--- Adventure 1 ---

"What do you define as magic?" asked Thorn. He sipped from the tea that the pot had poured in his mug. "People have said I do magic when I've left them with empty pockets" He laughed. "I didn't. I was just quicker than their eye and it was something they did not understand. For me... it's being one with things. If you are one with fire, then fire is one with you and you can wield it. If you are one with the earth, then earth is one with you. It will cover you steps from your enemies and reveal you their tracks."

He shrugged. "I don't consider that I do magic. I just listen more closely than most, respect their ways and try to talk their language. If you do that good enough, animals will speak, birds will speak, trees will move and the wind itself will listen to you." He laughed. "You'd have to ask my Elven cousins about the deeper piholosphy of this. If they are willing to explain, of course... and if you have the patience for year long rambling. I neither know nor do it to their level. But enough to get by and ellude the eyes and ears of most."

"Interesting" said Angy , after she sipped from her tea.

"I try to speak in other's language too.... Something's still unclear to me , how come that you aren't with your cousins ? It would have been a very safe and sure place to be , or so I think.

Anyway , magic is an art , a very fine and complicated one. It's a real gift to know how to handle magic , once when your born with some amount of it. Magic can be very dangerous also too. If you can't handle it well , you can destroy yourself ,and the ones surrounding you. In conclusion , in my humble opinion , magic is a very fine , dark and mysterious art , and you must be careful when you're using it."

Rissa sat quietly, as she wasn't even there, but her ears were in all places at once.

An answer to Thorn's question came from Ias, however.

"It's stupid to define magic. Magic is magic. People who see me always say *oh... he does magic* when it not so. Passion can be magic, when you do certain things - like in your case, Thorn, like Duro'Than's, like mine... if you believe strongly enough, you can do with with no magic - but for others, will be the greates one."

Ias grabbed the cup of tea and soon, Rissa did the same.

"Fire... d-dead?" she said then amazed.

"Hmmm...." the horse neighed.

"Fire...".

Drogo perked his ears. "You definitely seem to have an obsession with that, Thorn."

The rogue looked confused for a few moments. Then, realised he must've voices his thoughts, gave the gnome an angry look. He emptied his mug and got up.

"I'll take on first watch. Come and change me whoever feels like it, if you will... I don't need sleep tonight." He threw the mug to the gnome (unbelievingly, Drogo actually caught it without spilling more than half of his own remaining tea over him), adjusted the straps of the sword sheaths on his back and climbed on the lowest branch of a tree several feet away. He wrapped his cloak about him and froze still, doing exactly what he had tried to explain to the others: becoming one with the surrounding, listening to the whispers of the trees in the grove and the sounds surrounding him. All seemed as it should be.

Rissa would have liked to stand guard, however, she was still tired from two night ago when the full moon got her hunting madly. She was pretty jealous at elves for what they could do. She hoped atleast one would love her sometime. She dreamt at this while the steam warmed her nostrils.

"One of the crude natural laws sais that everything dies - especially the ones that are born, will certainly be doomed to face death. Following this rule, fire also dies. However, few are really able to dee a dead... fire... in his true nature. Many... They only know the undead one. A grave mistake the world does... whenever will it understand that dying is not nearly the same as... undying?" Ias sighed while he finished his cup and returned it to the gnome.

"Stories, aren't they? Don't you like stories?"

"Oh, I looove stories. My granny always...". Then he fell silent. Drogo was quite certain that he hadn't been the one asked.

"Why did you stopped? For me, stories are a way of life. I suffer from depresive insomnia, anyways. I'll be able to talk all night if let to." Ias said like a warning. Actually, he knew very well that the nights weren't really pleasent for him.

Drogo shrugged. "Well... it's a part of my life that is too far away to be recalled." He smiled shyly. "Also, I guess you could say... I am in a story right now."

"We all are" Rissa and Ias mumbled togheter, withouth knowing. They looked at each other and blinked as they couldn't believe. She returned to her sleep and Ias turned his head to Drogo then.

"Are you from too far away? 'Cause... I am..."

"Well... it depends on whether you consider the Orsraun mountains far... You seem well traveled, but me... I've never been this far from home. So to me, it is from far, yeah..." He took another sip from his tea. It had gone cold. He heard the distant cry of an owl, a flutter of wings, then silence. Only the cracking of the fire. His hands smelled like garlic. But he didn't seem to mind anything. He was thinking of Home.

"There is always snow there. And ice and cold. Crystal clear air. And my people... they build beautiful things. Ever heard the tale of the Ice Queen and her palace of Ice? My granny always used to say that the description of that palace made of ice, with its tall slender towers that glistened in the cold moonlight... that it was inspired to some mesmerized traveller when he visited the lands of the snow gnomes." He laughed fondly and emptied his mug. He was suddenly feeling drowsy. And thinking of home, an ache began to grow in his chest which he didn't really want to investigate further...

"I guess we should go to sleep... if whatever is out there will let us." He shivered. He gave Ias a curious glance. "How do you sleep?... errrrm... Do you ever?"