Another Fleck of Darkness

 




Part 1

Part 2

The company of twenty Jirrah warriors moved through the night-clad forest, their way lit by blazing stars and a few dim lamps scattered along the line of march. For being so heavily armed and armored, they moved with minimal noise across the dewy land, a mark of their expertise that never failed to impress Droth.


They made a hasty camp with bedrolls, woolen cloaks, and sleeping furs. Talk was hushed and professional. Ritter, one of their own, was in trouble, and the mood was somber.

Droth simply sat with his back against a tree and, wrapped in his cloak and hood against the early Spring chill, nibbled jerky and sipped water. The digestion would keep him warmer; it was an old woodsman trick.

Well before sunrise, Droth tapped Briar, the company commander for this adventure. "I'm heading out earlier than we discussed. The more I think about it, the more I think I'll need extra time to convince her to help us."

"Good luck. I'll see you there."

Droth heard a low growl, a raven's voice.

"She wants to know why you are leaving," Flint said sleepily. Ritter's raven friend was just another fleck of darkness nestled among Flint's blanket folds.

"Tell our dear Farsinger I go to find an ally."

Flint cooed and growled in Ravenspeech. Farsinger responded in kind.

"She says to hurry." She cooed some more. "She says your ally will need a big sword."

Droth smiled. "I think she will approve." He vanished into the night, lighting his lamp when he was far from camp. To watching eyes, he would appear to be just another traveler on an early morning errand. 

He hoped.


Part 4


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