City of Tears E-Book

F. P. Spirit

• Herausgeber: F. P. Spirit
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

A cursed city shrouded in mist. The power to level an army. A deadly race against demons to find it.

Five hundred years have passed since Naradon, the mad emperor, ruled over the world of Arinthar. Unknown to all but a few, the emperor left behind a deadly legacy-seven towers scattered across the globe, each with the power to lay waste to an army.

Now demons have crawled up from the Abyss and taken one of those towers, using its power to summon more of their brethren. To make matters worse, a second tower has been uncovered and the demons want that one, too.

Yet that tower will not be taken easily. Shrouded in mist, the ancient city surrounding that tower has fallen under a terrible curse. All who once lived there walk the earth as undead, including the mad emperor's wife.

Now a small band of heroes must enter the mists and wrest the tower from the empress of the damned and her undead army. For if they fail, the entire world is doomed to become hell on earth.
 

Leseprobe

City of Tears

Rise of the Thrall Lord

Book 1

F.P. Spirit

Copyright @ 2020 F. P. Spirit

Cover Art by Jackson Tjota

Cover Typography by Amalia Chitulescu

Interior Design by Designs by Shannon

Edited by Sandra Nguyen

ISBN 978-0-9984715-6-3

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

Thanks to Tim for creating the world of Thac, and to Daniel, Eric, Jeff, John, Mark, and Matt for their roles in bringing the characters to life. Also, thanks to the rest of my friends and family who gave their time and support in the creation of this book.

Other Books in this Series

City of Tears

Contents

Map of Arinthar

1. Best Laid Plans

2. Enmity of All Dragons

3. Big Things Come in Small Packages

4. Of Dukes and Demons

5. All's Faire in Love and War

6. Shades of the Past

7. Fortunes of Time

8. Lunch Date for Three

9. Demon Hunters

10. Dragonnapped

11. Welcoming Party

12. Wizards’ Brawl

13. Wild Dragon Chase

14. Captive Angel

15. The Seven Towers

16. Dark Seed

17. Cold Iron

18. Into the Mists

19. City of Tears

20. The Woman in Green

21. Empress of the Damned

22. Love at First Bite

23. Bridge Over Troubled Waters

24. Into the Marsh Tower

25. Cloudy with a Chance of Poison

26. Battle Over Black Lake

27. When It Rains, It Pours Arrows

28. Beauty is in the Eye

29. That Which Doesn't Kill Us

30. Till Death do us Part

Story Continues

Also by F.P.Spirit

About the Author

The mad emperor, Naradon, founded the third great human empire nearly five hundred years ago. Within a few decades, the great wizard-warrior had conquered most of the human world, his empire stretching from the isle of Thac to the Blasted Plains on the great continent of Laurentia. Ever paranoid, the mad conqueror then consulted with the all-seeing Oracle of Namlon about his future. That was the beginning of his downfall…

- Lady Lara Stealle, High Wizard of Penwick

1

Best Laid Plans

Some of us are happy just blowing things up

“Glolindir!”

The sound of his name broke the quiet of an otherwise peaceful midsummer morning. Sunrise came early this time of year, and the warm bliss of the rising sun had beckoned enticingly to Glo. He soon found himself on a soft plot of lush green grass in the courtyard of Vermoorden Keep. With a clear canopy of blue overhead and the songs of birds in the trees, the young elf had been lulled into a gentle meditative state. Yet those few moments of peace had been shattered all too soon.

Glo’s eyes fluttered open to settle on the Lady Andrella Avernos. The striking young woman stood at the top of the stairs to the keep, her eyes searching the wide courtyard. The daughter of former Baron and Baroness of Ravenford, Andrella was not your typical vapid noble. She had a keen intellect and the will to match.

After combing the yard for a few moments, her gaze finally settled upon Glo. “There you are!”

Andrella pushed back a lock of neatly arranged strawberry-blonde hair as she hastened down the stone steps of the keep. The long flowing skirt of her gold-laced scarlet dress swayed back and forth as she hurried across the grounds toward him.

Glo unfolded his long legs and stood up to his full six feet. The young elf was far above the average height for his race, a trait that seemed to run in his family. He brushed off his long purple robes and smiled at the approaching young woman. “Lady Andrella, to what do I owe the honor?”

Andrella peered up at him, her electric-blue eyes barely level with his chin. “I want to continue my training, of course.” She finished with a dazzling smile that lit up her entire face.

Glo let out a small laugh. “Oh, I see.”

A wizard by trade, Glo had been trained in the arcane arts by his temperamental father. Also a student of the arcane, Andrella’s studies had been cut short by her equally irritable master. Still, the young lady had talent and was not shy about using it. Thus, it had fallen on Glo to continue her training before she accidently hurt someone.

Before Glo could say another word, Andrella grabbed him by the hand and dragged him toward the training grounds. A wide swath of earth had been flattened in that area of the yard. A row of archery targets stood along the one side, while stout wooden training dummies sat at the other end.

Glo watched with a small sense of pride as Andrella began her lesson. Just as he had taught her, she smoothly gathered in mana, the life force that flows in and around all living things. The energy coalesced at her brow, the chakra gate for an arcane caster. In one fluid motion, she pointed at a practice dummy and brought her will to bear.

“Radius ardens.” The trigger words fell from her lips as a red-hot ray leapt from her fingertips. It struck the dummy straight in the chest, leaving a scorch mark. Though powerful, the Ray of Fire spell was rather simplistic. More complex spells required either a material focal object, or the tracing of intricate patterns through the air.

“Excellent.” Glo nodded his head in approval.

Andrella looked up at him, a wan smile across her lips. “Actually, I was aiming for its head.”

Glo inwardly winced. His own experiences had not been that smooth. After decades of tedious, repetitive study, the young elf had set out to wield magic in the real world. His father cautioned him before he left, but Glo had been too stubborn to listen. Since then, he had made more than his share of mistakes.

Andrella stood with her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed as she reviewed her performance aloud. “I emptied my mind, focused only on the spell, and targeted the dummy in one motion.” She bit her lip. “What am I missing?”

Glo chuckled softly. “You forgot to breathe.” It was a common mistake he had made quite often himself. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly as you aim.”

Andrella slapped herself on the forehead. “Duh. Of course.”

The young lady set her jaw as she faced the target dummy once more. Again she drew in mana through her brow, but Glo noted there was much more energy than before. He watched curiously as she let out a slow breath and raised her arm. “Radius ardens.”

Another red ray sped from her fingers, this time colliding with the dummy’s head. Flames erupted from the skull, and a moment later it fell off and hit the ground below. In mere seconds it had burnt to ash.

Glo arched a single eyebrow. He had seen her display this type of raw power before, but had only recently developed the sight to understand what lay behind it.

“I think we’ve got another pyromaniac on our hands,” a familiar voice drifted across the courtyard.

Glo nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun to see Seth Korzair resting comfortably against the trunk of a nearby tree. The halfling sat there casually twirling a short knife between his nimble fingers. Dressed almost completely in black, he had been difficult to spot in the dim shade around the tree trunk.

Seth peered over at Glo, the side of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

Glo let out a short sigh. Some of his worst mistakes had been more than a bit explosive. Seth took great pleasure in constantly reminding him of that.

Andrella, however, seemed completely unaffected by the halfling’s snarky tone. She spun about and gave him an unabashed smile. “Guess some of us have it and some of us don’t.”

Seth shrugged, not missing a beat. “True. Some of us are happy just blowing things up.”

“Alright, everyone. Play nice.”

A small, copper-haired figure clad in white robes now approached them from the direction of the keep. Aksel Alabaster, the young gnome and healer, wore an expression of exasperation. Aksel was the implicit leader of their group, his sense of practicality and concern for others making him a natural fit for the role.

“Yes, Dad,” Seth shot back, emphasizing the last word.

The jab brought a slight smile to Aksel’s face. The pair were like night and day. Where Aksel looked for the best in everyone, Seth saw only the worst. Yet somehow, these two had become the best of friends.

Ignoring Seth’s comment, Aksel addressed them all. “The Lady Gracelynn and Baron Gryswold are ready to see us.”

“It’s about time,” Seth grunted, the dagger disappearing from his hands as he pushed off the tree trunk and rose to his feet.

Andrella’s hands went to her hips, a frown forming across her brow. “What about Lloyd and the others?”

It came as no surprise to anyone that Andrella’s first thoughts would be of the young man. Despite all the hardships they had faced these last few months, Lloyd and Andrella had formed a close relationship. The thought stirred a brief pang of melancholy within Glo. He had also been in a relationship, but it ended as abruptly as it began.

“Donnie went to get them,” Aksel answered Andrella’s query.

“Tsk,” Seth clicked his tongue. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

Glo exchanged a nervous glance with Aksel. Seth was not altogether wrong. Sending Donnie after Lloyd, Elladan, and Kara was like throwing a lit torch into a pile of kindling.

Andrella started for the keep, nonchalantly waving off their concerns. “You worry too much. They’ve all matured these last few months, especially Lloyd.”

Seth’s eyes rolled to the heavens as she strode away. “Right,” he murmured under his breath, “and I’m the Queen of Lanfor.”

Lloyd Stealle sat in the midst of the tavern room at the House of Barmann. Though not fancy, it was a clean establishment, with a rustic décor and a dozen or so tables scattered about. Being the singular inn in the town, it was also the only place to sit back and have an ale or a meal out.

“That was quite a workout.”

Karathralla Brightwing sat across from the young man, her tall frame garbed in dark armor with polished, winged steel guards. She pushed back the ends of her long, braided flaxen hair, a lingering trace of excitement in her dark eyes.

The young spiritblade let out a deep breath. “You can say that again. I can’t tell if I’m more exhausted or hungry.”

Sparring with Kara had been exhilarating. An adept warrior, she matched him blow for blow despite his rigorous training. As a spiritblade, Lloyd had learned the disciplines of both mind and body, and mastered multiple weapons. Yet what truly set spiritblades apart was their ability to enhance their battle prowess by tapping into their inner spirit.

Without warning, a rather loud grumble emanated from Lloyd’s abdomen.

Kara exhaled a short laugh. “Heh. I think your stomach just answered for you.” The lady warrior half-turned in her seat and called out across the room, “Elladan, you better hurry with that food before Lloyd here passes out from starvation!”

Up at the bar stood a young elf dressed all in white, except for brown leather boots and the green cloak draped across his shoulders. Elladan spun about and rubbed a hand through his jet-black hair as a half-smile graced his handsome face. “Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, now.”

As if by magic, a golden-brown lute suddenly appeared in the elf’s hands. “Maybe some music will take your mind off your hunger?” He strummed a few chords, filling the room with a lively tune.

Elladan was a bard, a consummate entertainer as well as a stalwart ally. Able to lace his songs with magic, he proved to be an invaluable asset both on and off the battlefield.

Still, Elladan’s attempt at levity made Lloyd feel all the more self-conscious. A sheepish grin spread across the young man’s face, his hand going to the back of his neck. “That’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Abruptly, an even louder grumble escaped from Lloyd’s midsection. Elladan let out a hearty laugh. “I think your stomach begs to differ.”

Lloyd felt the blood rush to his cheeks when a new voice sounded from the tavern entrance. “Why don’t you mind your own business, elf.”

Lloyd immediately sat up his hunger all but forgotten. In the doorway stood five armored men wearing all-too-familiar powder-blue tabards. The sight made Lloyd bristle.

Kara narrowed her eyes at the newcomers. “Who are these buffoons?”

“Dunwynners,” Lloyd responded through gritted teeth.

“What’s their problem with Elladan?” she whispered.

“They’re xenophobes,” Lloyd responded, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet.

Kara joined him as the five Dunwynn soldiers advanced to the bar to confront Elladan.

“Who said you could talk to humans?” the same soldier continued to harass the bard.

Elladan put his hands up in a peaceful gesture and replied to the man in a calm voice. “Now, I’m not looking for any trouble, friend. Let me buy you all a beer.”

Elladan reached into his pocket, pulled out a few silver pieces, and placed them on the bar. “Glami, how about a round for these fine gentlemen?”

The Dunwynners shifted their focus to the short, squat, dark-bearded dwarf who stood behind the bar. Glami stopped cleaning the glass in his hand and stared back at them wide-eyed.

Without a word, the lead man reached over and swatted Elladan’s coins off of the smooth surface and onto the wooden floor. He sneered at them both. “We don’t accept money or drinks from non-human scum.”

Lloyd had heard more than enough. Already on the move, he drew up next to Elladan and casually laid his hands on the hilts of the swords strapped to his waist. “Then I suggest you turn around and ride on out of here while you still can.”

The Dunwynn soldiers turned their gaze on him. At six-foot-two, Lloyd stood a nearly a head taller than most of the men. The lead man looked him up and down, taking in the crimson armor that covered his torso, arms, and legs.

“Ah, a Penwick mongrel,” he snorted with clear disdain. He motioned to the men behind him. “Maybe you want to check again, but we’ve got you outnumbered five to one.”

“Make that five to two.” Kara strode up next to Lloyd, her spear held in a deceptively casual grip.

The Dunwynn soldier leered as he gave Kara the once-over. “Maybe you’d like to try a real man, honey, instead of these boys and elves.”

Lloyd nearly drew his blades when a familiar voice sounded from the doorway. “And maybe you should learn some manners.”

Lloyd peered past the men to see Donatello standing in the doorway. Clad in a puffy white shirt, brown vest, pants, and boots, the sandy-haired elf leaned nonchalantly against the door jamb.

One of the soldiers scoffed as he spun to face him. “Another elf? This place is lousy with them.”

The man beside him elbowed him with a wicked grin. “Good thing we know how to exterminate pests.”

Lloyd had reached his limit. His prior encounters with Dunwynners had proved equally insufferable. There was just no reasoning with their bigotry. Without another word, he stepped forward and swung a huge fist at the lead soldier. The man managed to dodge the blow, but got caught by the follow-up jab Lloyd aimed at his jaw.

The man’s head snapped back, his entire body propelled backwards into his fellow soldiers. Three of them struggled to catch their companion, barely managing not to fall over. The lead man rubbed a hand across his mouth, his lip bleeding and beginning to swell.

“You’ll pay for that, whelp!” he declared hotly.

As the five soldiers drew their swords, Lloyd, Kara and Donnie did the same. Not a fighter, Elladan leapt behind the bar as his three companions spread out, prepared for battle.

One soldier went after Donnie, but the elf proved too quick. He tumbled beneath the man’s blade, sprang up, and vaulted onto a nearby table.

“You’ll have to do better than that!” Donnie taunted.

Angered, the soldier swiped wildly at Donnie’s legs, but again the elf proved too agile. He leapt straight up, the sword swishing under him, then lashed out with a fierce kick that caught his attacker in the jaw. The soldier’s head cracked back as he went sprawling onto the tavern floor.

At the same time, two soldiers attacked Kara. Unfortunately for them, they vastly underestimated the lady warrior’s strength. Kara caught both blades on her spear and with a huge shove sent the men reeling backwards.

One of the soldiers ended up against the bar. Elladan took advantage of the situation, scooping up a pitcher of ale and slamming it down on the man’s head. The glass shattered, ale spilling all over him as he crumpled to the ground, out cold.

Elladan chortled with glee. “Bartender, I think we need another round.”

“Coming right up!” Glami replied merrily.

Meanwhile, the lead soldier merely watched on as the last man launched himself at Lloyd. Lloyd easily parried the man’s blade, but did not strike back. When the soldier lunged at him a second time, he overextended himself. Lloyd moved smoothly out the way and chopped down on the man’s neck with the pommel of his sword. The soldier collapsed from the blow and did not rise again.

Lloyd turned his attention to the lead soldier. “I thought you were going to make me pay?”

The man’s face reddened with anger.

“Why you…” Words failed him as he charged forward to take on the spiritblade.

Across the room, Donnie had leapt down and disarmed his stunned opponent. He held the tip of his blade to the man’s throat as he slowly rose. “I think you should leave now.”

“Y—yes sir,” the soldier stammered as Donnie escorted him at blade-point to the door.

Near the bar, Kara engaged her second attacker. The man swiped at her, but she easily parried with her spear. He lunged at her next, but she pushed his blade aside and in one swift follow-up motion broke his nose with the blunt end of her weapon.

Stunned, the man dropped his sword and fell to his knees holding his nose in both hands.

Elladan, ever the gentleman, threw a bar towel to the bloodied soldier. The soldier grabbed the towel and peered at the elf in disbelief.

Elladan shrugged and gave him a half-smile. “I figured you need it more than I do.”

At the same time, the lead soldier attacked Lloyd. Even angered, this man was a bit more seasoned than his compatriots. His slices were calculated, not overextended, and he even tried a feint or two. Still, in the end he was no match for the spiritblade. Lloyd caught his sword in a counter-parry and sent it flying across the room.

The haughty Dunwynner stepped back and gazed all around him. His men were all either down or gone. Shoring up his pride, he shook his fist at Lloyd. “You’ve messed with the wrong people. You’ll rue the day you tangled with Dunwynn.”

Behind him, Donnie laughed. “Friend, you are way out of your league.” He nodded toward Lloyd. “You’re looking at the man who bested Sir Fafnar.”

The blood drained from the Dunwynner’s face. He peered back at Lloyd and gulped, his bravado suddenly gone. “Y—you’re the one that beat Lord Strakentir?”

“Guilty as charged.” Lloyd would have felt sorry for him if he wasn’t such an insufferable prick. He advanced on the man and glared down at him. “Now maybe next time you’ll think twice about bullying folks from other races.”

“Y—yes sir.” The Dunwynn soldier gulped again. He took a couple of steps backwards and peered around at his fallen men. The two who had been knocked out began to rise. The third still knelt on the ground holding his broken nose.

“Get up!” he growled at them. “Get up and get out of here you disgraces to the Dunwynn army.”

Lloyd, Kara, and Donnie escorted the soldiers to the door. Elladan joined them as they went outside and watched from the porch. The soldiers slowly mounted their horses, trotted off the tavern grounds, and turned north up the road.

Elladan placed his hands on Lloyd’s and Kara’s shoulders. “Well, that taught them a nice little lesson.”

Lloyd shrugged. “I doubt it will stick.”

Kara snorted derisively. “At least they’ll be licking their wounds for a while.”

“Probably headed back to Ravenford to do just that,” Donnie noted glibly.

“Yeah, we need to do something about Ravenford.” Lloyd sighed. They had accomplished so much these last few months, but in the midst of it all, the town of Ravenford had fallen under Dunwynn control.

“Not to mention that tower full of demons,” Kara added grimly.

Donnie abruptly slapped himself on the forehead. “Oops, in all the ruckus, I nearly forgot. I was supposed to tell you all the Baron and Baroness are waiting for us up at the keep.”

Lloyd exchanged a glance with Elladan and Kara. They were all a bit mussed from their altercation with the soldiers. “I don’t think we’re exactly presentable at the moment.”

Elladan gave them a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure they’ll be fine when they hear we cleaned up another Dunwynn mess.”

The four of them laughed as they started up the road together toward the keep.

Glo, Andrella, Aksel, and Seth waited for the others in the main hall of the keep. A long room with a vaulted ceiling and thick columns along its length, the décor here was rather gaudy. A remnant of the recently deposed mayor, there hadn’t been time to change it as of yet.

They had only been waiting a short while when the front doors to the keep swung open. “I’m tellin’ ya, yer aim could be better,” a voice wafted in from the foyer.

A moment later, Kalyn Rahn and Martan Folke entered the main hall. Garbed in forest green and browns, the pair were expert trackers and archers. The long-brown-haired man held a brace of rabbits in one hand while stroking his close-cropped beard in the other. His expression was decidedly gloomy. “I don’t know as I’ll ever be as good as you.”

Kalyn held a similar catch in her hands. She paused to adjust the loose braids of her long, wavy, reddish-brown hair, then her storm-gray eyes fixed on Martan. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that.”

Glo traded a knowing smile with Andrella. The duo had a long, tumultuous history, and as such, Kalyn never went easy on poor Martan.

He opened his mouth to greet the pair when another voice interrupted them.

“The Lady Gracelynn and Lord Gryswold will see you now.”

A tall man with long blond hair and the hint of a beard had entered the hall from the other end. It was Captain Ascue, the head of the Vermoorden town guard. Ascue was rather young for the position. He had been installed by the former mayor, a corrupt woman who preferred someone with little experience. Still, he appeared to know his own shortcomings and was open to suggestions.

Kalyn held up her hands to the Captain, displaying her catch of the day. “I was sort of plannin’ to drop this off in the kitchen first.”

“I’ll take them,” Martan offered with more enthusiasm than usual. The tracker had his run-ins with nobility in the past, and thus tended to shy away from these types of meetings.

Kalyn put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Oh, no ya don’t. Yer going this time and sittin’ through the whole thing.”

Martan’s face fell. Before he could respond, however, the front door opened once more. Lloyd, Elladan, Donnie, and Kara entered the main hall, all looking rather disheveled.

“Told you so,” Seth snickered.

Andrella gave him a dark look, then went to meet them. Mixed emotions played across her face as she looked over Lloyd’s dirt covered armor. “What happened?”

“We had a run-in with a bunch of Dunwynn toadies,” Elladan explained before Lloyd could respond.

“You pummeled a bunch of Dunnies and didn’t invite me?” Kalyn drawled. “Darn! I always miss out on the fun.”

Elladan gave the tracker a sideways grin before relaying the full tale of their altercation with the bigoted soldiers. From the sounds of it, it didn’t last very long.

Even so, the story brought up painful memories for Glo. Their previous run-ins with Dunwynners hadn’t been pleasant. Xenophobia seemed to be embedded deep into their culture, fostered by the Duke himself.

When Elladan finished, Andrella relented. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t be helped,” she looked Lloyd up and down, “but we’ll need to do something about your clothes.”

She traced a simple symbol through the air, snapped her fingers, and spoke the words, “Parva Magicae.”

Glo watched the mana release from the symbol and flow all around Lloyd. Within a few moments, his armor had been completely cleaned. Even his shock of tousled brown hair had fallen neatly into place.

Lloyd gave her a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

Glo was impressed. Again, it was a simple spell, but she had executed it like a pro. While he and Andrella cleaned up the rest of them, Ascue had a servant take the catch from Kalyn and Martan.

Afterwards, Ascue addressed the group. “I trust we are ready now?”

Aksel took a quick glance around the room before answering for them all. “We are.”

Ascue gave him a firm nod, spun on his heel, and motioned them forward. “Then follow me.”

The captain led them through the back hall and into the throne room beyond. Another room with a vaulted ceiling, it was not as large as the main hall, but the décor here was no less gaudy.

Ascue ushered them to a side chamber off the throne room. A large wooden table took up most of the space in that chamber. Twelve chairs had been fit around it, though it appeared rather cramped.

The Lady Gracelynn Avernos and her husband, Gryswold, stood as the companions entered the room. A tall woman, Gracelynn was the very picture of elegance. Dressed in an immaculate light blue gown, her long chestnut hair was perfectly arranged in a tight braid.

The former Baroness of Ravenford and sister to the Duke of Dunwynn, Gracelynn carried the distinct air of nobility. Nonetheless, she had a gentle heart and treated everyone she met with kindness and respect. Lady Gracelynn’s amber eyes flashed with warmth as they entered the room. “Friends, dear daughter, welcome. Please excuse the cramped accommodations.”

Gryswold, the former Baron of Ravenford, stood just behind his wife. A powerfully built man, his dark hair and beard were tinged with just a hint of gray. More of a fighter than a noble, Gryswold wore modest finery of a military cut. “Unfortunately, this room is not quite as big as the one back home.”

Glo studied Gryswold closely as everyone found a seat. He still looked a bit pale—a side effect, he supposed, of recently having been revived from the dead.

The former baron had been murdered a little more than a month ago, and the Duke used the opportunity to seize both his sister and Ravenford. Glo and the others followed a perilous trail to save Gryswold and Gracelynn. Somehow they managed to succeed, despite the odds being stacked against them.

Once everyone was seated, the Lady Gracelynn swept her eyes around the room. An instinctive diplomat, she immediately noticed Martan’s discomfort.

Gracelynn gave him a warm smile. “Welcome, Goodman Martan. It is nice to finally see you at one of these proceedings.”

Martan’s face flushed bright red. He shot up out of his seat, nearly knocking his chair over as he attempted an awkward bow. “It’s… good to be here… your ladyship.”

Kalyn caught his chair and grabbed him by the arm. “For gods’ sake, Martan, sit yer hiney down.”

Soft laughter erupted around the table as the embarrassed archer reseated himself. Lady Gracelynn then continued.

“As you already know, things here in Vermoorden seem to be well in hand. I have agreed to oversee the town until a new election can be held.”

With the corrupt mayor gone, the running of the town had fallen to Captain Ascue. With no experience in such matters, the captain had turned to the Avernoses for help. Due to the law of the land, Gryswold could no longer hold a ruling position, but Gracelynn was more than capable.

Gracelynn pressed her hands together, her expression growing hard. “Yet that still leaves us with the issue of what to do about Ravenford.”

Gryswold cleared his throat. “No disrespect, my love, but your brother is an obstinate prick. Once he gets his hands on a town, he never lets go. Look at what happened to poor Karajon.”

Dunwynn was one of the largest cities in northeast Thac, with a formidable army to match its great size. Yet that didn’t seem enough for the Duke. He had extended his influence to a number of towns neighboring Dunwynn, with Ravenford being the latest in that long line of acquisitions. Glo suspected the Duke’s expansionist policy was an attempt to create a buffer between himself and the rest of the world.

“Baron Gryswold is right.” Lloyd agreed, his voice filled with more than a trace of anger. Lloyd disliked the Duke even more than the rest of them. He was from the city of Penwick, Dunwynn’s rival to the south.

“Not Baron anymore,” Gryswold corrected him.

A pained expression momentarily crossed the young man’s face. Gryswold was also originally from Penwick; in fact, his brother was the baron of the city. Furthermore, he was old friends with Lloyd’s mother and father. Thus, a bond had developed between the two that made Lloyd feel responsible for all that had befallen the older man. “Right. Sorry.”

“Please continue on, Lloyd,” Gracelynn encouraged him.

“Well, I was thinking that we could petition Penwick for their help in freeing Ravenford.”

Gryswold made a sour face at the notion. “My brother wouldn’t have the spine to take a stand against the Duke.”

Andrella grabbed Lloyd by the hand to get his attention. “You weren’t thinking of asking the baron, were you?”

Lloyd slowly shook his head. “No, I agree with your father. Baron Avernos would never put himself out like that. I was actually thinking of asking Lord Hightower to intercede on our behalf.”

Lord Lagerie Hightower was the Penwick liaison to Lukescros. Lukescros was a neutral city with representatives from all over the world of Arinthar, including Dunwynn, and even the country of Lanfor.

Andrella grabbed Lloyd by the arm, her eyes brightening. “Well, I think it’s a marvelous idea!”

Gracelynn and Gryswold shared a contemplative glance.

“He was quite helpful to us last time we were in Lukescros,” Glo added, to bolster Lloyd’s suggestion.

Gryswold tilted his head to one side. “Lagerie is an old friend of mine as well as Lloyd’s family. He was never shy about taking a stand.”

Gracelynn’s expression visibly relaxed. “Well then, all things considered, we will contact Lord Hightower, as you suggest.”

Elladan rapped his knuckles on the table. “Begging your pardon, Lady Gracelynn.”

Gracelynn turned her attention to the elven bard. “Yes, Elladan?”

“Since this is such a sensitive subject, I was thinking it might be best if we meet with Lord Hightower in person.”

Gracelynn placed a finger on her chin and began to tap it slowly. She traded a furtive glance with Gryswold. The former baron signaled his agreement.

“Very well,” Gracelynn responded, sweeping her eyes around the table. “Who should go, then, on this diplomatic mission?”

Lloyd shot up out of his seat. “Andrella and I should go. We were the ones who first met with Lord Hightower.”

“Plus, he likes me!” Andrella grinned as she stood up and wrapped her hands around Lloyd’s arm.

“I think the entire group should go.” Aksel also rose to his feet, speaking for the first time since they had all sat down. “We may have some unfinished business in Lukescros.”

“You mean with Anya?” Donnie eyed Elladan impishly.

Elladan’s eyes darkened. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that witch’s name.”

A puzzled look crossed Gracelynn’s face. “Did something happen with the princess in Lukescros?”

Glo chuckled softly to himself. On their first meeting with the Princess Anya of Lanfor, she had turned Elladan into a fluffy little bunny. It had been a sore subject for the elven bard ever since.

“It’s nothing to worry about, your ladyship,” Glo interjected before anyone else had a chance to speak. “But I believe Aksel is right. It might be best if we go to visit Lukescros as a group.”

“I’ll definitely join you.” Kara stood up and placed her hands on the table in front of her. “I would like to also petition Penwick’s help with the demon tower. I understand your concern with your hometown, but be assured that the demons are a threat to your entire world.”

Aksel met Kara’s gaze evenly. “Anya aside, that’s actually what I was referring to when I said we had other business in Lukescros.”

“Oh. Fine, then.” Kara sat back down and elbowed Donnie in the side.

“What was that for?” Donnie yelped, nearly jumping out of his seat.

“For making me look like an idiot.” Kara chastised him, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.

“Tsk,” Seth clicked his tongue in disdain. “Don’t worry. Donnie’s got a lock on that title.” He turned his attention to Aksel before Donnie could retort. “Anyway, you all go ahead. I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on things.”

Aksel’s hand went to his chin. He stroked it for a moment before responding. “That’s probably a good idea. Someone else should probably stay with you, though.”

“I’ll take Martan,” Seth replied before anyone else could make a suggestion.

Martan had been slouching in his chair, keeping quiet since his earlier debacle. The dour archer now sank even lower into his seat.

Kalyn, in contrast, sat up and blurted, “So, when do the rest of us…”

“I think Kalyn should stay as well!” Andrella burst out before she could finish.

Glo had a hard time suppressing his laughter. Andrella had been trying to play matchmaker between Martan and Kalyn ever since she found out the two had a history.

Kalyn stared at Andrella with daggers in her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“Well, that’s settled, then,” Gracelynn said, clapping her hands together and recalling everyone’s attention to the head of the table. “Masters Seth and Martan and Mistress Kalyn will stay here in Vermoorden with Gryswold and myself. The rest of you will head to Lukescros to request the aid of Lord Lagerie Hightower in our effort to free Ravenford…”

She paused a moment and dipped her chin toward Kara. “…and to seek his advice on dealing with these demons.”

Kara roused herself from her prior embarrassment and gave the lady a grateful look in return.

Gracelynn then fixed her gaze on Aksel. “When do you think you’ll be ready to leave?”

Aksel cocked his head to one side and mulled it over for a moment. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t leave this morning. The trip to Lukescros is only a day’s ride by horse.”

A warm smile spread across the Lady Gracelynn’s lips. “Very good. We’ll have Captain Ascue set you up with whatever you need for the journey.” She swept her eyes around the table one last time. “And may the gods watch over all of us.”

2

Enmity of All Dragons

Legend has it that the Titans made them to control dragons

The now-dead mayor of Vermoorden had actually been the head of an assassin’s guild—the same guild that murdered Gryswold. Seth had been the one to track them to their lair in a hidden labyrinth beneath Vermoorden Keep. Together, the companions cleared out the assassins’ nest and recovered the Baron’s heart. Still, something didn’t sit right with Seth. He had the distinct feeling that they’d missed something important.

So while the others got ready to leave, Seth decided to take another look. He hurried through the keep, past the kitchen, and down a flight of stone stairs to the basement. At the bottom stood a steel-framed door barring the entrance to the former assassin’s lair.

A huge padlock had been affixed to a long steel bolt set across the door, but locks had never been a problem for Seth. Lock-picking was one of the few useful skills he had learned from his family.

Seth came from a long line of thieves and charlatans. By the time he was five, he had already learned to pick his first lock. At the age of ten, he could unlock any door and most safes.

The lock on this particular door was a standard pin-and-tumbler. It took him all of ten seconds to fiddle with it before the tumblers clicked into place.

“Child’s play,” Seth muttered to no one in particular.

The halfling stealthily entered the labyrinth and crept through the pitch-black halls. He had no need for light. His race was perfectly capable of seeing in the dark, at least to some degree. What he couldn’t see, he made up for through years of training his other senses.

Silence filled the empty corridors. The air felt chilled, with just a hint of dampness. Seth kept a hand on the wall, the stone remaining cool to his touch. The further he traveled into the underground maze, the more surreal it felt. It was as if he had entered an eerie dimension devoid of light and sound.

Seth had memorized this maze on their last visit. Yet distances meant little when you could only see a few feet in front of you. Changes in the flow of air told him when a cross-corridor or doorway was near. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he reached his destination—a hidden temple within the labyrinth.

On his last visit, the flames from a pair of giant urns had painted the chamber blood-red. Now the temple was completely dark. Seth picked his way through a dozen pews to the front of the temple. A long altar stood in front of him. As he circled around it, something tall and dark suddenly loomed over him.

Seth started for a moment until he realized what it was. It’s only that stupid demon statue.

In the darkness, he could just barely make out its features. From the waist up, it appeared to be a beautiful woman with long flowing hair. Yet from the waist down it melded into the thick coils of a giant snake. Six arms sprang from its torso, each holding a large sword.

The statue depicted a maralith, a demon from the Abyss. More specifically, it portrayed Salisma Tanj, the driving force behind both the Assassin’s Guild and the Serpent Cult. A powerful demon, Salisma had been a lieutenant of the Thrall Lord himself over a century ago.

Glo and the others thought that her involvement in this implied the return of the Thrall Lord. Seth wasn’t ready to buy that just yet. In his experience, evil came in many forms, not just uber-magicians bent on world domination.

Still, as naïve as they could be, Seth had developed a soft spot for the rest of his companions. After all, someone with brains has to watch out for them.

The halfling felt his way behind the statue to a hidden corridor they had discovered on their last visit. As soon as he entered, the sound of scraping metal reached his ears.

Figures.

The guild had hidden its greatest treasures in a large chest at the end of this corridor. So of course they had filled it with every kind of trap imaginable. What he was hearing now was one of those traps. He figured it would have stopped by now. He figured wrong.

With a short sigh, Seth unslung his pack, pulled out a torch, and lit it. Three tall, spinning spikes with razor-sharp blades at various levels stuck out from the floor ahead of him. The ceiling and sidewalls were lined with spikes as well. Together, they made it almost impossible to pass to the other end of the corridor. Almost.

Seth eyed the blades. The first two were clearly visible in the torchlight. The last one was a bit outside the range of the torchlight. He knelt down and peered below the blades. There’s just enough room…

Seth pitched the torch along the ground beneath the first spike. It continued to roll and made it past the second spike. It stopped rolling almost exactly between the second and third.

Nice.

All three spikes now sat in the bright circle of the torchlight.

Seth stood up and watched the blades for a few moments before launching himself into their midst. Once again it was a crazy dance down that hallway, but he got through the first two with just a few minor nicks.

He paused between the last two sets of spinning blades and kicked the torch past the third one. Seth then hurled himself at the last set of spinning blades. He came out on the other side with another couple of nicks and cuts, but nothing a quick heal wouldn’t fix.

Around the corner sat the blank wall where they’d found the chest with the baron’s heart. Seth picked up the torch, then went to that wall and felt around it. He’d been so obsessed with the trap on the chest that he hadn’t given this wall a second thought. Now, however, he discovered a slight indentation underneath one of the stones.

Seth pushed on it, and a small section of the wall swung outward. In a tiny alcove inside the wall sat a small ornate box.

Just what I thought.

Well, not exactly what he thought, but he knew something was there.

Seth carefully scanned the alcove, but spotted no sign of wires, or pressure plates, or anything. He gently reached in and pulled out the small box, ready to duck for cover at a moment’s notice. Luckily, nothing happened.

Seth now held the ornate box in his hand. He looked it over on all sides: top, bottom, left, right. A fancy sigil in the shape of an ‘M’ was inscribed across the top and sides, but he found no signs of any sort of trap. He peered into the lock, but couldn’t find even the slightest hint of a booby-trap.

This is too easy.

As paranoid as the assassins had been, it did not make sense that they would not booby-trap this thing. That left only one other possibility—there had to be some sort of spell on it.

Seth let out a deep sigh. I guess I’ll have to bring it to Glo.

He hated having to depend on the wizard’s magic, but in this case there was no help for it.

Seth tucked the box underneath his vest and prepared for the crazy dance back through the blades.

Glo and Elladan had just finished packing when Seth entered their room on the second floor of the keep. He briefly explained to them how he found the box he now held in his hand.

“…and this was behind the wall where the chest had been?” Elladan narrowed his eyes with skepticism.

“What was behind what wall?” Aksel now stood in the open doorway behind them.

“It appears that Seth found more treasure down in the temple beneath the keep,” Elladan drawled, with just a touch of amusement in his voice.

Aksel cocked his head to one side and peered at Seth quizzically. “What made you go back down there?”

Seth merely shrugged. “A hunch.”

Glo bent down and stared at the box in Seth’s hands, a single eyebrow raised. “I’ve seen that sigil before—it belongs to Maltar.”

Maltar was the foul-tempered town wizard of Ravenford. A onetime adventuring companion of Gryswold, he had given the companions their first quest—map out the old ruins up on Stone Hill.

Aksel stepped forward for a closer look at the sigil. “Are you sure?”

Glo responded with a curt nod. “I’d recognize that mark anywhere. I spent more time than I cared to in Maltar’s home.”

Through an odd set of circumstances that Seth might have had a small hand in, Glo ended up as Maltar’s apprentice. It was not something either of them liked to talk about.

Elladan wore a perplexed expression. “How in Thac did the assassins' guild end up with Maltar’s chest”—he stopped and abruptly snapped his fingers—“unless they stole it from his home when they raided it.”

Maltar disappeared from Ravenford shortly before the Serpent Cult attacked the town. When Seth and the others searched his place, they found a gruesome scene—a number of dead bodies, including a couple of assassins.

“That would make the most sense,” Aksel agreed.

“Perhaps,” Glo murmured softly, not looking completely convinced.

Seth had his doubts as well, but at the moment it made little difference.

Glo shook off his pained expression and turned his attention back to Seth. “Well if you want, I can check it for spells.”

Seth gave him a deadpan stare. “I didn’t exactly come here for my health.”

“No, I’d imagine you’d go to Aksel for that,” Glo retorted without looking at him.

Seth nearly snorted out loud. Did Glo just make a joke?

The elven wizard pulled out a small vial of reddish liquid from a pouch at his belt. He unstopped the vial and took a sip of the contents. The wizard then held his hand over the box and uttered a single word, “Eandem.”

A faint glow appeared around the box but quickly faded. Glo stared intently at the box, his brow furrowed with concentration. After a few moments, his eyes went wide. “Oh yes, there’s definitely a trap on this box. A ball of fire, if I’m seeing it correctly. A fairly complex one at that.”

The wizard cast a meaningful glance at Aksel. “It would take a pretty high-order dispel magic to counteract it.”

Aksel thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. “Can’t hurt to try, I guess.”

The little cleric closed his eyes and placed his hands over the diamond-shaped emblem on his chest—the symbol of his goddess. After a few moments, his eyes snapped open. He held his hands out over the box and spoke two soft words. “Nullam depelle.”

A circle of violet light appeared around the box, but immediately faded.

Aksel let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, so much for that.”

“Oh well, on to plan B, then.” Seth spun on his heel and exited through the door before anyone could question him.

“Wait, what’s plan B?” he heard Aksel calling after him.

Seth marched out into the courtyard with the ornate box still in his hands. Aksel, Glo, and Elladan trailed behind him. They had also picked up Donnie, Kara, Lloyd, Andrella, Kalyn, and Martan on the way down.

Seth halted at the top of the steps and glanced at his unwanted entourage. “Stay back here.”

Donnie eyed him with more than a little concern. “What are you going to do?”

“Somethin’ stupid, I reckon’,” Kalyn answered for him.

Seth's mouth twisted to one side. “Exactly.”

The halfling sped down the steps and out toward the training area. A few guards were getting in their morning practice, but stopped what they were doing when they saw Seth.

“You might want to clear out of here,” he told them all as he sped past.

The guards didn’t question him.

When Seth reached the center of the training area, he placed the box on the ground. After a quick glance to make sure he was alone, he began to fiddle with the lock. It only took a few seconds before he heard an audible click.

Seth immediately somersaulted away, tucking and rolling as he hit the ground. Behind him he heard a loud explosion accompanied by cries of alarm. He pulled his cloak over his face just as a wave of searing heat passed over him. It only lasted for a few moments, then was gone.

Seth stood back up. A melted slag of gold metal now sat where the box had been. A patch of scorched earth surrounded it on all sides.

The explosion had been rather loud. Lady Gracelynn and Gryswold suddenly appeared on an upstairs balcony. “What’s going on down there?”

Elladan glanced up at them with a wry expression. “Seth’s just playing with fire is all.”

Gryswold peered back down at the gathering, and with a straight face said, “Well, can he be a bit more quiet about it? That was loud enough to wake the dead.”

“Father!” Andrella cried, her face going ashen.

Gracelynn smacked her husband on the arm. “Gryswold, that wasn’t funny.”

Gryswold looked from his wife to his daughter with an apologetic smile. “Too soon?”

Seth snorted with more than a touch of mirth. First Glo and now the baron? What is this day?

The others joined him as Seth slowly approached the center of the burnt area. He fully expected that the contents of the box would have been destroyed by the blast. What he did not expect to see was the glowing crystal ball that sat in the middle of the melted slag. About the size of a large fist, the crystal was clear except for the insignia of a blue dragon in its very center.

Everyone gathered around to stare at the unexpected find. Kara moved a bit closer, her eyes wide. From the look on her face, it appeared she recognized the orb.

Donnie must have noticed it as well. He nudged the warrior woman gently. “Do you know what that is?”

“A dragon crystal.” Kara said, her voice quite soft, as if in awe. “I thought they were only a myth.”

Andrella wore a puzzled expression. “What’s a dragon crystal?”

Kara seemed entranced by the orb. Elladan had drawn up next to her. He appeared equally enthralled, but still managed to answer her question. “Legend has it that the Titans made them to control dragons—one for each color.”

Seth let out a low whistle. After Maltar’s disappearance, they discovered he had been dabbling in the dark arts and collecting objects of power. This blue dragon orb was obviously one of them.

Donnie knelt down for a closer look. “So I take it this one is to control blue dragons?”

“Yes,” Kara responded, her eyes still transfixed by the orb.

Glo knelt down next to Donnie and narrowed his eyes at the glowing crystal. “I think I’ve read something about them. Wasn’t there some kind of catch to them?”

Elladan let out a derisive snort. “Heh. You could say that. If you possess it, no dragon of that color can harm you. However, you gain the enmity of all other dragons for all time.”

A wry smile spread across Seth’s lips. “Handy if you don’t mind having every non-blue dragon in the world hating your guts.”

Aksel continued to stare at the orb, his mouth pressing into an upside-down smile. “I suppose the point would be to gather all of the stones before using them.”

The companions waited for the slag to cool down, then Seth cautiously picked it up. “So what are we going to do with this thing?”

Aksel gently stroked his chin, his eyes remaining fixed on the orb. “I think it best if we put it somewhere safe for now.”

Lloyd squinted at the orb in Seth’s hand. “I don’t like the idea of leaving something like that here with Lady Gracelynn and Baron Gryswold.”

Andrella brushed up next to Lloyd and also stared at the orb. “I quite agree. If someone like my uncle were to find out about it, he might invade this town, too.”

Elladan pulled out a nondescript gray bag from his belt. “I could put it in my portal bag for now.”

Portal bags were small enough to carry on your person. However, they connected to another plane of existence and could store far more inside than it appeared from the outside.

Aksel’s eyes brightened as he exchanged a knowing glance with the bard. “Probably a good idea for the time being.

It had been mid-morning when the companions set out on the south road to Lukescros. The dusty streets of Vermoorden soon disappeared behind them, along with the shimmering waters of Lake Strikken, which bordered the town.

A section of the Old Knight’s Road, the south road had stood here since the old days when Thac was still quite young. Ancient spells kept the cobblestones clear and smooth. Not even grass grew near the edge.

Lush green plains spread as far to the west as the eye could see. They continued on maybe a dozen miles to the east, where they met a set of low-rising peaks. It was a small chain called the Altanorsas that stretched to Colossus Point on the coast.

Aksel rode ahead of the others, mounted on a dog specifically bred for smaller riders. The rest of them rode along in pairs: Lloyd with Andrella, Donnie alongside Kara, and Glo next to Elladan. The bard augmented their conversation with a variety of songs. He seemed to have an endless supply, never playing the same one twice unless it had been specifically requested.

“I know it’s only been a few days since we were last in Lukescros, but it seems like forever,” Andrella confided as she rode beside him.

Lloyd chuckled at her confession. “I know what you mean. It feels like even longer since I first traveled up this road to Ravenford.”

A few months ago, Lloyd had left his home to make his own way in the world. It had not been an easy decision. His whole life had been in Penwick. In fact, his family was a cornerstone of the city.

Andrella reached over and grabbed him by the hand. “Well, I for one, am glad you did.”

Lloyd smiled back at vibrant young lady. “Me too—though I think the decision took my family by surprise.”

Lloyd’s father had led the fight against the pirate clans that had invaded Penwick twenty years ago. He was now admiral of the Royal Navy and a member of the city council. He also founded an academy where most of the city military learned the art of the spiritblade.

Lloyd’s mother fought beside her husband during the invasion. Now the High Wizard of Penwick, she also sat on the city council and formed her own institute, the Hault School of Magic.

An understanding smile crossed Andrella’s face. “Let me guess—they wanted you to follow in their footsteps.”

Lloyd had studied at the Stealle Academy and earned the title of spiritblade. Everyone naturally assumed he would next enlist in the navy. His brother had done both. His sister had been on that path as well, but after a life-altering event, chose to go her way. Her decision had inspired Lloyd to do the same.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have learned half as much as I have in these last few months,”—a shy smile spread across Lloyd’s face— “nor would I have met you.”

Andrella’s eyes twinkled with delight. “Why, Lloyd Stealle, that was the perfect thing to say. Have you been taking lessons from Donnie and Elladan?”

“We might have given him a few pointers here and there,” Donnie called from just behind them.

“He was a bit rough at first, but he’s smoothed out nicely,” Elladan concurred from his spot in the back of the line of riders.

Andrella giggled, her entire face lighting up with glee.

Lloyd felt the blood rising to his cheeks. She was beautiful, both inside and out. Andrella had such a kind heart, like her mother. She was also feisty like her father, and nearly as smart as Glo. He didn’t know quite just how to say it, but he had fallen in love with her.

She stared at him now, the affection in her eyes making him blush even further. He quickly changed the subject before he turned as crimson as his armor. “So, anyone give any thought to how we’re going to handle the princess?”

After the destruction of the Golem Master’s monolith, the Princess of Lanfor had given them a ride on her airship, the Wind Hammer. That night they discovered that she had taken their friend, Ves, prisoner. A powerful bronze dragon, Anya was attempting to bend Ves to her will to add to her growing army of dragons. The companions proceeded to free Ves and then jumped ship.

When they arrived in Lukescros two weeks later, one of Anya’s minions found them. A shapeshifter, she pretended to be Ves and caused all sorts of havoc. When they confronted Anya about it, she accused them of stealing something valuable from her ship—something other than Ves.

Elladan continued to strum his lute, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll think of something once we get there.”

Glo arched an eyebrow at his traveling companion. “Don’t you think you’re being just a bit glib?”

Elladan pressed his lips together and shrugged. “I told the princess before we left, we’d be back in a few days. It’s only been a few days.”

“I think you might be overestimating her patience,” Aksel called back to them over his shoulder.

Elladan responded with that same half-smile he always did when he was trying to be charming. “Maybe it’s time she learned some.”

“Your funeral.” Donnie spun back to look at the bard with a wink and a grin.

Lloyd traded a silent glance with Andrella. Unfortunately, with a loose cannon like Anya, it might just come to that.

The companions reached the clear shores of the Penderbun late that afternoon. Three large isles stretched across the width of the sparkling blue river. Two sat between them and the opposite shore, with the last farther downstream.

They crossed a long wooden bridge to the northmost isle. An expanse of mostly open ground stretched out before them. Kara, a newcomer to the island of Thac, had never been to Lukescros before.

Lloyd decided it only fitting to give her the guided tour. “This is where the Lukescros Faire is held.” He pointed to two large open structures directly ahead of them. “As you can see, they’ve already set up the amphitheater and the arena” —he changed direction to a few dozen large tents off to their left— “and the booths look like they’re almost ready to open.”

Kara squinted as she swept her gaze between the arena, amphitheater, and the mass of tents. “The Lukescros Faire?”

“You mean you’ve never heard of it?” Elladan exclaimed, his brow raising in disbelief. He spurred his horse forward until he drew up next to her. “The Lukescros Faire is only the biggest event in eastern Thac! Every year on the first of Sextilis, the greatest performers, warriors, and mages gather here in Lukescros to compete against each other. There are all kinds of competitions, from performing to jousting, hand-to-hand combat, spell casting, archery, riding, and even flying.

“And the booths are filled with clothes and jewelry from every corner of the world.” Andrella rubbed her hands together with obvious anticipation.

“Not to mention the most delectable foods and games of chance.” Donnie flashed Kara a sparkling smile.

The lady warrior took in all their words, but still appeared skeptical.

“The Grand Masquerade Ball at end is the most spectacular social event of the season.” Elladan went on with his pitch. “Folks travel from far and wide to attend the Faire. Many even come from the mainland.”

“It’s true,” Andrella agreed with the bard. “Every year, my mother and father would rent us a room at the Bright Angel. We’d spend at least a week at the faire, always staying for the ball at the end.”