Chains of Destiny 2:1 A most unfortunate voyage.

Getting to sleep on the ship was no easy task.  Not only was I turning over and over in my mind the past short while that had brought me into contact with a former slave and a law-abiding soldier, the waters were so choppy that I spent some time feeling a bit ill.  But sleep did come, whether due to exhaustion or boredom, and the night passed over us without any surprises.

The surprise came at morning.

Trained to get up while darkness still clung to the morning sky, I awakened early enough to hear the soldiers muttering to each other about where precisely they were.  In a few minutes, they decided- quite rightly- that we'd been sailing far too long to be simply going to Furthinghome, and that they ought to check whether the ship's captain had come upon some trouble that had made docking at Furthinghome impossible.  Two out of four soldiers ascended to the deck, and in about four or five minutes, there was hollering and clashing of metal.

I kicked a confused and surprised Aleksei awake at once, and the two remaining soldiers were momentarily torn between seeing what was the matter and keeping their prisoners in check.

"Don't worry about us," I hollered.  "This one follows the rules."

Placing more faith in Aleksei than perhaps anyone should place in any prisoner, the two guards nodded and ran up to the deck,weapons drawn.  Seyashen and Silveredge awoke with the commotion, and the first thing Seyashen thought to do was to begin drawing a symbol on the wall next to the ladder.  While he worked, two of the sailors came down the ladded to get at him.  Aleksei floored one with a solid punch that sounded as though it would crack bone, and I planted a boot in the other's face.  He staggered backward long enough for Aleksei to get knuckles on him too, and there wasn't any movement from them after that.

The deck was a riot; the glimpses that we caught while Seyashen worked were sad, but not surprising.  It could be expected that, although the sailors were not weak men, they were not martially trained.  Some sailors tried to get down to us just to get away from them, but met unfortunate ends.  Just four soldiers sounded as though they were making slow but good progress against these fools.  All the same, Aleksei rooted around until he could find his taloned kilij and went up the ladder to help.  About that same time, Seyashen finished his art project and hustled us all away from the entrance.  I was just going to ask him why when another sailor attempted to get down the ladder to what he thought was safety.  Seyashen's symbol turned brilliant red, then black, and the sailor- eyes widened and arms suddenly flailing- collapsed, gasping for air.

The noise above us lasted for perhaps a little more than an hour, after which time a half-Elf soldier poked his head down and demanded Seyashen in roaring tones.

"He's not coming alone," I countered.

"I don't care if you all come with him, just- just come!"the soldier responded, his voice wavering between demanding and pleading.

I came up first, and was greeted with the sight of killed sailors being tossed overboard by the survivors.  It looked as though more than half the crew had been killed, and a Human soldier was propped up against the main mast, bleeding from a gash in his side.   Behind him, two of the soldiers hoisted the fourth over the side.  In the distant afternoon, some port town's lighthouse was rather clearly visible- I couldn't help thinking that perhaps this bloody misunderstanding had simply been a few hours too soon.

"Do somethin'," a sailor told Seyashen.  "The Dragonborn says ye can do more than raise undead, so that one fetched ye."

"And he would normally have been right to do so," Seyashen replied, having already knelt at the bleeding soldier's side.  "But this is more serious than I am currently prepared to handle.  Is there any chance of getting to an alchemist in a few hours?"

"No," the wounded soldier protested weakly.  "Magic and potions- I won't have it."

"Well, I believe his mind is made," Seyashen sighed.  "I won't do anything against his will.  So at this point, one can only make his death swift."

"Yes- just- end it," the Human conceded, closing his eyes.

"I can't do that, Toryn," the half-Elf said strongly.  "We're almost to the shoreline- just hang on, if you don't want any meager healing that the wizard can work without his potions."

"You are maybe not wanting to see this, but this is much blood," Aleksei said solemnly, shaking his head.  "If this shore is more than an hour away, it is too far."

"Then it is too far," one of the nearby sailors smiled grimly.  "Better toss him overboard with the others, let him fight the fishes."

"You talk like that again, I'll split you in two," the half-Elf snarled.  The other soldier, a rather somber-faced Elf, restrained him calmly.

"We're not in a position to make threats- there are eight of them left and three of us- counting the Dragonborn that we are supposed to be escorting."

"Just finish it," the wounded Human begged.  "It's the waiting- watching noonday sun turn dark."

"He is asking for honorable death,"Aleksei offered, looking to the half-Elf.  I reached over and put out one of my daggers, hilt-first.

"No," the half-Elf spat, looking around at the gathering sailors.  "You can't, he's-"

"Come on, now, we're only stallin' fate,"one of them said with a note of sympathy.  "Do as he bids ye, an' we'll haul 'im over for ye."

"No, I said!" the half-Elf cried, staring out at us all as though we were animals.  "Get back- get away from him!"

"Calm down, Liam, they're right," the Elven soldier said quietly.  "We're not doing Toryn any favors watching him slowly bleed to death.   Let him go."

Aleksei finally stepped past Seyashen, waving him away, and took my dagger.  "You are not doing this, no?" he asked the soldiers.

"No, I don't think Liam wants to understand the situation.  He and Toryn were close- like brothers," the Elf replied.  "You're an honest creature, Dragonborn.  Send the man off."

"No!" the half-Elf screamed, now nearly wild and kicking.

"Two for, one against- do it, Aleksei," I nodded.  "The dying man's vote counts twice."

"Toryn is your name?" Aleksei asked, receiving a nod in response.  He slowly knelt behind him, moving in closely enough to merely whisper to be heard.  "Tell me, where is your family's house?"

"Findar," Toryn breathed, the sound labored and pitiable.  "Spent- spent most my life there."

"Are you having family there still?"

"Don't do this!" the half-Elf hollered, restrained by the Elven soldier and two tolerant sailors.

"My mother, and two sisters," Toryn responded, closing his eyes.

"Think of them," Aleksei counseled in a low tone that I could hardly hear.  Seyashen turned away, walking toward the side of the ship, and Silveredge drew close to me.  Surprised at her presence, I accepted her chilly, trembling hand.  "Think of your homeland, how it is when you are growing up.  Walk again the streets, see again the people there.  Look to your gods."

And quickly, my dagger pushed into the left side of Toryn's upper back, twisted, and then pulled out.  Looking at Toryn's face, it seemed as though the pain had only been a pinch compared to his steadily bleeding wound, and after the first sharp gasp, his body relaxed peacefully.  The half-Elf cried out loudly, nearly collapsing to the ground, as the sailors parted before Aleksei, who picked Toryn up and carried him to the other side of the boat.  Silveredge turned her head into my shoulder as the Dragonborn lifted Toryn's body over the side and dropped him, and I- not really knowing what else to do- laid a hand on top of her tousled hair.

"It's no clear dock here, mate,"one of the sailors hollered over the half-Elf's mourning.  "We'll 'ave to push on.  Maybe reach Tezir by morrow's dawnin'."

It took me approximately thirty seconds to realize that they were now addressing the remaining soldier as though he were the new boss in charge.  "What happened to the captain?" I asked Aleksei quietly as he returned from the other side of the boat.

"Look behind us," Aleksei shrugged.  "Perhaps if he is not yet sinking, you will find him."

The Elf watched three sailors try to get wine and counsel into his half-Elf companion, then turned to the bow of the boat and sighed.  "Where are the maps and charts, sir?"

"Stern, cap'ain's quar'ers," the sailor replied.  "What're yours, if you want 'em.  Code says, 'im what offs cap'ain, gets what's 'ís."

And the sailors, in agreement, shouted and stamped or banged various parts of the boat.  It was amazing how much noise just eight men made, and after a few moments of this, the Elf raised his hand to quiet them.

"I little know how to captain a ship; I'm better suited to leading a squadron.  I suggest you select from among you a well-seasoned seaman, and if you prefer to have me hang about to make your sword arms a little sturdier, then I'll stay."

"It's no good, mate, code's code.  What, have ye fam'ly somewheres, what ye needs to get back to?" the first sailor asked, turning back to the wheel.

"Why don't you take the boat on, sir?" the Elf asked.  "You're already at the wheel of the thing; it couldn't be that much of a jump."

"Nonsense, Cap'ain," the sailor tossed over his shoulder, smiling.  "Them maps is in the cabin, so ye tells the first mate where 'e's goin', eh?"

With a sigh, the Elf turned and began walking toward the back of the boat.  "Yes, I suppose I'd better do that.  As for you," he said, turning to Aleksei, "get the ladies back below deck.  If there are any wounded that will stand it, have the wizard take a look at them."

"Da, Sér," Aleksei replied in a tone I'd never heard from him before.

"Don't look so surprised," Seyashen nodded as he moved off to get a closer look at any wounded sailors.  "You've never seen an old soldier take an order, I suppose?"

I went back below the deck with Silveredge as though in a dream.  She, having not spoken a single word throughout the entire day, stared out of the portholes at the floating bodies behind us.  I watched with her for awhile, but gave it up when I saw fish begin to nibble at the bloating carcasses.  I wondered if Aleksei were meditating on however many men he'd fed to the carnivorous creatures in these waters.

In a few hours, Seyashen returned to us, quickly laying himself down and going to sleep.  A few hours after that, Aleksei finally came down, bringing what meager tack and fresh water there was to be had.  When Seyashen awoke, he got up and took his time taking his dangerous art project off the wall- and as soon as he'd gotten that down, sailors peeked in to check on us nearly hourly.  The day was tense and silent, and I heard nothing about where we were going or when we could expect to get there.  I passed time sharpening weapons- first mine, then Silveredge's, and Aleksei's.  A sailor peeked down as I did this, and apparently told his friends, since I suddenly became responsible for sharpening  the blade of every man on the boat.

By evening, we did dock, and as expected, were responsible for helping to haul all the cargo out of the ship's hold.  The city- whatever city it was- was impressive even in the dark, with shadowed spires scraping the sky and various smudges of smoke coming from sturdy looking stone houses.  At the pier stood an impatient looking female Dwarf, who eyed us all with the same glare of suspicion.  When we'd finished, she crabbed about having to check through everything for proper documentation and charges.

"Men, we lodge at this inn here on the docks," the Elf said, apparently having become used to his position in the space of a half day.  "It's not a polite place for women, however, so I charge you, Dragonborn, with escorting your party to an inn farther ashore.  I'm told there is a good one, with warm clean beds, in the shadow of a white and gold temple."

And whomever had passed that information to him had been right.  I left Aleksei at the half-empty bar almost as soon as we arrived, my ale only barely touched- although I devoured the tasteless meal set before me.  Aleksei didn't mind finishing my ale, and Silveredge retired early as well, gingerly hopping up the steps behind me.  The bed, with a well-stuffed mattress, was a welcome change to various tiles, wood floors, bare dirt and stone that I'd been used to sleeping on, and even though Silveredge insisted on curling up at my feet like a pet, I slept rather soundly until early the next morning.  When I awoke, darkness, as usual, still painted the sky, and I felt free to creep down to the shore to have a look at what was going to be done with all that poison cargo.  It struck me as strange that not a sound came from the docks, and for a moment, I thought I'd somehow come to the wrong place.

The bags were all gone.
So was the ship.

But at the edge of the pier, ebony legs crossed and silver hair spilling over his bare left shoulder to a pool on the ground, sat a most familiar Drow.

1:43 Party design flaws.

Seyashen- whom I carefully referred to as Ivan until he corrected me with a faded hellfire smile that was miraculously similar to Mi'ishaen's- was pushed away from the Humans who had been marched on to Findar as though they were prisoners.  Many of them seemed to wish to tell him goodbye, but the Elves and half-Elves- no less convinced that Mi'ishaen and her cousin were dangerous and wicked than were the Dragonborn who had once dominated the ground upon which they stood- would not allow any sort of conversation or contact.  A few surprised and sorrowful looks over the shoulder were given before they marched completely out of sight, and although accompanied by a blood relative who from time to time attempted to comfort him, Seyashen seemed somehow quite lonely.

We sat and waited a day and a night before we were marched along the stream-turned-raging river, waiting for the Human group to get a good distance away, I suppose.  The Elven leader marched with us, making sure that we were all separated and accompanied by no less than four guards a piece.  Aleksei bore the treatment as though he'd deserved it, and Seyashen was similarly compliant.  I didn't mind either, but it was clearly rather difficult for Mi'ishaen to put up with.  She shook the guards' hands from her shoulders often, and walked either faster or slower than those assigned to her.  By the time twilight looked upon us, the guards had tired of trying to actually hold her, and took Aleksei's word that she would come quietly if allowed to walk with some degree of personal space.  As a result, she was separated even farther from us and placed under the direct supervision of the Elven leader himself.  I had to smirk to myself- for a rogue, Mi'ishaen had quite the problem with standing out.  I wondered how she'd managed to survive so long with such a blatant disreguard for anything that vaguely resembled compliance with authority.

In that evening, the smell from the sea just beyond us drew me to remain awake for some time after the guards had put the fires out and required that we sleep.  Being battle weary themselves, they were hardly in fit condition to enforce their mandate, and only a few watchmen were left awake when I decided to get up and leave the sides of my four guardians.

Perhaps not surprisingly, I was not the only restless one among us.

In the distance behind the soldiers' camp, Seyashen sat alone- or at least he did for a few moments.  As I crept closer, not wanting to disturb his solitude, I heard him quietly speaking.  At first, I thought he was talking to himself, as very talented magic people are wont to do, but then he extended his right hand slightly, palm upward.  Slowly, he drew back his last two fingers and bent in the three remaining fingers until they were claw-like.  Then he bent his right arm at the elbow to bring the three claw-shaped fingers to where his heart would be.  Raking them across, he extended his hand palm upward again, then turned his first and second fingers down to the dirt to draw some sort of sign on the ground.  When he finished, he tapped the ground twice, then laid his right hand back on his right leg.

A short distance away, there suddenly appeared the ethereal image of another Tiefling, with horns that branched from his brow straight back like spikes.  I remembered with chilling clarity the spike-like horn that I had driven through Mikhail's skull.

The image walked over to Seyashen, whose figure crumpled just slightly, and sat next to him.  Biting my lips and curbing my curiosity, I turned back and headed for my place, which was just as well, since one of the guards had stirred and was looking for me.

The morning had been long over us before we moved again, but aside from the stiffness of having to sleep on the ground, all the soldiers were much better rested.  While they chatted amongst themselves, sometimes in Common and sometimes in Elven, we the captives all walked in separated silence as the smell of the sea became sharper and sharper.  Even Mi'ishaen had calmed down significantly, and barely put up a contest against the grip of the Elven leader.  The scenery began to change; the road widened and became just barely cobbled instead of simply being trodden dirt.  A few mile markers, in the form of planted stakes, sprung up, but they didn't seem to be very consistent, and had absolutely no sign that would tell a stranger where they were going.  I passed the time trying to count them, but wound up losing count somewhere around thirty five- mainly because some markers at that point had been filed to what seemed to be an extremely sharp point, and had been painted red.  I suddenly didn't want to pay as much attention to them.

The sun was up and over our backs before a dock appeared before us, big enough to accommodate three or four medium sized vessels at once- it wouldn't do for even one large one, however.  The ground we were on was higher than it, and the leader raised his hand to indicate that he wanted everyone to stop for just a moment.  In the few moments that it took for the entire company- about thirty or fourty men and women strong- to come to a gradual halt, I did my best to note not just the obvious method by which we'd be dumped onto some other land, but the village that wrapped around it like a comfy, albeit worn and ragged, shawl.

"Dlusk," he proclaimed in a tone that was supposed to be welcoming, but fell flat.  The village to which he was introducing us was small, with about ten buildings making up the whole of it.  One was clearly the boathouse, seeing as it had the makings of a new boat right next to the remains of one that had been somehow very badly destroyed.  The others could be identified as homes, mostly- there seemed to be one inn and one sacred place that had markers in the back.  After the one-word welcome, we all proceeded down the one cobbled lane that sliced through the village and down to the sea.  It narrowed again, but became better cobbled the closer to the dock that we got, until a wagon or hand cart successfully navigating the thing seemed not only possible, but likely.  All eyes, large and small, Elven and Human, were upon us as we passed by, marched like criminals.  The soldiers, perhaps noting this, talked a little louder and a little more cheerily, to make it seem less like a capture and more like an honorable escort.  Just one child dared to point out how different Aleksei was from all those who surrounded him- head and shoulders above us all, obviously following because he was docile, not because he was actually being forced.

"Sirrah- oi, sir!" the little Human boy cried, escaping the arms of an older woman.  "How'd you lose your eye, sir?  Ya got scales all over- what happened to that?"

The soldiers surrounding Aleksei stopped, stunned, and perhaps a little embarrassed, as three out of four of them were Human.  The fourth was a half-Elf, who snickered.  But Aleksei turned a smile to the boy, set up to humor him.

"It is good you are telling me that I am not having one eye," he joked, to the boy's excitement.  "I am very busy during battle long ago, and since, I am wondering why the day is not seeming quite as bright."

"Come, Terrence!" the older woman griped, grabbing up the beaming young male with a grip that whitened his bare, ruddy arm.

"Went missing, eh?" the half-Elf soldier joked back to Aleksei as they watched the boy get dragged away.  "Just, 'Oops, wonder where that's got to' one day?"

"It is maybe something like that, yes," Aleksei nodded, back to catch up to to Elven leader, who had paused further along the path to look back.  The soldiers, not at all concerned, allowed him to take his time.   "Maybe with little more pain, but this is being many, many mugs of good brew from now."

"Little foggy, then," stated the half-Elf, still with a distinct trace of humor.  "I got a good friend like you.  First two fingers gone to the palm, and be damned if he can tell you precisely when he lost 'em.  Damned sot."

And all five in the clutch had a chuckle for a short while that brought a more genuine sense of levity to the entire group. 

All laughter and conversation died, however, when we were presented with the dark wood cargo ship at the far end of the dock.  It seemed the Elf, still with Mi'ishaen in tow, had to do a bit of yelling to get the stout, cross-armed Human captain to allow the plan to proceed, but just a few minutes after both voices rung across the space between the ship and the rest of us, Aleksei, Seyashen and I were being walked onto the ship with one guard per person.  Apparently, the guards would sail to Furthinghome, but after the ship departed from there, the four of us would be on our own.  Some coin and a few weapons taken from the decimated Dragonborn camp sufficed for fare, and we were taken below deck to sit with the dry goods being shipped to Veltalar.

The soldiers made absolutely no pretense of guarding us, and we were allowed to sit together for the first time since we'd left the Dragonborn camp.

"The sun is too far down for us to start off now," Mi'ishaen commented.  "If they cast off, they'd be reaching Furthinghome in the dark."

And then, accompanied by shouts from various parts of the deck, the ship lurched.

"Alright, Furthinghome by dark it is," Mi'ishaen relented with a sigh.  "When that Elf said the next boat, he really meant the very next boat.  I wonder how much we're worth."

"As much as we're able to haul off the ship in the dark of night while the hands are ashore soaking up piss water ale, is my guess," Seyashen answered offhandedly.  "For however serious pirating may be, it seems trafficking is just dandy."

"I've never known barley and rice to be illegal substances," Mi'ishaen retorted, an eyebrow raised.

"Perhaps not, but that's not barley," Seyashen smirked wickedly.  "It's cut terinav root.  It's more pungent when it's ground, but I can still smell it- lucky for us all, it's a contact poison.  Can easily cripple large game- or, perhaps, an escaping person- in just a few moments.  If you're going tangle with a gnome infestation, or need to hobble a giant, you want terinav."

"This is dangerous thing," Aleksei commented, looking at the sacks that surrounded us with open distaste.

"Meh, sounds useful, actually.  Why is it illegal- and better yet, why are we all sitting with it?" Mi'ishaen asked crisply.

"Its illegality is nearly daily challenged, but so far as I'm aware, it came under fire from not a few governments because some unscrupulous males of various races found some...interesting uses... at social functions... where desirable females were to be found," Seyashen replied, unable to stop his smirk from becoming a full blown hellfire smile.  "I became rather familiar with it when my alchemical skills were first put to the test under Mikhail's rule- there had been some rather unpleasant situations."

"So, the root goes into the food or the drink, and a couple of months later, surprise," Mi'ishaen supplied in a leaden tone.  "Unpleasant, heh, sure.  Good to know we'll be hauling somebody's drug of choice in exchange for the fare necessary to deport us to gods-know-where.  I suppose it's in barley bags because they're thick enough to prevent undesired contact."

Seyashen gave a refined, clipped nod, and his cousin snorted loudly enough to draw the soldiers' attention.

"Trouble?" one asked lightly.

"Not yet, but give me time," Mi'ishaen tossed back, receiving a couple of halfhearted laughs in response.

"This is very strange thing they are doing," Aleksei puzzled with a frown.  "Dragonborn couples are always being made publicly, with the consent of both families, by having good fight.  This drugging is very dishonorable way of making a couple; what kind of children are coming from that?"

"You ought to know," Seyashen replied calmly.  "You probably killed a few of them."

"You're equally good at accidentally destroying people and conversations, Seyashen," Mi'ishaen groaned.

"No, no, it is good," Aleksei said quickly, shaking his head.  "When one is fighting, it is someone's child, someone's mate, someone's friend that is being killed.  Always it is good to remember this.  Seyashen is doing good thing, reminding me of this, or eventually, I will simply be a murderer."

"Well, that's just- I'm not a murderer, am I?  And I don't brood over every bastard that meets the ouchy end of my daggers.  By Baator, how you manage to get anything done while thinking that sort of thing..." Mi'ishaen huffed, allowing herself to trail off mid-thought.

"Training," Aleksei said, shrugging.  "I am in the army almost as soon as I am able to lift a blade.  In the battle, I am only listening to the singing of the blood.  It is after battle is over that it is time to meditate.  I am doing this yesternight, but it is good to go back, and think again.  Healthy, and wise."

"How can it possibly be healthy to ruminate over your kills?" Mi'ishaen spat.  "You cut a notch in your belt or in your weapon, and you move on.  If you lived in my home city, you'd not have enough time between meditation periods, or whatever, to get any lunch or supper, for all the work you'd have to do just to get to the bazaar.  If it's not a beggar stabbing you for your coppers, it's a noble striking you down to make an example of you- or worse, some absent-minded warlock down the street magic missile-ing you only to test the varying efficiencies of the damned scrolls they just wrote.  'Oh, so writing it in goat's blood-' "

"Then instead of going into the bazaar, I should be going  to the city guard, to help them, yes?" Aleksei argued with a shrug.  "What?  There is no city guard anywhere in Bael Turath, to keep the peace?"

"That isn't bought off by whatever noble or petty tyrant?" Mi'ishaen laughed bitterly.  "You got me; that was an excellent joke."

"There must be some tall tale about how you two ever wound up together," Seyashen laughed quietly.  "Must have shared some sort of terrible experience- torture, slavery- something.  You can't have willingly decided to chat over cheap beer in a tavern somewhere, joining forces at the behest of some old fop who couldn't be bothered to find some lost family trinket."

And Mi'ishaen and Aleksei stared at each other for a few moments.

"Dear gods, did you search for some greybeard's family trinket?" Seyashen suddenly dared, seeing the looks on their faces.  "Here, Jyklihaimra, help me, please."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, surprised at being spoken to.  "No, you were right, we were held captive for a while.  Not all together, but we all got out together, so, I suppose we just kind of- stuck- except for Bahlzair."

"The Drow," Seyashen mused.  "Well, that's to be expected.  It's not the most common thing in the world to see one of them striding about above ground, and he was a free male.  If he hasn't been dragged back to the Underdark by some furious female of his kind, he must be having great fun terrorizing as many people as he can get a hold of."

"Perhaps people are wondering why you are not harming as many people as you can get a hold of?" Aleksei gently reminded.

Silence.

"Perhaps in living with Mikhail so long, I have allowed some of his- views- to settle upon me," Seyashen relented sadly, a grim look settling on his face.  "You're quite his opposite, in your broad-mindedness."

"It is because of one like you," Aleksei sighed with quiet wistfulness.  "One very different Tiefling male is changing much for me."

"You didn't kill him," Mi'ishaen said flatly.  "Don't meditate on that; it wasn't your fault."

"Thus far and no farther," Seyashen said, shaking his head.  "I think we've all said quite enough for one evening.  Let's get as much rest as we can, hopefully meditating on pleasant matters, before we become a poison runner's mules."

But I thought on Bahlzair, and could not sleep.

1:42 The next boat.

Aleksei had been right- in a few more hours, the Dragonborn camp was completely destroyed.  The soldiers of the territory that had been plagued with raids for so long had no mercy at all, now that the tables were turned.  Not a single creature- male, female, young or old- was spared.  They would even have turned on their kobold allies, had Aleksei not stepped in to remind them that the kobolds had nothing to do with the cult that had taken root and flourished for so long.  They were allowed to return to what was left of their mountain in peace.  A few seemed more than a little sorry to be taking their leave of Aleksei for the second time, a fact that I heard a few of the soldiers comment upon.  Like an indulgent big brother, Aleksei patted a few on the head and awarded a few trinkets to others.  He seemed especially proud of a quaking young female, handing her a bow that had wicked talons on both ends.  He showed her briefly how she would use the talons to scrape and stab someone who had come too close to her to allow being shot at.

"I wonder if he's got a daughter," a female soldier said to another with quiet admiration, leaning on the hilt of her sword.

"I wonder if he's got a daughter what's yet alive," the second soldier replied, and a hum of thought arose from both of them.  Not having considered the possibility myself, I began to think about it as well.  It seemed that Aleksei would be quite at home training a son or counseling a daughter.  I wondered what type of woman he would like to breed with- would she be meek and coy, or perhaps robust and dominating?  And then, like the second soldier, I began to wonder if that were a chapter long closed for him- sealed, perhaps, in blood.  And then I felt quite embarrassed for having begun to think of such personal details at all.

When the kobolds had all gone, the bodies had all been piled up and burned and the tents had all been taken down, the Hall of Horns alone stood with a great gaping hole where someone had smashed through.  The shrine to Tiamat was left as it was, aside from all the gold and Mikhail's remains being removed, but the Hall of Horns, a more visible reminder of the bandit cultists, was different.  Soldiers circled it, wondering what should be done with it.  Oddly enough, they did not seem to want to further desecrate it, but the Humans who had been freed from Mikhail's rule thought differently.  Once given approval from the soldiers and Aleksei, they rushed at it with war hammers, axes and even stones, if that was all they could get their hands on.  With whoops and hollers of joy and revenge, the Hall was torn down.  Even those who accidentally injured themselves trying to smash through bore their new wounds with pride, refusing healing spells, which would nix the possibility of scarring.  Instead, they tore rags from their dead foes, staunching the blood and treating their wounds without magic- and oddly enough, a few of them reached out to Aleksei, wanting to take care of the gash that they feared would become infected without treatment.

"I am not one of your people," he replied.  There was no superiority in his voice, but something near embarrassment, and a trace of sorrow.

"You bleed just the same, Two-Tone," a young Human male replied with a shrug.  "And you've just done with fightin' for us.  Can't rightly leave you bleedin', can we then?"

A few Humans had turned around, and cheered at these words, encouraging Aleksei- or Two-Tone, as he'd come to be called in the camp- to sit down and trust his wound to them.  Instead of sitting down, Aleksei laid down his talon kilij with me, walked calmly over to the Human women and men who were waiting, and knelt before them.  As they worked, the soldiers from farther down on the peninsula- the Aglarond Peninsula, as I was made to understand it by one glowingly proud half-Elf- gathered themselves together to march back home.

"You must leave this place as we agreed," the Elven leader of the band told Aleksei sternly after he'd received as much medical work as the Humans could do.  It seemed like a unique challenge for them to have to clean underneath the scales that surrounded the wound in addition to the wound itself.

"I will- as soon as I find the Tiefling and the Drow that are traveling with me.  All four of us are trying to pass through this land in peace, when Mikhail is stopping us," Aleksei replied.

"Would either of them have left the area without you?" came the biting question, wielded without a shade of pity or concern.

"The Drow I cannot be sure of, but the Tiefling would be having great cause to remain close by," Aleksei smirked, looking over to me.  I could feel a warmth rising into my cheeks, and wished that some tent were available to duck behind.

"Men," the leader said without delay, "Get into your shield groupings and spread out.  I want a five mile search made from this spot.  If you find a Tiefling female, arrest her and bring her back to me here at once.  You have about seven hours of daylight left, now go!"  And in sets of four or five, the soldiers set off in all directions.  "If they return without her, you will still be expected to leave," the leader said in a leaden tone, not even looking back at Aleksei to give this news.

"Of course," Aleksei replied in a tone that edged unhealthily close to sarcasm.  "And the Humans here?"

"Are now refugees, and will be sent to Findar."  After a wise sigh, the Elf added, "It will be easier for them there than in Furthinghome.  But you don't worry about that.  I'll see to it that everyone here is treated fairly, put in some settlement that will help them get over all this.  You just look to yourself, and pray to whatever gods you have that we find your Tiefling."

And we did.  I sat with the Human females, making a proper dress out of the green fabric I'd found on the dead soldiers, and Aleksei searched through the piled Dragonborn belongings until he found two daggers to replace my long-gone katars.  He admitted that he could only sharpen the daggers, so once he'd finished with that, he took up his kilij and invited me to spar with him.  The leader of the soldiers did not seem to mind, and stood aside with the Humans to see how I would fare against this male who was much larger than I.  With a smirk, I backed up a few paces and crouched down, both daggers at the ready.

"I am for you, master," I nodded quietly.

"Do not pity the lost eye," Aleksei warned.

I had thought that he would be a slower fighter, given the use of a two-handed weapon, but he was quick to parry and even quicker to use my own fleet-footed momentum against me.  I can't count how many times I went flying over his shoulder before I realized that I could not advance against him the same way I did with Mi'ishaen.  And while Mi'ishaen had been quick to pour all her energy into her movements from the very first, Aleksei seemed to have a steady energy that could grow exponentially whenever he wanted it to, going from merely blocking and moving me around to actively attacking me with great force.   Those watching us focused on us, shouting out advice about our footing and our advances.  We were all so engrossed in what we were doing that a genuine shriek of terror was at first met with little attention.

"We've found them, oh gods!  We found them!" a Human soldier cried, breathless and horrified, nearly flinging himself against Aleksei.  "The female had a dagger in Luke's throat before either of us could offer terms of peace, but- Pelor protect me- that male!  That male stretched out his hand, and Luke got up.  He got up and started walking to me, weapon drawn, with the dagger still in his throat!"

"Calm yourself, lad, calm down," one of the Human females that had been watching us counseled.  "You've found Ivan, is all.  He's nice enough, but some god of death- the Raven Queen, Vecna, some one of that lot- just adores him.  The gods will choose whom they will choose, whether we like it or not; it's not his fault."

And down the hill toward the banks where we stood came Mi'ishaen and Ivan, accompanied by two living soldiers and one wrapped in glowing necromantic energy with a gaping hole in his throat.

"Be at peace," Ivan smiled, his sightless gaze staring over my shoulder.  There was a difference to him, but I had little time to note it.

"What are we under arrest for?" Mi'ishaen charged irritably, as though she'd asked at least twice before.

"You are all expected to leave this place, per an agreement made by this male to spare your lives," the leader of the soldiers claimed, taking a closer look at his reanimated soldier.  "Please, stop this, won't you?"

Ivan shrugged, and the soldier collapsed into a pile of dust that was as black as a moonless night.

"As I was saying," the Elf continued, clearly disturbed, "you are expected to leave at once.  Off with you to the docks.  We'll be sure to give you what food and water you will need for the journey, and then we'll put you off on the next boat off of the peninsula."

"Going in what direction?" Mi'ishaen crabbed.  "You don't intend to send us to the Pirate Isles, do you?"

"Have a bit more faith in us," the leader smiled grimly.  "We'll get you past those- and you're welcome.  The pirates daren't attack our ships, or they'll be captured, brought back to Veltalar for a circus of a trial, and put to death."

"I feel much safer now," Mi'ishaen replied sullenly.  "Now where are we going?"

"Off Aglarond, on the first boat out, I can promise you," the leader replied.  "Other than that?  Well, your friend there does seem to be on friendly terms with Vecna."