"The Tale of Zyrimir d'Quethe II"
by Chartaine

(this is the first installment of an ongoing story)

A lone figure stands in a clearing near the heart of the Ker’Leor. Shredded plant pieces lay at the feet of this noble warrior, as he gasps for breath. Leaning hard on his blade, he is tired to the very core of his being. Suddenly a rustling is heard in the brush. A lone vine shoots out of the darkness and wraps itself around the fighter’s leg, pulling him from his feet. In a last effort to survive, the warrior swings downward at his own leg, narrowly missing it, but striking true to its mark. The vine releases its hold on his leg only to reattach itself to his blade arm. The proud man, still scrambling on his back, bashes at the cursed vegetation with a clenched fist. The vine releases its hold just long enough for the young man to regain his footing. As the vine extends in a straight line for the warrior’s throat, he prepares his stance to parry. Blocking well with his blade, he swoops in like an adept opponent, beating the plant back toward its rooting. With a mighty swing, the blade lands in the vine’s mid-section, cutting it cleanly in two.

Again the weary fighter stoops to regain his breath. After a quiet moment, he is able to right himself and regain his balance. Gathering what small gems lay around from the skirmish, the paladin makes his way from the clearing. As fatigue sets in, the triumphant warrior heads down the long road toward Therenborough.

"I had forgotten that set of muscles was there," complained Zyrimir to the healer as he rubbed his side and stretched.

"Well, they’re there…in some form or fashion," the empath replied, touching the tender area gently. The healer winced as the pain was transferred to his own side. The healing process had always amazed the young paladin. After every trip he took into the Ker’Leor, he thanked the Thirteen that they had granted this gift, above all others, to mortals.

"Thank you again, kind empath," Zyrimir said through clenched teeth.

"Anytime," the empath said, wincing again as the next wounds were transferred, "but do me a favor? Try to keep the vines from hitting your ribs, those are a tender spot on us empaths.

" Zyrimir chuckled and nodded. "Trust me, I had NO intention of letting it hit me."

"That’s what they all say," the healer grumbled. "All clean, friend."

"Here," the paladin said, flipping a small gem out of his pouch at the empath. The healer dropped a potion as he struggled to keep the gem from falling to the ground.

"Durn you, Zyrimir, that was my last bit of cebi," he complained.

"That gem will cover the price of your roots," the young man yelled as he made his way through the door of the healer’s cottage. Surprise covered the face of the empath as he stared in disbelief at the massive diamond in his hands.

Zyrimir was making his way across the Quadrangle near the gates of the Theren Keep when he heard a shriek from behind him. Turning quickly he noticed a small dark figure running and a young woman who was near tears. Scattered about the ground was the basket of fresh apples she was carrying to market.

Nearly sprinting across the crowded thoroughfare, Zyrimir chased after the figure. Keeping one eye on the heavily cloaked stranger and one on the crowd in front of him, the young paladin struggled to keep up. The assailant was quick and nimble, making it near impossible for the strong paladin in full battle gear to match his pace. The figure quickly ducked around the corner of an alley, disappearing into a darkened doorway. Zyrimir rounded the corner a few moments later only to find the alley empty.

"Whadda ya want, moron?" asked a voice from behind the young man.

"I was chasing a thief this direc…" Zyrimir stated as he turned to find his nose near buried in a burly Gor’Tog’s chest.

"You mean Juskler over there," the ‘Tog said, pointing at the small Halfling in the doorway.

"Yes, that would be the one," Zyrimir gulped.

"Well, ya see, Juskler was workin’ fer me. So, if’n ya was chasin’ ‘im, ya hav’ ta go thru me and me boys," the large man grumbled.

"I was HOPING I would not have to, but…" Zyrimir quickly drew his blade and took a quick swing at the first ‘Tog. The two behind him quickly surrounded the young paladin, who began to spin and parry the barrage of attacks. Juskler loaded his sling and sent several stones flying in Zyrimir’s direction. Zyrimir was caught in the thigh by a small rock as a club came down around the area of his shoulder. The warrior winced as he felt the slight prick of a dagger catch his shield arm. He dropped to one knee, attempting to cut the base out from under the mighty ‘Tog, when he noticed that the rocks had stopped sailing about his head. He glanced up only to see that the Halfling was firing at twice the rate, having noticed he could not hit the paladin. Bolstered by this bit of luck, Zyrimir leaped quickly to his feet and over the rapier wielded by the Human on his flank.

Zyrimir turned to return the Human's attack, but found him engaged with a newcomer to the fray. The paladin did not have time to ask questions as the club caught him smartly on the back piece of his field plate. He winced but spun and faced the ‘Tog again. Swinging smartly and dodging the dagger of the Skra’Mur still behind him, Zyrimir finally finished off the mighty ‘Tog. Turning he found that the ‘Mur was running. As Zyrimir was about to chase after the figure, he remember the small Halfling who was still sending a barrage of rocks to try and protect himself. The young man walked slowly toward the terrified Halfling.

Grabbing Juskler by the back of his cloak, he assured the dwarf of a man that he would not harm him.

"What did you take from that young lady?" Zyrimir asked.

"I didn’t take nothin’!" screamed the halfling, obviously lying.

"Come on, Juskler, what do you take me for? The common tenant farmer?" Zyrimir said, hoisting the halfling higher.

"Ok, ok, no hurt Juskler. I took what the big one want. He has…er…had it on," Juskler stammered. As Zyrimir turned, he was stunned by a great clap of thunder. It was about the time he hit the pavement that he realized his savior was making sure the other assailant was alive for questioning.

The next afternoon Zyrimir awoke with a large headache. Quickly sitting up in the bed, he scanned his surrounding. He was in his breeches, shirt and boots. Someone had removed his plate and laid it out on the floor nearby. He was obviously in the inn, but what had happened? The last thing he could remember was the halfling pointing to the dead body…. ‘Oh! The body,’ he thought.

He rose quickly but soon became dizzy. His head swam with the effects of whatever had happened. He slumped back onto the bed and sat trying to focus his vision on the room. The door swung open and a young human walked through. The stranger was wearing a royal blue greatcloak with a braided gold fourragere draped over the left shoulder. Through the gap in the cloak, Zyrimir noticed the studded leather hunters the man wore. Zyrimir rose to meet the stranger. Taking a step forward, he faltered. The stranger quickly helped him right himself.

"Who….who are you?" Zyrimir asked.

"Yas donae recognize me, m’friend? We grew up together just a short ways down the road, tis me Chartaine Seorgeon, now a near famous Mage," the young stranger said, surprised.

"Is it really you? I could not tell what with the beard and all," Zyrimir replied, equally as shocked.

"Shard has some cold weather, the beard was necessary," Chartaine explained.

"Shard? What possessed you to venture that direction?" Zyrimir asked.

"Tis a long story, but nae as long as yer tale. Why in the name of all 'tis good were you fighting not just one, but four ugly gentlemen that reeked of cheap ale?" Chartaine asked, all but forcing the paladin back into the bed.

"Was not my choice, I was chasing the small one….OH! Where is he?" Zyrimir yelled as he jumped up again, this time hitting the floor when his legs would not hold him up.

"Easy dere, big fella. He and the other one are tied up in the otha’ room, along wit’ everythin’ off that dead body, ya really did a number on ‘im," Chartaine said, feigning impression. "But for now, rest." The mage pushed the anxious paladin back into the bed and covered him. "I will find an empath, but the rest will do you good."