[Wyvern]

CHAPTER SIX:

While resting in the hot-spring baths in Ishad N'ha (or Ishad N'ha-ha-ha, as travellers from the Wyvern's Glen were wont to call it), Missy Hissy came to realize that while she was certainly adept in the arts of the Paladin, her heart was not in it. Killing things in the name of one's god only made sense to her if the god actually spoke to you; killing them because someone else claimed god spoke to them just didn't seem right. And while she didn't dispute others' conversations with their gods, she didn't like the feeling of being obligated to support them.

Towelling off and slipping into her gear, she headed to the armory to pick up her sword, and to return the dagger she'd borrowed in its place. Never made sense to be without a weapon, dad always said. She struck up a conversation with the guildmaster about her current frustrations.

"Would that the temple appreciated the need for a strong sword," she said, admiring the repair work done on her longsword. "Then this might be put to better use."

"Problems with the high-and-mighties," asked the Guildmaster. "'Tis true -- the only swords they trust are the ones they control themselves."

"Aye," replied Missy. "Some days I don't know as I trust their direction much any more. And the justification for whatever needs doin' is that the gods will it so. Less gods and more action, I'm thinking."

The Guildmaster looked her up and down. "You've been picking up well on your training, as I've seen it. Perhaps it may be time for you to consider the way of the ranger -- the mighty warriors of the woods. The only one you answer to is Mother Gaea, and there's little chance of misunderstanding her wishes."

Missy looked at him. "What's involved?"

"Find the mightiest of earthly creatures," he said, "and then find the bridge from yesterday to the tomorrow, the seed of the future."

"Find a dragon?" asked Missy. "And then what? Bring it back like a circus puppy?"

"Not a dragon, for a dragon is a mystical beast, not an earthly one. Find a raptor and convince it to part with one of its eggs, one of the offspring that will bring it into the future. Then will you know the perils and dangers that the woodlands face, and then will you be able to protect it."

"This, I can do," said Missy. And she left, outward into the lands north of Ishad N'ha in a quest for the egg of a raptor.

Walking through the woods, she was beset upon by worgurs, but apparently of a different breed than those she had been seeing. Apparently, some worgurs had been cross-bred in the area north of Ishad N'ha in some bizarre experiment, and these had escaped.

She stumbled across a small cottage and a fellow sister, Erzebette, who knew nothing of raptors but talked of a great dragon, a small gnome, and a bronze beast. Amazing what happens when one spends too much time with the berries and wood lice. Still, she promised to deliver a letter to the gnome, should she happen to find him. Thanking Erzebette for the warnings about the supposed dragon, she headed out and north, away from where the dragon was supposedly flying.

She soon discovered a burnt-out cottage, home to a flock of bats. As the bats left, she heard a nasty voice -- one from far back in her past. "Oh, isn't that special - a weary traveler seeking refuge. We'll find some places to rest your valuables...*cackle* "

She recognized Scanthril, although she doubted he knew her. She had been a mere lass when her father testified about Scanthril's misdeeds at the Ratttown stockyards. The elders of Ratttown had held back from actually executing Scanthril, but they had barred him from town on pain of execution. Missy's father had been the star witness... and three weeks later, he was found dead behind the Ratttown Rathskellar, a black assassin's dagger slipped neatly between his ribs. He never spoke, and Scanthril was never seen again.

"You're not with the Hidden Circle, are you?" she asked. "Gorthius -"

"Hidden Circle? Not hardly, heh heh. You're in the clutches of the Black Hand," said Scanthril, "and we've got a little proposition for you. Empty your gold, and taste your freedom."

Missy Hissy carefully took out one of the gold stashes she now kept in her gear, one with a mere few hundred gold in it. "'Tis not much," she said, "but 'tis all I have, save my quick eyes and keen blade."

"Hmmm..." said Scanthril, eyeing the meager pickings. "Almost not enough to get a knife dirty... perhaps we can use those eyes and blade of yours. Hearken to the stout mines to find one of our missing bandmates, and I'll reward you enough that it's worth stealing back."

"All right," said Missy, her eyes watching the other ratts who had begun to materialize from the trees. "I'll find him. And then we can talk about rewards."

She headed down the path toward the Stout Mines when a flash of green went past her in the brush. Turning, she saw nothing, but remembered the challenge to find a raptor and convince it to part with its egg. Suddenly, her mind flashed back to an area she had briefly explored near the Toad Village, where large tracks and broken branches the size of her arms had abounded. She remembered thinking at that time that she didn't want to meet something that large, and now wondered if that might indeed have been a raptor. Settling her cloak on her shoulders, she headed back toward Ishad N'Ha to look at the clearing one more time. For some reason, she didn't really want to go looking for the stout mines right away.


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Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)