Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Chronicles of Obelus: Journey to the North (Full)

Ecru hues were stern now as they carefully surveyed the city. The man in the white robe spoke of forbidden evils that his family had not dealt with in many years. He finally recognized the staff he wielded. It was not a staff for a crippled, but the way he twisted it and the way he stood upright, he knew the man was no doubt some kind of wizard.

Dalitso was a kind man and gave everyone a fair chance to present their purpose. He could feel Cia sneaking to see behind him. He did not wish to smoother her any longer. He stepped beside the young woman, so she could see the wizard in all of his glory. At this point, he held nothing from her. She was now part of the Al’Shadye. He would explain more to her about who they really were, when they had time, but now a simple Spice Caravan would be proper.

“Vampires? Only a foolish one would come where the sun is hot.” He grinned. “In the north, there is mention of a clan that holds a sector in the Red Forest. They are protected from the sun there. I only encountered one and it was years ago in my youth. Where the undead lie, is a place of pain and suffering.”

Vikne shook his head. "A foolish or incredibly powerful one. There are some, daywalkers who are immune to the sun. Even then, some lesser beasts can walk in the light of day and still conceal their nature, though their powers would be significantly reduced." Explained the shaman. "Ah but I suppose you don't want to hear the words of some crazed shaman. So tell me of this clan. Have you heard the terms Ironclaw, Stonefang or Iceblood?"

Vikne turned to face the girl who had now revealed herself. He could tell she was distrusting, and thus quickly devised a small trick to perform. "Say, child, do you like flowers?" Wuth this question he opened his free hand, summoning a small ball of ice. The ice seemed to sculpt itself into a depiction of a rose. Vikne then cause it to levitate, pushing it ever so slightly down towards her.

Alicia was officially confused.

“Vampires?” She thought as she turned her head to Dalitso as he talked to the shaman.

She frowned, trying to make sense of it all. She had only heard rants and rumors from the rich noblemen of the North. But she didn’t know much about the terms Vikne threw around.

Her confusion quickly led to anger, she was used to being either scared, confused or angry. Mostly angry though, it helped in times of battle to keep fighting.

She wasn’t really emotionally stable, but at least she was alive.

Soon though, the shaman won her over slightly. She had never seen magic performed in front of her before. She let her mouth fall open in awe, and her eyes sparkle. Quickly, she was swayed.

She felt herself for once in her life feel slight joy at the small performance. It was probably nothing to the shaman, she thought, but to her, seeing that was everything.

“That’s very pretty, sir..” Alicia murmured as she quickly plucked it from the air in her excitement. “...My name is Alicia, you may call me Cia for short.” The girl said simply. He didn’t seem so bad now in her eyes.

Alicia? His brow arched. She had never mentioned her full name before. He blushed, embarrassingly. Disappointed that she had kept that detail from him. He chuckled it off and made nothing of it. Dalitso was just glad the girl was opening up more. When he found her in the dunes she was just a stray cat with an empty stomach, now she was a young lioness, eager to learn how life should have been before half of her life was robbed from her. Poor girl, she was unable to enjoy her youth. He did not want to take the last few years from her. She needed a family and he wanted to be that for her.

While Alicia enjoyed the shamans spectacular display, Dalitso watched Alicia instead; the blue from the iced rose reflected from his ecru hues that adored the girl so fatherly. More kids came around. Beggars, vagabonds all of the hoods in Afgaria now lingered around the caravan to watch the great shaman perform. Dalitso did not like all of this attention. He was here for business and one never knew what spies lingered in the shadows. The whisperers had their own effective magic.

“That is quite impressive, Vikne. Unfortunately for you, we are not here for vampires. You being knowledgeable of their sort should understand the threat they bring to our countries.” he smiled.

A scream was heard in the distance that shook the tengu mounts who were resting under the shade. Feathers went everywhere and Dalitso had to hold the reins tight to steady them still. Daddy had to calm them down. The kids and citizens ran off from the riders dust storm.

That was when the band of riders rode into town at least twelve dervish men, cloaked in desert armor with scythe blades and longbows raised. When they surrounded the caravan that was when the Demon Tiger Chi materialized before them and growled fiercely. The dervishmen were spooked by the Tiger. Her demon blade roots glowed a deadly black (for chaos) while she readied herself to defend her master, the girl and the shaman.

“Easy now. We don’t want any trouble with you good people. We’s just lookin’ for a centaur girl. A runaway wit a lushous bounty on her head.” The Dervish leader said.

Dalitso finally calmed down his tengu and stepped forward.

“You dervish have no honour. Riding into this fine city, scaring kids away all for a bounty. Has life been that hard for you?” Dalitso said.

The dervish chuckled.

“Don’t you judge us. We’s know how you folks make yer coin. Bet your girls is in town now prostituting as we’s speak.” The dervish leader cackled.

Dalitso found offense to that comment and nodded to Vikne to prepare himself. He pulled his demon blade from the sheathe and the roots on it glowed blue (for bravery). Returning from the city stores; Spear-Lady Lozita, Zosa, Nahita, Pela, and Sanze seen the crowd and dropped their bags to surround the riders. They all unsheathed their demon blades at once. Zosa’s blade burned orange (for battlelust), Nahita’s blade burned purple (for vengeance), Pela’s blade burned green (for wisdom), Sanze’s blade burned white (for purity) and lastly, Lozita who was skilled with a spear and known for such had her demon blade as well, hers burned red (for hate). Alicia would see this and connect with her as she was the Alpha female for a reason.

“There are two ways this can go. I will pay you for the bounty and you being a good mercenary will forget you came for the Centaur, or you can turn around and go back to where you came coinless.” Dalitso said.

Yes, she was in the city. Due to her size, it was incredibly hard to blend in, and even harder to barter safe passage. Her only solace was the slums, as the small and meek knew well of her trials and understood, and it was there she had found a temporary home. In exchange for food and shelter, the massive Lolu’re had done physical labor in exchange. And that did not bother the centauress in the least.

This had gone on for some weeks. Life was incredibly dull in the sandy, if not almost grey shadowed slum she had taken to living in. She would never survive crossing the desert, not without a guide, and a ton of water. And those two things she had no ability to pay for, and so, her road had met its end.

The Dervish riders were not the first to have come looking for her, as the bounty placed upon her was known far and wide. It wasn’t that she was prized, or special. It was the very fact she had escaped from the Queen’s own stock of slaves, one who had shown rebellion before she was even a teen. One that should have been watched. And then she was gone. Two people nearly died hiding her, but each time they had prevailed. And each time someone shed blood in her wake, a cut was added to her growing number of self-made scars.

The screaming had started in a different part of the city, far off from where the slum she resided in was. Screams weren’t...unnatural here. But they often signified someone was looking for her scarred hide.

Enough was enough. Taking the small hands of group she had come to settle with, she knew she had to end it, before others were killed in her stead. She picked up her only belonging, aside from the tunic she wore over her humanoid torso, a handmade bow made of scrap wood she had found within the slums. A slew of arrows, made of the same wood and tipped with pieces of pottery or glass, a few were hand carved stone. But all were backed with feathers from unknown birds that resided here.

Today she would stop hiding. Today she would fight back.

All she had to do was follow the distant screams, and ignore the ones she caused as her massive body galloped through the streets. Dust clung to her face and her hair, forced into her lungs that heaved as she pushed herself. Her particular equine body wasn’t much meant for running as it was for brute strength, but it was at the very least built like a boulder.

Her hooves slammed against the stone path as she ran, the beats sounding loud like a thunderous drum against the buildings. It was then she came up behind them, the cowards with their swords on horseback. She growled, scowling with her teeth bared in an ugly expression on a rather attractive face. How dare these monsters harass a caravan that had absolutely nothing to do with her

”I am here, and I am no ones slave!” She shouted, spittle flying from her lips as she drew her bow and an arrow from a patchwork quiver. She pulled back the intestine cord of her bow, holding the arrow to her cheek. ”Come at me!”

The arrow was released, and despite its primitive nature, the weapon found it’s target in the back of one of her would be captors. The massive centaur reared, flashing mighty hooves and flaming feathers. It was a dare. She would never be captured again alive.

The demon cat manifested itself, making all cleaer. This disturbance Vikne felt. Demons were oft misunderstood or untrusted, no exception here. The local spirits were further frightened at her arrival, meaning Vikne could not invokr their assistance.

He turned back to the riders. "Uncouth and brutish. These are not inheritly bad qualities, for my people were so. Greed is your driving force, no? Tis a weak one. Greed is futile, and unfulfilled will lead to anger, and anger heads a dark path. I know-" Vikne was cut short as the thunder of hooves heralded a swift arrow, it flew true and struck well. The shaman had been left little choice. Conflict was ensured now.

This new belligerent had no thought of a peaceable resolution. Vikne could not judge however, when images of his own past flashed before himself. The caravan was outnumbered, but thier skill Vikne did not know. Suddenly he cried out. "Sanumeris! Heed my call, come forth!"

With his word and a wave of his staff a spectral warrior appeared, a head taller than Vikne, though they looked alike. He was built like a house, wielding a greataxe, he wore nought but a little more than a loincloth.

When she first saw the Dervish, she already disliked them from how rude they appeared to be. They were already causing chaos from their presence alone. Dislike soon turned into immediate hate though when she heard they were hunters.

She already had her hand gripping her scimitar. She was shaking in rage at the thought of another runaway being captured. The Dervish most likely understood how bad it was for slaves, they just didn't care. If it wasn't for Dalitso and the Caravan finding her, would another group of hunters have captured her?

She didn't want Dalitso to pay a single coin to the Dervish. It would only encourage their profession.

She took great joy at seeing an arrow impale a man in the back. She quickly held her blade in front of her, her eyes took in the red. She made her stance to look sloppy, pretending to be a novice.

Some would say her way of fighting was dishonorable, due to how she would resort to trickery when needed. But honesty, Alicia stopped caring a long time ago.

There is no honor in spilled blood. There are only the living and dead in battle.

The arrow came swift like light. The dervish stilled, his eyes dilated and he coughed scarlet, to fall from his horses back. That was when everyone seen the Mighty Centaur. Dalitso smiled at her skill with range. He did not think a centaur would actually be here. Afgaria was not all slums, it was the port city of the Aceba Desert Kingdom. It was a city of wealthy traders and hard working merchants, thus it had its secrets and cutthroat savages. Albeit, Zephia was the capital city of Aceba, home of the Afgarian Nobles. The King of Light was said to give gifts of gold and gems after each feast. Dalitso had only visited the capital twice. And he had befriended King Wamukota. It was where he learned that his cousin Ro’Shan and the farmers were taken by the northern slavers. This memory angered him and reminded him that all supporters of slavery must be silenced.

The Dervish all perked up when the Centaur rushed out of the city, yelling with her primitive bow. Some laughed mocking her. One of them who mocked was the same one who caught the arrow in his rear; quickly the laughter turned to silence. Whilst when the shaman conjured his champion, that same silence turned to fear. The dervish were at equal number now and did not come here to die. They tried to flee but the gypsies surrounded them, skillfully cutting each horse leg; causing all of the dervish to wildly dismount. Contact from the demon blades begin to burn the horses alive from the legs up with Hell Fire.

“Well, I tried to offer peace. But the Centauress you sought to subdue has now turned the tides against you. Your horses are dead and you can no longer go home.” Dalitso said.

“Enough talk!” Chi said to leap off the caravan and bring her blade down into the neck of one dervish. The man lost his head and his body purified into blazing fire. “Now you must all die!” She engaged the first Dervish seen, fencing him, eventually taking his head as well.

The Dervish leader called for the nine remaining to defend at will. Dalitso moved in to see the leader, circulating his scimitar welcoming him his last parlay...

“Ye are all filthy demons! The lot of you’s!” He unsheathed his scythe spear preparing to parlay with Dalitso. “You are no trader! Merchants my arse! I will enjoy killing you. My men will destroy your demon and raid your precious women. I will take pleasure on the young one personally.” The Dervish leader snickered, eying Alicia with his slimey tounge.

Dalitso frowned at the man’s pride and would kill him a thousand times over before he ever let that happen...

When the others had joined the fight, hooves slammed against the ground. Another arrow was notched, but at this distance, it was too dangerous to actually fire off a shot without risking the others. So instead, she charged forward.

The horses were felled, an unnecessary loss, but what was done was done. She couldn’t use her bow but she herself have four massive legs of a Shire horse. One kick from those legs would end the life of anyone who didn’t get out of the way. And she wasn’t going to let any of those Dervish bounty hunters get away. And now she practically had a mini army helping her. What more could she ask for?

As she neared, she noticed the dark-skinned man facing off against the one who was apparently the leader, and what he said caused her to snarl. Eyes had briefly flicked towards the smallest member of their band of fighters, and she knew then and there that she would absolutely not let that happen on her account. Though a sword nicked her side, a powerful blow from her hindquarters sent the offender flying a good dozen feet. The sound of bones cracking could be heard on impact, from both hooves and street.

“You’re a fool to think you’d win.” She snarled at the leader, though her attention was snatched by another who had come up to her side. With a grace that seemed impossible for her immense stature, the centauress sidestepped, dreaded tail snapping against her rump. The bow had been lifted with another arrow, and before the sword could swipe a gash into her copper hide, the arrow flew into the skull of the Dervish attacker. He slumped, and she unceremoniously kicked him away with a single hoof.

Scars would be a gift on this day, if they won, of course.

Vikne examined every uncoordinated move of the Dervish, they were in disarray and panic. The comment the leader had made cause a great anger in his heart. Disregarding his own safety, he whirled around, slapping his staff upon the sand. A wall of jagged ice erupted outward from the girl's feet, aimed high enough and sharp enough to pierce the stomach of any who faced it.

As Vikne was prepping a defense, Sanumeris charged forth at an incredible speed, cleaving two men in half with little effort. Vikne spun back to face the party of Dervish. He swiftly loosed a bolt of golden fire into one of his foe's chest, searing a hole through him.

His attention jerked back to the caravan, and began to cast incantations of protection upon them. They were not quite strong enough to replace armor, for distance and time prevented that, but perhaps it could spare them some minor pain.

It took everything inside of Alicia to keep her expression terrified instead of enraged.

She wanted nothing more than to lunge for the leader and impale him after hearing that. He was of them, the men that were practically demons in her eyes. But thinking they were demons would be an insult to Chi.

She would rather die by her own hand than suffer again at another’s.

Her scimitar, if possible, burned even redder than before. She watched Vikne’s wall impale one man who tried to swing at her. She grinned wide, loving the shaman’s magic more.

She saw one man immediately come from behind. And quickly, she threw her cloak in the man’s face. She dodged his blind swing, twirled and stabbed the man in the back. She twisted her sword to make the man suffer more pain before he died.

Kicking the man’s limp body away to free her blade, she turned to observe the rest of the battle.

Dalitso and the Dervish leader began fighting, Alicia couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Dalitso has to waste his time squaring off with a goblin in human guise.

Quickly pulling her dagger from her boot, she used her strength to throw it at a Dervish who got to close to their battle for her liking. She got closer and stepped on him to finish him off, and when the man griped at her scimitar her heart shook. On his left finger was a ring, she noticed. A million thoughts race through her head but seeing another come close to her, she finished him off.

Alicia felt herself feel slight guilt at the thought of having taken away the breadwinner in a family somewhere. But her heart turned to stone when she thought of the slaves returned, never to see their own family again.
Her thoughts were cut short when she saw the centaur shout something at the Dervish leader.

So she continued on, slashing the throat of another and willing herself to continue fighting on pure rage. Though, she would always deny if anyone claimed they saw her give the rest of the men she battled a quicker death.

A strange pale skinned young man wandered the streets of Afgaria. People avoided him, naturally: he looked sinister, with pale skin, dark eyes, and black clothes. However, the young man considered himself anything but sinister... Well, mostly. After all, who talked to the shadows like Varen? Not many people.

Speaking of shadows, there was a great anxiety in every shadow and haunt that manifested in Afgaria. Understandable- the desert sun was scorching hit. If Varen didn't have his umbral protection, he'd have been sunburnt to a crisp. Yet, he was veering off topic. He had come down here to allow a female Cirith'akl to see her mother one last time, and now that the job was finished, he needed to find a way back north. To gather that information, he'd ask the shadows for help.

However, that was no easy task for beings that couldn't exsist in sunlight. Despite that, he got glimmers of information: a caravan, heading north. A fight. Horsemen. Centaur. Fragments of information, but enough to the scene of action. He stopped, analyzing the fight, whilst drawing his mercury vial: he wanted to see both sides' goals, though he was biased towards the caravan, admittedly. Still, he didn't want to kill the wrong people unnecessarily.

However, it seemed clear that the caravan was going to win, hands down. Varen watched as the caravan practically slaughtered the band of warriors. It was hard to take note of one single battle.

There was the apparent leaders fighting, a cat-demon- for he could sense it was a demon- tearing down foes, a man in a staff using Shamanic magic to cut down the enemy, a girl some years younger than him showing pronficiency with the blade, A centauress who was quite literally kicking their buttocks, and many women with blades that glowed near dead horses.

Varen raised an eyebrow at this level of skill from the caravan. He had intended to help, but there was no need, apparently. He COULD immobilize the Warriors' leader, but Varen doubted the Caravan's leader would appreciate his help.

The fray had ended quicker than it began. Screams of the dervish cried in the violent ice blast. Vikne’s magic was raw and unpredictable, such had blew Dalitso and the Dervish leader through the flames of burning horses. Alicia would notice a unique feature in her demon scimitar; each man she had slain, perished into a blaze of ash and Hell Fire. The gypsies began to cleanse each fallen dervishman, penetrating them with their blades and turning them into forgotten memories, only for the desert wind to toss their ashes into the warm Acabe ocean.

“May the fallen have no corpses to remember. The sands shall never hear of them again.” Chi said joining in the cleanse.

A few dervish lay wounded, with arrows in them from the fine archery of the centauress. They both cried and pleaded for mercy, thus the Demon Tiger showed them none. She stuck one in the throat to silence him, swirling her demon blade into the torso of the other; both men perished into ash and Hell Fire.

The protective barrier was near the caravan, but Dalitso and the Dervish who led his fallen band were cast a good ways from it. An ice shard was embedded into Dalitso’s ribcage and the Dervish had two in his backside. Both men coughed blood.

“You truly are a self righteous fool. You judge me. And yet here you are, ready to die by a crazed wizard who can not even control his own abilities.” The Dervish laughed to cough crimson. “No, I will end you first and die knowing that it was I who killed you.”

He yelled and rushed in to take Dalitso’s head. The assassin closed his eyes and let the man come. As he felt his footsteps come closer, he avoided the scythe blade only to bring his scimitar vertical, which skillfully took the dervish’s arm. The leader screamed and his eyes widened. Dalitso slowly opened his, to watch the man’s body deteriorate into fiery flakes.

Dalitso fell to his knees to catch his wind. He had noticed the new traveler arrive. The man was as pale as a ghost with black clothing, very strange to see something so pure in the desert.

“If you are a good citizen, help me up. I can feel my blood getting cold.” Dalitso said.

Varen raised an eyebrow. How could he NOT help the man? He squatted down low, grabbed the man's shoulder on his unwound side, and helped him up. It was somewhat hard, but not impossible; the man was lighter than Varen thought.

As he helped the man up, he examined the wound. It would have a hard time getting infected, being so cold as it was. However, hypothermia was a disti- wait, they were in a desert. The worst he would get was frostbite in the immediate area around the wound. He just couldn't take the shard out: the man could die from blood loss if he did.

"Anyone have a piece of cloth or a bandage?" He asked everyone around. He then turned his head around to face the shaman. "You do realize that when you create a barrier, it affects everyone that activates it, right? And this man," gesturing to Dalisto, "was near the girl when you cast that barrier spell."

This was really living, seeing these horrid men be cast down once after another, not even given a chance to spill their blood because of the mystical properties of the blades these people wielded. She watched the ash of their bodies be carried in the hot wind, there really would be no remembering them. None of the man's bodies are here to see, and eventually, people would forget what had happened. She knew she certainly would.

Her attention was snagged when the final Dervish had been cut down; the leader. She made her approach slow, knowing full well the dishonor it would be for her to assist when she truly didn’t need to. This man was capable, more than any. But something odd had occurred, though that truly did not hold much weight as to what really had happened. Shards flew from around the young girl's legs, likely cast by the shaman man, and those same spines knocked both ally and foe, even going so far as to injure them both.

He pace had picked up into a trot, and she nearly broke into a gallop when it seemed the leader of the Caravan was going to die. Alas, he did not. The Dervish leader let out a pitiful scream, one she sneered at, before she noticed yet someone else new. Her eyes went to Varen, whom Dalisto asked for aid. But the man appeared to look at the injury more than do much about it.

“Magic isn’t always perfect.” She spoke, her voice oddly soft for how harsh it had been moments before. “At least, magic cast in the middle of the fray. I had seen a gladiatorial mage once who blasted his own hands off trying to fend off his enemy…” She quickly lay down, as kneeling would still put her heads over the sitting Dalisto. Her eyes traveled around the wound, the shard of ice, the purpling that was occurring right around the shard.

“I will need to work this from the inside out, so that I may push the shard out from within without further injury.” She gently placed her hand around the shard with her palm down against the man's cinnamon skin, so the shard stuck from the space between her thumb and her pointer finger.

“Spirits of the Earth, lend me your aid.”

Though there wasn’t much plat life, if at all, she could feel the energies of every little living creature nearby. With so many lives, it would be easy to heal this smaller wound. Anything larger might have been far more difficult in such a barren land.

He would start to feel a tingling within, maybe even a tickling if he was more sensitive, as muscle and cells from in front of the point of the shard within his chest. Since the healing magic was centered on every single injured cell, the healing of the tissue began to slowly push the shard from within, as she had said. This way, he would not bleed out, and the frostbitten flesh would have time to heal without the shard being forcibly removed.

“I owe you my life...all of you…” She kept her gaze on her work, her voice genuine. “My name is Lolu’re, I am in your debts.”

When Alicia heard the Dervish leader's scream, she hd expected to see Dalitso standing over him, proud and strong. She didn't expect that when she turned, she would be greeted by the sight of Dalitso injured.

"Dalitso!" Alicia immediately rushed over to his side, cursing herself for giving the rest of her opponents easy deaths. Call it hero worship, but Alicia really did look up to Dalitso ever since he found her in that desert. He could've left her but he chose to help her, even giving her a place in the Demon Caravan. Her life would forever be indebted to him. Too see Dalitso injured and being too useless to do much about it except watch, made her furious beyond belief.

Sometimes she wished she had the magic to resurrect people, this time she wanted the power so she could cut down the Dervish once more.

She watched Lolu're work, and then turned her gaze to Varen, "Thank you, both of you." She murmured softly. She didn't feel uncomfortable around them knowing they were helping Dalitso. She brought her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them as she watched Lolu're work. It was then she realized she need more knowledge, more power. She needed more if she wanted to be useful.

Suddenly a non-human appeared. “You need to be careful. Heed my words if you wish to survive. I was sent here to guide you and keep you safe as my master ordered me.” The being seemed serious.

Everything seemed cloudy to Dalitso due to the loss of blood. Chi was terrified, upset, frustrated and angry. So many emotions overwhelmed the Tiger, seeing her master badly wounded. She paced back and forth while the pale skinned man held him steady, leading him back to their Caravan. She would have slaughtered the Shaman without words had she a cruel master. The gypsies all sheathed their Demon Blades and joined in a circle around Dalitso while the Centauress did her fine work.

Soon, Dalitso realized where he was again as he regained his consciousness. Alicia cried out to him and this woke him. He smiled at his young apprentice insuring her, with a weak voice, that everything would surely be okay. He held out his hand for her to take. And if Alicia took it, he would embrace her in a half hug, gently, not to hurt himself and hold her on the side of his good rib. If she wanted to cry then he would be that shoulder for her.

Thus his ecru hues noticed the beautiful Centauress who frightened everyone when she arrived nearly foaming at her mouth in rage. Now she was calm with a sweet voice, her hands were soft and tender while she mended the shard in his rib. She said her name was Lolu’re. He smiled at her gracefully.

“You are very good with a bow. I would call you a marksman but I seek not to offend you.” He complimented her with a grin. “Dalitso...and there is no debt needed. We are all alive and I am just glad that they did not take you.” He said to her.

He looked around and wondered where the shaman had gone? Surely he was not ashamed of almost killing him, Dalitso chuckled at his thoughts. But he would hold no ill grudge against him. He would go into battle with Vikne by his side any day, just in a respectful distance.

Then another stranger arrived...

Chi pulled her ebony blade when he had seen her, but Dalitso shook his head and waved for the Tiger Demon to let her pass. Chi vanished, wickedly. The woman tried to warn him of his survival. He was flattered, but was not in a position to move yet; not until the shard melted and his rib was sealed. He was not leaving Lolu’re’s side. For some reason he trusted the Centauress and felt connected to her. He refocused his eyes on the woman who came to his Caravan with the new message.

“Aye? I am sure I will manage. But do tell me about your master and yourself? I need to be able to trust those who seek to guide me.”

Being “the way you seek to the north is over taken by a army outpost. Though skilled warriors they are not ready for that kind of fight. I suggest you go therough the cave of truth. It will still be hard. But you at least have a chance to survive. I have sent somebody to guide you once you get there. Take this map it will help. The pills will increase your healing and bring somebody near death into a coma state so they can recover completely.” She held out a map and bottle.