Stepping outside of the tavern, the tanned lady gasped ever so slightly at the rushing wind that entered her mouth as if to snatch her breath. The rain had ceased, and puddles of all shapes and sizes lay among the partially cracked cobblestones in the square. There was hardly a soul in the area, making the abandoned semi-small square look twice as large.

The lady took one moment to feel her surroundings and proceeded to her next destination. She felt free from the nauseating smell of alcohol in the tavern and stepped out as she was retching at the very thought. Now, she allowed herself to breathe freely and the wind continued to rush past her face. She reveled in the coldness of the wind and weaved in and out of alleyways and streets, wandering about until she found a plausible reason to explore. She stopped at the corner of a bakery to smell the last of whatever seemed to linger in the air and recalled the moment she met of nataS.

He truly was a pleasing time killer, she thought, what in the name of the High Priestess are you doing- rudely ignoring his farewell as he left the tavern? Mother...

She frowned at her own disapproval and looked up.

"It's been a while," she said aloud and pushed herself away from the building with the help of her staff. She headed towards the Clerist Tower to greet her priestess and renew her faith in God.

. . .

Two clerics opened the gate to the Clerist Tower's entrance. She nodded at them in amazement. A vision appeared of ten-year-old Azhure letting go of Uncle Smitts' work-callused hand as these two clerics opened the gate for her the very first time. The guards smiled warmly at her and cleared the pathway.

Uncle Smitts smiled down at her reluctantly and patted her on the head, "I can't go with ye young un' but it's best ye have time to learn by yourself. Ye ought to be safe here so find pea--"

"Azhure?" A young man's hard voice interupted her thoughts. He was human. The young complexion he posessed made him look a few years younger than Azhure. The lack of confidence he had when approaching her made him come off as a mere messenger.
"Truly," she said humbly, placing her balance on both legs.
"The High Priestess demands your presence in her personal quarters."
"What, have I stumbled into trouble?"
"She gave no reason, only to be certain that you are led to her chambers. She has been rather...shocked at the current situation."
"Fine, wha--"
"Shall I escort yo--"
"No."

She winked at him sarcastically and walked off. She arrived at her door after tracing back her footsteps two or three times. Well-trained clerics kept a diligent vigil - no doubt - around the doors and immediately opened it as soon as Azhure gave a confused nod. She passed by the gargantuan marble columns, golden veins shooting in all directions.

"A tea party, I presume?" Azhure stood a few feet away from the door, arms akimbo, with a smile on her face.
"Azhure, my dear, I trust thy bite is still sharp?" She sat on the edge of her bed, raising her head from a jaded book.
"Only when necessary," her smile grew as the High Priestess took her into her arms, "You are in distress?"
"Scouts have been patrolling the area heavily lately, life is so hard to trust nowadays. That's how I knew in advance you were coming," she sighed and released her from her grip and prepared an herbal drink. Arne, the High Priestess' adopted pet, climbed up Azhure's robe and buried itself in her hair.
"What happened?" The two allowed a moment of silence to overcome the room; Azhure found it a convenient time to make a formal bow to her priestess. Although the two acted similar to kin, appropriate greetings were still in order.
"A group of traitors has breached the walls of the tower recently, my dear. They have stolen a variety of weapons in hopes they could shatter the tower to pieces against our God."
"...I can..." Azhure drank silently as she took the vague information in hand, she stroked Arne every now and then.
"We've stopped them. However, Mithren's Archaic Staff of Slaying has not been recovered. They managed to hide it outside of the premises and it could be anywhere! Our issue is that one remains free; Pylusen is strong enough to use it. You were his only close friend when you were a child," the priestess' voice broke at the statement.
Azhure got up and accepted the mission, for who in this cursed island would dare to reject such an order from the High Priestess herself? Unknowingly, she had carried Arne out with her as she left the tower. The priestess did not find it a problem, however.

The shock was evident in Azhure's glowing eyes despite the fact that she kept her sangfroid in tact. She understood why she was cornered into this quest. I am sure as the Outer Rim's hell that I am not doing this alone, she closed her eyes as guards wished her safekeeping.

. . .

She returns to the square, after some hours of travelling by foot, and stares mindlessly at a puddle. It isn't long before droplets dance and ripples grow. The final words of her priestess echoed through her mind, it may pose as a threat when discovering his lair, but you haven't been to the tower in several years. Perhaps he may still favor you...

"I need help," she said aloud, she stroked Arne and allowed her new pet to play in the rain. Its brown-stained fur turning into rich wires that cling to its body.


Manpower Limit: 2
Difficulty: 3

Athel gathered her things about her and stood alone on the dock. She glanced around and noted that the town seemed relatively quieter than usual. Sighing, she glided over the dock, her sandal-clad feet barely making a sound. Suddenly, she heard a small sound. She turned in the direction, her pointy Elvish ears twitching as she listened.

It must be a cat, she thought. It’s no surprise. There are many strays in these alleys.

Athel pulled a small bite of dried meat from her pouch and held it out in the direction of the animal, which apparently was hidden behind some barrels.

“I won’t hurt you,” she cooed softly. “Come on.”

Slowly one white claw emerged, then another, then a snout, and finally the whole head. Athel’s eyes flew open in surprise. This was no cat--it was a tiny dragon about the size of her hand. She had heard of these creatures. They were mini-dragons and more often seen in legend than by eye. What surprised her most was the coloring of this beautiful creature. It was stark white from wing tip to tail tip to snout, and its eyes were the same bright violet as Athel's own. Athel stifled an instinctive shudder that arose from the "coincidence."

She held her hand out the the mythical beast and it crawled happily into her palm. She checked its sex and satisfied it was female, she set it upon her shoulder, where it rested as if it had been there a thousand times before. It’s odd that the gods would choose such a time to give you to me, she thought. The dragon purred like a cat as if in response. Athel chuckled, her soft, rich laughter reverberating across the quiet streets.

Where is everyone? she wondered. Did something happen while I was gone?

Somewhat distressed by the thought, Athel quickened her pace in direction of her home, the Clerist Tower. The High Priestess would be able to tell her something. She hurried through the streets until she reached the square, where upon seeing another being, she slowed her pace. She gripped her staff in her hand in order to be ready for anything. She slowly approached the figure, and though it was dark and a bit dank, she could make out the familiar form of Azhure, a former questing companion.

I wonder what she’s doing here all alone in the Square. Most people awake at this hour are at the tavern it seems, she noted as loud laughter drifted over from the direction of Dinthron's Tavern and Brewery.

“I need help.” Azhure’s voice drifted over as Athel set foot inside the square. Who is she talking to? Herself I suppose...Athel rolled her eyes to herself, realizing she was doing the same, just not aloud. Then again, I always do. Since she was an Elf, Athel’s footsteps could not even be heard upon the street as she approached Azhure, who had her back turned.

“May I be of service?” Athel asked softly as she pushed a few strands of hair from her face.

Her response drew a jump and a gasp of surprise from Azhure, whom was obviously surprised by Athel’s approach. Athel kept her hood low over her face in order that the shadow it cast might hide her small smile.

“I did not mean to alarm you,” she spoke softly. “It seems you are in distress and I was wondering if I might help you.” She pushed her hood back slightly. “I am Athel Vanya. You may remember me from our quest to destroy the Priestess.” She bowed her head slightly in respect to the Faith at the mention of one of its dead leaders.

"May I be of service?" a soft voice said not far from behind. Azhure recognized the voice as Athel Vanya, the elf who had assisted her on her last adventure; even so, her sudden response surprised Azhure greatly.

"I did not mean to alarm you, it seems you are in distress and I was wondering if I might help you," she gently pushes her hood back, "I am Athel Vanya. You may remember me from our quest to destroy the Priestess." She bowed her head somberly and continued to look at Azhure.

Azhure blinked at the irony in her choice of words, thinking back to the moment when she asked if her Priestess was in distress. She smirked and uttered bloody hell in her head. Arne stopped splashing around and followed Azhure as she took a step toward Athel.

"Have you any errand to run? If you say that what you can handle might be helped, then I suggest you accomplish what little jobs you ought to finish." Azhure added a friendly smile, barely noticing how rude she was. She did not take to being startled very easily. Her little friend, Arne, climbed up her robe and sat on her right shoulder to carefully examine the exotic dragon that looked back at him.

"To answer your question, some rebellion has been provoked around the Clerist tower, and now one cleric remains in the Outer Rim with Mithren's Archaic Staff of Slaying," she looks up at Athel and wonders if she understands the danger in her quest.

"I am being situated in this mess by orders of the High Priestess for my connections with him may still ring true. Of course, a dearth of contact has made this quest difficult to predict," Azhure licked her lips and steps closer to Athel. The expression of the little dragon seemed to mirror its owner and caused Azhure to stare at the two in an ill manner. She sprang back to her previous state, "what little there is left of befriending may seem to be the only key, but his corrupted mind may smart us, have you any assistance to provide once more my fellow cleric?"

Now she stands, staff in hand, looking for some favorable expression on whatever seems visible of Athel.

Athel blinked her large, purple eyes as Azhure replied smartly to her offering of service. Not quite sure how to take it, Athel pulled her hood low over her face once more. She felt a rumble eminate from her new dragon and she looked to see a small rodent studying the white-skinned-purple-eyed pair closely.

That looks like the High Priestess's pet. Maybe it was a gift to her. I could be very wrong though considering that over about the 200 years I only come to the Clerist Tower for short visits. I suppose I would still consider it my home, but I just don't know the current clerical generation well at all. I wonder what they think of me...

Athel was jarred back to reality by Azhure's voice. "To answer your question, some rebellion has been provoked around the Clerist tower, and now one cleric remains in the Outer Rim with Mithren's Archaic Staff of Slaying," she was saying. She then proceeded to study Athel closely.

Rebellion?! I have been distancing myself if I didn't even see this coming, and it's all ready over...well mostly I suppose. I wonder if she's implying that she wants my help. This quest could be quite dangerous but I'm more than willing to help in returning such a precious item to my home.

Athel listened as Azhure began to speak again.

"I am being situated in this mess by orders of the High Priestess for my connections with him may still ring true. Of course, a dearth of contact has made this quest difficult to predict."

Connections? Odd...I wonder what she means by that.

Azhure stepped closer to Athel but then suddenly stepped away with a glimpse of dislike in her expression.

Odd...

Suddenly her dragon hissed in her ear. Athel cringed and reached up to lay a comforting hand upon its neck.

"What little there is left of befriending may seem to be the only key, but his corrupted mind may smart us, have you any assistance to provide once more my fellow cleric?" Azhure finished and then stood in a prepared stance.

Athel stroked her dragon unconciously as her mind wandered over the possiblities of such a venture. I suppose I don't see why not. Azhure seems well enough, for a human, and I would be glad to aid a cause for the Faith.

Athel bowed her head slightly. "I would he honored to offer my assistance, Azhure. We cannot let such blatent disrespect for the Faith go unchecked."

I hope I don't regret this... she thought as she sighed lightly.

The two figures stood amidst the darkness, crisp silhouettes from the moonlight were all that were visible from any angle. Only the chirps of crickets satisfied the silence about them now; insects flying blindly by the nearest lamppost.

"I would be honored to offer my assistance, Azhure. We cannot let such blatant disrespect for the Faith go unchecked." A slight bow, and that was it.

Azhure looked at Athel in a new perspective. Her mind wandered back to the time this clever elf discovered the method for destroying live carcasses - probably the only method - and then her mind jumped to the time the two were at the pub. She had refused my offer kindly then, and yet now she accepts a quest that may very well serve to be the spikes that our heads may settle upon snuggly.

With a resigned smile, she motions "peace" to Athel by the gestures that God had bestowed upon the unworthy Clerics who follow so faithfully. After Athel repeated her action, Azhure held out her hand in cooperation.

"I apologize for informing you brusquely, it was your sudden voice that alarmed me so..." She bit her lip, hoping that Athel would forgive her. "It is late at night after all, no one can be certain of what to expect -even at a popular square.-" She looked at the atmosphere and tasted the flavor of acrid alcohol mingling with the sweet hint of whatever nearby food shop was locking up for the night.

"I hope you do not mind my asking, I do not ask you to explain yourself but to give a mere answer. Why did you refuse to join the dwarf's conversation -back at the tavern -?" The two began to walk towards the outskirts of the town. Surely, anyone who enters a public tavern would be willing, if not jumping, at the opportunity to socialize. At some point, at least. She must carry much burden from her past over her shoulders, she's pretty old after all. Azhure giggled silently to herself as they were walking (silent enough so that Athel did not notice,) although she did feel terrible for her thoughts.

The sound of the crickets became louder, and few buildings were around. Tree branches would hang nearby. They continued walking on the one pathway they met and it was slowly turning from unbalanced cobblestones to the loud crunches of sand or dirt. Walking further along, the two wound up on plain forest ground, the pathway only noticeable by the constant feet that marched on the same grass.

Athel watched as Azhure gave the sign for peace. She pushed her hood back slightly and returned the gesture, then shook hands lightly with her.

"I apologize for informing you brusquely, it was your sudden voice that alarmed me so. It is late at night after all, no one can be certain of what to expect -even at a popular square.-" Azhure commented in way of apology.

Athel studied her closely. "Life is too difficult to add to with the weight of apologies." She grasped her staff lightly in her hand as her fingers worked the grains of wood. Her dragon purred in what seemed like disagreement.

"I hope you do not mind my asking, I do not ask you to explain yourself but to give a mere answer. Why did you refuse to join the dwarf's conversation -back at the tavern -?" Azhure asked as she began to walk.

Athel walked alongside Azhure and matched her steady pace to her human companion's. Her bright violet eyes flashed with some unseen emotion as she contemplated Azhure's question. "No matter the race, everyone dies eventually. I, on the other hand, have escaped my fate for about 1200 years." She turned her gaze to Azhure, her violet eyes intense beneath her ivory hair. "Loss can only be swallowed a small number of times."

Her dragon rubbed its head against her hooded cheek. Friends...companions....lover. All lost and never to return. My heart is weak. She sighed. I may have escaped my fate thus far, but who knows how much longer my heart will last. The cowards death has often seemed such a welcome relief, yet I cannot take it. Surely the gods have given me these many years for a reason, even if it is only to suffer for eternity.
...As an elf, my beauty is supposed to grow with time, yet I have never felt more ugly...

She sighed. "Socializing has not been my expertise for hundreds of years. My scrolls will keep me company till fate decides to finally knock at my door."

She breathed deeply as they entered the forest. At least amongst the trees she felt peace. Their bark could be wonderfully made into paper, their leaves assisted in putting life's breath in the air, and forever their bows would hide wanderers from the tormenting sun.

Azhure was not around the last time I visited the Tower.......though that may have been 100 years ago. I tend to lose track lately.

"When did you arrive at the Tower?" she asked Azhure as they continued down the faint path. Only Azhure's human feet crunched upon the path, yet the sound was barely audible. Athel's sandal-clad feet barely even imprinted upon the ground. She hadn't known many elves in her lifetime, yet of the ones she had known, none were as lightfooted as she.

Athel's thoughts began to drift to her childhood. She did not know who her parents were, nor did the High Priestess who had found her abandoned upon the stoop of the Clerist Tower. Like many of her kind, she vaguely remembered her years as an infant. She could see her mother's ivory locks and the violet eyes of her father as he looked down upon her. Athel had spent nearly the first millennia of her life searching for them, but she had found nothing--not even a trace of their existance.

If only I knew their name. I still find it somewhat embarrassing that the High Priestess gave me the surname Vanya. Fortunately, few people understand ther Old Language of the Elves.

Athel pulled her dragon from her shoulder and into her arms. She cradled it gently. I shall call you Eleni**, for you are like a star amongst the wreckage of life.

Her dragon purred and blinked its slitted violet eyes at her. Athel jumped. She could have sworn that it smiled.......

__________________
**Eleni (pronounce el-lin-eye) means Star in Quenya, an Elven language of Tolkien, but used her as meaning Star in the Old Language of the Elves

Azhure heard Athel's response and figured just as much; Athel gazed down at Azhure with piercing violet eyes. The human girl managed only a sufficient nod to show sympathy. As they walked further along the forest pathways, their surroundings transformed into sharp claws that scratched against their robes in the pitch black. A nocturnal creature would scamper away every now and then, causing bushes to shake and leaves to rustle.

The sharpness of Azhure's mind made her turn towards Arne, who had been looking around in a curious manner. The furry creature moved from her hood and gently jumped onto Athel's shoulder only to plop down onto the cat. Athel jerked slightly at the sudden movement but kept her composure. The two animal's guarded stance relaxed to a friendly-like vibe and they both lay on Athel's shoulder, keeping each other's warmth. Athel and Azhure smiled, but quickly returned to their previous moods.

"This is Arne, he's a pigeon hunter. The High Priestess supposedly gave him to me when I paid her a visit. Arne has probably been tamed...there are plenty of little animals here that he could have easily killed already," Azhure said. She thought that Arne's actions warranted a brief explanation to his origins.

"When did you arrive at the Tower?" Athel asked after some few minutes of silence.

"I was converted at ten years of age," Azhure said quickly, "I left after a few short years, my instructors said that there was nothing left to teach me, only to advance in my skill with the help of the outside world."

She waited for some sort of reaction from Athel but Azhure continued after noticing that she had been waiting patiently for more elaboration, "I...wander the soil of the Outer Rim trying to find justice that can somehow alleviate my history. However, I stand failed for there is nothing in the present that can relieve the past." She thought on her own words and thought of Pylusen.

. . .

"When are you returning?" the cleric said with sadness. The two were standing just before the gate of the Clerist Tower, both of their staffs at hand.

"I can't guarantee you an answer, but you will see me in a few years. When we are in trouble, we'll find each other, right?" Little Azhure smiled excitedly and held up her thumb so that his fingers interlocked around it (a personal greeting between the two.)

"Yes...we will," Pylusen's pale face brightened. It had begun to rain and his long golden hair, streaked with silver, stuck to his body. "Why do you have to leave?"

"You know as well as I do that I'm not comfortable in the same place," Little Azhure said. A pang of melancholy struck through her body but she knew that she would not be able to leave if she broke down.

The two embraced in the rain and Little Azhure left the gates. Pylusen was left to return, moping around in silence for the next few years.

. . .

"I was thirteen then..." Azhure muttered to herself. She raised her voice to show that she was talking to Athel directly now, "it's dark, should we continue on? We might find ourselves straying from the original pathway in the morning."

She stopped silently, and looked up at Athel.

Athel tucked her hands into the flared sleeves of her robe and turned sharp violet eyes to the surrounding forrest. It was beginning to grow quite dark, yet her Elven eyes adjusted easily against the waning light. Suddenly, a small object landed on her shoulder. Slightly startled, she turned to see that Azhure's small companion had jumped onto Athel's shoulder to study her dragon, Eleni. Eleni made no recognition towards the small creature except for blinking it's large, slitted violet eyes lazilly; though, Athel did notice that the scales on the back of it's neck raised slightly at the disturbance. The two animals regarded eachother closely and then settled back on Athel's shoulder, using eachother for warmth.

"This is Arne, he's a pigeon hunter. The High Priestess supposedly gave him to me when I paid her a visit. Arne has probably been tamed...there are plenty of little animals here that he could have easily killed already," Azhure said.

Athel nodded as she watched the creature dozing lightly amongst Eleni's warm scales. "That may come in handy."

"When did you arrive at the Tower?" Athel asked after some few minutes of silence.

"I was converted at ten years of age," Azhure said quickly, "I left after a few short years, my instructors said that there was nothing left to teach me, only to advance in my skill with the help of the outside world."

Athel nodded yet kept her bright violet eyes intent on Azhure as she waited for further explanation.

Azhure seemed to sigh as she expounded, "I...wander the soil of the Outer Rim trying to find justice that can somehow alleviate my history. However, I stand failed for there is nothing in the present that can relieve the past..."
Azhure's words seemed to drift off as her thoughts obviously turned to the past.

Athel tucked a stray strand of her ivory hair behind her ear and sighed. You are correct, human Azhure. No matter how I live in the present, my past will always haunt me. She reached up absently and allowed Arne to inspect her fingers as Eleni watched with jealousy.

Slowly, Azhure's thoughts seemed to draw back to the present. "I was thirteen then..." she muttered softly. Athel studied her with a slightly lost expression. Azhure blinked and turned her attention to Athel. "It's dark, should we continue on? We might find ourselves straying from the original pathway in the morning."

"We should make camp under the branches of those nearby trees. Their bows will minimize the light from our fire, as well as sheltering our familiars from unwanted animals," Athel replied, pointing to a small cluster of trees that had low hanging branches.

The two females began to set camp. Athel collected wood and slowly got a fire to blaze upon it. As its strength began to grow, she stared into it's flames. Sensing her mood, Eleni climbed into her lap and demanded her to pet its back. The corner of Athel's mouth twitched in a small smile as she stroked her new pet's back and tummy. You surely are unique, Starry One, she thought as she studied the tiny dragon's deep violet eyes. Why would the gods give you to me? I have done nothing in their favor....In fact, I do not even send them blessings as I should. I suppose it is difficult to place my loyalties when, as an Elf, I instictly feel connected to the gods of the earth, and yet as a Cleric I am supposed to give homage to the one God of the Faith. She scratched Eleni beneath the chin. I suppose I don't have to choose.

Eleni purred at her and then scampered after Arne. Athel watched, her violet eyes narrow with the intensity of unwelcomed thoughts.

Upon arrival to the cluster of trees, Azhure relaxed her shoulders and re-positioned her hair from inside her hood. A fire was started once Arne gathered enough wood, and Azhure sat beside the flames. Mesmerized by the fire that danced before her in quick movements, the girl contemplated on the mission while nibbling on a biscuit.

She took a final bite and looked at her fingers; the nails long and slender breaking off by layers as she continued to perform tasks, perfect crescent moons forming from the base of her nails, dirt lurking beneath them and around her callouses, and soft yet scarred fingers. She eventually opened her hand so that the piece of bread lay on her palm. She examined the lines that sometimes notated old age and fortune. Allowing her mind to roam freely, she thought of what the quest had in store for Athel and her. She thought of the potential treasure that they could earn once they accomplished the order, and then she thought of the consequences of accepting such an order. She closed her eyes and forgot about her thoughts for whatever time the night allowed them.

. . .

Azhure awoke early and sat in place until three other familiar life forms showed signs of awareness. A thick mist covers the forest so that vision is distorted from a few feet away. The fire died down to low embers, and Azhure poked at it momentarily. Animals in search of food often came by in curiosity, but fled just as quickly as they appeared. Azhure finished the last of her biscuit that she still held, and then grabbed her staff to wander off and find a large rock or tree trunk she could use while confiding in God.

Dearest God, it is only Your holiness that knows the misery in which I have placed myself. Muffling thoughts at the local tavern is hardly the method for purging my sins. My thoughts. I apologize greatly for my negligence, I am nothing but your worst worshiper, but I cling on to You as if you were the mother or father You so lovingly gave me.

Every day I manage to find reason to reflect on my past. - A vision of her crying mother on the scaffold with a rope around her neck flashed into her mind. The eyes of Rivkah forever etched into her memory. - I know not what to do with myself if I continue to linger in my sadness. I preach about happiness and bliss for religious lives when I am hardly what I speak of. How much of that makes me a hypocrite when my past haunts me as I walk across the Outer Rim? - A vision of her father, Borneheld, lying down in dirt interferes her thoughts. Little Azhure cries as she collapses before what is already an ordinary carcass. - This hypocrisy that engulfs me leaves me baffled. It is but the only reason as to why I try to veer off to a portion of my mind that does not contain You. I must search myself in order to find life within, as I was taught from the Clerics that follow You so faithfully. - The vision of Pylusen embracing her a final time strikes through her mind like a knife in the small of her back. - Therefore, I will leave You for now in order to do just that. Farewell, to the Faith, farewell.

Azhure continues to kneel as she let's her grasp on religion drift away from her, as if it was disintegrating with the thickening mist. She hears a scampering from afar and looks at the ground. A dark creature makes its way through the mist in her direction. She quickly makes the sign of the Faith as she snatches her staff for security, and the creature stops in its tracks by the sudden movement. Azhure rises and walks toward it with caution. It is Arne.

"Can you show me the way?"

Azhure follows at a walking pace while Arne scurries off excitedly. She quickens her pace once he disappears completely in the mist. It isn't long when Azhure reaches Athel and her dragon. Athel is seen straightening her robe and clearing what seems to be a satisfying breakfast. The fire had died to ashes. Azhure helped her clean up the residue of ashes and they continue to walk in the same direction they started. There was no form of conversation for at least an hour.

Athel decides to break the silence. "Have you any idea as to where we are heading?" She does not lift her eyes to look at Azhure.

"Pylusen and I used to sneak out late at night from the Clerist Tower. Not that we weren't allowed to... but we never informed anyone of where we were going. There is a cliff not too far from the tower that provides a spectacular view of the ocean. If we climb down to the shore, a small cave lies. We know that nobody has been to it before, we've left food and gold for a year or two and nobody claimed them." Azhure squinted her eyes to show that she was trying to calculate in her head. "We aren't too far. I smell the salt from the ocean. I can't guarentee that our quest will end here, but it's a start."

They continue marching through long grass and avoid the unwanted ground that seemed uneven. The day was starting off with cold weather, and the mist was still in its lively state. Azhure was able to sense another intellectual presence even though they walked through the mist that remained thick. She assumed Athel recognized the presence as well, but both of them made the assumption to not take action until something were to happen.

. . .

Half an hour later, Azhure and Athel found themselves standing on top of a cliff that reached out to sea. Azhure smiled and smelled the air.

Athel allowed her eyes to study her companions. Azhure seemed to be thinking quite deeply as she munched on a small tastry and the two animals were delighting themselves in a small pile of leaves. Athel stood and glided to the edge of their camp, her Elven eyes keen and alert. She sighed as she began to pace her breathing into what she liked to call "sleeping-awake" in which she went into a sort of meditative state in which she awoke from refreshed yet still alert enough to sense that which was happening in the outside world.

..................................Slowly Athel swam out from her sleeping-awake and looked around. Eleni had flown up and landed on her shoulder and was still there, sleeping lightly. Athel allowed herself to study Eleni for a time and marvel at the tiny mythical creature's beauty. She then looked around to see Azhure had already awoken and was staring into the fire. She seemed to be in very serious contemplation, so Athel decided to leave her alone.

She wandered close around the camp and found a small berry bush. Eleni seemed to be much delighted with it and immediately pounced it and stuffed its face full of the small red berries. Athel gave a small smile at the sight, picked a few berries of her own, and ate them slowly as Eleni held no bars.

Suddenly, Azhure walked up behind her and they began to walk in the direction they had begun in. Athel caught a glimpse of Eleni offering Arne a few berries. Cute, she thought.

Athel pulled her hood low over her face as they walked in silence. Azhure seemed to have had an interesting night. She was very quiet.

"Have you any idea as to where we are heading?" Athel asked, for once the one to speak first.

"Pylusen and I used to sneak out late at night from the Clerist Tower. Not that we weren't allowed to... but we never informed anyone of where we were going. There is a cliff not too far from the tower that provides a spectacular view of the ocean. If we climb down to the shore, a small cave lies. We know that nobody has been to it before, we've left food and gold for a year or two and nobody claimed them." Azhure squinted her eyes to show that she was trying to calculate in her head. "We aren't too far. I smell the salt from the ocean. I can't guarentee that our quest will end here, but it's a start."

Athel nodded. Apparantly the theif who had stolen the Staff was once a very close friend of Azhure's. She hoped this connection wouldn't impede their quest, but only help it. She sighed. She had thought she had sensed a presence before, and suddenly its aura increased. He/she/it must have moved closer. Ah well, if he/she/it has not attacked or harmed us, then we have no reason than to just moniter it's movements.

Athel breathed in deeply as they walked in silence for about thirty minutes. Slowly the feel of the sea grew as Athel could feel the mist upon her face. She sighed, unwanted tears rising to her eyes. Her love had been scattered upon the ocean, for he had found it more beautiful then any other earthen form. Every time she neared it, her heart writhed within her breast.

Athel squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and when she opened them again, the ocean was in full view. The two females gazed out upon it for a moment until their animals began to grow restless.

She picked up Eleni. Ethyndir would have adored you.... she thought as she stroked Eleni's bat-like wings. You being so rare...he would have studied you and researched about your kind for hundreds of years and left me to wait till his hunger for knowledge was temporarily satiated. Athel chuckled softly, a rare occurence for her, especially in thoughts of Ethyndir. Goddess, I miss him....................

Eleni squawked and flew in circles around her head. Athel waved her hands around, warding his playful clawings away.

"Okay, okay," she said aloud and then turned to Azhure. "Shall we find your cave?"

-- "Shall we find your cave?" Azhure snapped back to awareness and turned to a reluctant Athel almost in surprise. Athel had been pressing for an answer by the apparent look in her eyes and her dragon seemed to imitate her attitude with double the imprudence it once had when the two first laid their pupils upon the puzzled girl.

"Certainly, although I don't quite know how to go about this cliff safely with this insane mist." With that said, Azhure continued to be swallowed in the long-forgotten atmosphere, its memories shrouded in mystery by the inevitable mist. Sea birds are often heard but their bodies are never quite made out due to the morning fog that has yet to improve.

"There are no true trails that lead safely to the shore from here, I know no other way to reach them other than climbing down with great caution," Azhure walked towards the edge of the cliff unafraid and pointed down to the large rocks below, "and the fog is too thick for us to determine a stiff rock from a silly one."

Athel followed her and pondered over the current obstacle when she suddenly heard an odd movement from behind. Both clerics gripped their staffs tightly and looked in the corners of their eyes without daring to turn.

"Someone has apparently followed us, Azhure."

"I knew not that it was intentionally after us," Azhure muttered under her breath and hoped for the best for it was obvious that she had blindly led them into a corner.

Just after this realization a weak beam of light penetrated their position but they fortunately clung onto whatever was strong enough to withhold their weight. Arne ran for cover and Athel's dragon flew for safety, both creatures had a strong urge to defend them in some way but failed at doing anything useful. They wimpered and screeched helplessly along the sideline as the two females strived to maintain grasp on dry land.

The crashing waves were soon accompanied with large splashing sounds and rocks that collided with other rocks. Azhure worried that the cave would collapse from the abrupt attack, the cave had been hundreds of years old, afterall. She looked up and expected a figure to rise above them, or for the unfair judgment of the stranger to send the killing blow, but all she could see were the unexpected rocks that fell nearby and the unkind fog. She knew very well that this horrid figure took on the race of a cleric and that any one cleric would not dare to hurt another in the same belief despite the fact that she had abandoned her's just recently.

Azhure squinted her eyes in hatred - and also to avoid falling dirt from blinding her - and her jaw clamped tightly closed. She looked at her partner who seemed to express more worry than hatred and quietly asked her what to do. It is far beyond doubt that we have to climb back up and face this enemy in the most fragile position. But what then, we've hardly the strength to beat a cleric stronger than us...