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The Shrouded Llar: Warrior of the Core

noreply@blogger.com (J.A. Kerns) — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 02:05:00 +0000

Chapter Four

     Power huh? the thief thought, she had stayed up most of the night. She talked and listened to the old man’s story. Every now and then she would lean back in her chair to look out the window to. The old man seemed to have an unusual amount of knowledge about this object. “So where is this magical item at?” she had asked him while he was taking a break to drink.

     “Last I heard it was took some where by mages, or was it wizards, well you get what I mean. They were corrupted by its powers and well that’s how it ends. Every now and then you will hear of its rumor someone carrying it. But you will hear about that for awhile and then nothing.” The old man laughed when he saw the smirk on her face “But who knows where it is now, lost in time for all we know.” He started to yawn and said he should head to bed soon. Yet he was more then willing to stay and talk to the girl, who seemed to be very different from the rest he had met. One with her zeal and sense of adventure couldn’t be found everyday.

     “So what is this object?” she asked. She watched the old man carefully now, and wondered if he could be something more than he appeared to be. He most likely just happened to know this information from stories he had heard others tell.

     The elderly man smiled as his fingers twisted his long grey beard looking at her. He knew what she was thinking, for her eyes and the smirk on her face told him everything that was going on in her head. He had lived long enough to know the difference between someone who liked to hear stories, and a person who was ambitious and liked adventures. “Well, I’m going to retire to bed. I should warn you if you do go after the object. You may want to rethink your choice, or at least hope you’re strong enough to acquire it.” He warned her as he left the table.

     How did he know and what did he mean by strong enough? she asked herself. Her hazel eyes watched the old man walk up the stairs. She took a deep breath. The fresh air from the open window and the aroma of the food that had been cooked tickled her nose. She knew better then to go and eat before bed. With a yawn she stood up and stretched.
Like her company she started walking up the wooden stairs each one creaked as she stepped up them. It seemed louder then when she first got there, maybe it was because there was more noise earlier then there was now.

« § »

     The storm had passed, so the sky was clear, and the roads were muddy and difficult to travel. The sun rode high in the sky, meaning it was close to noon and she had slept in longer then she had planned. “To Gitosum, I have a long journey ahead of me.” she said to herself.

     Most of her journey was spent taking money from people who passed her on the roads. Many people‘s pockets seemed bare, and for traveling merchants that was very odd.

     As she rounded a bend in the road she saw four men blocking the road ahead. She now realized were the money was going to. Worst of all, they were blocking the road that leaded to where she needed to go. It was bad enough that the sun beat down on her. It was like she was in an oven or something hotter, if there was something hotter then being a burning oven.

     “Excuse me but your blocking my path.” She announced when she was in hearing range, as well as line of sight.

     The men laughed at her, and as they looked her over they laughed even more. Her hands were on her hips, and she stood her ground firmly. “Sorry, but you have something we want.” the tallest man said with a grin. He eyed her pockets that held the money she had recently acquired. One of the men on the left charged at her. He tried to grab her so she couldn’t escape them, but to his disappointment she dodged every attempt to catch her. The others joined in when they saw that the one man wouldn’t be enough.

     She just laughed at them. She saw that they were nothing more then a bunch of clumsy idiots that played thieves. “If you want something from me you gotta be able to catch me first.” Ace scolded them. She dodged them over and over again, and laughed when the men ran into each other. She let this go on for a little while longer before she decided that it was too easy and boring. I hope this wasn’t how bad I was when I first started out. she thought to herself. She suddenly had an idea that made her smirk.

     “Sorry to run guys, seeing that we’re having so much fun and all but….” She took a step back and looked at the four men who tried to steal from her, now tied up nice and tight, “…but you four seem to be a bit tied up at the moment.” She laughed and looked at the one who seemed to be the leader. She leaned in close to him, “Here is some advice when stealing. Don’t steal from another thief, it never ends well for anyone.”

     She walked off and left them tied up on the side of the road. The men cursed as she walked away from them. It only made her laugh even harder at what had happened. “Well that was fun. If I don’t have anymore distractions I can make it to the city in just a day or two….” She paused for a moment, “…I have got to stop talking to myself.” She said with a sigh. She wished the sun would go behind a cloud, just for a few seconds, so she could get cooled down some.

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The Shrouded Llar: Warrior of the Core

noreply@blogger.com (J.A. Kerns) — Fri, 07 Sep 2007 01:47:00 +0000

Chapter Three

     He looked over his men as they celebrated their latest victory. He spared a glance at the moon, it was almost full. It’s fitting that my last battle with them be under the full moon. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay with them much longer. He must continue on with his journey, and he would only be able to bring one or two of them along. It’s almost time for them to continue on without me. We just have one more battle to go, and then I will leave them to police themselves.

     He looked back to his men when a young dark elf soldier walked up to him. “Captain, are you going to come enjoy the spoils of our victory? Everyone is asking for you to make your presence known among us.” He stood there in his black leather armor, with his long white hair touching his waist. His pale blue eyes looked directly into the eyes of the older dark elf, never wavering.

      “I’m enjoying them from afar. Plus, I need to think on our next battle.” He paused for a moment, “Go and enjoy the spoils of the battle, or do you not want to?”

     “Yes Sir! We look forward to you joining us.” He hesitated before he turned around. His arm was twitching, trying not to go for his scimitar.

     “Do you have more to inquire about soldier?” he asked, placing his hand on the hilt of his scimitar. He would not be cut down by some lowly soldier, and he would use this peon as an example to them all that he was still the Captain.

     “Sir, there are rumors in the band that you will be leaving us soon. Who will lead us when you are gone? There is no one of your caliber here.” His voice started to waver as he saw his Captains hand slide to his scimitar. He placed his hand on the hilt of his scimitar so that his hand wouldn’t shake.

     “We will discus this when the time comes. Go and enjoy yourself this night, before I decide you don’t deserve to breath.” The Captain’s eyes took on a life of their own as he eyed the young dark elf. “You do not want me angry this night, that will end badly for the messenger.” He stood faster than the than the young dark elf’s eyes could process. He let his flowing white hair fall, and drew his scimitar, pointing it at the soldier.

     “Yes Sir!” The young dark elf saluted his captain, and ran towards his fellow comrades as fast as his legs would take him. He didn’t even dare to look back with his white hair waving in the wind. He finally slowed when he reached the rest of the band next to the campfire.

     He watched as the young dark elf ran from his presence. His men sat around a large campfire drinking ale and telling stories of previous battles. The campfire was a harsh brightness in the dark of the night. They need to know who their Captain is, and this night I will show them that I am still their Captain, he thought to himself. He looked at the moon once more then walked slowly down to the campfire. I have no equal in this band of raiders, and they need to be taught this, yet again.

     As he entered the circle of his men they burst into cheers. “Captain Rikmyrlin Arkenath! It’s so good of you to join us.” The men parted as he walked pass them. They knew what would happen to them if they did not move quickly enough.

     “Everyone quite down, I will take the breath you cherish if you choose not to.” Rikmyrlin positioned himself in the middle of his men. “This next battle will be the last that I will be with you. I must continue on with my journey. If any so wishes to challenge me, I will surely show them who the Captain of this band is.”

     “Why can’t we go with you!” came a voice from the crowd.

     Rikmyrlin looked into the crowd, searching for the owner of the voice. He pointed to a dark elf playing with his scimitar. “You wish to test that blade on me? Step forward, and see if you can drop your Captain!” He rushed forward with such haste the dark elf’s head was on the ground before anyone could move. He straightened himself and turned back to his me. “Anyone else have anything to say? Now be quite before you all suffer the same fate!” He looked around at his men, “Our last battle together will be on a village outside of the city of Gitosum. They have our comrades held captive. We will destroy the surface dwellers, and free our captive brethren. Let us show them the full might of the dark elves!”

« § »

      Rikmyrlin stood at the entrance of the Underdark, waiting for the sun to sink below the horizon. The sky was crimson, like the world had already predetermined the fate of the village. He watched as the sun spilled its last light over the world. Tonight we shall see a slaughter like no other before it. Blood will rain from the heavens.

     As true dark finally settled in, Rikmyrlin signaled for his men to rise from the Underdark. He had only one mission that night, pure slaughter with no survivors. He signaled to split up and meet at the village.

     He took his two guards, Servis and Derthen, with him as they all traveled to the village. He had Servis take point, and Derthen take the rear. They would take the arrows that were surly to come, if they were discovered. They were dark elves, and rarely was it that they were discovered before their task was done. Precautions were always set in place, just in case.

     The moon was high and full as they entered the forest. There was a light fog on the forest floor. The trees rose high and the shadows aided them on their trek to the village. They ran swiftly and quietly through the forest. The wind flowed past their smooth skin, offering no resistance. They slowed when they reached the village, their adrenaline pumping.

     The people of the village had retired with the sun. The village streets were dark, and all but a few houses were dark. The village streets were empty except for the village guard, a farmer’s militia meant to protect the village from threats like the dark elves. Not matter their skill, they would be no match for the band of dark elves headed their way.

     Rikmyrlin muttered an incantation under his breath. Let the massacre began, he spoke into the minds of his men, no one is to be left alive, we take no prisoners. With that said he signaled for everyone to begin the mission given to them.

     Stealth and darkness in his favor, Rikmyrlin slipped into the village streets. Let them feel the fury of the dark elf, he thought as he slipped into the first house without any lights on. The main room only had what was necessary for daily life. He stared at the bare walls of the house for a moment then slipped into the main bedroom. The mother and father of the household were laying in the bed in the center of the room. Rikmyrlin descended upon them. He cut both their heads off with one fatal sweep, spraying blood all over the plain walls. A child walked in the room as he had finished his job. Before the child could utter a single cry, he had a dagger out of his boot and in the child’s throat. The child fell to his knees choking then he fell to the floor dead. So much for going room to room, he thought laughing softly.

     He stepped over the child reentered the main room. He searched for a door leading to another room. He saw the door on the opposite side of the room, and snuck over to it, avoiding what furniture the family did have.

     He slipped into the next room. The room had a bed against one wall with a table next to it. A young man, near time to see his first battle, was laying on the bed with a young woman beside him. The eldest children I’m guessing, or moonlight lovers... It matters not. Without another thought he ran both his scimitars through the man’s chest. The blood from the man spattered onto the woman’s face. The woman started to stir when the warm liquid hit her face. He allowed her enough time to open her eyes, to see her killer, and then slit her throat. This is becoming to easy.

     As he was exiting the house he spotted a man strolling down the village street. He shrouded himself in darkness, and waited for the man to pass. As the man passed him, he shoved a scimitar into his lower back and forced it up. The man fell to the ground in two halves with blood raining over the street.

     As he made his way to the center of the village he heard screams of agony. Kill them all, and leave the village elder to me. He continued his trek to the village elder’s house. He snuck down the center of the village street. There was no life left in the village streets, but he would rather be safe than sorry.

     He came up to the elder’s house, the only two story house in the village. The lights were on, and there was movement in the house. Rikmyrlin snuck around to the back of the house, muttering an incantation as he went. He disappeared from sight as he saw an open window. Climbing through the window he saw that the whole household was up. He slipped into a corner and watched what the chaos they had created was causing. I will miss these raids, he thought to himself with a smirk. This house was much more lavish the last one he was in. The was art and furniture everywhere.

     With a thought he took the breath away from everyone within the house. He unveiled himself as they all lay suffocating on the floor. Looking around he spotted an elderly man with gray balding hair and a thinly frame. “You should have never taken our brethren captive!” he said. He released the spell from the elder and let the others suffocate. “Your village has discovered what the wrath of a dark elf truly is, and none will live to tell the tale.” With that he shoved his scimitars through the elder’s knees, making him scream and wither. There was no one to help him, they were all dead by now. “You my friend, will suffer more than anyone.” He withdrew his scimitars, and brought them down into the elder’s hands.

     The elder screamed, “Show mercy! We have done nothing to your kind!” He cried as he pleaded for his life.

     “We are dark elves, we know no mercy.” he whispered into the elder’s ear as he retrieved his scimitars. He stood, and with one last look he sliced the elder’s head off and exited the house. They will walk no more in the sun. Now is our time, let us head home.

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© Copyright 2007 Stories Unlimited (FictionPress ID:455437). All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Stories Unlimited.

The Shrouded Llar: Warrior of the Core

noreply@blogger.com (J.A. Kerns) — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 01:39:00 +0000

Chapter Two

     Two warrior elves ran with great haste through a thick old forest. The sun was setting as the elves readied their eyes for the twilight. The winds ran across their smooth elven skin and golden blond hair. They had their bows in hand and their quivers bounced against their back as they dashed through the lush old forest. A shadow snuck across the land, following the trail of their light darting feet.

      They had been running miles, and finally they started breathing heavily. The one called for a stop, he heard faint sounds of paws with his pointy ears. The younger one began to listen for the faint sounds. Arms reached back and knocked an arrow on the bow, for they were surrounded by a pack of hungry crazed wolves. With their heightened elven sight, they saw deep into the thick forest and found the prowling wolves stalking them.

      Suddenly, the old forest around them became very black. It was an unnatural twilight that even blocked out the setting sun. The wolves loomed in the shadows, gazing at them with red hungry eyes. Even with their elven eyes, they could not break through the old magic of the Black Gauntlet. As a shadow came walking out of the shadows, the two elven brothers let fly their arrows.

      The black cloaked figure had his sleeves folded back. He raised his red steel gauntlet to deflect the arrows fixed to his head and heart. “Don’t insult me with feeble weapons,” the black cloaked assassin said coldly. “You are elves! You are the Keepers of the Ancient Magic from the don of time. I know you can do better.” The two elven warriors gazed at him with much anger in their eyes.

      They both wore hard fine leather armor, armor for archers. the black cloaked assassin snorted. These aren’t swordsmen I heard about, he thought to himself. They still had to die as the others did. For if they were left to live, they will ride around the mountains, to the Elf Kingdom of Silverleaf, and they would spread word of hired assassins sent to kill the King’s two sons out on a trip to Gitosum.

      The assassin stared hard at the two elves. He reached into the folds of his cloak, in both gloved hands he held two fine emerald daggers. Each elf drew their own single scimitar from their belt. The wolves circled around in the shadows, ready to lunge on either of them if their master ordered it.

      The shorter elf charged in, thrusting his sword perfectly, but the assassin knew it was coming. He dashed to the side, and gripped the elf’s sword hand. He squeezed it so hard that the elf screamed with pain and dropped the scimitar. At that moment the assassin thrusted the emerald dagger in his right hand through the throat of the elf warrior. Through the corner of his eye, he watched the other elf warrior move behind him. He stood in the position of the final movement of the thrust and listened for the darting of footsteps.

      The elf kicked dust up as he charged. The assassin smiled as he quickly pulled back his emerald dagger and leaped high up for a back flip. The elf stopped in dismay as his eyes followed the assassin as he twisted and flipped above him. The moment the assassin touched the hard ground, the elf was holding his neck as blood flowed out of his throat. Elven blood dripped from the two emerald daggers.

      As he watched the elf choke on his own blood, the dark shadows were gone and the wolves far away. The sun had turned from orange to red as if elven blood touched the earth. The assassin removed his great hood, revealing his long dark brown hair. His face was shaved smooth with his emerald daggers. With his dark brown eyes, he watched the elf die slowly.

      He then kneeled down to the elf lying flat on his back. “Nothing personal,” he went on, “you were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” He then stabbed his emerald dagger through the heart of the elf. He wanted a quicker finish, he didn’t want the elf to suffer any longer. Suddenly, the elf shook violently, gurgling on his own blood. After a minute passed, he stopped shaking, and lied silently, finally dead.

      The assassin stared at the dead elves for a moment. He felt bad killing two noble creatures of the young earth. His lips thinned as he began chanting a spell. As he chanted the spell, he outlined the dead elf bodies in the dirt. Then he moved to outline the other elf. Still chanting the spell, he stood up straight. As the spell was finished, the earth the bodies lay on swallowed them back into the earth.

      “I hate killing good men,” he said to himself as he stared where the dead elves once lay. He wiped the blood clean of his emerald daggers.

      He looked over his shoulder and whistled loudly. In a moment, he heard galloping of a horse in the forest, his horse. He smiled as his horse stopped as it came up to him. He petted the horse’s fine white coat before he jumped into the saddle on its back. He fixed himself securely in the saddle, and took the reins into his hands. He pulled the reins to the right to turn the horse east, towards Gitosum. He kicked the side of the horse and they rode on the path towards home.

« § »

      Trumpets sounded, the many squires stood in the great arena of Gitosum waved flags of many different kingdoms. In the high stands, the people cheered loudly as knights rode into the great arena on top their majestic steeds. The symbol of their kingdom painted onto their shields, the swords held up in the air, and their visor shut. Their steeds jumped to onto their two hind legs, the people cheered even louder.The king in the high stands stood to address the people and welcome to the annual tournament, the tournament that will give the west island a champion knight. The people went quiet to listen to the king’s words.

      Outside the great arena was one young knight that was missing one piece of his armor, his helmet. A knight without a helmet could not joust in this tournament, so he is stuck in his tent. He waited for his squire to return with a new helmet so at least he may joust and represent his small village in the north. He stood there in full plated armor. It was strapped tightly about his arms, shoulders, waist, legs, and ankles. Underneath the iron plates was iron chain mail that guarded his torso, but the chain mail that went on his head laid on the table, beside his board sword and shield with a nice wolf painted on it.

      The entrance flaps of his tent opened, the young knight turned his gaze towards it immediately. It wasn’t who he had expected, but he was still surprised at who it was. “Brother? Is that you?” The young knight asked. The hood nodded slightly. Out from the folds of his black cloak, the visitor revealed that he was holding a small adorable pup and bottle filled with milk. The young knight’s heart softened at the sight of the pup’s chubby stomach, its small paws, and small mouth that was sucking on the bottle, drinking down the milk.

      “Mallafest Fenris…” the young knight smiled.

      “Grodafest Fenris,” Mallafest replied, holding the helpless pup in one hand, as the other removed his hood. The young knight looked like a younger Mallafest. He smiled warmly at his little brother. “Look at you! Father would be proud.” Grodafest snorted as his smile faded away. He looked at away.

      “… Yes he would,” Grodafest said coldly and sighed. He paused for a moment. “So what do you call yourself these days? I heard a lot about the prestigious assassin, Martin Band’In.” Mallafest smiled faintly. “I heard two elf messengers went missing a few days ago. There was word in the slums of Gitosum that an assassin named Martin was sent to kill the two Elven Princes.” Mallafest’s lips thinned.

      The older one didn’t say anything back for a good while.

      “What are you even doing here?” Grodafest asked.

      “I come to learn of the where the maps are,” Mallafest answered. Grodafest snorted, somehow he had known. The maps that father had come across. Maps that showed the many entrances to the Underdark, that go deep into dark elf territory where there were tales of an ancient magical item of great magic. He shook his head. He knew where to find the maps and His older brother had the only key that opened the chest that held the maps.

      “Who wants them now?” Grodafest yelled. “Whose foolish enough to go on such a suicidal journey? Aye?” He stared dead in his older brother’s eyes. Mallafest didn’t say a word. He merely placed the small pup on the table. “Please, just leave.” Mallafest did just that and walked towards the entrance. He stopped for a moment, his head hung low as he sighed.

      “Winter is coming,” Mallafest said quietly. “And the price of that knowledge could get the village by for at least five more winters, long enough for the drought to end. Oh well.” He took another step and was gone. Grodafest licked his lips as he looked towards the flaps of his tent. He heard crying as he watched the helpless pup lose his bottle. At that moment, the pup turned into an iron helmet. Strangest of all, the visor of the helmet resembled the beak of a dog. Grodafest smiled.

      He moved towards the table and strapped the helmet on. After he made sure the helmet was secure he walked out of his tent. As he walked into the sunlight, his horse was waiting at the door. His smile grew bigger as he jumped on his horse. A squire ran up to him and handed Grodafest his shield and lance. He kicked the horse and galloped in the great arena. There he was welcomed with great thunderous cheers.

      Hour after hour he watched other knights joust. Finally his name was shouted throughout the arena that it was now his turn to joust. It was his time to test if his thrust can hold true in the eyes of the gods. His horse galloped to one end of the arena and his opponent to the opposite.

      The air was calm, the arena silent, and his armor shined brightly in the sunshine. He gripped his lance tightly, and took a deep breath as he gazed at his opponent at the far end. If he won, he would recieve prize money that will insure his village would not starve this coming winter. If he was to lose, his village would starve. All because he didn’t train enough, the long hours of thrusting his lance perfectly would mean nothing.

      He shut his visor as the trumpets sounded. The flags waved, and the horses sped down the middle. The people’s cheered so loud it was deafening. Grodafest didn’t hear them. All he heard was the beating of his horse’s hooves, the clanking of his armor, and his slow breathing.

      His lance shattered against the other knight’s shield knocking the other knight off his horse, and the flag of the wolf was waved wildly. The people cheered all the louder. Grodafest let go of his lance and took off his helmet as he looked around in disbelief. He couldn’t believe he had just won. It was a miracle. He rose his right hand in triumph. He was the happiest he ever could be.

      In the stands, the black cloaked Mallafest smiled. He felt so proud of his younger brother. Mallafest was proud that father would be proud of Grodafest. The Fenris house would finally be recognized as noble blood on the west island. It was a day to remember, a day he will never forget.

      The helmet Grodafest was wearing turned back to the small pup again. The pup sat on his bum for a moment as it gazed around. He sniffed at the air, trying to find his master’s scene, because his master was calling to him. He licked his nose once, and the scene was clear as day. He ran after his master in the black cloak that was walking out of the great arena.

The Shrouded Llar: Warrior of the Core

noreply@blogger.com (J.A. Kerns) — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 18:47:00 +0000

Chapter One

     The storm was harsh, no one in their right mind was willing to travel in it. Even the creatures outside seemed to be hide in their homes. The only people at work were at the inns and the town pubs, but of course people lived there. The small, dank inn was filled with people, mostly men, who were drinking and eating, many of them caught by the sudden summer storm.

     Except for one girl, who looked to be no older then seventeen, sat at a table near the fire drinking one of the strongest ales around. Many stared at her in disbelief, as she drank and devoured her food. Her, on the other hand, paid no attention to them, and kept drinking and eating. She was extremely hungry, and had more then enough money to pay the keeper for the food, drinks, and a room for the night. “This place is boring.” she said as she took along sip of her ale, as if she had went days without anything to drink.

     Once again the men just stared at her, but none of them were willing to go near her. The rule around this place was to leave everyone alone, especially if you didn’t know the person, and this girl was most defiantly a stranger and just strange period. She looked around once more when she had finished her third glass. I think that is enough for one night. Don’t want to over do it like that one time back in that small little village…what was its name again? she asked herself, but let it go. She was more amused by the looks she was getting from everyone, even the dog was giving her a weird look.

     Though, when she first came in it had barked at her. She wondered if that was because she was thief, or because she had just robbed someone in a carriage with out them knowing it. She smirked to herself, and scooted her bag closer. It was now between her feet, so know one could get it, or come near it, without her knowing it, unless there was a wizard about. Maybe someone could get it, though she knew a little magic, and was confident that a wizard wouldn’t even touch her stash. “I’m getting tired, maybe I should go get some sleep.” she said out loud.

     She got up and started to go upstairs when the door swung open between the two guards that stood next to it. There was a man dressed in the finest clothing around, and behind him was another man, the sheriff. The thief’s eyes grew a little wide, but went back to normal before anyone could notice. They were quick around here, or maybe it was just luck that they had decided to rest in the same place as her, if luck was what you wanted to call it.

     “Inn Keeper, make us a table and have food ready with the best drink in the house.” ordered the Sheriff. Everyone was silent, even the dog had stopped begging people from scraps. The sheriff was not liked much by the people around here. He was rotten, so to say, not even the most corrupted of men liked him. The Sheriff stood in the middle of the room and looked at everyone, even the strange girl on the stairs who looked at him from over her shoulder. “We’ve had an unfortunate event happen earlier tonight! Our young lords Carriage was broken into, and money stolen from it. We would hope no one in our town would do such a horrible act, but sense this has happened, our guard will search everyone’s belongings and rooms, while the young lord and I eat.”

     Everyone moaned and groaned. It was a common thing for the sheriff to come in and make some story up about thieves, But the only true thief was usual the sheriff himself. In this case, he wasn’t, and with the young nobleman at his side that was obvious. Of course, this didn’t mean he would not take what he wanted anyways.

« § »

     “They don’t call me one of the greatest thief’s for nothing.” she whispered to herself. She had wrapped the stolen money in a cloth that smelt like peppers and sulfur. She thought fast and opened the closet door, bent down, and took a knife out of her pocket. She used the knife to pull up a board in the bottom of the closet. “There, if they can find it, it will be a miracle.” she said to herself. She made sure the spot didn’t sound hollow if it was stepped on. With a smile of triumph she sat down on the bed and looked around the small room. She heard the footsteps of the guards down the hall, they seemed to say, we are getting closer. She wasn’t worried, no one had seen her face, so they couldn’t turn her in. Plus, She was dressed like a hunter, there are many dressed like her downstairs. The only exception was that she was a woman.

     There was a sudden knock at her door, and when it opened two guards stepped in and smiled down at her. “We are here to check the room and your belonging to see if there are any stolen goods from the young lord’s carriage.”

     She smiled and nodded to them. “Go ahead, but you will not find anything of the sorts in my stuff.” she told them. She pointed to where her one bag was, it contained maps of the forest and roads, and a few furs that showed she could hunt. The bag was next to her bow and quiver that were made just for her.

     “There are five gold coins in here.” the guard to the right said. He looked at her with suspicion set on his face.

     She didn’t flinch at his words or the look he gave her. “I sold some furs in the town before this. If you like, you can buy one as well.” she said with smirk. The guards could not find anything, and cursed as they left her room. They took the five gold coins, or so they thought. Seeing that there is so much fun going on downstairs, I think I’ll go back down, she thought to herself. She really wanted to see the look on the guard’s faces when they saw that the money they took was missing.

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     “M’lords, I’m sorry to say that we found nothing from the carriage in the inn.” One of the guards stated. The young lord glared at the two guards as the sheriff stared at the two as a wolf would stare at its prey.

     Everyone had went back to what they were doing. A few people glanced at the strange girl, which had gone up stairs just seconds before the sheriff and his accompany had arrived, came downstairs again. The dog started barking at her as she came down the stairs. She looked down at it and pouted as the others stared. “What do you have against me uh?” she asked it as she looked the straight in the eyes. The dog stopped and just stared back, but it didn’t take long for it to start barking at her again. “Well I don’t like you either, I’m more of a cat person anyways.” she told the dog, as if it was a person who would talk back to her.

     Most of the people in the inn just laughed as they watched the girl talk to the dog, some of them even found it cute. After all, the girl didn’t look old enough to be out on her own. When she stopped messing with the dog she looked around to see a lot of people staring at her, even the young lord gave her a weird look. “What, did I do something wrong?” she asked.

     The young lord sent one of the guards to bring the girl to his table to join him. This made the sheriff smirk, he had no idea that the young lord would be interested in small girl such as this. “Like the poor much do you?” he asked. His guest turned to him with a look that said be careful. The sheriff shrugged his shoulders and sat down to eat. He couldn’t help but think there was something out of place with this young girl. “She is a cute little thing, isn’t she?” the sheriff asked wanting to see exactly what his rich friend had in mind.

     “Yes, she is.” was the only answer he got out of him.

     The girl was brought to him, taking both the guards to get her near the table. She glared at both of them. “Calm down, we mean you no harm.” the young lord said smiling at her. His smile was not returned, she had no idea what he wanted from her, but she had an idea. She wasn’t willing to give anything up to some rich boy. “I was hoping you would join us.”

     She smirked, and couldn’t help it. She always wonder what would happen if you turned down a rich mans offer, and she was about to find out first hand. “I’m sorry. I just came down to get a glass of water, other then that I’m off to bed. I have a long day ahead of me.” The young lord had a look of puzzlement on his face, like he had never been refused before. You could hear the sheriff snicker, but he had covered his mouth with his hand, the only thing that gave him away were his eyes. “Good night sir.” with that she started to turn around.

     Before she could fully turn around, the guards grabbed her shoulders and forced her to face the men at the table. “Our lords did not dismiss you.” the guard on the left said. The young girl just stared up at him as if he was the next on her list to kill.

     “What is your name?” asked the sheriff. She said nothing to him she had said good night and that was all there was to it. She was going back upstairs to bed one way or another. The sheriff looked at her harder and repeated the question but the small girl was still silent. “I can always cut your tongue out, and then you won’t be able to cry for help when you get into some trouble.” The words some and trouble were emphasized to tell her she better say something, but he didn’t seem to scare her.

     “There is no need for that sheriff, I’ll just give her a name. How about Maggie?” The thief raised an eyebrow at this. “Don’t like that one, how about Marcy?”

     The dark haired girl sighed deeply. After a few more tries to rename her she grew bored of the game, and decided to give the prince her first name. Gods forbid she give him the name she went by, they’d have her hanging from the nearest tree out side. “If you must know, and sense it seems impossible for you to come up with a good name, my name is Alexis.”

     She had insulted both the young lord and the sheriff several times in the short passing hours. “Well then Alexis, you should really learn some manners.” The young lord stated.

     She almost busted out laughing at. The men around the table glared at her and the ones around her stared and shook their heads. “Really? Where I’m from its rude to have guards bring you to some one, and have them force you to stay where you really don’t want to be, especially after you have reclined their offer so nicely.” The hands on her shoulders squeezed her to let her know she was beginning to over step boundaries.

     There were few snickers and laughs from the rest who sat drinking and eating. “Is it now? Did they also tell you it’s rude to say no to someone of noble birth?” asked the young lord, who had yet to give her his name.

     She looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, as if she was thinking on the answer hard. “No, I lived out in the country on small farm near the woods. I’ve farmed and hunted my whole life.” Alexis said with a small smile. The sheriff slammed down his fork into the table and looked as if he was about to hit the girl He stopped when he saw the lord staring at her in anger and amusement. “I also know it’s rude for a gentleman to not give his name to girl or lady who he seems to have some interest in, for what ever reason.” she gave him a questioning look that made the noble man smile.

     “You are right on that one.” he admitted as he stood up and bowed at the waist. “I am Lord Chamberling, first cousin of the king.”

     Still not impressed, she thought. She yawned just a little to show her lack of interest, and the fact that she was tired.

     “What would I have to do to get your interest?” he asked. He finally gave up sense his title did nothing for him in her eyes.

     She didn’t have to think twice on this one, “A glass of water, and allow me to go to bed.” Everyone around her laughed, even the dog seemed to stop barking and looked as if he was smiling.

     “Very well.” said Lord Chamberling. His guards finally let her go, so they could to get the glass of water. She insisted that one of the bar maids of her choice get it for her, because she did not trust it in the young noble mans hands.

     While she waited she heard an older man speaking of stories of an object that held great power to the one that possess it. Many thought the old man told of lies, but the thief had heard of this before. She wanted to know more, so she sat down by the old man and began to ask questions.