Kiln floated dreamily about the cave, wheeling his mine cart. Gems dripped from the stalactites and landed in his cart as he trotted around. Suddenly there was a blue flash - he blinked a bit and as if suddenly conscious of his dream, he noticed he was no longer in his happy cave. He was back at the village walking next to a rider; some man who was patrolling around the village. This had to be a dream - Kiln couldn't even manage to sneak up on a troll, so how then was he upon this man? The man turned his head and faced Kiln directly and spoke clearly "I will defend the weak; I will pursue the guilty; and I will champion the just. I will keep the long watch and stand against the darkness; alone if I must. I will keep the Watch" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kiln awoke with a start. It seemed it was etched into his nature that he and forests would be at odds, but it wasn't the forest's early calls of morning that awoke him. By the looks of it, he'd slept far longer than he'd planned - daylight had already broken hours ago. He thought back to Catalin and hoped he was well. It seemed so far their plan had worked. Whatever it was that spooked Sir Orrin and his Sapphire Maiden must have followed Catalin towards Trinsic. Kiln was sure if the thing had been following him, he'd have been dwarf-biscuits by now; riding was such a pain, and any time he wanted to set off he had to spend several minutes searching for a suitable rock or ledge just to get astride. Then he thought to the dream that had just awoken him. He was still nearly 3 days out from Skara Brae, but the dream left him a distinct impression that he was to return to the village to meet somebody. It was odd feeling to know he'd recognize the man's face as soon as he saw it - a watchman of some sort. He looked back westward through the forest and heard conspicuous commotion. He immediately reached for his ax and hoisted himself from the earth. It was only a short distance from earth to standing for him, but his knees sure groaned like it would never end. He crept towards the sound and saw a man sizing up a tree. The man's ax stood on end; the grip standing straight up from the weapon's metal edge. "Hail forester, I'm Kiln of Paws," Kiln tried to hold an amicable smile as he approached but that man didn't make any motion to turn and address him. "Yeah, and what of it?" the man's reply was given over his shoulder as he clapped his hands together. White cloud from some odd powder escaped from his hands as he clapped them a few more times, "Can't you see I'm busy here? This here tree needs to come down." Kiln decided to press the man just a bit more - clearly not seeing why he had selected this seemingly random tree in the remote area of the forest, "And how is it that this tree has been awarded with your attention over all these that stand around?" The man knelt down with a loud sigh, and reached to what appeared like weeds. He gave a few of them a hard tug and they broke from the ground with what seemed like hissing. Without turning to look, the man flung the roots over his head to Kiln, "That there should be mandrake root, but you see how it's knotted and hardened? I've seen patches of this corrupted root springing from here to Skara, and I've traced it here; this poor spruce is too far gone. She'll be a reaplet within a month." He rested his hand on the trunk as if saying sorry, then reached for his ax, "That, Master Dwarf, is why she needs to come down." The shock on Kiln's face was visible, but the man still had not turned his focus from the tree to see it, instead he proceeded to answer Kiln's unspoken question, "It seems powerful forces are in motion. You've been having dreams too ain't ye?" The man didn't wait for Kiln's response and seemed content carrying on his conversation "welp, when I'm done here, I need to go back to Skara to fetch something I guess I forgot. I can't rightly offer my services to your village without a proper lumber-crew, aye? I'll return with a certain Yewman I may know and we'll help you with any tree problems you're having. Can't say I'll stay much longer than that, but I'll stay as long as the forest needs me there." After the man concluded, he began swinging his ax. Kiln used the space of the brief pause between the strikes and tried blurt out, "Well, erm, thanks mister, but we ain't even discussed names or wages." "Yeap!" the man yelled over his labor, "Call me Vey, and you can discuss wages with the Yewman when we arrive. You should probably tend to whatever business you have back at the village!"
The Heart of a Stone ~ Sapphire Saga ~ Zeddar stood in the flickering light of the lamps that were suspended over the Rooftop Tavern. The crowd that faced him was small, but prestigious. The Emperor was there, as was Xandy... Ascher was not. Two of the three... Would it be enough? He spoke of ages gone by... ages faded to dust.... ages so old that the legends that were once told about them had long since passed to dust.... It is never a quiet thing, the changing of an age. Zeddar could remember them now....the ones he'd lived through personally, and the ones from his past lives as well. Tonight he told them about the fall of Silvervale. Not all of it, for he was not ready to awaken some old ghosts just yet. But he told them enough. The Necromancer had come. A Dark Lord, and a powerful one at that. He had twisted some mens' hearts and turned brother on brother. But some resisted. There was a band that forged as the rest of the village fell apart. The Keepers of the Flame. They stood the Watch when all others fled. And Zeddar rode with the Lady Ky'Teller at their front. The battles were bloody, and brutal. And slowly, the Keepers dwindled. Zeddar, head of the Hall of Mystics, had searched for some way to counter the Dark Lord's magic. He found only the ghost of a legend about a powerful spell that could only be performed once. The spell drained the life of the Wizard that cast it, and in doing so, unleashed amazing power. The cost was dear, but there was little known that could stand up to such a spell. Zeddar found out as much as he could, and then he waited. THe Dark Lord came for him one night, alone in his tower. He tortured Zeddar, trying to get him to turn. After hours and hours of agony and stubborn resistance, Zeddar began to act defeated. As dawn was about to break on the eastern horizon, Zeddar had begun to weap, and finally, with his last few breaths, Zeddar had drawn the Dark Lord to him. The Dark Lord bent, the baleful red and green Banestone in his hand, and Zeddar smiled. He unleashed the spell, and everything went white. Zeddar sat up, panting, his face wet with sweat. He blinked, and looked around, confused. He was in a bed, and he wasn't sure why. The last he rememberd, an Ice Troll had been swinging at his head on Dagger Isle. After that, only the bits and pieces of a few dreams. He started to shiver, and then realized with a start that he wasn't cold anymore. His pack sat against the wall. A candle sat flickering on the table beside the door. Zeddar looked around the room, and found his staff leaning in a corner. He breathed a sigh of relief, and relaxed a bit. When he looked back to the door, though, his breath caught in his throat. On the table next to the candle, sat a leather dice cup that hadn't been there before. Zeddar felt goosebumps rise along his arms. He rose, and walked slowly over to the table, and looked in the cup. There was a pair of gleaming white dice sitting on top of a folded note. Zeddar emptied the dice absent mindedly onto the table, and then took out the note. It was written on fine parchment paper, and smelled faintly of jasmine and rosemary. Zeddar unfolded it and smiled as he read: Zeddar, Sorry about the chills. I had to get you out of the way for a while. Hope the warm bed makes up for it. *wink* Dearly, F Zeddar briefly wondered what it might be like to share a bed with Fate. Unforgettable was the only word that would come to mind. Of course, there was no way to guarantee that the Fate you laid down with was the one that would be there the next morning when you woke up. Zeddar chuckled. But, then again, that was no different from most other gypsy women he knew.... Zeddar yawned, and stretched, much more relaxed. He lay back down on the bed, and listened to the slightly muffled sounds coming from the inn's common room. As he drifted off to sleep, Zeddar said a silent prayer to Fate that the ghosts of his past would give him peace for the night. He needed the rest....
A Broken Road Home~ Sapphire Saga ~ Zeddar opened his eyes, and this time it stuck. He was rested, and warm. But there was something pulling on his mind, tugging at his consciousness like a puppy with a sock. Try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint what it was... but he couldn't shake it either. Fate had apparently left him well-compensated. The inn had been paid handsomely, with instructions for the excess to be taken as a tip, provided the innkeeper delivered one parcel to Zeddar without opening it. Zeddar rose, stretched, and opened the small pouch once again, inspecting the contents carefully. There were several gold coins, each bearing a strange mark. They were Minters' Marks and would cash in at any Royal Bank for hefty sums of gold each. And there were two crystal blue sapphires. One of the gems was the color of a deep evening sky, and clear all the way through. The other was so blue it seemed almost black, and there was a stark white starburst pattern deep within the stone. They were beautiful, without a doubt, but the stones wouldn't be worth nearly what the Minters' Marks were. It was curious that Fate had included them. Still, whenever he looked at the stones and thought about selling them, something deep within his mind balked at the idea. It was a puzzle he couldn't figure out, but it seemed Fate wanted him to hold onto those two stones specifically. Zeddar shrugged, and dressed. He ties the pouch closed, and secured it in his pack. When he had his pack on, he took his staff from the corner of the room. A quick inspection revealed nothing left behind, and nothing disturbed. The only indication he'd been in the room at all was the blackened wick on the candle. Zeddar nodded, and stepped out into the common room of the inn. He waived off the friendly innkeeper as she came over to inquire if he was sure he wouldn't stay, "Just one more night?" As she had already asked him at least twenty times, and been told the same answer each time. Zeddar wasn't quite sure what, but something was drawing him on, pushing his feet back to the road. Over the course of his many lifetimes, the old Wizard had learned not to ignore such urges. They were often the ones that mattered most. So, he stepped outside and mounted his horse, Ghost. He turned the horse, and trotted out of the town gates towards the public moongate. As he rode slowly through the slanting morning light, a thought occurred to him. The salt was thick on the air, and the breeze in his face, and he realized he had not visited the Shrine of Spirituality in longer than he could remember. Zeddar made a quick change in plans, and stepped through the shimmering window of blue light. He emerged in the woods south of Britain. The sun wasn't quite up yet here, and the woods were still deep in shadow and mostly sleeping. The sounds of squirels and birds getting ready for the day were just staring to creep through the trees. Zeddar tightened his grip on his staff, and nudged Ghost forward. It was a long and broken road to the village that he had once called home....
A Welcome Home ~ Sapphire Saga ~ Zeddar dismounted, and whispered into Ghost's ear. The horse tossed his head and whinnied, then he meandered off among the trunks to munch on the green grass. The Wizard wasn't worried. He could feel the aura of the Shrine now, and he knew that no creature of darkness could approach within that realm without being detected. Besides, he'd asked the horse to stay close, just in case he needed a quick departure. Zeddar stepped out from among the trees, and saw the gleaming white marble steps of the Shrine of Spirituality. The steps and the Shrine in the middle of the crystal clear pool were untouched by the passage of time. So it was with all of these sacred sites. It was one reason Zeddar felt drawn to them, and why he felt an added measure of peace here. He knelt briefly, his eyes closed, and ran a weary hand through his hair. So many memories, and so many emotions came flooding over him. It was an effort to stand against that rushing tide, and sieze control once more. But, with effort, he was able to do so. With a deep breath, he stood, and walked around the Shrine. The land was different, of course. The Tower of Paws was gone. There were a few ragged foundation stones peeking through the soft forest floor, but nothing else. The once mighty structure had crumbled to ruin long ages ago. A new building stood in its place, though... and it had a warm and inviting patio. Zeddar stared into the crystalline waters of the reflecting pool on that patio for a long time, the ghosts of his past keeping him company. When he finally moved on, there were no tears staining his cheeks. There had been more laughter and good times shared here, where Paws had once stood, than there had been tears shed over its passing. And he meant to see that always remained the case. Tears made the heart remember to feel... Laughter made it remember to heal...
An Autumn Starch ~ Sapphire Saga ~ The sweet melodies of the turning of fall echoed throughout the forests. It was as though all of the birds sang a tearful, but happy farewell to the season. Their song full of joy for the time spent with the spirit of summer and full of hope that they would meet again. One bird's song drew Jupiter's attention from among the others however. A lone starch hopped about upon the steps the small stone tower; one of the newer structures that had been built around the shrine. "How are you come this far south little starch? And why does your song seem different from the rest?" The starch didn't offer a reply, but hopped around absently, flitting its head this way and that, like any other bird. Then it paused and kicked its leg awkwardly, revealing a small piece of parchment tied to his foot. Curious. Starling's weren't known for carrying messages, let alone allowing anything remotely bigger than them to get within a stone's throw distance. Yet this starling seemed to wait patiently for Jupiter to reach down and loose the parchment. The timid creature fluttered off to the grass in the distance once it was removed. "And what message do you have for me I suppose, Master Starling, hmm?" Jupiter asked mostly to himself. The wax seal on the parchment bore a symbol which reminded him of the weeping gale he had felt so many nights ago. Unsure if the message was for him, or someone of the village, he tucked the paper under his robes and went in search of the stalwart dwarf. Jupiter's time in the village of Paws seemed sporadic. But he meant to ensure that the dwarf provided every possible amenity to the guest who would soon arrive.
