Stephen looks ashamed, "Derek, please. I'm sorry Mr. Korbach, take your time..."
Korbach now seems more relaxed, "Well, I suppose I can expedite my story. May 3rd, 1968 I'm on spring break from college and I'm crammed into a VW bus with five or six other hippies. It's the middle of the night and we're in North Carolina heading toward a Vietnam War protest in DC. We've been driving a couple of hours and well, those times were different. We were enjoying the herb of the time, enjoyed far too much actually..."
Derek laughs, "Those times weren't that different."
Korbach shrugs, "Perhaps your right. Any way the minibus pulls over and we pick up what we thought was a hitch hiker. A man dressed in thick dark robes joined us. He couldn't contain his surprise when the van started moving and he spit out a string of incomprehensible words. I remember we all laughed for a while, we thought he was just a bizarro, stoned, traveling hippy like the rest of us. We offered him some of what we were smoking. He smelled it and handed it back. Then he clutched a huge sapphire at his neck and uttered strange words. A blue light swirled from his mouth like tentacles, a thin strand touching each one of our mouths and when he spoke we could understand him. His first question was 'What plane is this?' 'You're not in a plane, you're in our peace bus, man!' The rest of the conversation was like that. We could understand his words and he could under stand ours but we weren't talking about the same things. Anyway, the guy tired of talking but he couldn't help staring out the window, watching the lights and the cars going by. Despite his efforts he eventually fell asleep. We stopped only once during the night in a tiny town about 50 miles out of DC. One of our group got off there. Everyone was so stoned they didn't care what was happening. We arrived at the Vietnam protest in the morning and the sun and the fresh air woke the unusual traveler. Immediately he clutched at his neck where his necklace had been and it was gone. His satchel was also gone. He demanded to know who had stolen his talisman and spell book. We all just kind of looked at each other. He stormed off into the protest crowd. I knew that the member of our group who left us at the gas up in the small town had robbed him. I felt bad about the situation and so I followed him into the crowd to tell him. The area around the reflecting pool was packed and I could just see the edges of his dark robe as he angrily shoved his way through the crowd. Finally the crowd grew too thick and I thought I wouldn't be able to catch him because the crush had stopped him from moving forward. Suddenly I heard a growl, like a bear had been loosed. People flew backwards away from the traveler in a perfect circle around him. Two people were hurled into the pool. I just stood agape like the rest of the crowd. The traveler looked around at all of us. I guess he was looking for a different reaction, fear rather than amazement. He ran and the crowd parted for him. In a moment he was gone. That was the last time I saw him.
Derek leans against the wall, "If that was the last time you saw him then how did you get to Thrycion?"
Korbach smiles and leans in closer, "Well, even as my brain clawed its way out of the night's drug induced stupor I started to put the pieces together. Talisman, spell book, the spell the traveler cast. None of it was a drug hallucination. The traveler was a warlock, I thought. I had seen some things from a girl I knew who belonged to a coven. I hurried and caught a bus that would take me back to the small town where we gassed up. Before the sun set I had tracked the thief's movements by questioning the townspeople. Turns out he sold everything in the satchel to an antique shop. I got the shopkeeper to admit that he bought the satchel. He had it on display and he did a lot to discourage me from buying it. Said that it was written in a completely incomprehensible language. He finally quoted a price of three hundred dollars and that ended the discussion because I had spent my last dime just getting to that town. I left and started hitching back to town. I hadn't walked more than a mile when I saw the shopkeeper pass in an old pickup heading into town. He drove past without a glance and as I drudged along wondering what this whole trip back here had been for it occurred to me that the shopkeeper had been completely alone at the shop. I ran back to the shop and while I caught my breath I built up my resolve to break into the shop and steal the satchel. The breaking in was easy. It was the sixties and there were no alarm systems wired directly to police stations back then, not a small town shop at least. I found the book right in the display case where it had been when I tried to get it earlier. I searched for the backpack but I could not find it anywhere. I left and hitched a ride out of that town as fast as I could , heading back to the area where we picked the traveler up. I thought the antique dealer had been wrong when he said that the writing in the spell book was incomprehensible. I could read and understand the writing but I could also see that the text was not English or any other language I had seen. Actually I could only read and understand it the way a sixth grader could read an advanced volume on quantum physics. I had my hitched ride drop me off at the spot where we picked the traveler up. It was five in the morning and I hadn't eaten anything for almost a day. I was able to determine that the traveler came through a portal in the mountain from what I read in his spell book. I took one look at the mountain and new I couldn't climb it without equipment and a guide. I hitched into town. I had no money to buy climbing gear even if it could be bought in town. I started searching for somewhere I could pawn my watch for even a few bucks and came across a group of local teens. I asked them if anywhere in town sold climbing gear and they told me you could buy some gear at the hardware shop. They also remarked that I didn't look like much of a climber. We talked and the teens must have liked me because they took me to see the best climber in town, an older brother of one of the teens. I didn't have a dime to pay him but the boys must have sensed something special happening - maybe they were just bored - because they convinced the older brother to take me up the mountain. The guide was able to find the tracks of the man who had come through the portal quite easily. He had taken the smoothest path down the mountain and he was not an experienced climber. The guide pretty much sherpa'd me up the mountain to a cave where the trail of the traveler had begun. This cave contained the portal to Thrycion. I knew I wanted to go through so I "
The door to the room opens abruptly. The guard motions for Derek to step out for a word.
Derek spreads his hands, "Give us a min-"
"Now!" the guard says with a hint of menace in his voice.
Derek frowns, "Let's talk in the hall."
Derek steps into the hall with the guard, closing the door behind him. Stephen turns back to Korbach. "Please, give me the key to the portal right now before Derek comes back in. Mr. Korbach, I am going to Thrycion. If you give me the key right now, I can protect the knowledge of how to open the portal. I have a love for Thrycion, the same as you. Please give me the key right now.
Korbach gives Stephen the portal key to Thrycion.
Thrycion - APPROACHING GRENFELL, ONE HOUR AFTER FOOTFALL
A cool breeze brushes across Bryong's cheek as she strokes the strong neck of her horse. She soothes him as she struggles to successfully ignore Kinewyn and Dromen's conversation. Their argument over kingdom politics has droned on for over an hour now and seems only now to be winding up.
"I assure you, elf, Brugon Slace will not accept an offer to buy the lumber of Grenfell's forests. Simply because you desire to do so will be enough reason for him to refuse it to you," Dromen flicks a stone from his path with his walking stick with a swift, single stroke.
Kinewyn scans the surrounding forest as he walks. "Did you find Brugon Slace to be difficult to bargain with last time you were in Grenfell? I dare say he is not one to put too much stock in traditional diplomacy, and why should he be. Grenfell is filled with monsters driven from the surrounding lands by adventurers and mercenaries and knights. He has forged a kingdom where orcs and barbarians, and liches and werewolves are considered citizens with rights and privileges. A precarious balance that your King Trajon would be unable to manage."
Azor stops and draws Klage. He spreads his feet and sweeps the mammoth blade in
front of him. Bryong circles her horse and sees the disturbance the Golon is reacting to. Leaves rustle and branches twist back before a figure flings himself from the trees onto the downward slope to the group's side. A somersault and the figure stands.
"There are Planes Walkers not half a mile from here," the ranger, Coveark, brushes dirt from his emerald cloak.
Bryong shrieks with joy, leaps from her horse and throws herself into a hug with the ranger.
"Good to have you back!" Kinewyn draws two daggers from under his cloak. "Lead on, ranger."
Dromen walks forward to greet his son but Coveark releases himself from Bryong's embrace and is up the slope again before Azor has even lowered his blade.
"Four humans, they are not native to Thrycion." Coveark speaks without looking back at the group, keeping his focus on the path ahead. His feet leave not a single blade of grass disturbed as he moves forward.
Bryong motions for Azor to shoo her horse off, to be found later, in case combat ensues when they approach the Planes Walkers. She hustles to catch up to Coveark with the rest of her bandmates and Dromen in tow.
"They killed a Korg an hour ago high up on Noenficar Mountain," Coveark slows and smiles at Azor as the giant makes his way up the path. "There is something wrong about the group. One of them is clearly a fighter, based on his movement and bearing. I cannot determine what purpose the other members of the group serve. Obviously, one of them is a sorcerer or mage since they planewalked to Thrycion."
"Curse you, Coveark. Stop," Dromen shouts and halts. "I have not seen you in three years, son. You can honor your father by acknowledging my presence. Certainly you remember all I taught you of trackless travel but you announce our approach to the Plane Walkers with your speech."
Coveark stops but does not move back toward his father.
Azor lets out a deep grumbling chuckle, “Kinewyn’s band does not sneak up on opponents when Azor accompanies them." The Golon stretches his sapphire laced hand back down the path, indicating the branches and twigs his five foot wide shoulders have sprayed to the ground.
"I am not sure why you are here father but I know why Kinewyn, my band leader, is heading toward Grenfell. I will not spare a moment of progress toward Kinewyn’s goal for whatever foolishness you wish to discuss. Now ready your sword to help us or head back to your king, father."
Kinewyn steps toward his ranger and raises a hand, "Your father has aided us, Coveark. Speak with respect to the man who raised you and taught you well."
Coveark lowers his eyes, turns and heads toward the Plane Walkers, "Over this hill and they will be in view."
Coveark crests the hill and his band mates join him.
Below walking along a well-traveled dirt path Stephen, Max, Derek and Cynthia are engaged in conversation. Azor crunches to a stop and the four gamers stop and look behind them.
Cynthia's eyes go wide and Derek shifts his pack off of his back, hand heading toward the compartment carrying his Glock. Stephen raises a hand for him to stop and steps forward. Max steps back and stumbles in a rut in the path.
Stephen raises his voice, "Greetings, citizens of Thrycion. I am Stephen... Of Earth. We mean you no harm."
Kinewyn looks to Bryong and she approaches Stephen's group with her hands outstretched.
"Everyone stay calm, she is a sorcerer. Look at the runes on her cloak and her spell component pouches. I think she is going to cast a spell on us so we can communicate," Stephen keeps his eyes on Bryong as she approaches.
Max stammers, "We can't let her cast on us." Max pulls one of the three Glock's Derek brought to Thrycion.
"Dammit, Derek. I told you not to give that to him," Stephen curses.
"Back up! Back up!" Max shouts at Bryong
Bryong stops in her tracks, "Kwee forsk tren nad feylte dweng mnoltre."
Bryong smiles, points at one of the pouches on her cloak.
Max pulls the trigger and shoots the freecaster through the shoulder. Bryong screams and Azor is in motion.
Derek and Stephen dive out of the way as the Golon charges down the small hill and hits Max full on. Max is sent flying ten feet before he hits the dirt. Every rib on the right side of his torso is broken.
"Wenksyl gorth! Wenksyl gorth!" Kinewyn shouts. Daggers appear in his hands as he walks steadily down toward the gamers and Azor. The rest of his band Dromen and Coveark begin to follow but the old elf stops their progress with a level palm directed their way.
Azor unsheathes Klage and angles it inches from Cynthia's chin. She is frozen, wide eyed and speechless.
Stephen scrambles up and immediately puts his hands out, showing clearly that they are empty.
"Stop, stop. We do not mean to harm you. I am so sorry," Stephen steps toward Kinewyn and Azor. Max groans and Derek glances to where his bag lays on the dirt path and to where Max's dropped Glock lies.
Kinewyn circles Stephen, moving him toward Azor.
Stephen raises his hands, "I have no weapons. Please, we did not come here to harm anyone."
Kinewyn’s right hand flickers and a silver dagger is replaced instantly with a small flask of blue-green glass. Bubbles pop and appear inside the flask under the cork. Kinewyn bites the cork, spits it away and squats next to Bryong. He pours the liquid, all of it, into her mouth. Bryong coughs, some of the liquid now on her chin. She sits up.
Cynthia pulls her eyes away from the gigantic blade in front of her, "Stephen, that was a healing potion."
"Yes, it was. The sorcerer is probably down between 5 and 10 hit points," Stephen answers back.
Derek shakes his head.
"Treinank qwo folch yroken mesktrinx brelg wasopert megronx cheelt protorgn," Kynewyn stands and offers a hand to Bryong as he instructs her.
Bryong takes the hand, pain evident on her face. She lets go and puts her hands on her calves, steadies herself. Then she stands.
Derek braces himself.
Bryong raises her hands. White tendrils of light flow from each of her fingers, connecting slowly to the mouths and ears of each of Stephen's group and Kinewyn’s band.
"I am Kinewyn, adventurer free of allegiance to all but my band mates. Bryong, my freecaster has made it possible for anyone within 1,000 feet of any member of your group or my group to communicate freely with each other no matter what language they speak. Who are you, Plane Walker, and why has your companion attacked one of mine?"
Stephen breathes a sigh of relief. "I am Stephen. I am from a place called Earth and I have traveled to Thrycion to see your world and know it wonders. My friend, his name is Max, was frightened by your freecaster's abilities. He attacked your band mate without reason. I am the leader of this group and I will take full responsibility for his actions."
Derek steps forward and picks up his bag from the ground.
"Coveark, come down here and give all three of your healing potions to Stephen's friend," Kinewyn places the silver dagger in his left hand back into its sheath at this waist. "I warn you, Stephen, others in Thrycion will not be so forgiving of your companion's lack of knowledge of our world and its ways. Be careful in your travels."
Azor sheathes Klage and Cynthia backs away. Kinewyn, Bryong and Azor head up the hill and wait for Coveark to finish administering the healing potions to Max. Max gulps the contents of the last healing potion and breaths hard after he has downed it.
Cynthia goes to Derek and Stephen, "We should go with them. Based on the fact that they healed Max after he shot them, they are definitely of good alignment."
Stephen nods.
"We don't know where they are going," Derek rebuts.
"Cynthia is right, Derek," Stephen’s pats his friend on the shoulder and walks up the hill.
“Kinewyn, I know this is a lot to ask. My friends and I are not aware of Thrycion's ways and having a guide as knowledgeable as yourself would be invaluable to us. Would you consider letting travel with your band, only as far as the next village or town?"
Kinewyn shakes his head. "Your friend bears a powerfu
l magical item with haste and foolishness. He would be a danger to himself and my band mates traveling to where we are going. We have healed your friend and asked nothing in return. We are not well met and we leave you and your band in peace, Stephen."
Stephen rushes back down the hill. "Are you OK, Max?"
Max smiles as he walks over to retrieve the Glock he dropped. "Never felt better."
Stephen steps in front of Max's path and picks the pistol up first. "Good, Max. Good."
Stephen runs back up the hill. “Kinewyn, this masterwork ranged weapon is yours if you let us walk with your group only to the next village or town. Max will bear no weapon as we travel."
Kinewyn looks at Stephen's extended hand. "Bryong, please tell me the nature of this object."
Bryong takes the Glock and holds it in her right hand and casts with her left. The Glock floats above her palm and glows slightly before settling again in her hand. Bryong shakes her head, "This object is not magical. It is not blessed or cursed and it does not appear to be crafted with any valuable gems or metals. I do not believe its crafting is masterwork quality. I doubt any craftsman labored even one single crest moon's span to make it."
Coveark steps forward. "And yet it felled you." Coveark takes the pistol into his hand, feeling the weight. The ranger wraps his hand around the grip.
"Whoa, whoa," Stephen steps between Coveark and Bryong. "Please, ranger, you must be proficient with this weapon before you can use it."
Kinewyn grins as Coveark switches to a gingerly grip of the pistol, "Do you wish to have this trinket, Coveark?"
Coveark does not take his eyes off of the Glock, "I do."
The old elf adjusts the line of his cloak, "Make sure you and your friends step lively, Stephen. We have much ground to cover."
Stephen rushes back down to his friends and begins to explain that they will be traveling with Kinewyn’s band.
Derek spits on the ground. He knows he has just witnessed the first of thousands of Earth/Thrycion arms deals.
Chapter 08