With that the woodsman stepped back and Astall continued, "The young woman in black is Neun Ja. She is from a land far away on the other side of Zemelia. Like you, she has been the apprentice of a master for quite some time. Unlike you, she has studied more than magic. While she is a powerful thaumaturge as her affinity for the coronet demonstrates, she has approached the power of the mind from a different tack than that which I have taught you. She has found her strength through pure self-discovery and meditation rather than the incantations and mental exercises which I have had you learn. Her path has also taught her physical skills which are like none we have here in Seremoreh. She is accomplished in hand-to-hand combat and can move through locked doors as if they were open to the wind. She can disappear into shadows as if she was a shadow herself. I have little doubt that her skills will prove invaluable during the trials which you will face."
With the conclusion of Astall's report about her, the incredibly beautiful young woman with the sloe eyes stepped forward. She clasped her hands together and inclined her head toward Jerrod with a grace that took his breath away. She moved like a dancer but with a unique and dangerous poise and a sense of balance that made even the cat-like agility which Wolf had earlier displayed seem clumsy in comparison. Jerrod fell in lust all over again.
She stepped back into the shadows and, as Astall had said she could, she seemed to disappear as if she had never been there. Astall smiled and recommenced the introductions. "This fellow is Ordolf," he said, indicating the nondescript man who had suggested the now accepted explanation of Jerrod's seizure. "He is a puissant mage, perhaps as mighty as any other in the world. While his appearance may be deceiving, he knows more about the dark side of the arts than any member of our guild who has not turned renegade. He will wear the ebon cape which will both destroy Iskandar's power over the dead and which will send him back to the enchanted rest from which he is now waking."
The unremarkable-looking archmage nodded to Jerrod and winked.
"You already have met Enki and Urki, so there is but one more of your company for me to introduce. She is as extraordinary a being as any I have met and probably will be the most difficult member of the group for you to accept as a companion."
"Derazha is the product of a union many had thought impossible, both physically and emotionally. But possible or no, she is the fruit of the union between a troll and an ilf. Her mother, an ilvan princess, was captured by a band of marauding trolls who slaughtered her bodyguards and took her as she was travelling between ilvan communities. Not surprisingly, they raped her. What is amazing is that they didn't slay the young ilfess then and there. Instead their dominant took a fancy to her and kept her as a pet or lover or mate or some combination of those. She bore him a child. That child was and is Derazha."
"She raised her daughter and gave the child her love despite the vile nature of the act which begat her. Derazha was like the other trolls in many ways. She was large, powerful, omnivorous and voracious. She looked much like other trolls except that the proportions were somewhat more ilf-like. Like the other trollkin, her body also regenerated harm done to it."
"In some ways Derazha was different than other trolls, however. She had a voice box which could shape ilvan or human speech without difficulty. Instead of being cunning, she was thoughtful and insightful. Most importantly, her nature was also most untrolllike. She was not moved to rape, slaughter or pillage. Instead, those things sickened Derazha. She was moved by songs and art, by beauty and harmony."
"These things were difficult to come by among the trolls, however. Still, she felt herself one of them despite the differences in inclination. When her sire died, she took control of the band despite the patriarchal nature of their society which militated against her succession. Derazha tried to teach the trollkin different ways, ways which went against their nature or mayhap only their nurture. Whatever, the things she preached were foreign to them and many of the trollkin resisted.
It was a time of great travail among the trollkin. But that is a story for another time, it has little bearing on you and your comrades at present. Suffice it to say, Derazha failed in her attempt to remold the culture of the trolls. Realizing that, she left and began to wander."
"Her fearsome exterior made it difficult for Derazha to find reactions other than fear or open hostility among those she encountered during her travels. Eventually, however, she made it to the ilvan settlement in which her mother had been raised. The first reaction of the ilvankind to her was much like that of the others she had met during her wanderings -- fear and open hostility -- but her ability to speak their language -- and other proofs which I will not go into -- convinced them that she was indeed the offspring of their lost princess. They accepted her as one of them. Their favor was reluctant at first but came with growing grace as they came to know her."
"Still, however, Derazha did not feel completely at home among the ilfs. Her appearance and her size made it painfully obvious that while she may have been domiciled with them she was not one of them. She longed to rid herself of the troll elements in her nature."
"Derazha sees this quest as her chance to accomplish that desire. She believes that when she strips Iskandar of his troll nature there is a chance she will rid herself of that part of her as well. I do not know if this is so, or even good, but I cannot deny her her hope especially when without her the rest of you will almost surely fail."
Derazha looked at Jerrod and smiled – a rather intimidating act from one with a collection of fangs like hers.
Jerrod, for his part, thought to himself that this was a group that was far more experienced than he. Not only were they more experienced than he, nearly all of them had backgrounds which deserved his respect. Most of them had some talent in the magic arts, and some surpassed him in the practice of the arcane. One might even be the equal of his mentor. Another of them had at least some royal blood.
That left the warrior twins. Somehow they did not seem to be as extraordinary as the rest of this group. But why then would they be included by fate? Had he missed something exceptional in them? It seemed unlikely, but perhaps he should consider the possibility.
Still, it was quite a group. Four women and four men. A balance that seemed fated rather than chance. Jerrod shook his head. He was still more than a little disconcerted by the impact of the happenstances of the past few minutes. His companions -- for that is what they now were, for some reason Jerrod no longer felt as if his volition mattered -- went back to the various tables at which they had been sitting, perhaps to contemplate the strange connection which they had all felt, perhaps just to finish their meals. At any rate, Jerrod himself rose from his prone position atop the taproom's central table and stepped gingerly back to the table at which Astall, Urki, and Enki sat.
"Master, uh, Astall, uh, Master Astall...," Jerrod stammered as he spoke, because he no longer was sure how to address his teacher.
"Astall will do," his former mentor smiled.
"Astall," Jerrod said, "you have told me of the seven items, as I presume you have informed the others of these totems of power, but you also said something of a possible location for one of them."
"That I did, lad, that I did." Astall grew once again serious. "It is far from here, which can come as little surprise. The ancient tomes over which I have pored for the past few months have suggested that the Sword of Might which is keyed to the twins is somewhere off to the south in the Islands of Despair. At least that is where I believe it to be."
"Millennia ago the sword was sent as a gift from one king to another. The reasons for such an extravagant gift are lost in time, perhaps it was a marriage, perhaps tribute, but whatever the reason the story of the voyage itself was recorded in a journal kept by a palace courtier whose brother was lost on the journey."
"The journal found its way into the palace archives of the kingdom of Aargran and a helpful archivist there made it known to me."
"In his journal, the courtier describes a voyage made by a huge fleet carrying gold, silver, gems, and soldiers which was headed to one of the kingdoms of the distant southern lands. The voyage from Aargran to the southern kingdoms is, like the one from Seremoreh to the southern lands, long and perilous. There are few places to land and even fewer where one can replenish supplies. One of the places to restock one's supplies on the trip lies in the Islands of Despair. Most of the islands, however, are barren wastelands which can feed barely feed a bird let alone a fleet. They all have a sinister reputation."
"According to a missive which the courtier received by pigeon from his brother, the fleet's admiral, the fleet was en route to the depot in the islands when it was hit by a sudden squall which sank many ships and damaged most of the rest. The fleet was adrift among the Islands of Despair with no food and little water. The courtier heard no more. It's amazing that he heard that much."
"If we take the man at his word -- and there seems little reason why we shouldn't -- then the sword which you seek is somewhere in the Islands of Despair. Where, I know not. Perhaps it lies under the sea. Perhaps it was deposited on a deserted beach on one of the myriad islands of the archipelago."
"Whatever its precise location may be, the seven of you must discover on your own. For good reason, the seven items of power are by their very nature impossible to locate by magical means. Should Iskandar or his servants locate them then all is lost. You must travel to the islands and seek out the sword, then either bring it back, or should you chance upon clues to the whereabouts of one of the other articles which can hamstring Iskandar's powers then you must follow that trail.
"And you will not be the only ones who seek the keys to Iskandar's chains. His minions, too, will be seeking those tokens of power, for I am convinced that the evil lich needs them to fully free himself. Their puissance still binds him. He must accomplish their destruction if he is to be truly returned to his full sway.
"Where opposition will come from I ken not. You can be certain that the trolls will oppose you, but there will be others also. Men, ilfs, dwarfs, others past knowing may seek to hinder you in your quest or perhaps even to gather the items ere you are able. But know this, they have no source of knowledge of the locations of the artifacts. I deem that they will know even less than do we. In this you will have the advantage. But before you can seize it, first you must eat and then get a good night's rest. I imagine you have much to chew on." The old mage chuckled at his own wit. He then stood and nodded as he said, "I, myself, plan on turning in. Enjoy your meal and your company." Astall left chuckling to himself apparently greatly amused by his attempts at humor.
The twins, who had sat back down at their places at the table which the four of them had earlier occupied, smiled at Astall's jests and began to once again enjoy the meals which they had barely begun. Fortunately for them and for Jerrod, Fran had noticed the commotion which had gone on earlier and reheated their meals. He had brought them back out as the quartet had returned to their tables, so they were piping hot.
Jerrod ate slowly. As Astall had said, he had much to chew on. His life had changed very drastically. He had been ripped from the sheltered existence which he had had since birth. No longer was he going to spend his days and nights under the protection of another in a warm, safe home far from any possible danger. Instead, he was about to undertake a quest in which he would presumably assault the very gates of darkness. He and his companions were to neutralize an undying archmage who had as his goal total dominion of the entire world. And Jerrod's companions -- Jerrod's companions were a collection of people who were not only strangers but singularly strange.
Yet there was no doubt in Jerrod's mind that he must undertake the task set before him. Why did he feel such a compulsion? Was it the psychic resonance that Ordolf had diagnosed? Was it his destiny, a destiny so powerful that he couldn't even question it? Or was it some more mundane aspiration? Was he longing secretly for adventure? Or was the beauty of Neun Ja so overwhelming that he could do naught but seek her company wherever that might lead? Perhaps it was a combination of some or mayhap all of those motives or perhaps those and still others which he had yet to recognize in himself. Whatever the reason or reasons, Jerrod felt obliged to begin to strive to set Iskandar once more to rest. Whatever the cost, it was something he felt he must do.
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