Chapter One:
Tonto

My name is Leyawin Silverdrake, and within these pages you will find the chronicles of my life.I will not bore you with the details of my upbringing, such things are both sacred and secret, but I will tell you that I am an elf, and I am a mage, and as a member of the Silverdrake clan, you must know that we prize those dragons of Silver, and moreso, we pay great respects to He of the Platinum. I will also share that I was born a mage, as most of us were, with a single brother. I cannot tell you of him, for he left us in a state of rebellion againt our ways, I do not know where he is, he may as well be dead to me.

My adventure began shortly after my one hundred and twenty first birthday, with my parents out and our home to myself, I too set out on my own fancy in search of a dragonkin companion. I had such a great love of dragons and the like, and a great intrest in our namesake. I was, however, very ignorant in the ways of a travelor, moreso in those of an adventurer. I would not know how many hardships lay ahead for an elf girl like me, surrounded by books and robes for the first century of her life and with no firsthand knowledge of battle or other such suffering. I was so unprepared and yet undaunted, I left with nothing more than a simple pack, quills, inks, scrolls,a map, my spellbook,a rope, a few potions, a crossbow, bedroll, waterskin, my staff and a few other things.

I had heard news of a tower nearby in the forest of Thornwood that would have the information I needed about creating my own dragonkin familiar. The tower was perhaps only a few days walk on foot from our home, near Thornwood Village. I surmised that following the river to the tower would serve as the best course of action, I was so naiive.


It was late morning when I set out, cloth boots in thick mud, silken robes soon heavy with muck near the bottom hem. So many sounds I hadn't heard, things I had never seen, but it was quiet the first day as far as danger goes, and I spent that first night in a tree, tied to a shoddy limb with my rope. At the very least I was not robbed, but it was a terrible night and I awoke very early the next morning famished. I had not brought food, and was lucky to get through the morning after having srounged a few nuts and berries from the brush. I had nothing to fish with, and no skill for fishing, so despite my spotting of a few salmon, there was nothing I could do but gaze longingly as their red tails flicked at me mockingly on their way.


Around mid day I heard creature voices through the trees, but hurried by. I was not going to pick a fight, norI was not clever enough to think that casting Sleep and robbing the goblins of their wares would be a good idea, and back then, I naiively would have been much too polite to do such a thing; stealing from goblins, as if they deserved such respect.

However, on another whim of luck I came across an abandoned apple orchard, there was no sign that the orchard belonged to anyone, though it may have; time had removed any sign of home or hearth that may have once been near, and the lands were no longer kept. I took what I could carry,rations of apples enough to get me to the tower and I marked it's location on my map, thinking I would gather more on my return. It was then a thought struck me, walking along the river like this, dirtying and tearing my robes was frivolus and silly, and if I'd had half a wit I might have taken a boat up the river, beyond that I might have stopped at the village and bought myself better supplies before my wild jaunt into the forest, but standing around with a sack full of apples feeling sorry for msyelf wasn't getting me to the tower, nor back to Thornwood Village.

Rather than be sensible about it and turn back, I went on, and reached the tower on the third day at high noon. There's wasn't much to see, abandoned and large, it may have been an intimidating stucture in it's day,but even then it had potential, how much potential I had yet to understand.

The outer walls that had once been a protective barrier were crumbled, and one of the upper floors of the tower was severely damaged from what I could tell from my place on the ground. The courtyard was filled with debris and rubbish long overgrown grass and weeds. The main door to it's keep was broken and parts of it missing, so I entered with no trouble. Inside were shadows, broken wood of tables and chairs, two smaller tables that were in tact, though as I moved closer I could see the thick webs of spider silk clinging to the wood and to the cold stone floor, and then even up the walls. Of course, I expected to see such things from age, and abandonment. There was nothing in the tables apart from some silver pieces, which I pocketed, and then I turned to a particularly interesting pile of rubbish. I thought I spied something of intrest and kicked it, unfortunatley for me, a large spider came out at me suddenly. It was probably the most horrid thing I had seen in my life, with beady eyes and red-black hairy, spindle legs and fangs the size of my forearms. I was quick enough to avoid it's bite and smashed it with my staff, though it took a few tries.

Sick to my stomach I nearly turned back, but I am an elf, and we are learned to be less meek and more stubborn, regardless of our place.So I continued, there were a few rooms, a dirty wine sellar with spoiled meats, and then something far worse than the spider. Across from the sellar was what looked to be a small barraks, a tiny room with a few beds, and standing there at the foot were two soldiers, skelitons, the undead. Their eyes flickered to life with an eerie red glow as they sensed me, and came at me with unnatural vengence. Frightened, I made quick work of them with a magic missle, and a splash of acid and they fell to piles of old dust, bones and rust. I was happily unscathed, but found nothing in the haunted room that would aid my needs.Not that I wished to remain there.

Down the hall was a room for planning, there was a large table with a map showing another tower further up the foothills that was perhaps another three days travel from the ruins in which I stood. So I marked it down on my map, and searched for useful things, again finding only some coin in the cooking room before moving on. The next room had an odd stench that I couldn't place. It was another barraks, three beds, each with a chest at it's foot. One chest helf a staff, much like my own but it was heavier and sturdier, so I took it up, the next held rusted armor and coin, but the last chest had a horror all it's own. The source of the ordor exploded at me, for in the chest was the bloated and rotting corpse of a soldier,disgusted, I was nevertheless drawn to check his coinpurse and was not disappointed. Another rotting body of a soldier was found in the wardrobe,I feared how recent these murders may have been. But I did, on some whim, take the broken body of the soldier out of the putrid chest and lay him respectfully on the bed, in spite of myself.


In the room across the hall, the wall had collapsed in, there were a few cabinets, but nothing of intrest, and then the final room on the first floor of the tower was even more worrisome. After crawling and digging through the rubble to enter, I found the body of a dead halfling by the remains of a recent make-shift firepit. The halflings body was cold and grey, with two puncture wounds in his neck, he appeared to have been robbed and murdered by a vampire. I had read enough of the undead in my teachings to know that much. The poor man must have tried to protect himself as there was some stuggle in the ash and dirt of the dusty floor, along with a trap set up around a hole in the outer wall. The halfling himself must have been a rouge, the trap looked dangerous, and still in working order, he had tried to barracade the inner door with rubble and then had built a trap around the hole which was the only other entrance into the room. The poor halfling. Searching around I did find a word written on a piece of paper, which I guessed had belonged to the dead man. I could not place it's origin or language, nor if the thing were magical, but I kept it with me and moved on.


It was more in tact on the second floor, or so it seemed. The first room came up on my right, and appeared to be an office of sorts, a table and two chairs, several desks and a wardrobe. I found some gold and a potion, but still nothing relating to my goal. I needed to find a book on dragonkin, or summoning, but so far the only presence of magic had been the skeliton soldiers, which was most definitely not the sort of magic I was interested in learning. Around the bend of the dark hall, I nearly fainted at the sight of an ogre. But as I approached I learned that there was nothing to fear, as it's stone was craked, and the statue, as lifelike as it was, was nothing more than that. It's grimace and raised club, was forever frozen by an artist's hand. Gathering my wits again, I walked with my back to the statue to a short hall, with a door on either side. To my left was a bedchamer, untouched and rich in appearance. A fine silk bed, large spiraling bedposts, an ornate wardrobe and, at last, a bookshelf.


Alas, I found nothing. Across the hall however, was an intersting sight. I opened the door to a room with no walls. It appeared to have been an alchemy lab, where something had gone terribly wrong. Bottles of unknown liquids were broken and scattered all signs of furniture were charred and the black stains of an explosion littered its evidence cross the stone and rubble both in the room on the gorund in the overgrown grass below. There was nothing of any good left here, and I feared that the books and knowledge I hoped for, lay destroyed in this very room. Despite my searching, there was only rubbish, but I took pride in being thourough.


Back in the room with the ogre statue, there was another hall to the left and a large pair of double doors stright ahead. Further examining the doors, they too were untouched, much like the bedchamber, they were not damaged, and the wood looked as new, reaching for it, it was clearly magical, protected solely by a spell, however I could not guess the sort of spell, and had no knowledge as to how to open it. Down the final hall was only another door the destroyed laboratory, but I did find the word, the same word as the paper found near the halfling, carved into the wall near the untouched doorway. Speaking the word had the door open before me. I guessed that the halfling, with no litarary knowledge of foreign or magical words must have copied it down for further investigation, but never had the chance.


I feared still, the vampire who had made a meal of him may yet be behind this door in spite of the evidence that may have proved oterwise. But inside was a large room lined with bookshelves and an ornate rug on the floor beneath a large dining table. Several expensive-looking chairs lined it's sides, an there, in those chairs, as if in the midst of a gay mealtime, were severl dead men, long turned to skelitons from time and neglect. They were face down in their plates, the backs of all their skulls broken in,as if crushed by a mighty and unexpected blow. These men had been murdered.


Even the man at the head of the table, a wealthy looking man, was dead by the same means. It even appeared as if all the men had been killed at the very same time. Magic must have been behind this, not a vampire. Two large windows let light into the room, and searching for books, I only found a small book of spell components, which I took for later study. Then there was a sound, and spector stood near me. His body was a sheer blue and his eyes were blank and distant, he seemed to look sadly for a moment, then expressionless, then the figure moved, ignorant of my presense, seeming to go about the dinner.He sat where the skeliton sat at the head of the table, he raised a goblet with a smile, and he did laugh and speak to the bodies as if they yet lived and laughed with him. Then a dreadful look came upon his facade, and he fell, as the skeliton was, laying into his dish with a large mallet protruding from his skull. Then the spector remained, for but a moment, before it animated, rising,and returning to the window, assuming the saddened and yet blank expression one might have when ones mind is lost.


“Who are you?” I dared ask the spector. And he did turn to me, as if suddenly becoming aware of himself, but then he walked to the chair, and began to laugh and raise his glass, reinacting the horrid scen of his death once more, before reappearing again at the the window.


“What happened here?” I tired again, in the hopes of learning something from the ghostly man. But he, again replayed his death. So on a whim I spoke the word from the paper again and the spirit stopped and looked at me, finally some semblance of thought behind his empty gaze as he saw me.However, he only pointed to their skelitons, and it was easy to guess that I was right about the murder.By me coming here, I had unlocked a door that had been sealed for centuries. I was meant to find this place, I was meant to see this death, I was to be the one to learn of this tradgedy and somehow bring justice to it. And in knowing that this attack had occurred, his secret having been passed on, the ghost vanished, and I no longer felt his presense. I was alone with only the skelitons for company.


I felt a sadness then, the same sadness in the eyes of the ghost, a feeling much like betrayal, and with the ghost now gone and at rest, I only felt his burden and I knew somehow I would avenge them,I knew their deaths had been unjust and they had not deserved them.Yet, I had to move on, mourning a long dead man and his company would do no good.


Finally on the top floor I did gain some luck. There was only a partial floor, as the winding hall led me to an open area, I could walk out into the open air and gaze for miles at the surrounding landscape, it was as if they built half the floor in rooms and left the other half for a massive balcony or loft to be an overlook. More interesting than that was quite a find! There on the weathered stone was a Wyvren skeliton, long dead and wonderfully preserved with it's bones still white and hard. I thought of looting the thing for it's teeth, but let it be. If I did find a book on how to create a familiar, this body would be very valuable. Back inside was another store room where I found a weath of gold and some good looking Masterwork leather armor in good condition. I thought of wearing the thing, but all mages know that wearing armor instead of cloth puts a strain on one's magic, so I put it in my bag. I did find another library, and it contained the fruit of my hardship. I found a book of dragonkin, and a book of summoning, along with a scroll that would produce an egg. Oh how rich I felt! With elation I went back to the ground floor. It was dark then, and I made camp in the room with the dead spider, not wanting to disturb the finely kept room above for fear that it did belong to the vampire that killed the halfling, even though it was more likely it belong to the ghostly man I had met in the great hall above.Ignoring the chilling carcus of the enenmy arachnid, I studied the pages of my findings by firelight made from rubble and my flint and steel.


I slept longer than I would have liked and ate from my stash of apples, before eagerly returning to the Wyvren skeliton above. Without a cart to bring the skiliton back, and also missing a few components of my own, I could not complete the process of creating my familiar. I would need to return to my home, and come back again before I could try anything else. So bidding farewell to the body of the Wyvren, I made my way back to the river.


I passed the orchard and restocked my supply of apples before I realized it would be faster, if I cut through the trees, rather than follow the river the whole way back home. That was a mistake. I was ambushed by goblins, I took a dagger to the thigh and a club to my ribs, I was beaten and battered and bloodied, broken ribs and all. I did kill them all, but I was barely alive. I took their gold, with shaking hands out of spite alone, and with eyes filled with tears from anger and pain. I could hardly stand, and had to drink a potion of health, but in my ignorance the healing they bestowed on me was minor. I would still return to the village limping and bent over holding my broken ribs. My robes were covered in dirt and muck and now blood, heavy and torn. If the pain and injury hadn't been enough, the cloth where the had broken my ribs on my right side was torn and my right breast was bloodied and would have been exposed if I hadn't further torn my robes to create banadges for myself.


Fortunately, I wasn't attacked again or that would have been the end of me. The people of my town came to me as I collapsed just inside it's borders and I was taken to a healer. I awoke a week later, feeling much better and a few gold poorer. They had mended and cleaned my robes and my body, the matted locks of my hair had been washed and braided. I was good as new and I thanked them kindly. On my feet again I worried I had been down for too long, but I returned to an empty home, with my parents still away-odd, though I thought nothing of it at the time. Back in the village I bought myself a horse and cart and a guard dog with with the gold I had procured at the ruins and sold my old staff. After those purchases I became stingy with my gold, opting for a day's rations and keeping the rest of my apples to return home again before I set out.


The following day I had everything needed for my familiar's creation in tow and, as the sentimental thing I was, I named the horse Cherry, for her red-brown coat, and the dog, Grellen. Grellen was a large mut, tawny in color with a long, drooling, hanging face. But in his eyes were kindness and loyalty, and almost puppy-like friendliness, in spite of his figure. He had wide shoulders, and the rugged and bulky muscular frame, a proper, stong guard dog.

It was a good day, going back to the tower. A good three days, stopping again by the orchard for apples, sharing a ration with Grellen, and continuing uneventfully to the tower arriving earlier on the third day, as coming here by horse was faster than on foot.


I left Grellen to guard my cart and I entered the tower, hoping no bandits had taken up shelter here while I had been away. They hadn't, and I invited Grellen into the tower with me. He watched curiosly by my side as I fashioned together bodyparts and herbs, metals, and bits I found both from home and in the wreckage around the tower. My creature would be strong, large, intelligent, he would have wings, and best of all, would be dragonkin, thanks to the skeliton. And all at once as I spoke the words from the tome, he rose up and the pieces melted and formed and stiched themselves together and there was a great flash of light, until all that remained was peculiar blue egg. I took it up, though it was nearly half my size and carefully took it to my cart with Grellen running ahead to check for danger.

I spent another week at home after that, studying the books and caring for the egg. Then Tonto was born. He was a shining blue and gold creature, much like a Wyvren but thanks to the bones of the undead, he had forelegs. He looked like a dragon, but was too small and certain features easily marked him as their kin, rather than a whole blood. There was a telepathic connection to him, he was of my blood as well, my life. We were connected, his life was mine, and mine was his, one would die without the other. The bond was unbreakable. I had my familiar.

Chapter Two:
The Platinum Wing

I spent a few days thinking of that tower. It had been abandoned for so long, and even with evidence of a long ago murder, and a more recent vampire attack, I thought that I wanted the tower as my own keep none the less. I felt I owed it to the spector to rebuild his home, rechristen it, and give it a new name and homage, besides, as a new mage I would need my own home for my own studies and works. But it was so destroyed I would need to find things to repair it. My next thought was to go to the ruins I had found on the old map in “My Keep”, as I began to call it. Perhaps those ruins so close to mine may have more clues as to what happened there, or at the very least perhaps some supplies I could bring to help rebuild it.

So after resocking a few potions and rations I wandered back the river upon my cart, with Grellen in the back, and Cherry faithfully leading the way as Tonto flew high above and out of sight. I crossed the river easily and nearly made it to the edge of the forest by sundown. I made a small camp, slept in my cart. The next day was more eventful as we ran into a camp of marauders. They were no match for Tonto however, the spider body I had thrown into his creation had granted him the use of a stinger, it's poison was powerful and his claws sharp. We walked away with a few gold pieces, and they would never move again. Another day and I would reach the new ruins by noon.

My first sign was an old outpost that looked to have been a checkpoint. I left my cart and Grellen at it's guard. There were two buildings, on on either side of the neglected road. How interesting that they appeared to have been violently broken into. One man, a skeliton in rusted armor lay slumped on an overturned table, another body hung speared to the wall, the weapon plunging through his chest; because of this, I could not make out the symbol of their regiment or lord. The other man on the table, as I turned him over, had been killed by a blast of magic. The metal armor on his chest curled out and away blackend and twisted by a great impact from the back, and the useless dust of a magcial powder lay on the floor in a pattern that could only have been made from a blast; old blood stained the wall and floor around him.

Up the stone steps to the upper floor was what looked to be someone's camp. But it was long abandoned as well, old furs that were falling apart had once been a bedroll, and there were spoiled meats. Though it looked newer than the bodies of the soldiers, noone had rested here for many a year. There was nothing more to see.

In the bulding on the opposite side of the road were more soldiers, all killed by some violent explosion or weapon to the chest, but I was lucky enough to find one man who's killer had hissed his mark if only by an inch. Though he had still been killed by a spear to the chest, and after rubbing the years of grime from the rusted breastplate, I could see the emblem of a dragonlike face, framed in spead wings, breathing a sort of breath weapon-though what kind I could not tell as the warped metal turned toward and ebedded in the broken bones of the poor corpse.

There was nothing else to see or loot, as the looting of these men had been done long ago, there was nothing left but rust and tattered cloaks. So I continued up the path to the ruins. I felt so much better, even in the midst of such dreary evidence, I was almost giddy with anticipation of what I might find, and I did find a sight that would have sent any other unseasoned mage like myself back home.

There had been a great battle here. Bodies of mean wearing the same aromor littered the courtyard of this place, and I took note that there was no sign of the bodies of the attackers. All the dead I found were wearing the same aromor as the men at the checkpoint on the road, there were no bodies of any man nor beast wearing a different uniform or emblem, yet it was apparent the men had not turned on each other. I was, however able to get a better look at the emblem on the breastplate, it was a proud-looking dragon breathing fire, it's head framed with spread wings and claws reached from beneath the breath weapon as if ready for another attack. The design was both simple and intricate.These men had stood for something proud and strong.

A glance around beyond the bodies revealed a large set of double doors that had been broken in by a large blast. The remains of one door hung crooked on it's rusted hinges and the other door lay shatterd and scrapped on the floor within, to my right were the bodies and a smaller, locked door. The door had been barred from the inside I could tell, but I could not losen or move it. And on the left were stables. So I checked them as well and found only a large, very large feather, which must have belonged to little else then a griffin, and I left it where it was.

Entering through the broken double doors were more dead soldiers. A tattered rug led the way into the shadows where five men in cloaks lay beheaded, their time-bleached bones long turned brittle. Again I felt sadness for them, but moved on. Most of the bodies in here has fallen guarding the entrance that led further into the keep and I stepped over the bodies into the hall. There was an empty barraks on one side, empty trunks and useless dusty bedrolls, and a wrecked dining hall full of rubbish on the other. The hall split. Down the right path I saw another broken door. I could see through it, but I dare not open it. Through the split and damaged wood I saw hordes of the enemy, some humanoid beast race that had reigned their vengence on this tower lay in piles upon piles of their own dead. And at the head of the room, a man in bloodied armor knelt on one knee, holding his sword with it's point to the ground looked alive, as if he were simply praying. I was fearful, one man looking so clean surrounded by the ancient bodies of the dead monsters had me quickly moving myself to the other side of the hall, even if he did look like a hero, frozen in time.

Breathing uneasily I passed two more bodies of the dragon soldiers and more ruined rooms where I found some silver and copper coin. I followed the staircase up the the second floor. I thought I heard something then, but it must have been my imagination after being so frightened by the sight of the man among the monster bodies. There were fewer dead here as I came to a door lined with the flikering runes of magic. The spell was so old and cast so long ago that it was easy to simply kick the door in and find evidence of a dead mage. It appeared he had locked himself in his room with an ememy and attempted to kill his foe with a firey blast that had incinerated them both. The sight had me leaving the room quickly, and then I thought I heard something again. However, I again brushed it off as silly fancies, this place was eerie with so much death. Inside another room I found an enchanted table and many bookshelves, the table was a map, I could tell that saying a magical word would cause the table to show different parts of the map, but I know nothing of the words it would need and found nothing of aid. I took an older map off the wall, and moved on. In the next room I found a wealthy looking bedchamber, a wealthy looking man lay upon his bed with his sword on his chest. He was newly dead, and dead of old age, but I was sure he was indeed dead. I stole nothing from this room as he wore the armor of the many dead soldiers. And I had the feeling I was being watched somehow.


Elwhere on this floor I found something very interesting. I opened the door to see a spark of magic, blue sparkling lights drifted down and vanished around me and I knew there was something magical afoot. I entered the room, and then I definitely heard a sound behind me. Turning back to the hall however, I saw nothing. In the room was a simple bed and a simple table, and a man on his knees. He wore robes that made him a cleric or a priest in my eyes, and curiously the dust that lay around him everwhere else formed a perfect circle around him, and he was no skeliton. He was dead, but preserved, the stone arouns him along with his robes and his skin were untouched by the grime of centuries, no dust. I held my breath as I examined closer. Among his robes he wore a large amulet bearing the dragon symbol on the armor of the men. But then something else caught my eye. There was a magnificent rendering of a platinum dragon rearing ferociously, cast in platinum upon a grand-looking altar. I couldn't help myself from sighing in awe in it's presence. Looking at the altar, it too was untouched by dust and grime, standing there gazing into the metal eyes of the dragon relief, I simply had to look through my pack for an offering. Bronze earrings I had found didn't seemed enough, but there was a gem I had picked up somwehere in my looting and I left it at the feet of the sculpture bowing my head in respect. I looked at the preserved preist in a new light and left to check the next room. It was a pantry, however I noticed some of the wines had been recently removed, the dust here was disturbed with evidence of things being brought in and taken out, there where footprints. Someone, or something, was still using this pantry.

So then I turned ot a spiral staircase, it was barracaded with rubble and it took me some time to get to the top, all the while I was plagued with a growing curiosity of the man among the bodies below and I stuggled to keep from checking the room where he knelt.

At the top of the stairs I found rubble and debris that had been placed in such a way that one would have to run back and forth through a long snaking path to the other side only to be faced with a very rough looking door and more rubble that made for a very sturdy keep. I could not open the door without a few good kicks-so I left it alone, finally deciding to give into my curiosity of the man below, so I went back down the stairs.


But I was met with a ghost, it was the ghost of the preserved preist. He looked at me and pointed into his room. So I followed him.There on the altar was a large amulet much like the one on the body of the priest-which had not moved or changed in any way. The amulet was pure platinum, bearing the dragon symbol and, looking at the body of the priest, I took it. I felt then that he meant for me to own it, and I wore it with a strange new sense of pride.


So I went back downstairs and returned to the door where I could see the man and crawled through an especically large hole in the door. I picked my way through the bodies to see the man was kneeling in a ray of light, and I was reminded of a prince. He was handsome, with his eyes closed and broad shouders. He knelt before a massive carving of a Platinum dragon rearing in great relief much like the amulets and the altar upstairs, and I realized my fear of this man was misplaced.

“Hello?” I tried, but he was deaf to me. Curiosly I reached for him, and as my fingers brushed theasrmor on his shoulder, he began to stir. He was human, and even so I nearly blushed at his handsomeness.

“Who are you and why have you come here?” he asked me directly.

“I am Leyawin Silverdrake and I come in search of items to rebuild my keep.” I said plainly.

“You have come to the wrong place,” he replied, looking at the long dead bodies of his foes.

“What happened here?” I asked, unable to think of what I should ask or say to the man.

“There was a battle against King Regendfire's domain, we of the Platinum Wing were his most trusted men.This was our headquarters, and we were overrun. I brought the bulk of their army in here, and trapped them, rage at the deaths of my brothers fueling my blade as I fell every last one.” His blue eyes gleamed in pain that the memory, and I realized he wore a cloak like the beheaded men in the main hall.

“Why were the men in cloaks beheaded?” I asked stupidly.

“Tradidion,” he answered with a chuckle and continued,“But you are not asking the right questions young Silverdrake and my time grows short.”

I floundered, what should I ask? What should I say? I was at an utter loss.

“What does this symbol mean?” I asked, showing him my medallion.

“My time grows short.” he repeated.

“Who was the priest in the upper room?”

“My time is near.” he said again. I nearly found myself in tears, I knew there was something I should ask, something I must know, something I knew I should have thought of, and yet could not. I spent a few precious moments desperately trying to think of the “right question” .

“I keep hearing sounds, has someone been watching me?” I asked.

He smiled, “There are other's here, you will meet with them when you are finished here.”

He looked at me expectantly, as if there were yet something I need ask but I could not think of it. And as I floundered he said,“My time has come.” He faded into light, and then was gone.

I stood there mourning the handsome spector and pitying myself for not having known what to ask or say to him. Only then did I think to ask who Regendfire was, but I could only guess that he was simply their leader and was no longer around today. And then I thought of the magic map table, perhaps he would have known how to work it, and I cursed at my own ignorance.

After several moments of depression both at the death of the chivalrous and good soldier,and the realization of loss I felt at having lost my chance to ask him whatever it was, I finally stood and turned to go back to through the room. On my way I realized the small locked door outside would have lead in here, and it was no wonder why I could not get through, not only was it barred, it was blocked by the bodies of the slain.-Which I looted.

I left that room very rich. And then went back up to the third floor through the winding path of rubble and to the makeshift door, which I kicked. I heard voices down the hall on the other side and called to them.

“Hello? I am Leyawin Silverdrake. I have spoken to the spector in the room below and he said I would find others here. He told me to meet with them, are you those of which he spoke?”

The door opened and two men looked me up and down before guiding me down the darkened hall. One end was completely blocked by rubble, they had purposefully collapsed it to barrade themselves in, and they had made a fire and camp near it. One man stood eyeing me with a certain guarded caution as the other went to another room, where he returned aiding an elderly man with a long grey beard into a chair near a table, and then I was beckoned to approach. It was clear these three men had been here for some time and were-at a glance, or no relation to the many dead solider littering these grounds.

“You have disturbed the hero that protected this keep so long ago and now he is gone.” Said the elderly man plainly, and I felt a wash of guilt through my being and I let my expression show the sadness I felt at the truth he spoke. “Why have you come here?”

“I came in search of tools,” I began, but before I could correct myself to explain the means to rebuild my keep he spoke again.

“This is no smithy and we are no blacksmiths,” He replied, his tone causing me to go silent. He gazed at me for several minutes, and at the amulet I wore.

“Where did you get that?” He asked.

“I left an offering on the alter downstairs, the ghost of the priest directed me back into the room after I had left it, and I found this upon the altar waiting for me. The ghost was not satisfied until I had taken it.”

The man appeared pleased at the news and he took in a deep wheezing breath.

“We are the remains of the Platinum Wing.” He said, looking at me in a way that told me he was sharing precious knowledge. “Though King Regandfire is no more, we still stand strong with his principles, his thoughts, and his rules. There are very few of us, and when one of us become old and meek, we send our youngest man to ride to the town and recruit a new soldier. Recently, however, we watched as men much like our own came riding griffins took up a camp here. They picked through our rubble, much as you have, but left without exporing deeper or discovering us. If you were given that amulet as you say, then I implore that you, young mage, go seek out those who rode the griffins, recruit members for the Platinum Wing, find out all you can. If there are more of us... Evil is rising up in these lands, and have been since the end of Regendfire's Reign, and with it the Platinum Wing must return to keep order. Will you go? Will you find others?”


How could I refuse. Of course I agreed. The man advised me to hide my amulet in my robes, and I did. He also gave me a scroll and an encrested rod, telling me that should I find another, I would prove my membership of the Platinum Wing by producing these two items, and also to guard them jealously, as those who may look upon them could want them for their own use, or may just as well want my head with them. So, with a new burden on my shoulders, I left them alone and returned to my cart where Grellen roamed on guard nearby.

Chapter Three:
Ankapur

I sat a moment and studied my map. I would journey to the city of Ankapur, which was only a few days travel from here if I followed the river. So I had Tonto hunt in the forest as I rode off. He found us a lovely stag and with my shoddy skills I only able to save about a hundred pounds of edible meat from the carcuss, but it would do. So a day passed, the last of my apples went to Cherry, my lovely red mare and I shared bits of meat between myself, Grellen and Tonto. The next day came and went and I broke through the tree line into the eposed plane. From here, I knew I would be able to reach the river if only I kept in a straight line toward the east. I was uneasy being out in the open like that, it felt too exposed, even in the tall grass.

My worries were justifed as it grew dark, a pack of gnolls came at me out of nowhere, attacking my horse and clamping something on the back wheel of my cart. I called Tonto to me, but he was too high up to arrive right away, I had to defend myself, Cherry kicked in panic and I cast magic missile, hurting two of the eight gnolls. Grellen bit and fought, but the gnolls seemed bent on killing my horse. I cast sleep and two gnolls who were nearly upon me fell in slumber. I beat them to death as the two in front of Cherry were trampled in their sleep by her hooves. When Tonto arrvied we made quick work of those where were still concious with the last of my spells and his claws and Grellen's fangs.

With them dead, I took their gold and a rather nice longbow, along with a dragon fang one had strapped to his back. Then I examined the wheel, they had fasted a hook to it, which was attached to a chain that led off someways to a post. If I had run, it might have torn my wheel away. They had, it seemed, tried to do the same to my other wheel but had failed, so I removed the hook and had to give a potion to Cherry, who was bloodied and drenched in the sweat of panic.


We spent the night in place, I slept in my cart with Grellen and we set out again in the morning. Our rations were enough for me, Grellen and Tonto, but I hadn't thought to purchase oats for Cherry, and with all the apples gone, she would have nothing than grass to eat until we reached the city, unless I was lucky enough to come upon some wheat among the grass-which I was not.


I came across an abadoned house, wherein I found another horrid spider, after stupidly jumping through a hole in the roof of a blocked off room, I beat it to death with my staff and then called down a webbed hole, which would have alerted more spiders to my presence and luckily there were none. Other than the spider, this place had been looted long ago and has been used as a refuge, but all the keepings of a camp were spoiled or too weathered to be of use. In the basement I did discover the webbed sacks of the spider's victims, and from them I took a wealthy amont of gold and silver along with a few scrolls to keep at my disposal. I also had found an odd vine with strange blossoms covering one room, but I could not deduce what it was or what to do with it, but suddenly wished for specimen jars so I could study the plant.

Days would pass after that, and Cherry began to seem sickly from her poor diet. My deer rations were running low, but as our luck would have it, we came upon a small fishing village. The captain of the guard there was a burly man in leather armor, he seemed a good man, and at the first sight of him I immediately thought he might make a good recruit for the Platinum Wing, but after he let me into town, I did not see him again, and I thought perhaps he, as regal as he seemed, may not have been meant for the group as he was doing his job here with as much pride as he did. So I stocked up on meats and potions again, and while I thought of buying a large quantity of salt or rice for trade in the city, as I would need a great sum of money if I was going to hire masons and guards and workers for my keep, but rather than gambol my looted monies, I kept them to myself. I spent the night at an inn and got Cherry fed and cleaned. The three of us set off again the next day, catching a ride on a merchant boat down the river to Ankapur. Along the way I noticed several of the boats moving up and down the river had human slaves on them, along with ogres, kobolds, goblins, all riding unnoticed as if the ship capitans were undaunted and unfrightened by their presence. There was evil here if creatures of the dark side were out in the open. I thought of asking about it, but the captain of this vessel was kind enough to let me aboard for a ride, but didn't seem inclined to speak to me for any other reason.


Coming into the grand harbor the next day we were stopped, the city guard wanting to search our boat. Quickly I made sure the scroll, rod, and medallion of the Platinum Wing were safely hidden in my robes and I realized how out of place I would look upon a poor fishingboat such as this, and pretended to organize my cart as I fabricated a story of being an oddidies dealer coming to sell my wares. When I was asked to step off the boat I learned such a story hadn't been nessesary. The guards were looking for escaped slaves, and they searched the boat for nearly an hour, ignoring Grellen's growls as they checked my cart. Finally we were allowed into the city. The boat captain warned me I had but two days to remain in the city, else he'd leave me here on his way back up the river if I was not back in time. So I thanked him for his trouble and rode toward the city's main gate.

I was briefly questioned of my purpose there before I used my false story and was granted entrance to the city. Thankful to have finally arrived, I was dumbstruck as to what to do next. There were factories in the distance and great plumes of black smoke rose from their chimnies, and the city, however vast, was filled with goblins and bugbears. Hill Giants held guard at the gates and I had a feeling I had better keep my stay here short, if the govenor of this city allowed such creatures freely inside it's walls, who knew how long I would be alive, or at the very least unrobbed within. However I did feel that there may yet be a potential member fo the Platinum Wing here, though no sign of griffin-riding do-gooders. For while the city was a place thick with evil, it did not mean that everyone there was.

I approached a small wares dealer where I sold my copper earrings for ten gold less then I wanted. When I tried to sell the dragon fang, the merchant offered me far too little. So I went on. After early another hour of wandering, I came across a heavily guarded and walled off factory. It was clear from the abandoned houses and shops neaby that whatever went on within those walls was meant to be secret, and stay that way under threat of death. The ominous looking orc guards were enough to send me riding back the other way.


I was here to find workers to repair my keep,and so thats where I went. After stopping at another wares seller to sell the armor and bow and dragon fang at the prices I wanted, I found a stoneworkers place; it full of dwarves and men walking back and forth, yelling at talking and hard at work carrying this or signing that. Through the confusion I met the man I needed, a rough looking dwarf with bright red beard and hard grey eyes. Quickly he asked me so many questions I could bearly answer them, and could not answer them as quickly as he wished. But eventually he was able to write up a sizeable bill for me, and after taking two thousand gold as a downpayment, promised to send thirty men to my keep, ten workers, and twenty guards. I then rememebred I had sent Tonto back to my keep as he had flown for days without landing, so I warned him of that. The dwarf then asked me further questions, if I wanted roads built, and a well put in, and if they needed to prospect my lands for stone and wood to use, or if they need bring it themselves, explaining to me the costs of the choices, and then if I wanted the outside repaired first, or the inside. Were they to repair the defences of my keep or simply make it livable?

After much toiling I answered yes to everything he offered, and opted their repair the outer walls first. At the end I had a bill of five thousand twenty gold to pay off, and after spending the two thousand to get them started, I saved the rest of my gold for I still had to find someone to write the the official papers to make the land mine. Before I was allowed to leave his shop, he placed a bracelet around my wrist. A magical thing, gold with gems. It seemed a pretty bangle, but in truth it was a shackle, to remind me of my debts. Each gem representing a thousand gold that I owed. At the end, when the debt was paid, the trinket would turn to copper and fall off, until then, I could not remove it, no matter my magic skills, and he advised me not to try. He also mentioned I could use it to communicate with him or see his workers should the need arise, and that, if my debts were not payed it would be the reason items from my bag would go missing to fill the debt in lue of gold.

With the weight of the debt upon me, I headed off for the scribe. He was friendly little halfling with a sparkle in his eyes. He offered me tea-which I accepted, and charged me fifty gold to write a deed, a few copies and fifteen proclamations to get the word out that the keep was officially mine. When he asked for my seal and a name. I had him name it Silver Keep, and as for the symbol. What better symbol, I thought, than that of the Platinum Wing! Though it might bring unwanted attention to my home, it may bring those I sought in search of me in turn! So I presented the amulet, the halfling merely took note of the design and went on. Obviously he didn't recognize it. But soon it was all said and done, and I had a ring made with the same symbol in the end, I would need one if I was a lord of my own land, I needed the ring for pressing my symbol into wax seals.

But now, with the weight of my debt to the dwarven workers I was in need of work, and I figured with having accomplished so much and having advanced on to at least second level mage in my quests so far, I may as well call myself an adventurer. So I went for the Adventurer's Guild for work. A billboard stretched high and wide filled with papers describing of jobs needing done, I took the first one I saw, merely the retrival of an item of value. That couldn't be too difficult. So I took it to the head of the Guild, who stamped a paper and put the quest back on the wall. He directed me to an address where the men I would be working for lived and told me to meet with them.

The men were a couple of elder human mages, one man had a salt and pepper beard and no hair, and the other man had salt and pepper hair with no beard. They ran a magic shop, it seemed with minor wares with minor magical affects, true oddities dealers it seemed as I noticed strange objects and furs also for sale. But the men looked me up and down and all but outrightly insulted my abilities. They asked of my adventures, my magical skill, and my answers were lacking, troubling. While they informed me I was to go to Corsair's Enclave just outside of town across the river to retireve an item- a magical sort in a box (they would tell me nothing else about it) , they seemed to have little faith in me, as others of my skill had attempted this as well and had not returned, mages like me, they said.

I would not be put off! Haughty and full or arrogance I took their quest and with the mark of my destination on my map, left them. I spend that night in my cart before I was rushed off the streets by the guard. It seemed in spite of all the evil in the city, they didn't want people sleeping in the streets.

Chapter Four:
Corsairs Enclave

So off I went. It took only a day to reach the enclave and under cloak of darkness I hid my cart as I made for the town. I was on my own, with Tonto back at Silver Keep it was comepletely up to me to get this done. I left Grellen, as I was worried about my things being stolen, and confident enough to think I would be fine on my own. I was so wrong.


I snuck into the city like a rouge, bugbears and hobgoblins roamed the streets and patrolled one building in particular, one that must have held the object I sought. So I waited, watching the patrol, and was able to make my way to the roof of the bulding with the use of my animated rope spell. Quietly, I infiltrated the building, but didn't explore much. I came through the window onto a small landing in the middle of a stairwell. At the top of the stairs where a pair of bugbear guards on either side of a door. At the bottom was a small and crude working fo jail cells and a storage room.

I cast a sleep spell on the bug bears, tied and gagged them, and drug them into the store room.-I'm very strong for a mage. And in the jail cell area, I realized a bugbear guard sat sleeping naturally from his chair. I meant to merely knock him out to keep him from waking, but unfortunatly my little “tap” to his head sent his brains spilling out, and he was dead. I barely muttered an “oops” before a voice behind me caught my attention.

“Hey, hey, come, let me out of here. Please!” I turned to see a man behind bars, “Do you know what they do to thievs around here? Come, please, I beg you, let me out of here.”

I almost left him, but how could I? I was far too kind, I snagged the keys from the dead guard and released him.

“I don't want to see you around here again, quickly, leave.” I commanded, trying to sound stern, and remember I had a hood and cloth mask concealingmy face.

“Thank you” he said, rushing out and to a chest I hadn't noticed near the window where he quickly gathered several items. “I owe you one.” He said, and then he disappeared out of the window and was gone. I checked the chest myself, but everything was gone.

I hoped he had not taken the item I was in search of.

At the top of the stairs I could hear two voices beyond the door. Mustering my courage I burst into the room and shot the bugbear with a crossbow bolt, startled and dazed, he stumbled back and I cast magic missle at the man who has been sitting, and who was now screaming at me in the bugbear language. He returned the shot, a mage, it hit. The bugbear attempted to stab me, but missed, his sword sticking in the wall. I shot again with my crossbow and missed the mage, who hit me again with a blast of magic. I was losing.

However I was lucky to finally beat the mage and bugbear to death and it was over in a matter of minutes. I found a box that must have contained the item I came for, tucked it under my cloak, stole the gold and scrolls from the mage and bugbear, but I had to make haste. There were shouts coming from downstairs, I had to leave. Now.


So badly bloodied from my fight I dove out of the window, nearly killing myself as I landed wrong on the fall, right in front of the Hobgoblin patrol! So I ran, with every ounce of strength I ran down the city streets with a mob behind me. I had to have the item, otherwise they may not have been so keen, or desperate to catch me. I tried to lose them in the street, turning wildly this way and that, but it was no use. So I made for the outskirts. My cart, If I could reach Cherry, then maybe we could get away. After nearly getting killed by a single bugbear, an entire horde of them with hobgoblins as well would surely be the end of me; drinking all of my potions before I had lept from the window had been the only thing to save me from dying right there. Now I ran for my life. And the cart could never have seemed further away.

I began to slow down, my knees giving out with my vision, but I ran on, luckily I got my second wind and picked up speed, making it ot my cart and sanpping the reigns as hard as I could. Grellen was mad with panic as I was and Cherry tore off onto the road at a dead gallop. My cart began to bounce and fracture under the stress of the speed. I groaned at the sound, but my mask was thick and heavy with blood, and my jaw in pain, the sound was muffled. We covered so much ground, as we reached the road back to the city, I allowed Cherry to slow, and as I did, I saw the light behind me, torches, they were still after me. So the pace was again as racing as my heart as we took off into a run once more, the cart's wheels broke and fell apart, even so Cherry tore ahead dragging the broken thing, which somehow still held my things and Grellen, we were going so fast, I thought we might make it, but then were was a loud crack as the cart bounced and brokeapart completely, the momentum pulling all of us over. The last thing I remember is seeing sky, then the cart and Cherry above me in mid air and then darkness.

Chapter Five:
waking
When I came to, I was filled with pain. I was broken, bones and spirit alike, I was covered in my own blood. And if that weren't enough, the remains of Cherry littered the ground around me, her wretched body had seemed to have burst upon impact, the cliff was high above me, and I began to weep. Through my tears I could not see Grellen, he was missing from the scene, but instead there was Tonto, as bloody and broken as I was, and around him were the slain bodies of my hobgoblin attackers, and wept harder. He had come to rescue me, and had succeded in killing them, and now through our bond also shared my wounds and my pain. I crawled to him and hugged his nose, he did not respond. I do not know how long I wept, but eventually I did find the strength to bandage us, as my pack and not fallen far from my own body.And I found a barrel of meat from my cart and was able to eat, though most of it was lost. I had no choice but to remain here until I could move again. I pulled myself under the remains of my cart, too ingured to even build a fire, and let sleep take me as a gazed at the form of my bloodied familiar.

Eventually I manged to conjure Tancers flaoting disk when i could stand, two chests i had bought int he city were in tact. I put Tonto and them on the disk, and using my staff as a cane, I limped back to Ankapur.

After healing, I would spend a month there learning history.



More to come!