A Grand Adventure

Marisa tried her best not to jump up and pace the tidy kitchen. Trelin was late, AGAIN. She just hoped he wasn't at the tavern with Levina. Their cousin caused nothing but trouble. The last time Trelin had a mug of ale with her, she wound up offending a drunken dwarf. The ensuing bar fight had landed Trelin, Levina, the dwarf, and five other people in jail. If only her father and mother were still alive. She put her head in her hands as tears rolled down her cheeks. Even though the town had managed to battle Loerth and his army back, both her parents had perished in the battle. Everyone knew that the blood-thirsty tyrant would return. His lust for domination was just too strong. She was grateful that she had inherited her father's skill with a blade. Her sword arm was strong, her aim true. Yet she couldn't keep track of the one remaining member of her family! The door slammed. She dried her eyes hurriedly and leapt to her feet. She ran to the common room. Her brother, tall and strong, stood beside her father's oldest and dearest friend, Joran.

"Where have you. . ."She began, then got a look at his face. It was ghostly pale, and he was sweating. "What is it?" She asked.

"Joran and I. . . we. . . " He stammered.

"We found a body, Marisa," The elven magic user said quietly, "Your brother found her on the side of the road," Calmly, the small elf led his friend to a chair. He had seen much death in his long lifetime, a lifetime that had included friendships with these young ones, their parents, and their parent's parents. An elf choosing to live in a human town expected to witness the death of his friends. The waste of life he'd witnessed had shocked even him.

"Loerth's men again?" She asked, eyeing her sword, well polished and at the ready near the fireplace.

"No," Joran replied, his heart heavy, "She was cut up, murdered. Marisa," He crossed to her, taking her hands in his, "It was Lerisa."

"NO!" Marisa shouted, pulling away. She searched the face of the man she'd loved since childhood. His delicate elven features were grief-stricken, and his eyes held the truth. She stumbled back, bumped into the wall, and slid to the floor, sobbing as though her heart would break.

Joran knew that kind of grief. Lerisa had been Marisa's best friend nearly since birth. He hated this, this knowing that there wasn't a spell in his books that could help her now.

She didn't deserve another tragedy, no one in Locansville did. After Loerth's army had come riding into town, so much had been burned, and too many lives had been shattered. Now, this new tragedy would tear the town asunder quicker than Loerth's men ever could. Lerisa, a young cleric of Leesha, had been well-loved by the town. After Loerth had been driven away, leaving devastation behind, she had pulled everyone together, helped bury the dead and rebuild the town. She had become the people's hope, and now she lay dead. Joran remembered the day of the attack. His friends lay dead, broken swords still clutched in their hands. Marisa and Trelin, his godchildren, stood weeping over their parent's broken bodies, He, to, had fought, pitting his spells against Loerth's own sword. He had exhausted every spell in he knew, and himself, trying to save Reetha and Meran. He'd allowed a single tear to run down his face before he'd collapsed, spent, in a heap. No, after burying both father and mother less than three months ago, these children did not deserve to bury a friend as well.

"How?" Marisa asked, drying her eyes on her skirts. She stood, moving to sit on the arm of Trelin's chair and rub his shoulders.

"A dagger, most likely," Trelin said quietly.

"We must go to the temple now. We must tell Malynn of her sister's death. Her heart will be broken," Marisa said, ignoring the pangs from her own shattered heart. She went to get her cloak and her weapon. It saddened her that, even in her grief, she must still prepare for battle. By the gods, she had to strap on her sword to go fetch a bottle of milk! Pushing that thought away, she remembered her friends, Larisa and Malynn. Together they were raised, together they heard the call of Leesha, and together they followed it. How was she to tell Malynn that from that day forward, she would walk alone?

"Come," she said to her brother, holding out a hand, it is time to be strong for Malynn now."

"Yes," Trelin looked up into his sister's face, "For Malynn," and for you my brave sister, he added silently. He remembered watching her run her sword through the man who had killed their mother, then turn instantly to take an arrow meant for him. He thanked Leesha every day that the arrow had been deflected by her armor.

When they arrived at the temple, Marisa laid a hand on Joran's arm, saying, "I will tell her, it is only right." Joran opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. If that was what she felt she must do, he would not stop her. He stopped Trelin's protest with a look.

"May I help you?" The white robed cleric who opened the door asked. Then she saw who stood before her. Her aged face broke into a smile, "Joran, Marisa, Trelin! Welcome! Are you here to see Malynn? Lerisa's out and about today," Her eyes lit on Marisa's tear streaked face. She looked at the other's, and man and elf both had tears drying on their faces as well, "What is it? You've been crying."

"We must see Malynn, Danessa, please, it is urgent," Marisa replied softly. With a nod, the old woman went to find the young one.

"Yes?" Marisa said as she came to the door. She waved them in cheerfully. The wide smile on her face faded as she saw the tears drying on the cheeks of her friends. Watching the unshakable elf weep worried her more than anything else, "What is it?"

"Malynn," Marisa said, reaching for her friend's hand, "I have something I must tell you. Lerisa's," Her voice betrayed her, broke, "Lerisa's dead."

"No, it's a mistake, a horrible lie. NO!" Malynn stepped back, studying the faces of her dearest friends. No, she knew it couldn't be a mistake. In front of her stood three of the people she loved best in the world. They wouldn't say such a thing unless it were true. Suddenly, the room spun and her world went black.

Joran realized what was happening first. Being the quickest, he caught her before she hit the floor. Marisa ran off to find Danessa.

"Leave her to me now. She needs to rest, to pray. Come back later," the grieving cleric said after Trelin told her the news, "You must tell me where to find Lerisa, she must be given back to Leesha."

Stopping a step or two behind the siblings, Joran replied quietly, "Sir Wilhelm took her from the woods. He's probably on his way here. I asked him to give us a little time. I knew that Marisa would want to be here when Malynn was told." "Yes, that is best," Danessa watched them walk away, the tall humans flanking the elf. She offered up a prayer for the living, knowing they would need it most.

"Trelin! Marisa!" A young knight called, rushing up to them.

"Yes, Sir Levinth?" Trelin stopped and turned his attention to the young man who had dedicated his life to the service of the town. His father had been a knight an, as far as Trelin was concerned, young or old, they deserved respect.

":I was on guard duty last night at the jail. I thought you'd like to know, they locked up your cousin again," Before Trelin could reply, the enthusiastic young man hurried on, "I have to go, Sir Wilhelm has called a meeting at the fortress," With that he rushed off to have his hope shattered.

"As if we didn't have enough to worry about," Marisa spat out, "I wonder who's pocket they found her hand in this time? Come on, we'd better get her out!"

An hour later, the grieving friends of the slain cleric gathered at the fortress at Sir Wilhelm's request. Also at the knight's request, they were dressed for battle. He studies each of them in turn.

Marisa stood, back against the wall, facing him. She was in full armor, helm in hand. Anger and confusion were slowly replacing the grief in her eyes. Her flowing mane of flame colored hair was wound in a complicated plait around her head. He knew she had the strongest sword arm in town. It was a shame that he couldn't knight her. In her hands a blade was as deadly as her looks. The beautiful 18 year old girl was often underestimated. No one made THAT mistake twice!

Next to her sat her elder brother, in supple leather armor. He'd insisted that his sister take their father's armor. A battle-axe was strapped to his back. It's edge was sharpened deadly keen. The young woodsman had his father's mane of raven hair and his mother's fair skin. He took his job as eldest seriously, even while recognizing his sister's great skill with fierce pride. The peace loving woodsman didn't have his sister's skill, but Sir Meran's blood surged hot in his veins when someone threatened those he loves. The knight could see that blood in the 28 year old man's eyes now.

As Sir Wilhelm's eyes landed on Joran, they softened. He remembered watching balls dance in those clever fingers as a child. He remembered reaching for the mage's pointed ears in wonder, and being rewarded with the elf's tinkling laughter. He also remembered picking up Joran's lifeless body after the battle, thinking it was too late. The elf's face had been ghostly white, his breathing alarmingly shallow. He found out later that the magic user had called upon spells beyond even his extensive powers, exhausting himself. He had been trying to save his friends, and the knight knew that that failure hung heavily on Joran's heart. Wilhelm knew just as certainly that he could count on Joran.

He wasn't so sure of the beautiful woman sprawled lazily across a chair beside the elf. Levina was a mystery. His men spent much of their tie locking the woman in a cell. They spent even more time mesmerized by her charms. Her golden hair tumbled over bare shoulders. The blouse and tight men's trousers she wore let very little to the imagination. Her many pouches dangled from her slim waist along with a thin rapier. He knew she could use it. It still shamed him to remember watching her plunge it into the back of a goblin that had very nearly killed him the day of the invasion. He also knew that the long, loose sleeves of her blouse, the only loose part of her outfit, hid daggers tipped with poison. No, her he wasn't entirely sure of. She had an unsavory reputation as a hired sword and assassin. She had a quick temper as well. At 30 she had outlived the life expectancy of her profession by wit and skill alone. She had loved Lerisa fiercely and loyally. He was counting on those feelings now.

Finally, his eyes fell on Malynn. Her face was pale and her eyes red. She looked so small. Yet, beside her sister she had stood, becoming the strength of a ravaged town. Her was counting on her steady faith to anchor the others. They had a hard path to follow.

"So, handsome, why are we here?" Levina asked slowly, hiding her raw edged pain behind a seductive smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She earned a sharp look from her cousin, and responded with a sneer. Little Miss Know it All, she thought derisively

"One of my men overheard something in the tavern last night. They didn't understand it until they were told about Lerisa. It seems tat a few of Loerth's men went rogue after the battle here. It seems, Merisa, that you ran your sword through Loerth's second-in-command, a much loved and respected man in his army. They have vowed revenge."

"He killed my mother!" Marisa hissed.

"Yes, I know. These men must be stopped!" The knight said quietly.

"So, send dome of your men," Levina said, shrugging carelessly. Inside, she was plotting. She would find them, and run each and every one of them through. Not being a fool, Sir Wilhelm caught the angry glint in her eye and cheered silently.

"I lost most of my men in the battle. Sending even one would leave us unprotected."

"Of course," Joran said quietly. He understood Wilhelm's plan perfectly. Everyone in that room loved Lerisa. Each and every one of them would lay down their lives for each other. Even Levina, though she would cut out her own tongue with one of her poisoned daggers before she'd admit it. The plan was solid, the elf decided. On top of loyalty, each of them had skill and bravery. He pushed aside the niggling doubt left over from his defeat by Loerth and said, "You want us to go. I'm in."

"Of course I'll go!" Marisa said firmly, hate flashing in her eyes.

"If she goes, I go," Trelin said, reaching for his sister's hand.

"What's in it for us?" Levina asked. Marisa snorted.

"A reward has been offered for their heads, 10,000 gold for each of you," The knight replied, knowing that Levina would go, with or without the money.

"Ok," Levina said, sitting up and paying attention. She didn't mention the fact that she'd have gone anyway. She wouldn't give her cousin the satisfaction.

:"My share will go to the church," Malynn said firmly. After a moment everyone else agreed to give theirs to the church Lerisa had dedicated her life to as well. Only Levina remained silent, vowing to donate hers anonymously. She had loved Lerisa more than she could ever love money!

They rode through the gates of town. A mage, a cleric, the children of a deceased knight, and an assassin. On their heads rested the fate of an entire town.

"All I know is, I'm keeping Levina in sight. I don't trust her," Marisa muttered to her brother. Keeping his own counsel, Trelin hid a smile diplomatically. He knew that his sister and cousin gloried in their arguments. He also knew that if there was danger, one would fight like a hellcat to save the other. Family was family, after all.

It had been two days since the meeting in the fortress. Joran watched Trelin hide his amusement behind his hand and smiled. The elf still couldn't bring himself to share the enthusiasm of the others. This was a grand adventure to them, a search for justice. The elf was beginning to believe that he should have left this journey to the young. He had seen the power inside Loerth, and it frightened him. His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling in the woods. He stopped, holding up a hand to silence the others.

Marisa laid a hand on her sword. She knew that Joran had exceptional hearing, and was never wrong. She exchanged a look with Trelin and they quietly pulled their weapons, moving to flank Joran. Knowing surprise was her best bet, Levina stepped into the woods. She brought her daggers to hand with a flick of her wrists. Malynn quickly followed suit, knowing her time would come after the battle was over.

Four men stepped from the woods, swords in hand. The largest man bore the mark of Marisa's sword.

"Marisa," was all he said before he struck. Marisa brought up her sword, and the battle began. In moments he lay dead at her feet. She turned to see Trelin locked in battle with two of the men, and the other poised to attack Joran. She moved to intercept the third one. Before she could take more than a step, Joran raised an arm, stopping the enemy in his tracks. Caught in the elf's spell, the man was unable to move.

Levina moved silently through the trees. She came up behind the battle and stabbed one of Loerth's men with her dagger. He crumpled to the ground, dead. With a grateful glance at his cousin, Trelin struck out at the other man, killing him as well. All three then turned to help Joran.

Joran watched this, mesmerized, losing his advantage. When he turned back to his paralyzed enemy he saw Loerth's taunting face and froze. The s[ell wore off and the man sprung. Just before he would have struck he fell.

Levina calmly walked over, pulling her other dagger from the dead man's back.

"Joran?" Malynn called, stepping from the trees, concerned. Joran stood, stock still, muttering "Loerth" over and over.

"No, Joran," Marisa said, stepping forward, "It's not Loerth, look."

"What?" Joran jumped, his eyes cleared, and he looked around," By the gods, I almost. . ." trailing off, he stepped into the woods and disappeared.

"That was too easy," Trelin said quietly, wiping the blood from his axe.

"I know. IT was a trick, a distraction," Levina said while carefully wiping her daggers. She pulled a vial from one of her pouches and dipped each dagger's tip into the deadly contact poison. All this was done with great care. She made sure that none of the poison touched her skin.

"What happened to Joran?" Malynn asked, eyes locked on where the elf had disappeared.

"He just. . .froze. A spell?" Marisa looked at the dead mercenary and knew it was not spell.

Joran took comfort in invisibility. He didn't want the comfort they would offer him. He'd failed himself, and his friends. Absently he sat near the river and pulled the ring off the third finer of his right hand. Though he felt no different, he knew he was visible again. When they found him, he would tell them to go on without him.

"Problems, elf?" A taunting voice asked from behind him.

"NO!" Joran leapt to his feet, turning.

"Yes," the other man replied, smirking. Standing 6'3" tall, he towered over the elf. He had a thick mane of fire red hair and a full beard. He carried a large bastard sword strapped to his back and wore plate mail armor. He made the mage's blood run cold.

"Loerth!" Joran stammered.

"Yes," the tyrant replied, "Do you still no know my secret?"

"The ambush it was. . ." It hit Joran like a flash.

"A trick, yes," Loerth replied, smirking.

"So. . ." Joran struggled to remember the words to a spell, any spell, but he couldn't.

"Don't worry, elf, it wouldn't have worked anyway," Loerth taunted. Then, before Joran's eyes, he began to change.

"It all makes sense now," was the last thing Joran said before all sane thought fled. Fear gripped his heart, touched his very soul. The last thing the elf heard as his life's blood drained from his body was Loerth's laughter.

Loerth looked down at the elf's broken body for a moment, then calmly walked away, smiling.

"He's been gone too long. I'm going to go find him," Malynn said. They were sitting at the edge of the forest. The cleric stood, brushing leaves from her robes.

"If you can see him," Marisa said absently, "Remember his ring?" The young girl smiled, remembering the day she'd used it in a game of hide and seek. She'd followed her brother's desperate search for an hour before literally popping up in front of him.

"He'll come out for me," Malynn said firmly. She walked off into the woods calling for Joran.

"So, if that was only a distraction," Trelin said, continuing their interrupted conversation, "The only question is, distraction from what?"

"Well," Levina began, only to be interrupted by a sharp scream, "Malynn!" As one, they jumped up and ran in the direction of the sound. When they found Malynn, they had weapons in hand.

"JORAN!" The cleric sobbed, crouching beside the elf's limp body. She cradles his head in her lap, sobbing. The part of her that was healer knew it was too late.

"By the gods," Marisa's sword fell from limp fingers. She, too, knew it was too late. Joran's body was lying in a pool of blood, marred by more than a dozen wounds. She stepped forward and closed the mage's staring eyes.

'Who. . .why. . ." Trelin stammered. It was like Lerisa, exactly like Lerisa, was all he could think as his axe joined his sister's sword on the ground.

"NO!" Levina fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Marisa turned at the sound. She was shocked to see raw pain and grief on her cousin's face. Somehow she never imagined Levina could feel those things. She set her own grief aside and went to comfort her cousin.

"Malynn," Trelin said, pulling himself together, "Come. It's too late. There's nothing you can do now," He held a hand out to her. She leapt into his arms and sobbed into his shoulder. He died a little inside. As much as he loved her, he knew she loved Leech more. He let her sob into his shoulder as he led her to a nearby rock to sit down.. He took a blanket and covered Joran's still form. Tears rolled unchecked down his cheeks.

"I must do the Rite of Burial now," Malynn said, calling upon the strength of her faith. She began to chant, imploring the goddess to accept Joran's soul, to keep him, and to love him as they had loved him.

As she wept and prayed, the others began to dig. After the Rite was concluded, she took her turn with the shovel.

"Are you certain Loerth's army is headed for town?" Levina asked doubtfully. She wanted to hunt for the killer. She wanted to watch the life leave his eyes as she twisted her dagger in his gut.

"It is the only explanation," Trelin said wearily. Over the past day and a half he had explained his thoughts to her countless times. He endeavored to explain them yet again, "Look around you. Besides the knights we are the most skilled fighters. You heard Sir Wilhelm, the knights have taken heavy casualties.," the knight looked at Malynn and added, "Other than Danessa, Malynn is the most pious cleric in Locansville. Danessa is advancing in age. What better way to ease their way than to lure us away from town?"

"Yes, Levina, he has explained it all before," Marisa said, showing uncharacteristic patience with her cousin.

"I know, I know," Levina grumbled.

"They're right you know," A voice called from the woods.

"Loerth," Marisa whispered. She drew her sword and called loudly, "Show yourself!"

"Gladly, child," Smirking, the man stepped from the trees, "You didn't think I'd let you make it back to town already, did you?" He laughed.

"You killed my father!" Marisa struck out with her sword. He pushed her away with a casual wave of his arm, knocking her to the ground.

"Careful with that thing, girlie, someone could get hurt," He chided.

"Did you kill Lerisa and Joran?" Trelin asked, gripping his axe tightly.

"Of course!" Loerth said, chuckling.

"For that you will die," Marisa said, rising. She prepared to strike. Loerth held up a hand and she found herself unable to move!

"I thought it a fitting tribute to use the elf's last spell," Loerth said, proving he was watching the earlier fight. He walked up to her and casually plucked the sword from her hand.

"Have a care, Loerth," Trelin said quietly.

"Women should really know their place, don't you think?" Loerth commented, shaking his head.

"Don't you DARE harm my sister," Trelin said dangerously.

"I do as I please," Loerth replied angrily. Suddenly, a wave of fear washed over Trelin/ For a moment he could have sworn he'd seen Loerth's eyes had glow red! He dismissed the thought.

"You're too late anyway," Loerth said, greatly amused. He dropped the sword at Marisa's feet, then turned to face Trelin, "By the time you return to your pitiful little town, it will be mine!"

"Sir Wilhelm will never surrender to you," Malynn spat out, much to her own surprise. She couldn't seem to control her temper. She was facing her sister's killer and was helpless against him. For the first time since finding Leesha, she knew real anger. "Quiet, child, or you will be next," the tyrant said absently.

"You may defeat us. You may even kill us, but you will NEVER break us," Trelin said quietly. He was beginning to see red. The peace loving woodsman tried desperately to reign in his temper.

"Your deaths will suit me just fine," Loerth said and took a step toward the still helpless Marisa..

"NO!" Trelin yelled. His control snapped and he struck out with his axe. Before Loerth knew what was happening the weapon struck.

"You REALLY shouldn't have done that son," Shaking his head the other man turned his attention to Trelin.

"I'm not your son!" Trelin cried, barely dodging the deadly sword.

Marisa fumed silently. She couldn't help, and that frustrated her. She watched in horror as the deadly sword hit its mark on the second blow. Blood oozed from a deep gash in Trelin'' side as he screamed in pain and fury. The look in his eye was feral, and the girl saw nothing of her brother in them. That both shocked and worried her. Then, she stopped struggling against her magical bonds. Her cousin was creeping behind Loerth, rapier in hand. She silently pleaded with Leesha to guide Levina's weapon, joining Malynn's silent prayers.

As Marisa held her breath, Levina struck. The rapier pierced cleanly through Loerth's armor. Trelin dodged at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the weapon protruding from his opponent's midsection.

"And your death will suit ME fine," the assassin said, pulling the thin blade free. Then, she fumbled it, her eyes wide with terror.

"INSOLENT PEASANT!" Loerth roared. His eyes glowed as red as coals. His body began to change. His armor became scales and his weapon deadly sharp claws. He grew until he towered over them. Great wings unfurled from his back. Before them stood a great red dragon!

"You will pay for that, all of you!" The beast roared. He opened his mouth and a great wall of flame spewed forth.

"By Leesha!" Trelin cried, "RUN!"

"Malynn stared at the creature in front of her in shock, terror gripping her very soul. The great dragonfear overcame her and she fled into the trees.

Levina leapt to the side, barely avoiding the beast's deadly breath. She felt the very air around her sizzle and burn. She rolled to her stomach, covering her head, just as the trees where she had been standing burst into flame.

The great beast turned its attention to Marisa. She stood, helpless, as the dragonfear rolled over her in waves. Just as he was preparing to loose his terrible breath, the spell wore off! She leapt behind a large rock and covered her head. The beast roared in pain.

"RUN MARISA!" Levina screamed. Looking up, Marisa saw her cousin standing behind Loerth. The older woman retrieved her rapier and the dagger she had used to distract the dragon before fleeing into the woods.

Marisa collected her sword and followed suit. As if by some unspoken signal, they all ran in the direction of town.

"You will be too late! Your town is mine!" Loerth roared as he struggled to regain both his human form and his temper. Now was not the time. He knew that he had all the time in the world to enact his revenge. He calmed himself down and cast the polymorph self spell that would return him to human form. Then he calmly sheathed his sword and walked off, reminding himself to send a crew to extinguish the flames.

They stopped to regroup a half a mile down the road. As soon as she stopped running, Levina collapsed in agony. Concerned, Malynn rushed over.

"I'm fine," Levina gasped, fighting the pain, "Help Trelin."

"Marisa's taking care of her brother. Let me see," the cleric said briskly. She gasped as she saw the charred flesh on Levina's back, "By the gods," she closed her eyes and prayed for Leesha's aid to heal the burns and ease the woman's pain.

After the cleric did the same for the injured Trelin, they began the journey home. They would rebuild it all again. Something told them, however, that the battle was far from over.