The Broken Sword

"It seems awfully dead up there," Bobo muttered to himself, pausing and studying the gatehouse.

"Looks like a great place for a monster lair," Gregory commented, studying the tower and the total lack of plant life around it.

Nathanial took a deep breath and sat down on the ground with his legs crossed in front of him; the classic pose of meditation. Bobo glanced back at him and frowned, then looked to Gregory for an explanation.

"He gets like that before a big fight, some religious channeling thing or something," Gregory said, shrugging. "It's best to just go with it, he gets cranky when you question him too much."

Bobo smiled and nodded, letting the seemingly odd idiosyncrasy slide from his list of worries. He reached down to the device on his arm and cranked the hammers back on each barrel. He loosened his cutlass in his scabbard, the same cutlass that Halidor had given him after he used it to "fix" Bobo's arm several years back, and walked towards the tower. Gregory pulled out his wand from a pocket and held it stretched in front of him, ready to use.

"What are you going to do with that, poke somebody's eye out?" Bobo asked after looking back and seeing Gregory wielding the thing wooden stick.

"This is my wand, through it I cast my magic," Gregory replied indignantly.

Bobo snorted. "Some magic, all the wizards I know chant some words, wave their hands, and things happen. Or, in the case of my mother, she can just make a simple gesture... or less, and cause her spells to take shape."

"Everybody's magic works differently," Gregory replied, irritation in his whispered voice. "By channeling mine through my wand I can invoke powerful spells faster."

Bobo rolled his eyes but accepted the wizard's statement. He glanced back and saw Nathanial walking towards them, looking very grim and determined. Then he saw Nathanial's gaze go past them at the same time his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of shifting rock behind him. He spun about and saw the mountain wyrm that made its lair in the tower rushing towards them.

Gregory snapped his wand forward and spat out a couple of syllables that made absolutely no sense to anyone but him. The wand responded though, sending out an arc of flames that crashed into the creature as it tried to rush through them. It screeched and backed away hurriedly, waiting until a few seconds later when the spell ended and the flames burnt out. It roared and tensed to lunge forward again.

Nathanial was there then, leaping through the air and bringing a fist crashing down on the snout of the wyrm. He kicked off of it and spun in mid air to land solidly on the ground, the wyrm turning to regard him as its new target. The air echoed then as Bobo pulled both triggers on his arm, sending two bullets exploding out of the barrels and at the beast. One veered high, narrowly missing, while the other slammed into the wyrm just behind it's head, tearing a hole in its scales that dripped a dark red blood.

The wyrm turned back to Bobo and Gregory, giving Nathanial a chance to lash out with his foot and kick it in the side of the face. The wyrm was confused by so many attacks coming from so many different directions, and in the end decided to attack the enemy closest to it. It leapt sideways at Nathanial, catching him completely off guard and wrapping as much of its 20 foot long body around him as possible. It contracted and tried to squeeze the life of out him, using its many legs for purchase against the shifting rocks.

Nathanial gasped in pain but fought the only way he knew how, by bringing his fists down in powerful punches on the back of the creature, trying to shatter its spine through its thick scales and hide. His blows had little effect.

Bobocateya ran forward, his cutlass in his hand slashing down at the neck of the wyrm. The thick scales turned the sharp blade aside with little more then a scratch to show for his efforts. He struck repeatedly, trying again and again to use the curved blade against it.

The wyrm took notice of him finally and tripped him with one leg, sending him sprawling backwards. It stretched its head out towards him, fanged maw opening. Gregory snapped his arm forward and chanted another command word. The air in front of the wand shimmered and contracted, stealing Gregory's breath from him for a second, then it flung forward, rocketing into the mouth of the wyrm. With sound of air being loudly knocked from someone's lungs the heavily condensed ball of air returned to normal size and volume. The wyrm's head exploded, absorbing the majority of the explosion, yet enough over-pressure remained to send Bobo rolling away and to pick Nathanial up out of the dying wyrm's clutches and propel him through the air nearly ten feet.

Nathanial picked himself up first, hopping from his back to his feet with a fluid movement. He saw the final twitches of the mountain wyrm and saw Bobo struggling to regain his feet as well. Other then bumps, bruises, and scrapes they appeared uninjured. He hurried back and to his companions and watched as Bobo pulled some things out of a pouch at his side and slid them into the barrels of his pistol. A few moments later he turned to face Nathanial and the monk saw blood ran from the Prince's ear. The pressure from Gregory's spell had ruptured his ear drum.

Nathanial moved closer and called upon the blessings of Alto, resting his hand on a hesitant Bobo's ear. When he pulled his hand away the blood was dried and flaking away. Bobo grinned and brushed it away. "I can hear again, my thanks!" he said, clapping Nathanial on the shoulder with his good hand.

"And you, I offer my apologies if I insulted your wizardry, that was a very neat trick!" Gregory beamed at the praise.

"Let us hurry, something may come to investigate the noise," Nathanial said, glancing around nervously. Bobo nodded, heading forward. Gregory glanced at the dead wyrm and then the tower and scrambled forward excitedly.

"What's he doing?" Bobo asked when the enchanter had passed both of them and disappeared into the tower.

"Probably thinks that thing had some treasure. He grew up with a money hungry merchant as a father and his profession requires a lot of expensive supplies, so he's a little greedy at times," Nathanial spoke softly so his words would not carry.

Bobo looked at him, one eyebrow cocked in surprise.

"Oh, don't worry, he won't deny us our share of anything that is there," Nathan said, misinterpreting Bobo's look. Bobo just shook his head and chuckled.

"As much as I want you both to look upon me as just a companion, perhaps I should remind him of who he is traveling with. If he wants for money I can easily remedy the situation when we return."

Nathanial shrugged. "It's in his nature. As for me, I have only what I need. Anything else is unneeded. Perhaps a sizeable donation to my church if the opportunity presents itself."

Bobo nodded. He had never wanted for material things, so he had less true appreciation for wealth then most people did. He had little appreciation for religion as well, however, so amongst the three of them each man was alone. By the time the two were about to enter the doorway to the tower, which resembled a gaping hole in the side of the building far more then a door anymore, Gregory was emerging from it with a faint scowl on his face.

"Nothing?" Nathan asked.

Gregory shook his head. "At least the beast was smart enough to bury its waste."

Bobo raised his eyebrows, thankful he had not been the one to go digging for it. Still Gregory seemed clean enough. "Let us be off then, scavengers can not be far away."

They camped that night using the side of a large boulder and a mound of rubble from a long ago landslide as shelter. No fire was necessary, they had enough jerked meat to keep them full and the temperature in southern Belurian was tropical throughout most of the year.

In the morning a fresh challenge awaited them. Scarcely fifteen minutes out from their campsite a wyvern spotted them as it hunted high above them. Nathan glanced up, noticing a strange shadow as he looked over the edge of the worn and ancient rock bridge they crossed. Hundreds of feet below a large river flowed. The bridge itself was far from natural, but it having survived thousands of years was a testimony to the skill and strength it had been fashioned with.

"Watch out!" Nathan cried, leaping into both of his companions and sending them rolling to the ground. The wyvern's grasping claws clicked shut on empty air, but it still managed to tear a deep gouge into Gregory's calf as it passed.

Nathan and Bobo were back on their feet, Bobo aiming as the wyvern soared back into the air. It was out of range before he could fire on it, however. It circled high in the air and came rocketing back down, diving with a frightful speed. Both men held their ground, prepared to lash out and dodge out of the way, full well understanding and accepting the consequences of a half second's miscalculation in their timing.

Gregory sat up and aimed his wand at the rapidly approaching wyvern. He performed a new rotating and twitching maneuver with the stick and spat out a single arcane word. A stream of shimmering light erupted from the tip of the wand and struck the wyvern squarely in the face, stunning it with the bright lights and multiple images. Confused, the wyvern struggled to make sense of the chaotic visions and plummeted straight towards them.

Gregory cursed as he forced his bleeding leg to support his weight while scrambling out of the way. Nathanial and Bobo, not understanding what was happening stayed in place until they realized the wyvern was out of control. Both flung themselves away but Nathanial was what the wyvern had been aiming for. One of the reptilian bird's wings clipped him as he dove, sending him rolling towards the edge only seconds before the wyvern crashed into the bridge at a high rate of speed, snapping multiple bones and dislodging a large chunk of the side of the bridge into the abyss over the river. Nathanial scrambled to find purchase on the rock and ended up grabbing onto the ledge with his fingertips, grunting in pain as his full weight rested on them. He swung over the river hundreds of feet below and dared not look down.

Bobo was there then, grabbing on to his arm and easily lifting the 190 pound man up and onto the bridge with only his one arm. It was not until Nathanial's feet were back on solid ground and he peered over the edge that he realized what Bobo had done for him and to him.

"How strong are you?" He asked incredulously.

Bobo opened his mouth to respond but stopped as he noticed the red stain spreading from a tear in Nathan's robes at his hip. "You're injured,' he said instead, pointing.

Nathanial glanced down at himself and groaned. He pulled his robes aside and noticed that the wyverns wing had cut quite a gash through his robes and hip. Nothing life threatening if properly bandaged, but potentially crippling. Then again, it was good to be a priest...

A few moments of quiet meditation later and Nathanial stood up, seemingly without injury. He moved over to Gregory and prayed for the power to heal his friend, which Alto deemed worthy, for the wound on his calf closed over and bled no more.

"Where were you when I lost my hand," the prince said, chuckling as both men were on their feet and ready to proceed.

"Learning how to do that," Nathanial responded, looking around suspiciously. "Let us make haste, we are in the open here and Alto does not favor me with spells so much as strength of arms."

"Well then, let us test your strength of foot," Bobo said, jogging at a brisk pace ahead on the trail. Nathaniel chuckled and followed after, leaving a cursing Gregory to try and keep up the pace they set. In moments Gregory was ready to kill them both, if he would have had the strength to catch up.

Nothing else assailed them the rest of the afternoon. They stood at the base of a shimmering blue wall of light, studying it carefully. Gregory, in particular, took quite an interest in it. The road they had been on showed more and more signs of manufacturing the closer they got. At the edge of the curtain of light it was apparent that it had once been made of cobblestones, though now they showed the signs of age.

"What now?" Nathanial asked, watching behind them.

"Now we find out just how much elf there is in me," Bobo muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"You're afraid you won't be able to enter?" Gregory seconded, understanding what Bobo meant.

"Aye, this wall was specifically designed at forbidding elves from crossing through it, other races are only restricted from leaving. If too much of my father's blood runs in me I will be denied entry," Bobo explained.

"Well, if you can't get in this trip is for naught, you're the one who knows the most about what is going on," Nathan said.

Bobo nodded. "Yes, so let us find out, shall we?"

Without waiting for a reply he stepped forward, pushing through the light with a look of intense concentration on his face. He seemed to struggle for a moment, pushing harder and harder until he disappeared into the light.

Nathanial and Gregory looked to each other, wondering at just how successful he had been. "Well, let's hope he wasn't just disintegrated," Gregory said, stepping forward and easily walking through the magical curtain.

Nathanial stared after him for a long moment before finally muttering, "I could have done without that thought." Trusting in Alto's wisdom to guide him, he stepped forward into the light.

Chapter 7

"Mistress!" Barked one of her scouts. The language they spoke, gutturally, only barely resembled the elvish of modern or ancient times. It had been twisted and modified to fit the vocal abilities of the doguren.

"Visitors, Mistress, visitors come to your realm!" He finished, yapping excitedly as he did so. Kalista smiled down at him and dismissed him, waving her arms in the air before her and causing the very air to shimmer and part in front of her, displaying the scene at the entrance of the city.

Three men stood taking in the sights. They had moved into the city only a little bit, studying everything with meticulous detail. Two of them seemed to be growing tired of it already, however, yet a third remained fascinated by everything. She studied them, learning what she could simply by looking at them.

They were strange to her, they looked similar to ogres, yet they were smaller then she remembered. She wondered if the curse had made the race of ogres fall so far from their one time grandeur. They wore strange clothing too, as well as an overabundance of it. The one that seemed to be in the lead had black hair and... she gasped. He looked like an elf. The facial features and eyes of an elf, a strikingly familiar elf, she realized, yet there was a fullness to him and a way that he moved that marked him as separate from the elven race. She must know more about them.

"Bring them to me," she called out, turning to the general of the doguren. Then she added, "as honored guests, unharmed and willing."

The dog-man growled his assent and nodded to her, turning and barking out orders to those nearest him. They hurried out of the hall, gathering up a patrol of doguren to greet the visitors. Kalista studied the image of the visitors as they methodically explored the city, leaving nothing behind as they moved forward. Soon she would know all she needed to know of them; they would tell her or they would die. Only one person had denied her so far, and that was a recent arrival that she knew was within Thoragloorin but for some reason she could not find them.

*****

The three companions traveled into the city slowly, taking care to check as much as they could before proceeding. Still, the city was immense; greater than anything they had ever seen in any of their lives. Exploring it all would take months. It was several long minutes before Gregory would even leave the entrance to the city, so caught up was he in examining everything he saw.

Five thousand years had passed but the city was in immaculate condition. Buildings looked to have been abandoned only moments before they arrived, and no dust could be found anywhere. Magic was heavy in the air, both from the seal separating Thoragloorin from Viconia and from the magic that made the city what it was: the pinnacle of architectural achievement by the elven people. Innowendyn was breathtaking and beautiful, but all three were stunned by the artistry and elegance that was Thoragloorin.

"Gregory, it's time to stop gawking," Bobo said over his shoulder. Unseen Gregory scowled at the interruption. Nathanial and the Prince did not understand how important this was to his work.

"One second," Gregory said, studying the fountain in the small grass courtyard of an inn.

"No, right now, we have guests," Nathanial said quietly but intently.

"Oh," Gregory said, straightening up rapidly and turning around.

A single figure approached them, wearing chain mail designed to fit its strange form. All three men studied it carefully, trying to figure out just what it was they faced. Finally Bobo figured it out.

"Doguren!" he hissed."But much larger then they were supposed to be. The ancients had tamed a race of intelligent wolves, no different then the hunting hounds used by men today, but they used their magic to make them more useful, increasing their intelligence even more and making them so they walked on two legs. They were the servants of the elves."

Gregory's eyes widened at the power required to do what Bobo suggested. Nathanial just grunted acknowledgement. "Are they still friendly?"

Bobo shrugged, "I do not know. It appears they have grown greater still over the ages. They never possessed weapons or armor in the olden days either."

The dog-man was within 20 yards then. He spoke, his voice harsh and braying, but he clearly used a language. Bobo gasped, understanding bits and pieces of it. Gregory, upon listening intently and pondering each word he could make out realized it was a broken form of elvish, albeit an archaic version.

"It speaks a type of elvish," Gregory whispered to Nathanial so he was not totally in the dark.

"They want us to come with them, we are honored guests, it says," Bobo translated.

"Them?" Gregory asked, looking around nervously. "I thought he was the only one."

"No, we are surrounded," Bobo explained. "They hide well."

"I'm not feeling quite so honored all of a sudden," Nathanial commented, also glancing around.

"Something about taking us to their... Queen? Mistress? Goddess? Someone important who wants to meet us."

"Maybe she can help us," Nathanial pointed out. "If she's been here a while she must know a few things that can help us solve the riddle of bringing down the shield."

"Or maybe she prefers the isolation," Gregory pointed out.

"Why do you always do that?" Nathanial asked him, scowling.

"What?" Asked the wizard, feigning innocence. Nathanial continued to glare at him.

Bobo haltingly spoke to the emissary, choosing his words carefully so as not to offer any insult as he tried to adapt to the strange dialect. He finished and the doguren nodded and turned, walking down the wide road towards the center of the town.

"Let us go," Bobo said, walking after the dog-man. Gregory and Nathanial glanced at each other and saw no answer lay in each other's eyes, so they followed the prince into the unknown.

Unseen and unheard behind them, a score of doguren emerged from various hiding places and followed after. Nearly two dozen others moved along side on parallel roads, ensuring that the three could not escape if they suddenly decided to run for it.

Even more unseen by everyone a figure slipped from shadow to shadow, following at a distance to both the newcomers and the large company of doguren.