite a rush. Only Legiomir truly knew why the prince was in such a great mood. Close inspection would reveal that both of them had rings under their eyes, products of having stayed up the whole night doing two tasks. The first was learning the latest addition to Raelyse's arsenal but the second was a considerably rarer occurrence within Istien's walls. None noticed of course but as Raelyse left, he carried with him not one, but two blades. There was his usual sword cane which helped him walk effectively, but strapped to his waist was a finely crafted rapier that had been a recent purchase. Both pulsed with new energy and that added to Raelyse's elation at having learnt a new song.

It was a good day.

Stem was waiting like a good underling outside Istien's walls, like he had been since the crack of dawn. Unlike his leader, he had turned in early after cleaning the horses and the carriage. He sat in the driver's seat, on the verge of falling asleep when the scabbard of a finely crafted sword landed hard on his lap, instantly dismissing any thoughts of resting from his mind. He turned instantly to his left where a grinning Raelyse stood, his hand extended, indicating that he had thrown his rapier firmly onto the lap of the gnome.

"Well done," the prince said, with a smile across his face. "I give you one task all night, to fetch my rapier, and now you sleep on the job. Those are grounds for dismissal, gnome. Under any other boss..."

The prince continued to talk, but the gnome ignored him and jumped off, moving towards the passenger seat and opening the door, allowing Raelyse to enter, even as he continued to talk. The driver handed the prince his sword, which he snatched roughly from his grasp. Stem glanced up at his leader, disdain in his eyes, even though he was trying his best to hide it.

"To Erebus, Grander?" the gnome asked.

"Nay, good hobbit," he said, out of jest. Even though he was tired, Raelyse's excitement was keeping him awake. Even then...

"Take me to the Magic Mule . I know it is somewhere in Eluriand and I wish to rest before we make for Erebus. Perhaps we leave tonight, I know not how much beauty sleep I require this night."

The prince glanced up through the window on the opposite door, not even noticing that the carriage had started to move and the door had long been slammed close. Stem was growing frustrated, not that Raelyse knew or cared.

"The curse of my beauty... It's so hard to hate it..."

[Chiroptera]

The trip was shorter than she’d expected; she’d seen the cobbled roads exchanged for grass by the thin light of dawn and then they’d reached the tunnel and all she’d seen since was stone. Looking up from the vampire’s heels had revealed that they were moving down a steeply-sloping tunnel that had been paved with orderly steps, the smooth walls on either side painted in reddish-brown designs that Eltarri was jostling too much to clearly discern.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

The icy voice had stopped her captors in their tracks. The one that carried her spoke hesitantly. “Let me explain . . .”

“You didn’t turn her, did you?”

“Gods, no.” The other kidnapper’s voice was unnaturally loud. “We’re going to hold her ransom.”

“Did you find the guys who did Sol?”

“Long story short . . . no. Not yet.” Her captor walked forward and she was dropped suddenly and carelessly to the floor. “We need to go back into town.”

Face finally free of the vampire’s cloak, she quickly surveyed her surroundings by the light of a torch in the hand of one of the men. It was a large room, big enough to fit about fifty people comfortably, and the ground and walls were of smooth grey stone. The floor sloped gently away from where she was, and looking up at the waist-high thing behind her made sweat break out on her forehead. As far as she could tell, she was lying against an altar that was the big enough for sacrificing someone of her size! Was this some kind of underground temple? Looking back at the men in the room with her, Eltarri counted three others aside from the ones who had captured her. Five? I couldn’t even take care of one when I had my sword!

“You expect us to leave her here?”

“She can’t go anywhere.” Her kidnapper had regained his boldness and spoke defiantly, challenging them to contradict him, which none did.

One of the men approached her with thick ropes, quickly tying her ankles and securing the bonds around her wrists, ignoring her feeble protests as the hemp rubbed against her bare skin. Then he moved towards the other side of the room and they left in a group, taking the torch with them and speaking in quiet murmurs, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts to shiver in the cold and to stare futilely into the silent darkness.

It seemed like hours before the whisper of motion caught her ears. Steps approached from the tunnel, and then the orange glow of a torch illuminated the figures of two men moving towards her at a walking pace. They stopped in front of her, the one without the torch a few feet closer than the other.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

She stared at the boots in front of her face, preparing to dodge in case he made any sudden moves. She jerked back when the brown leather did shift, but instead of the kick that she was expecting, the vampire dropped into a smooth crouch, hands resting on his knees as he grinned down at her.

“Turns out we’re having trouble finding your man. Apparently he never came back from the mistress.” His eyes glinted jeeringly.

“Just get what we need,” the other one ordered wearily from behind him. She recognized him as one of her kidnappers, the one who hadn’t carried her. The vampire closest to her scowled, but he reached down and yanked the cloth out of her mouth.

“Where is he?” he demanded. Eltarri’s tongue was dry and tasted like cotton, but she glared up at the vampire, ordering herself not to show weakness.

“I travel alone,” she answered firmly.

“Maybe so, but you bed with company. Who is he?”

Eltarri tried to shake her head but only managed to scratch her cheek against the cold rock. “There is no one else. Ask the . . .” she stopped herself, deciding at the last moment not to turn the vamps onto the kindly innkeeper. The interrogation would no doubt be less than gentle, and even if she was the only one who could testify to her solitude, the woman didn’t deserve to have vampires after her just for being friendly.

The vampire’s face was rapidly darkening. “I don’t have the patience to put up with your little games. Your man never came back to your room and I need to know who and where he is.”

“The sword is mine!” Eltarri yelled desperately, her voice whiny as it echoed on the rocks. “Look at my room again. There’s only one pair of boots, one bag, the harness on the sword isn’t big enough to fit a-,”

He reached down and jerked her by her collar towards him, pale face livid with rage. With one easy movement he stood and lifted her to her feet, even though her bound ankles prevented her from being able to stand up straight. He pushed her against the stone structure behind her and transferred his grip to a tight hold on her hair, then jerked her around to face the rock.

Eltarri looked down at the altar and was surprised to see that it was hollow, filled to the brim with water that looked stale and murky even in the scarce light.

“Good enough for horses, good enough for lying sluts.” Then he pushed her head into the water. For a few seconds after her face had hit the icy liquid, Eltarri was still processing his words. Good enough for horses? Did they sacrifice horses on this thing? Then the shock wore off and the realization that she couldn’t breathe hit her like a sack of rocks. A tight grip seemed to be clamped around her chest, crushing her lungs. The vampire’s grip was tight on her hair, pressing her down, holding her beneath the surface despite her frantic struggling. Never before had Eltarri experienced the kind of panic that was pulsing through her brain.

She was only under for a few seconds before she was jerked out, wide-eyed and gasping, stagnant water flying from her hair, to face the merciless visage of the vampire.

“Who is he?”

Eltarri’s mouth hung open as she sucked in air. No wonder her mother had always warned her against going near the underground streams. People actually swam for fun?

“Please, I’m not lying,” she whimpered. “It’s my-,”

Her head was shoved down again before she could finish. She managed to take a quick breath before hitting the water, but the slimy liquid still went into her nose. Her lungs clamored for air and the breath she held turned stale and painful. When she was pulled up again, tears mingled with the dirty water that dripped from her face onto her shirt.

“Who is he?”

She stared at him helplessly. He wanted a name. He wanted a companion who didn’t exist. He wasn’t going to believe her, and the time underwater would just get longer and longer until . . .

The third dunk did last longer, long enough that her vision got blurry and pinpoints of color flashed in her brain before she was once again free of the brine. The clamp on her lungs was agony. Even being pulled out was painful from the knowledge of having to go back under. Desperation rid her of the noble intentions that had governed her tongue. With a flash of shame, dirty fluid pouring down her throat, she suddenly knew that she would give anything to stop him from pushing her back under the water. The fourth time she was pulled up for air, her lungs were burning so much that she could barely draw in a quavering breath.

“Who is he?”

Her jaw worked, but her throat was too raw for speech. The hand on the back of her head tightened and moved, but with a harsh pant she forced her voice to work.

“The prince!”

The vampire paused. “What prince?”

“Prince Raelyse. He- we came yesterday across the Black Desert to Einstein University.”

He frowned. “Einstein?”

“Istien,” the one behind him said, his tone dubious. “We saw a fancy carriage rolling through a few hours ago . . . she might not be lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Now that she had submitted, all she could think about was making sure that they didn’t punish her anymore. Cold air from the water wafted up to her face, promising pain and frigid suffocation. She’d tell them she’d danced naked across the desert if it meant that they would leave her alone.

The vampire who held her hair sneered contemptuously. “Good girl.” He dropped her against the edge of the stone and set off across the chamber with the other one close behind.

“Tell Grim and Kale to find the carriage and deliver the note. We need to be ready for him.”

The other vampire responded, but their voices trailed away as they ascended through the tunnel. Eltarri leaned weakly against the altar and slid back to the floor, shaking from the cold and hating herself for being so pathetically weak.


__________

The dark-clothed vampire waited against a building, leaning nonchalantly with his hat tipped low over his face. The elaborate carriage across the street gleamed in the sunlight, its spotless façade tainted only by the wear to the wheels that closer inspection had revealed. Despite its frippery and uptight appearance, that little number had gone through some difficult terrain, and where could one find an unpaved road other than through the Black Desert?

A soft smile played on Kale’s lips as he ran his tongue over the sharp ends of his teeth, a habit he’d picked up after being turned. This was so much more fun than the usual robbery. The carriage’s owner was inside the building and the short little man who was apparently the driver had left his high seat, not looking very happy about having to wait in the heat.

Kale fingered the folded parchment in his hand, spreading it once again to read it over, making sure that there were no errors. As the only literate one of the group, the task of scribing the ransom note had fallen to him, but it’d been a long time since he’d made use of his elementary education.

Prince Raylease,

We have your woman and you will never see her agin if you do not give us all of your welth. Do not contact city gards and follow these directions from Istien to find us. Come alone with your trejure, or else we will kill her.

Below that was a list of directions and landmarks that would lead the prince to the ambush site. Satisfied, the vampire folded the note again and peered from beneath the brim of his hat. Catching no sight of the dwarf-sized driver, Kale smoothly straightened and walked towards the carriage, keeping his shoulders hunched to hide his unusually pale skin. He reached the side of the carriage and cast one darting look around him for the driver before pulling the door open with the barest of squeaks.

The inside of the carriage seemed a mess of cushions and pillows. Kale eyed the womanly décor distastefully, then reached out and gently set his note onto the middle of the seat. As he leaned forward, making sure that his weight didn’t rock the carriage, his eye caught something that glittered among the cushions. He made out the shape of a finely-made hilt, and that was enough to warrant a face-splitting grin that remained firmly on his face as he hurried off through the city.
_______________

“What the hell is that?”

Eltarri cowered further into a ball, eyes closed and breathing ragged as she tried to make herself disappear. The altar scared her, but its cold hardness seemed almost protective as she rested against it.

“It’s a sword,” a newly-arrived voice replied as if stating the obvious. “Got it from her prince.”

Eltarri’s eyes flew open. They’d found the prince? Did that mean he was . . .

“Did you give him the note?” This was her carrier.

“Of course. Left it in his carriage and got this free in the bargain.” His voice became a self-congratulatory chortle. “He’ll get the note next time he gets in, find his pretty sword missing, and then he’ll come here with his treasure for us to take!”

A cold silence met this pronouncement, but Eltarri sighed inaudibly. They hadn’t hurt him. Her lie hadn’t killed anyone yet.

“Wait, Kale . . . you told him to bring the ransom . . . here?”

[Raelyse]

When the prince of Myrusia awoke, it was on a fabulous goose down comforter with some of the softest and most soothing pillows he could ever imagine. Night had come to Raiaera and the ajar window allowed a slight breeze into his room, chilly but not enough to be uncomfortable. He moved to the side of his bed, slightly regretting not bringing a warm body to share the pillows with, sitting by the edge and reached for his cane. He stopped for a moment, hesitating just as his fingers touched the jet black handle, cold as ice. He glanced briefly to his left, to the window.

"Yeah, I can make it," he said to himself, slowly. Jerking himself onto both of his feet, the prince put both of his arms out to try and balance. His right foot did not immediately hurt but Raelyse knew that would come soon. With a sigh, he shifted, walking clumsily towards the window. It was the mental barrier, he knew. Often times, particularly in sparring and battles, the prince had managed to balance himself perfectly without his cane. Only now that he was thinking about failure did the trepidation arrive. He ambled, feeling like a baby taking first steps until he closed the short distance and shifted towards the window, pushing it open and resting his body on it, looking down on the dark night.

He enjoyed this area; for the rate of crime and shady activities was low this close to Istien University with so many Bladesingers and Tel Aglarim wandering the streets. The prince smiled as he enjoyed the bright lights of the city as the wind ruffled his long silver hair. He had shed his shirt and jacket some time ago, preferring to sleep with his torso uncovered so he could really feel the cold wind. Glancing down at his leg, then at his body, touched by the cold, Raelyse smiled to himself. He had become stronger and he had learnt not to love the cold of Myrusia so much. Truly, the prince enjoyed life outside of his pathetic little country, despite the title it granted him.

The prince enjoyed the sights for a bit longer, the people milling in and out (but mostly in) told him that the night was still young and the potential for that warm body to decorate his elaborate bed was still available. He contemplated the thought for a moment, before moving towards the bed and grabbing his cane, but not before lazily draping his white shirt across his shoulders and buttoning up the bottom few buttons. He had seen his carriage from the window and lazily, he had forgotten to remind the gnome to take his clothing up so now, Raelyse had to find the bugger and tell him to do it.

The prince smirked to himself, reveling in his narcissism and status for a brief moment before leaving his room.

------------------------

It didn't take long to find his carriage among those that were present for even though they were all luxurious, Raelyse’s was the only one looking a little worse for wear after a trip through a desert. The wheels appeared to be clogged with sand and dirt covered almost every part of it. The prince sighed, glancing around before moving in to inspect the vehicle further.

Before he could though, he heard a voice screaming from behind him, as well as the sound of two feet moving quite fast towards him. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was the gnome.

Stem reached Raelyse before the prince had appeared to acknowledge him, but that didn't stop him from blurting out loud.

"R-R-Raelyse," he said in between breaths, to which he received a wide eyed gasp.

"When did we get married? Because as I recall, only my wife gets to call me by my first name. That's three weeks in the guard house for you, halfling," the prince said, scoffing though his good mood from his time at Istien and his well earned nap seemed to take the edge off the tone of his voice.

Swallowing his pride for what must have been the millionth time since the sun rose this morning, Stem gathered his courage and spoke up. "Sorry, Grander," he said slowly, before remembering what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, Raelyse quickly cut him off.

"What did I say about cleaning the carriage?"

"Uhhh... Nothing, Grander..." Stem replied, his voice faster now as he realized the emergency at hand. "Prince Raelyse, we have a bit of an emergency."

''I don't care," replied the nonchalant prince, his impatience stating to resurface. "Fetch me my rapier, I want to admire it. Then bring my clothes up to my room, I'm going to go produce another heir."

Raelyse had already turned and left when the gnome shouted out loudly, "They took it!"

He stopped for a moment. Raelyse stopped everything for a moment before turning slowly. It was only then, that his blue eyes stared down Stem that he realized that the gnome was in full battle order. A small triangle with a cross through it on either arm indicated his rank, while strapped to his combat belt was a pair of maces and other pockets which no doubt held other things meant for combat.

"When were you intending of informing me of your incompetence?'

"I tried to, Grander," Stem stumbled. "But the concierge wouldn't tell me which one your room was. I tried to go after it, but you know I can't read, Sir."

''And why would you need to read, halfling?" Raelyse said slowly, anger slowly building up. His knuckles were going white grabbing the handle of his cane, the gnome observed and he took a terrified step backwards.

"They left this," the gnome replied, handing his leader a roll of parchment.

Raelyse read over it quickly before scrunching it up into a ball and throwing it hard at the gnome's face. When he looked up, the prince was visibly calmer. The nerves on his face screamed with pain at the place where he had been struck, but Stem could have sworn that the Grander looked almost... amused.

"You will follow these instructions and take me to that place. A little chivalry will boost my reputation around these parts. Though I forget which woman they are talking about, I will gladly refornicate with any of those beauties again."

Stem unfurled the paper and read the directions as best as he could before moving off, noticing the prince strutting through the streets, keeping only half an eye on him. The gnome sighed, this was the best way he could get Raelyse to come with him. He knew in his heart that he could not rescue anyone by himself and he even had a slight clue which woman they had captured.

"Oh and Stem!" Raelyse shouted. "You're not off the hook yet, leaving the carriage vulnerable to robbers... Tsk tsk tsk..."

He rambled on for a while but the gnome blocked it out like he had done so many times and merely sighed once more before consulting the crude map and moving off.

[Chiroptera]

“What’s taking him so bloody long?”

Eltarri kept her gaze on the ceiling overhead, even though she could barely see anything in the semi-darkness of the cave. She lay on her back, knees bent, arms aching, and shoulders protesting the awkward position. Her shirt was still damp, and even though the cold of the stone seeped through the thin material, she held her muscles tightly clenched to keep from shivering. She was hoping that they would forget about her, at least for the next few hours. The air was thick with tension despite the relaxed stances of the three vampires in the stone room with her. Last time she had looked, two had been squatting on the floor, playing with dice by the light of a candle while the third stood against the wall beside the entrance to the tunnel, polishing a small knife. The afternoon had passed in relative silence, the quiet disturbed only when the vampire outside came in and was replaced with one of the others. She’d spent the afternoon self-reproachfully replaying the events of the day. Her guilty conscience confronted her for not holding out for at least a few more dunks. The prince would be safe since he certainly wouldn’t leave his fancy university to rescue a beggar he met in the desert, but if Stem came out here alone and was taken by surprise again . . .

“Looking forward to guard duty?” Grim asked facetiously. Eltarri shuddered at the thought that she was beginning to recognize their voices.

“Not him, you idiot, the prince. It’s nightfall already and he still hasn’t come. Are you sure the directions were clear enough?”

“How should I know? You’re the one who let Kale write them.”

“Of course they were clear enough,” Kale retorted indignantly. “And I don’t see why I should have to stay here when I’m the one who got the sword in the first place. It should be me who gets to -,”

“Shut up.” Tarrence’s voice was terse and final. “You’re the idiot who sent him here, so you get to help welcome him. And that light better go off as soon as we get the signal.”

Eltarri could almost hear the blank stares in the silence. The vampires were certainly mean, but the longer she stayed in their presence, the surer she became that their cruelty was not equaled by their brightness.

“The . . . signal?”

“Nomell’s birdcall, idiot. He’ll give the call whenever he sees someone coming, and then he’s going to let the prince go down the tunnel so that we can jump him when he gets inside.”

“Isn’t that . . . risky?” Kale’s voice was hesitant.

“You should’ve thought of that when you sent him here in the first place!”

“What if the girl lied?” Grim said nervously. “What if this prince really wasn’t her guy?”

Silence met his words, but a few seconds later Eltarri’s view of the ceiling was blocked by the ashen face of a vampire.

“You didn’t lie to me, did you, Sunshine?” Tarrence’s voice sent shivers down her spine.

Eltarri glared at him, wishing they hadn’t put the cloth back into her mouth so that she could answer him with appropriate terminology. She knew her defiance was useless and stupid, but it helped to alleviate some of the guilt for her earlier submission. Better late than never . . .

The vampire’s mouth opened again, but a soft sound similar to that of a nightingale’s trill carried down from the tunnel.

The last thing she saw was Tarrence’s face as it jerked towards the others, and then the candle was extinguished and a heavy darkness settled over the cave, the silence broken only by the whisper of vampire movement. Eltarri’s heart began to pound as an almost painful feeling of hope swelled in her throat.

Someone was coming . . . for her?

[Raelyse]

Despite the poor workmanship of their guide, the resourceful gnome managed to decipher it and the crude lines that made up the landmarks. The further away they got from Istien University and the radius of safety it provided, Stem did get more and more nervous, especially when he heard foot steps. The maces at his waist were merely for demonstration purposes only, he had little skill with them. However, his courage quickly bucked up when the sound of his leader's ornate cane tapping on the ground behind him rang throughout the area. Raelyse certainly was taking his time, but that was not something that the gnome thought he would complain about any longer. He knew that the prince always got what he wanted and right now, he knew that he wanted his sword back. When he had touched it again, he felt an energy within the blade that was not there before.

The only confusing part was why the normally impatient noble as taking his time trotting through the city. A quick glance back every few moments or so resulted in a sweat inducing glare, but his posture did not change and he walked at an almost leisurely pace. Raelyse seemed to be on a way to a party more than to retrieve a stolen, valued item from bandits. No doubt he would have to draw arms against said thieves, though the gnome was sure they would be no match for him and his fancy swordsmanship, even with his crippled leg. Sometimes, Stem couldn't quite believe that he was crippled at all, especially when he moved with his long sword glimmering and that confident stare in his eyes.

In truth, Raelyse did want his sword back. Normally, he would have notified the Tel Aglarim or mobilized a few of the lower ranked Bladesingers on duty in the area, but the prince knew they would spoil all the fun. For his time with Legiomir had been no waste, he had garnered so much from their short encounter and yet, he had no means with which to play with his toys. The stealing of his sword was so convenient. With his status as a law enforcer as a member of the Bladesingers, he would be allowed to do what he would with any criminals caught within Raiaera's vicinity. And as he glanced down at the blade contained within his sword cane, he couldn't help but smirk and pity the criminals and the "justice" they would soon receive.

He kept his pace though, because even though he was impatient, when a carrot was dangled in front of him, the prince liked to chase it until the last possible moment before devouring it. The same applied to this bandit encounter. He would use his new toys on them until he got bored and until then, he would savor the feeling of anticipation and the chase, something he felt was almost as great as the feeling itself.

By the time Stem stopped his short little legs, they were t the entrance to what looked like a small dark tunnel, barely illuminated by the occasional torch secured to the wall.

"This is it," the exasperated gnome said, half hoping the Grander would tell him to wait here. That was a fool's hope though, for the prince quickly smacked him in the buttocks with the bottom of his cane.

"Move along, halfling. And light it up. It's too dreary here. Ambiance worse than a graveyard."

With a groan and a moan, the gnome moved into the tunnel, rubbing his back. He reached for the wand attached to his waist belt and unhooked it, pointing it upwards before chanting some magical incantation and watching as it flared to life. It provided little more than what the torches did, but managed to illuminate the area in a five foot radius. It was what was beyond that radius that scared the gnome and he trotted slowly forward, until Raelyse hit him a second time, urging him to pick up the pace which he did.

"Fun time," the prince said, widening his smirk to reveal his shiny white teeth, so perfect that they nearly illuminated the cavern further.

[Chiroptera]

Boots fell against stone steps, the soft noise like explosions to the sensitive and alert ears of Eltarri and the vampires. Eltarri’s breath caught in her chest as she strained to pick up the slightest clue of who was coming. She heard long strides, accompanied by the occasional click of something other than a heel, and the rapid footfall of a small child or . . .

Stem! Her heart leaped with joy, but a dark shadow of apprehension stilled the excitement. Who was with him? Had he brought city guards or a fellow magician? Was the other person some kind of illusion meant to fool the vampires into thinking the prince had really come? Craning her neck to peer as far into the curved tunnel as possible, Eltarri saw the still forms of the vampires, one crouching on either side of the entrance while the other stood a few meters away, between the tunnel and herself. The steps came louder, and as they did Tarrence moved from where he had been standing near the center of the room and plastered himself against the wall on the opposite side of the room from the tunnel about twenty paces away, three daggers held in one hand and a fourth in the other, arm drawn back and ready to throw.

Eltarri pushed against her bonds, knowing already that it was a lost cause. A flash of inspiration struck her, and loath to once again be completely useless to Stem as he rescued her from vampires, she threw herself sideways, garbling a yell through the cloth in her mouth in the hope that even a slight warning would be better than nothing at all.

Her muffled voice and rolling continued for only a few seconds before she was halted, lifted, and tossed like a corpse back in the direction she had come from. She came down on the other side of the altar, a few paces away from the back wall, her hip smacking into the stone as she landed with an audible thump. The side that had hit the floor immediately began to throb, but her thoughts were distracted by the weight of a knee that pressed into her side, holding her down. View restricted to the backside of the altar and unable to roll away, she looked up at the crouching form of the vampire as he peered intently over the altar, knives poised in his hands. Had he been fast enough to put them away before running to grab her, or had she just been lucky enough not to get cut?

The weight of his knee was enough of a warning for the girl to remain motionless and silent, straining to hear anything over the beating of her heart and hoping that her pathetic warning had reached the ears of her rescuer.

[Raelyse]

It wasn't too long before Raelyse sensed a presence within these tunnels. He had been almost completely tuned into one of his many magical talents, the ability to sense other beings through their electric impulses. Stem and himself were obviously being felt at all times but the prince sensed a unique one, a different impulse that he had never felt before. He could not predict where it was exactly, but he knew that it was some way ahead him in the tunnel. There was something strange about it, the being that was generating it was not quite dead and not quite alive.

"Undead," the prince said whispered, slowly to himself as he turned his concentration back to the tunnel and relinquishing his affinity for his present environment. "Those vampires in the desert must have had friends."

Raelyse continued to walk, even picking up the pace and poking Stem a few times. The light from the gnome's torch was so obvious that their enemies would be finely placed for an ambush. The prince had foreseen this, but hardly cared for in this cramped passageway, there was little chance for hiding places and there was no chance of any of them sneaking up behind them, he had sensed no one behind them.

Stem, on the other hand, seemed to slow, his quivering knees barely being able to carry him further before he suddenly stopped, thrusting his torch forward. The tunnel opened up into a large plain area and the light created some menacing looking shadows.

"Do you think it's safe to go?" the gnome asked, though the sounds of his chattering teeth attempted to drown out his voice.

Stem paused. When he heard no response, he was almost too afraid to turn around. Without Raelyse, he had no chance against even one of these undead thieves, and he was almost perfectly sure that there was more than one. It wasn't long before his fears were allayed, albeit in a way he never predicted.

When he finally bucked up enough courage to turn his neck slowly, he received a nasty surprise. Before he could even open his mouth to scream, he felt a sharp pain in his back and then he was flying through the air at incredible pace, falling a fair few feet away from where he was standing a moment ago. His torch fell from his grasp and the gnome looked up to see it roll along the tunnel floor until a foot stepped on top of it and it ceased all movement. A pale hand reached down and picked up the torch. Stem felt his heart stop. The light from the torch confirmed his fear, he was in the presence of thieves who shared more than a few similarities with those he had encountered in the desert.

"So, you're the prince?" the vampire said, shifting to his left to reveal two more of his brethren who stepped out from is right.

"You don't look quite as filling or as tasty as we had imagined," a second one sighed.

The third vampire smiled to reveal a row of grimy, yellow teeth. His mouth opened to say something, but a loud, commanding and prominent voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Shame," it said. It was coming from the darkness, from the direction that the gnome had flown forward from. The light from the torch could just barely make his frame out, though his face was shrouded in darkness. "Lots of women have agreed and I distinctly remember one of your seedy brothers thinking Prince Raelyse was decidedly delicious."

It was then that the sound of a cane tapping on the ground echoed throughout the large cavern and the figure stepped into the light. Stem didn't need to turn to know that it had been Raelyse who had pushed him and Raelyse who was now, in a slight sense at least, coming to his rescue. Even in the darkness, the gnome swore that he could see those perfect, glimmering teeth in between a pair of smirking lips.

The prince of Myrusia was now standing just outside the light radius of the torch, shadows cast across his face and body. His smile widened and he stepped further into the light, before leaning heavily on the cane held in his right hand.

"Then I chopped his head off."

Raelyse paused, shaking his head slowly and raising his left hand to inspect his nails.

"For you though, I imagine I'll have a slightly different reaction... seeing as I didn't get any compliment."

[Chiroptera]

The sounds of the approachers grew louder and louder, building to a mini-crescendo that consumed every ounce of Eltarri's attention. She couldn’t see anything around the altar, but soft light reflected off the high ceiling overhead, and the footfalls came to sudden halt. Then the sound of Stem’s voice, oddly tremulous and questioning, rang through the cavern. He’d come for her! Then a loud thump echoed after, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting rock. A relatively small body.

Eltarri’s stomach lurched. Stem!

“What the hell . . .” The pressure of Tarrence’s knee lifted as the vampire suddenly rose and slid away across the stone. Free of his restraint, Eltarri began a frantic undulation, trying to wiggle around the altar to get a better view of what was going on, but she froze when Tarrence spoke, his voice tinged with relieved derision. She was near one of the narrow sides of the altar, almost close enough to see around it, but she didn’t move, afraid that her shuffling might make her miss something important. The prince couldn’t be there . . . did they think Stem was the prince?

Eltarri heard Grim call out a taunt in his whiny voice and she was about to try to move again when a familiar voice spoke, one that made her feel as though her spine was being slit by a cold, sharp knife. Her eyes widened and a squeak left her gagged mouth. There was only one person who could speak like that.

The real prince was here?

His commanding voice rang through the cave, echoing off every stone and bouncing his arrogant words towards her ears as if to mock her helpless fear. He spoke with confidence, posturing as though the vampires that surrounded him were mere insects that could be dispatched with a wave of his pale, soft hand. What kind of silly bravado was this? Why had Stem let him come?

Stem, please don’t let the prince die! She didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if a prince died because of her, even if he was as condescending and pretentious as this one. The click of a cane on the floor made Eltarri wince, shaking her head in angry amazement. Stem was a fool. The prince was inept and handicapped? He must have ordered Stem to bring him out of some silly sense of adventure or something equally idiotic. Boys and their childish, self-centered tendencies . . .

Eltarri tried to block out the prince’s supercilious voice as she again began to worm her way forward, moving slowly in an attempt to keep their attention away from her. If the vampires had already been able to take him by surprise, Stem was going to need all his wits about him just to keep himself and the pampered prince alive.

[Raelyse]

“The light of the torch barely lit up the area as the vampire brought his hand over to cover it, darkening what was surely going to be an arena in a few short moments. The three undead thieves eyed Raelyse, completely ignoring the gnome, who was all but a whimpering mess now. Stem crawled away to hide from four pairs of eyes, knowing that staying in the way would only endanger himself.

"Your intimidation and your little tricks with the light are pitiful at best," the prince goaded, extending his left hand. For a moment, the ring on his finger glinted. It appeared to be nothing more than a trick of the eye, a reflection of what little light still remained in this area. The widening of Raelyse's smirk and a more even stance revealed more though. Te prince had mobilized his muscles, temporarily giving himself strength for the battle ahead. "Only little boys are afraid of the dark."

The vampire laughed, motioning something to his two companions, who moved away from the center to move around Raelyse so they could attack him from three different sides. They each drew their weapons, one had a short sword, another had a small hammer and the one with the torch wielding it like a flaming club. Not for much longer, for the vampire grinned sheepishly, placing his left hand into his mouth and wetting it in his saliva.

"A little old for thumb sucking, aren't you?" the prince said, in between a chuckle. Shifting onto the balls of his feet, Raelyse moved his fingers along the handle of his sword cane, rubbing its smooth surface before sliding his palm around it and grabbing it firmly.

The vampire made no response to Raelyse's snide comment and moved his wet hand onto the tip of the torch. He blew it gently with his breath, before placing his fingers over the flame. The last thing the prince of Myrusia saw was his face curl up in pain before all light vanished from the area.

"Lights out," the vampires said, almost all in unison before the sound of the wood falling against the ground echoed throughout the cave. A loud shrrriiiikk followed and the prince knew instantly that it was the sound of a poorly crafted sword leaving its sheathe. This would be easier than originally thought.

"Wrong," the prince responded, calmness running through his voice. He shifted backwards onto his left foot, pushing back the dirt on the ground loudly. "I'm a kind soul, though. I just left University and I'd feel bad if I didn't share knowledge with the masses. Let me educate you on..."

Raelyse paused for dramatic effect.

"Elven Magic."

As soon as those words left his lips, he unsheathed his long sword in one swift motion, the near silence indicating how fine the magnificent blade was crafted. That was not all though, for in a moment Raelyse concentrated, remembering his lesson with Legiomir just before. He smirked as the magic flowed from his body and into the newly christened Findemaxa. The weapon pulsed with energy and then in one swift motion, it lit up.

Light bathed into the entire cavern, emerging from the blade and spreading into every crevice, every corner and every nook in the vast cavern. It glowed, it shone with the light of the sun and it ensured that the entire cave did as well. It was so bright that even Stem, crouched on the ground had to cover his eyes, even though he was not looking directly at it.

The vampires on the other hand, were not so lucky. They had been looking at Raelyse and the sudden emergence of such incredible light had stunned them and they each moved away, almost all in unison to cover their eyes. Their eyes throbbed in pain, so much so that even with their eyelids protecting, they could still see that horrible, searing light.

Stem turned, shielding his eyes to glance at the prince, who simply glanced at him, nonchalance etched on his face.

"Go for my blade," was all that the gnome needed as he scampered down the tunnel and away from the horrible, burning light.

Amidst it all, the prince of Myrusia strode into the center of the cavern, still holding his blade high in the air, watching as it exuded light that could rival the sun's itself, seemingly immune to its glow.

"Findemaxa, the Light," the prince introduced, glancing at his sword like a lovestruck teenager. His already magnificent blade was now infinitely grander.

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri had the urge to kick up a shuffling crawl so that she could get around the altar to see what was going on on the other side, but the prince’s posturing taunts kept her still, partially from fear of being seen by him, but mostly out of concern for Stem’s plan. He had to have a plan. What other explanation could there be for his silence while the prince vainly boasted and angered the vampires? The silver-haired royalty had to be functioning as a distraction while Stem worked up his magic.

But what was going on with the childish teasing? 'Afraid of the dark?' 'Too old to suck your thumb?' They were spitting petty insults like children she’d seen bickering in town. Was it normal for men to behave so juvenilely when about to attempt to kill one another? Rolling her eyes, Eltarri bent her legs and was preparing to try to push herself across the stone when the cavern went suddenly and utterly dark. Something clattered to the floor, then there was the telltale sound of a drawing blade, and Eltarri’s heart started pounding again. She couldn’t remember if the vampires had sheathed swords, but she knew for sure that the prince did, a fancy-looking weapon that had looked delicate enough to snap in half at first impact. Had he drawn in the dark? Was he planning to attack three armed vampires alone with a flimsy rapier?

Stem, save his stupid—

The arrogant voice rang again, filled with self-satisfaction and a steely assurance that almost made Eltarri believe that he knew what he was doing. Then the room exploded into fierce, blinding light, so brilliant that it stung through her eyelids when she reflexively snapped them shut. The girl rolled onto her stomach, wishing she could bury her head into the stone to escape the glare. Was this Stem’s brilliant plan? To distract the vampires with the prince’s pomposity while he worked to cast this hideously bright light-spell? Surprised shouts of pain came from the vampires, accompanied by the shuffle of feet as they stumbled across the floor and against each other to escape the burning radiance. Eyes still tightly shut, Eltarri tilted her head to better hear, trying to figure out how the prince had reacted to Stem’s offensive magic over the cries of the vampires.

“ . . . my blade,” was all that she heard, and then the pattering of feet as someone ran quickly back up the tunnel. The light must have been too much for the prince, so he’d left Stem to finish the vampires and find the stolen weapon! Eltarri nearly sighed aloud in relief. Stem would kill the vampires and set her free, and then she could help him find the sword that Kale had stolen.

She froze at the sudden reminder. Turning her head to face the wall behind the altar, Eltarri opened her eyes just enough to take a quick glance at the ground beside her. She snapped her eyes shut again and hissed at the pain of the afterglow, but the look had been enough to calm her most recent fear. If vampires could go down a secret passageway, what was to stop them from coming back up? But the stone was still and undisturbed.

The sounds of scuffling and swearing grew louder and Eltarri instinctively pulled her legs as close to her body as possible as the vampires stumbled in her direction, approaching her feet as they bumbled with arms thrown across their eyes.

“I can’t see!” Grim’s whining moan told Eltarri that they were gathered right beside the altar.

“Get off me, you idiot!” Tarrence’s snarl lost some of its fierceness to pain. “You don’t need to see him to kill him. Even if you couldn’t smell him you could just use your ears; he’s hasn’t stopped talking since he bloody got here!”

“You didn’t tell us he was magical,” Kale whimpered angrily.

Tarrence growled and slammed a fist against the rock. “Shut up and flank him!”

All three vampires moved at once, running with superhuman speed to surround the source of the light. Eltarri squirmed against her ropes, wishing she could at least use a hand to cover her stinging eyes. Her heart was still racing with worry, but at the same time she was relieved. The prince had flown, and if Stem was capable of magic this powerful, she had no doubt that he could handle three half-blind vampires.

[Raelyse]

For a moment, Raelyse stood and admired the scene that was unfolding before him. None of his opponents were moving, though he could tell they were getting used to the glaringly bright light. Legiomir had enchanted the weapon, had even showed him that even though his opponents would barely be able to open their eyes, but his own were completely unaffected. In fact, as Raelyse glanced upon his finely crafted sword, he realized that it shimmered and glowed, though not much more than it did before. He turned it about, sadistically chuckling as he saw the vampires move and twist and turn to cover their eyes from the changing angles of the blinding light.

"Now," he said, after the entertainment had waned. "Since we are in Raiaera, the land of the delightfully whimsical elves, I believe I should sing a song? Any requests?"

He got only growls and grunts for replies.

"Have you heard Naik'Pilin's Final Aria?"

Raelyse took a deep breath and let his sword rest by his side. He felt energy flow through his body, congregating from all over his frame and focusing gradually in his mouth. He felt the notes, he felt the melody of the Anthem of Pain on the tip of his tongue, but he held back. He moved his sword behind him, watching as the vampires recovered from the now reduced light. As his lips widened to reveal glinting white teeth, the prince thrust his weapon forward, presenting it, and its blinding white light, to the vampires that stood before him. They nearly fell back in surprise, but it was too late for them. For as they brought their arms to cover and shield their eyes, they realized that they could no longer move.

--------

The sounds of a beautiful elven song drowned out the screams of pain, but Stem knew that they were there. He winced in disgust, running as fast as he could down the tunnel and trying to ignore as best as he could.

"I'm no warrior," the gnome sighed to himself. He panted as he moved, wiping the sweat slowly from his forehead. "And I'm no runner either. I'm a goddamn stable boy."

It wasn't very long before Stem saw a brief light up ahead, instantly guessing that it was where they were holding Eltarri. The light indicated that a large cavern was up ahead, though the gnome foolishly decided not to cast a detecting spell of some sort. If there was an enemy inside, he wouldn't have known but such was his presence of mind at that exact moment that he hardly cared. When he saw that girl, messed up with Raelyse and his bastard ways, he could hardly control any of his emotions. It wasn't helped much when he saw Eltarri tied and secured to an altar, as if she were about to be sacrificed.

With all the grace a gnome could muster, he ambled up onto the platform, reaching for a small hunting knife he had hidden in his boot. Before she even spoke, he had her arms undone and was working on her legs before he calmed down. With a smile, he glanced up at her with his soft brown eyes.

"Hey darlin'," he said with a smile. "I brought you a present."

He reached for his belt and produced a small pellet, about the same size as a pebble. It was cyan in color, a beautiful shade that seemed to glimmer in what little light remained in here. With a smile, he threw it on the ground, a small fog forming instantly where it had landed. When the strange purplish mist had disappeared a few moments later, Eltarri's sword lay propped on the floor, in even better condition than she had left it.

"Don't you love magic?"

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri let out a muffled cry of outrage when the unmistakable voice of the prince rang through the cavern once again.

He’s going to sing?

How was he even still here? If the prince was still in the cave, he couldn’t have been the one who’d fled through the tunnel. If all the vampires were present – and she’d just seen all three only seconds ago – that left only . . . Stem? But he couldn’t have run away; light was still blazing through the cave, and who else could have cast the spell?

“Have you heard Naik'Pilin's Final Aria?”

Eltarri broke into frantic motion, wiggling forward to get around the altar, trying to see if Stem really had left the idiot prince to serenade the vampires. This was taking the whole diversion strategy idea too far! She’d only moved a few inches along the ground when the first agonized scream split the air, freezing every nerve in the girl’s body. It was a cry not just of pain, but also of terror and helplessness, the cacophony of a trapped animal that knows it cannot escape. Eltarri, pressed against the cold stone of the floor and eyes closed in the blinding light that still filled the cave, couldn’t bring herself to move. Her shoulders jerked, trying to bring her hands up to cover her ears, but no matter how she turned her head she couldn’t block out the vampires’ dying screams.

What did you think would happen when Stem came to kill them? The nagging voice mocked the unexpected empathy she was feeling for the vampires. She’d cheered earlier at the thought of a rescue, but now, when faced with the hard facts that such a rescue entailed, she balked at the thought of the carnage that her freedom was demanding. She hated to admit that their deaths were her fault just as much as they were of the one who was actually killing them.

A new sound suddenly began to flow through the cave, a soaring melody that reverberated through the cave and covered the vampire’s cries like paint over an ugly wall. The light was still glaring through her eyelids, but Eltarri once again began to squirm forward, fighting the desire to lie still for what little protection the altar offered. She wouldn’t need protection if the vampires were dead, except from the inevitable condescension of the prince . . .

The feeling of metal sliding against the inside of Eltarri’s wrist made her yelp through the cloth in her mouth, but by the time she’d rolled onto her back, her hands were free and somebody was crouched by her feet, sawing at the ropes that bound her ankles. Propping herself up with aching arms, she opened her eyes and squinted at the small figure. Bright light burned her retinas, but illuminated by the excruciating glow were brown hair and friendly eyes that made Eltarri’s jaw drop with dumb amazement.

“Hegnn?”

She hurriedly pulled the cloth out of her mouth to try again, but the gnome spoke before she could, with a smile that made Eltarri want to burst into tears. Her jaw was sore and her tongue felt as though it had sprouted fur, but she watched with childish fascination as Stem pulled a little rock out of his belt and summoned a small cloud of colored smoke. She looked up at the gnome dubiously, wondering why he was wasting time with silly tricks, but when she glanced again at the purple vapor, she let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure.

Her sword! Cleaner and sharper than it had been when she’d seen it last, the red hilt gleaming as though it’d been polished. Eltarri's eyes began to water as though she was being reunited with an old friend. She was too overcome with emotion to answer Stem’s question, able only to nod emphatically as she leaned forward to pick up the weapon. Holding the sword on her lap, Eltarri felt a rush of energy flow through her limbs, driving away the cold and the fear that had dominated her thoughts. She was bare-armed, barefoot, and still slightly damp from her dunking, but as she looked again at the gnome, her eyes shone with newfound strength.

“Stem, you’re amazing,” she declared over the still-echoing song, unable to think of anything better to say that would convey her gratitude. Finally free of the bonds that had stifled her movement all day, Eltarri steeled herself for what she knew she had to do next. Taking a final glance at Stem's kind face for comfort, she pushed herself to her feet and, still squinting in the bright light, turned reluctantly to look over the altar to see what had become of the vampires and the prince.

[Raelyse]

Dusting himself off was something that Raelyse found himself doing even when he was almost perfectly clean. Maybe he liked the feeling of grooming himself but most probably, he felt that it made him feel as if he was superior. In this case, the former was definitely true for as he strutted past the fallen vampires and deeper into the tunnel, his impeccable clothing was barely dirtier than when he had first put them on. The prince did not even honor his downed enemies with the glimpse, he was almost astounded with how easily they had gone down. More realistically though, he was amazed at his own ability and how much his song skills had improved and how powerful they had become. A childish smirk formed across his lips, the one a boy got when he had first accomplished something of notice. The thing was, Raelyse always felt that way.

Voices rang in the prince's ear and one that was strangely familiar in particular accompanying the all too familiar gnome's voice. As his now sheathed sword cane brought him closer into the larger chamber and what little light revealed itself, Raelyse found his mood slowly change from one of pride to one of disappointment and then anger. He could not feel the energy of his rapier the way that Findemaxa's aura reverberated through his veins. It was not here, or at least, not near by.

Before Stem's small frame had come into his line of vision, he had already quickened his pace, knuckles now white from gripping the handle of his cane so firmly. As soon as he saw that trademark rough brown hair, Raelyse's voice rang through the cavern.

"WHERE IS MY SWORD?" the words said as they emerged from the prince's mouth. They echoed a few times after the gnome turned to face his master, still holding that knife in his hand.

"I have no idea, to be honest, Sir," the timid gnome replied . "I thought it would be here, with Eltarri. But evidently, they took it. I've used some basic divination and..."

"Eltarri?" the prince said in between gritted teeth. His face turned to the figure who shared the cavern with them. It was then that he remembered. "YOU! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be carrion for the vultures by now?"

Stem quickly stepped in front of his leader, diverting his rage for a brief moment. "I've used some basic divination and..."

Raelyse was too angry though and would not even think about letting something, even this petty go. "So this is 'my woman' that those pathetic undead thieves were talking about? You're not even fit to lick the dirt from in between my toes, let alone rest your head on my pillow! What a Thayne-Forsaken comparison!" The prince fumed, throwing his head up in rage. "And my goddamn rapier because of her..."

Stem started to speak but Raelyse cut him off.

"Gnome, bring your little girlfriend as a meat shield. She'll fetch my rapier for me. I don't care what you think, this is all your fault!"

Stem wanted to speak and saw that Raelyse had now finished venting.

"I used a divination spell and located a second passage. A magic presence lies further down it..."

Raelyse looked at either of the two 'people' before him and sighed.

"What a day..."

[Chiroptera]

Every ounce of courage and fortitude that reuniting with the sword had given Eltarri vanished in a traceless mist when Raelyse’s booming voice attacked her ears, reverberating from every surface of the cave. In the center of the storm stood the prince, a vision of unwavering perfection in his spotless apparel and immaculate grooming, radiating regality with the deliberate indifference that only the very rich and powerful can affect. The prince’s flawless appearance further convinced Eltarri of his lack of involvement in the rescue; there was no way anyone who had come through a fight like the one she'd heard could look so completely unaffected. His offhand composure was an incongruous contrast to her own bedeviled appearance and that of the gnome, who rushed from behind the altar towards the angry-looking prince, speaking in a voice that was no doubt meant to calm the prince’s petulant ire.

Eltarri stood with her sword lowered, fighting the rush of embarrassment that burned across her face. Wet, bedraggled, without shoes or jacket . . . she must look like a complete ninny! She winced when he spat her name as though it were an obscenity and cringed when he turned fiery blue eyes and commanding voice onto her presence. The girl had never before wished so fervently that she didn’t exist. She heard Stem’s futile attempts to change the subject, but the diminutive driver was no match for the towering rage of the prince.

When he finally ran out of steam, Eltarri was too cowed to do anything but stare at him dumbly. She had expected the prince to be too self-absorbed to care about anyone else, but the loathing with which he spoke made her wonder if maybe he wasn’t as self-attuned as she’d thought. There was no way someone could despise her that much without having some kind of reasoning, so he must have been more aware of her than she’d assumed. The thought that she was capable of inspiring such a depth of hatred made Eltarri’s stomach twist.

He didn’t let Stem come for me. He just came for his sword and made Stem do all the work to get it.

The disappointment that welled up in Eltarri’s throat made her angry at herself for her own naivety. Had she really thought that a bloody prince would come all this way and fight for her? It suddenly struck the girl that her rescue was just a fortunate coincidence; if Kale hadn’t stolen that sword, Stem wouldn’t have come to get her either.

A welling of self-pity made her want to cry again and the half-elf sniffed, trying to block out Stem’s insistent voice. He was telling the prince as much as he knew about the underground passageway, but Eltarri turned her back on the pair and sat on the edge of the altar with her sword between her knees. The magic that had opened the passageway was a kind that defied logic, and she was fairly sure that there was no way even the gnome would be able to figure out its working. She, however, had spent the entire day within three feet of the entrance. She'd watched as it’d been opened for the sword-smuggling vampire, and she was certain that she knew how it had been done. But the prince’s harsh voice stayed in her mind, replaying his heartless diatribe over and over.

If he wants his 'goddamn rapier' so badly, she thought spitefully, he can ask this 'meat shield' for help or he can figure out how to open it by his 'goddamn' self.

[Raelyse]

Stem glanced hopelessly at Eltarri, hoping she would let something go as he laid face down before Raelyse's barrage but realized that he would get nothing. She had been traumatized and the prince, ruder now than he was usually was not making a particularly good impression on her. Sighing hopelessly, the gnome took out his divination wand, chanting something softly and poked it around, waiting for when it would light up, indicating that Raelyse's rapier would be in that direction. His eyes occasionally turned to observe the two humanoids who did little to even acknowledge each other than a trademark Myrusian scowl from the royal one. Eltarri seemed to be fuming like only a woman could, sitting there and conversing within her mind to herself.

"I should have become a gardener," the gnome complained. He shook his head slightly from side to side, regretting lying to his leader about a divination spell. He had things like that in his arsenal, only that they took a while to be effective and it was a shame that time was now under the constant gaze of his impatient leader.

So it was with great joy that Stem's eyes lit up when the wand glowed a faint blue when it pointed in the relevant direction. The little one nearly let his lips emit a yelp of joy, before he realized that he was facing straight into an enormous stone wall. It had to be an illusion or a magical trap, the gnome deduced, because everywhere else in this 'room' had something against the stone wall. A quick poke and a general detection spell did nothing, so it was with great trepidation that he slowly turned around, to glance at Raelyse, who was now leaning heavily on his cane, glaring at any and everything in this room.

"Sir?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Somehow Raelyse heard him because his face only darkened.

"What is it, halfling? I don't see a rapier... but somehow the Jya herself appeared in this room because that lazy woman doesn't appear to be doing much of anything. It's okay though, because she's royalty, am I correct?" he said, his voice laced with disdain and sarcasm. In a way, it cheered him up slightly.

"I've found the passage," Stem said, trying to butter up his leader, hoping that would make him more receptive to the news that would come later. Only after the words left his mouth did he realize that was nothing but a fool's hope.

"Then open it, fool," Raelyse said, his gaze now totally focused on the gnome, the prince even making a few steps forward towards his underling. "I'm growing increasingly tired at your continued incompetence. Do you want me to show you how my slavers motivate the Katuz'Veit?"

The prince lifted his left hand, opening his palm to face the gnome. This was the stance that Raelyse adopted before he would cast magic, specifically, the lightning bolts he could conjure to torture the clan of dwarves enslaved to his power group, the Grander's Order. "My men do a better job," the prince continued, sending shivers and cold sweat down the gnome's spine. "But still, I am the teacher."

Stem could hear the crackle in the room and didn't need to turn around to know that lightning was already forming on his fingertips. If he didn't show Raelyse progress, the gnome knew real pain would course through his body very soon. Turning his head, he glanced at Eltarri, hoping that she could help.

"I need the girl's help," he said, panting. "She knows... Please help..."

[Chiroptera]

((Bunnying!))

It was the fear in Stem’s voice that shook Eltarri out of her pout, drawing her eyes to the side so that she saw the look of terror on his face. She followed his gaze, twisting until she could see the prince, whose hand was stretched out threateningly towards the gnome. She wanted to scoff and dismiss the pansy's silly posturing, but her small friend seemed far from amused as his leader’s antics, and the girl thought better of it. But how could the prince threaten Stem? Was there some kind of enchantment on his ring that affected his servants? She remembered overhearing the word slaves. Was Stem somehow being forced to serve him? The realization that a wizard as powerful as Stem was afraid of whatever it was Raelyse’s ring could do to him made Eltarri swallow her pride. He may not have come down to save her, but she still owed him for the rescues in the desert. She pushed herself to her feet and turned reluctantly to the prince, fighting the instinctive cowardice that made her feel as though she should grovel at the feet of royalty.

“Wait! Just wait. You don’t have to hurt him . . . I’ll help.” The surrender was painful and Eltarri turned away from the prince before he could redirect his angry gaze. She looked down at the secret passage’s entrance, its doorway invisible in the stone. Her throat tightened at what had to come next, but she pushed away the revulsion. “The doorway is sealed magically, and it’s activated by blood. Stem, can you-,”

The gnome had already sprung into motion, darting past the prince towards the site of the recent carnage. Eltarri set her sword against the altar and kneeled down, running a finger over where she remembered the opening to be. Stem came to a sliding halt beside her, knife in one hand and a pale finger in the other.

“If we’re quick, the blood should still be wet enough to flow,” he said in a rushed breath, casting a quick glance at the prince. Eltarri blanched and fought a wave of nausea. Not fingers again . . .

Tearing her gaze away from the thumb, Eltarri looked back at the stone and gestured to the two-foot long box she had drawn in the dust, too sick to speak. Stem obligingly knelt beside her and began to run the severed end of the finger along the lines, leaving a thin trail of dark blood in its wake. Halfway through the thumb ran dry, and Stem jumped up and ran to get another one, face pale and eyes flickering anxiously from the stone at his feet to the prince. Eltarri sat back on her heels and looked up at the stone wall, unable to stomach the severed digit. When Tarrence had opened it before, he’d only slit his pinky and delicately traced the invisible seam, a far cry from the bloody marks that lined the door now.

When the square was finished, Stem and Eltarri both stood and backed away from the door, watching the blood-smeared stone with apprehension. A few seconds went silently by. Stem glanced once at Eltarri before turned anxious eyes back to the stone. She bit her lip and frantically tried to decide if her estimated dimensions were accurate. Stem’s the one who'll suffer if you made a mistake . . .

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sound of harsh grating came from the stone before her. The blood-drawn square bubbled and seemed to melt into the rock like acid as the section that the square had enclosed grindingly pushed itself up from its place. A half-foot-thick block of grey stone heaved itself up until its bottom surface was level with the surrounding terrain before it scraped loudly across the uneven surface, moving until is hit the wall a few feet away.

When the stone once again lay still, Eltarri let out a shaky breath and took a step forward to peer down into the hole that it had left. Cold air wafted up from a tunnel that was too dark to see into, though a streak of light glimmered off the top rung of a ladder a few inches below the lip of the opening.

A tremor of unease overran the elation that opening the secret passage had produced, but Eltarri summoned her courage as she turned and waved one hand at the hole, glaring defiantly at the prince. Meat shield. She tried to put as much venom into her voice as he’d put into the utterance of her name earlier, but she was sure hers came out lacking.

“After you, your highness.”

[Raelyse]

Despite his eagerness to get his hand back on his rapier, Raelyse seemed to walk relaxed down the tunnel. Though he kept reassuring himself that this was because of his naturally relaxed nature, the truth was slapping him right across his handsome face. The path was linear, though that was probably the only thing that the prince found tolerable. The area was dank, damp, humid, warm, wet and every step he made seemed to send a million little pebbles down the path. It did not matter because every step that Raelyse took, he seemed to meet those same little rocks once more and it annoyed him to no end. It was also relatively dark despite the light of one of Stem's enchanted wands and the prince had never liked not being able to see anything. This was especially true when he had a feeling that his fine clothes were being covered in the dirt of this tunnel.

"Fuck tunnel," he cursed silently to himself. "This is a damn mine shaft."

Raelyse cursed again and again, spitting on the ground to the sides of himself before further descending down. He was not walking too quick, but somehow he still managed to keep a healthy distance of about fourteen or fifteen feet from his underling and the girl, something that he was more than comfortable with. What he wasn't happy with was the fact that he could hear the two banter and the occasional giggle from not only the humanoid girl but also the chubby gnome. He hated it when he was excluded but this time, Raelyse removed that thought from his mind, reminding himself that he did not socialize with decoys and the 'help.' He had a sixth sense about his rapier being close, though whether this was because he actually had a sixth sense or because he wanted to make himself feel better was irrelevant. When Raelyse had a feeling, he usually went with it.

After about five minutes of walking, the prince's thought he saw a light up ahead but quickly dismissed it as an optical illusion after it quickly disappeared. He was not worried. The only foes he had encountered over these past few days had been weak thieves and poor vampires, hardly a threat to him, even with his crippled leg. By now though, he noticed that he could no longer hear the gnome or the girl. He sighed and turned around and was relieved that his decoys had not been kidnapped or defeated, but instead they were taking their time and the slow moving bright light was shaking, indicating that the two had shared yet another laugh.

"Gnome!" Raelyse shouted, wincing as his loud voice caused an echo and some small stones to fall from the ceiling. "Woman!"

When the light began to move fast towards him, the prince allowed himself a confident smirk and he extended his free right hand and rested it against the wall. He loved exerting the power he had over his underlings and feeling superior. It was only when the light and the gnome arrived that feeling changed into something different, something Raelyse hardly felt.

"Uhhh... Prince Raelyse," the gnome stammered, tilting his head to indicate the wall that the prince was touching.

"What is it, gno-" Raelyse began, before he jumped in shock and moved towards the center of the tunnel slowly, his eyes never leaving the wall where his hand had been moments before. None of the three moved because before them was a grand sight indeed.

Raelyse had not noticed it because he had been traveling in relative darkness and the gnome had not noticed it because he had only seen bits and pieces of it, not the sum of the parts that was now before him. For on the wall, was an enormous skeleton of a dead dragon, almost seeming to be encased in the wall. Raelyse's palm had been on the creature's eye and it only just covered it. The being looked forward menacingly and even though its bones were devoid of any flesh, it still caused the prince to step back in fear of what it might have been. Only the snout, eyes and the front of the head were visible to the party, though the head was at least 10 feet high. The huge skull easily took up the height of the cavern. It seemed to fit in perfectly, the once white bones had been dirtied by the dirt and it had only been in the light that they notice that it was not pure stone.

Raelyse, obviously traumatized, placed his hand in front of him in an inviting gesture.

"Ladies and midgets first."

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri had no trouble with the cramped quarters of the narrow tunnel; she’d spent much of her childhood exploring the nooks and crannies of the caves back home in the mountains of Scara Brae. The air was getting steadily warmer, and even though it was thick with moisture it was still a welcome change from the cold of the cave above.What bothered her was the copious layer of gravel and rocks that jabbed into her bare feet at every step. She’d assumed earlier, based on the prince’s continued transport of his black cane, that their progress would be hindered by his crippled pace. In reality, however, it was she who brought up the rear, stepping gingerly across the rocks and doing her best to keep the bobbing light of the gnome in sight. Having to carry her sword by hand didn’t make the trek any easier.

“Are you all right back there?”

Stem’s voice trailed back to her, and Eltarri looked up to see that he’d stopped and turned back to address her. She opened her mouth to reply, tripped over a rock, and tumbled gracelessly to the floor. Stem hurried back to help her off her sword, and then fell into step beside her when she wordlessly kept walking. Knees and palms stinging, Eltarri kept her eyes downcast, glancing at the gnome and hoping he couldn’t see the flush of her cheeks. His face was still grim, but his eyes were bright with contained amusement. Eltarri wanted to drop back to her position in the back of the procession, but decided that the light of his wand was a fair exchange for ridicule. She settled for a sulk and smacked her sword into the ground as if it were a walking stick, wishing she had her boots so that she could stomp.

“You seem to have had a hard day today,” Stem commented conversationally.

Eltarri glared at him, but he showed no visible sign of mocking her. Turning her gaze back to the ground in front of her, she sighed and shrugged. “No worse than most.”

The gnome turned to look at her with surprise. “This kind of thing is normal for you?”

The half elf shrugged again. “It could have been worse,” she said pragmatically. There was no way she would let the gnome know how close she had been to bursting into tears at nearly every moment before and since his arrival. She didn't need him to think she was anymore weak and useless than she already seemed.

The gnome snorted. “Yeah, I suppose so. They could have decided to give us some of your fingers with the ransom note. Or they could have tortured you to death with pronged forks and boiling water.”

Eltarri blanched. The reminder of disconnected digits and water brought back some of the more unsettling memories of the last two days.

Stem noticed her expression and quickly went on. “But there were some good things that came of this, right?”

Mind still on the images of solitary fingers, Eltarri wasn’t feeling any of Stem’s optimism. “Oh yes, definitely. I got to meet my very first prince.”

Stem couldn’t think of an appropriate response to her sarcasm. They walked in silence for a while before the silence of the tunnel and the weight of the ground overhead prompted him to speak.

“Don’t let Raelyse give you the wrong idea about royalty. They’re not all like him.”

Eltarri feigned surprise. “You mean every prince isn’t selfish, demanding, egotistical, rude . . .”

“Well . . . they are, but Raelyse is all those things to a higher-than-normal degree.” He looked at the swaggering back of the prince ahead of them before leaning conspiratorially towards Eltarri. “I think it has something to do with his hair.”

Eltarri laughed softly. “That would explain it. Is the color natural?”

Stem rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I heard once that he keeps it that color to make the job easier for the silversmiths who have to carve the idols of himself that he expects the people of his country to worship.”

Eltarri tried to muffle the sound of her giggle by putting a hand over her mouth. “He does seem to take unnaturally good care of it.”

Stem chuckled, a wicked gleam in his eye. “He probably spends hours and hours sitting in front of the mirror, brushing it the way noble women do.”

The girl burst into laughter. “Maybe he has a personal hairstylist, just to make sure that no one else ever gets the same look!”

Stem chortled vindictively. “Nah, I think he has a spell that styles it up for him. His magic has to be good for something practical other than inflicting pain.”

His words reminded Eltarri of the threat that Raelyse had used when trying to make the gnome open the tunnel. They were mocking him now, but Stem had been genuinely afraid of the prince’s intimidation. What did a prince have that would scare a wizard? Eltarri looked at the gnome, who was still chuckling.

“Stem, how powerful is the prince’s-,”

Raelyse’s voice suddenly barked from ahead. Stem and Eltarri both jumped guiltily, simultaneously thinking with horror that he’d overheard their discussion. They hurried forward, reluctant to go near him but too afraid to disobey.

Woman? Eltarri shook her head with indignation. It was better than 'meat shield,' but not by all that much. When the two were close enough to the prince to see him clearly, Eltarri relaxed. The tunnel had widened and was now about twice her height and much wider , though it seemed to grow significantly as it continued behind Raelyse. The prince stood in the tunnel just before it widened as though he were completely at ease underground, with one hand resting against the wall and an arrogant smile on his face. Her gaze was caught by the odd color of the wall that he leaned against. It wasn’t the grey stone that they’d seen in the cave, nor was it the darker rocks that littered the ground around them. It was white, porous material, streaked with yellow stains that made it seem very old.

“Uh . . . Prince Raelyse.” Stem’s voice was hesitant, and the prince’s startled reaction would have amused Eltarri if she hadn’t felt the wary uncertainty that she saw reflected on Stem’s face. Her mouth opened, but the prince spoke first and the question died on her lips.

Lady? A small part of her mind irritably noticed the progression of labels and the implication of his sudden and not quite convincing gentility, but the slight and unexpected waver in his voice told her that now was not the time to cross him. Stem had moved forward almost instantly, as though he had been trained to immediately respond to the voice of his master. Eltarri stepped cautiously after him, swinging her sword beside her like a cane as she followed the gnome out of the narrower part of the tunnel.

The wand-light that Stem had used in the tunnel wasn’t nearly bright enough to banish the shadows of this larger room, but with a whispered spell the gnome strengthened the glow, casting its pale light over the stone room before them. While the cave above had been polished and cleared of debris, the chamber that greeted their eyes now was craggy, the floor littered with huge boulders and rock formations that climbed like stairs up the sloping sides of the massive cave. Stalactites hung like giant daggers, suspended over their heads and dripping moldy water onto the debris-covered floor below. The other side of the cave divided into a few passageways that extended beyond the light of Stem’s wand, and overhead Eltarri caught sight of fractures in the wall that were too dark and far-reaching to be mere cracks. The stone was a darker color, contrasting sharply with the odd white rocks that extended from the wall like some kind of sculpture. Eltarri stepped closer to a part of the formation that looked like a hollowed skull, complete with two double rows of teeth that were almost as tall as she was. She gingerly put out one hand to touch one of the ivory-like teeth, afraid to admit what she already knew.

“Stem,” she called hesitantly, “please tell me these aren't-,”

Something round and hard smacked into the back of her head and Eltarri turned around, lifting her free arm over her face as she searched the ground behind her for the assailant. Stem was moving towards the center of the cave, wand lifted high. The ground behind her was empty except for the prince, who still stood in the segueway between the narrower tunnel and the larger cave. Her eyes narrowed. He didn’t look as though he'd been tossing stones recently, but . . .

Another rock hit her, this time striking her on the cheek and making a curse pop out of her mouth that she didn’t remember memorizing. Hoping Stem hadn’t heard the vulgarity, Eltarri hefted her sword and held it horizontally in front of her face as she slowly pivoted, trying to shield herself from whoever it was throwing stones as she scanned the walls.

“Stem, be careful,” she warned. “I think there’s someone else in here.”

The light from Stem’s wand suddenly went out. Eltarri’s heart pounded in the sudden darkness.

“Stem?”

She was answered by the sound of things rushing through the air. A stone slapped against her sword, the bracers on her arms tightening her muscles just in time to keep the blow from knocking the blade against her face. She heard something else hit flesh, and Stem’s angry shout told her that the rock-slinger seemed to be able to able to see in the dark. Her fear was interrupted by a flash of relief. At least the prince was relatively safer in the tunnel.

“Eltarri? Where are you?” The gnome’s voice was filled with worry.

“Stumbling around in the dark, same as you,” she answered. “What happened to the light?”

“Someone cast a darkness spell, it nulls out my wand.” She heard his footsteps as he drew nearer to her, interrupted occasionally by a curse as he tripped over a rock. “I don’t like this one bit. There’s some kind of powerful magic around here, and it isn’t coming from Raelyse.”

Eltarri felt as though her breathing was unnaturally loud. “But you’re a powerful magician, aren’t you?”

Unseen, Stem shook his head and opened his mouth, but the voice that boomed through the cave didn’t come from the gnome. It was masculine and commanding, so loud that Eltarri could feel its vibrations bouncing in her chest. “The only powerful magician around here . . .”

Light suddenly flooded the cave, permeating the space so fully that that it seemed to be coming from the rocks themselves. The light had a red tinge to it, and even though its sudden brightness didn’t nearly compare to the light spell that had blinded the vampires earlier, it took Eltarri a moment to adjust to the change in lighting.

“ . . . is me.”

Her mouth dropped open at the sight that met her eyes. Men stood around them, dispersed in what seemed to be random formation against the walls, weapons unsheathed and gloating smiles on their faces. Eltarri counted six, but movement at the corner of her eye told her that there were more on the other side of the skull. Standing on a ledge twenty feet in the air was a man who carried no weapon and was dressed in the silk robes of a noble. He was young and bearded and he carried in one hand a long red staff that was topped by a glowing red gem. He was thin and obviously unaccustomed to physical labor of any sort, but despite his weakling appearance his face bore a smug sneer that showed arrogance to rival that of the prince.

The reminder of royalty made Eltarri gasp, fighting the urge to look back to the tunnel. If he was still there, looking that way might give his hiding spot away. If they could keep them ignorant of the prince’s presence . . .

“I will give you one opportunity to preserve your miserable lives.” The man’s voice was nasal and high-pitched, magically enhanced so that it echoed through the cave. “What are you doing here?”

The man was looking at her. Eltarri’s mind froze, but Stem piped up from a few feet behind her.

“We’re not here to fight or nothing . . . We’re just looking for some fellows who took something from us earlier today.” He mustered a weak laugh. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen any sword-stealing vampires around here, would you?”

The men around them broke into harsh laughter. Weapons moved and feet shifted. Eltarri felt her knees begin to tremble.

“Actually, little dwarf, they-,” he gestured at the men who encircled them, “are all sword-stealing vampires. And I think I’m going to let them eat you.”

With fierce smiles the men in front of Eltarri stepped forward with lifted weapons, and then the red light disappeared and the cave was plunged into darkness, the dripping of water and the shifting of approaching attackers the only noises to break the silence.

Eltarri whimpered.

[Raelyse]

A third voice echoing throughout the cavern was perhaps one of the last things that the prince would have expected. It was a voice that resounded with power, one that held confidence. Because of the magic which made his voice imposing, the prince was sure that he was probably a tank of a man. That was until he rushed, knowing that his sword was near enough and that this man was responsible for it. He felt his muscles twinge with excitement at the potential of glancing at that fine rapier blade once again, and the fight that he would have to engage in to get it back.

Raelyse had to swallow a laugh to prevent himself from laughing when he cast his eyes upon the owner of that imposing voice. Gangly and devoid of any muscles, his opponent was dressed in robes that hardly made him look like a man five times the prince's age. He spoke to the gnome and the girl, trying to intimidate them. As he stepped between them and the way he had come down and effectively sealed off any chance of them running, he couldn't help but smile.

No doubt this one had a myriad of magical spells in his arsenal, but the prince was confident that he could deal with them and the wizard, using the subsequent confusion among the vampires to make sure they fled in terror. The way that this man spoke about them was not far from the way that Raelyse spoke about Stem and the rest of his servants. They were mere employees, possibly not by choice and at the first chance, they would flee. As long as Raelyse kept the wizard at bay, the gnome would be able to hold off the vampires.

"Don't talk to my underlings like that, wizard," Raelyse shouted, trying to make himself sound as imposing as him. Even without magical enhancement, the prince had something about him, his swagger ensuring that there was no doubting his conviction. "Aren't we all gentlemen here? I just want my sword back, then you can send your smelly servants away and I can send mine, then I never have to glance at anyone wearing a dining table cloth ever again."

The wizard fumed, in a similar way that the prince would have if anyone ever made fun of him. "Mock me at your peril, fool."

The voice was enhanced and the wizard raised his hand, obviously preparing to strike Raelyse with a spell. Unfortunately for him, spells took time and concentration. As the prince pulled his sword up slightly from its sheath, glancing at a small part of his blade. In the blink of an eye, it flared into life, instantly adopting the glow that had shone before.

"Put your hands by your side," Raelyse said, sternly. "Now."

When the wizard didn't respond, the prince of Myrusia pulled his sword from its sheath, holding it above its head and watching in sadistic glee as everyone in the cavern barring Raelyse lifted their hands to cover their eyes from the unbearable glow.

"Now my friend," the prince said, with a smile. "My sword."

[Chiroptera]

The sudden onslaught of darkness was bad enough, but the shout from behind her that broke the ominous silence made Eltarri want to groan aloud. Underling? She was too worried about his ceaseless chatter to dwell for long on the demeaning station. His posturing babble would give his position away to the vampires! Her eyes searched the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of Stem as he was no doubt rushing to protect the idiot prince. She took a step forward and stubbed one of her bare feet against a rock, then bit her lip to keep herself from making noise. It wouldn’t help Stem at all if she gave herself away and had to be rescued by him as well. Trying to remember where the vampires had been before the light had gone out, she slid her feet cautiously forward, hoping the vampires were listening more to the prince’s diatribe than to her.

“Mock me at your peril, fool!”

It wasn’t a very frightening voice, but its deadly self-assurance made it more intimidating than it would have been otherwise. The wizard was confident of his skill, certain that he was the most powerful entity in the cave, and Eltarri wasn’t inclined to disagree. He’d already been able to null Stem’s wand . . .

The room suddenly flared with a brightness that rivaled the glory of the sun. Even with her back to the source her eyes stung from the blaze. She threw her free arm across her face, the pain in her pupils ignored in the rush of triumphant relief that the reappearance of Stem’s magic sent through her. She heard the prince’s voice over the cries of the blinded vampires, but there was too much turmoil in the room to decipher his words. Eyes shut to no avail against the brightness, Eltarri wondered why the gnome didn’t use a spell that would contain the harm to just his enemies. She stumbled forward, one arm over her face and sword lifted waveringly in front of her.

“ . . . My sword.”

The prince’s voice reached her ears and the girl shook her head in annoyance. They were surrounded by vampires with only a gnome and his all-assailing light, and the moron was still only worried about his silly rapier!

“You think a little light is all that it takes to stop me?” The wizard sounded furious, but his voice was slightly muffled, as if by a sleeve that was hanging from an arm plastered across his eyes. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”

The taunt echoed, seeming to come from every corner of the room, and then his voice continued to echo through the room, sounding to Eltarri’s like nothing more than a rambling liturgy in gibberish. His voice waxed and waned, ranging in tone and volume from a whispered murmur to a fanatical shriek. Eltarri turned around, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, but it echoed evenly across the stone walls, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

“Stem, what’s going on?” Eltarri tried to shout over the mantra, but her voice was lost in the auditory storm. Accompanying the man’s rant was a new noise, the unsettling sound of shifting rock. It started as a creaking groan, the unwilling movement of ground that had been solid for centuries, and grew steadily to the grating screech of grinding rock. Dust rose into the air and the earth itself seemed to be moving beneath her feet. Eltarri moved her arm and slitted her lids, but the slightest exposure to the blazing light was all it took to make her eyes water.

In the short instant that her eyes were open, however, the brightness of the cave permitted her a glimpse of the cave. The prince stood with arm upraised and a cocky smile on his face, only a short distance away from Stem, who was inexplicably covering his own eyes. Why would he bother with a weapon that hurt even the wielder? Behind them the vampires were similarly cowering from the blaze, but the thing that made Eltarri wish her eyes hadn’t been momentarily blinded was the strange way that the white stone behind the prince seemed to be arduously lifting itself from the ground, pulled upwards by the segmented arch that connected it to the wall of the cave. The ground was still shaking, the wizard’s chant went on, and the groaning of the stone was getting louder.

And the skull was . . . moving?

[Raelyse]

The ground itself started to shake as the wizard's chant continued. Eyes belonging to every person in the cavern darted around the small area, scanning for the target of the magic. Contrary to the voice enhancement, all within seemed to know that this was serious, something that would decide the outcome of this little scuffle. Shifting movements were made, small shuffles to more clearly define the two factions. Stem, Raelyse and Eltarri moved slowly back the way they came, their eyes scanning for the danger while the vampires made their way slowly behind their master.

"Enough of the tricks!" Raelyse screamed, half out of fear but with enough left over fake bravado within him to at least begin to convince those here that he meant business. "Reveal your ace and stop wasting my time!"

The prince didn't have to wait much longer. The wizard shifted his attention to him, flashing him a look as if to say 'As you wish.' It was then that it hit Raelyse, it was then that he realized what the wizard had been doing and he cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. A posse of vampires should have made it obvious, but now Raelyse knew for sure that this wizard was a necromancer. They should have been wiped out in Raiaera by now, but evidently, one rodent had survived the extermination.

When the ground continued to shake, the prince realized where it was coming from. His head, along with everyone else's, shifted to the right of the cavern. A horrifying sight greeted them.

The dragon skeleton was now clearly shifting and moving, displacing dust and rocks from the wall of the cavern as it slowly dislodged itself from its embedding in the cave. Two green orbs glowed in the area where its eyes had once been. Despite the lack of any flesh, it was still enough to send a shiver down Raelyse's spine. It took some strength from the prince for him to twist his neck backwards and glance at his two allies, both much more scared than he was. Stem's knees had buckled and the gnome was now butt down on the ground, as close to being literally petrified by fear as possible. The prince managed to scoff, not even wanting to know Eltarri's reaction. For a second, his confidence at being superior to his companions was enough to temporarily lift his mood. This quickly changed.

The dragon's skull was now completely free from the cavern and its neck was rapidly freeing itself. Raelyse summoned his courage, searching his mind for a way to get out of this alive. He was soaked in sweat and the cavern was way too dry for him to form any sort of formidable ice spell. His lightning spells wouldn't likely work on a enemy that's body was likely as hard as the rock that it had been in for however long. The prince threw a quick glance at the magician, in some form of trance. He didn't seem to move, all of his attention most probably on animating the dragon. The vampires had already begun to run away, the echoes of their footsteps ringing through the cavern. Before he could figure out why, Raelyse noticed that the dragon was now able to strike at him. Its neck was now free enough so that it could attack its master's nearest enemy - him.

Without thinking, the prince tapped into his most primal side and used the only option he had left, his sword. Raelyse thrust his weapon straight forward, plunging the weapon deep into the snout of the creature, pushing it in so deep that the entire blade was now in the skull of the creature. The prince's fingers brushed it, feeling its rough texture, harder even than the very rocks around them. For a second, Raelyse thought he had won. The dragon had stopped moving.

Then he realized that this was the closest he would feel to being helpless. The dragon swung its neck to the left in one swift motion, throwing Raelyse into the wall of the cavern and his sword in the opposite direction, all magical effects fading without its user. The prince tried to move, but a wave of pain swam over his entire body. The dragon had thrown him with such force that he felt a bone crack with every movement he tried to make. Blood soaked his silver hair, moving across his pale face.

It was not nearly over though. The dragon moved its head towards the prince, opening its jaws to reveal a row of teeth leading to a neck which now showed nothing more than a row of bones. It stayed there for a moment, as if to taunt the prince. Raelyse closed his eyes, without the strength to even think of his last rites or anything. He swore he smell the stench of the beast, without the logic to know that that was impossible.

Blood ran down his face and his mind shut down.

----------------------------------------------------

A cool breeze blew across Raelyse's face. A face that was strangely perfect. Even the smallest of cuts had gone and as his eyes woke up to a blurry world, the prince felt no pain. All of his wounds were gone, though he still felt as if he could barely move his body. He glanced around, but his eyes showed him nothing more than shapes.

"Am I dead?" he managed to croak out, mostly to himself.

When no response came, the prince almost took that as a yes. Fortunately for him, his luck had come through yet again and a melodic voice corrected him.

"No," a distinctly elven voice responded. "No, Prince Raelyse, you most definitely are not."

The shapes were starting to become more defined, though wherever he was still seemed to be half-dreamlike.

"The Tel Aglarim found you, unconscious and covered in cuts and bruises, as well as a fair share of broken bones, but very much alive."

Raelyse thought for a moment, but his head throbbed. Evidently, he wasn't as fully recovered as he thought.

"Where?" he blurted out. His throat was dry, but his mind was wondering.

"They didn't say. The captain told me that there were very clear signs that someone had kept you very much alive until the Tel Aglarim had arrived. They decided to respect the anonymity. Maybe there is good in this world after all."

Raelyse thought for a moment, waiting for his mind to tie the loose ends together to form some sort of cohesion. When it begun to make sense, he could not help but smile.

"What of my effects?" he said, his voice filled with renewed vigor. "A pair of swords."

"In this room, no more than a few feet. When you inevitably recover, you'll use them with the same skill you did before. You, Prince Raelyse, are very much a hero. One of your swords found the heart of a necromancer in hiding. The kingdom of Raiaera owes you once again."

Raelyse chuckled to himself.

"I can't help but be a hero," he responded.

-------------------------------------------------

Elsewhere, another one, a gnome of much shorter stature but much greater character, thought the same thing to himself.

(Spoils: Raelyse's sword cane now constantly emits a blinding light, as bright as the sun, which only Raelyse is immune to. It also grows to the strength of Mythril when exposed in natural sunlight.

His rapier also holds an unknown enchantment.)

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri was too terrified by the glimpse of moving rock to open her eyes again and risk seeing the terror again. Maybe she’d imagined it. That crumbling sound? Surely it was just the shifting of pebbles as water overhead weighed down on the rocks . . . or something. There was no reason to think that if she opened her eyes again she’d see the towering fangs of a fossilized dragon descending to bite her in half.

An imperious bellow came from nearby, the prince’s unmistakable voice showing none of the fear that was making her knees go weak. Eltarri realized with unsurprised dismay that he was the closest one to the skull. Part of her mind told her to run forward and intercede on his behalf, but an especially gut-wrenching squeal of rock made her head whip sideways and her eyes spring open for another glance at the monstrosity that was being birthed from the stone of the cavern wall.

She didn’t hear the squeak that preceded the thump of someone’s rear hitting the ground, but the sight of the stone dragon’s horned skull and opening mouth sent the half-elf into a bolting run that terminated in a graceless sprawl when her feet tripped over the short legs of the grounded gnome. She lay trembling on her stomach, too confused and blinded and fearful to move.

“We need to get out of here,” Stem yelled towards her.

“Your bloody light isn’t doing us any good,” she grumbled at him, eyes closed again as she scrambled to her knees, feeling around for her sword that had flown from her hand on landing. “What’s he doing now?”

Stem didn’t need her to clarify as to whom he was. “He’s—,”

He was interrupted by the sound of metal scratching against stone, and a moment later the light that had been glaring inescapably dimmed to a mere glow. Eltarri opened her eyes and saw something that genuinely shocked her.

The prince was wielding his sword! And not half-badly, if the sword’s location was any indication of his skill.A dragon’s nostril wasn’t the easiest of targets, and it took an enviable amount of courage to stab a resurrected dragon in the face. Maybe he didn’t carry the weapon merely for show. With the fancy sword sunk to the hilt, Eltarri was struck by the courage that had made him approach the monstrosity so fearlessly.

Or maybe it was foolishness.

She cringed when Raelyse went flying, wincing at the noise his body made slamming into the stone wall. She heard the clatter of his sword, but the only thing she could see in the sudden darkness was the swinging glow of the dragon’s green eyes as its head moved.

“Stem, do something!” Eltarri’s questing hands found her sword and she grabbed it and jumped to her feet, then stood indecisively, unsure of how she could contribute. The prince had kindly showed them how effective swords were against it.

The gnome’s voice came again, firmer than it had been before. “We need to stop the necromancer.”

Eltarri flashed him an incredulous look before she remembered that it was too dark to see facial expressions. “We need to stop the dragon!”

“The necromancer’s controlling the dragon,” he explained shortly, scrambling to his feet and standing beside her. She had her sword out, but it felt like a metal toothpick compared to the image of the dragon’s fangs that had burned itself into her mind.

“I have a plan,” the gnome said determinedly. The prince wasn’t conscious to issue commands, but Stem stepped into the authoritative position with aplomb, his voice certain and confident. “Get back to the tunnel and run for help.”

“What?” Eltarri couldn’t believe her ears. It’d take her hours to find people who could help and to convince them to return with her. How did Stem expect to stay alive on his own?

“Go quickly,” he ordered, turning towards the ledge on which the magician had last been seen. “I need to find the necromancer.”

“I don’t think so,” Eltarri contradicted with unfelt resolve. Her legs were itching to break into the ordered run, but she held herself still, determined to prove that she wasn’t a useless meat shield. “I’ve been your damsel in distress one too many times in the last few days. I’m staying!”

Stem apparently didn’t have the time to argue with her, because when she glanced at him again his hands were lined in faint blue light and weaving intricate patterns in front of his chest. Eltarri looked back at the shimmering eyes of the dragon, watching as the head twisted back and forth. The bright eyes seemed to be promising pain and death as soon as its rear was free from the rock. The head rose into the air, the eyes two floating globes that shined through its jaw and nostrils as rock grumbled around them and the necromancer’s voice bounced off the walls.

“Stem?” Her voice was faint and desperate, but when she glanced sideways again the gnome and his glowing hands were gone. She turned back to her nemesis, frowning with determination. The dragon didn’t move especially quickly, and with her bracers she’d be able to fend off attacks. She didn’t have to kill it, if that was even possible, she just had to distract it for long enough to allow Stem to find the necromancer. How hard could it be to hang onto both her life and the dragon’s attention for a couple of minutes? It wasn’t as if the thing could breathe fire.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, combating the terror that made her hands shake. She tightened her hands around her sword, gritting her teeth and testing the ground beneath her bare feet for stability.

“You get the wizard,” she muttered inaudibly to the gnome, “and I’ll take care of the dragon.”

___________________________________


She was conscious, but the silence that enveloped her was so foreign that at first she didn’t realize that she was awake. Her eyes opened slowly, her gaze settling on a glowing blue light that hovered a few inches over her face. She watched in fascination as the wand tip pulled backto be replaced by the inquisitive face of Stem.

“How’re you feeling?”

Eltarri groaned a wordless reply, but considering what her memory was supplying as the last thing she’d done before she’d been knocked out, she was in pretty good shape. She remembered her charge, the bloodcurdling battle cry she emitted as she’d swung her sword, the rapid approach of two glowing eyes and a grinding jaw, and then . . . A faint blush colored her cheeks. Had she hit the dragon even once?

“Just lay there for a while,” Stem ordered kindly from beside her. His voice was thick with weariness. “I had to do a lot of work on you.”

“What happened, exactly?” She was almost afraid to ask.

He grimaced sympathetically. “I think the dragon might have had night-vision, because it definitely saw you coming. And it had one of its forearms free.”

Eltarri winced. She hadn’t thought of its claws before she’d charged. A soft breeze tickled her face, and she realized that she was lying on grass in fresh air with the blue-black expanse of the sky smiling down from overhead. She sat up at once, blinking dizzily at the rush of blood to her head, her eyes drinking in the rolling hills and grass with relish. It was still mostly dark, though dawn was obviously on its way, but even the night sky was brighter than the depths of the earth that had been her prison. She'd grown up in caves, but she hadn't realized how attached to the surface world she'd become since leaving them. The entrance to the tunnel lay only a few meters away, an unobtrusive hole in the side of a hill. Had Stem dragged her all the way up from that underground chamber?

“Where’s the dragon?” she wondered aloud.

“Still down there,” the gnome replied, stifling an exhausted yawn. “Dead again.”

“And the wiz- necromancer?”

“Him too.”

The half-elf swallowed ashamedly. “You . . . you killed them both by yourself?”

Stem shrugged. “It wasn’t too hard. A few well-placed light spells revealed the magician’s location fairly quickly, and then I just had to put a shielding spell on the dragon while I took out the necromancer. Raelyse’s sword landed rather handily near where the necromancer was hiding, and the fool didn’t even have a weapon on him other than that silly staff. ”

Eltarri stared at the nonchalant gnome, wondering at the change in character. How could a wizard as unassumingly powerful as he be so timid and subservient in the presence of the weakling prince? How could he stand to be under the dominion of a man as posturing and ineffective as Raelyse when he had all kinds of amazing abilities up his sleeves?

Thinking about the prince made Eltarri remember the state he’d been in the last time she’d seen him. She looked around nervously, half expecting him to be striking a heroic pose a few feet away with the disdaining expression that she’d almost grown accustomed to. Instead, her search ended on the prone form of the silver-haired royalty. His eyes were closed and a few of his limbs were bent at unnatural angles; blood still seeped from open wounds on his once-flawless face and exposed skin. Even unconscious, Eltarri was afraid to draw nearer, but she turned her awe-struck gaze onto Stem, who shamefacedly refused to meet her eyes.

“Wait . . . you didn’t heal him?”

“I only had enough energy to do partial healings or one complete healing,” he said defensively, “and it came down to deciding what would be best for the populace at large.”

Eltarri couldn’t believe her ears. Had she not seen this same gnome groveling before the prince only hours before? “You healed me instead of him?”

“I thought it would be better for all of us if he didn’t wake up while we were all still together,” he explained, still not meeting her gaze. “He’s not exactly known for his generosity, and if I’d healed him first and he’d decided not to let me rest long enough to be able to heal you as well . . .”

Eltarri sighed heavily. Once again, Stem had saved her life. In fact, he’d risked his own life and career once again to ensure her safety.

“It’s a good thing there are people like him in the world,” she declared, “because otherwise you might have me convinced that all people really might be good at heart.”

The gnome was drained and pale with fatigue, but he cracked a small smile and shook his head. “I’m no better than most.”

Eltarri rolled her eyes as she clambered gingerly to her feet. “I wish some of your modesty would rub off on your liege over there.”

“He has good reason for his pride,” Stem conceded. “Knowing what he’s capable of, I don’t begrudge him a little arrogance.”

The girl snorted in disagreement, frowning as she stretched sore limbs. As far as she’d seen, the man was only capable of eloquent speeches and pompous bluster. “Whatever you say, Stem. You’re the wizard.”

He chuckled from his seat. “Your sword’s over there with his rapiers. If you’re determined to stick around in Eluriand, please try to take care of yourself.”

She looked at the gnome again, realizing that this might be the last time she saw him. Raelyse didn’t seem to have much of an eye for dangerous situations, and if Stem accompanied him on all his misguided adventures, there was no guarantee that he’d be able to pull the prince through every one. A lump formed in her throat as she fastened her sword into its sling on her back. What could she say in parting to someone who’d been so essential to the perseverance of her life, even if she had just met him a few days ago?

“Are you . . . going to stay with him?”

Stem shook his head, hesitated, and then nodded. “I’m not quite sure of just how kindly disposed he'll be towards me after all this, but I’ll stay with him and make sure he doesn’t die until I’ve got enough energy to levitate him someplace where a patrol will find him. Then I figure I’ll give him a week or two to cool off- just in case he's mad- before I try to get my job back. Not the nicest of plans, but it’ll give you a chance to get away before he wakes up.”

Eltarri smiled sardonically. She doubted Raelyse would even remember her existence once he woke up. She wanted to offer to keep the gnome company, but the thought of the prince waking up prematurely and finding her still in his presence made her keep her mouth shut. Stem’s healing had left her feeling energized, and her boots and gear were still at the Wizard’s Rest, which was a good trek away.

Eltarri went to stand before the gnome, awkwardly fiddling with the buckle on her harness. She tried to make her voice light as she said, “Thanks for everything, Stem. You’ve proven yourself to be quite the hero.”

Stem shrugged. “I just did what I had to do.”

Eltarri smiled faintly before she turned towards the city. “Well, I'm starting to think that maybe that’s all it takes to be a hero.”

A few hours of contemplation later, Stem decided that maybe she was right.


Spoils: Knowledge of the location of a source of dragon bone. (Limited to personal use for sword augmentation at a higher level.)

[Karuka]

Initial Notes: I'm going to say that while this thread wasn't bad, it could definitely have been much better with a little bit of attention to detail. More detail was requested in this judgment, and I'm gonna try to give it. Any questions/comments on the judging, or if you want more specifics, I can be reached on AIM at Loquelf, or by Althanas PM.


Continuity: 3. This was the weakest part of the quest. I have no idea where either of you came from, or what either of you would be up to next. The most backstory I got on ANYONE in the thread was Stem, and from him, all we got was that he left home to become a general in the GO and found himself severely disappointed. I got that Raelyse knew Legiomir, and that the two had some sort of student-teacher relationship with an egomaniacal twist to it.

What about the vampires? There was some mention of Raelyse being picked out as a very deliberate target, but then there was nothing to support that. Did he have a brush with them in the past? How did they know of him and why was he their target? Why didn't he recognize any of them?

Chiroptera, I got even less backstory from you. I know from the thread that her mother is a Dark Elf that doesn't like sunlight, and I got some hint of her being on a mission, but other than that, absolutely nothing. Her sword is heavy to anyone but her, and her bracers have special properties, I saw that. How did she come across the sword and why is it like that?

From the beginning to the end of this quest, I was wondering why the two of you were doing what you were doing, why you wanted to get to Eluriand, and what the vampires had to do with anything, and those questions went unanswered. If the two of you had taken a little time to explain any of that, even in passing, the score here would be much higher.

Something even so simple as explaining why Eltarri could travel in Raiaera when there's a deep racism against her mother's kind, or how Raelyse got past the sentries of both nations (from Alerar to Raiaera) would have helped here.

Setting: 6. There wasn't anything really special here. Most of the time your setting seemed like the cardboard props in a middle school musical, there and easily moved away. That's not to say there weren't positive aspects to it, just that you never really interacted with it.

I liked the description of the desert that Chiroptera put out in her first and second posts, but I think more could have been done with it. What did the wind feel like on her skin? How did it feel to lose almost everything at the beginning? What about the dry, cottony feeling you get in your mouth when you're severely dehydrated? You stuck in something about how her mouth felt after she was ungagged, but there's so much that can be done in the desert. After that, the most you really did with setting was describe the altar in the scenes with the vampires. The one thing I REALLY loved in setting from you was the way you described having her head plunged into the water over and over again. That was the best interaction with an object in the environment in the entire thread.

Raelyse did a little better in this aspect overall. I liked how he described how the sand gets in your mouth and feels icky, and it gave me a laugh when Raelyse got a face full of sand. I thought the initial fight was fought in a patch of grass around the carriage in a limbo, though. Maybe there were some trees, but I don't know. I got a little bit of how Istien looked from post 13, and you interacted a little with sounds throughout the thread, but within Istien was kinda bland, and I didn't get a feel of Eluriand from either of you.

The best overall use of setting in the thread was when you were going through the tunnel with the dragon's skeleton. The use of the pebbles that irritated Raelyse so much when he walked on them really sticks out in my mind when it comes to setting, and it was just about the only real tactile sense I got during the entire thread.


Pacing: 6. This was fairly well done, for the most part. ALMOST each segment of the story flowed well into the next part, and you two were fairly good about picking up where the other left off. My biggest complaint is that there were long stretches of very little happening of worth to either plot or characters with little bursts of action.
The fight scenes, all of them, felt very rushed. It was almost like Chiroptera was saying "danger! Let's put forth a good effort, and then get the crap beat out of my character in one or two posts," while Raelyse was like "my character looks shiny. Oh, there are monsters. I will dispatch of them quickly and go back to saying how pretty my character is." More could have been done with it, but I didn't dock you too much for that.

What REALLY hurt you here was the rushed ending. Raelyse came back, wanted some stuff wrapped up, and just rushed through an ending in this thread to gather EXP, instead of communicating with Chiroptera to either finish the story properly or inform her that he was winding up the thread. Communication is a good thing, and in a massive quest like this, an ending that kinda says "aaaand...he got knocked out by a dragon, the end," was pretty lame. I liked Chiroptera's ending better, it gave more of a conclusion and tied up more loose ends.

All I can say in conclusion is: don't rush the thread. The story had been going off and on since last November, it could have waited a couple more months (or a week or two) to do a proper ending.

Dialogue: 8. I rather liked the dialogue. Raelyse's made him sound like a pompous brat, Eltarri's made her sound like a girl unsure of her place in the world but more than ready to go and try to take it on if it would satisfy her goal (whatever that was), and Stem's was simply brilliant, the right mix of kind, servile, and irritated with his employer.

I also liked Eltarri's Elvish farewell to Yaara, which served to create an immediate empathy and sympathy for the character. Who of us hasn't lost a pet, and who hasn't been stranded with no gas and no map? It sucks, and you conveyed how much it sucks well.

The reason you guys didn't get a ten here was because Raelyse had some bumpy and repetitive dialogue (ex: "My halfling seems to be bleeding from every possible hole in his body and I need a body to protect my body from their nasty teeth.")

Also, it kind of irks me that the best dialogue belonged to the NPC. It's good to give NPCs solid and valuable dialogue, but not at the expense of the PCs.

Action: 6. It was a very off-balance quest in terms of power. In most tense situations during this quest, Eltarri was the damsel in distress, and Raelyse had things too easy. I can see Eltarri getting her head handed to her by vampires, but I can't quite see Raelyse having the seeming invincibility at the applicable profile. I'd have liked to see Eltarri step up a little more, and Raelyse step down.

I docked you a few points here because I saw NOTHING in Raelyse's level 4 profile that would allow him to be faster and stronger than a vampire. It seemed a bit overpowered, ESPECIALLY since his posts only described him being stronger and faster than they were. Keep in mind that the (not-so) good prince is a bit on the handicapped side, so even when he's using the powers of Lechery and Perversion, he should still not be quite as agile as an average person, simply because he isn't used to maneuvering like a normal person.

Another thing that was irritating was how much building up there was to the large vampire coven and then how quickly the part with the dragon was wrapped up. Essentially, the fight with the main pack was inevitable once Eltarri was kidnapped, but once you guys actually introduced your main antagonist, he was kinda hollow and flat -- your generic necromancer, instead of an appreciable villain.

The reason this score isn't lower is because in her posts, Chiroptera kept a good sense of tension.

Again, this could have been a lot better. Some of the best action went to Stem, not combat-wise, but as pertaining to character. I felt like his actions helped me understand him more than I was able to stand Raelyse or Eltarri.

Persona: 7. I'm going to start with commentary for Chiroptera here. I loved how you introduced your character, she was very believable in her role, from passing out in the desert to her offense at Raelyse's insults, her gratitude to Stem, and her fear of the vampires. You're good with your character and how she reacts to various situations, and I'm looking forward to seeing where she goes next.

Raelyse, you know your character, that's obvious, but you can't assume that your reader does. I got the basic gist of your character, but I don't really feel like I know the Prince of Myrusia any better than I did at the beginning of the story.

I feel like I know Stem better than I know either Eltarri or Raelyse, though, and you guys did a good job of keeping him consistent. Also...your vampires felt like the Mr. Smith clones from the Matrix. Even when you gave them names, the only one that seemed unique was Kale, and only because you specifically mentioned that he could read and write.

Mechanics: 6. This was mostly good. I caught a couple of times where Chiroptera forgot to put a space between her sentences towards the end of the thread, but for the most part she was solid.

Raelyse, your mechanics aren't bad, but you have the occasional misplaced comma, misused word, a word dropped or added, and a notable case of misused apostophes.


"I'd say well met, Raelyse, but I seldom enjoy pitting my ego against your's," ~ "yours" is the correct form, since "your" is the possessive pronoun. No apostrophe needed.

Most of your errors are things that a quick re-read would catch, and I'd advise that for both of you next time.

Technique: 7. The only thing that really sticks out to me as far as technique goes is a little alliteration, and a major use of suspense. Since the suspense was carried off well, I gave you an extra point.

Clarity: 6. I had to go back a few times and re-read what you were saying for both of you. Be aware of when you're trying to convey action. During the first encounter with vampires, it seemed that you were building up to a fight, and starting combat...and then it was over. That was jarring.

Also, Raelyse, a few of your sentences get bumpy. "Stamina matched only by their glistening white manes," for one. How does stamina compare to color? Another was "...every annal of the Prince's body." I don't know what you meant there.

Wild Card: 6. This quest has room for improvement, but overall I think you're both good writers, and have much yet to do with your characters.

My biggest complaint with the thread, other than the fact that it seemed kind of like the Stem show, was that it read almost like it was supposed to be a solo, but Raelyse didn't feel like writing one, so he asked Chiroptera to play the "damsel in distress."

Like I said in Action, Eltarri can step up. I realize her sword skills are defensive at this level, but she could have offered a lot more to the thread.


Total: 61! Congratulations!

Rewards:

Raelyse gets 2,900 EXP and his requested spoils, with the caveat to not overplay that light spell, lest it become boring, and when the rapier's enchantment is found out, it will have to be re-approved by the judge and the RoG staff.

Chiroptera gets 1825 EXP, 350 GP and her requested spoils.

[Letho]

EXP/GP added!