I didn't rush the journey to the smithy. When pushed for time, I've made the trip in one day, but there seemed no reason to hurry. I made a camp just inside the forest margin and slept there last night. I could have crossed the plains then and made it to Denion first thing in the morning, but instead I decided to take a break. After all, a quest that has been part of my life for years wouldn't be hampered by one night's rest. Wrongly, as it turned out, there seemed no reason to hasten to the smithy. I've plenty of time on my hands ... nothing but, it seems.
As I lay by my campfire looking up at the few stars visible between the spreading branches of the forest trees, I thought that maybe that wasn't completely true. I've time yes, but I have my skills, and I have my strength - well, if it is strength. I recalled something said to me a few days ago - 'You're one of the strongest people in these lands'. I laughed, and told the speaker that they mistook stubbornness for strength. But, whichever, it keeps me going - it's helped me survive back in the lands for quite some time now, in the eternal battle against evil.

My thoughts drifted back to the lands, beset by darkness and that evil. I've faced them every day. I've fought many creatures - as so many others have I've faced the Evil One himself. It's not the evil, the darkness, that wounds my heart and my soul. The day those raiders took my home and family from me, events in the lands, it seems that people can hurt you far more than any foul creature of the darkness.
Again my thoughts went to the journey on which I found myself. This time, the job will be finished. There will be a reckoning.
And once again, I thought of the lands, of those I'm parted from as I take on this quest. I wondered how they were, what they were doing. I sent a quiet 'Goodnight' to the friends, the loved.


A voice on the wind -
words cast to the elements to seek The One
Do they survive across leagues, endure through marcs
or fade and die, unheard?

Thoughts in the mind -
of life, of honour, of love, of The One
Do they spark and circle, trapped in flesh
or fly free and send their call?

Love across the land -
hears and sees and senses The One
Hopes and fears, despair and joy
When will the day come again?


I woke at dawn, and crossed the plains to Denion's smithy. Strangely enough no fire burned in the forge, nor was there any sign of life. I stopped, waiting to see if I would hear any sound, painfully aware that anyone inside would have seen my approach. I drew my blades ...
The door swung open at my touch, and I quickly slipped inside. The place was devoid of life ... of human life anyway. A messenger-bird on a perch called to me, as though it had been awaiting my arrival. The bird's feathers were matted in blood, though a quick examination showed that the blood did not belong to the bird. It seemed the last person to handle the animal must have been bleeding freely ...
I looked at the parchment the bird had carried. A small fragment, by the look of it hurriedly torn from a larger piece. In between a few smudges and spots of blood, I saw written in Denion's distinctive hand just one word ...

Hellhole

Ellyana has, in the past, written briefly of that place. And I recall the last time I passed through there. It's a dark, twisted place, full of equally dark and twisted creatures. But, it seems, that is where the path will take me next.