Flight of the Zephyr

[Wyvern]

- Prologue -

 

It was like a knife piercing through a bleeding wound of sky.

 

Marcus Tormellus' child eyes reflected a hint of the moonlight as he stared from the window of the empty Antaen conference hall, his thoughts momentarily lost to the waves of midnight clouds. The great halls were deserted and barren, and his footsteps clicked in hollow echoes as he passed through the rows of tables, his necklaces rattling loudly until he reached a spot at his empty podium. He stood there for a moment, head tilted downward, hands motionless, and opened his mouth as if to air a silent scream.

 

"You're up late."

 

Marcus tilted his head upward and squinted, Rald Wexsler's lantern shining a dim light through the room. The scrawny first division leader seemed to be little more than flesh and bones from his position at the hall entrance, like some eery spectral presence in the dead of night. He moved forward, narrowing his eyes in Marcus' direction.

 

"Why are you up?"

 

Marcus shrugged, turning towards the window as to not make eye contact with Rald.

 

"I asked: why are you up?" Rald stepped forward, the light following him as he passed by the tables towards the area of the shadowed podium. "Why are you up, Marcus?"

 

"Couldn't sleep." Marcus' voice came out in a croak and he coughed twice, like a child with a bad cold.

 

"Couldn't sleep?" Rald paused, holding the lantern up and shining some light on Marcus' cloak. He smiled a little. "So, the Maxon news has caused a stir here as we- "

 

Marcus turned coldly, a hand raised to his necklaces.

 

"You know what I mean, Rald."

 

Rald glanced towards the ground for a moment, the lanterns light casting long shadows across the barren chamber.

 

"What did you expect?" Rald stared at Marcus hard, trying to make contact with his eyes. "It's been a few years now. You're frightened...?"

 

"Terrified." Marcus turned his back to Rald, his voice shakey. "It's not the same. Not the same once you know the date."

 

"You've had it coming." Rald breathed a long sigh, and a long moment of silence passed. "You know, I once heard that death is nothing more than a whirling darkness-"

 

"Well you heard wrong." Marcus' voice brimmed on anger as he wheeled towards Rald, his eyes wide with desperation. "I've seen death. The face of the thing that did this to me- never whirling, struck. Death is a terror, Rald. Remember."

 

Marcus smirked at Rald in an awkward moment of silence, then turned and passed by him, moving towards the door leading to his chambers. "Not that you would know, from your experience."

 

Rald followed Marcus with his eyes as he moved towards the doorway, his voice now tinged with bitterness. "Enjoy your last weeks alive, Accursed."

 

And the door shut with a firm snap.

[Wyvern]

- Part 1: Maxon the Kahn -

 

"Gray-eyed Athena sent them a favorable breeze, a fresh west wind, singing over the wine-dark sea." - Homer, Odyssey, II, l. 420

 

---

 

"Just remember, when Orin arrives, the three of you should stand, then kneel."

 

Katherina Lumenda flashed a happy smile towards the conference table, the proud gleam in her eyes reflecting upon her three soldiers of choice. Jadros Syrn sat upright in his seat around the center, his large presence unavoidable with his hands curved together upon the table. Next to him sat Lelianye Ghen, small and frail when sized against him, her eyes occasionally turning from the table to meet Katherina's glances. Matthias Foundling leaned back a few seats down from Jadros and Lelianye, less apparent then the other two, almost blending into his seat as his eyes wandered over the decorative ceiling of the chamber.

 

"About time this day arrived." Katherina paced back and forth near the table, her attention still focussed on the three. "I hope you realize how proud I am of the three of you. I'm sure that this mission will be a success thanks to your talents and bravery. People like you really give our third division a good name."

 

Jadros broke into a small smile while Lelianye cast a larger one. Matthias simply nodded from his seat, almost non-existant in his presence.

 

"The other choices won't be touching you guys." Katherina winked towards them. "Just wait and see."

 

A few moments later, the doors leading into the conference chamber creaked open and Rald Wexsler entered in, two figures walking at his side. Jade Corriper paced at his left, her lithe form moving fluidly and her eyes catching sight of Katherina and the others. Merlyn Avogadro walked at Rald's right, glancing about at the murals of the chamber and nodding to the captain's nervous demands.

 

"The two of you are representing the first division." Rald's voice sounded rushed and strict, with a hint of shakey anxiety. "You will stand and bow when Orin enters, and you will be silent as he speaks. You will listen carefully and will obey his every word. Keep in mind that he is far superior to you in rank and class. He is superior to even myself."

 

"Hello Rald" chimed Katherina, halting in her pacing and nodding towards him. "Hasn't let up, I see."

 

"Good day to you Katherina" Rald brushed off the rain water caught on his balding head and shook his cloaks a few times. "I'm afraid not, miserable weather."

 

Jade and Merlyn took seats opposite from Jadros and Lelianye at the large conference table. Matthias eyed the two of them curiously from his position as Katherina approached Jade, a word caught on the tip of her tongue.

 

"Grasshopper" Katherina said after a long moments pause, pointing a finger towards her. "You're 'Grasshopper' aren't you? I've heard of you from Gerald... quite the acrobat, from what he described."

 

"The very one" interrupted Rald before Jade could reply, allowing himself a little smile. "And this is Merlyn, the finest technician the first division has to offer."

 

"Pleased to meet you." Katherina shook both of their hands.

 

The two captains turned their heads as the entrance to the conference hall swung open again and Gerald Hitorin walked in, dribbling loose rain water in his long strides. Behind him paced the looming figure of Hrath Vors, instantly noticeable to those gathered by his height and gruff appearence. Katherina immediately turned away as Hrath sat himself at an available seat, clenching a fist and moving towards a corner of the room for a moment. Rald glanced to Gerald and smiled.

 

"Greetings Gerald. Only one soldier from your division?"

 

"I'm a little selective" said Gerald, grinning at Rald for a brief moment. He turned as Katherina tugged at his arm.

 

"Gerald" hissed Katherina from clenched teeth, motioning in the direction of Hrath and glaring with an anger that bordered on rage. Gerald sneered at her, already anticipating her reaction. "Can we talk for a moment? If you think you're teaming that creep with my soldiers, you are out of your mi-"

 

Katherina stopped short as the sound of the entrance doors shutting caught her attention, and the soldiers all stood from their seats as Orin walked into the room. The captains and soldiers bowed one by one as Orin approached, and the captains lifted themselves from their positions once he halted. The six soldiers remained kneeling, as instructed, as Orin's fluid voice echoed through the large chamber.

 

"This special meeting is now in session. Welcome to all of you, the selected. I am Orin, a military advisor and associate of his majesty Emperor Neren. Please, be seated."

 

Orin brushed a trace of rain from his regal blue and grey attire as the soldiers took their seats again. He faced them and moved his eyes from one to the other as he spoke, his tone always calm and firm.

 

"As I'm certain you've learned from your respective captains, you have been selected and called here today to undertake a mission of critical importance. You have hopefully been informed of Maxon the Kahn's journey West to the Kii Penninsula, and are aware of the task that rests before you. The assasination of a leader of Maxon's stature would be a significant blow to the Rebels, perhaps enough to qwel their resistance entirely. We will be counting on you to fufill the deed."

 

Orin took out a sheet of paper as his eyes passed over the six.

 

"Each of you has been selected for your exceptional skills and abilities, which have stood out from within your respective divisions. Jadros Syrn, for your tactical expertise and extensive experience. Jade Corriper, for your agility and unique approach to combat. Hrath Vors, for your skills in melee combat and speedy reflexes. Merlyn Avogadro, for your abilities as a talented chemist and fighter. Lelianye Ghen, for your skills in infiltration and devotion to the Confederacy. And Matthias Foundling, for your mastery of the art of disguise and assassination."

 

Orin paused for a moment, folding the paper and pocketing it.

 

"The six of you are hereby collectively known as the special unit 'Lymnor's Hand,' through which the Confederacy shall grip the Rebellion at its core. Your mission will commence tommorow at dawn, and you will ride Northwest to the town of Glenfurel. There, you will meet a tactician of the Confederacy by the name of Atlas, who will coordinate the rest of your mission to the Kii Penninsula and will aid you in infiltrating the ranks of the Looms. Atlas can be found at Gurn's Smithy in Glenfurel, where he works under the guise of a blacksmith's assistant. Simply ask for Atlas by the order of Lymnor's Hand, and he will understand."

 

Orin looked to each of the soldiers and captains to make sure he was understood, then nodded.

 

"You have the rest of the day to make any final preperations before departing. Our thoughts will be with you in your endeavors, and your mission's success will result in the highest honours for each of you. This meeting is hereby dismissed."

 

As Orin turned and departed, the soldiers lifted themselves from their seats. The three captains waited and watched until each of the six soldiers left, at which point Rald turned and exited from the chamber. Gerald began to follow him out, but halted when Katherina grasped his shoulder.

 

"Not so fast, Mr. Selective." Katherina scowled at him, her grip tightening and her nails pressing against his tunic. "You've still got some explaining to do."

[Katzaniel]

Grasshopper listened to the speech from her kneeling position, in front and to the left of Orin. She noticed that he made eye contact with each as he spoke of them, and lowered her eyes slightly as his gaze fell upon her. Then he moved on, and she allowed herself to watch his face again.

 

"So this is the man who would avert a war through us," she thought. The God would approve, she knew this instinctively, and so approved herself. In fact, this was exactly the type of philosophy that the Shumidan taught. Still listening to Orin, half of Jade's mind was reciting the litany upon which she was accepted to the ranks of those monks. "A few well-chosen battles may end a war, several selective fights may end a battle, and one good hit may end a fight." It was expressed in terms of battle, and the Shumidan learned thoroughly the ways of battle, but the philosophy extended to all parts of life. It was why she was here at this moment, in a hundred different ways, and it was why she would do everything in her power to make this mission a success.

 

The man finished, and gave them leave to go. Grasshopper rose, gave a short nod that Orin never noticed, and left. She found herself immediately behind Merlyn as the six of them filed out. Strange how she had never remarked anything special of this man. She knew him - had served beside and then under him - but had not paid him any special attention. Well, she would now. And the others. Jade had listened to the reasons for selection of each, but they were already slipping from her memory. A tactician, an infiltrator. It had sounded like a well-spread list. Her superiors had chosen well.

 

Once outside of the room, there was a brief pause. They all looked at each other, and most of them smiled, but no one spoke. Words could carry back inside, thought Jade, and probably they all had their own goodbyes to make, so she shrugged apologetically and left. One looked at her curiously, another with superiority. She decided she would have to watch the second one.

 

Getting outside, Grasshopper considered her options. She knew this day would drag out long for her, as she had few friends in this place and had packed everything the night before. She decided to go to a nearby tavern, the Red Yeti, which she knew would be at least half full even at this time of the day. There she could get a drink or two and, more importantly, catch up on the latest news before departing.

Edited April 16, 2005 by Katzaniel

[Orlan]

Hrath stopped a little further down the street, glancing up once into the light rain that was coming down. He heaved a sigh and stepped to the side, finding a bit of shelter from the rain. He slipped his hand into the pouch at his side, taking out the still warm cigar he had been smoking up until the moment he entered the conference room. Gerald had given him a sharp look before they walked into the room and Hrath filled the rest of the conversation in on his own.

 

"You don't put that out and I'll cut it and other appendages off," Gerald would say.

 

"Yessir," Hrath would reply.

 

"Now don't do anything stupid. You know the drill, kneel and stay quiet," Gerald would then say.

 

"No reason to worry, Sir," Hrath would assure him.

 

"It's not you I'm worried about," Gerald would finally say before opening the door.

 

Hrath sighed again. Some people just could not find him as likable as he found himself to be for other people. Such was life though. He did see the anger in Katherina's eyes though. He was sure he'd hear about it. The big man put the end of the cigar in his mouth and took out some flint and stone to light it. He tried for about a dozen times trying to get any of the wet tools to spark but it was rather something like...

 

"An exercise in futility, Lieutenant?"

 

Hrath was never one to be surprised, but if there was one person who would test that, it would be Rald. The Captain made no sound through the water as he walked, even for someone of his age. Hrath glanced down at him, for he was a bit shorter.

 

"I like to think of it as patience training, Sir," Hrath replied.

 

"Patience is a good virtue, especially on a mission like this," Rald said. "As are teamwork and understanding. Those are something that I know you have the ability for, but some may think otherwise." Hrath did not need a further explanation on that one. If Rald was next to him, Gerald and Katherina were at each other's throats...or at least at Gerald's.

 

"As stubborn and ignorant as I am, I do know what a mission is, Sir. I won't damage too many things," Hrath said. Rald smiled and continued walking through the rain.

 

"You're a good soldier, Hrath. Watch out for them."

 

Hrath watched Rald walk away and then continued trying to light his cigar. Another dozen tries and he heard loud, angry footsteps approaching behind him. They were longer strides, moving fast and moving with a strength. And then they stopped, very suddenly and Hrath picked up on a nice smell. He put on a smile, well a smirk anyway, and turned.

 

"Captain Katherina," he said nodding his head. She was an angry kind of wet, and Hrath knew what would be coming. "You should get inside and dry off your hair, you might catch a cold, Sir." Damn. Sometimes he was too quick for his own good. His mother always said "You gotta quick mind to get you out of the trouble that your quick mouth gets you into."

 

"I am not pleased with you, Hrath, nor have I ever been. I will say this only once, the best of the best are on this mission and they have orders to see it through to the end and no stupid, ignorant pig is going to stop them. They are not easily cowed like most you're used to dealing with, nor are they easily impressed. If I were you, I'd watch out for them." From anyone else that would sound like a threat, but from Katherina, Hrath knew it to be a passion. Katherina took a care in her subordinates that any would be rivaled to match, but Hrath would never tell her that...seriously, anyway. Before he could say any more to her he was watching her back from a far distance away. He afforded himself a little chuckle.

 

"Laugh it up, Lieutenant, at least she didn't use physical violence against you," Gerald's voice came. Hrath turned slightly to watch his captain walking up to him, rubbing his right shoulder.

 

"I think it's because I never spent the night with her, Sir." Damn, again! Hrath usually controlled his tounge better. Fortunately Gerald was used to him and only gave him a dark look. "Sorry, Sir."

 

"Don't be sorry, Hrath, be alert," Gerald said. "You know why I picked you for this, right?"

 

"No, Sir."

 

"Good, neither do I. Don't screw it up." Gerald said.

 

"I'll try, but from the looks of the team...Jadros is no problem, and I doubt Matthias nor Merlyn will be problems, I've heard good things of them, but," Hrath shook his head as he spoke. "Two women? And one dosen't even look like she could pass for a woman. She looked twelve!" And then Hrath added as an afterthought, "Sir."

 

"I know, but they're good, Hrath, all of them. But they're not yet a team. They need to build that up, so I'm counting on you to be the first to volunteer to be the base of that team. You need to watch out for them." Hrath sighed. He saw a theme running through his night.

 

"Yes, Sir." Gerald looked at the cigar.

 

"You stopping to see your mother?" he asked.

 

"She'd kill me if I left without telling her goodbye," Hrath said.

 

"Then I'd stop tryng to light your cigar, you know she hates that." Hrath sighed.

 

"You're probably right," Hrath said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and putting it back into his pouch along with the flint.

 

"Don't worry about your mother," Gerald said, putting a hand on Hrath's shoulder as they started walking again.

 

"I don't, Sir." Hrath glanced up at the rain falling upon him. "I worry about you. You were the one who promised to have tea with her every other week." Gerald chuckled, as did Hrath, as they walked on through the rain.

[Tamaranis]

The troop of elite soldiers, Lymnor's Hand, drifted away from the conference room in a disorganized gaggle. No one said anything for a few minutes. With a slight shrug Jade turned to head away from the rest of unit, apparently intent on some personal task.

 

It made Jadros a little uneasy how Jade just slipped off like, that, not bothering to explain what she was doing or where she was going. If they were going to succeed in this mission -and they were- they would have to rely on each other, and everyone was going to need what everyone else was doing and when they were going to do it. Instead of just wandering off without a word.

 

He was probably worrying over nothing, though. It probably wasn't an indication of her behaviour in the field. They were in the heart of the confederacy, not some dark forest crawling with rebels. And besides, Captain Katherina had recognized and been impressed by "Grasshopper" so she must be useful soldier.

 

Hrath made his excuses and went his own way as well.

 

This was not unit cohesivness. Everyone was separated from their home unit here, and most of the membership was going from being a relatively important figure in a relatively large military body to just one of six soldiers in a small one. It would take some time for everyone to adjust to that, but better to start now.

 

“I’ve got to say, ‘Lymnor’s Hand,’ I like the sound of that.” Jadros said, breaking the near silence, “That’s the sort of name a unit that has songs sung about it has.” This produced some agreement and a few grins.

 

“So, does anyone else actually have any last minute business to attend to?” Jadros asked as what was left of the group migrated away from the conference room. For himself the military was his life and his immediate superiors and subordinates already knew he was going to be on assignment elsewhere, so he had no goodbyes to make. Likewise, he was only a few minutes away from being outfitted for the field and ready to march or ride.

Edited April 16, 2005 by Tamaranis

[Canid]

"Yes," answered a contemplative voice from above him, "I have some things to gather."

Merlyn loomed over Jadros' head and switched his gaze from the sky to his colleague, "Mostly muck I'm afraid," and with a friendly smile, he cast off towards his tent.

 

Merlyn had enjoyed looming over the meeting. At 6'6", it was rare for him to be out-loomed by anyone, but it still gave him pleasure to tower over his colleagues.

The female captain dashed past him and stomped off towards where Hrath was failing to light a cigar. This was obviously not to be a united group.

Merlyn knew little of the Captains Gerald and Katherina and nothing of his new teammates, with the exception of Jade.

She had served under him for the past two months of his short affiliation with the Confederacy and Merlyn had always been grateful to have met her as a Confederate. As a Loom, he would have been dead before a battle could begin. Knowing her talents as he did now, there might exist a fighting chance, but he wouldn't want to test it.

Maxon the Khan; not directly his old leader, he had been under Danius. The opposite end of the Looms. Quite a singular mission. It had been a severe shock when Rald first explained the assignment. But they knew none of this. Merlyn Avogadro of Lectipass: avenging its destruction, dueling evil, rising in the ranks.

 

The tent approached. It permitted him entrance, and a moment later, exit, with a large, oblong backpack which was stuffed with clothes, bedding, food and most importantly, equipment: Merlyn's carefully selected mobile laboratory.

He yanked up the pegs and dragged the heavy canvas tent from its poll, rolling and tying it to his pack in traditional fashion. Merlyn hoisted the mass over himself, shifting it into a place of balance.

The first order of business was to gather chemical supplies.

 

Time for one of his little hikes.

Edited April 13, 2005 by Canid

[Yui-chan]

Jade. Hrath. Merlyn.

 

Lelianye pondered her new teammates as they meandered away from the conference table, their separate goals and values getting them gobbled up by the grey mist of the heavy, rain-dotted air. The lady, the Grasshopper, moved more like a lithzan cat than a clunky bug, each step carefully placed, each movement perfectly balanced. That one would defy gravity in ways normal people could not, she noted to herself. The smaller of the two men (though calling him ‘small’ would have been a grave injustice) was hard. Tough like dried beef. He moved with a boulder’s awareness, heavy, final, his steps confident and unswerving, just like the opinions in his eyes when he looked at her. The last, the man whose head threatened the clouds, was the hardest to see through, the glass of his personality fogged and smoke-scarred so that the image of the inside was warped and uncertain. Dim. Shadowed. Leli watched him intently as he stood in the rain, measured the shape of his lips as he spoke, watched the curve of his shoulders as he left. Masks and naked flesh at the same time.

The sudden insight brought a twisted grin to her lips.

 

“Hm.” Jadros’ voice broke the pattern of the rainfall, something akin to exasperation in the sound. “Well, it looks like it’s the three of us, unless you’ve got plans, too, lad.”

 

The ‘lad’ in question shrugged, gazing down the empty street. “Hadn’t really thought beyond dinner and a dry bed, honestly.”

 

Jadros chuckled at that, brushing a drop of water from the tip of his nose. “That’s a sentiment I can appreciate. Maybe we should all just relax, get some rest, and l-“

 

Lelianye interrupted the idea with a sharp tug on her superior’s sleeve, her head shaking in a vehement ‘no’. Having caught the older man’s curious gaze, she smiled excitedly and tipped her chin down a side street, raising her free hand to her mouth to pantomime drinking from a mug. The activity was clear enough to both men, but just where she intended to drag them required a little more than a vague gesture. Unfortunately, the small woman didn’t seem to be offering anything more. She just gazed at him hopefully, oblivious to the rain pelting her upturned face.

 

Shrugging, Jadros nodded his trusting ascent and glanced over at Matthias. “It seems Leli wants to invite us to dinner, Matthias. Y’interested? I’m sure we can beat an evening spent alone.”

 

After a moment’s thought, the young man nodded, unfolding his arms for the first time since they’d left the conference room. Though he peered at his small, silent teammate while he answered, he was very careful to let none of his curiosity and growing surprise show on his face. “Sure. As long as the floor’s dry and the food’s warm, I’m game.”

 

***

 

Two hours later, Jadros’ booming laugh echoed through the small tavern called Kogroy’s Black Hole, its stentorian tones easily overwhelming the less obtrusive tenor of Matthias’ echoing chuckle. Though the three companions had started out with a warm meal and quiet conversation, time-honored military tradition and Lelianye’s wordless insistence had quickly turned the food to drink and the conversation to wild war-stories and amusing anecdotes that seemed to get louder and more hilarious with each ale. The last night before a world-changing campaign seemed to be a good time to get a little drunk, though each of the specialists from the 3rd Division knew exactly how to do so without risking the mission in the morning.

 

Leli smiled brightly in shared mirth as the men voiced their enjoyment of Jadros’ best tale, one of her favorites from his first year in the Confederacy. Fuzzy as her thoughts had become, she saw the transformation clearly, watching in fascination as Matthias’ smile brought his luminous personality shining through from its hiding place behind the mask of obscurity he always wore. Passing him in the ranks of their home division, dealing with him here and there when their units chanced to cooperate on a campaign, she had seen only his invisible mien, the attitude that made him as easy to overlook as a chair in a dark corner. The contrast was amazing.

 

“By the Fist, you’re telling me you managed t’hold th’entire rebel town with only five men? You’re a magefired liar, aren’t ya? Admit it!” The scout’s harsh words were softened by his awestruck expression and the smile curling his lips.

 

Jadros laughed, waving his hand as if he could swat the accusations out of the smoke-clouded tavern air. “Naw, it’s the truth. Ask Cap’n Katherina if y’don’t believe me, pup. She was the one who came up with the whole scheme. See, we’d caught on t’the Loomie spy, an—“

 

“Oy, oy, lookit!” All three of the soldiers turned at the gruff voice that shoved itself rudely into the story. “Them’s Confederacy uniforms, ain’t they?”

 

The intruder was a sailor, fully drunk if the glassy look in his eyes and the wobble to his legs was any indication. Brash. Loud. Smiling like a kid ‘neath the Firnight Pine as he staggered up behind Matthias and leaned an unwelcome-but-friendly arm around the young scout’s shoulders.

 

“B’the waves, I’ll be dinged if they isn’t! A toast t’me brothahs in th’army, lads,” came the ear-splitting bellow. “Death t’the Looms!” The chipped mug in the stranger’s sun-dark hands sloshed dangerously right above poor Matthias’ head as he raised it for a toast. Cringe-worthy as the moment was, the soldiers each politely raised their own drinks, smiling their embarrassed thanks as many of the patrons cheered.

 

“Glad to serve, sir,” Jadros spoke up, standing to offer his hand to the enthusiastic sailor. “It’s always good to meet a proud citizen like yourself.” Somehow, he even managed to keep his voice steady despite the vigorous buffeting he got while the stranger pumped his arm happily.

 

“Ye’re a good man, good man!” Beaming, he squinted across the table, his alcohol-pickled brain finally registering the details of the third figure there. “Och! An’ good lady, I sees. Th’army be prettier ever’time I looks at it.”

 

Leli grinned and winked, nodding her head at the compliment as the man untangled himself from Matthias’ shoulders. With a great swig, he managed to empty his mug, and the lack of alcohol seemed to successfully divert his attention to the bar across the room. “Mff. Throne keep yaz,” the sailor mumbled, shuffling unsteadily around the edge of the table, his thirsty gaze on the balding bartender. “Oy, ‘keep! I needs me anoth-uh-.. whoa!”

 

The stumble was innocent enough and not surprising considering the harsh man’s impairment. One moment, he was safely on his way to the bar, and the next saw him tumbling in a confused heap straight towards Lelianye’s lap. Only Jadros knew the danger, but he didn’t have enough time to do anything more than bark a warning before the sailor found himself splayed across her seat… her thankfully empty seat.

 

Matthias blinked in surprise as he considered his teammate, impressed not only by the display of acrobatics that took her from her seat to a neat, ready crouch on the rickety old table but by the impressive speed with which she moved. She was good. Good, but … the tracker didn’t miss the flash of panic and rage that was quickly gone from her face. Nor did he fail to see the gleam of the dagger that she pressed back into the shadows of her left sleeve. Had she come as close as it looked like to actually attacking a drunk civilian? One look at the relief on Jadros’ face gave Matthias his answer and awakened a dozen more questions.

 

As the young soldier watched his unassuming teammate smile and nod calmly to the old sailor’s apologies, he found himself reflecting on her recent return and sincerely hoping that her answers weren’t going to be a threat to them all.

[Wyvern]

The next morning, each of the selected soldiers was awakened early by a formal escort. Their breaths steamed in the drafty morning air as they passed through empty Gremsdale courtyards, watching as shop windows lit up to prepare for another normal day of business. The rain no longer fell, but its smell stuck in the moisture of the air and lingered in limp tree branches and puddles of mud. A faint fog weaved its way through the Confederate Stables by the time the soldiers arrived, and Gerald rose from a bench to meet them.

 

"Right on time." Gerald yawned, then nodded a greeting to each of them. "I'm assigned to saddle you people up and see to your departure. Come on, let's get this over with."

 

Gerald gestured to the adventurers and they followed him into the enormous rows of the Stables. The familiar scent of animals mingled with the dampness of rain as they passed by numerous compartments, and Gerald paused at a particular stall with a red ribbon tied to the front of it.

 

"You'll have five horses to work with." Gerald reached through a ring of keys and turned one on the stall's lock. "We would give you six... but I'm sure you'll find that Haste here could carry three, let alone two."

 

A large black horse stepped out from the stall, led on a leash held by Gerald. The great horse's hooves trotted hungrily in the mud with heavy steps, and it snorted a large cloud of steam in the morning air.

 

"This is Haste, one of the prized horses of the Confederate Stables." Gerald patted the horse's mane affectionatly. "You could say that he'll set an example for the other horses you choose to ride on. Up to you all who decides to-"

 

Gerald paused suddenly as he eyed the team of soldiers.

 

"Five of you?" The adventurers turned to one another, glancing about quizzically. Gerald frowned. "Great, so much for being on time. Where is Merlyn Avogadro?"

[Canid]

Gerald pushed on. Merlyn would have to miss an introduction to Haste.

The other horses too, as it happened; all five were out and being inspected by their intended mounts when the escort showed up by himself and saluted Gerald.

“Where’s Merlyn?” asked the Captain instantly.

“His campsite was empty, Sir. I made enquiries and he left in full gear yesterday, Sir.”

The horses stopped their twitching and turned to watch the escort with as much interest as their companions.

“Left?” Gerald had a tone of mild incredulity. “Left where?”

“I had one account of him heading East. No one else saw him go, Sir.”

Gerald rolled back on his heels and took a moment’s thought.

“Go check for his tracks and confirm it. Dismissed.”

 

Jade perked up. “Captain Gerald! I see him.”

Gerald and the others strode up beside Haste, on which Jade was seated and followed her gaze.

Merlyn was stepping out from the eastern treeline with long, even strides.

In one hand was a log carrier, filled with uprooted plants and sticks, in the other a large, handled cloth box.

“Mount up!” ordered Gerald, and then marched quickly towards the approaching soldier.

Merlyn nodded a salute as the Captain closed in. “I apologize for being late, S-“

“It’s noon!” Gerald exclaimed.

“My apologies Captain. It is a long hike to the nearest bog and the extracts I can gather from this mud will prove invaluable to us. Well worth a few hours delay. I count five horses, Sir?”

“That is all we have at our disposal. You are riding on the large stallion with Jade.”

Merlyn smiled gratefully and nodded a second time. “Thank-you, Sir.”

“Mud, Merlyn?”

“Marsh mud, rich in gasses among other things,” he lifted the cloth box, “very heavy, though. With your permission, Captain, I will proceed?” Merlyn inclined his head toward the horses.

Edited May 7, 2005 by Canid

[Katzaniel]

It turned out Haste would be shared by Jade and Merlyn. Grasshopper was happy about that, as he seemed a good horse. She checked his hooves, knowing it was probably unnecessary, and mounted him, listening to the voices around her but carefully scanning the horizon.

 

Just as Captain Gerald was dismissing the escort, Merlyn appeared. Jade announced his arrival and watched as he presented his excuse, which did not seem to be very good. If it's such a long hike, why did he make it? And why not sooner, if it's so necessary? she wondered, but kept her peace.

 

Soon, everything was ready and they moved on. Deciding that a long silent journey would be the least enjoyable option, Grasshopper began the conversation. "So, what did everyone else do with their last day?"

[Orlan]

Hrath listened to the plodding on of the horses. It was the noisiest utter silence Hrath had heard in a while, at least since his last bad joke competition. No one seemed to be keen to answer that question. No one seemed much into doing anything about anything right now. Hrath glanced around at a bunch of a faces that were trying desperately to look away, and not engage in conversation. Hrath sighed softly, tilted his head backwards and blew out a ring of smoke.

 

"I had tea with my mother," Hrath spoke up. He reached up a hand and took the cigar out of his mouth and plew another ring, trying to catch the first ring he blew. He tilted his head back down straight and saw four sets of eyes staring at him. Only Matthias and the little Lelianye were not staring. Hrath shot an eyebrow up at Jade. "What? You asked. You surprised I have a mother? Did you assume I was spawned from something horrible," Hrath gave him a smirked look.

 

"Though....that's not too far from the truth," Hrath conceded. He puffed on his cigar again, blowing another ring, this time framing Jade in it. "And what did you do lil' lady, since you popped the question?" Jade obviously was not expecting this out of Hrath because there was a moment of confusion, as if she did not know immediately what to say. "Come now, you wanted to share! No?" Hrath barrelled on, not giving her a moment to reply. "Jadros!" he said leaning over and slapping the big man on the back. "What did you do? My shoulder's still in tact which means we didn't spar." Hrath allowed himself a little chuckle as Jadros gave an amused snort in his direction.

 

"You just didn't see the kick coming last time," Jadros said. Hrath grinned.

 

"Sneaky man," Hrath said, patting his horse Buttercup, which was NOT his idea, on the its neck. "Still, what DID you do anyway?"

[Katzaniel]

The man who answered was the one who had looked at her with an air of superiority as she had left, earlier. The one she'd vowed to watch. Grasshopper was surprised at that, a little, and surprised at his answer... which was what surprised her even more. Why shouldn't he have had tea with his mother?

 

"And what did you do lil' lady, since you popped the question?"

 

By the time Jade realized he had her a question, he was already smugly declaring that she wasn't going to answer. Of course I'm willing to share, she thought irately. I knew we'd get around to that sometime, just not right away. Grasshopper watched the exchange between Hrath and Jadros, wondering what she had missed between them.

 

"Still, what DID you do anyway?"

 

"I don't know anyone around here," she answered, trying to sound as casual as possible. She didn't want him to know that his manner unnerved her, if only a little. "So I went to catch the latest news at the Red Yeti."

[Gyrfalcon]

Hrath looked around at the small band as they trotted along the road, frowning slightly as his gaze swept across Jade and Lelianye, and counting the other three horses. Three horses... he counted again, then realized that Matthias was missing.

 

“Did anyone see where Matthias went?” he asked, reining his horse around to look back the way they came, thinking it quite possible that Matthias had been slow to start out... thinking back, he couldn’t really remember seeing Matthias much beyond leaving the stable.

 

None of the others had seen Matthias leave either, many not having seen him since that morning, with Lelianye giving him a confused shrug. Only Jade could remember seeing him after they left the compound, leading his horse down a side road soon out of the gates.

 

Hrath cursed softly to himself and shook his head “Well, that’s a fine time to go visit his family... he was supposed to do that yesterday!” he complained as he swung his horse around again and lead the procession towards a crossroads. “Well, if he doesn’t catch up with us by the time we reach Glenfurel, I’ll have to report him as AWOL.”

 

Lelianye and Jadros exchanged surprised looks. While neither knew Matthias personally, this sort of behavior wasn’t exactly in line with the Third’s reputation for excellence, or the caliber of soldier that Katherina Lumenda would select for this mission.

 

The group took the left-most path and continued down the road, soon Hrath blinked and squinted. The otherwise empty road contained a single traveler on a chocolate-brown horse that trotted towards the traveling group. As the traveler came abreast of Hrath, he saluted casually. “The road is empty for the next three miles, sir, and there’s no sign we’re being followed.” Matthias reported in a quiet, calm voice.

 

Hrath shook his head and frowned. “And who told you to go scouting without a word to anyone, Matthias?” He said with a mixture of irritation and humor.

 

“I’m a scout, sir. It’s my job to make sure that we won’t run into surprises or find one tailing us.” Matthias said in an uninflected voice, his eyes locking with Hrath’s for a moment before being deferentially lowered.

 

Hrath shook his head and sighed. “Well, next time tell me before you go haring off like that, if only for the peace of my mind!”

 

Matthias saluted. “Yes sir.” he said, swinging his horse into line at the back of the traveling column, patting the gelding’s neck.

 

The rest of the day proceeded uneventfully, with a few quiet attempts at conversation breaking up the monotonous travel, but the majority of them lost in their thoughts. Matthias thought it likely that many of them were still absorbing the scope of their mission – a decapitating blow to the Loom Rebellion, the loss of one of their foremost leaders!

 

As darkness began to fall, they made camp in a small clearing at the side of the road with a small stream running along the edge of the clearing. Hrath efficiently assigning each of them tasks, showing despite whatever bad qualities he might have, he was a good enough commander on the road. Perhaps as punishment for disappearing without orders, Matthias was assigned to care for the horses, unsaddling them, grooming out their coats for burrs and snags, and making sure they had access to sufficient grass and water for the night.

 

By the time the horses were squared away, a fire crackled warmly in the center of the clearing, and Jade was stirring a pot hanging over the fire... from the smell of things, some form of soup or stew. He walked over to his saddlebags and rooted around in a compartment, finally coming up with some wrapped bundles, which he brought over to Jade.

 

“Here you go, Sergeant. Some wild onion, sage, a bit of lemongrass... should make the stew a bit more tasty.” he said quietly.

[Katzaniel]

Spices?

 

Jade looked Matthias over. He was holding out the bag, not quite smiling but apparently earnest. She took a bundle from his hands, peered in, and nodded, trying a smile. "Thanks."

 

It was a nice gesture, and Jade knew that the meal would taste much better with these additions, but she wasn't sure what else he wanted. He just stood there, watching as she added the items.

 

"Um... so, where are you from?" she put forth, stirring.

 

"Valensia," he replied. A moment's pause, then he echoed her own question.

 

"Lamoss."

 

No one else was paying much attention. Grasshopper struggled in her mind for something else to say. She couldn't remember what Orin had said about Matthias - though she supposed it had something to do with scouting - so there was no inspiration from that. She was spared the effort when he spoke again.

 

"Did you hear anything interesting last night at the tavern?"

 

With relief she answered. This was something that she could talk about. "A murder in the streets, night before last. Popular opinion says a theft gone bad, but I discovered that the knife was in the man's back. Nothing related to us, I'm sure, but it's always good to know about these things."

 

"What do you think it was?" he queried, voice not betraying any emotion. Grasshopper suspected that he was only casting about for something to say in order to keep the conversation going. Jade wondered what reason he had to keep talking, but immediately dismissed any possibility of danger from him. Their superiors would never have chosen him for this mission if there was a chance of his motives being discordant with those of the Confederacy. He must simply be trying to get to know her.

 

"I'm not sure. Obviously someone wanted him dead; could be someone was hired to kill him, but did a poor job of making it look like an accident."

 

Matthias nodded thoughtfully, then the awkward silence returned. Eventually Jade lifted the pot from the fire. "Meal's ready," she announced, moving back toward the rest of the company.

[Tamaranis]

Jadros was fully and completely prepared for another not particularly appetizing meal on the road. He had long ago ceased to fear such things and now simply expected them instead. So he was surprised, shocked even, at the quality of the food Grasshopper and Matthias had prepared.

 

This was so unexpected that he didn’t immediately comment. He ate a bit more first, making sure that first bite hadn’t been some sort of a fluke. When he discovered it wasn’t he felt his mood unexpectedly and inexplicably improve.

 

“Best food I’ve had on the road in as long as I can remember,” he declared, “and I can remember a lot of being on the road.”

 

Leli smiled a bit, and Grasshopper and Matthias seemed to appreciate the appreciation.

 

Jadros immediately realized he’d just complimented Grasshopper’s cooking, and that this might provoke a comment from Hrath that would deepen the rift between the two of them. Hrath was his superior and a good man, Jadros didn’t want to confront him directly regarding the matter, but he didn’t want any members of Lymnor’s hand becoming alienated, either.

 

“I can remember a couple of times we had food like this in camp, though.” he added, then laughed a little, “We had this angry little guy cooking in the camp when I was on the Mynten campaign, and he caused me about as much trouble as anyone I ever commanded.”

 

Jadros stopped to process another mouthful, “He made food like this, and he felt real important about it. Now, people thought they could kind of shove him around, ‘cause he was a little guy, about yay high,” Jadros held his hand out to indicate the stature of the cook in question,

 

“Now he’d usual work a couple of extra hours after his shift, because like I said, he took himself really seriously, and thought what he was doing was really important-not that I objected to that. He was a good cook. But troops would sort of slink over from their assigned mess tent to eat at his, and so there would still be people hanging around looking for food when he finished up.”

 

Jadros chuckled again at the memory, ate some more, then continued, “Now, a hungry soldier isn’t exactly the most diplomatic sort, so sometimes he’s trying to close up for the night, and hungry troops hanging around don’t want to go eat at some other tent, and they’d kind of try to intimidate him a bit.”

 

“He was little, and people thought they could push him around,” Jadros continued, “but as soon as someone touched this guy, he’d just explode. He’d be swinging at anything that moved. Now we had some big lads in that campaign, but they just didn’t see it coming, and half the time they ended up hurt as bad as he did. Usually to stop it we had to get two or three people on him.”

 

Jadros shook his head and ate a little more, “Now I don’t know how many of you remember the Mynten campaign, but we had some bad intel, and one of our camps got hit really hard. And as usual, this stuff happens to me.

 

“So we’re totally overrun, they’re right in the camp, can’t use my bow, I’m slicing at looms left right and centre,” Jadros was speaking animatedly, he was telling the story for its own sake now, “And this bloody loom, all high on magic, doesn’t even have a sword or anything, rushes right at me.”

 

Jadros put another spoonful of the stew into his mouth, chewed swallowed, and grinned, “So I catch him right across the belly and chest,” He mimed a swing, “and it should have killed him, but this guy was thicker than me and taller than Hrath by a longshot both ways. He just charged right through it, grabs me,” Jadros mimed a bearhug this time, “And just keeps on going. I’ve lost my sword by now, of course, and he just bulls right into the mess tent.”

 

Jadros laughed out loud, “And we go into the mess tent, and I see that angry little cook still going about his business cooking. And he was mad. It was like, ‘how dare these assholes fight right beside my kitchen?’ So the big loom runs me into this table with all sorts finished meals laid out on it, and me and the loom and the table all go over.”

 

“He had me against the ground and he was so bloody strong I couldn’t believe it. He’s crushing the life out of me and I’m thinking, ‘this is it, I’m dead.’ But suddenly the loom forgets about me and stands up, and little cooks hanging from the loom’s back by a kitchen knife!”

 

Jadros was laughing as he spoke, “So this big dumb loom, all high on magic and doesn’t really even know what’s going on is trying to grab little cook, but he’s too big and he can’t reach. So he starts rolling around, and can’t get him off. He picks up the table and he’s hitting his back with the bloody table, but angry cook just won’t let go. So just as I get up again and I’m looking for some kind of weapon, the loom runs backward into the tent pole, and the whole mess tent comes down.”

 

“By the time I get the damn canvas off me and find where the big loom and the angry cook were, the cook’s all beaten up and bleedin’ all over the place, and loom? he’s dead! I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m just glad that bloody cook decided it was the loom’s fault that table got knocked over and not mine.” Jadros set about finishing his meal.

Edited November 20, 2005 by Tamaranis