Typo:
The world from above was such a myriad patchwork of silvered darkness this night, without pattern, without reason, and Erelan was tired unto death with the long flight and longer span without any real purpose. Her moonlight-drenched wings pumped in a thoughtless one-two rhythm, with a force born of habit, and only the occasional, canvas-like snap of the wind catching in her wings and the shadowy outline of her form against the mackerel sky and moonbeams betrayed her presence at all.

In full sunlight, she was a lovely greeny-teal (a very flattering and feminine color, her mother always preened), with great sails the color of the summer sea beside her home aeryie. Her eyes were a warm hazel, under smoothly arching eye-ridges and set beneath a crest of deep, deep blue that contrasted the lighter blue of her wing-tipped ears. Her scales were as small and delicate as an aristocrat's and all the lines of her form were long and sinuous and gracefully muscled as a dragon could wish. In full sunlight, she had once been called a beauty, and young male drakes had had boasted and fought, and fallen over themselves for her favor, in that beautiful sunlight of home.

Tonight, she was the color of darkness. She was the color of char and dust and hope moved on.

The soft, worn leather of her carry-sack creaked quietly against the motion of her shoulders. There were spots where the contraption had worn away scales, spots where her crest was so crimped under the weight of the thing that she sometimes wondered if she would ever look more than a shabby, half-grown and homeless wanderer again. The wonderings were occasional - it was a rare moment these days when she could spare a thought from weariness to ponder her looks, not that there were any of her kind around to notice the difference. She sighed, and banked at an unhurried angle, scouting for any marginally comfortable place to spend the night. How she missed the warmth of sunny nests in the sand near her home caverns, the magic-kindled and magic-kept fires to heat the old stones of Sea Cliffs aerie. This was a cold world - cold and unfriendly to one young and headstrong dragon. There were times she longed to give up her self-imposed solitude and creep back to her kin and kind. If she was one bit less stubborn, she would have already started the long journey home, many times over.

(Gone home, aye), she thought sadly and with a trace of temper. (Flitted back to the aerie like a frightened bird at the first sign of storm, and tucked my tail between my legs and crouched demure as a hatchling. I'd've taken a mate by now, no doubt - and I'd be stuffing myself on sand-crabs and coryfish, waiting to lay my first clutch. Aye, what a life).

She snorted, wheeling down and down and down into a field of grain turned black with night. For a moment, as powerful hindlegs and talons caught the earth, she crouched nearly on all fours, snaking her head back and forth to be sure she woke no skittish farmers. Most had been more or less tolerant, as long as she was on her way before any livestock came out to feed, but a few had heard too many old tavern tales to miss an opportunity for glory. Pride or no pride, a good-sized dragon-hunting spear always sent her packing - and right quickly, too.

Nothing stirred. Even the wind was only the slightest breath over the tops of the wheat. She was well past the age that she could curl up in the shelter of tall wheat-stems, but it cushioned her enough to make a comfortable bed. Quickly sweeping a small circle of the grass down flat with her tail, she settled down, pulling loose the catches on her sack and removing a small, square of crystal from one of the inner pockets. She settled her breast against the trampled grain and curled her tail tightly up around her body as she held the crystal before her, staring into its depths. Somewhere deep within, it began to glow - a swirling nimbus not quite gray, not quite blue, not quite any color, but all. Silently, she coaxed images out of the nimbus: lines and landforms, maps that had no beginning and no end, but rippled with cool beauty inside the translucent stone. With another unspoken command, the lines began to extend, to weave upon themselves as she added the information of a day's travels to the memory-crystal's store. This, cold comfort, was her only real goal now - the goal of a scholar just beginning to wonder whether the ultimate achievement is worth the journey. Somehow, it seemed to fall shorter every day. The maps ceased their creative dance and shrank back to darkness as she put the crystal away, pulling out another, this time a flattened oval. As she looked into it, it too began to glow, though the dance was not silent this time. Soft strains of flute music floated from the center, captured from a shepherdess on a lonely steppe long ago, preserved in perfect detail for posterity that probably wouldn't care.

Erelan cared.

She curled a wing protectively over the crystal and her backpack and tucked her head beneath, lost in a world of dim light filtering blue through her translucent wing-membrane. Now the melody was the clink of bone and wood marimbas from a distant shore, now a warm baritone vocal from the hall of bards in a land long left behind.

(Someday), she thought. (I'll find the ones who'll share this with me. There must be someone else in this world that thinks as I do, that loves as I love. I can hope for that long after days of sunlight have gone). Lost in a world of music and shadow, she closed her eyes and slept a dreamless sleep.

Rainbow:
Princess Rainbow Faye shook out her hair under the storm clouds and grimaced as her friend commented sardonically :Look, you were the one who wanted to go NOW, I said wait, but you're the Heir...:

:Dee! I am not a weather-mage! I cannot tell what the weather will be at precisely midnight!:

:Should have asked me then!:

Rainbow shook her head, she was getting annoyed with her best friend Dee'rina Harnon, there couldn't be a more annoying Pegasus, let alone one that would stand up to her! She knew she was being snobby, but for Animi's sake, she had just been flown through a storm cloud, nearly gotten hit by lightning, and then Dee had landed in a huge mud puddle that meant she'd not only have to clean herself, but also groom the stupid thing...

:I caught that, Rain.: The silver, now muddy brown, Pegasus warned, bucking a little. :Don't try your luck!:

:Oh, shut up!: the Heir of Animi cried annoyedly, now she was getting annoyed...

They were on a mission to meet other people of the other countries surrounding Animi, and Rainbow had volunteered. Her mother had let her go somewhat reluctantly, but she had been out voted by the fact that the pegasi had let one of their own number travel with her.

Suddenly, out of the darkness loomed a dark shape, it was a building! Rainbow sighed, at least they'd get shelter, hopefully, some people have no respect for royalty...

:At last!: Dee sighed, echoing Rainbow's thoughts. Rainbow squinted, trying to make out the sign...

Sorchafyr:
Wearily eyeing the late afternoon sunlight shafting down through the leaves, Sand decided to make this rest stop a short one. As long as the sun was shining, she knew what time it was, and what season. All night looked the same time to her, but since she usually performed somewhere at night, there was no need to judge the time by nature. And on a cloudy day she was just lost.

At least she wasn't lost now. This path led to the next nearest spot to pick up some work. The man she spoke with hadn't been sure how far away the inn was, however. Sand thought she had better hurry to avoid still being on the path at night. Not that she didn't enjoy the night, but there were so many better things to be doing with it than trudging endlessly onward.

As she let herself settle into the rock she was using for a seat, Sand reflected how fortunate she was to have found such a nice resting place. You didn't often find a smooth, large rock with knobs and crevasses forming an almost-comfortable place to sit. And it was still warm with sunlight. She looked around her, hoping to pick up a new song. It was true that everything contained music, everything had a song, at least to her. When you understood something, you could find it's song. She smiled as she spotted a butterfly and spent awhile watching it. Sand was already familiar with butterflies in general, she just had to find the notes that made this one unique. She sang a series of notes, graceful, swirling, and short. She smiled, and then found herself turning it into a sigh. Now if she could just understand a person like that, then she would have a song!

Sand stood up and brushed nonexistent dirt off her clothes. It was time to continue on, darkness was not too far off. People, she decided as she strode down the path, just had too many notes.

Typo:
Erelan woke in startlement at the close-by sound of lowing and pulled her head from beneath her wing, trying to remember where she was. The morning sunlight was beginning to intensify, gilding the wheat and burning off the scant mist that hovered over the field. The blue-green dragon snapped her head up until her eyes were on a level with the waving tips of grain and looked about slowly and cautiously, like some great reptile peering up from the depths of a golden sea. There were cattle grazing on the grass field adjacent to the wheat, soft-eyed and somnolent -- the sight of them made her breath catch, for where there were cattle, there were always farmers nearby.

With good reason, she supposed. The smell of the meaty beasts scarcely three jumps away made her mouth water. She sank back into her not-quite-cover slowly, carefully packing up the rest of her scant belongings and securing the carry-sack between her wings as she clipped the straps across her chest. Crouching low in the well-trampled wheat, she began to slink off away from the livestock, telling her impatient stomach to wait. She paused to cast one glance back over her shoulder at last night's bed. Most of the time, she left the nearly perfect circle of flattened grain in a single leap, but this one would have an odd, appendage-like line leading away. Occasionally, she wondered what unsuspecting locals must think of the punched out circles in their fields. No doubt they had some creative theory as to their cause.

Under cover of the fast-disappearing mist, she launched herself into the sky, great wings beating upward until the ground below her disappeared in a haze of whitish-grey. She cast a glance to her left, reorienting herself by the peaks of distant mountains. There was little she could accomplish in the way of mapmaking until the fog cleared, but at least up here the sun caught her wings and back, warming her chilled body. Even for a dragon, night after night out under the dew could be less than comfortable, and Erelan, whose magical powers were so rudimentary that she couldn't summon a fire or heating spell without a talisman, was even less prepared. Farther ahead, she could just make out a line of darker storm clouds - the kind that could make flying either very exciting or quite nasty, depending on one's disposition. Listening to her wing knuckles crack at the first exercise of the morning, she gave a small sigh; somehow, she doubted that "exciting" would be one of the colorful phrases she chose for that experience.

(And then there's the little matter of food), she thought, catching a blessedly warm updraft and taking a moment to lazily rest her wings. (There's probably something in the hills that won't make too much of a fuss and doesn't belong to anyone), she thought, wheeling slowly toward the vague hints of forest green that showed in patches through the fog. (And if I'm lucky, there'll be a place I can wait out the storm-hopefully indoors and preferably in a friendly atmosphere). She knew how unlikely that was, but there had been a few in her wanderings that accepted most or all races with equal consideration. She supposed that associating with humans and other races was not really something a 'normal' dragon would do at least, not one from her family.

Uncle Aristide had been the one to put that notion in her head first: the idea that not all people approached dragons with the sole intent of making a wall hanging out of their heads. Her mother and father, of course, had found the thought ridiculous, but Uncle Aristide was no fool - that she knew well. He knew more about the world beyond the aerie than anyone else back home, and from the moment he had recognized the wanderlust in his young niece and had taken her (literally and figuratively) under his wing, she was destined to explore the great unknown.

(I wish you could have come with me, Uncle), she thought sadly. (I once thought you had told me all there was to know about adventuring...you never told me how lonely it could be). With a small and half-rueful draconic smile, she winged off the thermal and down into the wispy threads of mist, more world-weary than the hatchling she had been then, and more disillusioned, but still hopelessly in the thrall of discovering the unknown.

The storm clouds with their far-off flickers seeped closer as she descended, promising to dampen her spirits very soon. As she touched down on the slightly dusty earth and tucked her wings back to her sides, the first thing she noticed was that for a path in the deep of the forest, this one had had a bit of use. Curious, she crouched lower to the ground to examine the dust for prints or odd scents, then stood again and peered off into the distance. Apparently, something interesting was to be found at the end of that trail, and it took very little effort for Erelan to talk herself into exploring.

(Besides, curiosity killed the cat, not the dragon. If I run into trouble...well, I can always call it breakfast), she thought with a dry chuckle and a toothy smile.

Raven Darkblade:
An unusual pair sat in a shadowed corner of the tavern known as The Midnight Sun. One was small, a broadsword's width over five feet in height, dressed in soft midnight hunting leathers of supple doeskin. Her form was the toned, lithe, too-thin body of an acrobat, her skin milk-pale and her hair, drying in the comfortable warmth of the common room into an aureole of gleaming ringlets, was an unruly tumble of glossy black that might have reached her knees if it had not been bound into a severe braid. Her sword, its hilt and scabbard bound in light-absorbing black leather, hung in its baldric from the back of her chair, and her sapphire eyes narrowed sharply--as close as she would allow herself to come to a wince--as her partner carefully dabbed at the bloody scrapes on her knuckles. An angry bruise was just beginning to form over her left cheekbone.

Her partner, by contrast, was taller by nearly a foot, and bright gold to her night-black. Leanly muscular, he wore leathers styled like his partner's but in deep forest green. His face, chiseled and tanned by sun and wind, was framed by a mane of wavy hair the rich gold of early autumn sunlight held out of long emerald eyes by a green headband decorated with gold-bead runes and gold-barred feathers. Twin swords rode easily at his sides, their hilts worked in gold and silvery metal, with more runes running like water down the sheathes.

Over his shoulder peered a raven, unremarkable except in that it was a raven, large for its breed, indoors, and seemed to prefer to stay with the pair.

"Ow," the woman said under her breath.

Calmly her partner said, "It isn't my fault, you know, Raven."

"Of course it is," she snapped, though her eyes showed wry amusement. "It's always your fault."

"It was the drunk's fault--be still--and not mine. Blame-It-On-Solarin Day was yesterday."

"That's every day. Anyhow, the idiot was trying to help you. He'd probably bet on you." Raven turned to look at the corbie watching her from over Solarin's shoulder. "Mor, go stare at the bar wench until she brings another pitcher, hmm?" The raven obligingly flapped off his perch, startling the patrons of the tavern as he flew across the room.

Solarin commented dryly, dabbing more blood off of Raven's scraped knuckles, "A brawl really wasn't necessary. We could have let that third match go and decided who was better another time."

Raven snorted. "He hit me. At least we came out ahead. I told you I had a reason for betting it would never be decided."

"Sheer contrariness," judged Solarin.

Raven suddenly turned, peering out through the window into the storm. The sheets of rain made the thick glass seem to be dissolving, flowing like gel down out of their panes. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Solarin turned to look, squinting in an effort to see into the murk.

"I saw it just now when the lightning struck.. Look, there it is." Raven's blue eyes widened.

"A pegasus? Out in this morass?" Solarin queried in disbelief.

Raven cupped her hands to the glass in an effort to see better. "There's someone with it. This does not bode well... why would a pegasus deign to come here in the middle of a storm? With someone, no less."

Solarin looked to his partner. "I don't know, shayala, but I'm willing to bet we'll get wound up in it..."

Raven sighed, while Mor landed on her shoulder to preen delicately at her hair. "There's someone outside who's going to want shelter and special stabling," she predicted to the barmaid who set a carafe of red wine on their table. Reaching into her comfortably heavy purse, she drew out a platinum coin and flipped it onto the girl's tray. "On me, and make sure they know."

The puzzled bar wench nodded, picking up the coin and heading to confer with the owner of the Midnight Sun. Raven and Solarin watched her go.

"Why pay for them?" Solarin asked.

Absently stroking Mor's glossy feathers, Raven answered, "We might get hired. A pegasus out in a storm... could mean trouble. Two mercs who can handle most kinds of trouble aren't bad company, and a pegasus won't as likely look down its nose at us--not you, anyhow."

Solarin poured himself a fresh glass of wine, reflecting, "Benefits of being an elf..."

Claire:
Seashimmer opened the tavern door with relief, happy to be out of the rain at last. As she closed it behind her, she took a moment simply to stand and appreciate the warmth before gesturing at her clothes, which glowed for an instant and the returned to normal, dry. Shaking her head to clear the water out of her hair, she looked around. The Midnight Sun, as the sign outside the tavern had proclaimed, was packed, not surprising given the weather. She shouldered her way through the crowd towards the bar. She could have just eaten the food she had with her, of course, but that seemed rude, and besides, she had plenty of money. Her last patient had been generous, and rightly so, she thought with a glance at her missing hand. She'd have to fix that up soon, before people drew the wrong conclusions; she'd heard that removal of a hand was common punishment for thieves in these parts. At last she reached the bar, and ordered a glass of wine, paying what seemed an overly high sum for the drink. Glass in hand, she surveyed the tap room for an empty seat.

Rainbow:
Dee peered at the sign as it swung 'gently' in the breeze, :The Midnight Sun!: she crowed triumphantly.

:Oh, alright,: Rainbow mentally laughed, :We'll stop here, but I'm not doing all the work on your coat.:

:OK, I'll set that cleaning spell Sapphire put on me to work.: Dee said sighing, :At least the effort will mean I'm clean, just don't expect me to magic away anything!:

Rainbow shook her head, Dee knew the Heir was quite capable of dealing with magic, she was an adept after all! Dee'rina just liked to feel needed...

:Rainbow...:

:Oh, Dee, I know you're a master at least, but...:

:Just hurry up, and lets get inside, I'm starving!:

They approached the huge black inn, the yellow oak beams over the doorway fanned out in a sun-shape, and off to one side she could hear the whinny of horses. Rainbow dismounted. Slowly.

"Owww" she said out loud, stretching her aching muscles. :Off you go Dee, I'll see if they allow horses, I mean pegasi, inside, and I'll come and get you, OK?:

The muddy brown pegasus in question had already wandered off to the stables, her tack unfastening it's magic bindings, and Rainbow rolled her eyes as she stepped into the Midnight Sun.

A serving girl stepped out of the door, and smiled at Rainbow suddenly, "I have been asked to take you to see someone. A merc I think, she paid for your, pegasus's is it? stabling, and would like to talk to you."

Rainbow looked puzzled, a merc? Why would a merc want to talk to her? Following the serving girl she was seated at a table along with a woman with pure black hair, bound in a braid, and a man, who was tending the woman's sore knuckles, who was as bright as the sun.

Rainbow had to laugh, Midnight Sun?

"You wanted to see me?" Rainbow asked, "But who are you, and why do you want to see me? Dee'rina and I are not looking for help from other kingdoms, or from mercs..."

Raven Darkblade:
Raven sipped at a glass of wine, keeping a surreptitious eye on the door. Presently she nudged Solarin under the table with a booted toe. (There,) she said, as a young, none-too-tidy girl in muddy silks was ushered in by the barmaid and directed to their table.

(The one with the pegasus?) Solarin queried mentally, not looking up.

(Yes. Wonder what she's up to--she can't be more than fourteen or fifteen.)

He looked up now, giving the approaching girl a quick, seemingly careless once-over with his bright green eyes before returning his attention to Raven's injured hand. :Not from around here, I'll wager. Most of these folks aren't sure pegasi exist, and fewer can afford to ruin silks like that, especially after that last mess with the Black Adept.. If pressed, I'd say she came over the Worldsend Mountains in the storm. May not have even meant to. I haven't been over the Worldsend myself, but according to the maps of this land in Karilanth, there are a few countries north of the mountains who have friendly relations with a clan or so of pegasi. She may be from there:.

Raven smiled slightly. :Thanks, shayala:. Then she looked up to the girl as she reached their table.

"You wanted to see me?" the girl asked, "But who are you, and why do you want to see me? Dee'rina and I are not looking for help from other kingdoms, or from mercs..."

Raven allowed the slightest of smiles. Temporarily dismissing the fact that the girl had not introduced herself to them, she said, "You're rather conspicuously not from this area. You happen to be in Crossroads, right smack in the middle of the Kaladh Forest--also called the Black Forest due to the fact that folks tend to die here."

:Careful, Raven:, Solarin warned. :Try not to be insulting:.

:I'm not:, Raven answered.

A wry tone flavored his mindspeech. :You are. Anyhow, you might be interested to note that she's smelling of Magic like the kitchen smells of bread and onions:.

Leaping on Solarin's intuition--he was not a mage himself, but as an elf in the comparatively magic-poor human realm, he could sense magic if it had any strength behind it--Raven continued, "In the Kaladh, people like you and your friend the pegasus are otherwise known as Lunch. And then there's the Black Dragon, who is still out there somewhere eating travelers. You may not be looking for mercenaries, but if you intend to spend any amount of time around here, you're going to need them." Raven paused to take a long sip of her wine, then concluded, "I am Raven Darkblade, friend of elves and of Stormchaser the black pegasus. My partner is Solarin Swifthand--"

"--an elf, as long as we're listing our credentials," Solarin put in smoothly, with a pointed look at Raven. "And you are...?"

Andi:
Etain peered through the drizzling rain, trying to make out the sign over the door. Was this the right inn? The sign said "The Midnight Sun". Yes, this was the place she had been looking for. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her, and opened the door. She entered the tavern, letting the warm light and laughter wash over her, drying her like the sun's rays on a summer day. The door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the memory of the imposing storm. She removed her thick green wool cloak and hung in on a hook on the far wall.

Her black hair was damp from the rain flying in through the hood of the cloak, and it went in every which way. She smoothed it down because, after all, scraggly hair was not the style for Mercs. She was dressed in black from head to toe, black leather pants, loose tunic, jerkin, belt, boots, even her hair was black to compliment the outfit. Many had told her she looked evil in all black, she laughed at the thought. She needed to look grim and professional tonight, though she knew not why.

She had entered so unobtrusively that not many had noticed her come in. She had seen a few heads turn, though, and she made herself appear uninteresting. She walked over to the table, sat and ordered a mug of warm cider from the barmaid. Etain smiled as she thought of how many people had missed the one strange fact about her. She was a fairie. Complete with elf-ears and wings. One would think that would be the tip off, but when she told her real age (53) and her race, people were generally surprised that she was not human. She kept her wings folded neatly behind her so as not to attract notice, but her pointed ears were clearly visible through her short black hair.

She was not the typical run 'o the mill fairir, though, she was a special breed. Tall and built like humans, warrior fairies specialized in one thing, fighting. Usually only one was born in each generation at the FlaimeHolt, but two had been born in the year of her birth. Herself, Etain Seaward, and her partner, Owain Westholt. Owain had to go home on some personal business, so she was alone for the moment.

It was strange. Just a few days ago she had the feeling that she needed to be somewhere and be there urgently. She sent a note to Owain saying that she would be on some personal business, and that she would meet him at the designated place in a month, and set out. She followed the gentle tugging that was pulling at her consciousness, and it led her here to the Midnight Sun. As soon as she had stepped through the doors into the rosy firelight it had dissipated and left her on her own. She had no idea why she was brought here.

Sighing contentedly with her cider in hand, she surveyed the room. It was a normal barroom, inebriated patrons sipping drinks, talking, but something caught her eye. Off in the opposite corner there were two...mercs, she guessed, talking to a lady of seemingly highborn nature. That wasn't all unusual, except both merc's features were definitely elf-like in nature. Now what were two of her cousins, the elfin race, doing this far from the Magical Lands? She leaned back into the shadows watching contentedly. Whatever they planned, it might be exciting...she could use something to do, the Lady knew she had enough time on her hands. She bided her time, watching for the right minute to make her move....

A very drunk patron happened to glance in her direction and catch her eyes. She did nothing, but for the rest of his days he claimed to have seen the green-flecked eyes of a dragon in the barroom of the Midnight Sun.

Rainbow:
When the golden haired man, Solarin, asked 'and you are?' Rainbow was still in shock. (Black pegasi)?

"I am Princess Rainbow Faye, Heir to the throne of Animi," she said, recovering her composure, "Dee'rina Harnon is my best friend, and my partner. We have come to visit new kingdoms, and," she laughed, dropping the royal pose, "we certainly weren't expecting this storm! By the way, do you know if Dee is allowed in here, and do you have any mental gifts so she can talk to you as well?"

When the two people nodded, to both questions, she called quickly, :Hey, Dee, come on in!: Noticing a, (what was that?, a fairy?) in the corner, she added, :If they let fairies in then Pegasi must be allowed!:

Turning back to the couple she said quietly, "I was just talking to Dee."

The black hair woman, Raven, said softly, "We heard, I hope you meant no disrespect to the fairie?"

"No! Of course not!" Rainbow stuttered, "You can hear Dee?" When Raven nodded, she continued. "You were offering help? I would like a guide around here, and I don't know anything about this place. Crossroads you called it? And also, I would like to," she winced, "get training for some of my magic."

She noticed Solarin raised his eyebrows, and she continued, "I am adept class, Dee is a Master, but we both need training for our gifts. I can shield, and work some spells, but I can do no war magic, and from what you said about the black dragon..."

:She can even do cleaning spells!: Dee decided to input at that moment.

:Dee!: Rainbow exclaimed, :that's Sapphire's spell, and also it doesn't look good if it seems as if all I can do are cleaning spells!:

"Anyway," Rainbow continued, as Dee trotted in, wet, again, pity the cleaning spell didn't cover drying! "I have a feeling my gifts would be useful, if I could somehow get training!"

Angie:
The elven-mage sighed. Late...again. (It never fails. The Gates are always clogged when you least want them to be...)

She stood in the middle of the courtyard in front of a tavern, soaking wet from her ordeal with the rain back home. Her black robes of office were plastered to her body by the moisture and with a frown, she conjured them away, putting on comfortable cotton, (no sense in being sticky in leather) black breeches and a black tunic. Her waist-long, black hair found itself tied back with a black leather thong (cotton tangles together when wet, after all), and dry as she made her way out of the darkening sky. She didn't travel so fast just to have the storm catch up with her.

Checking to see that her Blade was still at her side, Shadowblade walked towards the door of the tavern and opened the door to light and warmth. (Ahhh, at last! I'll be able to feel warm again!) Quickly shutting the door behind her, she gave the insides of the tavern a quick perusal. (Hmmm, a couple of them are here, not all though. Wonder why the sudden restlessness....)

:Hey, at least you're not the only one who's late!: A voice piped up in her mind and she grinned. The unicorn and her fairie were never completely unlinked from her mind. Though unable to be with the mage physically, Ynys, the unicorn, and Danaa, the fairie, had often contributed advice when the elven mage was found to be in deep trouble. Her dragon guardians were never too far off as well. Shadowblade smiled in remembrance of a particular escapade -- her mentor often commented on her ability to strike friendships with the other immortal creatures.

Before she had embarked on this reckless journey to an unknown world, she had received a message from her mentor, an old decrepit mortal who never did disclose his name to her, giving her directions and demanding that she present herself there now. That's probably the reason why she had forgotten to bring her weather shield with her and got caught in the storm. (Damn the old man anyhow. Where is he?)

She made her way to the bar, noticing another individual dressed entirely in black. :See, black is in fashion!: she sent to Ynys, who always insisted that White was the way things were supposed to be. Privately, Shadowblade wondered if it was due to the fact that the unicorn's coat was white. Waiting for the bartender to come up with her drink of plain water, thank you very much, she leaned on the counter and observed her surroundings.

(Not bad, wonder how the old fool found such a meeting place. Certainly an improvement over that hovel he called a workshop.) The fireplace was lit, flames bobbing amiably. A few tables were scattered over the floor area, populated by various clientele. At least two other elves were there (was that Raven over there?),she wondered. She distinctly noted that the other person dressed entirely in black was a fairie -- even though she did try to hide her wings. Deciding that her old mentor might not be coming, after all, he never said if he was meeting her -- and he always informed her psionicly before such meetings. Shadowblade collected her drink and made her way to the warrior fairie. Maybe she'd know something about what was coming up...

Andi:
Etain watched the group in the other corner intently, sipping her cider and finally getting warm. The feeling that had led her here had picked up again, but it had ceased it's gentle tugging... now it just quivered, waiting expectantly.

Suddenly a phrase echoed in her mind :If they let fairies in then Pegasi must be allowed!: she started, as she was the only fairie present. She had small amounts of mind-magic, enough to speak and hear, but the sender must be very strong...she noticed the group in the corner glance in her direction. Hmm... she was noticed. Well, there went her plan of hiding out in the shadows. Since her cover had been blown, she leaned into the light.

(A pegasi)? This was getting stranger than she had ever imagined.

She looked up to find another figure in black surveying the room. This was another of the elfin-folk, and a mage at that! There were so many blackclad women in this Tavern the regular patrons must be terrified. She laughed to herself.

Noticing the elven mage was coming towards her, she pushed the chair out from under the table so the mage could sit down.

"'Tis a strange night for those of the fair folk to be out, Aye? Must be a reason for so many to be in one place, though I canna say I ken it." She stood. "Etain Seaward, Warrior Fairie. And you be?"

Raven Darkblade:
Solarin 'Said amusedly to Raven, :I believe you've surprised her:.

Raven gave a mental smirk. :I have that effect. It's nice to have permission to drop Stormchaser's name:.

:Nicer to have an ancient black pegasus willing to back up that Name-dropping:.

(Mmm.) Raven canted her head to the side as the girl answered Solarin, "I am Princess Rainbow Faye, Heir to the throne of Animi. Dee'rina Harnon is my best friend, and my partner. We have come to visit new kingdoms,"

:Animi:. Solarin flicked a bit of hair away from his eyes. :Sounds like my guess was right. The name isn't familiar, but they'd have had to come from the north--storm or no storm, they'd have noticed if they flew over the oceans:.

"And," Rainbow continued, laughing, "we certainly weren't expecting _this_ storm! By the way, do you know if Dee is allowed in here, and do you have any mental gifts so she can talk to you as well?"

Raven nodded absently, 'Saying to Solarin, :Relay for me, shayala:?

:With pleasure:, her partner answered--privately, she suspected, though she could hardly tell the difference. Raven had no mental gifts of her own, but could share Mindspeech with Solarin and with Mor. Occasionally Mikahl and Stormchaser had Bespoken her, but that was mostly due to their much greater power and control. Neither had to 'speak her to communicate.

:If they let fairies in then Pegasi must be allowed!: Rainbow suddenly exclaimed mentally. Catching Solarin's relay, Raven glanced over quickly and saw a woman--obviously a fairie to Raven's practiced eye--sitting across the room nursing a mug of cider.

:Solarin...: Raven began.

:Yes, I saw her. You had bigger fish to fry. She's been there a few minutes. A warrior fairie, I'd think:.

Rainbow said apologetically, "I was just talking to Dee."

Quietly Raven replied, "We heard. I hope you meant no disrespect to the fairy?" Warrior fairies were on Raven's mental list of 'on our side, but let's not piss them off.'

"No! Of course not!" Rainbow stuttered, "You can hear Dee?"

When Raven nodded, she continued.

"You were offering help? I would like a guide around here, and I don't know anything about this place. Crossroads you called it? And also, I would like to," she winced, "get training for some of my magic."

Solarin raised his eyebrows, and Raven groaned mentally. :Untrained. An untrained mageling in the middle of the Kaladh. Mara'liweion's breasts! We may as well paint a sign: 'Free food here!':

Rainbow continued, "I am Adept class, Dee is a Master, but we both need training for our gifts. I can shield, and work some spells, but I can do no war magic, and from what you said about the black dragon..."

:We can hardly not stick with them now. Even Stormchaser and the Singer couldn't kill the Black Dragon... and an untrained Adept...: Solarin propped one arm up on the table and cupped his chin in his hand.

"Anyway," Rainbow finished, after a slightly harried exchange with the pegasus. "I have a feeling my gifts would be useful, if I could somehow get training!"

At that moment the pegasus, Dee'rina, trotted in, dripping water over the floor of the tavern. Raven rose from her seat and bowed as murmurs of surprise and amazement rippled through the crowd at the sight. Solarin, too, stood, and said smoothly, "We greet thee, winged one." The pair then sat, and Raven turned her attention back to Rainbow.(/P>

"I can tell you that no one in Crossroads, or the rest of this country, for that matter, is going to know much about your country. Solarin and I are better-traveled than most of the people who come through Crossroads, and it is a trade city, very cosmopolitan by its standards, and even we don't know much about anything north of the Worldsend mountains."

Picking up Raven's thread, Solarin added, "If you wish, Raven and I can show you the way out of the Kaladh forest."

"Or," Raven continued, "we can help you find someone here willing to teach you. Or both, as you like. In fact, there is one very powerful mage said to live in the Kaladh. We can help you find him if you like."

Solarin hedged, "It is a rumor, but if he's there, Raven and I can help you find him. And if he isn't, we can take you the rest of the way out of the Kaladh and find some other mage. Whichever you like."

:Don't look now:, Raven 'Said suddenly to Solarin, :but this group of oddlings has just grown larger by one:.

Solarin grinned slightly. :Shadowblade, neh:?

:I'd love to know how you're seeing these things before I am. You're starting to get like Mikahl, I swear, that man is not human:! Raven Sent Mor a mental query, and the raven launched himself from her shoulder and winged across the room to greet 'Blade.

:Ah, and I suppose I'm chopped liver? Shayala, she Gated in, I couldn't have helped but sense her even if she were as human as you. Anyhow, I'm sitting facing the door. You aren't. Now, back to business.: He nudged her under the table, and she turned hastily back to Rainbow. "Anyhow, it's up to you what you decide, but whichever way, Solarin and I are willing to help."

:Even if we had a choice in the matter:, Solarin 'Said heavily to Raven. :But it'd be nice to occasionally get paid for these things. Sometimes being a Bastion of Good is a bloody nuisance.:

:In very deed, my friend.: Raven leaned back in her chair, propping soft-booted feet up on the table. "So. Is there anything you want explained in greater detail? Crossroads, the Kaladh Forest, the Black Dragon, Stormchaser, us?"

Sorchafyr:
"I knew I did not want to be out after dark." Sand grumbled to herself. How the sunshine of afternoon could have given way to this storm, arriving just at sunset, she would never know. The vagrancies of weather were never predictable, to her anyway. Just as she was about to give up and find a halfway dry tree to throw a blanket over for at least some shelter, she saw a glimmering on the path ahead. The way my day's going, she thought it will be an illusion. I will finally have lost what little wits haven't abandoned me long ago. Nevertheless she trudged on, and was encouraged to find a tavern, with light beckoning from the windows. She peered at the sign over the door, looking for an indicator of the clientele. "The Midnight Sun", huh? That meant nothing, but on a night like this the picture of the welcoming sun looked good. Sand pushed open the door and slid inside. Her black hair was dripping and her sturdily woven travel clothes were not in much better shape. It was a good thing she had her performance clothes in the oiled and waxed bag, they would be dry.

At least this wasn't the type of place where all talk stopped when someone came in, so they could be sized up. Sand had played enough places to know that was a good sign. At least this was not an overtly dangerous place. She also knew it was bad form to stay too long in the doorway sizing the place up. She moved toward the bar, looking for the barman to offer a trade of services for food and lodging. She slowed as she realized something was not quite "normal" here, somehow the atmosphere was different from all the other bars she had been in.

(And that is quite an extensive list), she thought wryly, (I would hate to have to name them all on pain of death). Shaking off the urge to peer at all the partitions until she could put her finger on the difference, she sped up her pace until she reached the bar. (After all, you could wind up badly if someone thinks you are paying too much attention to them. And you know you can't fight to save your life. Well, maybe to save your life).

Seeing the barmaid was serving someone else, Sand turned to survey the room once more. Suddenly she gasped, causing the man next to her to glance her way. Even her bardic training deserted her, the usual sense of "what the mood of the audience is" was gone, all her senses caught up in what must surely be a vision. In one corner of the room stood a creature she had always dreamed of, a vision of white not-horse. Suddenly conscious of her dripping disarray, Sand turned quickly back to the bar, but her attention could not be controlled so easily.

(What on earth could I perform that would please a pegasus)? With the thought of performing she took a deep breath and became professional. Flagging the barmaid over, she tried to ascertain if the woman had the authority to hire her, putting in subtle plugs about how wonderful some live performances would be.

Kathryn:
Fallenangel kneed her horse, leaning low over his back as he galloped down the dark trail toward The Midnight Sun, her riding cloak streaming behind her like molten gold.

:Slow Down!: Isis mindspoke, :You'll end up thrown for sure!:

Fallenangel laughed, shaking her head. :I've never been thrown from a horse,: she answered, and I never will be.:

:There's always a first time,: Isis grumbled.

:Oh, you're just grumpy because you're wet,: her bondmate replied with a grin.

:So are you,: Isis growled.

"Yes," Fallenangel shouted over her shoulder, and the sound of the storm. "But I'm not a cat; I don't mind!" Suddenly the tavern reared up ahead of her in the darkness, and she pulled the stallion to a halt. A moment later, Isis landed beside her, with a decidedly grumpy expression on the winged black panther's face. The stallion snorted and pranced nervously, still unused to having a predator so close. Fallenangel calmed him with a hand on his neck and a few murmured words; and slid off his back with reluctance. She handed his reins to the stableboy who came to meet them, gaping at the sight of a winged woman and panther; then the bond-mates bolted for the door as the storm renewed it's fury.

:I'll never get what you see in horses,: Isis said, :or storms, for that matter.:

Fallenangel looked down, amused. :I'll never get what you see in hunting, or alcohol, so we're even.:

:You,: the panther sniffed, :have an untrained palate.:

:Well, you have no sense of adventure.: Fallenangel replied, shaking out her soaking wet maroon riding skirt and golden cloak. :I think that these are ruined.: she sighed, and moved toward the bar. She noticed several women dressed in black, including a large warrior-fairie and a young woman whose sword practically _radiated_ Power. :Isis,: she sent, :is that...:

:Yes,: the panther's awed mind-voice replied, :it's a Blade. I didn't think that there were any left.:

:Well, lets hope that she uses it well.: Fallenangel leaned against the bar next to a young Bard inquiring about work, giving her a friendly nod, and ordered a drink. "Plain water for me," she said, "but the panther will have a whiskey." The bartender nodded, seeming only slightly surprised at their appearance.

Drinks in hand, Fallenangel turned and set the shot of whiskey near the edge of the bar. Isis reared on her hind legs, placing her front feet on the bar and tossing the shot down like a pro. Fallenangel just shook her head at the sight, although a few of the nearby patrons gazed wide-eyed. She picked up her drink and looked around for a table, noticing a elven woman (with a missing hand?) doing the same.

"I think that there's one over there," she offered, gesturing toward an empty table near a window, "if you don't mind sharing with Isis and I, of course."

Aldric:
He had been at the Midnight Sun for three days now. He had been going on for quite some time looking and searching for some unknown help. This place appeared like many of the others he had been to until recently. Lately many people (or is it things?) had been walking in. Gryn had always been fascinated by those who were different because those who were different, were often from far off lands, lands were people knew things that he didn't. He had thought of approaching some people, but every time he was about to get up, something startled him. It was always something different that had entered. One other thing was stopping him. His clothes were mere rags, and he could stand to be cleaned up. These people were not to be reckoned with, and he could stand his ground most times, but these people looked trained. Trained for what? He wasn't quite sure.

Angie:
Noticing the elven mage was coming towards her, she pushed the chair out from under the table so the mage could sit down.

"'Tis a strange night for those of the fair folk to be out, aye? Must be a reason for so many to be in one place, though I canna say I ken it." She stood. "Etain Seaward, Warrior Fairie. And you be?"

"Shadowblade, Elven archer-mage. Which just means that I can shoot and work magery." A pause before she added, "Just call me 'Blade', it's easier on the tongue." The elf smiled as she took the seat. Glancing around, she observed that most of the inhabitants wore black. (Hah, one more point for me!) Suddenly she felt a thump! on her shoulder as a huge raven landed on her left shoulder.

:Mor?: she sent in surprise. The bird bobbed his head, staring at the startled mage with a beady eye. That would mean that Raven was the other elf after all.

Turning back to her companion, who was sitting at attention, if anyone can, a few hand spans away from the table, 'Blade introduced the raven to the Warrior. (They should get along together, after all, is not the raven the bird of the Lady of War?)

Gesturing to a table by the side surrounded by a black pegasus and a Princess (upbringing shows), the elf suggested that they move towards the discussion. "Most of the Folk here are gathering at that table. Are you not beginning to wonder? Especially at the presence of a Pegasus? Besides, I know that Raven, to whom this bird is bonded to, is seated at that table. Politeness bids me greet her and her friends."

The elf stood up, finishing her drink and waited for Etain to accompany her. As the Warrior stood up, she 'Sent a thought over to Solarin and Raven, :Hey, what's so bad about my appearance?: Yellow amusement was 'Sent over as well, just in case either of the two would misunderstand.

(Yeah, well, that's all the warning they'll get.) She smiled to herself as they neared the table, picking up tidbits about a mage, and a black dragon. Just as they reached the table, she saw that Raven had offered to narrate the entire background of her coming. Always one for a tale, she could not help but say, "Start from the beginning. Hello Raven and Solarin - missed me?" quietly behind the Princess' shoulder. (Is she Mage-gifted? I swear her aura's blinding me!)

Andi:
Etain smiled as Blade introduced her to the Raven. :Be Greeted Morrigan: she thought. The bird turned, and she could almost swear it smiled. Ravens were treated with reverence by her people as Messengers of Morrigu, the Great Lady of War. She smiled back.

Nodding and indicating her curiosity and politeness, Etain rose and followed Blade over to the other table. Since she was now nearer to the highborn Lady, she felt the pulsings of untrained magic. She did not have the Magegift, no Warrior Fairie did, they focused on the arts of War, and considered magic to be a distraction, but she did have the Sight, and the Mindmagic as so many others did this night. She chuckled as she introduced herself.

"Etain Seaward, Warrior Fairie, and also dressed in black." She smiled at the pegasus, and bowed to the elves and the highborn Lady. She waited to hear the rest of the story that they seemed to have interrupted.

Startled out of a complacent trance, she slipped into those if she did not guard herself, though she was fully alert, she noticed a beautiful panther at the bar, drinking shots of whisky. :Now, that 'tis something ya dinna see everyday: She thought nodding at the panther. :At least not where I'm from...:

Adrienne:
Aliaya awoke abruptly, unsure of what had awakened her. She gave herself a mental check to find the cause. A burning coldness rose within her. Aliaya had never had a cold feeling in her life, so she knew it came from outside of her. She carefully shook her husband awake.

"Sorjo," she whispered when she saw light reflect off his open eyes, "there is someone here. Someone bad."

He searched her face. She 'Sent him the feeling that had awoken her and some of the images she was still receiving. "Alright," he said, "let your father know. I'll get Evans. We'll meet in the Feast Hall with as many men as we can find. You get the small ones. Lock yourselves in the nursery." Quietly and quickly they removed themselves from bed and dressed. She mentally tapped her father and whispered in his mind Sorjo's instructions.

As she turned to go, Sorjo caught her arm. He took her face in his large, callused hands and kissed her lips tenderly. She returned his kiss. "I love you," he whispered. She opened herself to him and felt the emotion wash over her.

"I love you, too," she responded. They separated. As she closed the nursery door behind her she realized Sorjo had just said farewell.

Aliaya refused to dwell on it. She woke the nurse and told her to go home. "Leave by the servants back way," she directed. The servants back way was essentially an escape route that was only known to her family and their personal attendants.

She gently lifted her son and daughter out of their cribs, careful not to wake them. She opened the hidden door to the secret room between the nursery and her bedroom. She laid the children down on the pillows there, then boarded the door locked.

As much as she wanted to find out what was going on, she did not want to lose her mind in any battle frenzy. Even after 20 years of being god-Touched, she still did not have much control over her ability. Instead, she turned her thoughts inward, offering her thoughts to her goddess.

She laid down on the soft rug and pulled her children close to her. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts flow freely. The first thought that presented itself was Sorjo's farewell. She resolutely pushed that thought away; it was too early to start thinking about it. The next thought that came was of her father. He appeared in her mind dressed in his riding attire. Ever since she was a little girl, they would go for weekly horse rides. As a matter of course, he spent some time with her and her mother every day. He always felt it was important to spend lots of time with his family. He said it kept him level-headed and put the matters of the realm into perspective.

Those thoughts led to her mother. Her mother had died when she was twelve. At least she had been there through most of Aliaya's life, for most of her needs a girl could want her mother for. The main event her mother had missed had been Aliaya's wedding and marriage. This brought her thoughts to Sorjo.

Like almost all nobility, Aliaya and Sorjo had been betrothed at her birth. When she turned fourteen, Sorjo came form his father's estate. They'd had one month to get to know each other. However, they had been kept apart due to their duties, Aliaya as bride and Sorjo as groom and prospective heir to the throne. Aliaya and Sorjo were still strangers when they wed. They spent their wedding night talking and learning about each other. She was lucky, Sorjo was still young enough to have idealistic views about marriage. He also let her wait until she was comfortable to consummate their marriage. Since then, they had produced two more heirs to the throne.

Rayna was her first child. She was as perfect as a lamb. And although the 3-year old was not god-Touched, the priestesses said she possessed potential to be Gifted. Gifts usually only appeared at puberty, so only time would impart that possibility. When Rayna was First Heir, a Gift was not particularly important. But now she was Second Heir, and a Gift would give her more freedom of choice in finding a path for her life.

Ruvan was her second child and the reason Rayna was now Second Heir. Males always had first claim to the throne before females, despite order of birth. Ruvan was not god-Touched either, but that was not particularly surprising. Being god-Touched was extraordinarily rare. It was more likely a person would be Gifted, and Gifts were not at all common. Ruvan had other special characteristics, though. He could not hear. It was likely he would be Gifted because children with such obstacles were often Given special traits. Aliaya only speculated about his Gifts. He was much too young to test at four months.

Aliaya's thoughts drifted on and on. The walls were thick, so she heard no sounds. She knew, though, that a battle raged in the castle. She did not sleep nor knew how much time had passed. Her son awoke, hungry. She put him to her breast and fed him. Full and content, he drifted back to sleep.

Finally, she could stand it no longer. She carefully probed the castle with her mind. There was no battle. She searched for Sorjo. She did not find him, but she found pain in the throne room. She woke Rayna and Ruvan. With Rayna close at her side and carrying Ruvan, she took the servant's route to the throne room.

Once she reached the doorway, she left the children sheltered in the hall. She entered the room. Her father was collapsed upon the throne. "Father?" she called as she ran to his aid.

"Aya," he breathed. She took his hands and he looked into her eyes. "Leave... now..."

"Don't speak." She reached to his mind. The agony of death washed over her. She nearly fainted, but she held on.

:He is gone: Her father's mind-voiced wheezed. :He will come back, declare Sorjo dead, kill heirs, take you.... Go, please.:

:Where is Sorjo?:

:I don't know. No one lived.:

:I'll get a Healer...:

:No, you... take my sword... Ruvan's now. You and children... live.:

Aliaya began to lose her grasp on her father. She took him in her arms and held him until her mind could feel him no more.

Holding back tears, she removed his sword.

:I belong to the King:, a commanding voice stated in her mind.

:I don't care:, she thought, strapping the sword around her. :The King is dead. Who knows where Sorjo is.:

:Ah, Touched One.: The voice fell silent.

Aliaya gathered her children. As she picked up Ruvan, the voice returned. :Ruvan, my King.: Then it fell silent again. Aliaya rushed back to the nursery. She packed one bag full of clothes and baby needs for Rayna and Ruvan. Then, she went to her own room and packed a bag of her plainest gowns. She took her royal coronet, a circlet of gold adorned by golden roses; she also took the earrings her mother gave her, heirlooms passed down for generations. Lastly, she placed her wedding band on her finger.

(Now, food), she thought. In the kitchen she found a padded traveling bag. She stuffed it full of fruit and other edible looking items she thought would keep. She looted the family coffers, then headed to the stables.

Approaching the stables, she heard none of the familiar horse and stable noises. It was quite disconcerting. When she entered the stables, she saw all the stalls were empty.

"Hello?" she called softly, into the dark.

One of the stable doors slowly opened. A dark head peered out. "Ye-es?"

"Where are all the horses?"

"They-they scared 'em off, m-my Lady," the boy answered.

"All?" Aliaya felt her calm manner slip.

"Well, all except Grandma Mare. They must's not seen her."

"Grandma Mare. She's good. Please saddle her for me."

"Yes, my Lady." The scampered off to get the little mare ready. Grandma Mare was aptly named. She was inexplicably small, shorter than even Aliaya and her small stature. The horse, pony, really, was very old and calm.

Aliaya was glad Rayna had already had some basic riding instruction. When the horse was saddled, Aliaya attached the traveling bags and put her daughter on the pony. Giving the stable boy a few silvers, she said, "Go home now. And don't come back. There is no one to serve here any longer."

He took a long look at her, then turned and ran off.

Aliaya took Grandma Mare's lead rope, and started her journey into the sunrise.

-*-

Aliaya could not fall asleep. It had been a year since the castle had been attacked and the nightmares haunted her still. She had wandered far in that time.

Muranog:
:This is the last time I want to cross these mountains, if this is normal weather for this part of the world,: the huge black sheep Mindsent.

:Stop complaining,: her rider mentally laughed in response. :It's only rainwater, it won't dissolve you. And you said you wanted to explore strange distant lands?:

:I still think we should have Gated,: grumbled the sheep. :You're an Adept after all, bondmate, you could have got us here in minutes rather than days.:

:In this weather?: the troll snorted. :You know as well as I do how Gating messes up the weather, Sable, and that storm was bad enough when we left Ironhold. If I'd Gated in the midst of that, the world might have fallen apart completely! Anyway, we're here now, at least. I doubt there are TWO inns called The Midnight Sun in this area. Now you can rest for a bit while I check out the inside and see if our contact is here yet.:

The huge black sheep came to a stop outside the inn's stable, water splashing from the puddles by the stable door as she stepped in them, and the troll slid from her back with practised ease. If the small, slight stableboy who came dashing out into the rain as the travellers arrived was at all surprised or afraid at the sight of a six-ton black sheep who stood as tall as an elephant, or a troll standing ten feet tall and wearing rather wet and muddy plate armour, he did not show it, taking Sable's reins without even a single nervous gulp. The interior of the stable certainly looked large, Muranog thought as he let the lad lead his wet sheep bondmate inside. Perhaps the management here were used to visits by elephants or other such large riding beasts. Stooping to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe, Muranog followed Sable and the stableboy inside.

(Hmm, plenty of horses inside, but no elephants. But they do have quite a few empty stalls of the right size), he noticed. Taking the brush and currycomb the stableboy offered, the troll began to carefully groom his wet and bedraggled bondmate. Impatience getting the better of him, he concentrated for a moment, and the comb and brush were shrouded in a warm rosy glow and began to radiate a dry, comforting warmth. Sable sighed contentedly as the bespelled comb and brush quickly cleaned and dried her, and slowly eased herself into one of the huge stalls, settling down happily on a bed of warm dry sweet-smelling hay.

Pausing only to tip the stableboy with a large silver royal from the money pouch at his belt, a coin almost the size of the stableboy's fist, Muranog headed out of the stable and quickly dashed across the forecourt of the inn, through the torrential rain, to the main door, moving with surprising speed and agility for his size.

(K'Sath be praised,) he thought, (the place looks large enough that I won't have to shrink. It's been hundreds of years since any of our people came this way. I wonder if we're still remembered here? Or maybe they have other visitors here of a size with us.) Ducking to avoid banging his head again, the troll pulled open the door and stepped into the barroom of the Midnight Sun. Straightening up inside and closing the door behind him, he surveyed his surroundings.

(Good, I was right. That ceiling is easily five feet above even my head. Makes a change to find somewhere in human-country that caters to our folk. Hmm, and other folk too it seems. Elves, a pegasus - hmm, a winged panther, that's a new one even for me, and that fairie looks like she knows how to use a blade.)

As Muranog surveyed the room, a few of the clientele already inside turned to glance at the new arrival who was dripping water and mud onto the doormat. Muttering a few more imprecations on the weather, the troll Adept concentrated for a few moments, then suddenly shrouded himself in hot blue flame with a loud WHOOSH! The water and mud coating his armour evaporated instantly, restoring it to its normal shiny state, while the troll inside the armour was instantly warmed and dried by his own magefire. As an afterthought, he directed a trace of heat downward, just enough to clean and dry the mat on which he had dripped. Then he dismissed the flames and headed into the interior of the barroom, conscious of the attention he had attracted by his dramatic entrance. After all, it probably wasn't every day that these people saw a ten-foot-tall black troll in white armour and a purple cloak walk in and burst into flame like a torch!

His purple eyes narrowed to slits beneath their pronounced black eye-ridges as he scanned the room, not for danger, the mageblade at his side would have warned of that, and the sword was comfortably silent right now,- but for any sign of a familiar face. There was none. Hardly surprising, but it would have been nice if the anonymous person who had sent the call for help had been someone he knew from his travels. Well, it was still quite possible that the summoner was, and simply hadn't arrived yet. Gods only knew what travellers might be trying to reach the inn and had been delayed by the awful weather outside.

"Can I help you, good sir?" the bartender asked as Muranog approached. The troll nodded.

"Since you probably don't serve molten iron here, I suppose a tankard of water will do." The bartender promptly provided the water, and Muranog looked around for a table, noticing with a little surprise that the winged panther at the bar was drinking whiskey.

(Hmm, I should make myself known to a few people, after all, one of them could just be the one who sent the call). Looking around, tankard in hand, the white-armoured and purple-cloaked troll saw a table with a few elves, a beautiful pegasus and a young human girl-woman(K'Sath and Graal preserve me! The aura on that one! Untrained Adept, or I'm a goblin)and headed over to them, noticing a few vacant chairs around the large table. Reaching the table, he bowed politely.

"The greetings of gods and mortals to you all. I am Muranog, called Shadowbane, Adept of the city of Ironhold. Have you room for one more traveller at your table? And is the weather always this bad here?"

Angie:
"The greetings of gods and mortals to you all. I am Muranog, called Shadowbane, Adept of the city of Ironhold. Have you room for one more traveller at your table? And is the weather always this bad here?"

At the sound of the newcomer's voice, 'Blade whipped back to face the door. (Stupid, stupid) she thought as the adrenaline of an adventure wore off. (What did Al say? 'Never leave your back naked'? Ahh, It was something like that.)

" 'Shadowbane', you say? Well, I hope that does not apply to ones whose usename begins with 'Shadow'." The elf lifted an eyebrow in question and smiled up at the troll. "Welcome, my name is Shadowblade, elven mage. Interesting way to dry off. I go by a less...showy display." She broke into a smile. "Raven's about to say something."

As Muranog settled in, she turned back to Etain and whispered into the Warrior's ear. "Sorry for the mistake back there. Canst thou find it in thine heart to forgive a humble mage?"

Sorchafyr:
Sand took a deep breath and prepared to start performing. She had haggled out food and lodgings for three nights, in exchange for two performances each evening. Usually the crowd was easy to read; either they wanted slow songs to start, with a romantic story or two, and could then be roused slowly into drinking songs, (thereby increasing the barkeeps profits), she thought with a smile. Or they needed fast songs and warrior stories to unify the tension and then could be lulled into a less heightened state of aggression by the end of the night (thereby saving breakage and damage to the barkeep's possessions). With this crowd she had no idea.

She gave herself an extra few minutes to think, adjusting her appearance. She had changed into her performance clothes, a black tight-fitting shirt and pants under a gauzy, multi-colored dress. Her hair was almost dry, the many braids now adorned with glittering colored glass and feathers arranged in such a way that the darker colors were near the top, fading down to a bright yellow on the bottom which matched the top color of her dress. Sand was proud of her hair, and had spent many hours, days even, getting this right.

But this could not be put off any longer. She looked around and decided to start with an old fighter's campaign song. After all nearly everyone around here looks dangerous to me. And I know there are at least a few mercenaries around. As she performed her mixture of songs and stories, she led the crowd to a place where they were, mainly, content, and happy to be ordering more drinks.

"Thank you all, and when I begin later I shall tell a new ballad, one of Thorian Two-Finger and how he won the Golden Tree." As she sat by the fire, her eyes went to the place she had avoided looking at all through her performance; the table in the corner where a large crowd of strange people had gathered, as well as several animals and that beautiful pegasus. I suppose, she thought with a sigh, I shall have to start making up the story of Thorian Two-finger now. As she stared at the group, she hummed the song of a tree she had once known, a sturdy oak near the house she had once called home.

Suddenly the pegasus raised it's head, and caught Sand staring at her. Sand could feel herself blush furiously, but refused to look away. She instinctively rose and moved toward the beautiful creature. The pegasus seemed almost amused, and when Sand was close enough to the group that it was too late to pretend she had been headed anywhere else, the winged one looked away.

Sand knew the value of a good performance. Quickly sizing up the cluster in the corner, (lots of fighters, an aristocrat, and several animals I wouldn't want to meet in the wrong alley), she put on a carefree attitude.

"Well, I hope I am not intruding, but may I ask what brings all of you together? I, as I hope you noticed by my performance, am a Bard, and I know there has to be a story in all this."

As the table fell silent at her words, she lost a little of her bold mask.

"That is, of course, if it's a story you want to share. Or, maybe share but not be told right now." Sand became aware that she had lost her vocal control yet again. "Enjoy the next performance." she mumbled, and turned to leave, her face hot and betraying yet again. How can I be so confident in front of hordes of people and yet such an idiot with only a few? she wondered miserably.

Rainbow:
"So. Is there anything you want explained in greater detail? Crossroads, the Kaladh Forest, the Black Dragon, Stormchaser, us?"

Rainbow started, she had just noticed a black-dressed woman enter The Midnight Sun, and caught the thought :ShadowBlade: from Raven, and she only just caught the end of Raven's speech.

"Yes!" she replied quickly, "I want to hear more about Stormchaser, Crossroads, everything! Listen, and I'll tell you about Animi." She propped her legs on the table, oh wasn't she glad not to have to adhere to so many rules and regulations!

"Animi is a country over the mountains, we call them the Brewen Mountains. It's quite prosperous, and the Queen, my mother, is Juniel, my father is Deesha, and we share Animi with the Pegasi."

:Of which I am one.: Dee interrupted in widesend mode.

:Yes, Dee: Rainbow sighed, :If they haven't noticed by now you've just guaranteed that they will.:

"Anyway, Animi has all the problems of a normal country, our peace keepers are the Resal and they're like, how do you say, your police?"

Raven nodded.

"We have dragons, but they're not as widespread as pegasi or unicorns so they're not full citizens."

She shrugged, "Any questions?"

:Talking of which,: she switched to mindspeech, :I would like you to help me train my gift, it's annoying now, and it'll go out of control soon, I think! If you need mounts I can call for some pegasi to come, or are you going to ride Stormchaser?:

Raven Darkblade:
Raven began, in a dryly sardonic voice, to answer Shadowblade, but Solarin suddenly Bespoke her. :Shayala, a troll. An Adept, I am certain.: Moments later a voice behind Raven said, "The greetings of gods and mortals to you all. I am Muranog, called Shadowbane, Adept of the city of Ironhold. Have you room for one more traveller at your table? And is the weather always this bad here?"

Shadowblade and a number of the other folk gathered at the table in the corner started, and Raven gritted her teeth. She said not a word until Shadowblade finished greeting Muranog Shadowbane and added, "Raven's about to say something."

Raven then obliged, though what she said was probably not at all what Shadowblade had expected. It spanned various languages and dialects--among them tradetongue, Karilanthian High Elvish, Low Elvish, the gypsy tongue, High Jacoran, Hobgoblin, and Mercenaries' Cant--and several religious beliefs, and it detailed a score of impossible physical positions and vile bodily functions. Finally she concluded, "...Solaras, Siliel, and Selaena guide my soul--because the way this is going, in a few hours I'm not going to be needing it any more!"

She looked around the table, from her elven partner to the untrained princess to the pegasus to the archer-mage to the warrior fairie to the bard to the troll. Calmer now that she had vented herself, she said, "I will suggest that at this point we all retire to the Twilight room, which has some semblance of shielding, so that we stop turning this establishment into a very large, tasty-looking heap of magebeast-bait. There, I will gladly tell all of you everything I know that may be of use, and you can fill in what I don't, and any more oddlings that show up can be directed to join us. There is something very unnatural going on tonight, and I want to hear everything that can be told before I'm up to my ears in something very nasty."

Shrugging her baldric over her shoulder, and sighing ruefully at her scraped knuckles, she stood, and stalked back towards a door with a deep blue mark painted thereon. Solarin rose as well, commenting dryly to the rest of the group, "She gets like this. One grows accustomed to it." He grinned, a quick flash of white teeth. "So. Would you all care to join us?"

Kathryn:
Fallenangel sat down at the indicated table with her bond-mate Isis and the young healer, (or not-so-young?) At closer inspection she looked very ageless....

"So you're a healer, then?" she commented, having noticed what the elven woman did to the tavern's patron's hand.

At precisely that moment, the beautiful music ended, and Fallenangel noticed the Bard rise and walk toward a corner of the tavern, where several black-clad people appeared to be in deep conversation, among whom were a troll, a princess, and a... pegasus?

:Don't even consider it,: Isis said, :That one's intelligent. Not you're run-of-the-mill horse.:

:You're right,: she answered, :and I think that princess is lucky to be able to ride a creature that flies.: Fallenangel smiled at the pegasus as she glanced their way. :Tell her that she'd better get the princess shielded quick; I noticed some unsavory elements that would love to get their hands on her Mage-power, back by the bar. Although, there seems to be enough Power in that corner to protect her, as long as she doesn't wander off.:

The exchange only took a second, and Fallenangel turned back to the healer as Isis relayed her message to the pegasus. "This is Isis; she's my bond-mate," Fallenangel explained, "You can go ahead and talk to her; she says that she's intelligent....although that's a matter of opinion." Isis snarled and swiped at her, causing several of the nearby tavern patrons to jump nervously.

"My name's Seashimmer Cowrie," the healer started, when suddenly there was a semi-loud exclamation from the table behind her.

"...Solaras, Siliel, and Selaena guide my soul--because the way this is going, in a few hours I'm not going to be needing it any more!" the woman finished, then suggested that they retire to the Twilight room.

Watching the woman stalk off at the head of the group, Fallenangel turned to Seashimmer. "Shall we? I think that at least one of the three of us could be considered an oddling...."

:Yes,: Isis reported, :And unfortunately I managed to Bond to that one.: She grinned, showing all her teeth.

Ignoring the panther's comment, Fallenangel turned back to the healer and waited.

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