The weasle was perfectly happy with the old stocking it had found. It had
been gnawing on the edges climing into it and occasionally throwing it up into
the air. It had been carrying the frayed cloth for weeks and it looked like it.
It smelt it, it would feel like it to if anyone was that immune to disgust to
actually pick it up.
    "Minx, give it here. It reeks, I'll give it back, I promise." The woman
sitting on a log near the edge of the base camp for the assault on the shadow
dragons domain was nursing a baby. It's hair was dark black and was fuzzy. The
weasle knew that his mistress was tricky. She would probably disintegrate it the
moment he put down his prize. The weasle moved around the back of another log
holding his prize. Making a proto tut-tut sound.
A man in a black cloak moved thru the crowd of returning soldiers. He placed a
gloved hand gently but firmly on the shoulder of a passing man. His voice was
smooth as silk, "Have you seen me brother Omar? Er... I mean Othric?" Pointing
to his left breast "Shining Beacon," gestured with both of his hands down his
body, "green comfortable looking cloak." He paused "No?" The soldier shook his
head. "Sorry friend." The man with the amber eyes finished as his words and let
the warriors shoulder go. Weaving thru the troops, looking for any familiar
face, he mumbled to himself. "So many new faces... I guess adventurers don't
live that long."
A shadowy figure moved in front of the man. She was whispy like one of the fades
the shroud wrapped around her moved of it's own accord. The only thing that gave
away her identity to him was the long white cloak covered with stitched roses.
"Father? What are you doing here?"
"Good evening daughter. Are you well?" He stopped to talk with the girl. It had
been a long time. She apparently had spent too much time on the plane of shadow.
She was sheet white, was this the same child that showed up at her house three
years ago?
Miranda was a bit flustered, "I'm actually doing very well, but again Father,
what are you doing here?"
"I've always got buisness at a battlefield. People sell stuff real cheap. Did
you know that adventurers sell things for half price at battles?!? So I'm going
to make a few coins, nothing wrong with that." He sighed. "At the moment though
I'm looking for your uncle Othric. He was going to do some fool mission with the
Beacons, something about purifying the heart of the forest or some rubbish,
clericie stuff." He thought for a moment. "Have you seen him?" His glowing eyes
panned over the crowd.
"No," she paused, "Father, I've got wonderful news. I'm getting married!"
Kasdan froze and looked at the woman in front of him. "Really, considering the
rumors..."
"Father!" She pointed at his face looking indignant. "You should never trust
rumors. He is the perfect man."
"Really?" in disbelief. "Really?" questioning. "Really..." acceptance. "Who is
the lucky chap?"
A small hawk flew down at Kasdan and fluttered in front on the rogues face. He
drew back in a defensive stance and snarled at it. Miranda stepped back and
reflexively swung her chain free from her belt. Then he noticed the small piece
of paper wrapped around it's leg. Kasdan put his arm out and let the bird rest
on it. He untied the small knot. "What's this?" he asked, and quickly read it.
"Sorry Miranda, it's from your other uncle Madyn. Othric is at the healers tent.
He's not doing very well." He looked back at the log. "Eilonwaey, we found him,
lets go."
Going against the flow of the crowd, four humans and a weasle with his sock,
quickly made their way to the healers tents.
-Clan Meridian
Byron Roberts




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