Posted by DarthKrzysztof

1375 C.E.

Quinn shifted the weight of his lamellar armor around his shoulders as the men lashed the ship to the dock in the brightness of midday. The armor’s steel scales made him look like a fish, and he’d still drown if he fell in the water. But its protection outmatched anything he’d ever worn in the Dalelands, and he’d have to get used to wearing this if he ever wanted to try anything heavier.

Besides, he thought, Shardea wants ye tae wear the armor. And when ye’re truly a Spellknight, it’ll belong tae ye. So shoulder the weight, as ye shoulder yer duty, and quit yer bellyachin.’

He made his way toward the ship, painfully aware of every eye upon him – “the Dalesman playing dress-up, ” he heard one woman whisper to another. Who cares if they dinna think ye have what it takes? Shardea never would have chosen ye if that were true. Everyone she’s ever chosen has become a Spellknight… eventually. Besides, remember how ye helped her do this last year? Now she trusts ye tae do it on yer own.

Fine. Let’s get on with it, then.

He ran a hand over his face and stopped near the gangplank as the dock hands shoved it into place. “Candidates for initiation!” he shouted, rather louder than was necessary. “Tae me!’

As the ship’s passengers disembarked, three approached Quinn. The unmistakably Korthan woman in the lead had the stocky build of a peasant, and hair as black as a raven’s wing. The man behind her, probably Icatian, looked like a mouse to Quinn, dressed all in drab brown. A slouched, scrawny elf in a dark blue robe, with a brooding face and unruly black hair, brought up the rear.

“I welcome ye tae Mystral. My name is Quinn. Ye are Katarzyna?” When the Korthan nodded, the squire turned to the elf. “Echo Moria?”

“I am he,” the elf said, performing a strange, sad little bow that distracted Quinn a bit too much.

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Posted by zero

Faerie

1374 C.E.

“I will not be swayed,” Echo Moria insisted to his friend Kalen, who simply shook his head. “I shall know – all shall know – her response, tonight! How could she refuse to answer such a public proclamation?”

“I…” Kalen hedged. “I am simply not as certain as you seem to be of her…feelings. This could well end very, very badly.” The concern he held for his friend was plain on his face.

“Don’t be absurd,” Moria scoffed, though he could not hide the desperation in his eyes from Kalen. Seeing also the stubborn determination with which Moria was clinging to his belief about Alia’s feelings for him, however, Kalen could only sigh.

“As you will, then,” he said glumly. “Sylvara smile upon your bold intentions and bless your future happiness.” Moria clapped Kalen on the shoulder, his friend’s words temporarily banishing his nagging doubts. He had not heard the uncertainty in Kalen’s tone.

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Posted by zero

(Excerpt from the Writings of Echo Moria, Translated from Faerie)

1374

Aliafendrea…

O, the mere memory of thy lovely eyes is enough to stir my heart to passions untold and render me useless for any task other than dwelling on your boundless beauty. Bewitched!

Lo, I only have a mind to bleed mine own heart’s ink, by quill pierced, onto the page, expressing without reservation the height of my desire for thy wondrous splendor.

A glance, a shy glance thou spared for me, a stolen moment for just us two. I knew then and know it now, your regard for me is the soul twin to mine own consideration for thee.

Our mutual admiration needs only time and venue to bloom to flawless fruition. The culmination of shared interest, blessed by the Goddess, eagerly awaits our Spring.

Curious – o so curious! – am I to know the secrets of thy astonishing mind, to understand the precise motive behind thy delicate smile. Pure pleasure evoked by mine own true joy?

How not? Entwined, inseparable, two sides of the heathen gods’ Coin of Fate. Admonish me not for my impatience; my longing to begin treating with thee demands action.

Inspired am I to make certain that thy glorious self receives full disclosure about mine adoration for everything that makes thee all of what you are.

If thou wouldst deign respond in kind and in fashion timely, my rapture would thus be complete, utter, and wanting nothing. May the Lady smile upon me again, and that soon.

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Posted by DarthKrzysztof

1372 C.E.

A vicious beating had left the prisoner’s face a bruised, bloody mess. The man in the cage posed no apparent threat, but Fingal kept his eyes locked on him while speaking to Quinn and Callum. ”’E told us redcaps killed all ‘is bodyguards,” Fingal said.

Callum scratched his head and asked, “But left him alive?” before Quinn could. Callum was the same age as Quinn’s older brother, Tormod, with long black hair and the beginnings of a beard. Callum knew he performed a great service for the clan in training Quinn, and his tolerance for Quinn’s eccentricity made the two young men a good match.

“Aye,” Fingal replied. “Because ‘e’s a wizard. Like I told ye.”

Quinn’s nerves jangled. He’d never dared to think that a wizard would pass through Invershire. He’d certainly never seen one… had he? Quinn had some idea of what a wizard was supposed to look like, after all – and the man in the cage, younger than Quinn’s father, with his clean-shaven face, earth-colored tunic, and breeches, didn’t look like that. “Did he…” Quinn began. “Did you seem him cast any spells?”

Fingal laughed until he coughed, then sketched a rough wink at the boys. “Nae, lad. ‘E told us ‘e were a wizard, and warned us not tae interfere with ‘is business in Faerie. When a man tells ye ‘e’s a wizard, ye dinna give ‘im the chance to cast a spell at ye.”

Faerie, Quinn thought. This man has business in Faerie.

Callum drew himself up to full height, saying, “The chieftain wants yer help with the pyre, Fingal. We’re here tae relieve ye.”

“That is a relief.” Fingal hauled himself to his feet and dusted crumbs from his chest. He favored the boys with a wry smile. “Ain’t been a witch burned in Invershire in all yer lives, I dinna think.” When the boys nodded, Fingal’s smile reached his ears. “Oh, you won’t forget it.”

“Any advice?” Callum asked as Fingal headed for the door.

“Aye. Dinna talk to ‘im. If ‘e says anythin,’ hurt ‘im ‘til ‘e stops. I’ll be back for ‘im at dusk.”

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Posted by DarthKrzysztof

1370 C.E.

Quinn watched Skye wash clothes at the river’s edge, enthralled by the fragments of song she sang to herself here and there. At sixteen, she was only a year older than he, but so much closer to adulthood…

Taking one deep breath, Quinn stepped from behind his tree and started toward her, calling her name. Skye stood up with a start, nearly losing her father’s tunic in the current.

“Quinn!” she shouted. “Damn it, ye nearly stopped mah heart!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he came within ten feet. “I didn’t want tae sneak up on ye.”

“Well, ye did. Daft bastard.” She tilted her head and regarded him with cool green eyes. “What’re ye doing here, then?”

“It’s dangerous for ye to be doon here by yerself.”

“I come here alone every day, Quinn. And ye know I can take care of mahself.” For a moment, her hand hovered over the dagger at her hip. “So, what’re ye doing here? Shouldn’t ye be at the pitch?”

“Nah. I’m being punished.” He grinned. “I’m supposed tae be home.”

“And if ye get caught again? Aren’t ye in enough trouble?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think things could get much worse.”

Skye’s laughter thrilled him. “I suppose not,” she said. “So, I ask ye one more time. Why are ye here?”

“Because ye’re so pretty.”

She stopped working. “What?”

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