L'autunno Dorato
by Radjan

Table of Contents

Journal Entry | The Seekers | Waiting | Torment | Another | Warning | Journal Entry | Thayre | Marmer

Journal Entry
The jungle air was laden with thick fog as Strumm and I ran toward the specter-filled City of Mist. Verdant leaves hung heavy with moisture and the soft ground squished below our feet. The dense air echoed eerily with glottal croaking sounds from the riverbeds and creaking, hissing sounds from the underbrush… telltale signs of frogloks and mantraps. Giant mosquitoes buzzed ominously in the treetops.

As Strumm lead the way, I was on the watch for these creatures and for the large Iksar skeletons that roamed, rattling, through the jungle. I was concentrating so much on the familiar sounds of the jungle that I did not hear the soft padded footfall of another person sneaking up behind me. Strumm heard it, however, and motioned for me to stop.

"Radjan," he said softly, "we have a visitor."

I stopped running and looked at him questioningly. His eyes indicated the thick brush to my right and he instinctively stepped in front of me.

"Reveal yourself, friend." I called over Strumm's shoulder.

There was a pause, then a slight rustling from the thicket. Slowly, a young wood elf appeared. She was no more than six or seven seasons. Her strawberry blonde hair was wildly tangled and damp from the underbrush. Her eyes, bright with fear, darted from my face to Strumm's. So pathetic was she that I immediately knew no cause for alarm and sank to my knees in front of her. I was still slightly taller than she was, even on my knees, so I sat, cross-legged in front of her.

"What is it, child?" I asked tenderly.

Her eyes now lifted and stared at Strumm. I looked up at Strumm and indicated for him to sit beside me. Ever wary of our jeopardous environment, he grudgingly sat down, but kept his eyes watchful. My eyes rested on the child.

The wood elf swallowed hard but shook her head solemnly.

I was confused, but I waited.

She pointed at me, then at Strumm.

"Go ahead," I encouraged.

Still, she was silent.

I turned to Strumm, hoping he had a clue as to what the child was trying to indicate. He looked as confused as I was. The wood elf began to search through her ragged backpack. She pulled from it a parchment, rolled tightly and held with a velvet ribbon of such fine quality that I gasped that the suffering child could possess something so elegant. Attached to the ribbon was a tag. She held the tag out for me to see. On it was written, "Radjan."

"Why, that's me!" I exclaimed.

The child's dirty face smiled at me and she began to shake with obvious pleasure.

"You are looking for me?" I guessed.

Her strawberry blonde head bobbed up and down.

"Is that for me?"

Again, she nodded, but then looked toward Strumm with questioning eyes.

Strumm smiled softly at her and bowed his head gentlemanly, "I am Strumm, m'lady. What is thy name?"

She held her slender wrist out to him. From a silver bracelet dangled a small charm. On the charm was written "Thayre."

"Young Thayre, we are pleased to meet thee. Surely you have not ventured into this dark place to deliver a message to my lady wife?"

Thayre's head bobbed up and down again. Then she handed me the parchment. I undid the soft velvet ribbon and unrolled the missive. I read the brief message and gasped, looking at Strumm. "'Tis from Coprinus, my love. He and Ssyrrin plan to meet us this eve in the City of Mist."

"Does it say why, love?"

I re-read the parchment, "Nay. It simply states that it is a matter of importance and that a legal document must be executed in my presence."

I sat there on the damp ground of the Emerald Jungle, re-reading the message, looking for clues that never appeared. What important business would Coprinus and Ssyrrin have with me? I would have sat there longer, but my thoughts returned to Thayre and her trip into this dangerous area. Before heading to the City of Mist, I knew what I had to do.

"We must get her safely out of this zone," I said to Strumm.

He nodded sagely and stood, offering me a hand. I stood beside him and beamed a smile at the small messenger.

"Where would you like to go, my young friend?" I asked her.

She contemplated my question and then held her hand out, indicating a height smaller than her own wee build.

"Kaladim?" Strumm guessed, thinking of dwarves. Thayre shook her head and put her hands to her eyes, making a mask of her fingers. Blinking brightly through the holes, she smiled at him.

"Rivervale!" He laughed and she giggled silently along with him.

I smiled at them both, "Let us go back to the safety of the zone-line between this jungle and Trakanon's Teeth. We shall ask our friend Calron to take you to Misty Thicket. Then he shall escort you to Rivervale."

Thayre nodded her head vigorously, her unruly hair falling into her face. My heart went out to the child. I leaned down and, using the beautiful velvet ribbon from Coprinus' parchment, tied her hair back from her face. Thayre's hand reached behind her head to stroke the ribbon there. She beamed a smile at me and threw her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I held her small frame carefully, pleased that I had made her happy.

We all heard the awful rattling sound at the same time. I shifted my hold on Thayre just in time to shield her from a fierce blow. I dodged the next strike from the skeleton and lifted the child into my arms.

"Radjan!" Strumm shouted, unsheathing his sword swiftly from its scabbard, "Run for the zone! I shall meet you there!"

I hesitated, not wishing to leave his side. But the child in my arms trembled and sobbed, her head tucked into my shoulder. I knew I had to get Thayre out of this place.

"Go!" He shouted, landing a solid strike onto the freakish skeleton. I turned and ran; dodging swaying trees and low-hanging vines. Thayre clung to me, her frail frame almost weightless in my arms, her eyes awash in frightened tears.

At the zone line, I turned and waited, not wishing to zone over until I knew Strumm was safe. After what seemed like an eternity, I saw him emerge from the thick trees. He was running, but not panicked. He stopped and held us both in his arms.

"Child, 'tis okay. We are safe now." He told her, stroking her hair. She shook convulsively in my arms. Strumm's voice was gentle, "Look, Thayre. I have something for you."

Thayre raised her small head from my shoulder and looked at Strumm with red, puffy eyes. He held out to her a small bag. When she hesitated, he shook the bag. The contents rattled inside and she began to laugh silently. He had killed the skeleton that had almost killed her. I put her down and she took the bag and stowed it in her backpack.

We then zoned safely into Trakanon's Teeth together.

The Seekers
Calron searched frantically through the crowd in the city of Rivervale.

"Of all days for a fair!" he muttered under his breath. He searched at the vendors selling chocolates and other sweets. He watched the people as they lined up for games of skill and chance. He walked up and down the aisles of tables under the large scarlet and white dining tents. He did not see any sign of the child.

He was about to enter the bank, in the hope that he would find her there, when a familiar face appeared before him.

"Hail, Calron," greeted the bard.

"Strumm! Friend!" Calron cried, "Oh, please help me! She is lost!"

Strumm reached out and put a reassuring hand on the druid's shoulder, "What is it?" he asked, "who is lost?"

"Young Thayre!" Calron said, desperately.

"Thayre?" Strumm repeated, "I do not know of anyone named Thayre, Calron. Come, what is this about?"

Calron took a deep breath. Of course Strumm would not know of his sister's child. Calron started to explain, but his shoulders sagged beneath the weight of his worry. Strumm put his hand up to stop him.

"Wait, my friend. Let us find a quiet place to talk." Strumm lead the way to the docks on the lake of Rivervale. They sat down and Strumm removed a bottle of brandy from his backpack and handed it to Calron.

Calron took a drink of the strong elixir and felt the heat of the alcohol course through his veins. He tampered his panic momentarily to explain the story to Strumm.

"My half-sister, A'Kyrian, was the result of a liaison between my father and a female barbarian shaman long ago. Long before he met my mother. A'Kyrian was raised in Halas by her mother and she was taught the ways of the shaman. Eight years ago, A'Kyrian came to Kelethin to find our father. When she arrived, she found only me. Our father had already perished from this realm."

Strumm nodded, remembering. Calron continued.

"We forged a common thread, A'Kyrian and I. She wanted to know more about our father, and I missed him so much that I found solace in speaking to her about him. She remained in Kelethin for awhile. There she met Arakahn, a rogue. They fell in love and were married. A year later, Thayre was born. She is six seasons this past winter." Calron's voice broke at the mention of the child's name, he took several steadying breaths and continued.

Strumm remained compassionately quiet, waiting for his friend.

"A'Kyrian, Arakahn and Thayre were traveling through Oasis one evening when they encountered a group of dervishes. The thieves wanted their possessions," Calron's voice cracked, "and their child."

Calron gazed silently over the still water. "Arakahn fought valiantly to protect his family, but the dervishes proved to be too powerful for him. Arakahn and A'Kyrian were murdered and Thayre, at only one season of life, was taken."

Strumm gasped in horror. He had heard tales of these Oasis dervishes kidnapping the children of Norrath and making them into their own kind. Evil and without conscience.

Calron smiled weakly at Strumm, "But Thayre, even at that tender age, was clever. She managed to escape from the dervishes and find her way home. She has lived these past few years in the asylum."

"The asylum?" Strumm whispered, confused.

"Aye," Calron lowered his head, "when Thayre returned to us, she could no longer speak. Witnessing her parent's death and for the short time she was in the dervish camp caused her to become mute. The elders of the village thought she would receive the best care in the Orphanage Asylum where the clerics and monks there could take care of her."

Strumm nodded his head slowly, "Why do you seek her now? Should she not be in the asylum with the rest of the children?"

Calron hung his head ashamedly, "Nay," he whispered, "a fortnight ago, I thought it would be in Thayre's best interest if she came to live with me. We're the only family we have. All was going well until last night at the Seekers meeting."

Strumm had heard of the Seekers. They were a society of druids, rangers, and bards, skilled in tracking, who volunteered to find people and deliver messages to them. Strumm, himself, was called upon to be a Seeker occasionally. He was not present, however, at the meeting the night before. "What happened?" he asked.

"Thayre went with me, of course. I would not leave her alone. She seemed to enjoy meeting everyone and was especially pleased to see that I was given the task of delivering a message today."

"To whom was the message to be delivered?" Strumm asked.

Calron blushed, "Radjan."

Strumm smiled, "Radjan?"

"Aye, 'twas supposed to be delivered today in the Emerald Jungle."

"Yes, I am escorting her to the City of…" Strumm broke off his reply as a young female bard approached and handed a scrolled parchment to Calron.

Calron stood and bowed, "Thank you, m'lady," he acknowledged, accepting the missive. The bard bowed to them both and quickly turned and ran away, her duty completed. Calron unfurled the note and scanned it briefly. He gasped in horror.

Strumm stood quickly, "What? What is it?"

Calron stared at Strumm, "It's from Radjan," he said, trembling, handing Strumm the parchment.

Strumm read the message: "Calron, Greetings, m'lord. Strumm and I have a boon to request of you. We are in need of a teleportation for a young child named Thayre. She would like to be escorted to the city of Rivervale. I do not know how she came to be in this dangerous place, but she is safe with us. Please meet us at the zone between Emerald Jungle and Trakanon's Teeth. We shall be waiting for you. Thank you, my friend. - Radjan."

Strumm re-read the note, "Well, Thayre is safe, m'lord, but what does she mean, 'Strumm and I?' and 'We shall be waiting?' I am not with her, I am here."

Waiting
Radjan sat Thayre on a broken stone pillar just inside Trakanon's Teeth. This area was just as much a danger to the young wood elf as the Emerald Jungle from which they came, but near the zone line, they were safe. She pulled a flask of water and a soft cloth from her backpack and proceeded to clean the filth from the child's face.

Thayre squirmed and wiggled and protested silently to the ministrations, but Radjan steadied her gently and was patient in her task. "Soon," she thought to herself, "I will have my own babe to wash."

Radjan finished cleaning Thayre's face, arms and hands as best she could and stowed her supplies. She placed a hand on her slightly rounded belly and turned toward Strumm. He was pacing rapidly along the edge of the zone line. He seemed lost in thought. Something had been bothering him all day. Radjan shrugged this off and went back to her own, pleasant thoughts.

Would he be pleased that she was carrying their child? Radjan seemed certain that he would. He was so kind and gentle and protective of Thayre while they were in the Emerald Jungle. She found it hard to believe that he would not feel the same way, or more so, for his own child. Or children. The d'Tune family had a knack for producing twins.

Radjan had waited to share the news with her husband. Not out of worry for his reaction, but for the happy secret which, for now, was hers and hers alone. "Perhaps tonight," she murmured to herself, "after our trip to the City of Mist." She turned her attention to Thayre, who was scrambling on the ground in the underbrush, foraging. Radjan sighed and went to lift the child up off her knees.

"Come out of there, little one," Radjan smiled at the girl, "I just cleaned you up for your trip to Rivervale!"

Thayre crawled out of the underbrush and grinned broadly at Radjan. In her hand she held onto some vegetables which she had foraged. Thayre seemed quite pleased at this and held them out to Radjan.

"Smart girl!" Radjan laughed, "vegetables are good for you! Why don't you have them while we wait for Calron?"

Thayre made a face of disgust and dropped the vegetables to the ground.

Radjan laughed again, "You do not care for vegetables, child?"

Thayre shook her head.

Radjan leaned toward Thayre and whispered, "Neither do I!" Then she winked at her. Radjan straightened up and said, "But I know who does!"

Thayre looked at her questioningly.

"Give them to Strumm, child. He enjoys vegetables and he uses them to make fine elixirs in the brew barrels!"

Thayre bobbed her head up and down and picked up the dropped food. She looked past Radjan toward Strumm and looked back at Radjan with a quizzical look on her face.

"Go ahead, Thayre," Radjan urged, turning, "He's right over…"

But Strumm was gone.

"Strumm?" Radjan called. Silence greeted her.

"Strumm!" she shouted.

There was no answer.

Radjan did not want to alarm Thayre, so she relaxed her face into a smile and turned back to the child, who seemed panicked. "He must have gone to the Emerald Jungle to meet Calron. We'll be fine without him for a bit."

Thayre seemed to understand, and she dropped back to her knees to continue her foraging. Radjan did not stop her. She looked around the landscape hoping to see a trace of Strumm's blue lambent armor. There was no sign of him anywhere. She could only hope he had done what she told Thayre and zoned to the Emerald Jungle to escort Calron.

But even this answer bothered her; for it was unlike Strumm go anywhere without telling her.

Torment
He paced along the zone-line angry and confused. Voices in his head rambled ceaselessly, repeating incessant instructions only his mind could hear, "You have been chosen… you are Strumm… you possess the talisman… feel our power… Innoruuk be praised… you have been chosen…."

At times he fought against the voices, trying to clear his head and think thoughts of his own. Each time he tried, however, he was awash in excruciating pain, as though a thousand daggers were piercing his body. When he allowed the voices to take control, the pain would subside. It was a horrible kind of torturous punishment and he did not even know for what he was being punished.

He continued to pace, his head throbbing with voices, "Find the talisman… you are Strumm… Innoruuk will be pleased… release the power…." He steeled himself for another barrage of pain when he forced his own thoughts into his mind, "Who am I? I am not Strumm. What power?" A shock as strong as lightening jolted through his veins. He staggered, blinded by the pain, and he felt himself hit the zone line into Emerald Jungle.

Once he had crossed over, he ran, deeper into the thick forest. He vaguely heard someone shout something to him as he stumbled ahead, but the roaring in his ears muted the sound. He continued running, gasping for breath, until his legs gave out below him. He stumbled and fell on the soft, moist ground near the edge of a river. Groaning, he pulled himself closer to the clear, cool water. He cupped his hands and splashed his face, praying the pain would subside. Breathing became an effort and he could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. He lay there, face down near the water, and willed himself to calm down.

The voices continued to chant, "You are Strumm… praise Innoruuk… seek the talisman…." Eventually, the intense pain subsided into a dull ache and voices became whispers. His heart slowed to a normal beat.

He looked into the still water and studied his reflection. He recognized the face, but he did not know from where. The voices stilled for a moment as he gazed. He had fooled the woman, the redheaded barbarian. She had called him Strumm. When he had spoken to her, he spoke in a voice she recognized, but he knew was not his own. He continued to look at his reflection. There was no sign of the cursed mask he wore. Did the mask alter his appearance? Or was the reflection gazing back at him his own?

The mask was black, tarnished and rough on the edges. He remembered the night it was placed on his face…

*****
He had been strapped to a table on a dais in the center of a dark hall. Sconces of blood red provided an eerie firelight that flickered evilly. He struggled against the fastenings that bound him, but they held fast. A cloaked, hooded, priest-like figure stood over him as he lay there, chanting words foreign to his ears. The figure reached into the folds of his flowing robe and pulled from it the mask.

More incantations were mumbled and the mask was slowly lowered to his face. He tried to scream in protest, but no sound came from his mouth. The mask, as it came closer, quivered and shook in the priest's hands, as though it was alive. As soon as the rough metal corner touched him, it jerked itself forward and slammed into his face. There, it grew warm and began to throb.

The crowd of shapeless, hooded figures began to chant and their chants grew louder and louder in his ears… "Find the talisman… Innoruuk is power… you are Strumm… do not fail us…." Then the cloaked priest who had placed the mask slowly drew his hood away from his head to reveal his dark face. He reached into his cloak once more and drew from it a small stone rune that appeared to be a missing piece from the bottom. The rune dangled from a brittle piece of brown leather.

The dark elf priest spoke, in a tongue he could understand, "You will find its twin or you and your family shall suffer a most painful demise."

He lay there with the weight of the mask and its powers on his face. As the rune came closer to him, the mask protested angrily and turned his head sharply away. The pain was intense and continued to increase until the dark elf hid the rune in the folds of his cloak once again.

"Feel the power, bard," he intoned, "imagine the power!"

But all he felt was pain and a loss of self. He could not remember anything of his past. He did not know his name or what he was doing in this place. The dark elf had called him 'bard,' but he knew nothing of being a bard. The sight of the rune, however, brought a remembrance to the forefront of his mind. When he tried to link it to a person or place, the mask became angry and caused him so much pain he did not dwell on his thoughts.

When he was finally released from his captors, it was with one thought -- to find the missing rune talisman and return it to the priest. Only then would his true identity be revealed and the mask would be removed, his torment ended. He was told that he was Strumm, so his journey began there.

*****

He lay exhausted on the bank of the river. The voices inside his head rose once again, chanting, "Praise Innoruuk… release the power… you are Strumm… possess the talisman…."

Another
It was foggy when Calron and Strumm teleported into the Emerald Jungle. They ran quickly to the zone line. They were both anxious to ensure the safety of Thayre and Radjan. As they approached the crossing, they saw a figure emerge from the zone. He was flailing his arms as though a swarm of a million hornets encircled his head. It was hard to see him through the rising fog, but Calron called out to him.

"Wait! Can we help you?"

But the figure either did not hear Calron or he chose to ignore him. Calron turned to Strumm and shrugged, "Let's go."

They zoned into Trakanon's Teeth which was, blessedly, clear and sunny. Strumm spotted Radjan right away. She was sitting close to the child, her red hair shining in the sunlight. The child, Thayre, was playing with a ring of flowers on her lap, weaving the stems into a fragrant crown. When Radjan saw Strumm, she bent her head and whispered something to the child.

Thayre's eyes lit up when she saw Calron. She stood, spilling her handiwork on to the ground, and darted forward. Calron scooped her up into his arms and held her tightly.

Radjan leaned over to collect the crown and walked toward Strumm, "They must know each other!" she said.

"Aye. Thayre is Calron's niece."

"Niece?"

"Yes, love," Strumm replied, "'tis a long story. I shall tell you later. First…"

But Radjan was not diverted, "How nice, Calron!" she exclaimed, moving toward the small family.

Strumm reached out and caught her arm, "Radjan, please…"

"Ouch!" Radjan turned sharply back to Strumm, "What?"

"I am sorry, my love, please…" Strumm lowered his voice, "Who was with you earlier today?"

"Earlier? You mean before Thayre found us in the Emerald Jungle?"

"No," Strumm looked very anxious, "At that time, in the Emerald Jungle."

"No one, love. Just us."

"What do you mean, 'us,' Radjan?"

"W-why, you and I, of course," Radjan stammered, frightened by the look in Strumm's face, "There was no one else with us until Thayre appeared."

Strumm placed both hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, "I was not with you, love," he said low, his voice barely audible.

Radjan laughed nervously, "Of course you were! We were on our way to the City of Mist when you heard Thayre following us. We stopped and she handed me a note. Remember? Then a skeleton attacked us, almost killing Thayre. I ran with her to safety and you killed it." Her eyes grew wide, "Remember?"

"I was not with you, Radjan," Strumm repeated slowly, "I was in Rivervale. I was on my way to you when I met up with Calron. He was looking for Thayre and he explained to me her history. That is how I knew she was his niece."

Radjan's head felt light and her legs felt weak. She put her hand on her belly and bent over slightly, in pain. Her gaze broke from Strumm's as she looked around, frightened, for a place to sit. Strumm helped her to the thick root of a gnarled old tree. "Who was with you?"

Radjan's eyes filled with tears, "You were, love. Only…"

Strumm knelt before her, "Only what?"

She sniffled and pointed to his gold-colored greaves and his green boots "Only you were wearing your lambent armor, not this."

"I have not changed my armor, love. I have worn this since the day I acquired it."

Radjan began to weep, "But then who… I mean…" she choked back a sob and she clutched at her stomach, which now hurt worse than before.

Strumm noticed her pain and discomfort, "What is wrong? What happened? Did the skeleton hurt you at all?"

"No!" Radjan screamed, "I ran away with Thayre! You killed the cursed skeleton!"

Her outburst caught the attention of Thayre, who struggled against her uncle until he placed her down. She ran toward Radjan and looked at her questioningly. Her small hand patted Radjan's arm in a comforting gesture.

Radjan placed her hand over the child's and turned to her, trying to smile, "Thayre," she said, "remember when Strumm killed the skeleton?" The child nodded. "Show him the bones he gave you."

Thayre smiled and dug through her backpack. She pulled out a small bag and shook it. It rattled noisily.

"Yes, very good. Now show it to Strumm."

Thayre looked at her, confused.

Radjan pointed to Strumm, "Show him."

But Thayre looked beyond Strumm as if she was searching for someone else.

Calron came closer and took Thayre by the shoulders, "Thayre," he said, pointing at the bard, "This is Strumm."

Thayre looked at her uncle and slowly shook her head.

"It's not?" He said, confused by her reaction.

The child shook her head again.

Strumm looked at Radjan, who was sobbing, her arms wrapped around her stomach. He gathered her in his arms, softly he said, "There must have been someone else with you, my love. Listen… there was a bard who emerged from this zone just prior to our arrival. He was wearing lambent armor. He was running away from something. Calron shouted for him to stop, but he continued to run. Was he with you?"

Radjan felt an ache in her heart and a cold chill washed over her. Someone was posing as Strumm? How long had she been fooled by this imposter? She thought of her unborn babe and a new fear gripped her. Suddenly, she felt extremely dizzy. She tried to stand, but the earth spun below her feet. She fought against a wave of nausea. Vaguely she heard Strumm shout and she could feel his arms steadying her. Calron, too, had reached forward and they lowered her safely to the ground. The last thing she remembered was the comforting pat of Thayre's tiny hand on her arm.

Warning
"Radjan, my dear sister, … listen to me … there is a soul trapped beneath a mask of fire… he is your enemy, he is your friend, he is your brother… he seeks the other talisman… for hate and destruction… power to destroy us all… only the true owners of the talisman can release the power… protect them, Radjan… my Jan…"

Radjan woke with her brother's voice echoing in her head. The chamber was dark save for the amber glow of coals flickering in the fireplace. She blinked her eyes and slowly glanced around the room. It was empty. She stirred and tried to sit up, but her stomach cramped with pain. She cried out.

The door to the chamber creaked open slowly, letting a shaft of light in from the adjoining room.

"'Tis me, sister," said a familiar voice.

"Oh, Lheerila," Radjan sobbed, her hand on her belly, "help me."

Laoghaire rushed to her sister's side, "What is it, Radjan?"
"Janamor spoke to me, sister," Radjan wept, "He… he said…"

Laoghaire interrupted gently, "He spoke of a great enemy, did he not?"

Radjan gasped, "Aye, he did! But not an enemy… a friend and a brother. How did you know?"

"He came to me last night in a vision, my sister," Laoghaire sat down gently on the edge of the bed, "he spoke of a talisman…"

"Aye," Radjan nodded slowly.

"Could he have meant Strumm's talisman? Quo Vadimus?" Laoghaire asked.

Radjan looked into her sister's eyes and nodded tearfully, "I believe so."

"Where is it now?" Laoghaire asked.

Radjan pointed to a desk in the corner of their chamber, "He's kept it in that writing desk ever since the day Plukk…" realization washed over her, "Lheery!" she cried.

"What? I am here, Radjan."

"'Tis Plukk! 'Tis Plukk!" Radjan screamed. She panicked and frantically tried to climb out of bed. She doubled over in pain and Laoghaire stopped her and held her tightly, calming her.

"My Jan, my Jan," she intoned, stroking her hair and rocking to and fro, "All is well, my Jan…"

But Radjan could not be calmed, she needed Strumm, "The imposter! Could it be? But he is dead!" she was sobbing in her sister's arms.

Strumm entered the room quickly but quietly. He looked into his sister-in-law's eyes and she motioned for him to come closer. He carefully gathered Radjan into his arms, "I am here, my love," he soothed.

"Oh, Strumm!" Radjan cried, grasping at him tightly, "Plukk…"

"Laoghaire told me about her vision, my love," he said quietly, "did Janamor come to you in a dream as well?"

"Aye, my love, but…" Radjan sniffed, trying to calm herself down. The pain in her stomach had subsided, "but he told me to protect the true owners of the talisman. Plukk is dead, how can I protect him? And his talisman was destroyed along with the mask. I do not know what it all means!"

Strumm held her tightly and stroked her hair gently, "I think I do know, love."

Radjan looked up at Strumm and then to her sister. Laoghaire nodded sagely.

"The dark elf clerics are using a powerful spell. A spell that has not been perfected," Strumm said, then pulled away from Radjan and looked at her. His eyes were filled with pain, "They are resurrecting the dead."

Journal Entry
I am fearful of the health of my unborn child. When I place my palm against the roundness of my belly, I feel no movement stirring within. The sharp pains I was experiencing have subsided, but have been replaced with an eerie silence. Either the babe has perished within me, or he is as frightened as I am, and is hiding in stillness. I have not yet confided in Strumm about his child, although I am sure he wonders at my suffering.

Yesterday, when he and Laoghaire told me about the dark elf clerics and their attempt at resurrecting the dead, I wept. Strumm said that the procedure was not without repercussions. He has learned that the victim of the reanimation must first wish to be resurrected. If the victim desires new life, he can be brought back from the dark realm of death. It has been proven, also, that many of the victims of this resurrection technique have little or no recollection of their former selves. Which means that Strumm's brother, Plukk, had he chosen to return to this life, may never understand his heritage.

What confuses me further, is how Plukk came to know and pose as Strumm, his twin brother. If Plukk survived the resurrection process and did not lose his memory, why would he deceive us in this manner? If he did lose his memory, how did he know to seek out the family d'Tune?

The hour grows late and my eyes weary. I must rest. Beside me, Strumm is snoring softly. On his bare chest is his talisman, Quo Vadimus. He rescued the ancient rune from the deep corner of his writing desk and placed it around his neck to keep it safe. The blue ribbon, taken from the hem of my old nightdress, is knotted firmly and strongly protects more than just the talisman.

I worry still about Strumm's well being. The stone, perhaps, is more powerful than we ever imagined.

Thayre
Thayre looked at her uncle with pleading eyes. She blinked innocently at him and pouted her lips slightly. Calron sighed and handed her the sealed letter he had just received from a Seeker. “Very well,” he consented, “you may deliver the message, child.”

The small child studied the parchment and the beautiful royal blue wax seal that secured it. Her fingers delicately traced the embossed image of a lute. She looked at Calron again and raised her shoulders in a slight shrug. Thayre did not understand for whom the message was intended and she could not read the spidery handwriting under the seal.

Calron smiled at her, “It is for Strumm, Thayre. We shall take it to him now. I will create a portal to the Nexus and…” he paused when Thayre gasped and threw the missive to the dusty ground. She cringed as if the parchment had burnt her small hands. Calron leapt to his feet and went to her, “What is it?” he asked, alarmed.

Thayre pointed at the message and shook her head, frightened. Calron picked up the parchment and brushed the dirt away carefully. “Was there something on the letter?” he asked, “a bug, perhaps?” Thayre shook her head and her uncle saw a tear slide down her pale cheek. Thayre was clearly shaken. Calron reached out and gathered his niece in his arms. He held her tightly.

“Please talk to me,” he whispered, “I want to understand.”

Thayre remained silent.

Calron broke their embrace and led her back inside the home they shared. He offered her a chair, the only chair, at the table on which they ate their meals. She sat down, folded her arms on the table, and buried her head in them. Her strawberry blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders. Calron filled the kettle with pods of water and placed it on the stove. He opened the oven doors and stoked the coals. He then opened his cupboards in search of a cookie or muffin or something to treat the child.

His mind filled with anguish for his niece and the suffering she experienced her entire life. The dervishes she encountered with her mother and father were beyond cruel. She had witnessed her parent's demise at the dervishes' hands and her subsequent enslavement by them. Her escape from them was nothing less than miraculous, but not without damage to her small body and mind. For although Thayre could hear and understand him, she could not speak to him.

Sometimes Calron wondered if the child would be better off had she remained in the asylum with the kind monks and clerics. They knew how to correspond with her and keep her happy and safe. Glancing at her small frame, crying into her arms on his dining table, he felt helpless. But Thayre was his niece, his only family. It was his duty to care for her and watch over her.

The kettle began to hiss and he reached for a small bag of tealeaves. He poured two steaming mugs of water and set them on the table. As the tea seeped, he checked one last cupboard for something edible. There were fresh vegetables, but he knew that she would not eat them. Then his eyes spotted something wrapped tightly in a piece of parchment. He smiled. It was a leftover bar of chocolate. He unwrapped the sweet and placed it on the table in front of Thayre. “Look what I found, child!” he said.

Thayre’s head lifted slowly out of her arms and her eyes met his. They were puffy and red with crying. Calron’s heart broke. He sank to his knees by her side and turned her chair to face him. He gathered her small hands in his and held them tightly. “You know I would not let anything happen to you, do you not, child?” he asked. Thayre nodded her head, but the frightened look in her face remained.

“I know much has happened to you in your short life, Thayre, but you must trust me.” He squeezed her hands reassuringly. Then he felt her small hands squeeze his. She trusted him. “Very good,” he smiled, “now, look what I found for you! It’s chocolate. I do not believe you have ever had chocolate before.”

Thayre let go of her uncle’s hands and turned in her chair. She picked up the chocolate bar and took a tiny bite from the corner. Calron watched her face for a reaction. The cookies he sometimes baked were sweet, but not like the pure sweetness of a chocolate bar. She rewarded him with a huge smile and proceeded to rapidly consume the remainder of the treat. Calron laughed and rose to his feet. As he watched her finish, he wondered again at her reaction to the letter he was asked to deliver to Strumm.

He remembered that the child was confused when he rescued her in Trakanon’s Teeth a fortnight ago. When Radjan was convinced that Strumm had been with her while traveling in the Emerald Jungle. But Radjan was wrong. Strumm had not been with her that day because Strumm had been with Calron in Rivervale. Thayre and Radjan were alone when Strumm and Calron arrived to port them out.

Then they learned that Radjan had, indeed, been traveling with a bard who so closely resembled her husband that she was convinced it was Strumm.

Calron shook his head, trying to mentally put the pieces of this puzzle together. “If it was Plukk,” he whispered out loud, “why did he run away when he saw Strumm?” Calron began to tap the table with his fingers. “And why,” he continued, “would Plukk deceive his family in this fashion? If he had been resurrected, and lost his memory, he would not know Strumm, or Radjan, or anything else for that matter.” His fingers continued strumming the table. “So why was he with Radjan that day? What was he after?”

Thayre had finished the chocolate bar and began to sip her tea. She made a face at the bitterness of the taste and Calron absent-mindedly reached for the bowl of sugar. He was not watching when she poured nearly all of the contents into her mug. His fingers stopped strumming the table and he ran them through his hair, willing his brain to think.

His eyes fell upon the sealed letter before him. Perhaps the missive would shed some light on the mystery. He reached for it and tucked it in his tunic. He glanced at Thayre, who was eating spoonfuls of sludgy tea. “Thayre,” he said quietly, “I must deliver this message.”

Thayre dropped the spoon to the table and bowed her head.

“Ye do not have to come with me, child,” he soothed, “I shall find someone to watch over ye while I make this delivery.” Thayre’s head shot up and she shook her head so vehemently that some of the ends of her tangled hair fell into her mug of tea.

“Ye want to go with me?” Calron asked.

Thayre bowed her head and bit her bottom lip. She seemed to struggle for a bit with her decision. Then she slowly looked up at her uncle.

“P-Plukk wan pr..pretty r..r..rock,” she stammered.

Marmer

Strumm studied the letter Calron had just delivered. The royal blue wax with an embossed lute was the d’Tune family seal. The spidery handwriting below the seal he recognized, but had not seen in a very long time. With great trepidation, he slowly broke the seal and opened the missive.

He turned to Radjan, who was preparing their evening meal, “’Tis from my grandmother.”

Radjan beamed a smile at him, “How lovely! I did not know your grandmother still existed in this realm.”

“Aye. She must be…” Strumm stopped to think, “One hundred and seventy now.”

“What does she have to say?”

Strumm placed the letter on the table. Dusk had settled as the bright Norrathian sunlight dipped below the horizon. He reached for a lantern and drew it closer. His grandmother’s handwriting was thin and whispery and very difficult to read even in the best of light. He cleared his throat and read the message aloud,

“My Dearest Grandchild,

“Great visions I have had, Strumm, powerful and frightening visions. I must speak with you and Radjan…”

Strumm paused and looked at his wife. As far as he knew, his grandmother did not know he had married. Radjan returned his gaze, “Me?” she questioned.

Strumm shrugged, “Marmer is a very wise woman. She has always been one step ahead of me in her knowledge of, well… all things. From the important to the mundane.”

Radjan picked up a dishcloth and threw it at her husband playfully, “Are you calling me mundane, m’lord?”

Strumm deftly caught the cloth and laughed, “Never, my love.”

“Marmer?” Radjan tried to hide a grin.

Strumm’s face flushed and he looked away quickly, “’Tis a name I gave her in my childhood. Apparently I could not say ‘grandmother’ and when I tried it came out ‘marmer’ and the nickname held. Plukk teased me about it mercilessly, but in the end he too called her Marmer.”

Radjan giggled, “Ah.”

Strumm ignored her grin and continued reading, “I must speak with you and Radjan about Quo Vadimus and about your brother, Plukk. It is vital we meet as soon as possible, my dear. The dark clouds that have covered parts of our world for all these years are looming. War, I am afraid, is imminent…”

He stopped and glanced up at Radjan. She stood very still, one hand clutching the knife she was using to chop vegetables and the other grasping the edge of the worktable. “War?” She whispered.

Strumm held her frightened gaze for a moment then cleared his throat and continued, “We cannot allow the dark forces to spread hate and fear among the people of Norrath. I fear for your safety, my child, and for the safety of your children. I shall expect you soon. ~ La Abuela”

“The safety of my children?” Strumm repeated, puzzled. He looked up at Radjan who had not moved. She carefully placed the knife on the worktable and bowed her head. She had not felt the babe move in over a fortnight. What she once was looking forward to sharing with her husband she now dreaded. A tear slid down her cheek before she could brush it away. Strumm stood quickly to gather his wife into his arms.

After a short while he whispered, “Thee are with child, my love?”

To Be Continued…