--- Adventure 1 ---

"Not all men rely on their weapons..." Rissa said to Angy. "But I feel these are not common people."

Renata_necromantica a scris:

Si Ias mai adauga, dupa un moment de tacere, in care realiza ca barbarul nu-i putea citi gandurile:

:evil:

,,Ce te face sa crezi ca arta Kor e la gramada cu altele, doar o alta arta magica pentru cei ce nu... *admira* armele?"

Isi gadila nerabdator coasa. Prin categoria de arme la care apartinea, nu tocmai o arma comuna, ca oricare alta...

Duro'than rămase puţin pe gănduri. vrăjitorul ăsta

'World mysteries? Kajia is a mystery'... Ias thought.

"You see... Kajia doesn't bring any new magical powers. In fact... the only power it gives is to break the magical laws that... cannot be broken. Weird, huh? The key to a good song is to speak the truth. If you lie, you're doomed to failure. A song must get you there... right there.. in its essence. Truth is source of all Kajia art."

He knew that Barbarians also valued truth.

Angy , văz

duro'than era impresionat. da, simţea muzica atunci c

(mda...)

"Barbarule...nu eşti singurul care simte muzica...nu eşti singurul care se hrăneşte cu muzică...

sufletul meu doar atunci e liniştit c

The horse had an innate sense to be distant to any creature - as a Nekorrim. He hunted a high position, and would do just about anything for it.

"I just like to sing, as my master that raised me has taught me. I am old, and not easily adapted to your young world. Maybe this is why I am alone, maybe this is why I am dark. Maybe this is why I chose Death's sorbriety. So I ask myself... who would ever want to be my friend ?"

He sang in a dying murmur what was heard like:

*In your dreams you always knew

That man and history

Deceived you.

The beast of arts is there, inside...

The beast of arts is there, inside each...

The beast of the arts is there, inside each and everybody...

Is there really a beast of the arts... ?

Inside,

Each and everybody's mind.*

But who could ever say something proven about a convinced Nekorrim?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rissa just started speaking:

,,I know you, Ias! I have heard your songs, while I was with the pack... they liked your way!"

Then she also said...

,,I know the videoclip, also... but you were... all messed up and crying. A dramatic view, in a black country... it was you!". The horse she remembered was far away from what Ias looked like now; but she knew - it was this Nekorrim...

Finally, Thorn stirred from the stillness he had fallen in since the gnome's arrival. He had expected him to unleash his tongue and explain the hows and whys to the others. However, it seemed that the little fellow had turned to stone, staring at those gathered around. 'What the hell is wrong with him? I couldn't have possibly found him a better group, standing a better chance to make it. He has driven me half nuts with his constant jibbering, and now he just stands there staring...'

Puffing with disdain, he coughed slightly to catch the attention. 'Damn, I'm going to develop a tic soon...'

He walked in front of Drogo and thrust himself in front of the gnome.

"Well? Did you bring the map?"

Drogo twitched when the shadow of the Half-Elf fell on him. Then Thorn thrust himself in front of him and it seemed as if he had broken some kind of spell that had kept him mesemerised. The tips of his fingers itched, like back when he was a child and his grandmother told him stories of great wizards and undefeated heroes. He felt as if he had stepped into a fairytale. He had remained fascinated at the force and self-assurance that the black horse was giving forth. The silent guy emanated a diffuse sensation of danger. The Barbarian seemed to have stepped forth from a story book, there was a shadow of mystery hanging over the girl and the she-wolf... she carried within her a magic as old as the world itself. Even an apprentice like himself could sense that.

When his train of thought came here, two things happened almost simultaneously. First, Thorn speaking to him in that tone that drove him out of his wits and secondly, his anger of himself at thinking in terms of "apprentice" of himself. All in all, he had manage to stop his master's plan from unfolding. He, Drogo, not someone else, and definitely not this stuck up Half Elf. Even though... yes, he needed them. He had first thought of giving the map to someone and thus make sure the old wizard wouldn't reach the Vanished City and at the same time getting rid of being hunterd down for it. But now... now he was determined to take part in this adventure. So, he straightened his back, trying to look taller and arranged the pouches at his belt. He tried to put on a serious face, like someone who knows that important stuff depends on him, more important than clean glasses with spell herbs being dusted off and not broken.

"Yes, of course I have it! What do you take me for?"

Then he smiled vaguely to the others.

"Hello... I am Drogo. I think Thorn told you...". Then he looked at him. Well, it was almost impossible not to look at him, as he was still standing inches away from him. He always made him feel insecure... Like he was expecting a blade between his ribs or, worse, being left without his precious pouch. Well... silent and moody as he was, he had probably not told them anything.

"I have a map of the Vanished City. It is vital for us to reach it before anyone else. The story is a bit longer than that, and we will have plenty of time... around campfires..." He felt he was getting lost again in his grandmother's stories, so he cleared his thought.

"Here's the map." From a fold of his shirt or maybe from his belt, he took out a tube made of light wood. From it, he pulled forth a smooth piece of leather, well curried, on which a map had been drawn.

"It represents the region around the Vanished City. Here is the island and here the two other main cities of the former kingdom, at the foot of the mountains, next to the passes. As can be seen from the map, the citizens in one town were busy mining and woodcutting, while the others tended to the land, fished and raised livestock."

He stopped, not knowing whether to add something, or what there might be left to say. This didn't happen to him too often, but truth be told, he wasn't often in such company either. Not knowing what else to do, he reached to hand Thorn the map. The Half Elf didn't take it, but turned around to the others, waiting for reactions.

Ias let the Barbarian think and turned to Rissa: "My night life is different from what the public knows. Though, true, in the Kajia library I do have animated singings - the ones with a magic caught videoclip. And they are not what the *commoners* may think they are. How can I say? It's like we're two in one body... the beast... and the artist... Isn't it?"

Ias smiled and stopped to observe the gnome. Yes, the map was intriguing. All his book-maps stopped somewhere near realm borders. Did the gnome realise the treasure he was holding? For a Nekorrim...

~*~

Rissa didn't find any good reply to say right now. However, animals weren't good at maps, so she left the others to struggle with the gnome.