The Brightest lights...cast the darkest shadows

[Trouble Kelp]

On one dark and stormy night...there stands a lone lighthouse guarding the southern crags. A black horse rides towards it, the rider on its back bent lo to avoid the freezing rain and howling wind. Looking up, he smiles at the lighthouse...almost as if he can feel the life inside.

"Snowy? Could you fly over here for a moment?"
Anders waved his hand towards his pet owl, enticing it to draw near. The bird was hesitant at first, but drew closer when Anders held out a piece of salted meat. Darting forward, Snowy picked the meat out of Anders's hand and flew off into the rafters. Anders sighed and slumped back down into his chair, flipping over the page in his book.
"Oh well. One can expect little else out of a live bird. They are very pretty, but I prefer them stuffed."
Laughing at his own little joke, Anders began to read the novel again. Laughing at a funny part, Anders was startled by a loud boom of thunder. Regaining his composure, he also heard a knocking at the door.
"I wonder who that could be?"
Anders quietly closed his book and strolled down the stairs. Arriving at the bottom, he smoothed out his uniform and opened the door. Standing there was a man of average height with back hair, blue eyes, and a long cloak around him that was soaking wet. Looking closer, Anders could see something a little off in his eyes....like he was not quite in the world.
"Yes? Who are you?"
The stranger blinked a few times, then strode in. He smiled oddly, then drew back his hood.
"You can call me Marcus Groothart. Is this the library?"
Anders looked slightly miffed by the statement, then proceeded to settle into lecture mode.
"Well then, Sir Marcus Groothart, this is indeed a library, though it might not be the one you're looking for. There happen to be several other libraries within this stretch of coastline. I could offer you directions to one of them...get you on your way..."
Marcus just grunted, then he strode up the stairs. Sighing heavily, Anders followed behind him.
"Listen, if you can tell me what you want, I'm sure I could oblige you and you could be on your way.."
Stopping, Marcus turned around and grinned again. Striding in close to Anders, he grasped his shoulder and pulled him in close.
"I'm looking for a book"
"And what book would that be?" Anders questioned.
Marcus laughed and pulled Anders a little closer, whispering in his ear.
"The Domia Tera."
Anders mouth formed a shocked O, that expanded into a grimace of pain as Marcus thrust a knife into his ribs. Gasping for air, he fell to the floor. Marcus just laughed, then strode over his limp body.
"Don't overwork yourself, I can find it."
Rummaging among the shelves, Marcus picked out one book. It's spine was back as night, and strange symbols adorned it's surface.
"Well, looky what we have here."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter One: Setting the stage
Part 1: At the dwarven fortress of the Yearnen clan, Khan-holm. A solitary dwarf strides through drifts of snow, trudging towards a massive gate in the distance. Looking up, he see's the great stone doors of his home, and breaths a sigh of relief. He says hello to the guards when he passes by, then walks down the twisted corridors to the Great Hall, where many fires are burning, setting himself down with a sigh, he grabs a bowl and begins to eat.

"Rough day out on patrol?"
Seth turned towards the speaker. Before him was a dwarf of average size with a large axe and a set of dazzling armor on. Seth grunted and turned back to his food.
"The snow's comin' down harder Hrothgar. The solstice is almost here, and I don't want to be the one to freeze me toes off cause some blasted child skipped guard duty."
Hrothgar Sharpick laughed and plopped himself down beside Seth.
"Want me to straighten 'im out for ye? The captain of the guard holds some weight in this mountain yet."
Seth pondered this, then sighed and turned back to his food. The long day had tired him out, and the warmth in the hall welcomed him to sleep. Just as he was about to nod off, a great yelling was heard somewhere farther down the hall. Waking up in an instant, he saw that the dwarves had formed a ring around two of their kin. The one on the right Seth didn't know, but the one on the left would be hard to mistake for any other dwarf in Khan-holm. Standing a head above the other dwarves, his wild black beard roiling down his knotted muscles, Bassa Voldenhelm stood like a colossus in the ocean. Roaring bloody murder, he picked the other dwarf up by his neck and hurled him against a column. A crack could be heard echoing throughout the chamber, and Hrothgar rushed to the wounded dwarf's side, with Seth following him.
"Thank Korigon, it's only a broken rib. You and you, get this dwarf down to the healers."
The two dwarves hurried off with their wounded kin, while Hrothgar and Seth went to where Bassa was standing grinding his teeth. Hrothgar sighed, then raked his hand across his brow and sat down.
"What was it this time Bassa? Your temper is becoming legendary around here, and I'm not sure your status as Forgemaster will save you this time."
Bassa inhaled through his nose and began talking in his thick Northern accent.
"Tha' bloody lad be tryin' ta kill me. 'e almost got 'is knife in to me too, but Ia got 'im before the little bugger got me. No doubt this be Lars doin' again. Ever since Ia defied 'im last month 'es been bloody mad."
"Do you have any proof of this Bassa?"
"Of curse Ia have proof, ye callin' me a liar?"
Seth's eyebrows met, and he pushed his way to stand before Bassa.
"Nobodies callin' anyone of us a liar, but the fact is no one saw the lad try to kill ya, and ye nearly killed him. Now, I'm sure we don't need to hear any more comments about King Lars being involved in treachery, right?"
Bassa steamed silently for a moment, then turned quickly and strode to his forge to beat a piece of metal to splinters. Seth's face lost his grim resolve and collapsed into exhaustion. Hrothgar walked over and gave Seth a hearty back slap.
"That's how ye do it! Bassa's mean when he's angry, but ye stood up to him alright. Good for you lad!"
Seth nodded and got up, strting to walk to his quarters. Hrothgar was helping him when a throne guard walked in front of them.
"Excuse me, the king wants to see both of you immediatly."
Hrothgar and Seth exchanged glances, then followed the guard....one to his death, and one to his destiny.

Part 2: In an inn located 2 kilometers west of Aquilon Bay. The inn is dimly lit, smoke hangs in the air. The walls are made of dark wood and the tables are covered with stains. This inn is full, however, and roaring with noise. All the residents are focused on the card game being played at one of the tables. The audience makes another outburst as the final hand is revealed, the winner decided. He stands and takes a bow, grinning sardonically. His game done, he strides to the bar to have a drink.

"Not a bad bit of coin if I do say so myself. Them fools thought they could beat the Cardmaster....guess again! Corvus Dedamus hasn't lost a game in 15 years."
"Maybe so, but his ego just keeps getting larger and larger."
Corvus frowned, and turned to the source of the voice. Upon seing the speaker, his visage changed to one more resmbling the death mask of a corpse. Standing before him was a man with brown eyes and a scraggly beard. A strong sense of cheap alchohol came off of him, and the red robes he wore were stained with whiskey.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten me, Corvus."
Corvus shook his head and turned back to his drink.
"What the nether are you doing here Gratifi?"
The other man wiped his nose and sat down next to Corvus. Reaching across, he grabbed the bottle Corvus was drinking and swigged the rest of it.
"Oh, you know....this and that. I've actually come across a bit of work you might be interested in. Some elf be hiring people to work for him, no questions asked. Very hush-hush stuff if you get my meaning. You up for it?"
Corvus shook his head and put his knife on the table where Gratifi could see it.
"I'm not in the mood."
Gratifi frowned, then turned away.
"Pity...I'd thought you'd be more receptive to this job. Anyways, if you change your mind, here's something to remember it by."
Gratifi tossed a small object out onto the bar and left. Upon picking it up, Corvus noted it was a small ring with an elven crest on it. Frowning, he picked up his jacket and strode out of the bar, thoughts of the past swirling in his mind.

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 1: Setting the stage
Part 4: A windswept plain south of Oaknorf Forest. An old, crumbling tower rises out of the lonely landscape, forlorn and seemingly abandoned. With the coming of the morning sun however, activity begins to emerge from the tower. A tall Earthspawn walks out and takes in the rising sun, watering the few animals and doing a cursory check of the surrounding area. Satisfied, he turns to go back inside.

"ARGH!"
Startled, Naois Lues ran into the interior of the tower. Sprinting up the stairs, he barged through the door of the top room.
"What took you so long?"
Naois grasped for words for an instant, then went up and slapped Arcone Saeradan's cheek.
"What the nether was that for?"
"You had me worried! What happened that you screamed like that?"
Arcone smiled boyishly, then quickly strode back to the table where an abundance of ingrediants were.
"Sorry, I just got rather startled. I was conjuring an esoteric spirit when it bumped into one of your concoctions and spilled it over the dragon blood. The thing exploded and gave my eyebrows a good singing...but other than that I'm fine."
Naois sighed heavily, then retrieved an ancient broom from the closet abd began to sweep up the mess.
"You know Arcone, one day your elvish nose is going to get blown right off when you're practicing in my potion room. If I've told you once, I've told you 47 times.....DON'T PRACTICE IN MY POTIONS ROOM!"
The last comment was delivered with a great helping of Earthspawn anger. Arcone wilted a little under the assualt of noise, but before he could speak Naois interuppted him.
"Morgan's beard, I'm sorry Arcone...you just don't get it sometimes. Ever since you rescued me from those slavers I've tried to look out for you as a good friend would, but sometimes you really tax my patience. I just wish that you would..."
At that moment a strong wind blew the window open. Naois and Arcone ducked their heads as a gale force wind engulfed the room. Shouting at each other, the wind soon slackened and the two friends raised their heads. Standing in the window leaning jauntily against the ledge was a tall, blond elf with soulless blue eyes and robes of charcoal grey. Jumping down from the window, he strode forward and stood before the two confused friends. Upon seeing the strangers face, Arcone seemed to become both joyous and intensely sad, his eyes holding all his long years despite his youthful appearance and personality.
"Uncle Adilah...what are you doing here?"
Adilah stepped a few steps closer, his hands inside his robes. Naois growled menacingly and stepped in front of Arcone, his broad chest thrust forward. Adilah stopped and smiled cruely at the Earthspawn, despite the difference in size.
"Why nephew, I never knew that you had such a preference for these...creatures. Scum like this is better devoted to working the mines. I had expected more from you in the way of a servant."
Naois growled louder, his eyes beginning to shade over with red mist.
"Naois...don't."
Naois snapped out of his blood fury as Arcone laid a hand on his shoulder. Nodding after a moment, he stepped out of the way as Arcone confronted his uncle.
"I'm going to ask again Uncle Adilah....what are you doing here. I thought you were dead."
"Not quite. I thought I was for a time. However, all that is behind me now. I've come here with a proposition Arcone. Or should I say, a vision I would like your help in creating."
"What vision would this be?"
Adilah smiled fondly at Arcone, like he was smiling at a child. Reaching into his cloak, he drew out a scroll.
"Oh, nothing special. I intend to change the face of the world."
Laughing, Adilah leaped out of the window. Naois ran after him, but when he got to the window, Adilah was gone. Confused, he turned back to where Arcone was sitting, examining the scroll. Walking over, Naois was alarmed at the look in his friend's eyes, as if oblivion was come from reading the scroll.
"Arcone....whats wrong? Who was that? What was he doing here?"
Arcone didn't say anything. Looking a thousand years old, he arose from his chair, dropping the scroll, and left the room, no doubt to have a heavy drink. When Naois picked up the scroll, all that was on it were seventeen words.
Four books of secrets, hidden away, in the dark, in the shadows, from the light of day.

Part 4: A small magic hall in the town of Ruthern. The room is a small study, the walls lined with books and lit by candles. A single scribe is scratching away at a book with his quill. Looking up, he notices a knocking at the door, and rises to open it.

"Who would come at this late hour?"
Basil grumbled as he opened the door, then his mouth formed an O in suprise at his visitor.
"Corvus! What the nether are you doing here?"
Corvus shook his head, then shoved his way past Basil.
"Drink. Now."
Basil sighed, then followed after Corvus. Coming into his study, he found Corvus drinking his secret stash of bourbon. Basil ground his teeth a little, then sat firmly back in his chair.
"Am I going to get an explaination or should I kill you first?"
Corvus finished off his drink, set the glass down and composed himself.
"Gratifi came to me today...he had a business proposition."
Basil subsided into silence, then threaded his fingers and closed his red eyes.
"The usual?"
"He didn't say. Something about an elf hiring mercenaries or some such. Gave me this ring...thought you might be able to make sense of it."
Basil took the offered jewelry and held it up to the light. Grunting, he set it down and scratched his neck.
"Symbol of the Highelven family. Odd....I was under the impression they were mostly gone. The only living members I know of are Lamias and his brother Arcone, though Arcone took the name of his stepfather, Saeradan. Neither of them are the type to hire bounty hunters, or so I've heard."
Corvus nodded, then nodded again....then emitted a loud snore. Basil emitted a loud sigh, then poured himself a drink. Lighting his hand on fire, he gazed at it while he drank.
"So, now comes the time of kings fallen long past....Four books of secrets, hidden away....how did it come to this?"

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 2: A Parting of the Ways
Part 1: The throne room of Khan-holm. The walls are covered in hangings of silk, and great stone pillars range through the hall. Seth and Hrothgar kneel in front of a throne of gold and silver, upon which sits Lars, King of the dwarves. He is a middle aged dwarf, rotund from luxury food, and covered in furs. At his side is the Red Hammer of Khuri, sacred weapon of the dwarven kings. At present, Lars' eyes are closed, as if in sleep.

"Your majesty? The two you requested are here."
King Lars opened his eyes slowly and regarded the warriors coldly. Standing up, he strode forward and adjusted his furs around him.
"Yes, they are. Thank you, Rosharas. And the others?"
"They should be here soon."
King Lars nodded, then turned to sit back down. Seth Jenkins stepped forward though, raising his hand slightly in question.
"Excuse me, King Lars?"
Lars turned around with a scowl on his face, but he motioned for Seth to continue.
"What is this about? And who are the others who are coming?"
"All in good time, loyal dwarf. All in good time. The other party should be here soon..."
At that moment, the doors of the throne room opened with a bang. Two dwarves marched in flanked by the palace guards, their faces lit by torchlight....Bassa Voldenhelm and Krimil Thorinsson, the two most infamous dwarves in the fortress. Bassa was the largest and strongest dwarf on the mountain, and was the only Northern dwarf there. He had a reputation for a nasty temper, and was well worth avoiding when angry. Krimil was a close friend of Bassa's, and also was known for having a temper. He was also something of a thief, though nobody ever prosecuted. He liked to mine alone, and was a loner, aside from his friendship with Bassa. The two of them stopped before the king, barely bowing at all, making it seem more mocking than respectful.
"Majesty."
King Lars scowled deeper, then strode near to Krimil.
"What took you so long?"
Krimil's face curled into a sardonic grin, then nudged Bassa and snickered.
"We ah....couldn't find any reason to drag ourselves up here to see your sorry half-dead over-inflated ego."
King Lars growled loudly, reaching for his hammer, when the sound of scraping metal distracted his attention. Lars looked up to see Bassa nonchalantly drawing a cleaver out of his vest. Smiling, he spun it in the air a few times.
"Ye don't wan' ta do tha', Larsy. Leets just get down ta business and find out why ye dragged me out a me forge."
Lars grunted, subdued, then returned to his throne. Composing himself, he took a box from the table next to him and opened it.
"Two days ago, I found the location of a very precious artifact from the information of my spies. I am determined to have this artifact, but I am not opposed in this enterprise. There is rumor that a small party of elves was sighted travelling towards the location of the artifact. That is why I need the four of you. In exchange for substantial gold rewards, you will travel to the location, grab the artifact, and leave before the elves get there."
The four warriors glanced at each other, grasping for words. After a moment, Seth spoke.
"What exactly is this artifact?"
King Lars smiled as if anticipating the arrival of it.
"A book. A book known as the Domia Firai."

Part 2: A field a few miles north of Arcone's tower. Naois Luis kneels on the ground, gathering plant materials for his potions. Finishing his work, he stands up and begins to walk back to the tower. Naois walks slowly, his mind in turmoil about the events of yesterday. Reaching the tower, he opens the door and walks inside.

"Arcone? I'm back.....Arcone?"
No voice answers his, and Naois strides upstairs. Arcone is nowhere to be found in the tower room. Turning to go, Naois spots a note sitting on Arcones desk. Picking it up, he begins to read it.

Dearest Naois,
I am sorry that this comes at such short notice. I have decided to seek out information pertaining to that scroll my uncle left me. I want to know his full motives. I have some knowledge of this, but not as much as I'd like to know, or what exactly he plans to do with it. Anyways, I digress. I need you to do something for me while I'm gone. The scroll Adilah left me spoke of Four books, of which I know the location of one. It's far to the north, on the border of King Lars' kingdom. I would ask you as a friend, to undertake this journey to find the Domia Firia, the Book of Fire. Please.....there are terrible things at work here. I would never ask you to do this for me if it wasn't with the upmost importance.

Your friend, Arcone Saeradan​

​

Naois stood there, reading and rereading the letter. Finally, he dropped it and began to pack up supplies for the long journey ahead.​

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 2: A Parting of the ways
Part 3: Basil's room. Corvus is sitting in an armchair, snoring soundly, while Basil flips through the pages of an ancient tome. Finishing his work, he closes the book and kicks Corvus in the shin to wake him up.

"Whassathafer?"
"Get up lazy....time to visit someone."
Corvus rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, yawned, and stood up. Stretching, he turned to Basil.
"And who is it that we will be visiting?"
Basil smiled craftily, then busied himself with preparations.
"While you were sleeping the drink off, I've been investigating. The lower elements of society can be very informative if prompted by gold. Turns out that Gratifi paid a visit to a count living here in Ruthern on some sort of 'official business', most likely involving that job he talked about. I'd like to go see just what business that was."
Corvus groaned, then nodded and pulled on his coat.
"Lovely. And we'll just walk in through the front door I suppose. We're not exactly royalty."
Basil raised his eyebrows suggestively, then retrieved a black bag from a drawer in his desk. Corvus's eyes lit up, and he began to grin.
"Ah....so not the front door then."
Basil chuckled, then tossed Corvus the bag full of equipment. It clinked slightly when he caught it, and felt like it was full of tools.
"Right...time to go commit some crime."
Laughing, the two friends ran off into the midday sun, galavanting towards their target with carefree abandon.

Part 4: A road running north in the territory of King Lars. A group of riders is coming past, covered in black shrouds. They carry swords and bows, their faces dark and forbidding. The lead rider raises his fist, signalling the others to stop. Spurring his horse forward slightly, he stops and sniffs the air, waiting for something.

Marcus glanced at the cliffs to either side for a moment, before grunting and signalling 'all clear' to the elves behind him. Pulling his cloak tighter about him, he permitted himself a grim smile.
"I trust everything is alright?"
Marcus started as the figure of Adilah seemed to materialize out of the rock in front of him. Swearing strongly, he reined in his horse and dismounted.
"What in Akatosh's name are you doing here?"
"I simply wanted to know how the campaign is going...and to thank you for your continued cooperation in this matter. I do so hope that any choices in the future will benefit us both."
Marcus grimaced as he caught the double meaning of the words, then crossed his arms in annoyance.
"Is that it? I'm a little busy right now...you know, trying to get another one of your precious books. Why don't you fly away and leave the work to the man you hired, elf."
Adilah's eyes narrowed as he too caught the double meaning of the words, then sarcastically bowed.
"Of course. I would not want to interrupt your work, o Marcus Groothart. Please...continue on at your leisure."
A small storm of wind whipped up and Marcus had to cover his eyes to prevent sand from scarring them. When it was gone, Adilah had vanished, leaving nothing behind. Grunting, Marcus turned to find all his men staring at him.
"WHAT! GET YOUR BRAIN DEAD HEADS IN GEAR, WE HAVE SOME DWARVES TO KILL!"
The soldiers grinned at that statement, then spurred their horses on to ride up the road. Marcus remounted and began to gallop off, the thought of blood violence appeasing after his meeting with Adilah.

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 3: The First Move
Part 1: A road going north of Khan-holm. Naois Luis walks slowly, carrying a large rucksack filled with supplies. Snow is falling on the surrounding hills, small red flowers drops of blood in the white lanscape. Pulling his sheepskin closer around him, the Earthspawn shivers and walks a little faster.

"Look out below!"
Startled, Naois looked up to behold a large, flaming mass bearing down on him. Uttering a short bark of shock, he leaped out of the way and landed in a snowbank. A great emplosion rocked the air, and Naois felt intense heat melting the snow around him. After a moment he regained his footing, and ran to where the thing had crashed, which upon examining turned out to be a large hot air balloon.
"Hellooooo!? Anyone help me?"
Naois ran to the spot where the voice had come from. Looking down, he saw a door, smashed in by the impact of the crash. Naois gripped the door with both hands and heaved, pulling the door off of its hinges with a screech of tortured metal.
"Oh thank you....I hate it so when the door gets stuck."
Naois stepped back as a young, blond man jumped out of the ruined airship. Grinning like mad, he grasped Naois' hand and shook it warmly.
"Jonathon Griffon, at your service. And you are, my good Earthspawn friend?"
Momentarily taken aback by the earnest young man wearing crystal goggles, Naois had to struggle to find his voice for a second.
"Uhhh....Naois Luis.....out of curiosity....what the nether just happened?"
Jonathon grinned boyishly, then began to scramble on the airship, looking for something.
"Oh, sorry. I think I ran into a phoenix back there. Big boom, set the hydrogen supply on fire. Just BOOM, then CRASH, then AHHHH! Oh my, I'm just babbling like a lunatic, aren't I? That can happen. I'm usually very humble. It's just, I get so excited on these flights, and you know.."
Naois sighed at Jonathon as he babbled on about flight patterns, exploding phoenix's, and something about his life as an engineer. Naois was about ready to punch him in the face, but then something the blond-haired man caught his attention.
"I really don't know how I ran into that phoenix. I was just glancing down when I saw a big party of elves riding towards some sort of abandoned fortress..."
"WHAT!"
Naois had Jonathon by his shirt, pulling him in close. Looking him in the eyes, Naois very slowly bared his teeth.
"What was it that you said that you saw?"
Jonathon looked frightened for the first time, then swallowed and pointed with his finger.
"That way. About 25 kilometers, I should think. Kind of hard to tell, I was fall-"
"Never mind that. Forget your stuff, you're coming with me."
Naois hoisted the hapless engineer over his shoulder and began to run to the area he had pointed to.

Part 2: The Abandoned dwarven fortress of Creu. Striding through the deep drifts of snow, four dwarven warriors shield their brows as they gaze upon the crumbling grey walls. Sinking further into their cloaks, they continue to trudge forward. One of them stops on a ledge a few steps ahead of the others, gazing into the heart of the afternoon sky.

"Looks like a storm."
Seth walked up to where Hrothgar was standing, and looked up into the sky himself. Dark clouds thundered on the horizon, ominous in the late day.
"Aye. Lets get to the fortress and get Lars' bloody book before the snow starts to come down."
Hrothgar grunted, then signalled for them to speed up the pace. Baasa and Krimil nodded, and the warriors ran down the slope to within shouting distance of Creu. Gazing at it's ruined walls, they jogged along until reaching the main gate. Peeking inside, Krimil motioned the other dwarves to follow him in.
"Alright. The Domia Firia is supposed to be somewhere in the catacombs. The entrance is in the west of the fortress, beneath a statue of High King Steel...or thats what Lars told me."
Bassa grunted, then hefted his mace and started to walk in the generl direction Krimil had mentioned.
"Will then, lets no' waste anae time. We have a book ta grab."
The others nodded, then walked after him. The courtyard was littered with broken pieces of masonry and what looked like dead bodies. Strolling up to one, Hrothgar saw a frozen corpse of a dwarf who had been burned alive, his face twisted in agony. Scowling, he shoved the corpse with his boot out from under a ledge and continued to walk on.
"What do you think happened here?" Krimil asked.
"I know not. Lars was not very sparing on the details. From rumors I've heard, this used to be a fortress of the Nothern Dwarves. In the Second Aelian war, the Drow stormed the walls and eventually broke inside.....what comes after that is up to the question. Some say a dragon came at that moment and torched the whole fortress, leaving none alive. All anyone knows is that when the scouts came here several days after the attack every stone was seared black from fire and not a living soul was here."
Hrothgar stopped talking as they came up to a small gate with a broken statue of Steel astride the top.
"This is the place."
Seth and the others nodded, the proceeded inside. If possible, the interior was even colder than outside. Icicles hung from the ceiling, and the dwarves could feel their breath freezing. Walking forward, they came upon a split in the path.
"Which way? Right or left?"
"Right."
The other three dwarves turned to look at Bassa. His face was unreadable, turned towards the wall. Ancient runes adorned it, circling around a dragons head.
"What are these? I cannot read them."
"No, ye can't. They be North'n dwarf runes....not many alive today who know them. We go right."
The others nodded, then trudged forward. Whenever there was a split, Bassa would read the walls and guide them on the right path. At last they reached an old wooden door covered with frost.
"Ia think this be it."
Hrothgar put his axe in the door and heaved. The lockbroke, and he forced his way through.
Inside, there was no frost at all. The temperature raised substantially,a blast of hot air coming out of the room. Coughing, the four dwarves looked inside. The chamber was lined with stone columns, with obsidian adorning their surfaces. In the middle of the room, a black pedastal of solid obsidian inlaid with gold supported a great, red tome.
"Well....that looks like the book all right."
Krimil walked forward to retrieve the book. Touching it, he uttered a short exclamation at the heat, then wrapped his hand in his cloak and picked it up.
"I believe that belongs to me."
The four dwarves turned. Standing in the doorway was a tall man in robes of red, surrounded by a group of black-armored elves. He smiled, and drew his sword out.
"How nice of you to get me a present. Maybe I'll let one of you live after all."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 3: The First Move
Part 3: A noblemans house in Ruthern. It is nearly night, clouds hang thick in the air. A lone sentry walks down the road, passing by a few late night travellers. Nodding to them, he continues on, not noticing two men stealthily slip past him, jumping over the rear gate into the courtyard of the house. Crouching, the two men slide silently to the backdoor, one of them removing a lockpick.

"Ok, Nubert the Pale should be getting ready for sleep. His butler is out at the Bannered Mare, and the maid stays in the house next door. Nonetheless, try to be quiet Corvus."
Corvus grinned, then began to manuever the lockpick around in the lock. After a few clicks, the door swung open, and the two burglars stole inside. Walking forward, Corvus noticed a large silver pot on a table in front of him, which he proceeded to tuck into the folds of his cloak.
"Pst! Corvus! Put it back, we're just here for information!"
Grudgingly, the card-player put the pot back, then the two of them slipped upstairs. At the top, there was a door to the left that had light seeping under it, and the sound of humming came from under it. Nodding, Basil cracked the door open, seeing Nubert reading a book by the fireplace. Basil inched the door open until both he and Corvus crept through, making not a sound. They stole around to the back of Nuberts chair, then Corvus removed a knife from his pocket and slid it under Nuberts chin.
"OO-"
"Unless you want to be sucking blood off the floor, I would advise you not to scream."
Nubert shut his mouth tightly, then gazed up at his attackers.
"Who are you?"
Basil smiled predatorily, then stepped closer.
"Who we are is none of your concern. What we want, is. A man visited you a little while ago by the name of Gratifi. What did he want?"
"Well...well, ah, he wanted my opinion on some economic matters, investments and so on-"
"Don't lie to us, or we'll leave your headless body for the crows to find. Now, I'm going to ask again...What did Gratifi want?"
Nubert the Pale looked even more pale than normal. He swallowed, then licked his lips, the look of defeat in his eyes.
"A book. A book known as the Domia Oceana. Some years ago, a mermaid I was friends with told me about it afer I saved his life...not many alive today know the location. Very few knew that I knew where it was...only one person actually. Then that man came. At first I was reluctant to give him the location...but he had friends in high places..."
"What kind of friends? Do they have anything to do with this?"
Corvus brought out the ring for Nubert to see. Staring cross eyed at it, Nubert's face drifted into a sardonic grin.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing. It seems Adilah has a cruel way of repaying old friends. I should have known Gratifi was working for him. Pity...I always wished he would have forgotten the Four Books."
Corvus looked at Basil, whose face was twisted into a dark grin.
"Indeed. Now...where is the Domia Oceana?"
Nubert looked at Basil, his eyes sad.
"I see you have heard of the Four Books....quite a bit. You also know of Adilah, yes? Yes...I am right. You have no wish to see him obtain them. Very well. I will tell you where the Book of the Ocean is, on one condition. Prevent Adilah from having it...with the Four in his hands, his madness would engulf the world. Can you do this?"
Basil nodded hesitantly, then Nubert took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Uflar Island, in Red South Sea. There is a cave guarded by merfolk there. Tell them that you request an audience with Queen Nimue."
Basil nodded to Corvus, who removed his knife from Nuberts neck. Corvus tipped his hat to Nubert, then both of them vaulted out of the window, landing with a crouch on the street. Nubert was left in his room, dark thoughts on his mind.

Part 4: The fortress of Creu. Four dwarven warriors are surrounded by a band of elves. All have their weapons drawn, and the dwarves are trapped in the room that held the Domia Firia. Marcus Groothart stands, smiling, ultimately assured of victory.

"Now, if you will...Give me the book."
Seth glanced at Krimil, whose hand gripped tighter around the slightly smoking package that contained the book. Hrothgar had his axe held in his hands, and Bassa was twirling his mace around, face clouded in anger.
"And why should we?"
"Isn't it obvious? Because if you don't, I'll kill you all. On the other hand, if you let me have it...well, you'll still die, but you'll feel better about having given me the book."
Bassa spat on the ground, then took a threatening step forward.
"Ia got anuther idea. 'ow bout Ia kill all of ye, and we walk out a here alive."
Marcus laughed, then smiled wickedly. He drew a black sword with his right hand and a handful of fire with his left.
"Oh my...I don't think that's going to happen."
Chuckling, Marcus pointed his hand at Bassa and opened it, releasing a jet of flame. Bassa was engulfed, and a wave of blistering heat rolled over the other dwarves.
"KILL HIM!"
Hrothgar roared as he dove under the stream of fire. Rolling, he jumped to his feet and sliced Marcus' hand off, then proceeded to cut off the head of the elf next to him. Marcus howled in pain, and the jet of fire stopped. Seth and Krimil raised their weapons and ran forward shouting, and Bassa emerged from the fire stream, his face scorched.
"Fight! Kill the dwarves!"
Seth waded into the brawl. He slashed an elf across the chest, knocking him down and ripping his armor. He wheeled and kicked another elf in the kneecap, causing a crack to echo throughout the catacombs. Hrothgar used the point of his axe to stab an elf in his unarmored armpit, then kicked him in the chest. All around the dwarves, more elves swarmed forward, trying to kill them. Krimil drew out a skinning knife, and blocked a blow from one of the elves. He blocked another one, caught the elf's sword on his hilt and twisted. The sword flew away, and Krimil stabbed the elf in the eye. In all of this action, Marcus was tackled by Bassa, his eyes full of madness.
"Burn me, will ye? Let me show ye how hot Ia can be!"
Bassa slammed his mace down, barely missing Marcus' head as he rolled out of the way. Marcus jumped up and slashed at Bassa with his sword. Bassa caught the blow on the handle of his mace, then struck Marcus with the metal ball at the end. Marcus grunted, then shoved Bassa away, knocking him over. Bassa blocked blow after blow that Marcus tried to land, then kicked the legs out from under him. Marcus fell to the ground, and Bassa jumped on top of him. He raised his mace up and prepared to strike....then Marcus drew a knife out lightning fast and stabbed it into Bassa's heart. The warrior from the north gasped, then slowly fell to the ground.
"Bassa! Bassa!"
Seth saw Bassa fall, and tried to run over to his side. To his left, Krimil was busy fighting an elf, when another snuck up behind him and broke his neck. Krimil fell to the floor, and the elf grabbed the book. Marcus rose from the floor, his one remaining hand spitting fire, his face twisted with hate and pain.
"Seth! Get out! Get out now!"
Hrothgar grabbed Seth's cloak and pulled him along. Together, the two of them ran down the corridors of the catacombs, pushing aside any elves who got in their way. Running out of the doors, they quickly melted into the blizzard that was raging outside. They ran until their breath came out in ragged gasps, then collapsed beneath an ice shelf. Seth just lay there for a while, catching his breath, then sat up and bured his head in his arms. It was hard to comprehend. Two of the greatest fighters he had ever known, killed. Beside him, he heard Hrothgar sit up, then suddenly groan deeply.
"What is it?"
"Unhhh....the bloody elves got me."
Hrothgar rolled up his shirt to expose a jagged slash along his ribcage. It oozed dark blood, and the skin around it was raw. Seth came over to him and bound up to wound as best he could, then helped Hrothgar up.
"Come on. We need to get you home."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 4: On the Road
Part 1: A small wood far west of Arcones tower. A road winds through the trees, a lone rider on the road. He rides low, his face hidden by his hood. Looking up, he see's that he has arrived at his destination. A half burned bungalow stands before him. Only the stone skeleton remains, and the half melted windows. The place speaks of sorrow times past.

"So...you have decided to come."
Arcone Saeradan closed his eyes slightly, his hands gripping the reins of the horse tighter.
"Yes Uncle. I have come."
Adilah Highelven walked around from behind Arcone's horse, grinning brightly. He was dressed in russet robes, lined with crimson, and upon his brow was a golden circlet. Arcone jumped off of his horse and walked up to Adilah, lips tight.
"Were you expecting me Uncle?"
"I see all, Nephew. I have great powers...far more than when you last saw me. Remember the good times we used to have?"
Arcone nodded silently. Twenty years ago, Arcone and Adilah had been the best of friends. The uncle and nephew were the two most powerful mages in the Highelven family. They did great things together...rescuing Lamias from a band of trolls, storming the hold of a necromancer, and curing old man Radagast of his disease. It did not last. Adrian, Arcone's father, was killed in battle. Adilah had always looked up to his older brother, and fell into a dark mood. Things just became worse when Adilah was attacked by a Hooded Spider while riding home. The venom infected both body and mind, though the healers tried their best. Adilah went into a killing rage when they could not cure him, slaughtering every member of the Highelven family. Only Arcone was able to stand against him. Protecting his brother Lamias, he defeated Adilah in battle. Broken, Adilah fly away, leaving Arcone with his brother and their dead family. Arcone set fire to the house, picked up Lamias, and rode away....a changed elf.
"I do remember. I also remember how you killed everyone because you thought the healers had poisoned you. I remember that day very well....the day your madness destroyed us all."
Adilah's face twisted into a mask of hatred. His breathing grew ragged, eyes cold.
"Do you? Do you really? I wasn't mad that day...that was the day my eyes became open, and I could see the world for what it really was. My own family tried to kill me! I looked upon them in that instant, and I knew what I had to do. They deserved death, and I gave it to them with the utmost pleasure. They were cowards, begging for their lives...not worthy of life."
Arcone was shaking, his fist clenched tightly, purple light streaming out of it. He ground his teeth to suppress his anger as Adilah began to speak again.
"But all that is behind us, right? You came here to join me? I knew you would Arcone. After all, we are-"
Arcone's hand snapped forward, his palm bright. A blazing rune inscribed itself in the air, and Adilah was captured in purple bonds. Arcone motioned again, and Adilah slid closer, facing Arcone completely.
"I didn't come here to join you. I came here to find out what the nether you are up to. I'm not in the mood for your little games Uncle...I loved you once...not anymore. So, lets start talking."
Adilah began to smile, then he laughed mockingly, like a man laughing at a child. His eyes began to glow, and Arcone felt the ground swallow his feet. His concentration failed, and Adilah dropped to the ground. He raised his hands, and three rock golems formed from the bare soil, surrounding Arcone. He cast out more rune spells, but for each golem he destroyed, another took its place. All the while Arcone was sinking into the earth. Soon, nothing remained on the surface but his head. He found it difficult to breath, the rocks digging into his ribcage. Adilah walked up slowly, smiling condesendingly at Arcone.
"I see now. You are a traitor as well. Pity...I always liked you Arcone. I was going to show you true power, but you have scorned me. Did you actually think you could defeat me? I hold one of the books, and a second one is on its way here. I even know the location of the third one as well. Poor child....you just can't win."
Adilah laughed again, then motioned with his hand, releasing Arcone from the earth.
"And now, Nephew...you will die."

Part 2: The Fortress of Creu. Outside stands Naois and Johnathon. Below them, they watch two dwarves run away from a group of black-armored elves, who then disappear into the storm that is raging. Naois chews his lip anxiously, then turns back to Johnathon

"Chances are that one of them has the book."
"Hmm...From what you've told me, the chances are good, yes."
Naois just stands there, his eyes seeking out something in the landscape.
"This is the dwarven kingdom, so dwarves here make sense. The elves shouldn't be here at all....but that doesn't matter. We don't know which one of them has the book, and we couldn't take them on anyways."
Johnathon nodded, then perked up a little and removed a journal from his pack. Naois continued to look depressed, huddling in his sheepskin.
"Naois?"
"Hmmm?"
"I think I might know where another one of the books is held."
Naois looked up suddenly, then leaped over to Johnathon's side.
"WHAT!?"
"Oi, not so loud, ok?"
"Oh....sorry."
Johnathon flipped through the journal, scanning the pages vigorously.
"Actually, I don't know where it is held, but I DO know a man who knows where it is. Or rather, a whole monastary of men."
Johnathon stopped flipping, stopping on a picture of a temple complex on top of a mountain.
"Here it is. In the far east of the continent, there is a monastary called Dhumai. The monks that live there have great knowledge of the wind spirits. I've been there once of twice on my airship...nice people. Bit odd though. Wear yellow robes and have shaved heads..."
Naois nodded impatiently as he listened, then motioned for Johnathon to continue.
"Anyways....thebook that you were trying to get was the Domia Firia, right? The monks at the monastary...well, rumored anyways....they know the location of the book of the wind, or the Domia Aera. Or at least thats what the naked, old, drunk guy told me when I was at the monastary."
Naois nodded, then picked up his pack.
"Alright then. Pick your bag up, we're going to visit that old drunken naked guy."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 4: On the Road
Part 3: An inn in the middle of Nho-Were. Two riders approach slowly, their horses tired and dirty. Stopping, they dismount and walk stiffly into the inn. Smoke fills their noses as they slowly walk to the counter, ordering an ale for each of them.

"So? What do you think?"
Corvus shrugged, then sat down and sighed. He scratched at a bug bite on his neck, then took a drink of ale.
"Think? Too tired. I need ale to think."
Basil rolled his eyes. He lifted his own ale and took a drink, grimacing at the crude flavor.
"Ugh....anyways. What do you think about this whole Four Books thing? I'm under the impression you don't like the feeling of this mission."
"Really!? What the nether would give you that impression, huh? The fact we're going halfway around the continent to speak to a bloodthirsty mermaid queen all because Gratifi scared some nobleman? Or is it the fact that a half-crazed elf is trying to kill us along the way and conquer the world....either of those ring any bells in that head of yours?"
Basil sighed.
"Corvus, I know it's been difficult these past few days-"
Corvus laughed, then took a heavy swig from his cup.
"-but we don't exactly have a choice in the matter. I did some research on the Four books while I was in Ruthern. This is an artifact of terrible power, of awesome and total destruction. I mean, think-"
Corvus shushed Basil, then looked at him straight on.
"Did you say artifact? I thought we were talking about artifacts here?"
Basil stops talking, his mouth gone suddenly dry. Corvus snorts, then rises threatheningly towards him.
"I sense you are keeping a very important piece of information from me Basil. Why not spill it, for old times sake?"
Basil swallows, his eyes nervous.
"Ok...I may not have told you everything...the books are not the power here....they are the keys."
"The keys to what?"
Basil was about to speak, but he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.
"DOWN! GET DOWN CORVUS!"
Corvus dived to the ground, and an arrow slammed into the wall where his head had been. Basil spotted the assassin running out of the door and gave chase. He burst out into the open, looking around, spying the assassin. Basil summoned a fistful of fire, then blasted it towards the killer. He screamed and fell into a smoking heap.
"What in the name of Skulls was that?"
Basil looked up to see Corvus run out of the inn, then looked back down to where the dead assassin lay.
"A message from Gratifi, I think."
Corvus scowled, then glanced around the dark hills to see if there were any more hidden murderers.
"We're not safe here. Come on...lets mount up."
Basil nodded, and the two walked to their horses, eager to go.

Part 4: The lands around Khan-holm. Two dwarves walk up the path to the main gate, their breath frosty. One dwarf is leaning on the other dwarf, obviously wounded. A trail of small, red droplets trail them, staining the pure snow. They near the walls, and the shorter dwarf raises his hand.

"Hail the gate! Open up, tis Seth and Hrothgar!"
The gate guards rush to open the great doors, and Seth walks inside with Hrothgar. A band of inquisitive dwarves come to ask questions, but Seth waves all away but a healer and his apprentice.
"You, healer. Get the Captain up to the infirmary. Treat him well and I'll be back within the week to pay your fee."
The healer nods, then Seth runs off. Through twisting tunnels he runs, over minecart tracks and around other dwarves. Finally, he reaches the doors to Lars' throne room. Not pausing for formality, he kicks them open with his foot and marches in, his face grim.
"Gorlogs beard, what do you think you're doing?"
Lars' face is red with anger at the unannounced intrusion.
"Get out! Guards, haul this dwarf off!"
Seth stops before the throne, grinding his teeth. He growls, then attempts a short bow.
"King Lars. I have returned from the mission you sent me on to find the Domia Firia."
Lars' disposition changes completely, and he begins to smile.
"Oh yes, very good. Did you bring it with you?"
"No."
Lars face turns red again, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"WHAT! You dare to barge into my throne room without something to justify it, you insolent little-"
"BASSA VOLDENHELM AND KRIMIL THORINSSON ARE DEAD! Because of a mission you sent them on, my lord....Hrothgar Sharpick is in the infirmary, and I escaped death by the nearest margin twice today! And you think to insult me? Pull your wits together, dwarf, and concentrate on something other than your cursed book."
Lars sinks back into his seat, withered a bit by Seth's assault. He licks his lips, then signals to a guard.
"You, go down to the priests quarters. We need a service for two dwarves, ready by tomorrow."
"Yes Milord."
Seth just stands there smoldering, then turns his back. He waits one moment before leaving.
"Remember your duty, my king. Honor those who died today in your service....they deserve it more than you know."
As he walked out the door, Seth thought he could hear Lars talking to himself, and cocked an hear towars him.
"Hmph. At least Bassa is gone. One good thing to come out of this. Did a better job than those assassins."
Seth ground his teeth in fury upon hearing, then ran down the corridors of the mountain. Up to the infirmary he ran, taking the steps two at a time. The healers parted before him like water, until he reached Hrothgars bed, where the Captain of the Guard was sitting, drinking some soup.
"I'm going after the elves."
Hrothgar choked, then set down his soup bowl and wiped his mouth with his beard.
"Are you bloody mad? Bassa and Krimil are dead because we went up against them. If you go after them, you'll be killed too. Listen, I'll speak to Lars about mobilizing the army, and then-"
"Lars won't do anything. He's a yellow bellied coward. He was trying to kill Bassa for defying him...I heard him say so myself. Now that Bassa is out fo the way, Lars will be perfectly content to sit on his throne for the forseeable future. I don't know about you, but I want to go avenge my fallen kin."
Hrothgar frowned, then looked down at his bandaged wound. Grunting, he looked up again with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I'll get my things."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 5: Visiting some Friends
Part 1: The grand market of Kied. Vendors shout in the streets, selling their wares to anyone who will buy and to some who won't. Children run through the mob, laughing at the people around them. And in the middle of all this chaos, Naois Luis stands with Jonathon by his side, the crowd parting around him.

"Oh look, nightshade herbs! I've been meaning to get those for my alchemy lab-"
"Not now Naois! Come on, I didn't bring you for some stupid herb...hey look, cogs and flybars for 20 gold!"
"Now look whose getting distracted...stupid herb indeed."
Jonathon nodded in embaressment, then grabbed Naois by the hand.
"Let's go, if we stay here we'll never get out with our purses heavy as they are."
Jonathon guided Naois out of the chaotic market squares in a side alley, ducking his head under some linen cloth hung out to dry. Here, there were few people, and most looked unsavory. They cast covetous glances at the two travelers, but were wary of Naois's size. Jonathon ignored them and forged on ahead, stopping at a green door built into one fo the buildings. He knocked an stepped back as the door slowly opened. Without an ounce of hesitation, he walked inside and vanished from sight. Naois hesitated for a moment, then followed. Inside, the walls were covered in drawings of complex machines, and the floors were strewn with cobwebs and bolts. Naois gingerly walked down the hall, ending up in a large, circular room with even more drawings on the walls, and a number of tables with metal piled high upon them.
"Over here Naois!"
Jonathon was sorting through a chest, grabbing various items as Naois walked up.
"What is this place?"
"Oh, this? Tis my workshop....well, former one anyways. I was kicked out of here after I blew up the house next door."
"Ok, why are we here?"
Jonathon continued to rummage, desperately searching inside the chest.
"Well...as you know the monastary is on a mountain. What I didn't tell you that it's nearly impossible to get to from the ground...therefore we need an airship. And...Aha!"
Jonathon held up a key triumphantly.
"Good, the key to my old hanger...I think I still have a vintage airship lying around in there. You get why we came now?"
Naois nodded hesitantly, gulping a bit.
"Yes, I do....would now be a bad time to tell you I'm deathly afriad of heights?"

Part 2: Night. It is raining, the water seaping down in whispering streams. The dark wall of a cliff looms above the black sea, thundering below. In the pale moonlight, Arcone is seen chained to the base of the cliff. He sags in his chains, shivering each time the waves crash into his body.

How did it come to this?
Arcone gritted his teeth as another wave hit his body, sending the days bruises into agony. the seawater had been working at him for a dozen hours, and his strength was nearly gone. Groaning, he tried to stretch his legs into a more comfortable position before a large wave rushed in and drenched him.
I will die here. Adilah made damn sure the cuffs would negate any magic I try to cast. The links are too strong to break, and soon animals are going to try to eat me. If I wait long enough, the waves will wear the chain away enough I can escape....but I don't have the luxury of time right now. Every moment I'm here, I risk freezing to death.
Arcone groaned again as his tortured body was hit by the next wave. Hanging his head, he began to mentally prepare himself for death.
"Hello?"
Arcone turned his head suddenly at the sound of the voice. A merman sat on the rock next to him, his blonde hair rippling down his shoulders.
"Do you need any help?"
Arcone coughed, struggling to find his voice.
"I...yes...the chain...please."
The merman smiled, then drew out a sea green sword. He sliced through the steel chain with ease, twirled his sword twice and sheathed it. Arcone rubbed his wrists painfully, then tried to walk. He collapsed from exauhstion, and the merman offered a helping hand.
"Come on, I need to get you to somewhere more hospitable than this."
Arcone took the offered hand, the merman throwing him onto his shoulder. With no apparent effort, the merman began to swim away from the cliff, being careful to keep Arcone above the water at all times.
"You....thank you. I don't even...know your name."
The merman chuckled as he rode a wave, his orange scales flashing in the moonlight.
"Sorry, I forgot we haven't been properly introduced. You can call me Itzza...Itzza Oceana."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 5: Visiting some Friends
Part 3: The fortress of Creu. Bloodstains, both ancient and newly made cover the stones, speaking of the terrible tradgedies taken place. The snow storm is over, and the sun's rays shine hopefully in the wan morning hours. Two dwarves squat down over a disturbed area of the snow, studying the tracks.

"What do ye think? I say it looks like about 50 of em turned back to the south, probably the main detachment of elves. But up here, it seems that mebbe a half dozen turned west...they were travellin' fast too, the prints are farther apart."
"Aye, seems to be tha' way. Which do we follow though?"
Hrothgar grunted in frustration while he itched at the bandage around his middle. He turned and hefted his axe, walking back to another part of the trail.
"Well...the ones who were travellin' slowly had no place in particular they wanted ta get to fast. The ones headin' west...they would be the ones who had the book, way I see it. Plus, there's a good chance that thrice-blasted human who killed Bassa is with the book."
Seth nodded, smiling wolfishly. He hefted his own axe, then punched Hrothgar in the shoulder.
"What'r we waitin' for then? We have some elves to kill, and I be dying to avenge my kin."
Hrothgar chuckled, and the two of them set off at a steady jog. Soon out of sight of Creu, they ran down a snowy embankment and leaped onto a drift. Laughing, the two continued to run along with the pure feeling of being free and dangerously ready for anything that came their way. It seemed that nothing could possibly stand in their way...for a few hours. About 20 miles out from Creu, Seth stopped suddenly and cocked his ear southwards. Hrothgar stopped too, confused.
"What is it?"
"I don't know....thought I heard somethin'."
As they stood there, a sound came...a distant howling, echoing over the hills. Hrothgar looked at Seth, the same thought on their lips.
"Wolves."
Another howling came, this one closer. Hrothgar pointed to an outcropping, signalling Seth to set up a defense there. They worked in silence, hoping to delay the wolves by just a few seconds if they could keep silent. Looking up after a few minutes, he saw a score of whitish gray shapes running swiftly towards them.
"Here they come."
Hrothgar turned around. He hefted his axe, making the sign of Korigon on his chest.
"Gorlogs beard, there's alot of em...lets hope we survive."
Seth nodded, and the first wolf jumped over their hastily constructed barrier of snow, it's eyes blazing with hunger.

Part 4: The Valley of Ghosts, a days travel from the coast of Red South Sea. A dense fog hangs over the valley, enveloping the land in a soundless blanket. Two riders move through the cloudy air, their horses tired after many days of long riding.

"Not a very cheery place, is it?"
Basil nodded in agreement, his horse a few feet to the right of Corvus. He glanced around the barren landscape, filled with tufts of lonely grass and gray rock.
"No. It isn't. Then again, it's not very suprising...this place has a bad reputation."
Corvus laughed scornfully, but Basil thought he could detect a hint of fear in his friend's voice.
"Oh, come on Basil...don't tell me you believe any of the wild stories they tell about this place.
"They're not stories....at least not all of them. Tis said that in a long age past, a great battle took place here between the dragons and the elves. Many fell on that day, and though the dragons won, the battle spelled the beginning of their end. One of the elves, when victory could not be attained, sacrificed his life to summon a Dremora in the world. The dragons fought it off but were severely weakened....and the remains of the Dremora are still here. Some say they have....effects on the dead that dwell in this place."
Corvus shivered a bit, pressing himself deeper into his coat.
"Ugh....I'm cold. Can we ride a bit faster?"
"What, and leave my home so soon?"
Corvus yelled and fell off of his horse as a man materialized before him. Tall and black skinned, the man had one red eye on his face. He flickered in and out of vision, as if not wholly part of this world. Basil reined in his horse as well, startled but not so much as Corvus.
"Who are you?"
The man turned to Basil, his one red eye pulsating hypnotically.
"The better question is, who are you? And why are you here? Not many dare to come here these days."
Corvus picked himself up off the ground, his face pale.
"Bad juju demon! Get away from me!"
The man sighed, then walked closer to Corvus...well, more like he floated about a foot off of the ground. He sighed deeply, seeming deeply unsatisfied.
"My good sir, I am not a demon. I am what you would call a spectre, ghost, or ghoul, escpecially if I'm not in a good mood."
Basil snorted, then spurred his horse closer to the ghost.
"I'm Basil, this is Corvus. We're riding through here to get to the Red South Sea."
The ghost turned, a perplexed smile on his face.
"The Red South Sea? No one goes there, not unless you want to be eaten by merpeople. What would prompt such a journey?"
"Oi, you're very inquisitive for a ghost....and you still haven't told us your name....bad juju spectre."
The ghost smiled broadly, then flickered out of sight. He reappeared next to Corvus's head, causing him to hastily jump away.
"You can call me Bane....I died here 600 years ago. Any more cute questions?"
"What can you tell us about the Four books?"
Bane turned to Basil, his eyes sad.
"Ah.....I see now why you travel to Red South Sea. Yes....you know some, but not the whole story, yes?"
"I know enough."
Bane smiled, floating up near Basil.
"Tell you what. I've gotten bored sitting around in the Valley of late. If you take me with you, I'll tell you everything you need to know about the Four books."
Basil glanced down at Corvus, who was avidly shaking his head no.
"Deal."

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 6: A lull in the storm
Part 1: High over the Plains of Gyrda. A number of whispy clouds hangs on the horizon, white against the blue of the lazy afternoon sky. A bright red airship glides through the air ponderously, heading east. At the helm, Jonathon mans the wheel, smiling with childish glee.

"Ah...nothing quite like it, is there? The wind in your hair, the land below you, the bugs in your teeth...well, maybe not that last bit. But nonetheless, it's all very exiting...when I was young, I used to dream about flying airships. Ironic I do it now for a living, huh Naois...Naois? Where are you?"
Naois stumbled out onto the deck, his skin even greener than normal. He staggered, grabbing the rail, and made a retching sound over the side.
"Ugh...here."
Jonathon chuckled merrily, then bounded down to Naois.
"Oh my, seems we have a sick passenger on board. Do you need a bag? Or maybe a nice, big turkey stuffed with apples and spiced cabbage-"
Naois grabbed Jonathon's shirt, growling into his ear.
"I may be bloody weak, but unless you want to take a head dive out of the ship I'd suggest you be quiet."
"Oh, all right. I was just joking."
Naois let Jonathon down, who proceeded to walk back to the wheel. Halfway there, he turned his head slightly.
"Oh, and did I mention the cream of liver I have? It's very delicious."
"YOU'RE GOING OVER THE RAILING, INSOLENT LAD!"
Jonathon laughed in wicked joy as Naois chased him around the ship, until he collapsed from exaughstion.
"Ok, ok, enough. Truce."
Naois nodded, then sat down himself. A few moments later, he ran to the side again. Jonathon chuckled again, his eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun.
"Ah...twill be a long journey yet, Naois."

Part 2: The southern crags. The day is foggy, and the lighthouse on the tallest cliff is nearly invisible. Outside the white walls of the lighthouse, a man waits next to the lighthouse, his beard covered in dew. Bending low, he picks up a stick from the ground and starts to shear it apart with his knife.

"Not bored, I hope?"
Gratifi snarls, whirling around. Seeing the other person, he closes his mouth abruptly, suprise written across his features.
"Adilah...how the nether do you do that?"
"I have my ways."
Gratifi snorted, sheathing his knife. He nestles closer into his coat, partly from the cold and partly from his wariness of Adilah.
"Course you do....you always have to have your bloody secrets. I don't know nuthin'...just do what you tell me to do."
"That's right, you do what I tell you. I recall I told you a few days ago to kill those two old friends of yours who you so foolishly tried to hire. How did that turn out?"
"They're dead. I hired some people to do it."
Adilahs face twisted into a demented smile, stretching farther than his mouth seemed capable of stretching.
"Oh really. How nice to hear about that. And I suppose that if I told you that they were alive, on their way to Red South Sea right now with a head start on yo, would you believe me?"
"I-"
Adilah pounced, his fingers like claws. He grabbed Gratifi by the throat, shoving him against the wall. In his right hand, a blue blade forms of crackling energy, which Adilah points at Gratifi's chest.
"You worthless piece of scum! You actually thought you could betray me? You're in league with them, yes?"
"No, Adilah, I'm-"
"Oh yes, I see it quite clearly. You think to deny me my prize....to take what is mine. Let me reveal something to you...it's all mine. I see all, know all...I am god, don't you see? And once I have reclaimed my birthright, the Four Books, all the wold will bow down and worship me."
Gratifi backed away at the mad light shining from Adilahs eyes. He turned away, starting to run.
"But alas....I am not a kind god. I can allow no disobeyers of my laws. Pity...he was a good asset."
A shaft of energy pierced Gratifi's chest, and he fell gasping for breath. Adilah strolled up, smiling widely.
"I believe my need for your services is at an end. I'll go and kill the meddlesome duo myself...and as for you....well, thank you for everything."
Gratifi gurgled one last time before a sparking blade separated his head from his shoulders, Adilah laughing maniacilly before flying away, heading towards Red South Sea.

 

[Trouble Kelp]

Chapter 6: A Lull in the Storm
Part 1: The shore of Red South Sea. Waves crash on the jagged rocks below, spraying white over the blue expanse of the sea. In the distance, an island is shrouded in fog, mysterious and distant. Six eyes watch from atop a sand dune, contemplating their next move.

"I wonder how we get there."
Basil nods in agreement with Corvus before turning around. He removes a map from his saddlebags, spreading it across the ground. Both Bane and Corvus lean in for a closer look, curious about what Basil is looking at.
"According to this map, there's a partial landbridge that forms at low tide...right here, on the western part of the shoreline. Judging by our position...meh, I'd say we have about two hours to get there and cross before the water coveres it again."
Bane nods in agreement, floating off towards the general area Basil mentioned.
"Lets hurry up. My cold dead bones don't like it out here in the sun....too hot."
Corvus mutters something unintelligible and likely derogatory towards ghosts before following Bane. Basil smiles briefly, then packs up the map and mounts his horse.
"Wonder if they'll kill each other before the day is done. Actually, strike that....one of them is already dead."
"Oh Basil, please don't forget that I'm a ghost, not limited by a human sense of hearing. If I wanted to kill Corvus, he'd be dead already."
"Oi, watch what you're saying, bonebag! I'd take you on any day."
The three continue to joke around during the two hour march to the landbridge. Once they arrive, Corvus halts and makes a sound of amazement.
"Woah...don't see that every day."
As the water drains away, the massive body of a sea serpent is seen to stand between the island and the adventurers. It is colored bright blue, with the occasional green sparkle coming off it's scales if the light hits right. Flies feast on the carcass, forming a small cloud in the air. Basil grimaces, then begins to puch his horse forwards.
"Come on. We have to get around that thing."
Bane and Corvus come behind, following cautiously. As Basil nears the dead serpent, he notices there is a bulge around the monster's midsection where a few purplish spikes poke out.
"Aha, I see now. The serpent was killed by eating a giant urchin...not a very smart move. Quite painful as well...I wonder why he did that?"
"Oh, I know not. The only thing I know is that your end will be far more painful than this creatures."
The three adventurers turn to see Adilah standing waist deep in the water, massive fireballs held in each of his hands.
"It is so nice to finally meet you. Gratifi has told me about your abilities, your strengths. One does not know if they could possibly believe such tales. In the pusuit of truth, I will test them myself. If they happen to be lies...well, you can always argue over that when you meet Gratifi in the Underworld."

Part 2: Two dozen leagues from the Fortress of Creu. A pack of wolves lies on the ground, slaughtered. A single dwarf sits on an icy rock, bandaging a bite wound, as another approaches wearily.

"We have the worst of luck...at this rate, we'll never catch up with that kin murderer."
"Don't despair Seth, it not be over yet. Look on the bright side....we just defeated a pack of wolves."
Seth grunts, then hisses as he pulls the bandage on his arm tighter. Hrothgar winces sympathetically, patting his own war wound.
"Come on lad...up on your feet."
"Aye...just give me a moment....catch me breath."
"Aie, do you two need a ride?"
Hrothgar and Seth look up, suprised at the interruption. Driving a ramshackle cart is a very old man, totally naked except for his overly long beard that flows down the length of his body. Both Hrothgar and Seth recoil a bit in mild horror before recovering, glancing at each other.
"Uhhhh.....who are you?"
The old man laughs, jumping spryly out of the cart. The dwarves have difficulty averting their glances while the beard is swept aside momentarily, revealing more than they want to see.
"You can call me Robin, lads. Wandering Robin for long, or just Robin for short. You know, someday you'll have to visit my balls."
"Uhhhh."
"Come on then boys, no time to waste. We have to get to the Aera Monastary. That's where you're going, yes? That's also where the man who killed Bassa and Krimil is going...lets go!"
Seth and Hrothgar stare at each other as they are shepparded onto the cart, struggling for words. Finally, Hrothgar manages to gasp something out.
"How in Gorlogs name do you know all of this?"
"Frankly, I don't know. Probably has something to do with the fact I'm a demigod. Now, lets get done with this thing so you can TAKE ME TO THE PUB!"
The cart jolts off, Robin laughing uproarously as the wind rushes between his bare legs.