Blood Ritual

hey plunged into the thick black smoke that had enveloped the wagons, using it as a veil to hide their movements. Dale was relieved as Gared seemed to regain some of his energy. They sped together up the slope, following a trial of slain guards and discarded weapons.

They had delayed enough that she could not see if anyone remained alive ahead of them. There was also the concern that the dwarves would keep coming. She paused at the top of the rim as she saw something very grim. The guild's monk was dead beneath a spreading yew tree, its berries red in contrast to the snow. She saw the scorches of Galyew's fire all around but no sign of the mage.

"They are still coming, I think they intend to kill all of us. The Stone Summit have made many threats...they mean to prove sincere." Gared knelt and checked the fallen woman for any sign of life. He shook his head. "Sorry Doulin..."

"You knew her?"

"We came into this guild together." Gared moved on up the slope. "These many long years have made us strangers."

"Tell me why you stay with Beken and Galyew."

"Circumstances demand it." He said dryly. Dale knew it for a verbal dodge. He did not want to discuss it.

"What...exactly..."

"We must move on." He cut in. "We will be safer and more able to fight in numbers. Whoever remains will need us."

Gared sprang forward and she followed his retreating back. She stared at the black cloak and its harsh insignia. Five thorns embraced the blade and she had not recognized the detail of the sword's pommel; a skull jeered there. She shivered at this image of death in a place where death was ascendant. For another hour they climbed higher and higher up a slope, but they still heard the dwarves following, for the jingle of the herder's harness was sharp in the dry cold air.

They found a man fallen beside the trail, over come by wounds and exhaustion without a monk to aid him. Gared only paused for a moment. If anything he picked up speed and she finally saw what he saw; smoke from a small campfire. There was a knot of perhaps a half dozen people there.

Dale saw Beken rise to face them as they arrived. The warrior regarded them grimly and beckoned them to the fire. She followed  but the warrior stepped in her path. Dale startled at the sight of his harsh visage and snarling lips. He reminded her nothing more than of a rabid fox she had once found in a pitfall trap. Mindlessly vicious and unthinking.

"Fetch dry wood for the fire." Beken snapped.

"Beken, the dwarves are still hunting for us. Rather than make ourselves obvious with more fire we should still be moving."

"If they come we will fight, few enough are left."

"Three of their dolyaks are still alive."

Beken considered this and made a sound of annoyance. "That was the best you could do?"

"We did our best."

"As usual not good enough. You are right though, we must continue to move and hope they grow tired of the hunt." Beken sighed. "You need to help Galyew though, he's exhausted."

Beken started shouting to the few remaining people to put the fire out and pack up. Dale finally saw Galyew sitting on a boulder, his broad shoulders bowed somewhat. His robes were burned and tattered and his face was gaunt when he turned to look at them. Dale stepped back as his eyes raked across her like a predator's. Galyew knelt beside him and she watched as he drew a small black dagger. The ranger whispered something to Galyew and the mage nodded.

Gared unlaced his bracer and Dale gasped when he stabbed the blade into his own flesh and drew down across the muscle. Thick blood spattered the earth, but the ranger's expression remained impassive as he drew a hand along the self inflicted wound, leaned forward and touched Galyew's forehead. There was a slight greenish haze and warp about them for just a moment. Galyew's gaze seemed to focus and the mage reached out and stroked Gared's shoulder. Gared winced at the touch like a nervous animal, limbs taut and ready for flight.

Galyew grabbed him by the arm as he rose to leave. "I want more."
Gared flicked the dagger across his skin again, but this time Galyew placed his hand over the fresh wound and the greenish glow suffused them both. Dale watched in disgust as the mage smeared blood on Gared's cheek with his thumb and laughed. She heard Beken snort from the edge of the camp in echoed humor. It was completely odd and she wondered what exactly she had seen happen between the three of them. It seemed humiliating for Gared.

"You can go."

Gared put the little dagger away and came to his feet unsteadily. The ranger rubbed snow over the open wounds and then merely laced the bracer over them. Behind him Galyew rose and stretched. A rat faced servant brought a steaming bowl of tea to the mage, who drank greedily, his hands still crusted with blood. The servant put the fire out and dragged Galyew's pack to him. She glanced around the camp and saw in addition to them two very weary looking warrior mercenaries.

Everyone was ready to move in a moment, even Gared who looked haggard and beaten. She followed behind, not only to avoid Galyew, but also to keep an eye on Gared.

It must have been hours, but when the sun began to set they took shelter in an aspen thicket. Dale and Gared cut fir limbs to line a place to sleep and then built up a barracade of snow on the windward side of the camp. Other than light the fire and boil water for tea, the others did nothing to help. She could see that the mercenaries were in a bad way, but Beken was in perfect condition and Galyew since his infusion was energetic and full of directives for she and Gared.

When they finally finished the work of securing the camp and making it comfortable Dale could not help but notice there was no tea for them. She sat beside the the failing fire and ate half frozen rations next to Gared. Already Beken had made his bed near the barrier.

"Dale and Gared can watch." Beken said. "My men need to rest."

'Like hells we don't need rest at all.' Dale thought as she rose to forage for more wood. Galyew had lit a small oil lamp and was reading through a stack of scrolls, his bare feet to the fire. She sighed as she moved through the trees and gathered wood; she was sore and bruised from the day's exertion. She was tempted to use some of the unguent, but decided it was best to save it for dire situations and she somehow knew that it could not cure lack of sleep or a broken heart.

She returned a few times with armloads of fuel and fed the fire until it cast a stronger glow. She caught the glint of Galyew's eyes as he watched her across the flame. Dale wished he would stop staring and dropped the stick she was using to spread the coals when she felt the whisper of his mind against hers. She felt nauseous at his unwelcome presence.

"Leave me alone!"

"My my, I see your little punishment has made you a little sensitive to my wiles..."

She felt his presence dissolve, but she was shaken enough that even ten feet was too close. She glanced back and saw Gared silouetted against the snow, his back resting against a tree trunk. He was watching for enemies and oblivious to the little spat. Distractedly she filled the kettle with snow and set it to boil.

"Are you feeling well? I was trying to assess how our members are, not hurt you." Galyew said outloud this time.

"I feel fine."

"I was surprised to see you alive. I knew Gared was fine, but I underestimated you." She felt the energy around her shift as he bowed his head over the text; she sensed that he had still been reading her in some way. Galyew had definitely withdrawn and his attention was back on the writing. After awhile she made some bitter but refreshing tea and brought some to Gared. He regarded her with a blank expression, but took the bowl in his hands and sipped.

"I cannot sense him anymore. I forgot how much we shared. The wind on my skin was the same on his." Gared sighed. "I was standing here thinking how cold Drill must be...and then I realise he has nothing to feel now, its just me that's alone and cold."

"I'm so sorry." She fought the urge to embrace him but knew it would only embarass him. He wanted to bear his secrets and pains alone and she saw that. Yet she inwardly wept for him and wanted to comfort him as he had cared for her.

"I sent him away when the battle started because I knew it would be too dangerous. He disobeyed me."

"He saved your life."

"Yes." Gared hung his head."You are going to ask about Galyew again, aren't you?"

"I want to know what is happening here."

"Dale, I don't want you to die as well. You will do as I say and run away at Beacon's Perch and never come back. You will run all the way to Lion's Arch...and promise me you won't look back. Someone will take you along, you are much better than you let on. Just don't stay."

"What was that with the knife today?"

"Dale, go sleep and I will wake you up when I am too tired to watch."

"Why is it a secret?"

"Dale, there is more here than you need to know. A life is at stake. You must not pry."  There was a fierce edge in his voice. She had heard that edge once when he had asked her not to run back at Borlis Pass. It was not a request, but a command.

* * *

Gared led them along a rugged ridgeline; from the windblown slopes they could see the valleys and the many watch fires of the Stone Summit dwarves. The second night a storm kept them pinned for most of a day and what distance they made was up a mountain side to where the cold was harsher. Beken's mercenaries, already in poor condition from the battle continued to fade. It was hard going on the tongue of a great glacier rent with crevaces and rearing fingers of stone and ice.

On the third day a sudden blizzard caught them as they pushed for a high lonely pass that was not beneath the eye of any dwarven tower. They came to cover, but belatedly Beken noticed that his men had not made the last scramble and were somewhere out on the glacier. Dale and Gared ventured out into the teeth of the wind and called for them, but no reply came. Sullen and frost bitten, they returned to the upthrust of snow and stone that kept off the wind. It was poor shelter and they all huddled together. Any emnity between them was forgotten as the Shiverpeaks greeted them with a fury greater than any manmade troubles.

They were awake throughout the night; there was no place for sleep or comfort. Dale was warm enough between Gared and Beken, though the big warrior's armor dug uncomfortably into her thigh and arm. Galyew huddled with his back to them, keeping himself warm with summoned fire. The fifth man she found was named Oran Talos and was a young guild steward who had come on the journey to manage money and trade. He resembled nothing so much as a rodent and was a small person who presently had burrowed next to Gared and was shivering fitfully. He complained most of the night until he was allowed in the center of the group where it was most sheltered. After a rumble from Beken to shut up, Oran settled into a miserable sniffling counterpoint to the roaring breath of the gale.

When dawn finally came it was as if the mountain rested. The wind dropped and the sun flared from her nest of clouds with a pale blue ferocity. She noticed the sunshine dimly at first, as if expecting the claws of the wind and finding only the slightest breeze. It was utterly silent as all of them shrugged out from a covering of snow. There was no conversation as they carried on up the glacier, Gared walking ahead and prodding his longbow ahead to look for hidden crevaces. 

They came finally to the pass and gazed down the long slope and towards the distant shining roofs of a fortified town. Distant smoke shimmered in the chilly air. Maybe another three hours on the exposed slope. Dale watched Gared scramble on to a rocky path that traversed the slope, it was wide and easy to walk. Along the trail she saw little stacks of stones, some topped by skulls. She knew these were the shrines of fallen dwarves; Gared had told her as much. There were so many she imagined a great battle had taken place here. As they came to the toe of the slope there were more of the cairns and more skulls still fresh in the icy conditions.  The war still raged.

"We should hurry, I don't like this." Beken said sharply. They had been following the path for awhile and it wound like a serpent through stone spires and stunted fir trees. They could no longer see the fortress and Dale knew this made Beken nervous. There were only five of them, and one of them could add nothing to a conflict. As it was Oran was limping pitifully, his fashionable suede boots frayed from walking on the rugged surface of the glacier. He'd almost certainly ridden most of the way in a cart.

They picked up their pace, but had to pause often for the steward to catch up. At long last Beken rolled his eyes and picked up the little man. They managed for a short while before Beken required a rest. They sat among aspens, everyone wincing at the fall of a clot of snow or the shadow of a foraging raven flying past. Everywhere they saw the cairns and here and there the distinctive lump of a body beneath the freshly fallen snow.

"Grenth be damned boneyard." Beken muttered as they moved on, Oran walking again. It was a demoralising place, it seemed to her that at any moment the Stone Summit could reappear. She felt stretched and weary and all the time she watched Gared how he listened to and obeyed each and every desire of Galyew and Beken. It was not the man she knew from their journey from Borlis Pass or the one that she had fought beside. He wanted her to leave. Dale found it increasingly difficult to consider leaving him. Surely she could free him. She could discover what was wrong between them.

She was thinking this when they came over a slight rise and the worn gates of the fortress were open before them. From a wide track groups of people came and went. She had never seen, apart from Ascalon, so many armed and armored individuals. Outside the gates a few stern looking Ascalon soldiers stood watching the bustle of the crowds.

The five of them shuffled on to the road and were given nothing but a most cursory glance; they were filthy and battered like the majority of people here. Gared was right, she could easily be lost among the milling crowds. There were many guides for hire, they hawked their prices loudly in the square. Mostly these were offering to take one to Droknar's Forge and the price was beyond anything that she had ever possessed. Other groups were seeking mercenaries and porters for a journey to Kryta, but these were in the minority.

Beken took them to a wind weathered building on the north side of the square. Inside there were more travels and the bustle of people getting ready for a long hard road. Beken finally found a woman who handed them a key in exchange for money. They shuffled down a low hallway and into a small plain room that had several straw pallets stacked in the corner. To her they seemed an unspeakable luxury. Along with a softer bed came the hope of hot food.

"Gared, go get us something to eat and check if the bath house is open." Galyew tossed the ranger a small bag of coins. Dale moved to go with him and the mage caught her by the arm. She pulled against him a little bit and then relented when she felt the pull of his energy around her, ready to strike. Gared observed all of this and left with his head down.

When the door was closed Galyew set her to work laying out the pallets. While they waited for food, Dale took off some of her armor and examined the numerous blisters, cuts and bruises. She looked up to see Beken staring at her with lustrous eyes; a chilly silence filled the chamber.

"I'd hate you to believe that I don't know that you are going to try and leave us." Beken said in his harsh accent. "We need the money now the caravan is gone."

"Money?" Oran perked up from where he had settled on a pallet and was massaging his reddened feet. The little accountant glanced at Dale and back at Beken. "What is it?"

"If we deliver her to Lion's Arch we get four platinum. That will pay for at least some of the losses."

"I see. Then shouldn't Galyew secure her properly?"

"Gared likes her, he'll make a fuss if we ar too harsh." Galyew said, breaking his long brooding silence. "Also I have not the materials needed."

"I would chain her." Oran said. "I don't trust her."

"She knows the price of disobedience by now." Beken stated darkly.

She felt a chill as the warrior met her eyes. She bowed her head, distracting herself by pulling off her old serviceable boots. She winced at the soreness in her limbs. Dale could still feel Beken's gaze upon her. She shivered as the big man approached and knelt beside her. He ran a calloused hand through her dirty hair and down her back. Through the thin cloth of her undershirt her strained muscles burned at his rough touch. She loathed him as his fingers crawled across her flesh. He paused and gave her an unwelcome kiss on the cheek.

"I can ease your hurts." He said softly into her ear. "There's only so much that crap Gared uses can help you."

She extricated herself from his embrace and fled to the opposite wall. "Don't touch me!"

"Bek, leave her alone." Galyew snapped, but Dale could see he was laughing at the spectacle. "Gared likes her and I don't want trouble."

"As if he could fight back." Beken retorted, but he didn't continue his advances. The warrior gave her one last hungry glance and retreated to remove some of his armor. The chamber fell into another brooding silence. Dale crept back to her pallet and laid down with a blanket wrapped tightly around herself. Oran snorted something derisive from his corner as he unrolled some scrolls and started writing something down.

They spent a day to recover in Beacon's Perch. She was a prisoner in the room while the others came and went as they wished. She spent the hours repairing her equipment and looking out of the single narrow window that overlooked the bustle of the square. Sitting locked in the room alone again while the others did the final hiring of guards, she noticed that Galyew had left his dirty outer robe hanging on the peg near the door. She knew the old garment had many pockets.

Cautiously, she searched each little opening. She finally felt the thick edges of a parchment package. She hauled it out and with relief saw Jael's blocky handwriting near the seal that notified the carrier that the message was for Kouric Alothan. She hastily stuffed the packet down her armor and laced it tightly back in place. She then opened Oran's bag full of records and found an unused sheet of parchment. Carefully she folded and tied it togehter so that on a cursory examination it would seem like the package and put it back in the robe. As she put the robe back, a small golden object escaped from a pocket. It glinted like liquid sunlight as it rolled across the subtle tilt of the floor. She sprang after it, surprised at its lightness when she caught it. Holding it up she found it was a perfectly polished orb of amber.

She turned it over in her hands in rapt curiousity; apart from the arrowhead she had never seen anything so beautiful or so certainly a talisman of elemental energy. It was almost hot in her hands as she rolled it over to admire the deep golden depths. Then something within it caught her eyes.

If she looked directly at it, the phantom in the orb vanished, but side on she saw the figure again; a young girl asleep, her pale hair draped across a stone table. If she focused too hard then the figure was gone and only the gold of the amber remained. She wanted to study it longer, but sensing that being caught with the orb would get her in more trouble, she shoved the item into the pocket it had fallen out of.

She lay down and waited for them to return, knowing that when they did it would be time to move on. In a short while she heard them and sat up as the key turned in the lock. Galyew ambled in and almost immediately put on his long coat. She was careful not to stare and make him suspicious, but she was hopeful he’d not notice any difference. She saw Beken and Gared enter the room followed by Oran, who gave her an unpleasant frown before gathering up his all important bag of records. She saw that there were two others in the hallway waiting for them.

They emerged into the brightness of the square. Dozens of people milled and shouted. Gared paused to buy a heated drink from a vendor which he handed to Dale as they waited for something. She sipped it, hands wrapped around its heat gratefully.  She saw that Galyew and Beken were involved in a heated discussion with an armed woman and a monk.

“Gared…I have the letter.” She whispered.

“Unfortunately they know…through whatever art, what we had planned.”

The monk that was negotiating raised his voice. Oddly, Dale noticed how Galyew and Beken treated him; with deference. She took in the details of the strangers; they were both beautifully clothed and their azure cloaks shone in the cold sun. Two golden keys crossed upon blue. She blinked, trying to remember something about that symbol. Then she realized it was not the symbol but the person she recognized.

“What guild are the ones in the blue?”

“The Sky Gate Consortium.” Gared was confused by this change in the conversation. “They are the leaders of our alliance, they financed this little disaster. Now..you…”

“I recognize the monk…his name is Edesil.”

“Him? You saw him outside of his safe places? He’s like a dragon on eggs, you only see him when he is greedy for something.”

“He healed my leg.”

“Really?” Gared gave the monk a sly, calculating glance. “I don’t know who the woman with him is. Sky Gate is very powerful. Beken hates them, but the charter between us is binding for another year. No doubt we owe them a great deal after the caravan being destroyed.”

“Edesil does not seem a bad person…”

“He’s not, but he doesn’t usually concern himself with people like us. He’s never liked our guild either and was dead set against our contract. In hindsight I can say he was right.” 

Dale looked away when Edesil’s eyes flicked over her. Gared held the monk’s imperious gaze for what seemed an eternity. She was surprised to see Edesil incline his proud head ever so slightly to the ranger.

“You lost half your guild party as well, I see. I have twenty platinum to account for gentlemen. I gave you a chance to repay your debts and once again I am caught with an empty purse to show his lordship.”

“We need your help south, Edesil. I ask as an ally, even a few of your people could help us.”

“No. I need to return to the hall soon. There has been a challenge issued.” The monk regarded Beken as if he were something distasteful like a slug. “I have better things to do than walk through muck and heal reckless fools.”

“Is it Twistwood?” Gared asked suddenly. Dale saw many things; first that Galyew’s eyes flashed with annoyance, that Beken cleared his throat and that Edesil laughed aloud.

“Twistwood already got what they wanted from us. Why knock down the gates of an empty treasury? No, we are the challengers…instead of pious defenders we shall be blood soaked raiders.” Edesil stared at Dale again. “Is it true she is Jael’s student?”

“Yes.”

“His students were always excellent at the gods’ games. It is a shame we can no longer attract talent to our halls. Then again losers rarely do.”

“You never sent us help. We could have won.” Beken complained.

“You are lucky they did not burn your hall to the ground after what you did to their officer.” Edesil snapped. “After you dishonored yourself, we felt no need to send any help. We hoped to be rid of a nuisance, and still your filthy guild lord survives. Walk south and if you die at least then we may find a more suitable ally.”

Seething, the warrior drew his blade; the crowd in the square parted in response to the sound of steel. The lithe figure at Edesil’s side sprang between warrior and monk, a thin blade upraised to take the blow. Dale clenched her fists as she was almost certain that the strength of Beken’s arm would cleave apart such a willow thin figure.

Yet the little blade flipped aside the massive sword and guided Beken’s attack to the side with perfect finesse. It was like watching the wind shift deftly over storming water; the little figure was still while the warrior raged hopelessly around her. The figure blurred and in a moment the warrior was stumbling back and pawing frantically at his streaming eyes. The watching crowd laughed at the spectacle of the big man overcome by the little crouching figure.

“Ah yes, this is Talul Ke. She’s my bodyguard. I believe you have been introduced.” The monk turned away and disappeared with his companion. Beken was left to get the stinging powder out of his eyes; Dale could see he was in agony, but pride prevented him from making a sound. Oran tried to wash his eyes with water, but in the cold air it froze, making the warrior bellow in anger. The accountant was slapped to the ground in the warrior’s humiliated fury.

“I swear I will kill the smug bastard!” Beken said as his eyes finally cleared. “Where are they?”

“There are others from Sky Gate in town, be careful!” Oran whined as he picked himself off the snow. “Master, please let us go to Lion’s Arch.”

“Shut up, weasel.”  Beken raised a fist to cuff him about the head.

“I will tell the lord!” Oran threatened as he ducked behind Galyew.

“Oran, it is by Grenth’s oversight that you live.” Galyew said.

“Anyhow Beken, we need to leave. I saw more of them as well. I think Edesil would turn a blind eye if a brawl started and we came off worse.”

Galyew was about to say more when Dale noticed that many in the nearby crowd were sporting brilliant blue capes. Cowed, the little party left by the northern gate and moved quickly and in silence for many hours through the straggling refugees as the well worn path turned south. The first few days all she noticed was that Beken and Galyew were especially quiet with much of their energies exerted on avoiding the plentiful bandits and monsters that were preying on the steady stream of dispossessed people.

They stayed the third night in a stone cottage that Gared found high above the trail. Again, like her old home and the fastness up near Borlis, it overlooked the landscape. She felt comfortable there, knowing that it was a place created by someone like Jael; a place along the road for a safe rest and easily defended.

She curled up on a stone shelf and made room when Gared climbed in beside her. In the dim light of the fire she pulled furs and blankets over both of them. The ranger rolled over to face her.

“We haven’t talked.” He whispered. “You should part from us in Lion’s Arch and find Kouric yourself. What I know of him is that he can be found near Bergen Hot Springs this time of the year. He’s not exactly social, but I know of him…as far as I know he’s never had a student.”

“What’s Twistwood?”

“Ah now that is a long story.”

“Does it have anything to do with the amber orb?”

She felt him tense beside her and then a long sigh was released.

“How in Melandru’s name do you know about that?”

“I found it in Galyew’s robe. There is a girl inside of it…with long black hair…sleeping.”

“Dale.” Gared whispered with exasperation. “I don’t want you involved. I cannot stand to see someone else die for this folly.”

“I am stuck here with you. I fight just as hard as you. I’m not a child.”

“No you certainly are not.”

“Then tell me about Twistwood.”

“Alright…I’ll tell you a story. There was once a guild named Sun Rising Fire. They had a beautiful hall on the Isle of Fog. Every morning the ocean socked it right in, but by noon it was clear and blue and flowers glittered with dew. It was a lovely place, and it was to this place that I came as a child to be trained. Sun Rising Fire dealt in hides, jewels, steel and furs and all sorts of things that you find in the Maguuma. It was a wealthy house and we could hold our own against raiders and such. We had good stone walls, and any pirate approaching would get a greeting from our trebuchet.

Many years I dwelled there. I wed to Doulin Blacktide. She and I were two sides of a coin. When the walls needed defending there we both were…in her power I was mighty and none could strike me down. We had a child, one as lovely as Doulin, with long black hair and deep green eyes as fey as the sea.”

“Doulin was your wife?” Dale remembered his reaction to her death on the mountain, so dispassionate and bereft of feeling.

“Shall I continue? Yes?”

“So one evening I was playing with little Ursula. I was aware that the lord was entertaining guests, but my presence was not required as I was an officer of the garrison. In the hall I could hear merriment and singing and perhaps I was not alert because I loved our little games; we ran through the trees playing hide and seek. She was lovely like her mother, but she was as swift as her father. I had high hopes for her and her laugh in the forest was better than any music in the hall.

It was getting dark, so we stopped our game and we walked for home. I heard screams coming from the hall. I had no weapons and was wearing no armor. I wanted to run towards battle, knowing that my wife was there, for she played the lute and loved nothing more than to play for our people. Yet I could not leave Ursula.

I brought Ursula to a sea cave and ran back…but flames had erupted and as I slinked in the shadows watching our erstwhile guests slaughtering the last of our guards I saw that they had Doulin. They had bound her hands and tied a sack over her head. She kicked and screamed. She shouted for me, but they dragged her aboard the ship and I was alone.

I escaped from the isle and took Ursula to Lion’s Arch and soon discovered from the guild emblemer that it was Twistwood that had violated our hospitality. I wrote several letters to them and finally they set ransom on my wife at five thousand gold. I worked all summer to earn the sum. Twistwood was good to their word and I got her back. Twistwood did not treat her kindly and she was thin and scarred when at last I met her on the pier. I tried to love her and Ursula tried in vain to get her attention, but she was as cold and distant as the moon.

They had damaged her in some essential way and she had difficulty using her holy powers. For a year we continued to work as mercenaries until one day we came across Beken and Galyew. I should have known they were trouble, but we were alone and they had the offer of a hall and perhaps somewhere peaceful where Doulin could recover.

Then after a few months I noticed that Doulin spent time with Galyew and that with him she seemed more at ease. I was glad to see her smile for the first time in years. I did not begrudge Galyew her attentions, for the passion of our love was long gone, but I cared for her. I had Ursula, and teaching her everything I knew filled my day and brought me joy despite the sorrows of Doulin.

It was Galyew who instructed me to go the Crystal Desert and commune with the ghosts that abide there in the wastes. In travelling there I learned how to transform blood to energy for others. I was an unwilling disciple, but the first time I sacrificed for Doulin I saw her smile and it was a welcome ray of sun on my heart. She touched the blood on my arm and she marked my face with it. Almost everyday I did this for her and each time she would mark me. I regarded it as her silent revenge, a way of signifying our shattered partnership. I bore it without a word. She never told anyone what Twistwood had done to her.

In those years I did not want to leave Doulin. I think I believed some day she would forgive me for not being there on that awful night. I never realized that Doulin spoken to Galyew about our old hall. The Isle of Fog has many sea caves and for generations the guild had hidden its riches deep in hidden vaults. She knew from listening to her captors that they never found the treasures and I suspect that they tortured her to find the location. Though Doulin knew of it, I am the one who knows how to reach them.

In the summer of last year I was noticed by Edesil as they were in need of a ranger for the sacred games. I took Ursula with me to Sky Gate’s hall and I was given every respect there. I even grew to love some of them, and it was an honor to fight with them in the name of Balthazar.

In my absence Beken decided to raid Twistwood’s outpost on The Isle of Fog. He was convinced that he could claim the island and when I came back he would have me lead him into the caves. I blame myself now, for I thought that this attempted conquest was merely part of the way Beken is. I never connected it to the location of the treasure, for truly I had given it up for lost and moved on.

Beken loves a good battle and that year there were several challenges that he made against neighboring guilds. It was part of how Iron Thorn survived; by raiding weaker guilds. The alliance tolerated them because the revenue was good, even if other alliances began to take notice and take an active dislike to all of Sky Gate’s allied guilds. The fight at the Isle of Fog was brutal by the account I heard, but the team captured one of Twistwood’s officers.

Though Twistwood ransoms the prisoners it takes they do not pay ransom for members no matter how powerful. Beken tried to get a fortune for him, but each day with no response he was forced to lower the demand. One day Beken was frustrated so he took the prisoner and executed him. Without telling anyone Beken sent the severed head back to Twistwood. This provoked a rather nasty response from a large and well organized guild.

First Twistwood attacked Iron Thorn and discovered it was a poor guild, so they challenged Sky Gate itself. I was there for that battle, a proper ritual affair with the power of Balthazar invoked. We fought long and well, but Twistwood wore us down and we were forced to bow down at the end. If we had won Twistwood would have left, but having all eight of us at their mercy, they demanded and received half of Sky Gate’s treasury. They also took our best mesmer to their prisons and we have not heard from her again.

Iron Thorn had a huge debt, a damaged hall and nothing to show for their folly. However as I was not an officer and there was nothing for me at Iron Thorn, I was ready to petition Sky Gate for membership. I had fallen in love with Reni Valadia, a warrior with whom I trained each day. I desired nothing more than to be at her side. However Beken demanded I come home and since my petition was not yet accepted, I was honor bound to go back.

As I said, I was not aware how much Doulin had told them about the vaults. I am perhaps the only living person that knows where Sun Rising Fire kept its wealth. Beken and Galyew had not given up on it. We had gone to Yak's Bend and Edesil met me there and told me I was accepted to Sky Gate. Being at heart a polite man, I told Beken I was leaving. The other guild members were still arriving so I stayed for a short time to help. Of course I had young Ursula with me as always. I curse the day that I did not simply leave with Edesil; his people would have defended me as their own.

The morning when I was to leave they took Ursula away. Galyew did something to her...he showed me that orb...and when he awakens her, all she does is scream. In the face of that...the last few weeks I do everything he asks...I refused the invitation of Sky Gate. I have not spoken of it to anyone else. Doulin... she never gave any indication that she worried for our daughter...and for that I will never forgive her on this side of the Underworld or the other. All Galyew wants is the treasure. I hope that is enough for him and he will set us free."