A Rogue's Tale: Rise of the Hand (Part 2)

Broken at a strategic point, where the story takes an interesting turn. I broke it because the other stream was getting a little too long. Enjoy!!

19 weeks passed since Fintan died. Things resumed a normal pace, though not everything was easier. Fionoch and Eden became closer together, though Morgana kept a watchful eye on the vampire, fearing something dark would occur. Twili spent most of her time in the forest, still sad about the loss of her first friend in the Westlands. Liani had kept more to her castle, wondering about what Merlin had said about treason. With Fintan gone, that was a sever danger.
Worst of all, Fionoch had begun having nightmares. The worst of them, was the sight of people burning in flames that felt like a supernatural flame. The fire was stoked by creatures of horrific appearance with eyes as black as night. The screams always had one thing in common ‘The Hand will save us’. Though what they meant were anyone’s guess.
One day, Fionoch had decided to visit Liani for a casual visit. Fionoch stopped his horse outside of Liani's castle. Flashing his ring to the guards they allowed him in without delay. He made his way though the court yard, and in to the halls themselves. But since this was an unannounced visit, finding the dragon queen could be a royal pain in the arse.

Liani sat in her room, reading by the window. She had finished her latest journal entry and was going back over her writings to ensure everything was correct. She would often gaze out the window and smile as she sees the young dragons enjoying the day in the air.

"My Queen." Kratos appeared in the door way of Liani's room. "Enjoying your morning?"
She turns and looked at the door “I am, Kratos.” She replied, setting the new journal on the small table. “I was enjoying the dragons playing outside as I wrote again.”

"Then I'm sorry." He stated with only a hint of sarcasm . "A Rogrican Emissary wishes to speak with you about the Tome of Darkness”
She stood and started to walk towards the door, “It is quite alright, Kratos. Where does the Rogrican wait?” She was annoyed but hid it well as she stopped at the door.

Fionoch glanced past the library, no Liani. He continued to climb higher in to the castle. Passing a small window he froze. There was someone dismounting a large eagle, and dragging a half naked woman along with him as he made his way in to the castle. His hand went to his sword as he started sprinting, still two floors below Liani's room. He made wrong turn after wrong turn. Fionoch paused, breathing heavy. After taking two of the wrong halls in confusion and panic he was now still a floor below and on the opposite side of the castle of Liani's room.

He jerked his head. "I sent him to the throne room."
"LIANI! A ROGRICAN SOLDIER IS IN YOUR CASTLE!" Fionoch yelled, seeing the outline of Kratos and the slight silhouette of Liani.

She gave a soft nod and then jumped a little as Fionoch yelled from down the hallway “Accompany me to the Throne Room, the both of you. We shall see what they want.” She strode out of her room and started to walk down the hall.

"A little slow on the uptake aren't you, Arelian?"
"Not all of us know this castle the way you do, Kratos." Fionoch grumbled back as they both followed Liani down the hall. Fionoch's hand never left his sword.

Liani's hair flared “Enough you two, now isn’t the time for bickering.” As she walked, she was whispering something in a language that neither gentleman could understand.
Fionoch and Kratos followed Liani in to the throne room. The Rogrican stood there, hands crossed over his chest. The woman with him had a large red hand print on her face, and a few tears going down her face. Though she was as silent as the stones she was kneeling down on. "Disgusting." Fionoch muttered in Arelian.
Liani motioned to the two smaller chairs on each side of her throne as she took a seat. She didn’t say anything to the Rogrican as she walked past him and the woman that was there. Kratos took the seat beside Liani on her left, though Fionoch remained standing on her right. He drew his sword out ceremoniously and placed it tip down on the ground, holding it by the pommel.
"I am Duncan, of Rogric. I come to speak to you about the Tome of Darkness." Fionoch rose a brow. Why a Rogrican would care about an old fairytale that may or may not have been given to the dragons to protect was beyond him. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, the girl was shaking her head no.
Liani stared down at the Rogrican, wondering just how he knew that the tome was in her protection. “You may speak of it, Duncan. But know I will not neither confirm nor deny that it is in dragon territory.”
Kratos just chuckled and mused out loud. "We all know that the Tome was given to the Dragons over five hundred years ago when some birdbrain killed his wife because of the power it lead to."
"Your knight speaks the truth, Queen. It is the belief of the High Priests that no dragon should be given this honor...especially when that honor is held by a woman."
Fionoch growled at the Rogrican's words "Mind your tongue, the two most powerful leaders in this part of the world are women. Boudicca Gurie and Liani Osiris both make horrid enemies, but wonderful allies."
"Why should I stand here and be insulted by a man who steps below his status as a warrior to serve whores?"
Liani rolled her eyes “Indeed, Kratos.. but that was as you said, over five hundred years ago. The tome would of been in the possession of the late King and Queen, not I. above her now were two swords, hovering high in the room, waiting on command. “And you will watch your words while in my home and land if you want to make it out of here alive! Now.. why is it you ask of the tome anyways?”
"My slave was of use beyond her normal pleasure. She mentioned to me that a hand of a dark god would rise if the Gryphons gain control of it. This god will destroy the world."
"That is not what this one said, Mistress!" The girl shouted before she could catch herself. She was instantly punished with a hard slap on the face.
"Excuse her lack of manners, Queen." Fionoch's sword was lifted from the floor, ready to strike with the other two. Kratos placed his hand on his blade ready to intercept Fionoch's
"Lower your sword, Arelian." The knight growled
"Watch yourselves, both of you." Fionoch warned to Kratos and the Rogrican.
“All three of you will watch your actions while in my throne room.” She warned the men as her swords flickered in the air above her “Duncan, let her speak. I want to hear what she has to say in this matter.” Liani stood from her throne and walked over to the girl, glaring at the Rogrican for the way he had punished her
"The Hand will come...He will rise from death and defend the lowly from the powerful. As the Great Master commands of his servants."
"Liani, I must sadly agree with the Rogrican if she speaks the truth...The Hand she speaks of is the Hand of Clerin...by my faith, he is a dark god who grew jealous and over powerful. He was locked away by the Angels and the gods of Avalon for the safety of humanity." Fionoch announced, his sword going back down.
Liani returned to her throne and sat “If what she says in in fact true, Fionoch? What should be the course of action in making sure this doesn’t happen.”
Fionoch leaned in to Liani. "If you give that tome, if you have it...to anyone. Give it to Arelia. Not the Rogricans, it can be used to summon the god from the bonds. Or so the fairytale says.... Clerin's last venture on this earth caused a gryphon protector of Arelia to go rogue and slay his own wife in a rampage. She is...at any rate, an uneducated slave, how she knows of such a complex theory is baffling to me...Neither can be trusted." He whispered before standing back up.
"I am sure, if Her Majesty is half the queen she is thought to be she will surrender the throne to your people, Duncan. Otherwise, she's hardly fit to be queen."
"Baltch, Kratos." The Rogrican bowed. "Belance gratc selbie katine goreine kata."
“Speaking in Elfish is a mistake around one who served in Borine for five years.” Fionoch's sword was instantly up again and at Kratos' throat. "You betrayed your own queen?"
Without a second's hesitation there was the singing of two blades. Kratos' sword was out and had parried Fionoch's sword away, as the Rogrican made an attempt to close the distance and get his own in to Liani. There was a sudden flash of light in the room, causing a complete freeze in time. The only one unaffected, was Liani. There stood in his usual light blue robes, Merlin. In the center of the room. The scene before them was the sword of the Rogrican nearly at Liani's heart, and Fionoch's sword too far out to close the space to Kratos' sword, which was already about to pierce his stomach. Another second, and Fionoch would be dead. "Forgive my lateness, Your Majesty."
Liani commanded her own swords as time stayed frozen and they knocked all other, except the Rogrican's, swords from their owners to the floor and returned to hovering above her. She stood from her throne and moved Out of harms way. “I would say perfect timing Merlin. Do you know of this tome they all speak of? It was bestowed to the late King of Dragons and sadly, I wasn’t taught about it before his passing 300 years ago.”
"I do. It is exactly as this young slave speaks of. I must sadly announce, my prophecy has come full circle." He glanced at Kratos. "It would have been better to let them keep their swords." He stated, a wave of his hand the two blades flew back in to the hands of Fionoch and Kratos. "That much must be done, or we may never see the new age of reason." He moved the already barely existing silk over on the slave's chest. The Triskelion birthmark over her right breast glowed softly with a blood red.
"She has Infrean's mark. She is somehow blessed by Clerin. Give the tome over, to Fionoch." He glanced at a clock across the room The time read 12:05 "Time is up, for Fionoch. There has already begun a change within him. This, is the twentieth week and he failed to take his final antidote. His lover will not get her wish, he is already in the ranks of the Gryphons. They are now on their way already. They shall be here within twenty minutes time of me releasing them."
“I trust your words, Merlin. I shall hand it over to Fionoch as you said.” Liani commanded her swords to hover at both sides of the Rogrican, their tips pointed right at his throat, for it was his sword that was almost to her own heart. “As for the Rogrican, he will be dealt with for that.” She pointed to where she had been sitting and where his sword was pointed. I shall return to my throne and let you release them.
"I must ask also, you spare this Rogrican...This young woman must endure yet another fifty years in his bondage before her time comes to assume her true place." Merlin turned to leave. As he was three steps away he stopped and turned back to Liani.
“One final thing. Your bond with the Hand will strengthen or break because of your bloodlines. You must strive to find the path that you can live with. If you choose the Hand, when the Chaos Knight appears in his life, you must not abandon him. The Hand will be cautious, fearful of a repeat of his life with this woman, that he again will be with Clerin. A time will come when he must choose between his honor and the true love of his life. Though he will pray for both it will be denied him. You must guide him on his path to choose, that will determine the very fate of both the Dragon and the Arelian kingdoms.” With out another word, the wizard vanished. Time resumed.
The Rogrican froze as he noticed that the two swords were at his throat. Fionoch seemed to have an inhuman speed as he moved. He ducked out of the way of the gutting and slammed in to Kratos' sword with his own, shattering it. As Kratos stared at it with a look of shock the Arelian sword flashed. Kratos gurgled as blood spurted out of his mouth. Another swing and his head came off entirely.
"AND YOU!" He shouted turning to the Rogrican. "What gives you any notion that you can promise Liani's bondage to that fool! I shall have your head myself!" He raised his sword, ready to strike but froze at a shout. It was the slave girl.
The girl had frozen in terror. "NO! PLEASE! Master, spare him...Mistress, please, this lowly slave begs you to have your knight spare her Master." Tears streamed down her face, fearful what may happen to her.
“ENOUGH!” she commanded “The Rogrican will be spared, but know this Duncan, try and take my life again and I wont spare you a second time. I have made my decision while the lot of you quarreled. I shall hand the tome over to Fionoch and only to him.” Her swords backed off, flickering slightly before returning to their hovering state above her.
"You dare think to threaten my life? You are a woman!" Fionoch was getting ready to kill yet again, his sword coming to a stance ready to strike. "Like all women you belong under MEN!" Before he could move, the room grew freezing cold. Holding the man by the shoulder with a clearly painful grip a man clothed in reindeer hide clothing with a polar bear mantel was gripping Duncan.
"Giving the Tome to Fionoch may prove to be a fatal mistake, Your Majesty. But, if that is your decision, I shall inform Her Majesty Boudicca of it after returning this filth to his homeland." The sound of a very large bird in pain sounded throughout the castle. A few moments later a woman holding a flail entered through the stones as if she was one with them.
"You shall have to take him alone now, Brother in Law...I just ended his steeds life." She glanced at Liani. "Your Majesty...So good to see you again...I do not know if you remember me. I was only a hatchling when you had visited Arelia so long ago...Lady Diona, of Kilmara." She curtsied as Aeguris vanished along with the Rogrican and slave girl.
Liani was on the verge of killing the Rogrican herself when the sudden chill filled her throne room. “It has been a long time. You have grown into a lovely lady, Diona.” The gryphoness blushed as Liani turned to Fionoch with a sigh “Fionoch, please do not let me regret turning the tome over to you, even though I do so under the guidance of a friend”.
Fionoch looked at Liani with a look of shock. "Majesty, as honored as I am, if it is to go to Her Majesty, it should go by one of the gryphons. Her Ladyship" He gestured to Diona "Is a perfect candidate." Diona looked from Fionoch to Liani. "Majesty, lest this become stalled. I shall take the Tome for now, and tomorrow morn, give it to Fionoch. You have my word as the Guardian of Kilmara." The Gryphoness bowed her head, sealing a solemn vow, unbreakable by the Gryphons.
She shook her head “No.. I must insist that it be Fionoch that is to be trusted with it.” She looked at Diona “I do not doubt your word, Diona. But I do have my own reasons for entrusting it to Fionoch and no one else.” She sat back in her throne and hoped that Merlin knew what he what doing by having her give the tome to Fionoch.
Fionoch nodded slowly, agreeing to accept the tome.
Liani smiled I shall have the Tome for you before you need to leave, Fionoch.
"We must leave soon, Majesty." Diona announced. "He will..." Diona looked questioningly at Fionoch as if she should say it "Be in immense pain very soon.""
Understood, Diona. “Then please make yourselves at home while I fetch the Tome from its resting place.” With that, Liani stood and left the throne room, a light blue-haired gentleman that had been at the door the entire time following her.
"What are you talking about, pain, Your Ladyship? I am fine. There was no harm done during the fight." Fionoch asked Diona with curiosity. "You did not take your final antidote, Fionoch...you are one of us, by tomorrow at dawn. This night will be the most painful you have ever felt. You will not sleep, I am certain." Diona began to explain the transformation to Fionoch as they waited for Liani
Liani stops outside the throne room door and turned to the gentleman that followed her “Togar, I need you to travel to Dragon Mountain and retrieve the Tome for me.”
"At once, My Queen. Will I be flying or taking a portal? "
“A portal as time is very short.” Togar nodded and opened a portal and stepped through. Moments later he returned and handed Liani the Tome. “Thank you very much, Togar. Now please take the twins out so they may practice, they were a little slow earlier.” He nodded and suddenly the swords flew from the throne room into the hall just as Liani walks back into the throne room \
“I do hope I did not keep you waiting long.”
"You did not, Majesty. But we must be going soon. Or else...I should not like to see this transformation here." Diona gestured for Fionoch to accept the tome. He steped forward and held out his hand. Liani met Fionoch in the middle of the room and handed him the Tome.
“It is understood Diona. No transformations of any kind should be done here, not even my own, for safety reasons.” The moment Fionoch had his hand on the Tome, he and Diona vanished from sight.

Fire and Earth
The afternoon went too quickly for Fionoch, he held the tome close to his body. Trusting no one, save Diona, to even look upon it. They finally stopped walking, and talking, in a little clearing near a river bed. The night was beginning to set in. The sky turned from it’s bright blue to a red as the sun burned it’s last for the day. It faded slowly in to a mixture of reds, yellows and blue, before turning to a dark blue, and growing darker until the black of night set in with a resounding silence. It was peaceful in the Fairyhaunt Woods…for most.
The night was indeed painful for Fionoch. He had very little rest. He twisted and turned all night. The entire time, Diona looked on at him in pity, wishing she could have withheld the pain from him. He had suffered enough pain to get to this point already. At one point of the evening, Diona could hear his bones cracking. She winced, only able to imagine how painful it had to be for him. She had been one of the lucky ones, hatched and given a human form through he intelligence. The only other one like her was Gestor, and he was several hundred years old. At last, at dawns first light, Fionoch fell in to a slumber.
As he fell to sleep, Diona took her form. An eight foot tall gryphoness with a soft brown color. She curled around Fionoch to keep him warm, as she could see the shivering of him. His blood was now the last to change, the only painless part of his transformation. All blood drained from his face, as it practically began to vanish from his body. He crew colder and colder for over half an hour until it was near painful for Diona herself to keep warm. It was almost like touching ice. At last, she felt his heart beat again, and the blood begin to warm him.
The warmth grew stronger each second, and soon Diona had to move away, feeling the heat of flames themselves. “So that is your calling…” She muttered, watching Fionoch. He began to smolder, literally as flames started to consume him. Diona did nothing to stop it. It had to be done. At last he was alight with a roaring flame. The gryphoness shielded herself with her wings from the heat. When it subsided, after several minutes Fionoch’s human form was gone, and there lay a gryphon.
If Diona had to guess, he would stand 12 feet from the ground to his shoulders, tall even for a gryphon. Most never made it past 10 feet. He had fire golden feathers and fur. His wings were spread out, an astounding 50 feet in length. Diona was rather impressed. He was the largest turned gryphon she had ever seen. Most this size were wild, and savage. She stepped over carefully and nudged him with her beak. Fionoch stirred, slowly standing up and looking at Diona. He towered over Diona, her guestimate right. Fionoch looked at himself, and squawked with shock.

The Phoenix Inn that morning had it’s usual patrons. Eden was sitting with Twili and her wolves, along with Kilamara, and Max. Wendy had just filled their drinks, though spilled a good deal of it. She had been in a moderate drunk the last few weeks, trying to get over Fintan’s death. She refused to speak of why she felt so strong, when the others all held their heads high and carried on. She took it the worst perhaps.
“Fionoch has been gone all day, Twili. Have you seen him?” Eden asked, taking a sip of wine. The lycan however was in a state of thought. Very deep thought at that. She was trying to put together the words she had been told the night before. Or rather, trying to decide whether to announce them to anyone else.
” I don’t see the big deal, just tell her that she can’t get her way all the time…” Usko muttered under his breath. Cera nipped his tail, though let go without any real pain. “Oh dear Mother Nature…” Usko caught a glimpse of Berri crouched playfully as she played with a spider.
“Do you like to wrestle, Mr. Spider? Let’s wrestle!” She pounced on the spider and leapt off. Her head quirked as she waited for retaliation. The spider now lay motionless on the floor. “Mr. Spider?” She nudged the arachnid trying to get it’s deceased attention.
“I agree unfortunately, why hide what will come out eventually….Sister, I don’t think that the spider liked the pounce…” Cera replied as the door opened. In stepped a man clad in a black tartan. Black hair was running down just slightly past his shoulders. His beard matched, with some slight white marbling in it. A long broad sword with a basket hilt on his side had its hilt decorated with lightening bolts. Beside him was an elder looking man in fine silks. What ever hair he had on his head was hidden by his turban, though his moustache was grayed from the years. A beautifully crafted scimitar hung from his side. They slowly walked over to the group, only to be met by Kilamara’s voice first.
“Yes, ladies, how may we help you? Oh…Excuse me…I did not know it was fashion now for men to wear skirts and dresses.” Usko howled in laughter and rolled over on the floor his paws kicking the air from Kila’s statement. The man in black narrowed his eyes. A flash of lightening split the sky outside. The older man just chuckled.
“I am Duke Gestor of the Kingdom of Arelia, this is my fast tempered associate, Count Orian. We came seeking family or friends of His Lordship, Fionoch dar Grapach.” Eden stood up instantly as the man finished.
“I’m Eden, his betrothed, Your Graces. Has something happened?” She sounded worried. Cera nudged Usko to hush. Berri paid them no mind, still nudging the dead spider with her nose.
“Nothing bad, Miss Eden, I assure you.” Gestore sounded joyful, which caused Eden’s worry to lessen, though she remained cautious. Twili now looked wary, almost certain she knew what it was Gestor was going to tell her. Orian stepped forward and finished bluntly.
“Fionoch has finally joined our ranks, becoming a Gryphon. Chances are he will have the Protectorate of the Gurie Provence.” He paused to let the news sink in. “This is quite a blessing if you ask me. Gurie has needed a protector for some time now, and who better than the Queen’s Army’s own commander. He is...now somewhat like you, Miss Eden. He will last much longer in life, though he may not join you in eternity. You can expect at least five or six hundred centuries with him, at the very least. A millennia if you are lucky.”
“HOW CAN YOU SAY THIS IS A BLESSING! I FELL IN LOVE WITH A HUMAN NOT SOME OVERGROWN FLYING CAT!” She shrieked in complete anger. Twili and Cera shrink back. Berri poked her head over the table and dropped the spider on it.
“The spider doesn’t want to play anymore…” Her ears drooped. Eden shot the wolf a look of confusion and annoyance.
“Control your wolf, Twili. That is disgusting!” Usko growled at Eden for taking the tone.
“The spider is dead.” Orian pointed out. Berri looked at the spider and then back to Orian.
“Dead? He doesn’t like wrestling? Oh! Butterfly! Mr. Butterfly!!” Berri caught glimpse of a butterfly outside and jumped over the table and went after it. She earned a sincere chuckle from Orain for the antic.
“I like her.” Orain chuckled out.
“Miss Eden, I assure you this is a wonderful thing to happen to your future husband.” Gestore tried to explain, but Eden would not have anything of it. She instantly stormed out of the Inn, leaving a large hand print from a slap on Gestore’s face. As they stood there in shock, not knowing what to think or say, Berri came back in.
A butterfly in her mouth she plopped it on the table like she did the spider. “Mr. Ladyman, did Mr. Butterfly not like playing catch?” She asked Orian. The group just stared at her with a quizitive and humorous stare.

“You do not seem shocked, or afraid of this change.” Diona confessed her shock to Fionoch. He had received the news well, and did not seem at all phased that he now stood twice his normal height. He was walking around the small clearing, getting the hang of walking on four legs and being so much larger.
“I have…prayed to join these ranks for years now. I only hope that Eden is not…troubled by this.” He confessed in return.
“If she truly loves you, she will accept you as you are.” Diona’s voice was calm and understanding. “The way you speak of her, I would think she is nothing like my former husband.”
“What happened? If I may be so bold.”
“Certainly. I spent most of my early life in my human form, trying to live amongst the humans. I met a man that I fell in love with, but it was not returned when I confessed my secret. He left me…and Arelia. Rather than the love of a woman, and the protection of the Kingdom, he took to the pleasures of slaves in Rogric. Duncan …turned out to be a less than pure soul.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Join me in the air, Fionoch. Take your first flight and seal your bond.” Diona invited him, changing the subject. “You must only let your instincts guide you. But with caution. Do not let them over run you or you will become like a wild gryphon, untamed and savage. They know nothing of civility. We are the few left who can control their wild side, and remain somewhat human.” Diona stepped back from Fionoch and leapt in to the skies. She soared around the clearing at a low altitude while waiting.
Fionoch dug inside himself, focusing on what he wanted to do and crouched. Using his new gained powerful rear legs he leapt, at least fifteen feet in to the air and spread his wings. He caught himself by continuously flapping, and rose slowly higher.
“Lean forward, and glide down, you will gain speed enough to climb back up.” Diona advised him when he was around forty feet in the air and looked exhausted from the constant flapping. He took the advice and glided down to ten feet, before turning upwards with enough speed that he shot over the trees. Fionoch was airborne.
He and Diona soared over the Forest of Helios, passing over the Phoenix Inn. As he looked around, Fionoch was amazed at the sight. The most beautiful sights he had ever seen were those of the lakes and rivers reflecting the light of the sun. Such beautiful light.

Darkness, such crushing darkness. It seemed to suck the life and the breath out of everything. No one could possibly live in such darkness. And yet, there walked a figure alone. He seemed clothed in shadows, the shadows formed what would have been a shirt, trousers, boots, armor, and a cape. Suddenly the figure stopped. His hand extended he felt stone, and iron. It was a gated wall. He pushed on the iron with all he had, and was met by the moaning and wailing of pain from the small crack that he managed to get open.
An emerald green eye glanced through the crack to see the source of the wailing. There were men and women, aflame. Others, tied to racks and being fileted by creatures that looked like distorted men. At one glance there was a woman being ….He turned his head and started away, until he felt a grip on his shoulder. He turned to see one of the men grabbing him and pulling him backwards. The figure fought all he could but was unable to break away from it. He was pulled behind the gates, as they slammed shut.
“Fintan de Marin.” A woman’s voice spoke as he was tied to a rack next to a poor soul. “Welcome to Hell. I have wondered where your soul was…And here all we had to do was look in to Purgatory.” He barely managed to make out the figure of a stunningly beautiful woman, clad in nothing at all. “Enough pleasantries, shall we begin?”
Fintan was unable to answer, he had been gagged. “But before we do…” She leaned in and whispered. “I will be your tormentor for eternity, my name is Lilith.” As her knife came in contact with Fintan’s flesh he smelled it burning. Before she could make a slice in his skin a whip cracked. Screams of darkness deafened the screams of the damned. Several more whip cracks rang out.
“Lilly…It’s been too long.” A woman of similar beauty stood before the pair. An orange dress covered her body, and the whip belonged to her, as it was loosely held in her hand. “Excuse me for interrupting, but Our Lord and Lady demand his presence in the Heavens, as Father and Mother request it in Avalon. You will have to do this another time.” The demon could say nothing, she backed off, furious that she had lost who she did. With another crack of the whip, the dark flame lit room was gone, and Fintan stood in a brightly lit area.
He could hardly see anything at all. But the light grew dimmer with time. When he could see, he was surrounded by winged beings of remarkable beauty. While Lilith’s was that which would cause lust, these beings were a beauty that established a peace in Fintan. Most were clad in white robes.
“And so…That makes only two people to die and come out of Hell. I hope you don’t think this makes you special.” One of them spoke. He wore a dazzling gold breastplate and light armor.
“Get over yourself Virgil. Just because Michael is taking a vacation…is no reason for you to get so over cocky” The woman remarked.
“Watch yourself, Cleigh, you are sill in Heaven and under Our Father’s rule, thus our…”
“No….We were made separate of you arrogant Celestials. We actually have compassion for the humans, rather than using them pawns against Hell and protecting them too late, we actually try to DEFEND THEM. As God charged us! But you soldiers…”
“Cleigh…Lady of the Lake Cleigh?” Fintan interrupted. The goddess turned and nodded softly.
“Not what you were expecting is it? Now, if you excuse me the immortals are talking dear. I will answer all questions shortly.”
“Get this in your head now, Fintan.” Virgil said walking closer. “If I catch one hint of arrogance in you, I will not hesitate to…”
“You are not Michael, Virgil…You should also mind your tongue to the Hand of your better.” Argument quickly ensued. The light became so blinding that Fintan ha to duck away just to be able to keep his balance. His eyes stayed shut, and covered by his hands. Fintan felt a hand on his shoulder once again, but before he could say anything, Heaven disappeared from before his eyes.
He stood in a courtyard of stone. It looked like a castle, with out the walls. There stood before him a circle of thrones. Beautifully crafted thrones, though they were in different sects. Thrones of gold that were without a back sat together, twelve in the row. Thrones of a sandstone were together, numbering eight in total. Wooden thrones with tartans draped on them were six in total, though one had torn tartan on it. Finally, stone thrones with furs on them were thirteen in total.
Forms began to materialize in the thrones. Fintan watched with amazement. At last, after a few moments waiting all but the wooden throne with the torn black and red tartan was filled.
“This is the mortal to take the title? Does not look like much. Besides, he is still imprisoned in the orb, why let him out and risk death to so many again?” The speaker was a man in one of the golden thrones, who’s black beard was marbled with white so that it looked like lightening.
“Calm yourself, Zeus. Always tearing people down, who may prove to be worthy warriors…I never will understand you. And you call yourself a lord of the sky.” One of the men in the stone thrones spoke, twirling a very heavy looking hammer in his fingers as if it were a twig.
“The question…” A man with a falcon’s head spoke from the sand stone thrones. All of those in them seemed to have the head of an animal, but body of a human! “Is does he possess the fortitude to accomplish his task better than his predecessor.”
“He already handled Hell better than Dante did, that’s for damned sure. I thought he was going to faint when he climbed out.” A woman in armor in one of the golden thrones spoke.
“Forgive them, Fintan. You do not know any of us do you?” A gentle faced woman in the wooden throne with a tartan of red and blue spoke. “You know of the Veil, so we shant bother that explanation.” She stood and walked towards the mortal. “We, are the Masters of Avalon.” She gestured to the others with her.
“I am a wear of you, Mother Berthis, I am in shock of the others.” Fintan said softly, his head bowed.
“Then let me explain…The gods of Olympus” She held her hand out to Zeus and his children. “The Lords of….Forgive me, I can never say your…”
“The Netherworld.” The dog headed man stated. “Gods of Egypt.”
“Thank you, Anubis.” Berthis bowed her head before moving on. “And the Lord of Valhalla and Asgard, Gods of the North.” The goddess stood and stepped towards Fintan. “You know of the legends of the Hands, I trust?”
“No, Mother, I do not.”
“They are our human servants on earth, directly performing our will. They live until we call them, or until they betray our trust and we must end them. There is one for each of us.” She gestured to the rest of her family. “All of Avalon has a Hand on earth. The Greeks have their children doing their work, the Northerners have warriors who pledge their lives, and the Old gods have their priests.”
“And you want me as a Hand? Of which of you?”
“You have never known of him.” Herne stated as he stood. His tartan a green and red wrapped around him. His antlers were what shocked Fintan, he knew the legends, but he never believed that much of them. “He’s my younger brother.”
“He’s the one the Angels hate” Cleigh announced. “He makes these three…” She gestured to Anubis, Loki, and Hades. “Look like children with their works of destruction. During the Battle of Heaven, when Michael cast Lucifer out, Clerin cast out the demons along side him. He vowed then that he would eventually destroy them for their treachery.” The three gods gestured to looked offended. Hades was starting to glow dark with flames.
“You pledged your service to him on your deathbed. I will offer you this time to renounce it. For my son is…not the most noble of us…Get over it Hades, you torment humans, poorly with a three headed dog.” Berthis stated, not even looking back to see the god of death.
“I am not done with my works on earth…” Was Fintan’s only comment. The Mother Goddess nodded softly and placed a hand on his head.
“Then, with wolf and dragon, sword and shot, serve forever, The Lord of Death, Misery, Pain, Darkness, Humanity, and Love.” Fintan was puzzled by the words, but before he could speak, everything was dark again. He felt a stinging sensation coursing through him. His mind was becoming a fog of memories, old memories he had not dwelled on in years. The death of his parents, the loss of the woman he had loved for so long, Grace, the loss of half his men in Coltran during the Daron campaign. All of it, causing his mind to slip in to a weakened state, before the darkness began to torment him, driving him to near insanity.

Morgana stopped dead in her tracks as she entered the Inn. There laid on every table a silver rose, shimmering in the light. A cough behind her made the sorceress jump slightly. She turned to see a woman with short hair waiting to get in. “Excuse me, child.” The sorceress said moving further in and sitting at her usual table. She picked up the rose with a soft smile. There were three words inscribed: I am coming. Morgana muttered these words with a smile of jubilation.
“Um…excuse me, do you know where the bartender is?” The woman asked as she waited by the bar.
Morgana never looked over, she was too busy staring at the rose. “Incapacitated as usual probably. What can I get you?”
“Earl Grey tea please?”
“Never heard of it…will you have Earl Camdon tea? It’s an Arelian blend of black tea and spices.”
“Uh, sure.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Just sugar.” Morgana tapped her staff at the answer. There appeared before the woman a cup of tea with steam rolling off of it. She took it and gingerly sipped. It was the perfect heat, and sweetness. She smiled at it and continued sipping slowly. “It’s kindda dead in here isn’t it?”
“Yes…Since Fintan died, the place has been rather gloomy. Winifred, or Wendy as she is affectionately called, has taken to the bottle. Which is why she is not serving…” She retained her smile as she spun the rose in her fingers. “Most here you will find are still mourning the loss.”
“Oh, I’m sorry…how long ago was it?”
“About five months.” The woman blinked.
“The bartender has been drunk off her ass for five months? And people are still mourning the loss? He must have been someone special.”
“He was…to all of us. He was a brother in arms, a pupil, an advisor, a protector, a friend…He was much to many.” Morgana paused and decided to change subjects. “You’ve never been here before, what’s your name?”
“Erissa, Erissa NeoKnight. Yours?”
“Erissa NeoKnight?” Morgana asked with a look of hope in her eye. The woman nodded slowly, wondering if the sorceress was insane. Morgana stood up and walked over. Placing her hands on Erissa’s shoulders she kissed both cheeks. “I am Morgana le Fey, advisor to Queen Boudicca of Arelia.” Before Morgana could say another word, Fionoch barged in to the room.
“Morgana!” He looked excited, and had the open Tome of Darkness in his hand. “I must speak with you, this is urgent.” Eden walked in behind him, looking upset and annoyed. Morgana nodded and gestured towards the stairs, where the pair began their assent. Eden took a seat across the room from Erissa, not even asking for a drink.

“What is it, Fionoch?”
“The Isle of Erlise.” He said, and that was all he had to say as he held the scroll.
“Read it aloud, that I know your mind is right.” She sounded slightly worried and excited at the same time.
Fionoch unrolled the scroll and read the passage. “The Isle of Darkness lying off the coast of Hyrlie serves as the final resting place of the dark orb.” He paused and finished speaking. “When Boudicca renamed Hyrlie to Hydroia she sent an excursion of merchants to the Island. No one returned, and they named it “The Isle of Erlise’ to mean.”
“Death, I know. I speak Arelian, Commander” She laughed.
“Yes…The orb is here…this orb could change so much in the world, if only we use it.” Morgana put her hand on Fionoch’s and looked directly in to his eyes.
“You must be careful, Fionoch. Fintan’s dream lead us here, he saw this. This is the turning point of history. If you are strong enough, go, take the orb. But, if there is a single shred of doubt in your mind…”
“I am more than capable of taking this orb for Arelia.” He answered proudly and firmly. That was not what Morgana wanted to hear, but rather the opposite. But, Finonoch was as proud as Fintan and would not allow himself to be under achieved.
“I do not doubt this, Fionoch…but you must be careful. You must not forget who is imprisoned in this orb.”
“I am a gryphon…we are to protect our lands. Gurie is under my protection. Who better to free than the god of humanity and protection?”
“Do not forget, he is the god of death and misery as well. The last gryphon to try and free him murdered the only one he loved…His heart is ice now.” She left out that she meant it literally.
“Morgana, I must do…” Both froze at a scream downstairs. It was a scream of defiance but it alerted both to rush down instantly.
Erissa had a sword drawn and was fighting off a pair of men in bronze armor; Rogricans. Twenty in total, what they were doing in the Westlands was anyone’s guess. Another four were fighting back two other men who seemed to be trying to get closer to Erissa. Westland guards had been alerted and were rushing in, but were being cut down like grass by the better soldiers. Fionoch’s sword was drawn before he got off the stairs. He launched himself at one of the Rogricans.
Outside there was a battle starting to ensue. Twili and her wolves were fighting together tail to tail encircling the archer as she picked off straglers. A young man with black hair was dueling with a stout looking Rogrican. Kila and Eden had vanished, but there were trails of bloody corpses leading to the forest. Liani and young man were standing side by side with Ryujin fighting off a group of soldiers. Night Angel was vanishing every time one of the blades nearly hit him and reappearing behind the man, taking on three at a time.
“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN LED TO THIS RIDICULOUSLY RANDOM BATTLE?!” Morgana shouted, blasting one of the soldiers through the Inn wall with a powerful tap from her staff.
“More of a skirmish I think, Morgana.” Fionoch stated as he gutted one of the soldiers before moving on to one of the ones Erissa was fighting.
“Who the hell are these mofos?!’ Erissa shouted towards the man with black hair next to her.
“No idea sis.” He returned crunching one of the breastplates with a heavy punch from a spiked gauntlet.
“Rogricans, Lass.” Fionoch called, ending the life of the soldier in front of Erissa. “Slavers by the look of it.”
Outside, over three dozen of the Rogricans had swarmed the Inn, for whatever reason. They were trying to fight their way away from it, but were forced to try and rush in. When met with the three brawlers, the soldier and the sorceress, they decided better and attempted to run. Unfortunately, it came at a consequence to the Inn. On the run out they knocked over candles which quickly caught on the fabrics. The Inn was soon in flames.
“Hey…Cera…I smell family!” Berri said happily as she left the screaming Rogrican that was missing a leg now.
“What family, Berri?” Cera asked, looking over with a bloody muzzle. “REALLY USKO! THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!” The male had a pair of what looked like fleshy lumps in his mouth and a bloodied crotch Rogrican less than two feet away.
“What? I said I would bite someone’s balls off!”
“Twili’s family! Over there…oooh, they’re playing with the mean men…” The wolf looked in the direction of which she was speaking. Katie Osiris, and another woman were over the shoulders of two men, along with Saribi and Schu. Twili glanced over and noticed her elder sister being run off with. Notching an arrow she began to take aim slowly. As she was about to release there was a loud bang. Some kind of explosion rumbled the entire area, causing a near earthquake.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” The group coming out of the Inn shouted as they coughed the smoke from their lungs. In front of the Rogrican’s was a young man almost the size of a small giant. His fists were glowing with a dark energy that gave even Morgana a worried look.
“Put…my…little…sisters…down.” His words boomed like the words of a god in the old myths. Without hesitation, the Rogricans did so, fearful they may become driven in to the dirt if they did not. Almost instantly they started to retreat. No one bothered giving chase.
“Thank you, Reaper!” Katie yelled up. Saribi was grumbling that she could have taken them but was too busy helping her daughter to really say anything worth noting. The Rogricans gave a war shout as they charged a second time. Everyone prepared for a crash. Morgana raised her staff creating a shield for them to crash on. The force field allowed every one a few more minutes respite to regain themselves.
The man with Liani was going around healing cuts and scrapes sustained by anyone. Just as Morgana was about to collapse from exhaustion, the magic needed to sustain the shield taking its toll someone yelled in the distance such a yell that silenced everyone.
On the edge of the forest two banners were waving under a small, but well equipped looking guard. The banners of the Graywind family and the Royal Arelian standard. The guards that were readying for battle bore the boar crest on their armor; Boar Soldiers, the Queen’s personal bodyguards. King Graywind stood amount a tall black horse next to a woman with fire red hair, who sat a few inches taller than him even though her horse was slightly smaller. Fionoch slowly sank to a knee, his head bowed at the appearance of his Queen on the field.
“I go to retrieve the Arelian Queen and escort her to the Dragon Kingdom, and we are met with battle!? What foolishness has engulfed you all?!” King Graywind shouted in anger and frustration.
“To no fault be it theirs, Graywind.” Boudicca stated, her sword slowly being drawn. “These dogs would wage war with anyone attempting to hinder their operations of kidnapping and slavery….Gentlemen.” Her word caused the cavalry to lower their spears. “Show them Arelia’s power.”
The horses neighed, the cavalry shouted, the spears flashed, hell was unleashed on the Rogricans as Morgana’s shield came down. A dozen spears tore in to the light armor of the Rogricans, as magic and steel was met on the reverse. They were trapped between a rock and a hard place with no option to run. Many threw down their arms hoping to surrender, only to be met by merciless Arelian Boar Soldiers. Within minutes most lay dead, others were fighting on in vain. Morgana stood back and watched the gore unfold.
Her eyes were on one Rogrican in particular. He stood taller than the others, and was fighting like a savage. Four Arelian soldiers had already fallen, and six dismounted from their now dead horses. The black haired young man who had fought near Twili was wounded, and had to withdraw. Liani was tending to her daughters, protecting them as only a mother and a dragon could. Schuana and her mother had disappeared, to no one’s surprise. Erissa and the two men with her were simply trying to figure out what was going on. Reaper had disappeared, no one having even seen him leave. The man with Liani had started trying to heal the wounded Arelian soldiers as their brothers continued the fight. Twili was still picking Rogricans off, but was being guided away by her wolves.
That one tall Rogrican was now alone, encircled by the group and soldiers. A single word called the soldiers off. “Halt.” Boudicca stood on her feet, sword in hand and amidst the dead. She stepped forward her sword coming up. “You enslave us, for your pleasure. So it is my pleasure as Queen Boudicca Gurie, Queen of Arelia to take your life.”
Her sword swung and was met by the bronze sword of the Rogrican. Sparks flew as they met a second and third time. The Rogrican made an attempt at parrying, which was successful, but then tried tackling Boudicca to the ground. He was met by a very well timed front kick, knocking him back on his rear. He went to raise his sword but had it pinned to the ground by the Queen’s boot. Her sword now at his throat. “No woman fights like that.” He grunted
The shameless queen smirked “Know without the shadow of a doubt, it was a woman that killed you.” With her free hand she pulled down her bodice and revealed her breasts, just before running the sword in to the man’s heart.
Morgana leaned in to Fionoch. “Go…Find the orb, this cannot happen on a larger scale.” The gryphon needed no further prompting. Without a moment’s hesitation he took to the skies.

Even with the magical help from Morgana, and Midna the rebuilding of the Inn too most of the summer. Finally, on the first day of Autumn it was ready for service again. Morgana saw no more of Erissa nor the two men with her during the summer, putting her in to a slight dismay. It was matched only by the worry for Fionoch, who had not been heard from since his departure over two months ago. Though what became known as the Phoenix Skirmish had resulted in a close friendship between many of the people there.
Draygo, who had fought next to Twili spent time in the Inn writing down tales. He was a young man, who Morgana often reffered to as the “Olympian Hand”. He wore black with a bronze breastplate. He was quiet, keeping mostly to himself at the Inn, aside from his chats with Twili. However, he was quick to ready to fight if one seemed like it was about to break out.
The woman who had been with Katie, Havenn, spent time in the fields nearby, sketching out the scenery. Often, she was in the company of Kilamara, asking questions about Rogue with earnest. She also spoke with Twili, who gave such vivid descriptions that Havenn had to speak to her with sketchbook in hand. She wore a black corset, and soft brown leggings with boots up to the thigh. Her long carmel hair was often free to flow in the wind. She wore a short sword, though no one ever saw her use it.
The Phoenix Inn took the entire summer to rebuild, but in the last days of September, it was ready to open its doors once more. As a parting gift, Boudicca provided seven barrels of dark ale, malt beer, Guriean whiskey, spiced red wine, and a sweet wine made from the Galin Berry. Luckily the basement was unharmed from the fire, and the barrels within were unharmed.
Along with the rebuilding of the Inn, Wendy’s long drunk came to an end. No one knew for sure why it ended so suddenly. Some said she was afraid of destroying her great grandfather’s Inn a second time. Others thought she became so drunk she came full circle to sober. Whatever the reason, Wendy’s long drunk finally ended, and she resumed her duties with glee.
Though Rogue’s memory lingered heavy in the air, the gloom and grief was finally subsiding. Twili’s grief did not subside as quickly as it did with the others, her first loss the hardest. Fintan had been her first friend in the Westlands after all. However, she moved on with the help of Midna and her wolves. Her talks with Havenn also served to ease the pain, a picture becoming more clear in her own head of her friend. It was at Boudicca’s last evening that Morgana grew fearful, for a dark glitter was in Twili’s ear that night.

Boudicca entered the Inn, her guards tailing her like shadows. A packaged wrapped in a cream colored cloth was under her arm. It sounded with every move like mettle hitting on wood within the wrapping.
“Havenn.” She said softly, announcing her presence.
“Your Majesty” Havenn shot up from her seat. “Thank you so much for coming!”
“A pleasure.” The queen set the package down on the couch next to a leather tube that belonged to Havenn. She untied it and revealed the contents of a long sword, a rose on the pommel, a long shafted bearded axe that had tribal floral designs on the blade, and four long wooden shafts that were clearly made as a frame. A gold plaque on one of the pieces had silver writing centered in it, spelling out the name “Captain Fintan ‘Rogue’ de Marin” and the phrase from the Arelian oath of service that he lived by “Without loyalty, life is worthless”
“May I inquire as to why you requested Fintan’s weapons and the framing?”
Havenn opened the leather tube and pulled out a portrait size sketching of Fintan. His hood was pulled up, though a smirk and his two braids were visible under it. TO his right side he held his sword. His chain mail and shirt were visible as well, along with the straps that held his sheaths and other items. Boots that came to the thigh, with his leggings tucked in. Boudicca nearly teared up at the accuracy of the portrait.
“I thought it would make a nice memorial for Rouge. I know I never met him, but it still seems right to me.” Havenn explained. Boudicca took the portrait in her hands and smiled gently.
“It is beautiful…I shall have paints brought for you, that you may color this.”
“With respect, Majesty…the stories tell me that Rogue was a very colorful character, but, he was secretive. Color could not do him justice in this, the shades of gray and black portray his secrecy which everyone came to love. It shows him how he is, a rogue, a soldier, a friend, and a fighter. Or so I think.”
“You are wise beyond your years girl…Frame this if you wish. But where do you intend to put it?”
“With Your Majesty’s grace, I was going to ask Wendy to hang it above the bar, with his effects. He watched over the patrons in life…he shall watch them in death.” She smiled meekly.
Boudicca smiled and set the picture down. Putting her shoulders on Havenn’s shoulders she leaned down and kissed both cheek. “Avalon protect Captain de Marin.” She gave her blessing.
That evening a young man sat on the couch infront of the hearth. He removed the pipe from his lips and released a long breath of smoke. The scent of roses and vanilla lingered as the smoke faded. He and Draygo were chatting about Arelian and Westland battle tactics. Both agreeing that the professionalism, and the diciplin of the Arelians was far superior to the rambling horde of the Westlands.
The stranger wore simple clothing, somewhat ragged from long travels. A boar skin tunic with iron studing was unfastened over a tan shirt that was unlaced at the neck. Black trousers of wool were tucked in to worn leather boots laced up to the knee. A pair of belts wrapped about his waist, holding up either pouches, or his dagger and his sword frog. Though the sword was removed for comfort and rested beside him within quick reach. The weapon itself was long and and broad, yet slinder enough that it would not hinder travel.
“Miss Twili! What can I get you deary?” Wendy called, setting down two glasses of wine for the men.
Twili had shut the door as quiet as a mouse as she entered. She held her nose the instant she saw smoke, fearful of the pungent smell. “Just a berry juice please, Wendy…” She said with her ears back, dislikeing the vibe of the smell. She held a black book close to her chest.
“Hey, Twili” Draygo called before sipping his wine.
“Hi, Draygo…” Twili called back keeping her distance.
“Don’t worry, it smells nice actually.” He said gesturing to the man. “This is….” He blinked, realizing something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Twili slowly took a sniff, and smiled at the very pleasant smell.
“That’s of no importance.” He said, breathing out again. His accent was almost like Rogue’s. He paused for a moment. “But if you must call me by something, call me Red Stag.”
Twili rose a brow. Yet another secretive person with a sword and a cute accent. “Um…alright, nice to meet you, Red Stag.” The man inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“You knew Rogue?” He asked softly, puffing on the pipe. At Twili’s nod he blew a thin stream of smoke out that shifted itself in to a rose. “How?” He drew again.
“He was my first true friend here. You?”
He blew out, answering “I am one of his informants.”
“A spy?”
“Scout…or as the Westlands call me, a Ranger.” Glances were instantly thrown at the man.
The bell rang from beside the bar. “Twenty minutes to closing time!” Wendy called. Liani walked in with Eden, Schuana, and Sarabi almost instantly.
As the time passed, people started to trickle out. Finally, only fourteen remained. All those who knew Fintan. Wendy was calling them all towards the bar. She poured everyone a glass of whiskey from an unmarked bottle. The scent was that of roses, making Twili raise a brow at it. Eden pushed it away, not wishing to drink and risk harm to her unborn children. Wendy nodded understandingly and poured her a glass of water instead once the others were served.
“I would prefer blood wine, thank you, Wendy.” Schu stated pushing the whiskey away. “A princess should not drink such a vulgar drink such as whiskey. How a gentleman like Rogue did is beyond me.”
“Ouch…” Red Stag muttered seeing the drop dead looks everyone was giving her. Leaning closer to Twili he whispered. “Who is she?”
“Rogue’s killer….more or less” She replied at a whisper.
“And she’s still alive?” He asked, his hand going to his sword.
“I NEVER KILLED ROGUE DAMN YOU, AUNT TWILI!” She screamed, making Morgana nearly drop her glass. “I loved him, and knew him better than any of you!” She glared before adding. “And his death hurts me far more than it could any of you!”
Red Stag was about to speak on behalf of the entire Arelian army the way he was poised, and Morgana’s expression said she lost all patience. However, at the holding up of her hand, Boudicca silenced both. “I am certain, Miss Osiris.”
“Princess.”
“Miss Osiris” Boudicca repeated, a very blunt way of saying she did not recognize any noble blood in the girl, causing Sarabi to growl softly. “You will never understand the pain felt from his death that his mother feels.”
“He has no living family, you’re his queen and you do not even know this?” She scoffed. “They died when he was only two!”
“Murdered, at age eight, actually…” She corrected Schu to Morgana’s amusement. “And he found his way to a Guriean peasant woman with two daughters.”
“He has no sisters-”
Boudicca cut her off. “Not that he speaks of. Do not speak of things you do not know, silly girl.” Sarabi growled louder at the reprimand of her daughter. Boudicca ignored it. “I took him in as a child, and you do not know the pain of loosing a loved one that a mother feels. Nor shall you ever. I doubt you could get fucked if you were a whore who was paying for the fucking.”
“YOU WATCH YOUR TONGUE YOU INSOLENT….” Sarabi was cut off by the shock of having a pair of swords drawn at her. Both Boudicca’s and Red Stags. Eden rolled her eyes.
“All of you, calm down for darkness’ sake! Stop behaving like children.”
“Daughter, you need to leave, both of you. Now.” Liani stated firmly. Without a word, Schua and Sarabi left the Inn, the girl sobbing at the accusations made against her yet again.
Havenn cleared her throat, changing the subject instantly once eyes were on her “Thank you for all coming…Wendy and I both have something to reveal to you. I will let Wendy go first.”
“Hopefully, the fruits of my drunk will not be in vain.” Wendy said with a chuckle. “Before Havenn reveals her work…This is the cause of my drunk for the past months. Rogue will always be at this Inn, and a home spirit should announce that. I spent months working on this…Rogue Whiskey, his favorite whiskey made with waters from Arelia and the petals of roses, aged in rose wood barrels…I hope you enjoy. To Rogue!”
Everyone repeated the toast and rose their glasses before drinking them down. There was no burn, and the taste of rose was prominent, as was a sweetness that was rumored to come from Kilmarin spring water. As the whiskey was poured for a second toast, Havenn pulled the cloth off the portrait. It was framed in oak, a simple oak frame with no frill. A gold plaque with silver writing bore “Captain Fintan ‘Rogue’ de Marin” along with a quote that Fintan had once told Boudicca, who asked it to be put on the plaque. “Without loyalty, life is worthless”. Below was his sword and axe, crossed together over his cloak.
“As I said, I did not know him. But I have heard enough of Fintan that I know he watched over the patrons of this bar, why should it be any different in his death?” Everyone clapped softly.
“A fitting memorial.” Liani said nodded with approval.
“Indeed it is, I am proud to see my stepson has had such an impact on so many.”
“To Rogue!” Red Stag called raising his glass again. “That we may never forget that solom vow. Without loyalty, life is worthless!” Boudicca echoed the oath.
“We don’t have to worry though.” Twili said taking her toast. “Soon, he will be back. And everyone will be happy again.” Morgana at that moment caught a glimpse of the book Twili held. Her face lost all color. She said nothing as another and final drink was poured. Again, everyone drank to Fintan, the final day of September slipping away. October, the month of the harvest, the month of magic, the month of darkness, the month of the dead, fell as the bell tolled midnight. Morgana, knew she must do something, or hell would be unleashed.

Erlise was a large island, only two hundred miles off the coast of Arelia. It was rumored to have riches that was unparalleled anywhere else. Naturally this sparked interest from the countries around it. Particularly Arelia, the Westlands, and the D’Hara. The Trow had said to have been stranded here shortly after their defeat by the Arelian Provisional Army. Though no one had ever returned from an expedition alive, except twelve men. Of those twelve, seven were not of their right mind, and four killed themselves within a fortnight of being back on shore. The rest died within a week of their wounds. Each one mentioned something in common “Voices in the darkness.”
Despite the legends of darkness, one thing was certain of Erlise. It was a beautiful country. Forests sweeping the valleys, rivers and meadows. It was as if it came from a fairytale. Fionoch’s flight, though long, was a pleasant one with such scenery. At last he found a decent size tree and fluttered down to it.
Using his wings for breaks, he landed on a branch. “If I died now, I can say I saw true beauty.” He looked around the scenery. Slowly, his own mind grew vain. He realized how majestic he looked amongst the beauty. Such a perfect combination. A gryphon in the wilds, untouched by man. What could be better. He put his weight on his rear paws, placing all of his weight on the tree limb. Just as he let out a majestic caw he let out a shocked screech instead.
Fionoch looked beside him at the broken tree limb that lay splintered on the ground, and rubbed his sore flank with his wing. “Blasted tree….” He grumbled starting to walk away. He was unharmed…save his pride.
One old legend came to mind as he walked down the path. The Trow had been banished to this island. A single Trow was nothing to him, nor were ten or twenty. They were not brave creatures, nor smart. At least not until they attacked in droves of hundreds or thousands. Maybe the gryphon could fight off a few dozen, but eventually he would be over run. His only hope was that the Trow tribes did not unite to create a large enough faction to take him on alone.
Shadows moving in the trees every now and then did not put his mind at ease. He grew slower as he walked, hearing movement only feet away from him. At last his suspicions were proven true. Fifteen trow scouts jumped out of the brush nearby him. Their primitive swords and spears brandishing at him. On a hunch, the gryphon spread his wings and let out a terrifying screech that pierced through the morning air. It echoed for what seemed like minutes after he finished. The Trow froze, not sure what to do or say. After thinking about it for a minute, they took off running. They ran off in such a hurry that they dropped what ever they were holding.
Fionoch chuckled to himself for his idea. Knowing the trow the way he did, they generally kept valuables in their thick wooden shields. Why, he had no idea. They just did. “For Rogue.” He said softly, remembering how the man often looted the dead after a fight to see if they had anything valuable on him. He found little of any worth, mostly trow coins, beads, tuffs of animal hair. Though there were a few objects of possible value. They were stones that were solid white. Fionoch resumed his human form and picked them up, examining them carefully. Onyx, white onyx. A stone thought no longer to exist in the West. How Trow came in to possession was beyond him. He put them in his pouch, and took flight again.
His flight did not last long, a massive structure came in to view. A castle, atop a hill. Solid white with a black roof. There were towers in all different sizes. As he grew closer he noted that the stone that made the castle, or palace more likely considering the lack of battlements, was the same white onyx. That had to have been it. The location where Clerin was sealed away. Without hesitance he picked up speed and dived towards the palace. He landed in front of the giant wooden doors, and sat down with a puzzled look. How the hell was he going to get in.
“Open sesame?” He said with a chuckle. The door never budged. “Figures.” He muttered, his eyes narrowed. He tried the only thing he could think of. He rammed in to the door with his entire side. The door didn’t budge and Fionoch stopped and slumped to the ground with a bruised wing. As if someone was going to see him he jumped back up.
“Ok…Fuck this.” Using what little he could remember from Diona, he set the door ablaze with a heavy beating of his wings. He chuckled as the flames rose higher and higher. They burned for almost an hour, and patiently Fionoch sat waiting, a smug grin on his face. When the flames went out, his eyes narrowed again. “BUGGAR ALL TO HELL!” The doors were unscathed.
“WHAT DOES A GRYPHON HAVE TO DO TO CLAIM THE ORB OF CLERIN AND FREE HIM?!” Slowly the doors creaked open after the sudden shout. “…Bastards” He grumbled walking in.
The room was wide open, obviously the hall of the castle. Benches were under seven windows that lined the wall, allowing light in. Four grand gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling on a golden web of chains. Beautiful images were painted on to the wall. Centered in the room was a golden pedestal, centered on a blood red stone triskle. On that pedestal, a swirling black orb was emitting emotions of hate, misery, fear, and sheer malice. Fionoch slowly walked towards it. Light faded from the room, and he stepped back. The sun was setting outside, very quickly. He mustered his courage to fight against his cautiousness. He had to get this orb if Fintan was to return.
The moment his talon gripped the orb there was a flash of darkness. Fionoch could see nothing at all. The darkness was crushing, pulling the air from his lungs, blinding him more and more. When Fionoch thought he could no longer breath, the darkness was suddenly gone. Air returned to his lungs and sight to his eyes. He turned to leave, not caring if he had the orb or not. It was not in his talons, as he ran on all four limbs, but rather about his neck on a golden chain. He came to a skidding halt as he neared the door. A looking glass on the wall showed him. Black, solid black. His golden feathers and fur were no more, his eyes were now a blood red. Not knowing what to think, he spread his wings and flew from the castle, making all haste back to Stromwall.