Chapter 9

Separate Ways

Weamar was intelligent for a Ranger. He was intelligent for any man for that matter. But most of what he knew he'd learned either on his own or through conversations with Verbrek's several hermits, a few of whom had formerly held high offices in one land or another. Verbrek was an ideal place to get away from everything, or hide if necessary. Weamar could read well enough to get by and he could write if he had to, but for the letter that he wanted to send to Jacqueline he knew that something penned by his own hand wasn't going to be good enough. He'd tried a few times to write down his thoughts but those letters had ended up looking more like hastily written ransom notes than an apology. So he hired a scribe.

"Dear Jacqueline.", Weamar began.

"Sire, is this a formal letter or a personal letter?", the scribe interrupted.

"Both really.", Weamar said, as he thought about what he wanted to say. "I guess that I shouldn't be impersonal.", he added.

The scribe nodded and Weamar carried on.

"I apologize for making you feel forced into the actions that led to our separation.", Weamar said. The scribe gave him a curious look, wondering if the Jacqueline who Weamar was writing a personal letter to was in fact the Lady Renier. Then he shrugged, figuring that it didn't matter to him, and wrote down what Weamar had said.

"I would like to make reparation insofar as I am able. Being in your employ was an enjoyable experience during which time you grew to be someone I regard as a friend, well, as much as two of such disparate stations in life could hope to be.", Weamar continued. "And that the events that led to our parting do not alter that to any degree, at least from my point of view."

The scribe looked at Weamar closely, wondering if this was some sort of joke. Such erudite speech coming from a man who looked and dressed like someone from the remotest part of Darkon didn't seem to make sense. But he was being paid to do a job and so he did as he was told.

"I request an audience with you, in the next couple of days if you are available, and willing to see me, to discuss an issue of concern to me, of which I hope you may know some history.", Weamar added as the scribe's quill stroked the page quickly and finely. "In closing I thank you for at least taking your time to read this letter. I am staying at the River's Rest and look forward to seeing you again. Signed, Weamar."

The scribe penned the last few strokes and read the letter back to his client. As he listened, Weamar had a few more reservations of the kind he had been having all day. He was worried about the tone of the letter and the requests and the exact wording, but he couldn't think of anything that he wanted to change and so he nodded and handed the scribe a gold coin for his excellent work. The scribe folded the letter neatly, slid it into an envelope, and sealed it with a wax stamp.


Weamar, David, and Marinae were surprised when after dinner they were entertained by Lynn's beautiful singing. Lynn sang all their favorite songs, sad songs about leaving home, warm songs about undying and unrequited love, and hope-filled songs about new journeys. Her voice sounded so wonderful that night and each word that she sang she sang with feeling. It was a magic night.

Eliza fell asleep a few times during Lynn's performance, and was ready for bed when she was done. Before saying one more round of goodbyes Lynn explained that they had gotten a mile or so out of town when the wobbly wheel almost fell off their cart. So they had come back into town to get it fixed. Marinae remembered the wobbly wheel all too well and was thankful that it had waited until today to give out.

When morning came Weamar handed David the letter who took it to the Lady Renier. Lynn and Eliza ate quietly and headed north to their home. At their table Weamar was more nervous than Marinae had ever seen him before and before long he rose to find something to do that would take his mind off of Jacqueline. That left Marinae alone for the first time since she had left Darkon.

At first Marinae just ignored the small man as he came around to sweep the floor. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something different about him and looked up. He was an elf, and elves were rare in Richemulot. Then she noticed something more unusual about him, he was very handsome. She let her eyes linger on his strong features a little too long and was caught off guard when the elf looked up and locked eyes with hers. Marinae didn't look away. She saw a hint of fear and a hint of panic in the man's eyes, but she also saw more than a hint of infatuation. He couldn't take his eyes off of her and his whole body seemed frozen in place.

The elf looked to be in his early twenties, which, for an elf, would make him anywhere from fifty to a hundred and fifty. He had dark blue hair, a short impish beard, and the cutest elven nose that Marinae even seen. His clothes were just simple work clothes but they looked good on him. And he seemed to carry himself in a way that said that he'd spent most of his life elsewhere. But his eyes, his eyes. Marinae couldn't break away from them as fast as she wanted to. It looked as if she was looking into two pools, one full of hope and the other despair.

"Careful, girl.", Marinae thought to herself. "It's the pretty ones who cause the most trouble."

Rambis climbed up out of Marinae's lap and looked around, wondering why his mistress' mind had suddenly gone blank.

Marinae kept her cool and nodded a polite, courtly greeting to the newcomer. Her smile broke the spell, but only for a moment. The elf tried to go back to sweeping, but his eyes kept drifting back towards her. Marinae watched without actually watching and wondered where Kiri was at the moment.

"That bitch.", Marinae thought as she looked around. But there was no one else in the room.

Rambis spotted the elf looking at Marinae. "Uh oh.", he said absently.

"Hush, cat. I'm wary.", Marinae whispered.

"Hmm.", Rambis said and went to investigate.

Rambis hopped down to the floor, then he walked towards the elf, stretching for a moment in mid-journey. The elf looked down at the approaching cat, who sniffed at him curiously. He reached down to pet the furry feline but Rambis moved away from his hand as he did so, sniffing at his shoes and pants. The elf reached down once more but again Rambis moved away, sniffing curiously at something that he'd found.

"Well?", Marinae thought to Rambis anxiously.

"Siamese.", Rambis replied. "No, maybe Persian."

Marinae shot a pained look at the cat and put her palm to forehead with her elbow on table. The elf looked down at the cat and gently pushed him away with the broom, giving Rambis a little nudge in the rump as he left.

Annoyed by such treatment, Rambis trotted back to Marinae. "Of all the indignities...", he huffed.

"Checking his messages, no doubt.", Marinae said to the elf apologetically. "My apologies for his being in the way."

The elf stared at Marinae once more, as if her voice was like music to his ears. He nervously approached her and shook his head, "No apology is necessary."

"I could almost believe I'm the only one of the Fair Folk in this land.", Marinae began, trying to make conversation. "Until now, of course." She added with an ironic half-smile.

"I've seen few others, and I'm far from home.", the elf said sadly. "My name is Adraiss. May I ask what is yours?"

Less formally, but in elvish Marinae replied, "Marinae."

"Marinae.", Adraiss said, almost in awe of her sweet sounding name. "Marinae.", he whispered to himself.

Marinae was amused by his reaction, but in proper fashion, of course, offered him only a quiet smile.

"You're new to Pont-a-Museau aren't you Marinae?", Adraiss asked. "I haven't seen you before."

Marinae considered her reply. She'd never really come up with a plain, uncomplicated cover story to tell other elves that would keep them from being nosy. And she didn't want to tell the truth either. She was Highborn, a noble, that much was obvious. She dressed expensively and talked like a noble although only another elf would notice the latter. Adraiss talked like a noble too, but not like one from Darkon. He dressed like a commoner and thus was a mystery to Marinae.

"Hmm. There is perhaps a story in this one, as well?", Marinae wondered. "An ignoble Noble?"

The innkeeper came out from the back room. "Don't bother the clients.", he called out to Adraiss.

"He is no bother, sir.", Marinae called back.

"He'll be a bother to me if he doesn't finish cleaning that floor.", the innkeeper replied.

Adraiss shrugged and went back to his sweeping. Rambis hopped up off the floor out of the way of his broom.

Marinae favored the innkeeper with a cool expression that showed her nobility. "Kindly do not take that tone with me.", she said curtly. "I invited him to talk to me. I have seen no elves here other than him."

"Please, Marinae.", Adraiss said quietly, once again saying her name reverently. "I want to keep this job, as filthy as it is."

"He plays 'The Game' well.", Marinae noted, but she pushed back against her desire to free him from his accursed master. She wasn't going to fall for the same trick twice. "I've got to stop taking on hopeless cases.", she thought to herself. "It only gets me into more trouble!"

Adraiss began sweeping the floor around Marinae's table as Marinae reached for her coin-purse and tossed a copper piece to the innkeeper.

"Here.", Marinae said to the innkeeper. "This should reimburse you for your time. Though I must say that your manners toward a paying customer leave something to be desired."

Marinae nodded to Adraiss and glided back to her room to prepare to leave. Adraiss watched her go with that look of hope and despair in his eyes but said nothing. As Marinae glanced back she half hoped that he would get fired so that she would have a reason to talk to him some more. Then she ascended the stairs, packed up all of her things and headed to the stables. On her way out she saw Adraiss sweeping off the front steps. They looked clean, but he was still sweeping them.

"You missed a spot.", Marinae said with a wry grin.

Adraiss looked down, then put his hand to his head as he realized that he'd been had. "Marinae.", he said fondly again with a smile. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Perhaps. I have friends in this area.", Marinae answered. "I do not expect to be gone long."

"Then I shall work here until you return, Marinae.", Adraiss said happily. "So you'll know where to find me."

Marinae gave him a curtsey, and with no trace of mockery in courtly elvish she said, "Then, young m'lord, I shall endeavor to return forthwith."

Adraiss smiled and gazed into her eyes.

"Stay out of trouble!", Marinae called back to him as she reluctantly turned away and went to the stables, wondering the whole way if she looked presentable.

"Dammit. There's that unmended tear in my vest.", she admonished herself silently. "And I'm certain that my face is blotchy from drinking too much ale and getting too little sleep."

Adraiss watched the woman who he had fallen in love with as she went to the stables and then as she rode away. He knew that she would return one day and that gave him a reason to hope.

"Wait a minute.", Marinae became angry with herself a few miles down the road. "Why the hell am I getting flustered over a man?"

Rambis thought up a clever reply but held it back.

"Because, he's a puzzle.", Marinae answered herself. "A princeling in peasant's garb."

Marinae thought about the way Adraiss looked at her. The affection in his eyes was far deeper than anything Jonathan had ever mustered. Adraiss was truly in love with her, that much she knew. But doubts rose in her mind. If she fell for another one of Kiri's tricks she would never forgive herself. So Marinae decided to leave it where it sat. If he was still there when she returned then that would be proof. But proof of what she didn't know.


Weamar hated waiting, but now he could do nothing else. He didn't have to wait long, although it seemed like an eternity until he received Jacqueline's reply the following morning. All that day he had wondered how she would reply. He had kept his body busy by practicing his fighting, cleaning himself up, and playing with Cujia, but he couldn't take his mind off of Jacqueline. He feared that she would be angry at him for what he had done. He half-expected a few of her soldiers to show up at his door and drag him off to her dungeon. He even flinched when he heard the knock at his door and was relieved to find a young courier carrying Jacqueline's response. After generously paying the young boy a few silver pieces, Weamar chided himself for being so tense and excitable, but he couldn't help feeling nervous as he stared at the envelope. Weamar opened the letter and quickly looked down the page to see how she had signed it. He'd hoped that she would have written her first name, as he had done, and that their relationship was still personal. But instead she had signed her formal title. Weamar sighed sadly and read the letter.

"Dear Weamar.", the letter began. "No apologies are necessary and no reparations are needed. You served me well and I have no regrets regarding your exemplary service to me. I do regret not being able to grant your request for an audience. However, I feel that we each have knowledge of certain issues that would benefit us both to share. If you would be so kind as to tell me everything you know of Henri DuBois, the man whose face you share, I will tell you everything that I can about what it is that you desire to know."

Weamar sighed again and looked out the window into the street. He saw a number of young boys wearing white blankets as cloaks play-fighting with each other with wooden swords. He felt as confused and out of place as he ever had and felt a strong desire to return home to Verbrek and forget about everything. But he knew that now he couldn't even do that anymore, and so he wondered what to do.


Marinae reached Chateunoir just after Lynn and Eliza did. She had spotted their cart on the road just before night fell, following them at a discreet distance and making sure to stay at a different inn. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them, it was that she didn't want anyone to know that she was going to Darkon. She wanted everyone to think that she was setting up a tavern somewhere in Richemulot. That way no one would try to talk her out of going back and warning the Darkonese about Drakov. She was an exile, and she knew that she was putting her freedom at risk by going back home. Still, she felt that it was something that she had to do.

The next morning Marinae made sure to leave before Lynn and Eliza. She reached Port-a-Lucine a few hours before nightfall and made her way down to the wharf at Pernault Bay. There she found that there was a ship leaving for Ludendorf in two days time. From Ludendorf she could take another ship to Martira Bay and after that it would be a three day ride to Neblus. So with some time to kill she decided to drop in on Aselid, her mentor who had abruptly left her in Nova Vaasa a few weeks earlier. He'd never given an explanation for his departure and she hadn't heard anything from him since. But Marinae hadn't been in the most accessible places during those weeks, and so wasn't surprised that Aselid hadn't gotten a message to her.

Marinae knocked on the wizard's door and found Aselid at home, as busy as ever, but very happy to see her.

"Come in, come in!", Aselid said warmly. "I was wondering where you'd gone."

Marinae let her reserve down and beamed. "I've been just about everywhere, it seems.", she replied, happy to see the old man again. All her problems always seemed solvable when she was with Aselid.

Aselid scratched his beard and nodded. "I went back to Kantora, but they said that you'd left.", he said. "Well, no matter. We can continue where we left off."

Aselid led Marinae to his study where they both settled into some very comfortable chairs. Marinae talked nearly a mile a minute, giving Aselid a condensed version of everything that she'd been through over the last month. Aselid listened carefully, considering every word. Though very old, his mind was as sharp as ever.

"I came very close to death, in that last battle.", Marinae finished on a grim note.

"I'm glad that you did not. Very glad.", Aselid said. "But I always knew that you were a survivor."

"To be honest, Teacher, I had my doubts.", Marinae continued. "It is troubling, though, that I was completely fooled by that, she-elf. I do not like the desire for revenge..."

"Did you use your mind reading spells?", Aselid interrupted.

"It's unethical!", Marinae erupted. "Until I was aware of the betrayal, I had no right to do such a thing."

Then Marinae felt embarrassed about using such a tone of voice in front of her mentor and softened her tone. "Now, I have no need to use it on you, or on any of my friends, without consent.", she added. Then she stopped and looked up into Aselid's eyes. "We've had this argument before, Teacher. I know you disagree."

"Yes, well, but given the situation, Jonathan, or a real elf, would have understood.", Aselid countered.

"I would be less than understanding.", Marinae replied.

"But consider where you were.", Aselid pointed out.

"I had no reason to doubt him.", Marinae said in her defense. "Well, perhaps he charmed me."

Marinae had left out the details of the relationship that she felt Aselid didn't need to know about when she had told him her story, but Aselid was more than able to figure out what had happened and why Marinae was so defensive.

"You should have thought that Kendra would have sent a spy along.", Aselid said thoughtfully. "To make sure that you didn't run off with the Hands of Balican."

"My people have a saying, 'After-sight is perfect'.", Marinae replied.

"Indeed it is.", Aselid added. "So, you made a deal with Kendra then?"

"Reluctantly, yes.", Marinae answered, hoping that she wasn't about to find out that she had done something horrible.

"What were the details, if I might ask?", the old man asked.

"She offered information about Drakov.", Marinae began. "She claims that he is planning an attack."

"Drakov is always planning an attack.", Aselid replied.

"We know, umm, Darkon is well aware of his designs.", Marinae continued, realizing that 'we' was a word that she could no longer use when talking about the Darkonese. "But I still don't want to risk their being unprepared. Even as an exile, Aselid, they're still my people."

"He might have something new up his sleeve.", the sorcerer replied, thinking deeply. "Did Kendra say anything about what he might be trying to do?"

"She implied that Drakov has spies in Darkon. Saboteurs, preparing an invasion.", Marinae answered. "She asked me: 'Do you wish that the elves stare into Drakov's evil face before they realize that they should have risen up to stop him?'."

"It may be true, it may not. But Kendra wanted you to make another deal with her.", Aselid concluded. "That is her way. That is how she becomes stronger."

"She stands to gain no matter what the outcome of any of her deals.", Marinae said with an air of both admiration and disgust. "Dark elves aren't stupid, no matter how the rest of us like to think so."

"Yes.", Aselid agreed. "They are some of the best sorcerers in the world."

"She was much more powerful than I.", Marinae said quietly. She wondered if she could ever be so powerful and if she ever wanted to if it meant becoming more like Kendra.

Aselid nodded and leaned back in his chair. As he did so Marinae took the time to look around Aselid's study for the first time since she had come in. She spied a piece of parchment on his desk. It was a letter from the church of Ezra regarding a summons.

"May I?", Marinae said, pointing to the letter.

"As it concerns you, you may.", Aselid replied.

Marinae looked at Aselid quizzically, then picked up the parchment. The summons didn't give many details, but the gist of it was that the church was investigating a matter of great concern and had obtained Lord Dominic's permission to question Aselid for his involvement in it.

"What sort of investigation?", Marinae asked. "Who are they after?"

"Hmm?", Aselid asked. Then he cleared his throat. "Oh yes, that summons is rather vague. It seems that the church has come to believe that I was involved in a plot to bring a demon back from the nether world when in fact the opposite is true."

"I will see them in a few days and clear this whole thing up.", Aselid said without much concern.

"Is it about your own little side adventure?", Marinae said, chiding him about how he left her.

"Perhaps.", Aselid answered. "When we were in Nova Vaasa I sensed that someone had breached my wards. I returned at once to find that my gem and the book were missing. Fortunately nothing else was taken."

"One of the five gems?", Marinae said with a start. "We still have ours, as far as I know."

"Yes, and I am glad that I divided them among us or else someone would now be able to bring that monster back.", Aselid replied. "I hope that you have hidden yours in a safe place."

Marinae had forgotten about the gem. It was still in one of her saddlebags. She was about to say something when Aselid cut her off.

"And don't tell me where it is, or anyone else.", Aselid added. "Someone might go to extreme measures to try to find them."

Marinae thought for a moment about what Aselid meant by "extreme measures" and then reached the conclusion that she didn't want to think about that again.

"Well then. It seems that Fate doesn't want me going to Darkon.", Marinae said reluctantly. "I was going to retire after I was done there."

"Retire?", Aselid said incredulously. "But you are still young! And you have much left to learn about the ways of magic."

"I'm tired, Aselid.", Marinae explained. "Tired of getting bitten and beaten and hacked and broken."

"Well, one doesn't need to get into fights to study magic.", Aselid replied.

"And who was it who taught me combative magics?", Marinae chided him again, this time playing it up with her arms folded and a pointed look at Aselid.

"Which is why you should stay here and study.", Aselid offered, then he thought for a while.

"You're still good at getting yourself into trouble.", Marinae pointed out, but Aselid was deep in thought.

"Or maybe that's not such a good idea.", Aselid said, resuming his previous line of thought. "If someone is looking for those stones, they may come after you."

"Oe the others...", Marinae said, thinking especially of Eliza and Lynn riding all alone in their cart. "I bet I have to fight again."

"They would be in danger too.", Aselid replied. "But we need to know how much the ones who have the book know and if they know to whom I gave the other stones."

"Well, I can get word to them easily enough.", Marinae suggested.

"I don't know if it would be good or bad for you to stay here with me.", Aselid said regretfully. "Maybe it would be better if you went to Darkon for a time."

"Still, we should send them a note.", Marinae said. "And then I can go."


Weamar stared at the letter. Things couldn't have been any worse. He didn't know a thing about Henri DuBois other than that he looked exactly like the man and that Henri had been born nearly a century earlier. Weamar thought about something that Lynn had said when they had found Jacqueline's locket. That maybe the man had been his father. Weamar hadn't replied to her since he had no idea who his father was. Weamar had asked his step-father about his parents once. His step-father had gruffly replied, "Ask the Green Man.", almost like that was the punch line to a joke. At the time Weamar thought that his step-father was just being an asshole about it, but after meeting the Green Man a few times he wondered if the old druid knew the details about Weamar's past. The old druid always seemed to treat him like a nephew.

Weamar considered his options and decided that Verbrek still seemed like the best place for him to go. He didn't have anything to tell Jacqueline, but figured that he had to send something to her so that she wouldn't think that he'd disappeared off the face of the earth.

Weamar composed a short response, paid the scribe, and left, wishing that he had more to say. He went back to the River's Rest, gathered his gear, and then headed out to the stables. Everything was in order, and Dry and Cujia were fit to travel. As he got on the road Weamar was relieved to be headed home, but the more he though about it, the more worried he became about what had befallen his homeland. And he was surprised by how sad he felt about separating from his friends.

Traveling at a leisurely pace Weamar made it to Mortingy by nightfall of the following day. He passed close to the majestic maple tree next to which he had buried the gem that Aselid had given him, but decided not to dig it up. He wondered how safe it was there, remembering back to his first adventure and how deftly one of Rastinon's servants had gathered up all five gems. But he couldn't think of a better place for it and so he left it there. The next day Weamar was in Verbrek. The lush forests looked the same way as they did over a year ago. It was as if he had never left.

"Ah, the smell of the forests of Verbrek.", Weamar said breathing deeply. "No other forests smell quite so, so, natural."

Weamar knew that he was home again.

A little further down the road Weamar stopped in Rolling Fork. He intended to rest, but also decided to find out what the latest news was around town. Weamar was in luck. There was going to be a town meeting that night. The topic was something about land disputes in the eastern forests not far from Gladehaven. Weamar resolved to attend. He'd always avoided such functions in the past, but this time he had a good reason to go. He also wanted to see how hairy some of the proponents were, and if he recognized any of them as being the men he saw in Kendra's castle.

Weamar booked himself a room in an inn. As he walked around town he got a creepy feeling, a feeling that maybe some of the people whom he was walking past were werewolves pretending to be human. He wondered if he would ever feel safe in Verbrek again. As he walked the streets, Weamar was recognized and welcomed by a few of the townsfolk. All the men in Verbrek seemed to have a lot of facial hair, something which didn't put him at ease.

Weamar greeted those who recognized him in kind. He made small talk when he had to but kept it very small, staying away from things like werewolves and forest disputes. After dinner Weamar showed up at the meeting. The dispute in question seemed to involve logging in the eastern woods near the Borcan border. At one point during the meeting an angry woodsman stood up and openly accused one of the better dressed men of selling out to Borcan merchants.

"The woods are not yours to do as you will with them!", the angry woodsman shouted. "They belong to all Verbrekers, and we must take care of them."

"Trees grow back you know.", the well dressed man sneered.

The crowd grumbled and the mayor called the meeting to order. The discussion settled down after that. The two sides were arguing over where the actual property lines were. It seemed that the woodsman's side, which was by far the most popular side was on the losing end. The few, more well dressed men, were going to win their claim. Weamar wasn't happy about that, but he could see little chance of doing much about it, especially if the woods were being logged within privately held property. And although the law was loosely defined in the wilds of Verbrek, the people respected it since without the law there would be chaos.

Weamar made conversation with a few of the other townsfolk after the issue was settled. Weamar wanted to make idle chit-chat, but the others wanted to talk about the decision and how wrong it was. During those talks Weamar learned that after what happened at Gladehaven, some Borcan merchants came in and bought up much of the land in the eastern part of Verbrek along the border with Borca. The price that they paid was low, but the people who owned it had wanted to leave, so they settled for a lot less than it was worth.

Weamar feigned ignorance about Gladehaven. "I've been away for over a year.", he said sheepishly.

"It was horrible.", a man who Weamar had met a few times before told him. "A whole town full of werewolves posing at humans. Makes you wonder doesn't it?"

"It does.", Weamar said innocently. "I used to occasionally trade furs out of Gladehaven. It seemed a peaceable enough place."

The man nodded. "Peaceable by day...", he said grimly.

Weamar wondered who a town 'full' of werewolves would have been unpeaceable towards. The cover story didn't make sense to him.

"So there were at least some non-werewolves there, then?", Weamar asked.

"That's what some say, but I don't believe it.", the man replied.

"So what happened?", Weamar asked. "A town full of werewolves sounds difficult to deal with."

"The White Knights. That's what happened.", the man said reverently. "Cleaned them all out."

Weamar whistled softly. "Impressive.", he added.

"As far as I'm concerned they can do the same to all of Verbrek.", the man said. "And make it safe around here."

Weamar agreed with him that feeling safe was very important. He didn't need to think twice about that given his own run in with werewolves over a year ago.

"Here in the north it isn't so bad, but in the south...", the man continued. "They need help."

"Trouble with werewolves there too?", Weamar said, probing the man for information. "Verbrek has always had a little trouble with wolves and their near-kin. It sounds like it has gone from little to much."

"We've lost a few in recent days, down near Filfot and Tricco.", the man said nodding. "I hope that the Knights are headed that way."

Weamar wasn't sure he shared that sentiment, but nodded in agreement anyway. He tapped his sword hilt. "I might wander that way myself.", he said confidently. "I might be of some small use."

"Fancy being a Knight yourself?", the man asked. "More power to you."

Weamar smiled. "Heh, no, I don't have the temperament to be led.", he replied in all honesty. "But I have some skills that may be useful to them."

"Bring me back a werewolf hide then my friend.", the man said and turned to leave.

Weamar grinned and bid the man farewell. Then he had a quick look around the meeting hall, to see what else was happening, and to see if anyone suddenly looked away at his glance. Weamar noticed that one of the well dressed men was looking at him, but not in a threatening way. As Weamar met his gaze the man looked away. Weamar took note of his appearance for possible future reference.

Back at the inn, Weamar had an ale or two while he warmed himself by the fireplace in the tavern. He lost himself in thought, wondering if the logging near Gladehaven was simply opportunism on the Borcan's behalf, or something more sinister. He stared into the flames, trying to figure everything out. He was glad to be home in Verbrek, but it all seemed so different now, so busy, like the cities that he wanted to get away from. He finished his ale and went to bed.

Dawn broke over Rolling Fork and Weamar left early in the morning for Gladehaven. He figured that it would take less than a half a day to get there and wanted to make sure that he got back into town before nightfall. He traveled down a well worn path that was the closet thing that Verbrek had to being a road until he got to Siel. Then he headed east into the forest.

The trail leading to Gladehaven was easy enough for him to follow. By noon Weamar had come to the shore of Festen Pool. He rode to the northern end of the lake and found himself in Gladehaven before he knew it. All around him lay the burnt remains of a village. Weamar rode slowly through the carnage. Then he dismounted and stepped through the ruins of some of the larger homes. The village was small and most of what the people owned was destroyed by the fire, but Weamar found the occasional silver or copper piece or the metal end of a tool in the ruins. In the center of the village Weamar found a large pile of bones, the remains of the village's inhabitants, black with charred flesh. Poking up through the ashes were a few blades of grass, reminding Weamar that life goes on.

Weamar signed heavily and then noticed a man sitting on a large rock near the shore not far away. He was staring out at the lake deep in thought. Weamar approached the man, making no attempt to mask his footfalls. The man turned to look at who was there. He squinted just for a moment.

"Weamar?", the man asked.

Weamar recognized the thirty-something hermit with a big bushy beard. It was Rikard.

Rikard d'Avignon was the closest thing that Weamar had to a friend in Verbrek. Like Weamar, he was a loner, choosing to spend his life living off the land in the forests of Verbrek and shunning civilization of any kind. Weamar and Rikard would run into each other every so often, maybe once or twice every year. When they did they would sit around a campfire and discuss politics and philosophy, enjoying each other's company, but never feeling comfortable about being with someone. They didn't agree on very much, but they both felt strongly that the farther away they were from the madness of the crowd the better.

Rikard had studied the ways of the Druids and enjoyed being one with nature, but it hadn't always been that way with him. In one of their talks Weamar had learned that Rikard was the son of a wealthy Borcan merchant. Rikard had followed in his father's footsteps, learning the art of making money and witnessing the all the double dealing and corruption that came with the trade. But one day he had had enough, and threw it all away for a life as a hermit. Rikard never told Weamar what led him to make that decision, and Weamar never asked, but Weamar sensed that it was something big.

"Rikard!", Weamar exclaimed. "Long time no see."

"Weamar.", Rikard replied vigorously. He got down off the rock and walked over to the ranger with a big smile on his face. "How are you doing you old dog you?"

"Struggling on regardless, same as always.", Weamar said with a smile. "You?"

"Angry.", Rikard said as the smile fell from his face.

"Because of this mess?", Weamar said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the remains of the village.

Rikard nodded. "This was the kind of thing that I ran away from.", he said gravely. "The bastards."