by Dan Zangari
“I wonder if we could somehow change what it shape-shifts you into,” Cornar narrows his eyes as they round the corridor and come to the stairs leading to the galley.
“I was thinking the same thing too,” Ordreth nods his head as he and his uncle ascend the steps. “That’s your disguise, at least the outward appearance.
“And I heard you found something even more interesting.”
“Yes I did,” Cornar solemnly nods his head and both warriors enter the galley, walking toward the nearest table in front of the stairs. “But nothing that can help us.”
As he finishes speaking, Cornar pulls out the chair in front of him and sits down, somberly leaning against the table.
“What’s wrong uncle?” Ordreth asks as he sits next to Cornar, “I thought you would have been excited.”
Looking at his nephew with a grave expression across his face, Cornar answers, “Not now Ordreth.”
The two familial warriors briefly stare at each other when the first members of the expedition arrive in the galley, awaiting to hear the details concerning their hasty flight from the ruined elven metropolis and the next steps to rescue their necrotic leader. However, as they see Cornar, they each quiet their anticipations.
Several minutes pass when all nineteen members of Iltar’s band are gathered, as well as Captain Kenard, Remnillia and Cadru. Tilthan is the first to break the somber silence, he being the last to enter the galley.
“So we’re on to Arbath!” the thief cheerily states, “How long is it going to take?”
Looking at the masterful thief with an annoyed expression across his face, Cornar speaks up, “Amendal and myself will be traveling alone for now. We used a hawk to carry the conjuration anchor across the forest and we’ll continue to do that until we reach the woodland’s edge near Arbath.”
“Excellent!” Tilthan cries out and leaps for joy.
“Don’t be so thrilled,” Nordal shakes his head. “I doubt you’re going to be free once we get there.”
“Ha!” Tilthan laughs, “I’m just excited I don’t have to see those trees anymore.”
“I’m not sure how long it’s going to take,” Cornar says, “A week or more perhaps. Amendal mentioned that this particular hawk we used can travel around seven hundred grand phineals a day. From where the ruins were located on the map, it was about two and a half thousand grand phineals from Arbath.”
“We can speed it up if we enhance it with magic,” the old conjurer interjects from the far starboard side of the galley.
“Let me guess,” Hagen sighs from the table where Cornar is sitting and squeaks out, “You want me to accompany both of you to hurry it up?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cornar glances to Hagen, “But one of you illusionists will need to come with us once we reach the forest’s edge. We will need to travel under illusionary guise until we reach the coast. We are going to sneak into Arbath the same way we snuck into Klath.”
“Uhh,” Tilthan waves his hand and catches the warrior’s attention, “The mages have Nath right? Or at least we think they do. Wouldn’t they have learned how we snuck into Klath and taken precautions?”
“Tilthan has a point,” Nordal speaks up and folds his arms, tilting his head back in thought.
“Whoa!” Hagen gasps, “You don’t think they’ll shoot down every bird that approaches the city? Do you?”
“That doesn’t seem practical,” Dendra remarks. “The amount of archers you would need to have in order to protect every city in the Kingdom would be tremendous. I doubt the mages would authorize such actions.
“Besides, they would most likely try to use their magics to tame the birds; but you would still need the same amount of mages as you would archers.”
“I’m not worried about sneaking the anchor in,” Cornar says and shakes his head, “That’s why we’re going to the shore. Amendal will release a small flock of gossets to find a ship coming into port in Arbath. The birds will simply sit on the masts and yards until it docks. Once the vessel is moored he’ll launch the birds and find a secluded spot to drop the anchor.
“Tilthan,” Cornar glances to the thief and asks, “Do you know where to find your friend?”
“Yes…” the thief aloofly trails off and each of the men and women in the room look at Tilthan with anticipating expressions upon their faces.
“He’s one of the heads of that would-be thieves’ guild.”
“Do you mean the League of Surveilors,” Nordal asks in a worried tone.
Without a word, Tilthan nods his head.
“What?!” Dendra cries out then worriedly stares at Cornar, “We can’t go there! It would be like delivering ourselves directly into the hands our enemies.”
“I don’t understand,” Demsal speaks up and shakes his head, “What is this League?”
“It’s part of the Kingdom’s military,” Dendra states, “It is one of the three branches of Los’s armed forces, the other two being the Kingdom Guard and the Mages of Alath.
“The League, as many call it, has several divisions: One of which is responsible for tracking down major criminals, both within the Kingdom and without. That division often works with the Agents of the Order, and I’m sure they’re helping the mages look for us.
“With our luck your friend is probably head of that division!”
“This doesn’t sound good at all,” Hex sighs heavily and leans over the table while burring his face in his hands.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Cornar mutters and sighs; his eyes narrow in thought as several of the others voice similar concerns to Tilthan.
“Wait!” the leading thief violently shakes his open palms toward the others. “Wait! I trust Demitru. He’s not going to turn us in.”
“He’d be under an oath as a representative of the Kingdom,” Nordal sternly retorts, “We can’t go to him!”
Laughing, Tilthan retorts, “Demitru? Take an oath? Not a chance.”
“I don’t care how well you know your friend,” Dendra angrily shouts, “We shouldn’t go to him!”
As the members of the expedition argue over contacting Demitru, Cornar thinks to himself, “This is our last option. We have nowhere else to go…”
Amid the strained debate between Tilthan and the others, Cornar slams his fist on the table while crying out, “Silence! We have no other choice!”
“Whoa!” Tilthan blurts out in surprise, “Cornar is actually agreeing with me?!”
“If things go awry we can always use the crystals to escape. Contacting him is a risk we have to take.”
“And who is going with you?” Kalder asks as he looks to Cornar, “I want to be there with you, just in case anything goes wrong.”
“What’s going to go wrong?” Tilthan chuckles then states frankly, “It’s Demitru!”
“I’ll go too,” Nordal remarks sternly.
“Then that makes seven of us,” Cornar answers Kalder’s question.
“Cor,” Nilia speaks up from next to the old conjurer, “Why don’t I take Master Amendal’s place. I’m sure he’ll be tired from the long trek through the forest; besides, I’d like to see Arbath.”
“That’s fine,” Cornar nods his head then continues, “If Demitru can help us then we’ll settle somewhere in Arbath or the surrounding area. Kenard, once we’re ready, we’ll begin sending regular shipments of supplies back to you.”
“If it’s fine by you Cornar,” Captain Kenard speaks up, “I’d like to come ashore every once in awhile. This island is starting to grow dull.”
“Whatever suits you Kenard,” Cornar answers then tiredly rises from his seat, “Amendal and myself will return once we get to the forests edge. I doubt we’ll encounter anymore of those mages, but keep a guard at the bow at all times.
“Amendal, let’s get our things and return to the forest.”
10
Arbath
On a mid-morning two and a half weeks later, five white long-necked birds are sitting atop the forward mast and
yard arms of a vessel which is sailing toward the northern piers of the large port city of Arbath.
Each of the birds, known throughout Kalda as gossets, look around at the sprawling bay which lines the shoreline of the enormous city.
Tightly gripped within one of the gosset’s beaks is Amendal’s conjuration anchor.
In the distance directly in front of the ship is a large stone pier, known as the “First Pier”; it spans nearly six grand phineals from the shoreline of the city. The pier was one of the last remaining pieces of the ancient city from before the Karthar War and is a landmark of great interest to those not native to Arbath.
As the vessel nears the First Pier, each of the gossets take to flight; they swiftly descend to the water’s surface then flap their black tipped wings, soaring into the air directly over the stone pier.
The small flock of gossets pass over the shoreline, flying over beautiful wooden and stone structures within Arbath’s docking district; an area which spreads eighty seven grand phineals across the city’s southern borders and nearly nine grand phineals deep.
Once they pass several rows of buildings and streets paralleling the structures, the gossets soar toward a stone roadway which leads to a set of wide and shallowly rising stone steps. The steps match the First Pier in color and design, and rise forty phineals over three hundred of the aforementioned measurement.
The steps lead directly to a gateway housed within towering walls which surround the enormous docking district. The walls are similar to those found along Keth’s waterways, but rise the height of forty phineals; nearly twice that of those surrounding Los’s western port of entry.
Each of the birds quickly pass over the gateway and above a continuation of the aforementioned steps, which rise to the raised city of Arbath; most of the city, as well as this immediate district beyond the steps, sits on a widely sprawling plateau equal to the height of the walls.
The district beyond the steps and gateway are many old elaborate stone buildings, slightly resembling those found within the Inner City of Alath. Many of the buildings rise three to five stories in height and have elegantly designed decorative columns lining their exterior walls.
The small flock turns to their left and soars westward toward a neighborhood of large estate homes only several hundred phineals from the elaborate buildings; the terrain of the neighborhood gradually slopes upward further to the west and northwest directions and is one of the more affluent areas of the city.
At the head of the flock, the bird carrying the conjuration anchor soars toward the nearest of the large homes, which rises three stories in height and has a steep peaked roof; it is made out of intricately carved wood and stone.
Within a moment, the leading bird settles on the eastern eaves of the estate home while the other four gossets circle around the structure; each of them peering through the various windows as they pass by.
Several minutes pass when the leading gosset flaps its wings and flies around to the southern end of the home; each of the other four gossets are busily tearing away at the base of one of the dormers which lines the southern ceiling.
The gosset clutching the ancient magical device gently lands on the eaves next to the destroyed base of the dormer and waddles forward to a tunnel created by the other four.
Amendal’s conjured bird squeezes through the opening and pushes its way past two rows of supporting beams then comes into the home’s unfinished attic.
Once several phineals inside the attic, the gosset gently sets the conjuration anchor down on the raw wooden floor planks. It waddles backward and stands upright; its head unnaturally cocked at attention.
After a moment, the gosset’s demeanor drastically changes and wildly flies about the room.
Amid the bird’s abrupt change in behavior, golden magical light gathers above the conjuration anchor and within a moment six figures take shape in the light, then emerge from the mystical portal. Cornar, Kalder, Nordal, Hagen, and Tilthan each let go of Nilia then one by one they step away from the young conjurer; each of them are wearing plainclothes and are without their weapons.
“Geez,” Tilthan sighs as he looks about the attic, “That old codger sure picked a strange place to drop us off.”
“Kalder,” Cornar states as he looks to the aforementioned warrior, “Search the attic.”
“Right away Cor.”
“Hagen,” Cornar looks to the short illusionist, “Start casting illusions on us.”
Nodding his head, Hagen utters the words of an incantation, causing light grey magic to gather in the air about himself.
As Hagen casts his spell, Nilia walks toward the dormer and looks out its window to the docking district of Arbath.
“It’s beautiful,” the young maid-turned-conjurer mutters with an awestruck smile.
“Wait until you see the historic district,” Nordal remarks, “In fact, you could probably see it out the other side of this home. I can see the First Pier, so we’re not too far from it.”
“I hope I get to spend some time there,” Nilia responds as she glances to Nordal, “I’ve always wanted to come to Arbath.”
“What woman wouldn’t?” Tilthan frankly interjects, “It’s the vogue capital of the world; every clothing and decorating craze starts here.”
Nilia pouts her lower lip as she looks to Tilthan and asks, “So who is this Demitru?”
“Demitru and I go as far back as I can remember,” Tilthan says, “We were like brothers for the longest time.”
“Really?” Nordal asks and furrows his brow as he looks at Tilthan, “Yet you’ve never talked about him.”
“Well…” Tilthan sighs and shrugs, “He didn’t quite see eye to eye with Cedath.”
“I remember hearing about that,” Cornar says and lightly shakes his head, “Cedath described Demitru as quite the scoundrel.”
“Whose Cedath?” Nilia asks.
“The man that taught me everything I know,” Tilthan responds, “He trained Nath and Demitru as well. When we were eleven years old we attempted to get into the League. We were in the process of obtaining membership when someone within the League got word of the hoaxes we were pulling outside of Klath.
“That ended everything fast. We each received letters from an administrator that our applications for enrollment were denied on the grounds of mischievous behavior.”
“What did you do to warrant that?” Nilia’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Just stabbing holes in pigs’ necks.”
“Vampire hoaxes,” Cornar answers and elaborates further, “And it’s not just stabbing pigs but causing widespread hysteria.”
“It’s not my fault the farmers went crazy,” Tilthan waves his hands.
At that moment, illusionary magic surrounds the masterful thief and shifts his shape. His hair turns from brown to blonde and his eyes flash a vibrant green.
“We were just having fun,” Tilthan chuckles as his features round out and fatten, “Besides, we should have been commended for the work we did. It took the Klath provincial City Watch several months to trace everything back to us.
“After that, word got around that we had been denied membership in the League. When Cedath found out, he took us under his wing, so to speak.”
“I guess this was before you had your cloaks?” Nilia asks.
“Of course!” Tilthan replies, completely changed by Hagen’s magic. “Cedath had those and the lenses a long time ago.”
“His father had them first,” Cornar chimes in. “I believe he found them with Amendal’s father and Iltar’s grandfather, on his mother’s side.”
“Yeah,” Tilthan chuckles, “That old fool was paranoid. I met him once when I was a boy.
“It wasn’t until after his father died that Cedath gave the three of us the cloaks and lenses.”
“Whoa,” Nordal is taken aback, “Do you think Demitru still has them? What I mean is, wouldn’t he be in prison for having them? They are definitely against the Edicts of the Mage-King.”
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“I don’t know,” Tilthan shrugs, “It’s Demitru, so I doubt any officials in the Kingdom knows he has them. He’s sly like that.”
“Are you sure we can trust him?” Nordal cocks his head as Hagen’s magic surrounds him. “The more you speak of him the less I like the idea of finding–”
“Everything is fine,” Kalder states and interrupts Nordal, “There is a stairwell on the north side.”
As Kalder comes to Cornar’s side, Nilia wonders aloud, “I didn’t know our little band had ties that far back.”
“Well, Cedath’s father was originally from Soroth,” Tilthan says, “A descendant from a long line of Sorothians. He was a part of a small guild of thieving experts, which is all but gone now.
“And I actually don’t remember why he went to Klath; but it was before Cedath was born, because Cedath was a citizen of the Kingdom.”
“So why isn’t Demitru part of your troupe?” Nilia innocently asks Tilthan.
“Demitru wanted to do his own adventuring,” the thief replies. “I asked him to join us about eight years ago, but even after Cedath had retired he didn’t want any part in it; that’s when we picked up Sharon.”
Nilia nods her head then the short illusionist’s magic surrounds her, changing her hair from golden blonde to red.
As the magic transforms the young woman, Nordal heavily sighs, “Like I said… And I have a feeling this is going to get messy really fast.”
Several minutes pass when each of the seven companions have been completely altered in appearance.
“Alright, let’s sneak out of this home,” Cornar states, his appearance is similar to the magical guise he had in Alath. “Hagen, make us invisible. I don’t want any prying eyes to see us coming out of this home, although we are under illusions. Tilthan will go ahead of us to unveil himself while we wait outside.”
“Just don’t run off without us,” Nordal chuckles.
