Dedicated to Lord A., and all the old timers here who loved him so.
When last we left our heroes, things were looking dark...
The cell was still cold, hard, wet and dark, but at least he was loose now...the squirrel had finally managed to chew throught he bonds, and now at least Amras could rub some feeling back into his limbs.
And then...
Amras heard the voice again...singing the old song...but it couldn't be...she was long gone...
"Underneath the silk of a shroomie bud tree
Stood a pixie and a half-elf and and little faerie
But the Pixie he got drunk, and smelled just like a skunk
And the half-elf and the faerie they rowed right out to sea"
The voice was sweet and soft...just like the sister that Amras had not seen in an eternity.
It couldn't be...
Beautiful Amras ! What a lovely dedication.
Thankyou for getting the story forum back up. :)
*Decades ago, before the first, lost chapters of this story were written*
It was dark when the raiders came...they always came at night, the better to hide their sneaking and cowardice...Lord Elfwine the Elder had long defied Balor, the better to serve as an example to his children, brilliant daughter Lolly and strong son Amras...
It was just before dawn when the torch light on the stone wallls woke Amras...he heard the shouts and cries...many men on horses, the clanging of swords, and later, the crackling of flames...the young half-elf drew his falchion as he sprang through his door, into the crowd of friend and foe who fought in the keep hallways...
"Where is Lolly?" thought Amras, his short falchion a blur before him' He and his sister were both warriors, she by far the better with the sword. Not seeing the large orcish swordman behind him, Amras fell as the hilt of its rough-rended sword connected with the back of his head.
Later in the afternoon, Amras came to, sore and swollen, in his room, healers around him.
Lolly was gone, taken by Balor's henchers...
Amras still could not see from his left eye...
Cold it was, and the voice was coming clearer when he heard the singing...he began to take stock of things...just a small pot, a wooden spoon with which he ate the thin gruel they brought...dressed in a leather loin cloth only, doing little to keep the cold dampness from him..."oh, for a good, warm length of wool with which to kilt m'self,"he thought through the fog.
It was time to take control again...Amras started to stretch, the slow, dance-like exercises he had oft done with Radha...and the slow, methodical pussing against the floor, feeling the strength slowly return to his arms and legs...pacing back and forth, like the wolf in his cage...or a squirrel, Amras smiled...they had left him his memories...
The guards were coming less and less often, now, as if they had forgotten about him...
"I'd better act soon."
The fae were set...Trillium had set her Flying Faerie Force about the Queen's positions as a guard force...there was no way Balor's magic could penetrate their ring, even if it had been reacting squirrely at the lights coming from the fortress...she sighed at the word "squirrely"...were was Am? It had been so long...
Amras was getting stronger, though he still could not see out of his left eye...the small forest creatures he tried to care for were now caring for him, bringing him nuts, berries, water-soaked mosses...the guards had not been down t his hallway in days, as if they were now starving him.
Amras recognized the squirrel at the window bars, a slight little fellow named "Tail Flag"...chittering in both squirrel and common, Amras gave specific instructions...after Tail Flagged made a comment about Amras' "strange accent" (squirrells can be kinda bookish, sometimes), he seemed to get the idea, and sprang into the trees beyond the bars...
"Now, things may just start getting interesting," The Squirrel Lord thought to himself...
Trillium was buzzing about the camp late that night. It was cool, and she was peeking over a hillock, trying to see what was going on at the fortress...the strange lights beaming skyward were disorienting,and the noise they made was horrible...and, the lights seemed to play havoc with her fae senses...so, she was not sure she was seeing straight when the wee brown squirrel jumped to the limb before her, chirping and chittering madly...
"He wants you to lead me to him? He who??"
The squirrel was speaking must faster than his tiny brain was thinking.
"DRUMMER??? Lead the way..."
Tail Flag started for the far side of the fortress, Trullium a silver-sparkly blur right behind.
Their warp-speed trip through the forest seemed to take forever. Trillium's mind was racing... "How did he get inside the dungeon??? And how am I going to get him out??" She knew they would have to be quick, before Balor detected her presence. But Drummer may not be in any condition to be moved...
Soon Trillium and Tail Flag were at a desolate black castle. The squirrel led her to a small barred window and she peaked inside to find a dirt-encrusted, bruised lump that may have passed as an elf not too long ago. "Drummer!!" Trillium quietly creeped inside and slowly started inspecting his injuries. Then she carefully set his head in her lap and quietly hummed as she dug through her bottomless pouch. Finally, she found what she was looking for, a special potion only to be used in absolute emergencies. "I hope this works, my dear friend..." she whispered, before pouring the potion into Amras' mouth.
...swirling and...and flitting?? Now THAT was no sound for a warrior hear...the mists behind his eyes shifted, up, down, around...and then, coolness and warmth, a coolness on his tongue, followed by a warmth in his chest...still, it was dark...
"Underneath the silk of a shroomybud tree
Hid a half-elf and a faerie and a nasty pixie"
The words woke him...he looked up, into the eyes of the grinning, singing fae who was holding his head in her lap and stroking his forehead...
"I have been here before," he thought to himself.
"Hello, Trill," he whispered to the fae.
The squirrel beside them nudged Trill's flask, as if to encourage her to give Amras another drink...
"Trill...how long?" Amras could barely speak...it came out as more of a dry croak than his usual deep baritone.
"Months and months, Drummer," Trillium answered, bathing his brow with a bit of sparkly silk.
"Months?" thought Amras, "Only months?" It felt like years...Amras still could see from only one eye...
"The army is out there, Amras, waiting to attack. Queen Bonnie, Deadbishop and Tybalt and their pirates, Lady Nicollette and her Harpers, Calith and the archers, Captain Morgan, and you'll never guess, NEVER, but Radha is there, on her pony, and..."
Amras had to smile, despite his discomfort. It was good to be back with his old friend.
And it sounded like things were about to get fun again..."'bout darned time" he thought.
"OK, Trill, OK...now, lets see about getting out of here, into better accomodations..."
"Getting out of here, Drummer? Why, that'll be easy..."
Retrieving a tiny, silver wand from a pouch on her belt, Trillium flicked it in the direction of the locked cell door, as if expecting it to open.
Nothing happened.
She flicked it again. Still nothing.
"Looks like Balor is intruding on certain ethereal streams again, lass. My senses seemed blocked a bit, the acorn charm hasn't worked since I got in here, and every time he lights up that confounded crystal machine, my head feels like its going to explode. You still seem to be able to hover, though..." Amras was stretching in the corner, standing more steadily. "We'll have to find a different way out this time."
...Meanwhile, Back on the Beach...
Mr. Blastenkopf pulled the lanyard on the cannon's fuse, causing it to hiss and spark mightily...and then, nothing. Not even a quiet "pop".
Deadbishop and Tybalt looked over his shoulder, and then at each other, shrugging.
"Whats wrong with it, Blasty?", inquired Deadbishop to the Master Gunner.
"Don't rightly know, Cap'n. Whatever magic keeps it from working must be still in the air. We'll get it right, somehow."
"Keep at it, Gunner," said Tybalt. "We'll need it, and soon. I've a feeling things at Balor's Fortress are about to pick up."
Opening a flask, Blasty bent back over the breech of the gun.
"Magic ingredient?" asked Deadbishop.
"I'll say!", said Blasty, taking a mighty swig, then offering the bottle.
"Can't hurt," said Deadbishop, taking a deep draught and handing it over to Tybalt.
"Can't at that," said Tybalt.
The three continued grinding, mixing, testing, popping and swigging long into the night, the sound of the surf a constant counterpoint to the miserably weak "pops" coming from the big guns muzzle.
"Their army...it grows"...Balor was surprised..."Though its been some time, it seems that only yesterday, they were too pathetic to stand...and now?!" His thoughts troubled him as his henchmen reported the gathering storm beyond his walls.
"Tonight, we shall turn the power of the crystal fully loose upon them. Now, they will understand that the roar they think to preach is but mewling before the wind."
His stewards retreated from the throne room, bowing as they left, intent upon doing his bidding.
The guard looked through the bars in the window on the door...he was bringing a pot of foul gruel and fetid water to the prisoner, the first in many weeks...the prisoner was never awake, and the guard usually just threw the rations in...peering squintliy through the bars, the guard seemed puzzled...was there no one in the cell?
Entering, the guard looked up, down and around...the cell seemed quite empty...not a sight nor smell...not even a sound...except faint giggling coming from under an old tin cup in the corner...
Bending over, the guard looked at the old cup, then pulled it up, off the floor...to be met by the surprising sight of a teeny squirrel, tiny fae, and-only-slighltly larger half-elf.
"Huh??" the guard muttered under his foul breath, sounding stupidly surprised.
With a burst of sparkles, Amras turned full size, grasping the guard around the neck between bicep and forearm, ramming the sluggish lummox into the cell wall. The oaf lay where he fell, Amras claiming the small dagger from his belt.
"Your shrink charm still worked, somehow, Trill. Good job!"
Tail Flag, ever a scout squirrel, was already out in the hallway. He looked left, then right, then back in the cell.
"Go ahead, you tell me," Amras seemed to be answering him. "We need to find weapons and a way out."
The squirrel went left...Trill and Amras followed.
Amras stumbled. His sight was blurry from the injured eye. Trillium fashioned a patch for it out of a bit of sparkly green cloth and leather thong. It seemed to help.
It was then that two more sparkly lights appeared in the dark hall.
"About time," said Trill with a lilt. Nytshade and Apljx hovered before them.
"We couldn't let you have all the fun," 'Shade laughed as she spoke.
Amras took it in...after so long in the dark and the cold, here he was, beautiful faeries floating and dancing before him...
It was then that they heard the the guard coming down the hall.
"Drummer, hide!" Hissed Apljx, and Amras ducked into a shadow. Amras didn't quite understand what happened next, but it was not the first time he was perplexed while with these three.
The sparkles were bright and made bell-like noises...the guard stood mollified before the three fae, quite charmed...indeed, it was the most charming sight he had ever seen, and he was ready to watch it forever...he was still standing there drooling the next morning when he was found, locked up in an otherwise empty cell...
Greetings after a long time away...it is my intention to have this old story wrapped up and finsihed an put back to bed before leaving for Scarby very early on Thursday morning. It is, in a way, a tribute to many old friends, some still here, some gone on.
This story started 6 years ago, and most of it was lost during the Great Crash of 2008, but, for those who remember, I hope this will tie things up. For those who don't remember, I beg your indulgence, and I'll be out of your way soon...
May the trees be ever protectful of all of you.
Love!
The Spirit of Ren
Amras
The guard's leather armor was a little big for Amras, but it eventually fit with a little fae magic applied. Even the boots. The footman's axe felt especially good in his hand, and Amras seemed to grow strong from its heft.
"This way, Drumer," whispered Trill, and she and Nyteshade and Apljx lead on down the dark hall. After many turns and ups and downs and low, low places, they came to a pool of black water.
"Only way out, Drummer," said Nyteshade. "At least for big folk."
With that, Trillium, Nyteshade and Apljx flew through the next low archway, and disappeared.
More to come...
Strapping the axe to his back, Amras lowered himself into the water. He took a deep breath and went under. The water was cold, and felt slick, like dirty oil. He could see glittering light through the swirls, as if filtered through glass. He followed the light. After about a minute, just below what he thought to be the surface of the water, he struck a thin grating. He pushed against it, but it would not budge. Bracing himself, he heaved against it. Still no movement.
He was running out of air.
...and then, the grating began to sparkle, and to move. Amras smiled grimly. He had seen these glitterers before.
The grating swung fully open.
Amras surfaced, and tried to keep his breath from exploding out of his mouth. The night air was cold and clear.
The freedom felt wonderful.
Amras removed his soggy leather and boots. The fae, who were waiting for him, gasped at how shrunken he appeared. Baylor's dungeon had taken its toll. Amras rung the moisture from his clothes, redonning it still damp.
"Trill, 'Shade, Apl...lets find the Queen. There is much to do."
"He has had our Amras long enough," the Queen said. "Its time we went in."
Bonnie, Deadbishop, Tybalt, Calith and Mr. Blastenkopf were sitting around a camp table. A small fire of dry cedar logs was burning nearby. Their mugs were half-full of a pale-colored ale.
"The pirates are ready," Deadbishop said, taking a large pull from his mug.
"As are the elves," said Calith softly. "Flidais and Huor will be here in the morning with a full legion. What we really need is a way through that wall."
Deadbishop looked at Blastenkopf. Responding to the unspoken question, Blastenkopf snarled, "Plenty o'powder ready, Cap'n, and the guns are in place. Still, found no way to get the powder to light. The blasterin' stuff just won't go off."
Powder and magic oft did not mix.
Deadbishop sat and thought. "Keep at it, Blasty. We need a way through."
Blastenkopf growled and hurried through the darkness.
A guard's voice sounded from the edge of the camp. "Pass, friend, and Gods be praised."
Amras limped into the light of the fire, and stood shivering next to it.
All stood, and were shocked at their old comrade's appearance.
Bonnie, hugging him, asked him, "And where have you been?"
"Enjoying the hospitality of yon castle, lass, though I fear the service there has suffered much."
Bonnie smiled. Amras was back. "And, did they throw you out for unseemly behavior, Squirrel Lord?"
"More like they ran out of good ale, so we left, Majesty."
A large draught of potion from Lord Ambrosious' magic chest caused Amras to sleep through the night. Upon arising that morning, he looked stronger, if a bit pale. The redness of his good eye was much improved.
"The eye-patch looks good my friend. You look like one of the crew." Deadbishop was up early.
Amras smiled. It was good to be with friends again...plotting mayhem...
At second breakfast, a counsel of war was held.
Amras, rock-steady at last, stood before them. "This, Majesty, is what my little stay behind Balor's lines has let me find out: Balor has some arcane device, empowered by one of the shards you seek. Indeed, this shard is the only one remaining. The elves quest proved the loss of the first, and the fairies found the second. No doubt even they can't remember where they put it. We have little time to deal with the third. We must. It is this device which causes the anguish we wish to remove from Glenlivet.
Suddenly, the sound of loud laughter split the air. Three balls of brilliant light cleaved the day,and with a sudden popping sound, Trillium, Nyteshade and Apljx hovered before them.
"Well, now that we're all here," the Queen smiled.
"Go on, Squirrel Lord."
"We have no choice but to go in and fight it out," Amras continued. "The device Balor is using must be rendered useless, somehow. It is what is causing all the shifts and discord and pain. There must be a way through Balor's walls."
"Blasty has been working on something for the guns. The magic here keeps the powder from lighting. We've found nay way around the problem." Tybalt seemed tired as he spoke.
Apljx squealed. "Ooooh, powder? Guns? Light? Booms? I want to see."
"Us too, us too," Trillium and Nytshade laughed as they spoke in unison. "Show us, show us!"
The three fae, Deadbishop, Tybalt and Blasty headed for the gun pit.
"How do our forces stand, lass?" Amras almost whispered as he spoke.
"We have the pirate crews of Deadbishop and Tybalt. Calith and Flidais lead a legion of elves, both archers and cavalry. My royal guard is here. Your old student, Huor, commands them."
Amras smiled, thinking of the serious Huor leading the Royal Guard. A force to be reckoned with.
Amras eyes seemed to light up. "And, three fairies!"
The Queen smiled back at him. "Aye, three crazy fae."
Amras looked to the tree tops. A rustling could be heard that was more than leaves in the wind. More a scampering...
"And, lass, perhaps a bit more..."
Trillium hovered over the cannon. Blasty was trying to explain the workings of fire arms and big guns and rates of fire and velocity vectors and...well, you get the idea.
The only words the three fae seemed to hear were "Explosions...fire works...snaps and pops...bright lights...big booms..."
When Blasty tried to demonstrate, the same thing happened that always happened. Nothing. Upon pulling the firing lanyard, the spark fizzled and went out. Time after time after time.
"Let me get this straight," said Apljx. "You put the little fire in back there, and the big, sparkly booms come out the other end?"
"That's the way its supposed to work," said Blasty.
Apljx's eyes became large, and she started to shimmer with excitement. Sparkles seemed to shoot from her.
"I have to see this!" She exclaimed, and she immediately flew into the big guns barrel. Multicolored lights started to flow from the mouth of the big gun, in a steady stream.
Nyteshade looked at the firing lanyard.
"You say you just pull it like this?" She grabbed the loose end of the cord.
"NO!" Shouted Tybalt.
The powder in the gun exploded with a tremendous roar. Sparkling flames shot out of the barrel with the sound of giant wind chimes.
"APL!" Trillium shouted.
A bright pink and yellow light flew at them out of the trees. Apljx hovered over them, as if being fired from a ship's cannon was an everyday thing.
"Lets do that again!" She howled.
Blasty's eyes were as large as his smile. "Let's go tell the Queen that we may just have a way through that soon-to-be-blasted wall after all."
The next morning, early...
"You have let the Squirrel Lord escape. Guard! Take him to the well."
Balor scowled as he addressed his Sergeant of the Guard. Things had not been going well.
"Two of the three shards lost. And, that pitiful army of discards in the woods stands before me as if equal to the task.
"My lord Balor, there is a message from the wall. The outlanders in the woods wish a parlay."
"Parlay!?!" Balor spat the word. He gestured for his weapons. Donning them, he pushed through his lieutenants, and they fell in behind him as he climbed the stone steps. Upon reaching the top of the wall, he was met by a sight that he would take with him to the end...
Queen Bonnie stood in the middle of the massive formation, clad in her finest gold and bronze, her dragon standard fluttering behind her in the freshening breeze. More standards blazed around her, The black of the pirates', the green and brown acorn, the silver tree and multicolored flowers. Calith and his archers stood to the Queen's right, with Flidais cavalry behind, spear and sword glinting in the sun. To Bonnie's left, the pirates stood in loose formation, cutlass, pike, axe and hook at the ready.
Another group of pirate's manned a battery of three very shiny brass cannons.
"Hear me, Balor!" Bonnie's strong voice pierced the morning.
"What have you to say, woman?" Balor tried to sound bored. Perhaps some of his new-found fear was starting to sound through, though. His troops were now assembling on the wall, and quickly. Archers without end. The sound of a trebuchet being tightened could be heard from inside the wall.
"Long have we journeyed, through your storms and evil beasts, Balor. The evil that besets us here has been traced to you and this place. Surrender the shard, and we will fold our tents and leave. Defend it, and we will leave you in your ruin."
"Turn on the shard," Balor whispered hoarsly to his deputy, who hastened down the steps.
"I say to you, Queen Bonnie, and to your pitiful and motley alliance, that you shall end in one of two ways: Either spitted upon our wrath, or enslaved to our will! What is your wish?"
Then, with a loud humming and vibration, the shard device came on. It soon reached a hideous screeching. All of Bonnie's troops felt it. Balor waited for their panic to begin. Balor looked down upon them, expecting their wailing.
To his horror, they were smiling...and holding hands...
"No, Balor, we are not running this time. The time for your fear and darkness is over. Never again!"
"What foulness is this?" Balor thought.
"We are here together to defeat you," said Bonnie. "And, the Spirit of Ren is with us."
"FIRE," cried Balor, and the arrows of his archers flew enmasse.
"I'll show you spirits...dead ones," Balor's thoughts were only of hatred.
The arrows began to rain down upon the Queen's troops, a few of which were hit and went down.
Calith's archers immediately advanced. They returned fire. The blue sky darkened a bit from the arrow shafts blocking the sun.
"Turn up the shard. Make it stronger!" Balor hissed to his magicians below him in the courtyard.
Making arcane movements with his hands, he caused the humming sound from the shard machine to become louder.
Tears flowed from Calith's eyes as well as the eyes of his archers. Balor's shard device was strong. Their arrows, though skillfully fired, missed the mark more often than not.
Calling to Bonnie, Calith cried, "We must disable the machine, Majesty!"
Balor smiled from the wall. This was going to be easy after all.
Bonnie looked toward the gun pits. Deadbishop directed one gun crew, Tybalt and Blasty the other two.
Each gun seemed to have a small ball of sparkling light hovering over it. If you were close, you could hear giggling.
Bonnie nodded at her gunners.
The three fae raced into the gold-colored barrels of the cannons. The three gunners then fired them, pulling all three lanyards as one.
It would be said in the times to come that what happened next was the true renaissance of the Spirit of Ren...
The three cannon roared. Long streams of brilliant light flew from each barrel. Pinks and greens, blues and golds, reds and yellows and all the colores in between, each with a loud, gong-like explosion as the light stream collided with the black walls of Balor's fortress.
The walls shook, rocking Balor and his men. Cracks began to form in the stone.
The three fae, laughing and squealing as if at a festival, and each having rode the lightening into the walls with much joy, flew back to the cannons.
"AGAIN!" They cried as one.
Again indeed. The three gun crews reloaded immediately.
"Loose the Devil's Fire," cried Balor.
The trebuchets whistled as they flung their deadly missiles. The large balls of light exploded when they hit.
One took out the cannon Mr. Blastenkopf had been aiming. Apljx immediately shoved Nyteshade, telling her to move over, she was coming with her.
Fires began everywhere. Thankfully, the pirates were used to putting out fires, mainly due to the fact that they had been responsible for starting so many of them over the years. The fires were soon under control.
The two remaining cannons kept up a steady and sparkly fire, the fae enjoying themselves tremendously as they rode each blast into the castle, soon smashing the trebuchets into sparkly rubble.
The bombardment of Balor's castle had been going on for hours. The walls, now somewhat crumbly, were no longer black, but rather glowed with all the colors of the rainbow.
Balor saw movement in one of the trees...a man, dark-clad...The Squirrel Lord! He seemed to be holding a staff, pointing over the remains of the wall. He seemed to be speaking, but to whom? Then, the tops of the trees seemed to start to move.
Amras chittered, and his furry familiars chattered back at him.
Amras shook his head, smiling.
"No, my friend, leave him to me."
Balor's eyes widened as he saw hundred of tiny brown and grey shapes leap from the trees onto the rubble that had been his wall. The shard magic, now muted and powerless against Bonnie's Ren Spirit Spell, no longer stopped them. Indeed, it no longer stopped anything. The squirrel army raced over the wall, easily evading the clumsy humans trying to stop them.
And, they headed straight for the cauldron which held the shard.
Balor's men screamed in confusion as the furry army poured over them. There was nothing they could do. Those squirrels not taking out the soldiers jumped into the giant cauldron, and, using their tiny, muscular bodies as levers, and working as one, they hefted the shard out of the bowl. Small and dark and slightly cold to the touch, the shard was carried into the forest upon a moving brown and grey carpet of fur.
Balor watched as it disappeared. And, he heard a voice.
"Balor!"
"What now," thought Balor.
Turning, he saw Amras on the wall, walking slowly towards him.
"Balor, you are mine. Now!"
Amras stood before Balor, clad simply in green and brown, holding the falchon he had carried all the way from Glenlivet, freshly returned to him by his old Student, Huor.
Balor own weapons were glorious to behold. His long sword, sharp, was bejeweled as if a crown. He sneered at Amras small sword.
"At least this will be easy." Balor had had more stupid thoughts before, but not by much.
Balor swung his long sword. He was fast, and strong. Amras narrowly fended it.
Amras stood before Balor, breathing easily. Balor swing again.
"Come, Balor, is that all you have? And me just a common rat-wrangler?"
Balor swung again and again, just missing each time.
The sweat was pouring down his face, and his arms.
Soon, he could barely hold the sword.
Amras' sword quickly cut Balor's armor from him. The shiny black steel clanged as it hit the ground.
With a blur, Amras' falchon knocked Balor's great sword from his hand.
With his short sword blade pointed at Balor's neck, Amras looked over at his Queen, as if asking her bidding...
Bonnie looked at Amras. She knew that she was asking him for her wish. Death or life for Balor...
Bonnie thought of all they had been through. Each adventure proving to them how wonderful it was to live. Life was the most important gift of all. Life, joy, and forgiveness.
"Amras..." She called to her Captain.
Amras looked at her, his usually bemused smile on his face.
"Let it be life this day."
Amras nodded, seeming to shrug at the same time.
"Balor, you will live, thanks to her wisdom and goodness. She knows that life is precious. Its a lesson you need to learn."
At the direction of the Queen, Balor was chained by the Elvish Guards, and taken away to the forests of Ocala, the forests he scorned so much. From his cell he could see squirrels playing in the trees...and occasionally, they seemed to be watching him, as if sharing a joke...
They stayed in their encampment outside the walls that night, much more comfortable there than in the fetid walls of Balor's Fortress. They looked around at each other in the firelight as they drank from foamy mugs, each remembering a summons on a dark, wet night, long ago, from a man none could even now remember.
The Queen, Bonnie, Keeper of the Realm, Lord A. hovering over all of them.
Deadbishop and Nyteshade, laughing and playing at some game near the fire.
Trillium and Apljx, wondering if stuffy old Drummer was EVER going to play again, so they could dance.
Tybalt and Almalora, already planning the building of their next ship.
Blasty, looking at the stars, and wondering if he could indeed get there.
Calith, also looking into the heavens, thinking, "been there, done that...and back again..."
Flidais, singing a calming song to her horse as she brushed it, and thinking, "Flidais?? That Am never could remember my elvish name."
And then, there was Amras. Knowing that most of the scars would heal, his only thoughts were of the quest, and where next it might lead him. Lolly, long lost Lolly, was out there somewhere, and he would find her.
But first, rest. And comradeship around a fire. And dark ales and red, red wine.
The Spirit of Ren was good again. Long may it hold you in its palm my friend.
As always, cheers from the Ocala!!
And so ends Book III. Books 1 and II are lost to the ether net of course, but imagine if you will tales of high adventure, with the love of family and friends the driving force, and you're halfway to being there.
If you have liked this little story, I am happy. No great writer here, it is but a story for the camp fire.
I thank you for your time. Now get out there, and live the adventure!
Love to all!
8)
Dear Amras-Thank you so much for finishing this story with love and pizazz! Well done! Huzzah! It brought tears to my eyes! HUGS!!!
sigh...so adventure has finally ended...tis sad that the beginning and middle, with all the surprises we threw at each other along the way, has been lost but at least we have an ending. (who knew I was a princess?!?!?!)
And Drummer, we're still waiting.... ;D :D ;)
Dear me, but these were fun, heady, glorious days.
Must've been when we were all a bit...younger...