<p>
One by one, the Grey Wardens open their eyes as their senses slowly come back to life. No, you are not dead - at least you do not think so - but much has changed since your last waking moments. The first thing each of you notices is your complete lack of sight. All is black. There is something covering your eyes - some kind of cloth tight about your head. Your wrists are bound behind you and your ankles are well-tied together, both by some smooth but extremely tough material that you cannot seem to easily break or otherwise defy. You then realize there is something that tastes of leather in your mouth. You are gagged and cannot speak. Lastly, your skin tells you that you are also wearing next to nothing. You are lying on a hard wooden floor, and your wrists are bound to something else, preventing you from standing, sitting up, or even moving more than a foot to one side. Then you realize it - you somehow tied to each other. You may be still wearing your bathing suits perhaps, or whatever you were wearing beneath your robes or armor, but nothing else. Luna alone senses that Sparkle is still quite unconscious, and Luna's <em>Mage Armor</em> remains active, though how long that invisible benefit will remain is not known to her. Oh, but your ears work perfectly fine... You hear Bilal cheering nearby, as if in a hall close by. "I have done it! Oh, I have done it! I captured a Half-elf! A <em>Half-elf! </em>What a fine addition to Bilal's Menagerie! Oooh!" He is nearly shrieking in amazement. You hear the sound of a hand striking cloth. "Come now, scholar! Share in the joy! I have captured manticores, nagas, basilisks, and all kinds of wonders that kings and rich folk never get to see but through me - but <em>this</em>?! It was so good of you to tell me about him when these 'Grey Wardens' arrived. What are there, four, maybe, five in the whole world? Teach me!" It takes him a moment to reply, but when he does, you quickly recognize Stewart's voice. "What about the others, good master?" "To hell with the others! What am I going to do with them, save for perhaps the Wizardess? What a fine plaything she will make. What was her name?" "Captain Grimdell said her name is Luna." Stewart appears to pause as if careful not to say more. "'Luna'," you can almost hear the grin on Bila's face. "And she looks to have some fine 'moons' too, doesn't she? Just like the monk over there. Heh, heh! What is the name of the Half-elf?" "Otiorin." "Oh-tee... just what kind of name is that?" "Gray Elven." "Oh! I wonder if they want him back!" Your ears tell you Bilal the Rich is bouncing up and down in joy, his jeweled sash jingling. "Not... likely, good master." There is then a sudden rush of movement followed by a gasp. The master of the caravan is whispering, his tone turns harsh and full of threat. "Stop hesitating. You know I hate that. What <em>else </em>should I know about Half-elves? What aren't you telling me?" Stewart remains silent. "<em>Stewart</em>!" Bilal paces back and forth like a prowling cougar. His words come unhurried, like an archer aiming at an easy target. "Perhaps... perhaps it is time you stop caring about what is in my menagerie, and <em>start</em> caring about things more dear to you. Like... Beatrice?" You hear Stewart gasp again. His breathing becomes shaky. "Yes... You can't afford her medicine without my pay, can you? Of course, you can't! And no one else who can will take you." You think you hear the sound of Bilal tapping his finger on Stewart's thin chest. "<em>You</em> were second <em>only</em> to Grand Scholar Oscar of Highwind in the knowledge of monsters and rare creatures! And second place <em>is </em>first loser; you know that, don't you? I only know so much... but you? You.. are under my employ to fill in the gaps." There is a movement like something sliding against clothing, likely from Bilal to Stewart. "So. Half-elves? How much is he worth? 100,000 at least, right?" Stewart's voice is low. "No." "More?" "You meddle in things beyond you. You could be killed-" Bilal suddenly roars. "<em>What are you talking about</em>?! Speak plainly!" Stewart's voice now takes on a firmness of its own. "Bilal, you know not what you carry in this wagon! There are but a handful Half-elves in all of Sharseya, and <em>all</em> of them have pasts shrouded in mystery. For example, one is completely responsible for the complete destruction of the Wild Elves' ancestral home. Understand? That act alone forced the Wild Elves to enter, some say 'invade', the Forest Eternal where their Wood Elven cousins have long lived. That nearly started a war." Stewart sighs. "A Wild Elf will kill Otiorin on sight, and quite possibly anyone else with him." "So? A single Wild Elf?" "They travel in packs, like hunting wolves! And they hide ferocious secrets..." Bilal's tone becomes more cautious. "What else?" "Another Half-elf was directly responsible for the death of a dragon-" "By my coins!!" "She is known as the Dragonslayer for that very deed and more. And if she is free and you are her your enemy, you won't see her coming until it is too late. Yet there is one fact I remain uncertain of." Bilal taps his fingers together and listens. "I <em>think</em> the Half-elf in question is female, but I don't <em>know</em>. I had to leave Highwind before I found the answer." "And we might have him, if it is a him?" "Correct." Bilal slaps his forehead. "I suppose we will have to interrogate him. Or perhaps he could get eaten and I won't have to die by some Wild Elf's arrow. Time to get creative again. In the meantime..." "Eaten? What-" "Throw them in with the Beast." "'The Beast?!' You brought them here to-" "It should be fine! Fine. We fed it two hobbits just yesterday! Remember their dying screams? And how the whole wagon shook? Oh, what a symphony! It will likely eat the one we have there next, don't you think?" Bilal's foot taps upon the floor. "And if he eats one of the others instead... well... that's just a bad roll of the dice, I suppose. Either way, I need time to think about this while we travel to Highwind." Bilal turns to leave, but pauses. "Oh and... <em>good work</em>, Stewart! <em>Goooood</em> work! I bet your Beatrice would be proud of you! Ha ha ha!" Without waiting for a reply, Bilal leaves. A few moments later, in come the boots of many men. You hear the jingling of brass, like keys dancing on a belt. Then you hear a great door squeal open near you, and your ears tell you of a very large room beyond, though not so large as the room with the pool. "Careful, men," a voice says. "Keep your steel at the ready here, or tempt a violent and gruesome death!" One by one you are tossed inside. You feel the pricks of hay all over you as you land on the floor, and as the door slams shut, you hear the jingling of what must be a huge lock being turned. Then the footsteps fade away... ...to be replaced by the sound of something big. Something big in the room with you. Your ears detect the heavy breathing in lungs much greater in size than your own, followed by the animal sound of a low threatening growl. The growl of a hunting creature. A Beast, one might say... Then that something sniffs the air around you. It comes closer. Then it sniffs again. Finally, your ears hear a sound like speech, perhaps? Or is it your imagination getting the better of you? Perhaps you are going a little mad when you hear the thing make a sound that seems to say... "Mooooooaaaaarrr..."
</p>
One by one, the Grey Wardens open their eyes as their senses slowly come back to life. No, you are not dead - at least you do not think so - but much has changed since your last waking moments. The first thing each of you notices is your complete lack of sight. All is black. There is something covering your eyes - some kind of cloth tight about your head. Your wrists are bound behind you and your ankles are well-tied together, both by some smooth but extremely tough material that you cannot seem to easily break or otherwise defy. You then realize there is something that tastes of leather in your mouth. You are gagged and cannot speak. Lastly, your skin tells you that you are also wearing next to nothing. You are lying on a hard wooden floor, and your wrists are bound to something else, preventing you from standing, sitting up, or even moving more than a foot to one side. Then you realize it - you somehow tied to each other. You may be still wearing your bathing suits perhaps, or whatever you were wearing beneath your robes or armor, but nothing else. Luna alone senses that Sparkle is still quite unconscious, and Luna's <em>Mage Armor</em> remains active, though how long that invisible benefit will remain is not known to her. Oh, but your ears work perfectly fine... You hear Bilal cheering nearby, as if in a hall close by. "I have done it! Oh, I have done it! I captured a Half-elf! A <em>Half-elf! </em>What a fine addition to Bilal's Menagerie! Oooh!" He is nearly shrieking in amazement. You hear the sound of a hand striking cloth. "Come now, scholar! Share in the joy! I have captured manticores, nagas, basilisks, and all kinds of wonders that kings and rich folk never get to see but through me - but <em>this</em>?! It was so good of you to tell me about him when these 'Grey Wardens' arrived. What are there, four, maybe, five in the whole world? Teach me!" It takes him a moment to reply, but when he does, you quickly recognize Stewart's voice. "What about the others, good master?" "To hell with the others! What am I going to do with them, save for perhaps the Wizardess? What a fine plaything she will make. What was her name?" "Captain Grimdell said her name is Luna." Stewart appears to pause as if careful not to say more. "'Luna'," you can almost hear the grin on Bila's face. "And she looks to have some fine 'moons' too, doesn't she? Just like the monk over there. Heh, heh! What is the name of the Half-elf?" "Otiorin." "Oh-tee... just what kind of name is that?" "Gray Elven." "Oh! I wonder if they want him back!" Your ears tell you Bilal the Rich is bouncing up and down in joy, his jeweled sash jingling. "Not... likely, good master." There is then a sudden rush of movement followed by a gasp. The master of the caravan is whispering, his tone turns harsh and full of threat. "Stop hesitating. You know I hate that. What <em>else </em>should I know about Half-elves? What aren't you telling me?" Stewart remains silent. "<em>Stewart</em>!" Bilal paces back and forth like a prowling cougar. His words come unhurried, like an archer aiming at an easy target. "Perhaps... perhaps it is time you stop caring about what is in my menagerie, and <em>start</em> caring about things more dear to you. Like... Beatrice?" You hear Stewart gasp again. His breathing becomes shaky. "Yes... You can't afford her medicine without my pay, can you? Of course, you can't! And no one else who can will take you." You think you hear the sound of Bilal tapping his finger on Stewart's thin chest. "<em>You</em> were second <em>only</em> to Grand Scholar Oscar of Highwind in the knowledge of monsters and rare creatures! And second place <em>is </em>first loser; you know that, don't you? I only know so much... but you? You.. are under my employ to fill in the gaps." There is a movement like something sliding against clothing, likely from Bilal to Stewart. "So. Half-elves? How much is he worth? 100,000 at least, right?" Stewart's voice is low. "No." "More?" "You meddle in things beyond you. You could be killed-" Bilal suddenly roars. "<em>What are you talking about</em>?! Speak plainly!" Stewart's voice now takes on a firmness of its own. "Bilal, you know not what you carry in this wagon! There are but a handful Half-elves in all of Sharseya, and <em>all</em> of them have pasts shrouded in mystery. For example, one is completely responsible for the complete destruction of the Wild Elves' ancestral home. Understand? That act alone forced the Wild Elves to enter, some say 'invade', the Forest Eternal where their Wood Elven cousins have long lived. That nearly started a war." Stewart sighs. "A Wild Elf will kill Otiorin on sight, and quite possibly anyone else with him." "So? A single Wild Elf?" "They travel in packs, like hunting wolves! And they hide ferocious secrets..." Bilal's tone becomes more cautious. "What else?" "Another Half-elf was directly responsible for the death of a dragon-" "By my coins!!" "She is known as the Dragonslayer for that very deed and more. And if she is free and you are her your enemy, you won't see her coming until it is too late. Yet there is one fact I remain uncertain of." Bilal taps his fingers together and listens. "I <em>think</em> the Half-elf in question is female, but I don't <em>know</em>. I had to leave Highwind before I found the answer." "And we might have him, if it is a him?" "Correct." Bilal slaps his forehead. "I suppose we will have to interrogate him. Or perhaps he could get eaten and I won't have to die by some Wild Elf's arrow. Time to get creative again. In the meantime..." "Eaten? What-" "Throw them in with the Beast." "'The Beast?!' You brought them here to-" "It should be fine! Fine. We fed it two hobbits just yesterday! Remember their dying screams? And how the whole wagon shook? Oh, what a symphony! It will likely eat the one we have there next, don't you think?" Bilal's foot taps upon the floor. "And if he eats one of the others instead... well... that's just a bad roll of the dice, I suppose. Either way, I need time to think about this while we travel to Highwind." Bilal turns to leave, but pauses. "Oh and... <em>good work</em>, Stewart! <em>Goooood</em> work! I bet your Beatrice would be proud of you! Ha ha ha!" Without waiting for a reply, Bilal leaves. A few moments later, in come the boots of many men. You hear the jingling of brass, like keys dancing on a belt. Then you hear a great door squeal open near you, and your ears tell you of a very large room beyond, though not so large as the room with the pool. "Careful, men," a voice says. "Keep your steel at the ready here, or tempt a violent and gruesome death!" One by one you are tossed inside. You feel the pricks of hay all over you as you land on the floor, and as the door slams shut, you hear the jingling of what must be a huge lock being turned. Then the footsteps fade away... ...to be replaced by the sound of something big. Something big in the room with you. Your ears detect the heavy breathing in lungs much greater in size than your own, followed by the animal sound of a low threatening growl. The growl of a hunting creature. A Beast, one might say... Then that something sniffs the air around you. It comes closer. Then it sniffs again. Finally, your ears hear a sound like speech, perhaps? Or is it your imagination getting the better of you? Perhaps you are going a little mad when you hear the thing make a sound that seems to say... "Mooooooaaaaarrr..."
</p>
Last edited by a moderator: