The young bull elk was nibbling on a patch of dry grass that was just poking through the snow covered ground, when all of a sudden an arrow struck him deeply in the chest. Before he could even react to the arrow penetrating his chest, a worg lept from the brush, hitting him squarely in his rear haunches, taking his legs out from underneath him. As the young bull elk realized what was occurring the worg was already moving on top of him and had it’s mouth around the elk’s neck as the worg’s teeth ripped out it’s windpipe delivering the killing blow.
Chase watched as Andur pulled the elk down, he knew that his arrow was true and the elk might have had a chance to run a few halting gates before it dropped, but Andur didn’t like to let his prey have much of chance to escape. He preferred to kill them a with a brutal efficiency that Chase admired.
As Andur finished with the elk, Dar'floh trotted up next to Chase, “Is this for us too eat?”
Chase glanced down at Dar’floh, “Yes, go on and eat what you will. Then both of you bring back a haunch to the house for the rest of us.”
Dar’floh nodded and looking back at their other traveling companion sitting on her gray mare, “Will she be staying with us? In our den?”
Chase sighed. He could already tell that some of his pack were not quite happy with the changes that were occurring, “Yes, she will be living with us.”
Chase was exhausted and needed rest. In fact, he was surprised that he was still able to keep riding. It had been three days since he left town, right after the meeting with the Lords of Stagfell and his conversation with Zuhair about the some of the charlatans in Stagfell trying to sell what they claimed was a cure for Lycanthropy. He assumed Zuhair would have his yellow hands round them up or run them out of town. Chase, already sensing the discontent among the people, didn’t want this adding to it. He talked to Fizzle and advised him to start selling his own herbal remedy at a discount to under cut most of the shady vendors looking to take advantage of the scared settlers. It didn’t matter if it actually worked since they had already cured the barbarian and he was in custody the curse could spread no further. Fizzle could even have it marked with an official seal of authenticity, this would help eliminate most of the ones selling harmful concoctions and would let Fizzle pass on cures with little or no affect on to the public to belay their fears. The last thing we needed was the rumors to be spread that the lords where hording the cures all to themselves or that they were not keeping the people safe.
Chase had ridden off to find of the herbs that Fizzle had said he needed to help create a cure for Kressle. He knew that the other lords would assume his rapid departure was because he had some feelings for Kressle and was worried about her, but that was not the case. Chase simply wanted to avoid having to replace Kressle as marshal and not to mention having to tell Katrina that he had to kill her mother. It was as he was riding out of town that he realized that the ingredients Fizzle required, fresh wolfsbane and belladonna, would be almost impossible to find at this time of year except at one of the private greenhouses in New Stetven. However, he knew that if he took his time he could find some on his own, but time was not something that he had a lot of right now. Chase knew there was really only one person that could possibly help and he also remembered the comments she made last time he visited her. “The bandit whore is not the one for you, she will become a she-wolf and devour you whole if you let her.”
Chase knew that there would be a price to pay for this help and he would pay it. The price was worth the life of his daughter’s mother and the good of the kingdom. Before Kressle was turned into a werewolf, he knew what he owed the witch and he had not minded cost of his debt. Now, due to unforeseen circumstances, the arrangement would be different, and the price much steeper. Chase was not sure how he would get what the Oracle wanted in payment for all that she was now doing for him and for the fledgling kingdom, but Chase had given his word and he would pay the price even beyond what she had originally asked of him almost 10 years ago.
As the two horses trotted up over the last hill south of Stagfell, Chase could see the new merchant ships that had just arrived as he left three days ago. They had dropped anchor close to the shores below the castle. He remembered it was only two years ago, this land was considered inhospitable, filled with bandits and monsters. Now a town was forming and from it, a kingdom that would soon surpass even Restov. Chase was already responding almost daily to requests for more information from the other lords about the other southern kingdoms of Pitax and Varnhold. It was right before the werewolf attack that he discovered the Taldorian spy working in the stables. Chase’s first reaction was to eliminate him, but then decided it was more beneficial to make sure he was intercepting all his outgoing messages, reviewing them making some minor alterations and then sending the misleading information on its course. He also knew that he would have to spend more time monitoring the comings and goings of all the notables in Stagfell. He needed to stress to the others that it would be wise if they did not mention to anyone that he was anything more then a hunting guide to the lords and nobles of Stagfell. As much as he should have felt some appreciation for Fizzle relating the stories of his heroics to his fiancee’ Calia, it did nothing to help in his ability to blend into the background as nothing more then a humble servant.
Chase rode up to the rear of the castle and handed their reins to the halfling stable hand, “Please make sure they both get a good rub down and some extra grain, they have had a rough few days.” The halfling nodded and walked away with the horses in tow. Slipping into the castle through the servants entrance was always so much easier than having to deal with all the pomp and circumstance that the others had to deal with when they came into the front entrance.
“Why do you enter through here among the servants and the midden?” she asked.
Chase looked absent of all emotion and said evenly, “As far as everyone here is concerned that is what I am a humble servant to the Lords of Stagfell.”
She answered with a soft lilting laugh, “How ironic that the most noble among them has to enter through the servants quarters.”
Chase turned to look at her, “Then remember who I am and your place, speak not of that past for it is not known here to any, but you and I. And that is how I wish it to remain.”
She smiled at him and nodded her agreement.
As it was, Chase would normally always vary how and when he entered the castle, but today he took the truest route to the Great Hall which was serving as the throne room until the proper one was finished. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. As he slipped into the back of the room unseen, he found Raam, Balain, Fizzle, Kresten, and Zuhair conversing and pouring over maps, probably working out the details on how to deal with the trolls to south or where to next expand the ever growing kingdom. Chase had already told them it would be better to harry the trolls during their march to Stagfell, then attack them somewhere where we could set the battlefield to our advantage. That was neither here nor there at the present, he was here to let them know he has returned and to introduce his guest.
Taking several loud steps forward, Chase cleared his throat, “My lords, I’m sorry for the delay in my return it could not be helped. Before you ask any questions, I would like to introduce you to someone.” And with that, Tyana stepped forward into the warm candlelight.
“My Wife.”
