Snow

Prologue


The wind howled like a fierce beast, and threw another flurry of snow into the lone figure's face. A mere cloak held around the figure with its own hands, strange hands with talons and tan fur covering them. The tan furred face looking up into the swirl of snow was not at all human. A little elongated with a snout, and as a snarl half-heartedly left the figure's throat long sharp canines were flashed into the storm.

Icy blue eyes shining a fiery light for survival from the feline figure's face, the ears flattened to its head in an attempt to keep them from freezing off. The figure's clothing made of supple black leather now frozen with ice into the tan fur beneath. Every step was a frozen numb experience in a vast landscape of icy solitude. The rapier strapped to the figure's hip frozen into its sheath was useless against any monster that may have attacked. Then again no monster would be out in this weather.

Again the feline snarled, this time it came out more as a helpless sound in its throat. The feline figure knew that if it could not find warmth and shelter soon it would surely die. The feline couldn't even see in front of its face for all the snow, how was it supposed to find shelter in the blizzard that had come from nowhere. A flickering thought came to the feline.

"Pray."

The thought didn't sound in its own voice but in another's. Confused the feline shook its head trying to get the voice to go away.

"Pray and find the warmth of life."

Again thoughts invaded the feline's mind. The voice was low and flat, impossible to tell whether it was male or female.

"Ge..."

The feline's voice stuck in its cold throat.

"Get out of my head!"

The scream sounded gutturally in the common tongue of the realm. The sound was ripped from the air by the howling of the wind, not to be heard even by the feline.

Laughter rang in the feline's head. The feline's thoughts jumbled and ran slowly like ice flows through the northern sea. Was this voice its own thoughts laughing harshly at itself? Or was it truly some outside force? Just as the feline began believing the voice to be the frozen north's version of a mirage the voice again spoke.

"Your life force freezes in your veins as you hesitate. Pray to me, give your mind, body and soul and find everlasting life."

"Fuck you and your everlasting life."

The feline's voice was stronger now as it huddled its snout under the cowl of its cloak.

Again laughter rang through the feline's mind. It sounded satisfied. Then the feline knew, as if the voice had been a person standing next to it, that the source of the voice was gone. The wind redoubled its effort to bury the feline in its fury.

The feline finally could no longer lift one foot in front of the other and with its last remaining strength it snarled its anger at the storm. The wind died down as the roar escaped its throat. The feline's final roar sounded three times louder then it ever did before. And then the feline fell forward, no longer able to stand on its frozen limbs.

As the bright white and blue faded to black the feline felt itself hit something hard and wooden. That something gave beneath it and swung inward. And then it felt the warm blast of heated air. Male voices rising in confusion around the feline, then the cat knew only blackness.



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Part #1

~Five years later~


The golden skinned woman shook her head sending her auburn curls swaying as she declined the mans offer to go up the wooden stairs of the seedy bar. Her icy blue eyes glaring at his hand as it started for her elbow and the man hesitated. Her full red lips never twitching nor changing from the wide smile that put dimples right beneath her eyes as she shot the male the look.

No male in the bar could deny that he had at one point or another tried to get the striking woman to go up those stairs with them before. She had high cheekbones a pointed chin and a small round tipped nose, high arching brows that rose above her eyes gracefully but she was not exactly prettier then any other female at the bar.

There was just something about the muscular woman in her black doe hide bodice, ice blue chemise beneath it. Soft black linen pants tucked into the top of her thigh high black leather boots, and a flowing black cloak with white fur trimming finished the picture. Her golden skin showing some scars from battles she had been through.

A rapier was the only visible weapon, hanging from the belt at her hip; many pouches hung from the opposite side of her belt. Her disposition was never overly friendly or hateful. She was just a regular who came into the bar in the early hour's right before dawn. Even a few of the woman that came into the bar that had tried to find their way with her up the steps had been politely refused.

The man who had presently gotten rebuffed by her stood and turned away. Sneering he threw a snide comment her way.

"Snow huh, I now know why they call you that you icy bitch."

The female just rolled her eyes at the drunk and turned back to the bar and her glass of sweet water. The bartender at the end of the bar simply stuck his hand out to the fighter sitting there. A little laugh escaped him as the lean fighter shook his head and tossed the barkeep his gold. The pot of gold for whoever could finally get the woman to warm up and go upstairs with them growing as the barkeep put the gold into the chest beneath the bar.

The lean fighter who had watched many people try and fail stood up from his stool. Before he ever turned to walk toward her though the woman put her tab money on the bar, waved at the barkeep and walked out the door.

Snow walked out the bar door and stopped for a moment in the street, though one may call it more of an alley. She looked right then left, not really watching the beggars and the woman of the street. Then Snow looked up at the sky, somewhere between night and day the sun had yet to paint the sky.

The buildings looked like drunken people leaning on one another for support. No lights were set out for the street, it was one of the worst parts of town and the smell was far worse then the sight. Piss and bile topped off with the smell of rotting fish and feces.

Snow turned to her right and began her trek to The Temple. She had a meeting with one of the High Priests. No one disturbed her as she walked. Everyone knew that the rapier on her side was like an extension of herself. Her reputation was well known in fighting as well as other more nefarious acts such as the heist that happened last week at the wizards guild.

The other thieves left her alone as well, though she was not a part of their guild she was considered highly by their guild master. It was whispered that he was once a frequent of her bed, but that was suppose to have been six or seven years ago. Might as well have been a different lifetime ago.

By the time Snow made it out of the dock area and into the market area of town the sky was indeed brightening, the sun just beginning its rise over the ocean. Many of the merchants were awake and opening shops. Their mindless chatter about the weather nothing interesting to Snow.

She quickly made her way past all of the merchants and the shops toward the middle of town where all of the churches were. She knew The Temple was in the very center, bigger then any other church in town and more then half of the city came there at least once a week.

Snow was as acquainted with the church as any, more than most, less then the priests who lived there. She had been working with the church for years now and sometimes it seemed as if she always had. Any time they needed something recovered she was the one they called upon.

Sure the High Priest was always trying to convert her to follow God. But she could over look that as long as he kept paying her twice her normal amount for a job. As she turned a corner Snow looked up just in time to stop in her tracks, her breathe coming to a halt as well.

The sun had reached high enough by that time that it was now caressing the icy spires of The Temple, a beautiful sight to behold. The spires rose into the air higher then even the castles dome. Such a blue was The Temple as to make the sky envious. But the sun made it glitter and sparkle as if it were made of ice and should melt at any moment.

The moment passed as the sun shifted just a sliver more, the spires still glittered but Snow's breath came rushing back to her. She shook her head and smiled and hurried on her way. As she reached the bottom steps of The Temple the doors opened slowly and an acolyte came out to usher her inside.

It was a small boy of about nine years old. Snow could smell his fear of her it was so thick in the air. She was half tempted to take a small jump toward him to see what would happen. But then she thought better of it and just brushed past him. She knew where Jarek's audience chamber was.

No one stopped her or questioned her, all the priests just went about their own tasks and the boy fell further behind not really interested in being around her anyway. Snow made her way deep into The Temple and stopped at some strange metal doors that were a deep shade of purple.

Not bothering to knock, for she heard only one person breathing on the other side of the door she began opening them. The doors were very heavy but a little extra muscle and she had them open and slipped inside, closing them behind her.

The smell of Jarek, old musty books and earth was prominent in the room. She had only glanced around the room but already knew he was sitting at a desk in the left corner of the room writing. He was forever writing in a big blue tome.

"Snow."

His voice sounded like a gentle father speaking to his favorite child.

"It truly has been too long my dear."

She looked up and couldn't help smiling at him. Jarek was a middle aged man, of maybe forty seven. He had salt and pepper hair that was cropped short around his face and the back of his neck. Laugh lines around his eyes and mouth made him seem more likable at first sight.

His strangely deep blue eyes were staring at Snow, as if boring into her very soul. His long nose and high cheek bones spoke of an aristocratic upbringing. He wore the customary ice blue robes of The Temple along with an under robe of purple.

"Jarek. I am always smiling when I see you."

Jarek smiled and motioned for her to come more fully into his office.

"Why must you always stand at the door as if I will shoo you out?"

He laughed and stood up to motion to a chair across from his oak desk.

Snow walked over and sat in the chair, throwing a leg over one of the arms and slouching low into the comfortable chair, making herself at home. He knew this was her favorite chair and had probably put it there for her to do just what she was doing now.

"Now what is going on? I get an urgent note with no explanation but to meet you here at dawn. I had a lucrative deal that was going to happen this night and I decided to forgo it and come to you instead."


"Now, now Snow you know that I don't jump right into our business. It is distressing times, but a little comfort and chat with a friend won't hurt will it?"

Jarek sat back down, his elbows on his desk and his chin going into the palms off his hands. Snow tilted her head in acquiescence.

"I never find it troubling when we talk Jarek."

A smile crept onto her face and Snow languidly tilted her face toward the light coming in through his window, closing her eyes.

"Well, first things first, you should really go ahead and get comfortable Snow, I never mind and I think I like seeing you better in your natural likeness."

Jarek blinked at Snow and she could not catch a trace of sarcasm or nervousness in him. But that was just like him. He meant what he said...most of the time.

"Fine."

Her eyes opened and were no longer truly human looking, her pupils were now slit down the middle like a cat.

"If I change,"

Her skin slowly took on more and more of a white-tan fur as she spoke,

"will you finally start to talk,"

her face subtly shifted further from a human visage and closer to a lions, but stopped somewhere in-between.

"about business?"

When she finished her sentence she was a creature somewhere between lion and human. A bit bigger and more muscular as well as taller and with a tail that slowly went right to left.

Jarek didn't react at all except to smile wider then before.

"Alright Snow. I will humor you and get down to business now."

She shifted and sat back in his chair, her hands resting on the arm rests.

"The Temple needs you to go to Algone; it is a city on the plane of existence next to our own. There we need you to find Namith, a High Priest of The Temple. He will give you a way to a long lost Temple. And once there I need you to recover a gem for me. You will know it by its bright ice blue glow and its hundred facets. You must not touch the gem Snow. I will give you a bag to get it into and then you must go back to Namith and return the gem to me. Standard price, plus a bonus when you return. Fair?"

It was as if Jarek didn't need to breathe, though he did not hurry through his speech but said everything precisely. Snow listened intently to not only the words but also his breathing. He was excited about the gem. Very excited about finding it, it must be special.

"Yes. It sounds fair to me."

"I trust you have already memorized what I said to you. See, there is a reason I like you to be in your given form when we speak, you remember more of what we talk about my dear, and I think you look better myself."



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Part # 2

It had been agreed upon that Snow would leave just as soon as she got all the supplies that she thought she might need. A quick trip to the marketplace took care of that and before most people were up for breakfast Snow was ready to be on her way back to the Temple. She knew the moment she stepped from the store that someone was watching her. It was a professional, to be sure.

One with the shadows, no untrained human would have known. The person was silent as death and quick like a snake striking. But there was no malice in the person's body language. Snow's nostrils flared as she took a deep breath to get the person's scent. She had not encountered this person before, though atop his scent was one she knew well.

With a smile she walked down the street pretending not to know that someone was following her. A new haversack slung over her left shoulder filled with provisions. She didn't go straight to the Temple, but instead she started off toward the slums. The person soon disappeared from behind her, but she knew he wasn't gone.

He had simply gone on ahead of her to where he knew she was heading. The slums were as she remembered them. There were small shacks for homes, leaning, and threatening to fall in on themselves. Old giant warehouses, most no longer suitable to hold merchants wares. Now most were filled with junk and riff raff. Except a couple which the thieves guild used to store their things, or as bases.

It was to just such a place she was heading for she knew the light scent on top of the one who had been following her belonged to the leader of the thieves' guild. His scent was burned into her memory along with the taste of his sweat and blood.

'What could he want?'

She thought to herself, for surely that could be the only reason he had to send someone for her. He wanted something. They had not spoken for years, not after the big fight that had lost him her. The dregs of society passed far away from her as they all knew where she was going and wanted nothing to do with her. Some people went as far as to go across the street to walk instead of being near her.

She turned a corner and before her was the old warehouse she was looking for. The man that had been following her was maybe ten strides from her, leaning against the building. She smiled at him, but no joy or malice showed in it. He was around six foot two inches tall, a muscled body that weighted around one hundred eighty eight pounds.

He wore black, boots, pants, shirt and cloak. The hood of the cloak was up, hiding his hair and facial features. He played with a bit of string as if it were a fascinating game. It twined around his long slender fingers making some design or another.

There were three bums on the street, other than the two of them. Snow walked on, not slowing down but moving over so she didn't bump into him. As she came up to him, he slipped the string off his graceful fingers and into an inner pocket. Then he fell into step beside her up to the building.

The silence between them was not uncomfortable. He put off no aggressive vibes at all. And he kept his hands to himself. As she reached the doorway she came to a stop and moved out of his way.

He walked right up to the door, and just opened it. He moved out of the way, still holding the door open for her. She walked in without a backward glance, she didn't need anyone to tell her where to go or show her the way. This place was like a childhood home for her.

The inside of the warehouse was nothing like the outside made it seem. It was clean and brightly lit. The outer walls were wood but everything inside was stone, the ceiling, walls, and floor. Tasteful tapestries hung all along the front hall. Fine elven wooden side tables ran the length of the hall to her left.

The man lengthened his stride so he could catch up to her but then he kept pace. His left hand rose in front of him, chest high. His fingers flicked in the ancient language of thieves. He seemed to have a Mongroil accent to his finger movements, making them flow longer on the vowels. Mongroil was a country a long way to the south. Interesting.

The Library.

Snow barely dipped her chin to let him know she understood. They progressed through the maze-like hallways and then up an open staircase. At the top of the staircase on the wall was a towering portrait. Snow stopped before it, the man had to adjust and take two steps back to her side. She knew he was looking back and forth between her and the portrait. When he looked up at the portrait his hood fell back.

His curly, long black hair was braided back and then coiled and clipped to the back of his head with a silver clasp. His triple pierced ears were slightly pointed, showing he had Elven blood somewhere in his ancestry. His features were not as sharp as an Elf but were quite fine, high cheekbones, slightly almond shaped silver eyes, a mouth with fuller lips than an Elf's. His right eyebrow arched as he looked from the portrait to her.

Snow slowly exhaled a deep breath. The portrait brought back many memories. Standing smiling down at her from the canvas was the man she once called Father. He was forty five when this portrait was made, his hair salt and pepper. His green eyes crinkled from smiling above his crooked grin. His mischievous aura was caught in the painting. He wore the standard thief gear of black leather, but with a forest green shirt beneath the leather vest. He stood behind a chair, his left hand resting on its back. A young man was standing on the other side of the chair, mirroring him. Like a double, that was twenty one years younger. Black hair, crooked smile, and green eyes that held secrets. In the chair sitting on the edge of the seat leaning slightly forward, her hands resting on the tips of the armrests as if she was about to stand was a nineteen year old Snow.

Her smile was like a dare. Her icy eyes half lidded. Her curly auburn hair massed around her face and tumbling around her shoulders like a mane. She was the only one in the portrait that did not wear the black leather thief gear. A many tiered necklace that looked like a spiders web of emeralds graced her neck. No under shirt, just a bodice of black cloth strips wrapped around her upper chest, covering her breasts and rib cage but leaving her mid drift and muscular arms bare. Black leather throwing knife sheaths wrapped around her wrists and forearms. The body hugging pants she wore were made of supple, iridescent green-black dragon hide, and her knee high boots had many buckles.

Snow's nostrils flared as she smelled the man next to her, he was interested but not overly so. As if he knew that she knew he smiled at her. He had a great smile. She didn't respond and as if to say 'aw well, maybe some other time' he turned his body slightly to the right as if ready to go. Snow kept looking at the portrait for a moment more, glancing at the ring of greenish metal on the left ring finger of her nineteen year old self that matched the one on the young man beside her before turning her own body in the direction they had to go.

She then noticed the man next to her had his hood down and openly looked at him. He looked back at her and for three moments they measured each other before both moving at the same time to continue down the hall. His movements were graceful and wasted no energy. His presence here, so far from Mongroil, piqued her interest.

They soon reached a set of large wooden double doors. He stepped up and opened the door for her once again. This time he left less room between himself and her, as she moved through the door, she brushed against his clothes and he smiled and took in a breath of the spicy carnation-like scent of her shampoo. He stepped into the giant library behind her and closed the door. She had stopped a step inside so he was almost touching her haversack as he stood with his back to the door.

The smell of old books and the polish used on the wooden desks filled the room. As did the smell of the man behind her, and the one before her. A man stood beside a huge wooden table, leaning over reading a huge tome. He had his right hand resting on the table, holding the weight of his upper body. His left hand, still wearing the greenish medal ring was holding a page of the tome.

As she took another five steps into the room, still twenty away from him, he righted himself and turned towards her. It had been five years since she had seen him. He looked the exact same, except the triple set of scars running from just beneath his left ear along his jaw to his chin. They had not been scars but freshly made by herself at that time. His body language was loose, yet slightly wary. He did not have an emotion to his scent, but continued to look cautious. She kept a tight control over her own muscles, her body wanted to coil and spring at him with suppressed wrath, but it was more rote than anything because she didn't actually feel the emotion.

She decided not to be the one to speak first. She just looked at him, giving her best blank face. He was quiet as well, the only thing betraying that he was feeling anything was a slight tightening of his jaw, and barely perceptible squinting of his gorgeous green eyes. She assumed that he had some magic item that blocked the smell of his emotions but not his overall self, for that matter the man behind her just activated the same sort of magic on himself.

"For all that shines golden,"

The man behind her spoke the curse with a musical, lilting quality to his speech and a Mongroil accent. His voice was low and distinctly masculine.

"stop being stubborn man!"

He walked past her on her right, brushing against her even though he could have walked around her as to draw the attention of herself and the other man in the room. He stopped an even distance from both of them, but not directly between them. His arms came up and out to both sides of him, flaring his cloak out for a moment. His palms were facing up and he had an exasperated look on his handsome face.

Snow waited in silence for Him to speak. A moment more went by before he did so.

"I hear you go by Snow now."

His voice started as light as a whisper and grew in strength until it was a normal speaking voice. His husky voice pulled at memories in her belly, feeling like warmth and soft as fur. Her response was to nod slightly. His eyes closed for seconds longer than a normal blink.

"This is Vandel Galaendion from the Mongroilian Guild house of Kilithlal. He has been here on and off for four years."

The half elf Vandel gave Snow a flamboyantly sweeping bow. The smile on his face when he looked back up at her was as daring as her smile from the portrait.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Vandel Galaendion from the Mongroilian Guild house of Kilithlal."

Snow replied in flawless Mongroilian accented to be from the capitol city of Kilithlal. She gave him a small smile as his silver eyes seemed to slightly widen and he looked truly happy. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted.

"Snow, I..."

And then she smelled faint emotions that must have been very strong to overcome the magic item. Sadness, regret, pain and love. Her head snapped up and her eyes went from Vandel to the man talking in less than a heartbeat.

"You what Tokala?"

Her voice had a fierce, jagged edge to it. Vandel took an involuntary step back. Tokala closed his eyes and took a deep, pain filled breath.

"This is not going as I planned my Aria."

The pet name he had always called her made blood sing through her and she wasn't sure if it was a good or bad feeling. His left hand was half raised toward her, the greenish ring glinting in the sunlight from the window behind him but he let it fall back to his side. She shook her head vehemently.

"Do not call me that. You have lost that right Tokala. What is it exactly that you want. I have things to do."

She half turned back toward the door but stopped and waited for his response. Tokala nodded and swallowed whatever words he was going to say and instead got right to business.

"I have been informed that you are not long for this plane, you are going to another. Ari.. Snow, the place that blasted Temple is sending you to is dangerous. I know that will not stop you, and I know that you can take care of yourself."

He held a hand up when he saw her open her mouth and then continued.

"I have business in Algone, a city on the plane you're going to..."

This time she did interrupt.

"I will NOT travel with you, I will NOT make myself sleep with one eye open Tokala."

Snow turned to the door and started for it.

"Aww, but it is not Tokala that actually has business in Algone."

Vandel spoke quickly in Mongroilian as he rushed to follow her. He put a hand up behind him to tell Tokala to stay where he was and not speak. Tokala had an annoyed look on his face, for the gesture and the the change in language for he did not speak Mongroilian.

"Do not touch me if you wish to keep your arm Vandel."

Snow stopped and spoke with a deadly soft voice in his language as he was reaching for her. He dropped his arm and rushed on with his words.

"Please listen to me Snow. I know that you and Kal don't... get along. That has nothing to do with me. I only came to him to find passage to Algone. My Guild House is the one who has business there. It is a matter of honor, and life or death for us. I must find passage. He knew that the Temple was sending someone, but only found out it was you this morning. It would not be him that you were helping but me."

Snow took a few moments to think about it. Kal's information about the plane she was going to would be correct. It would be dangerous. Another body would be good if a fight happened. She had been out of the Guild for five years but knew that Vandel was not Kal's. She would still have to sleep with one eye open but having the heir, and Vandel was the heir, of Mongroilian's Thieves Guild house of Kilithlal owe her a favor was no small thing. She turned slowly toward Vandel, his body blocked Kal's view of her. She brought her right hand up to her chest height and spoke the ancient language of thieves with her fingers while speaking out loud in the common tongue as well.

"Well, if that is the case... I may consider your offer."
Vandel, heir of Mongroilian's Guild house of Kilithlal, owing me a favor will be no small thing you know

Vandel watched her fingers as he responded verbally and non verbally.

"I hope you do. How long do you need to decide?"
I am aware. I am willing to owe such a favor for this

"I am leaving at dusk. I will know my own mind by lunch."
I will meet you at Boarshead tavern at ten. We leave before noon

"Lunch. Okay, I will meet you to hear your decision. Where?"
I will be there in time

"Southern Wind Lodge."

With that Snow looked pointedly over Vandels shoulder at Kal.

Do not be late. Do not have a tail



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Part # 3


The Festival of Branthius was the biggest and longest running festival in the kingdom of Cryus. Despite that it was not held in the capitol of Algone, after all it was the festival of the God of the Harvest. The fields that once held the harvest were the fairgrounds. As far as the eye could see it was a sea of tents, activities, games and most of all people. The festival was held from three weeks after the harvest until the first snow.

Riordan had been here for three days. As dusk started to truly settle on the grounds he came to the end of his song. Slowly he removed the bow from the strings of his fiddle and opened his eyes to look around. A few coins were thrown into his fiddle case to clink against the ones already covering the bottom of it.

The crowd of people around him applauded and began to disperse after seeing he wasn't immediately going to play again. A group of Algonian knights were marching down the way and Riordan sighed as he touched the busking permit he had pinned to his huge floppy hat with the hand still holding his bow. Time to go find something to eat, and maybe a place to stay tonight. He bent over and gathered the coins, putting them into a purse and then putting his fiddle carefully away.

When he was finished only one person remained of the crowd that had formed around him. She was maybe seventeen, still in the blush of youth. She stood five foot three inches with the help of her two inch heeled boots. Her gown was made of sheer spider silk tinted a golden color, dark enough around the chest and around her hips to her knees so those parts were not sheer. Her blue black hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulders down to her waist, her long pointed ears peeking through the cascade. Her green skin had yellow highlights, or rather the fine scales all over her body for she was one of the pure-blood snake people from the south. She stared with her green-gold vertically slit eyes. An amazing stillness surrounded her in the middle of the bustling fair.

Riordan smiled as he stood, fiddle case in hand. He walked the three steps that separated them, noting that she was quite beautiful. She did not shy away but waited for him to come to her. Then, when she had to look up to see his face, for he was six foot three inches tall he stopped. A foot or so was between them.

"Lady. I hope you enjoyed the music."

His voice was soothing and musical and maybe had a little bit of loneliness or wistfulness in it. Her voice had a surprisingly quite but sonorous quality when she replied in poem.

"Your sssong belong here
In the depthsss of my sssoul
Nesssting in my heart."

"Davisssh Little isn't it?"

She nodded to show that he got the author correct. A slight darkening of her cheeks showed her blushing.

"It isss my firssst time at thisss Branthiusss fair."

Her right hand flicked about to encompass the fair around her. He nodded at her and turned slightly to his left to begin walking that way.

"Do you find that you like it here?"

She walked after him to continue their conversation.

"I do now that I have heard the voice of your violin."

The sound of 'voice' from her mouth was more like 'voissse'. He grinned, though she couldn't see it. He didn't know what she wanted but he was willing enough to listen for now.

"I love the fair. It is a good place to be for a while."

"Do you alwaysss find yourssself here for it?"

"Mmm... at some point during it I usually find myself here yes."

"I wasss told that it can get very cold thisss far north."

"Not as cold as some places but yes it can be."

She was quiet for several moments and he thought maybe she had run out of things to say. Or that maybe she would get the hint and find somewhere else to go, but she continued to follow him. He stopped outside of a very large tent that was filled with laughter and loud voices. The sign next to the open tent flap was a tankard overflowing. Riordan slowly turned to face her, the light from inside the tent put his face even farther in shadow beneath the brim of his hat. It was a dingy grey hat with three patches, one maroon, one forest green and the last a sky blue. His vast cloak once matched the grey hat, but now it was covered in so many patches of varying colors it was more patches then grey. The collar of the cloak went up all the way to the brim of his hat so that together they almost made a hood, and the hem was dragging the dirt path.

She stopped in front of him and looked up into the darkness where his face was. They both stood very still for a while before she breathed out, her small forked tongue tasting the air.

"It may be rude of me to asssk..."

Riordan sighed.

"But, what are you?"

When she finished speaking she stood with her peculiar stillness. Riordan didn't speak at first, then as he turned to go inside the tent tavern his grassy green eyes seemed to crackle with a grassy green glow for a moment before he replied.

"A bard."



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Part # 4



The roar of seventy thousand throats vibrates off the stone walls of the Gregordian Colosseum. The arena floor is two hundred seventy two feet by one hundred fifty seven feet. It comprises a wooden floor covered by sand, covering an elaborate underground structure called the Combs (named after catacombs). The Combs consist of a two-level subterranean network of tunnels and cages beneath the arena where gladiators and animals are held before contests begin. Eighty vertical shafts provide instant access to the arena for caged animals and scenery pieces concealed underneath; larger hinged platforms, called Tups, provide access for elephants and the like. Today it was decorated like a maze with open areas for fighting. One hundred contestants were entered to try and win the competition. They were added five at a time in random parts of the maze. The last one living would be the winner of fame, glory, honor and the three magic items on display next to the Emperor.

The first magic item was a black ring shaped like a cat. It is said to give the wearer a cats stealth. The second magic item is the Cloak of Lesser Wyvern. This heavy cloak is made of blue scaled leather. It is said to provide the wearer with more willpower and a continuous feather fall effect. The final magic item is actually one of two things. A mage's grimoire or a double enchantment added to your own weapon.

Kahlilah Mujahida Bloodraging Direlock, Heir of the Thousand Mujahida Elven Hordes of the Windswept Sands stood on a vertical shaft awaiting her turn to rise up into the maze. She had entered the contest under a far more simple name, Lilah Hida. Lilah's eyes were closed, a smile stretched her heart shaped lips. She listened to the voices above her as well as to those around her.

She stood five foot six inches and weighted no more than one hundred twenty five pounds. She wore metal boots and greaves fashioned out of a sand dune colored metal made to look like dragon hide. Her pants, or more aptly chaps were made from the hide of a sand dragon and really only covered the outsides of her legs and the insides of her thighs. The open spaces along the front and back of her legs had crisscrossed straps to keep the outside parts in place. A loincloth made of the same dragon hide wrapped around her waist hung ragged in front and back to mid-thigh.

A matching set of the sand dune metal armor covered her forearms and sand dragon hide gloves on her hands. Her top looked painted on, the sand dragon hide only covered her sides, upper back, shoulders and breasts. More of the sand dune colored metal armored her shoulders, snarling dragon faces on her outer shoulders the spiked ridges around their faces raised up atop her shoulders. She wore no helm but had a headdress that looked like the spiked horns of the sand dragon.

Her coppery-sand colored hair was pulled back in a loose braid to mid-back. Overall her armor was intricately inlaid and festooned with charms and trinkets, like small animal skulls and beads. Her copper tanned skin was covered in barely perceptible tribal tattoos, even her beautiful elven face. There was a strong scent of dragons blood incense on and around her. A weapon much like a spiked chain cat o nine tails hung on her right hip. On her left hip hung an intimidating lucerne hammer. A palpable aura of dread emanates from her person as she opens her two-toned eyes, the left is coppery orange the right a sandy tan.

A slight rumble and a trembling in the stone beneath her feet heralds her rise into the maze. A slight rain of sand falls about Lilah and her heart starts beating faster in anticipation. Her thoughts swirl and out of them a familiar voice speaks to her, separate but within her mind. For generation upon generation members of her family shared their minds with a being of pure thought, he spoke to her now.

'So we really are doing this then. Okay, I suppose I am willing to help.'

His mind voice didn't sound resigned but rather like he was also anticipating the battle ahead. He knows he didn't fool her anyway.

'Yes love, we go to battle. Let us dance one of the oldest dances that exist.'

Her mind voice spoke back to him with excitement.

The platform raised her into the stadium. The brightness was sudden but didn't overpower her for more than a heartbeat. With her right hand she pulled the whip from her side and held it ready. With her left hand she pulled the hammer, meant to be wielded two handed but which she had trained to wield with only one. The roar of the crowd grew louder around her as the platform stopped. She looked quickly about her for opponents, she found one to her left and spun that way, raising her hammer.

The person before her faltered for only a moment as she got within ten feet of him. Then the voice within her laughed and sent out his murderous intent in a wave from her, hitting the man with thoughts of such pure violence it made him bleed from his nose. Her opponent dropped his sword, his eyes going wide and his mouth opening to scream. Her hammer hit him on his right ear silencing him forever.



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Part # 5



Snow sat at the bar she had been at maybe three hours before. Had it been such a short time? Her mind seemed to boil with all the emotions and thoughts swirling in it. Kal. She had seen him again, the first time since their bloody and very visceral break.

The past flooded her mind and she was drowning in the sea of her thoughts. Images were forcing themselves upon her as she absently drank her uncharacteristic rum. The barkeep was keeping a steady eye on her, covertly, because she had actually ordered alcohol. She seemed to just be in idle thought and sipping her drink as her thoughts caught fire.

She was to be the backup at a meet with a rival Guild house. She had been under the impression from her
betrothed, Kal, that she would not really be needed. She had decided to keep her mourning black attire that night. Kal's father, the man who had basically raised her had died only two weeks before. They were far in the northern waste lands and the night concealed her like she was born of it.

She was early to her destination. A fact that contributed to the bloodshed that would happen shortly after her arrival.
Kal had been speaking with the rival house, they were supposed to be speaking about a contraband shipment that would reach the docks of Ryjeed, the capital where their own Guild reigned. Instead she overheard him speaking of his father's death, and apparently it had been a planned one on his part.

She had actually gasped. No one but Kal had heard her involuntary intake of breath, but that had made his head jerk up. She had known then that she had only a few moments before it dawned on the others that he had heard something. She was out numbered twelve to one, for she no longer counted her betrothed with her, but her rage overcame her.

In a burst of fury she moved, almost before she was even aware that her body was in motion she had begun the changing of her shape. The first three people she encountered had no idea she was there even as they took their last breath. The fourth and fifth had enough time to get their hands on their weapons, but died very bloody deaths as her claws sliced through them with a very, very satisfactory feeling.

Kal had moved almost at the same moment she had and had made several yards distance from her. He was speaking, but his voice seemed not to make it past the rhythmic beating of drums, or maybe that was her heartbeat. She swiped her claws at the man to her right, cleaving his neck from his shoulders. The woman on her left danced out of her reach by a mere centimeter, and cut out with her short sword, slashing a white hotness onto the felines left shoulder.

The lioness didn't falter but jumped onto the woman and bit into her face, tearing it off and killing her. Three successive blows came, on her right shoulder, then just beneath her right shoulder blade and finally on her lower back two inches from her spine. The arrows stayed in her body as she whirled around and roared her fury.

There was only one archer, and he dropped his bow and ran. This added a bit to her fury fueled madness, for only prey runs. She opened her jaws to show her bloody razor sharp teeth and sprinted after him. She could just barely hear screaming around her. She could only smell fear, death, and raw meat.

Just before she reached the pissing archer she was struck with such blunt force as to feel as though it broke two of her ribs. A large furred body had slammed into her and was now dancing lithely away before she could swipe at it.
She turned her attention away from the archer to this new foe. It was Kal in his natural form.

She was a beautiful and fierce lion, he was a sly, clever fox. He was faster than she, but she was stronger. He was the reason his father was dead. That thought hurt so badly she was momentarily struck motionless. He took full advantage and came at her with all the speed he could muster.

He wove bands of silk around her arms and pulled them close so that her arms were trapped against her. He was speaking to her but all she could do was snarl at him. No one else was in her world anymore, just the two of them. The edges of her vision started to turn a scarlet so vibrant she took another sharp breath.

He must of thought it was in reply to what he said because his grip loosened slightly on the ropes. He was not aware that she also let all the tenseness out of her body and then let all of Hell flow forth from her as her vision completely turned she ripped the silk with a thunderous tearing sound and then her vision was only scarlet.

When she came to her senses the archer had apparently found another bow for she had three more arrows in her. One above her right knee, one in her right thigh, and the last in her left side. Kal was in his human form again, holding her against his chest, his rapier in his left hand, thwarting a thrust from two separate blades that were aimed at her. What she believed to be three more bodies were on the ground around Kal and herself. Two of which had claw marks, the last a sword wound to the throat.

Her mind told her between heartbeats that there was only four people left before she could truly give her body rest. There was a fierce howling wind and a bitter cold front was quickly rolling in. A blizzard would soon be upon them. Kal adjusted his grip on her as he noticed she was waking. He let a moment pass where his handsome green eyes met her icy grey ones. Then in a flash of muscle memory their bodies worked as one, one last time.

His arm let her fall, and she rolled away from him and behind the two swordsmen, faster than they could adjust. She was behind them and on her feet before they could react. Her right claws sank heavily into the body on that side of her. She closed her right hand around the swordsman's left kidney then yanked it out of his back with such a force that her body twirled around in a circle. The swordsman on her left had enough time to turn toward her but as she faced him a familiar rapier erupted out of his throat.

That left the archer and the man before her. The archer decided that it was time to go as fast as he possibly could. Her fury had settled enough that she let him run. Her eyes where only for the man before her. Kal pulled his rapier from the dead body and it slumped to the ground. Other than the running archer there was no sound. She could hear the snow falling, then Kal's heavy breathing. She could taste death in her mouth and smell Kal's sorrow.

Tears formed in his eyes as he finally comprehended. She could no longer keep the disgust from her animalistic face and a small snarl escaped her. Kal's breath hitched in his chest with the weight of his true emotion.

"I love you."

His words came as she burst into motion. Her right claws searching for his throat, swerving at the last moment and racking from below his ear across his lower jaw to within a breath of his lips.

"As I did you."

The sound of her own voice so ragged startled her. She tore her gaze from his and spun away from him. She tore the arrows from her body as she walked as steadily as she could away from Kal and into the coming blizzard. She heard him call after her but would not turn around.

"My Aria!!!"

Her thoughts of what happened five years ago drifted like smoke before her eyes as the door to the bar opened and Vandel entered. The bar only had a few people in it other than herself and the barkeep - whom never seemed to sleep. Everyone noticed his entrance. He had his hood down so his exquisitely handsome features were on display. The three males at the back of the room mostly dismissed him as a fop. The one whore left in the bar perked up, sitting up quickly and taking great care to make sure she seemed especially buxom.

He took only two heartbeats to find her eyes with his own silver ones. She smiled a crooked smile at him and he slowly walked three more steps into the bar while looking at her. Her hand on the table twitched toward the bar and he turned to it, following her gesture. The barkeep raised an eyebrow as he saw her grin.

Vandel walked to the bar and spoke with the barkeep. They had a somewhat long conversation, Vandel gesturing widely as he spoke, but low enough no one but the barkeep and herself could hear.

"Whom is that gorgeous creature over there?"

The barkeep kept a accommodatingly low voice as he replied.

"That is Snow. Do not even try to go there sire."

He chuckled low.

"There is a small fortune awaiting the man, or woman, who can. Your chances are not great though."

Vandel tilted his head and stepped so that his body was between Snow and the barkeep, but she heard the jingle of coin as he pulled out a small fortune of a purse,

"Two glasses of whatever the Lady is having if you would please good sir."

He got the two glasses of rum and left the purse, full of his gold on the bar as he turned and walked toward her. The barkeep quickly took the gold to add to his growing pot. A small, knowing smile was on Vandel's face as he walked toward Snow. He sat one of the glasses in front of her, now everyone was trying not to look like they were watching him.

Snow gave him her customary smile and shook her head no. Vandel did not take that at face value though, and pulled a chair out and sat across from her.

He began speaking to her in the common tongue but switched to his own in the middle of his sentence.

"I could not help but see how the sun is sitting here, of all places, so.."
"Do you want a half of this pot or no?"

Snow nodded so slightly that everyone seemed to miss it but him. She spoke quietly, but loud enough everyone might strain to hear.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Vandel grinned and leaned in, which she did as well. He took advantage of her being so close, breathing in the spicy scent of her for the second time. His breath was on her ear as he spoke in his language yet again.

"Let us go upstairs for a bit and speak of the reason I am here, yes?"

Snow let a slow smile creep up her face and nodded as she leaned back from him. She downed her drink and picked up the one he had brought to the table.

"That sounds very daring."

She played with the glass for a moment. Vandel grinned at her as he also leaned back. He took a long slow drink, looking her in the eye the entire time.

"I have been told I am a daring soul, when faced with such fierce and deadly beauty as yours."

Snow couldn't help the small chuckle that left her lips.

"Aw, see now, you are mocking me. I am deadly serious."

His voice took on a very masculine and very husky quality as he spoke. The sort of intimate tone of voice one uses when talking two inches from your lovers lips.

Snow almost lost it. She checked her grin before it could spread past her eyes. Vandel saw it though, and grinned lasciviously. She took a long slow drink of the rum he bought her, looking him in the eye the entire time. That was actually farther than any other person had gotten with her, she had accepted his drink.

"Are you? Deadly?"

Her voice was a rumbling purr, so soft and yet jagged. Her eyes turned to icy grey slits as they took him in. He let her drink in his image for a moment before he grinned again and tilted his head slightly.

"Very. I am everything I say I am and more."

He gestured with his right hand as he took his own rum in his left. He slowly licked his lips as he brought it to them. The whore in the corner of the room actually sighed. He took a slight sip, but made it look somehow like he was partaking of Snow herself. Snow's eyes slightly took on a wide surprised look. Vandel had a satisfied smirk on his face as he lowered his glass.

Snow, ready to be done with this farce and on to speaking of their terms leaned forward again, leveraging her cleavage to best advantage. Vandel couldn't help the slight intake of breath as his eyes looked exactly where she wanted him to.

"We shall see."

Her voice was literally the only sound other than the heartbeats in the room. Everyone was holding their breath.

"Yes, I believe we will."

Vandel and Snow, as one downed their drinks and stood. Everyone stopped moving and openly watched as the two walked up the stairs. The barkeep's eyes nearly popped right out of his head.

"Uh... third on the right."

The barkeep's voice, usually gruff was slightly breathless as he watched them both go up the stairs. Snow was moving deliberately slow and enticing. Vandel trailing her almost touching her back with his chest, they moved in sync.

At the top of the stairs, where everyone could still see them Snow stopped abruptly. Vandel took it in stride and opened his arms. Snow turned and melted into his arms and it was as if they became one as her mouth reached his. They kissed and it was like a fire started from their breath intermingling. Their lips seemed to devour each other and his arms wrapped tighter around her, involuntarily. He slipped his hands from her back down to her sides, from there to her hips, pulling her more firmly into him. She stopped their kiss long enough to bite his lower lip softly. She heard a satisfactory grunt from him.

He grabbed her ass, picking her up by it. Her lithely long legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her into the room. They didn't drop the farce until they were in the room together with the door shut behind them. Then Snow stopped suddenly, Vandel leaning in again actually stopping himself only a hairsbreadth from her lips. He stood very still, regulating his breathing. His heartbeat was elevated and he was holding himself unnaturally still. She had undeniable evidence that he wanted her pressing into her. And a slow ache filled her. She had not been with someone for five years.

He saw it the moment the battle was over in her eyes and he kissed her again.



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Part # 6

The Lady's Favored Basssilisssk watched as the self proclaimed bard turned and went into the tent tavern. She did not miss the glowing grassy green eyes. A shiver ran down her spine and her aura seemed to wash toward his direction for a moment before crashing back to where it was supposed to be. She looked up into the beginning of the night sky, knowing full well she was expected elsewhere as she had ditched her bodyguards and then quickly followed him into the tent.

As she entered the chaos of the tent tavern she was momentarily overcome with all the noise and motion, then she saw the patch-worked cloak heading toward the far side of the tent and hurried to follow. A very large man sat at a wooden table on a wooden bench, his voice supremely loud as he told his friends a story. His arm swung back quickly and she watched as the bard seemingly unaware ducked to pick something up off the floor.

He straightened after the mans arm went back down onto his table. She hurried to him and saw that he had bent to pick up what appeared to be a child's clear marble. He seemed to look at it for a moment and sighed as he put it in a pocket. She wondered for a moment how he had even seen the marble but then he turned to her so quickly her whole body stilled.

He reached out with a hand and pulled her quickly to his chest. His hand was cold, and his body seemed chilled as well. She didn't know what was going on until she heard the cold voice behind her.

"What the hell."

She turned her head so she could see the man who had spoken. He was about an inch or two shorter than herself and wore leather armor. He had large muscles and a well fed python slung over his shoulders that stared at her.

'Lady's Favored, why are you here?'

The python's tongue flicked out, tasting everyone's scent.

Her eyes narrowed at the python and she looked at the man again as he spoke.

"I meant no wrong. I just wanted to ask the Lady a question."

"Mmm then maybe you should have simply asked and not just reached out to grab her."

The bard's iron grip on her lessened and his hand slipped away from her body, taking it's coolness with it. She pulled only a few inches away from him and spoke in her native tongue. To everyone else it would sound like hissing.

"I am here on Her business, only a slight detour."

The two men looked at each other warily a moment.

"I ken you. I only wanted to let her know this is no place for her to be alone."

The short man shuffled his feet slightly as he spoke.

"As you can see she is not alone."

The bard made it sound as if he was bored but at the same time his body seemed to move even closer to her.

'Ah, I am sure you do the Lady proud, but should you not be on your way? The Lady's enemies are about.'

The python's head raised slightly as it hissed back at her.

"I thank you for the fair warning but I have been Called. There is another here to take my place at the meeting. I believe I am to go with this one for a time."

The bard tilted his head toward her and for a moment she suspected he understood her, then he spoke to the man again and she lost her suspicion.

"We will be on our way. I bid you a goodnight good Druid."

The short man looked to the python who seemed to nod at him and then turned to leave. As soon as the crowd swallowed the
Druid Basssilisssk tasted the air and noticed a disconcerting amount of tension leaving the bard.

"I quite dislike druids."

The bard spoke under his breath but because she was so close she heard him.

"I thank you Sssir. My name isss Basssilisssk. You may call me Lisssk."

He brought his attention back to her. He seemed to stare at her a moment before deciding to answer.

"I am known as Riordan."

He turned and continued walking toward the bar at the far end of the tent. She stayed still for a moment. His name brought a slithering memory close to her consciousness but it was gone before she could comprehend it. She followed him again, this time with more awareness of the people around her.


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Riordan watched as the Druid walked not only away but out of the tent. His skin tingled from the confrontation that could have turned deadly for him very quickly. It had had to be a fucking Druid.

"I quite dislike Druids."

His thought went verbally from him with his breath as he watched the druids back disappear into the night. A slight movement from the Lady's Favored, as he had overheard her called, drew his attention but he wanted to make sure the druid had truly left so continued to watch the door.

"I thank you Sssir. My name isss Basssilisssk. You may call me Lisssk."

He brought his attention fully to Lisssk. He fully intended to tell her a lie for his name but as he opened his mouth the truth spilled forth.

"I am known as Riordan."

So surprised by this he was that he abruptly turned from her and headed toward the bar. His one hand still clutching the clear marble in his pocket. It had obviously been a sign, but he did not think it was a sign of her but of something else.

When he reached the bar there was a dwarven female standing on a raised step behind it, she looked at him. He inclined his head slightly in greeting and then Lisssk joined him on his right,

"A tankard of the dark stuff and whatever the lady wants."

He pulled two silver coins from his purse and tossed them on the bar. The barkeep looked at Lisssk for a moment before Lisssk answered her.

"Do you have Nightsshhade wine?"

Lissk's voice was hopeful but at the same time doubtful. The barkeep shook her head no. Lisssk sighed and then replied.

"Berry Beer."

This for whatever reason made Riordan smile. The barkeep quickly filled two tankards, one a black liquid, one a red and sat them down while simultaneously taking the two coins. Then wandered off to take someone else's order.

"I wasss rude earlier, and you repaid me with a kindnesss. I thank you Riordan."

Lisssk stared at her red beer while she spoke. The marble Riordan still held in his hand felt slightly warm for a moment, then went cool again. So originally it was not meant as a sign for her but now it seemed to accept her into a part of it's portents. Riordan shook his head, causing a few locks of his curly white gold mane to to come lose and fall out between his collar and hat.

"It is fine Lisssk. We may need to speak at length later. I want to know what the druid really wanted. For now let us enjoy our drinks and our company."

Lisssk seemed to accept that he wanted to know what she had spoken about with the druid's snake companion. Nodding, she looked at him, her youth seemed to grab at his attention for a moment. He felt all his years suddenly and it was a weary weight on his shoulders. Her smile brightened and his weariness lightened a bit.

"Riordan... your name isss an old one. It ssseemsss to sssuit you rather well."

His voice held a little self depreciation as he replied.

"Yes. I suppose it does."

Riordan and Lisssk drank their respective drinks in quiet for a few moments. Riordan almost missed the presence of a few people just within the tent, fifty feet from them, the men all wore black and whispered to each other and took note of Lissk especially. She did not seem to take notice, instead she spoke about the fair, the music he played earlier and the fact she was pleased to have been able to meet him.

The men left the tent but with clearly nefarious intentions. This boded ill for the girl and maybe for himself. Damn. There was a silence, and he turned toward her. She was obviously waiting for him to say something. Shit. He hadn't really been listening.

"Lisssk. Who would be following you?"

He pitched his voice so as not to call attention to them. She went uncannily still again. Then she blinked twice before answering.

"One or more than one?"

Shit. Shitshitshit.

"The later."

"That isss not good. I will leave you here then Riordan. It wasss good of you to buy me thisss drink. Thank you."

Lisssk started to push away from the bar. The marble in Riordan's pocket felt as though it erupted into flame and he saw a vision pass before his eyes. Lisssk was stretched between two trees hands and feet spread and tied. She was tortured and dead. A human child was also dead at her feet. Riordan knew that his destiny lay in watching this happen tonight.

"Be careful Lisssk. It was very good to meet you."

He drank the last of his tankard as she made her way out of the tent, then he followed her. He normally did not get visions, this was something that the curse put on him long ago wanted of him then. No matter how he fought the curse it would drag him to the assigned place at the assigned time anyway.



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Part # 7

Snow lay tangled in Vandel's body for a few moments before she sat up. His arm fell from her chest and he watched her for a moment.

"It is time to go."

Snow spoke as she pulled her legs from his and then dropped her feet to the floor, standing up. He watched appreciatively from the bed. Her naked sun kissed skin had white scars here and there. She had a burn scar on her left shoulder, a set of three thick white puckered scars across her back, from what he assumed were arrows. On her right shoulder, then just beneath the shoulder blade, and down on the left of her spine.

Despite the imperfections of the scars, or maybe because of them, she was deadly beautiful. She dressed quickly, not once looking at him until she was finished. She turned to him as he was buckling his pants on and watched him as he pulled his shirt over his head.

At some point his hair had come undone and flowed like wavy onyx water down around his face and shoulders, to his waist. It partially shielded his silver eyes from her, but they peaked through the flow at her.

"I will leave first. Meet me at the main square near the Arch. We will leave from there. I will wait no more than twenty minutes after I leave this door."

Snow looked at him again before making sure she had everything and then she left him. He thought of her as he gathered his own things to leave. There was a deep pain in her, and he had been a salve but for how long he wondered.

He left the room, went down the stairs. No one was in the main room except the barkeep. He watched as Vandel descended the stairs. Vandel smiled at him and walked over to the bar. The barkeep shook his head and sat a very heavy purse on the bar.

"I didn't believe I would ever see that. Here, this is yours."

Vandel took the purse with a smile and a nod. Then headed out the door. The walk to the Arch would take fifteen minutes as it was. He was through the alley and halfway through Book street when he felt that he was being watched.

He kept his pace and did not look about him but tried to find where the person was anyway. The person watching him stepped from the shadows of the bookstore to his right. He knew immediately who it was and his high spirits faded but only slightly.

"So you have found your way though you had to get a bit dirty for it."

The feminine voice sounded in Morgroilian as if she were accusing him of every foul thing she could think of.

Vandel shook his head and curled his lip for a moment.

"Niomii, by all that shines golden, what is it your mistress wants of me? I am already betrothed to her. I am not yet married."

He didn't slow his pace but kept walking, which forced her to walk with him or let him leave.

"Vandel you will stain her with your filth. I am not here to speak to you of that though. Your first meeting face to face with her will be three days after your return. Be ready to throw away your trifling whoring."

"You know very well that I have never paid for sex, and have not had any sex since the contract."

Niomii snorted before replying.

"This was not whoring? I was under the impression you got money for it..."

Vandel only took a heartbeat to weigh whether or not to let that slide. He laughed.

"I am glad the farce worked. Even on you."

Niomii squinted at Vandel's back and her steps faltered for a moment. She made a noncommittal noise.

"Whatever. My Lady wants to marry you, and she expects you to remain faithful to her afterwards. So get it all out of your system before you return."

With that she slipped back into a shadow and was gone. Vandel decided not to think on his impending loss of bachelorhood and instead focus on what and why he was going to some far-fetched outlying plane. His right hand clasped the locket with the picture in it that rested in the inside breast pocket of his cloak.

He made it to the main square where the Arch rested five minutes later. The normal line of travelers going through the Arch to wherever they paid for was stopped at the bottom of the nine stairs to the platform the Arch rested on. A group of priests stood on the platform, Snow was speaking with a guard who was holding the line of people back.

He quickly made his way to her and heard her last words to the guard.

"...yes I am Snow. I have a plus one. The Temple will pay for him as well. He is coming now."

She turned as he came within five feet of her. He heard the crowd grumbling about having to wait over an hour.

"Sorry for the hold up friend."

Vandel spoke to the guard and flashed him a brilliant smile. The guard looked up at the priests. Most of them wore blue robes, only one had a variation. A middle aged priest wore a deep purple under robe and a gentle smile. That one nodded at the guard who let them both through.

"Jarek."

Snow's voice was soft and held a genuine like for this man.

"Snow my dear, always good to see you. Here is the other package you are taking."

He held out a hand with a wrapped bundle in it. Snow took it carefully and swung her haversack around to place it within. After she was done the priest, Jarek took her hand in his and squeezed it warmly.

"I should explain..."

Before Snow finished her sentence Jarek cut her off with a shake of his head. The other priests took places before the Arch and started chanting.

"No time dear. It is fine. What is done is done. We must hurry, we have had a warning..."

Before he could finish the Arch sprang to life with a loud swoosh and grinding noise. A bright white-blue light flashed. Then all hell broke lose. Arrows started raining down from the far end of the square. Snow pulled the priest by the hand he held hers with behind one of the other priests just as an arrow thudded into where he had been standing.

Vandel turned to look at the small group who appeared at the far end of the square which the guards were already fighting. A female elven archer was the only one supplying the rain of arrows, but she was so very fast. A gnome was hopping around quick as can be and backstabbing one guard after another.

A young male human in golden armor cut a swath through three guards. A very small figure blurring through the air on pixie wings carried unusually large weapons that shot pellets of death at guards. As the dead guards fell, they rose back up when a very tall figure at the back waved his hand at them.

From the same path the others had come from a streak of movement and then a figure jumping twenty feet into the air and kicking off a building to soar over the fight and toward the Arch. It was a human female, with eastern eyes and clothes. Her long black hair had swaths missing from scars, yet she was the most dazzling creature Vandel had ever beheld. A scar zig-zagged across her face as well.

Snow also turned toward the oncoming fight. She took it all in, and he heard her curse as she began to pull her rapier. Then Jarek was back in front of her somehow, and he gave her a mighty push through the Arch.

"Close it!"

Jarek's voice rang out.

Vandel turned and bolted for the Arch. He had to make it before it closed! Snow hit the energy of the gated arch as some other force hit the Arch. In a purple flash she was gone. Something smacked into Vandel and he tumbled through the Arch as another purple energy hit it.

The usual smooth progression from one plane to another was not what he experienced. Instead it was as if something ripped open his mind and began eating him starting there and going on to the rest of his body. As his consciousness began to fade he was brought back and the flow progressed normally.

A flash of purple energy and he was tumbling through the air. A thousand roaring voices surrounded him. Then he hit the ground, flat on his back, his breath whooshing out of him audibly. His vision darkened for a moment then there was harsh sunlight beating down on him. And he smelled dragons blood incense then heard a woman's soft voice.

"You are not a contestant."

A mans voice joined in.

"No. You won. Guards!!"