12th month, 17th day 967

  Victor

  Illiana and I didn't need very much time to get ready; just two days to get everything we needed. In fact, the thing that took the longest was the scribing of Transmission scrolls; with four of them between us we could get a message to the others if we had some sort of emergency. I actually left my smartphone with Meli for a couple of reasons. First of all, Mal was interested in adapting Shakespeare, so she was going to start transcribing his plays directly from the pdfs. Secondly, our country bun-kin wanted to experiment with a way to create a home charging system for it. Once we'd had breakfast and made sure Selafyn was ready we were off!

  This was a date rather than an adventure but I knew that this world was a dangerous place, so you can bet we packed our battle gear just in case. Since we weren't planning on fighting anything today, Illiana wasn't wearing her utili-corset. Instead she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, a lovely woolen vest, and some winter leggings under her signature forest-green cloak. Selafyn wasn't taking chances either, but he didn't even bother taking off his armor and was more than happy to lounge in the back seat fully kitted out. With a fully-functional heater and a princess snuggling up to me I didn't need to wear much more than a shirt and pants while driving.

  Our destination was Gandore's Gorge in Andalon, and we really only had one stop to make on the way: we always made it a point to lay some fresh flowers on Elice's roadside tomb whenever we took the west road out of Anaura. Last time I was in Andalon I went straight through on the way to Daz Grund; this time I'd need to turn north and cruise around Harold's Crest: the modestly-sized mountains separating Cara from Andalon. As I may have said before, the landscape of Andalon was a bit more rugged than Cara's with jagged hills and flat mesas scattered throughout. In terms of the overall look, it was somewhere between Catalonia and Andalucia, but I'd have to dig deeper in order to find out if it had a Mediterranean climate to match. We decided to drive more casually to really drink it in, and Selafyn was excited to be back in his homeland.

  He said, “This valley gradually climbs up to a high plateau where my home town is. You’ll see little rivulets and creeks as you go by. West of here it gets more mountainous, and let me tell you-”

  Selafyn went on like this for a while and I listened with genuine interest of course. It wasn't a straight trip by any means, going northwest, because we had to negotiate around forests and mountainous branches. There were a couple of rivers we had to cross and Selafyn showed us where the bridges were at, where available. In fact he was full of information about Andalon and even circled some spots on our map for us to visit later. The northern highlands of Andalon were less settled than the south but there were some mountain villages scattered throughout.

  Eventually we found ourselves just outside of a river-side town at the edge of a sheer cliff - the river ran from Harold's Crest and spilled into a wide, open gorge several miles wide and God only knows how deep. On the other side of the gorge, through a bluish haze, I saw a grim, dark forest - wait - hold on, that was Grimdark Forest wasn't it? I checked the map and confirmed, yep! But gazing upon it I felt something…a sense of foreboding oppressive evil such as I never felt during my trek to Fayd’s base of operation. Illiana clinged to me, ah, I suspected she must have felt the same thing I did. I turned my eyes away from the forest and instead looked at the geological wonder that lay beneath my feet.

  "That is Gandore's Gorge," began Selafyn, "Created by Archmage Gandore back when he was adventuring with the first King of Andalon, Harold Blade - er no relation. Evil things were coming out of the Deep Grimdark and messing things up here and Old Gandore was kinda fed up with it so he decided to cut the forest off." He did a chopping motion, "With a spectacular display of earth magic he cut through the land itself, mountains included. See that river? It used to flow south towards the Narrow Sea. Old Gando' also made sure to cut a channel so that the gorge wouldn't just fill up with water. The outlet is west of here somewhere. Then some enterprisin' soul thought the view was so spectacular that he built a town right along the cliff."

  Now that he mentioned it, I did find the shape of the valley we’d traversed kind of odd - so, it was a riverbed missing its main course. Wait, is “main course” even the right - nevermind, not the point.

  "That's pretty amazing," I said. I think I finally understood why pops, er, King Illorend, decided to stop here back whenever he was on his way to visit the dwarves. It was very out of the way but also a spectacular sight with clear historical importance.

  Illiana said, sorrowfully, "Gandore was a great man." She squeezed my arm tighter. "He was one of the archmages who died, back then, to Spellscourge."

  I knew I'd heard that name before! Was it Mal, Nenewyn, or Sylfie that had told me? Either way, damn. Add this to the long list of reasons to hate the Black Order.

  Selafyn clicked his tongue, "Yeah we heard about that here. That really sucked. My neighbors, the Book family, are actually descendants of his and the news broke their hearts. To think that it was deliberate." He paused, thoughtfully, as his hair blew in the wind, "Well, anyroad, come! We're just in time for supper, I think."

  We agreed - we were pretty damn hungry actually, having lost track of our own vital functions due to all of the fun we were having on the road. I drove us into town, of course we got the usual crowd of awed onlookers, and found a suitable place to park across the street from a somewhat large two-story inn. There were two signs - one to the left of the door which read "Valyrian slept here" and one above the door with the name of the establishment: "Helen's Leglock Inn".

  "Helen's what?" I didn't even want to know…but of course I already knew, instinctively, what was meant by leglock.

  With Selafyn taking point we burst through the front door. There wasn't much to say about the common room, it was a cozy place and indeed I could detect the distinct aroma of fresh soup or stew in the air. There was a moderate amount of patrons eating and drinking; not terribly crowded but I wouldn't call it sparse either. All eyes were on us as we entered.

  Selafyn declared loudly "Ma, I'm home!"

  "Selafyn, is that you?"

  A woman with shoulder length gray hair and a black patch over her left eye emerged from the kitchen carrying a large pot of stew. She put down her burden and rushed forward to embrace Selafyn.

  "Ah, my boy, how long has it been this time, ten years? My word I didn't think you'd get any taller but oh, mercy, perhaps I've gotten shorter."

  The usually carefree Selafyn's face was wrought with concern, "Yer lookin' as vibrant as ever, ma. I have lots of stories to tell ya and," he pulled out a sack from his magic backpack and jostled it, "I brought ya a fat stack of gold."

  "Oh my! But more importantly, won't you introduce me to the friends you've brought? Hullo there, I'm Helen Blade, the owner of this humble establishment."

  Selafyn startled. "Gah! Right. Actually, these two are family - this is my aunt Illiana and since Victor here is her fiancee that means he'll be my uncle some time soon."

  "Aunt? Do I take that to mean-"

  Illiana bowed nervously, "I am Illiana Verissa tael Anaura, fourth princess of Anaura. Valyrian is my big brother. I am so sorry for his disgraceful behavior, Miss Blade!"

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  "Disgraceful? Not at all - we're both adventurers, well, I used to be at any rate. I told that man in no uncertain terms that I was interested and of course he said when the oats come to the pot ‘tis time to make porridge - and boy did we make a lot."

  Illiana squeaked in embarrassment and buried her face in my duster.

  Helen continued, "And you won't believe how much business that little tryst of ours brought me; so many newlyweds want to rent out the Valyrian suite in the hopes that they'll have strong children and-"

  I waved my hand, "Right, right, I think I could do with a little less detail. Anyway. I'm Victor Alexander Kirkland - adventurer by trade."

  "Pleased to meet you! I had thought you had that look about cha, yes, it takes one to know one as they say. Well, well, why don't I get you all set up for some of my famous stew and we can all swap stories?"

  Great idea. Better than having to hear about Val "on the job" - poor Illiana was red as a beet and I wanted to spare her from this line of conversation. Surprisingly bashful for someone who had been enthusiastically “saving a horse” last night, so to speak. So we all sat down together and started regailing our hostess with tales of our adventures - occasionally interrupted by a random townie swinging by to say hello to Selafyn; he was pretty popular, I gathered. As promised, the stew was thick and savory with thick chunks of salty goat meat; it was superb, the kind of rustic small town fare I'd come to love. We got to hear a repeat of what we knew Selafyn had been up to for the past ten years; that ogre near Anvilgrund, that time he got chased by giant spiders after disturbing their nest, and of course recent events-

  "So after leaving the Gaian Waste I finally met pops. He's pretty much just like you described him, and I even watched him slay a dragon firsthand!"

  Helen giggled, "How thrilled was he to find out he has such a charming and talented son?"

  "He still doesn't know, ma. I - er - couldn't find the right time or the right words. We were having so much fun hunting, training together, and sharing drinks that I just couldn't come out and say it. He was treatin’ me like one of the guys and I didn’t wanna ruin it by making him think he had to treat me special."

  Helen sighed, "You two really are alike, oh dear. Well. I might as well tell you about that time my party and I took on a band of pirates. Now-"

  She went on for a while, and it was a thrilling tale of high adventure - but that is perhaps a story for another time. We went to bed, not in the Valyrian suite mind you, not realizing that a good night's sleep was the last thing we were gonna get.

  ***

  I awoke suddenly to Illiana's voice; she was shaking me vigorously and calling my name. When my eyes adjusted to the light I saw that her face was wrought with worry. Moreover, I could hear shouting from outside as well as the sound of horns. I looked out the window and saw smoke - fire coming from the east side of the town. I leaped to my feet.

  "Come," I said. Her brow furrowed and she nodded.

  Wasting no time we threw on some basic clothes, rushed downstairs, and ran across the street to where I'd parked the car. We didn't have time to put armor on, but at least we could grab our weapons; I took my arming sword, my buckler, and my Colt 1911 while Illiana grabbed her saber and longbow. While we ran towards the pillars of smoke I started to hear the clangor of battle; yeah, steel against steel was unmistakable. Illiana cast a magic armor spell on herself, and on me. Just as we were wondering what the hell was going on we got our answer as five sallow, bow-legged orcs with slimy skin appeared in the street - we struck first. Illiana drew back her bow and chanted. The tip of her arrow glowed with brilliant golden light, then she loosed the arrow which plunged into the lead orc's chest - golden flames burst out of the wound and the orc fell dead. Illiana took a second shot and eliminated another one; a burly fellow with little armor and a pair of axes. As they drew closer I selected the most heavily armored one and took him out with two rounds of .45; one shot may have been enough for an armored human but these guys were made of tougher stuff.

  The remaining orcs dashed forward and closed in - one in breastplate the other in grubby mail; they both had black scimitars. The two of us drew our swords and a fierce melee ensued - they tried to get around and flank us but we knew better than to let them do that. I'd noticed that with orcs it was relatively easy to feint and trick them into leaving their guard open - so that's what we did. Illiana did a quick swipe with her saber to draw the mail-clad orc's attention only to use her wind-leap to do a somersault above his head and land behind it where she proceeded to fire a point-blank stone rifle spell that she'd been forming while midair. Black ichor sprayed everywhere and the orc dropped. Now we had that last orc surrounded, and so we made quick work of him. We moved on - there were screams - shit!

  Around the corner we found two more orcs attempting to drag a woman out of what was presumably her home - we cut them down quick, checked to make sure the woman wasn't wounded, and kept going. Just a little further and we came to where the town's night defenders were fighting a whole band of the foul creatures. They seemed to be holding their own for the most part, keeping in formation against the press of their foes, but that wasn't gonna last. Some had already fallen and judging by the state of their bodies they were beyond help.

  "Go heal the defenders, I'll attack their rear!"

  "Right!"

  Illiana used her wind-leap to join up with the town defenders; she used an area heal which had an immediate effect on their morale. Some four or five wounded got back up, retrieved their weapons, and rejoined the front line. While I was maneuvering to get behind the orcs I witnessed a horrific sight as one of the orcs took a swing with his two-handed falchion; the attack caught one of the guards in his collar and bit into his breastplate. Illiana yelped and tried to heal his wounds, but it was too late; that attack had severed his neck, and he probably died instantly. Then I came in with my arming sword in my right hand and bowie knife in my left, striking at their unprotected rear. I slew three of them before they realized I was there. One turned to hit me, but I ducked and rolled; that orc took a spear to the face from one of the guardsmen for his troubles. Ha, made him look - ain’t I a stinker? It went on like this until each of the dozen or so orcs was dead. I wasn’t completely unscathed having taken some glancing blows here and there, but nothing serious.

  The captain greeted us, "Thank you - we would surely have fallen were it not for your timely intervention."

  "Just doing my good turn for the day," I said with my signature three-finger salute, "We fought some on our way here, there could still be more in town."

  "Aye, I had feared as such - very well," he turned to his men and started barking commands.

  Illiana was by my side, and she had tears streaming down her face.

  "I couldn't save him," she said, casting her gaze down, at trembling hands, "Sir Victor I - I tried to heal that man and - it wasn't enough. I could see the moment of death, the moment that his very life force was snuffed out. My heal connected but he still…he still-"

  At that point she began to bawl uncontrollably. I immediately pulled her in and squeezed tightly. Her hair reeked of orc bile but what did I care? Yeah. I'll stick my damn face in it if I have to if it means comforting my fiancee. Greasy, mucous orc blood be damned she's getting hugged. I caressed her cheek and gave her a kiss - we both had black ichor on our faces.

  "Hey. You still saved lives out there, darling. Some of those guys looked pretty roughed up and now look at 'em ready to jump back in."

  She smiled at me, "Thank you, my love."

  We squeezed each other a little tighter and then pulled back - we still had a job to do. There were more fires closer to the center of town, more screams. Illiana used water and wind magic to deal with the fires as we ran past them and I told passers-by where they could find that captain we met. I wondered where Selafyn was, but I didn't have to wait long. When we reached the town square we found another contingent of night guards, together with recently roused citizen militia. Selafyn was duelling with a large orc warrior armed with two cruel-looking black bladed swords; he was taller than the average orc I'd gotten used to and much more muscly. There was an oversized wolf corpse lying on the fountain at the center of the square; I supposed this to have been the orc's mount.

  Selafyn was holding his own but I'm not one to risk a friend's life for the sake of "respecting the 1v1" - besides, he's family! The orc didn't know what hit him - I got behind him and fired my Colt at point blank range, twice. This merely staggered it, but it gave Selafyn an opening to scissor its head off. Selafyn only had time to thumbs up me in thanks, for the fight was still on. The rest of the orcs were seemingly disheartened after the death of that big one and fled - chase was given but there was no telling if we got them all. The only thing that was clear was the fact that we’d won the night.