Word hated this one. When you're trying to write an accent, expect many annoying red underlines.


Chapter Five

Unlikely Hero


As the scarlet colored sun rose over the horizon like a shining jewl, the small village became visible in the distance. The whole place appeared to be little more than a tavern, inn, store, and several houses. Despite it's size, the village was a comfortable little place.
"Why do you want to come to the village, anyway?" Alkin questioned Forrever.
"There's a few things I need to pick up there that you can't find in the swamp," she replied. It was true, in fact, earlier that week she had written down a list of things she wanted to buy. She rummaged through her pocket, retrieving a small piece of paper with the word "matches" scribbled across it. She didn't need them, but rubbing sticks together to make fire could drive one insane.
The small town in front of them grew larger as they approached. It was all focused around a tavern in the center. The sound of music and talking echoed from the tavern's open windows, making the town seem busier than it really was. The two liches waited next to another building. If Forrever recalled correctly, undead were not allowed in the tavern.
Alkin and Gillion dismounted their horses and entered the building. It was larger inside than it appeared from the outside. Apart from the long table the bartender was seated behind, several round tables were scattered around the room, with a particularly large amount of people at one. Forrever, Gillion, and Alkin approached, straining their necks to see over the crowd.
An old female ferret in a long brown jacket was arranging several bottles on a table. She pulled a rock from one of her coat's many pockets and handed it to a muscular man.
"Crush this rock with your hands," she instructed in a heavy Scottish accent. The man squeezed the rock until his knuckles turned white, but it did not break. Seeing he there was no way he could break it, the old woman took the rock back from the man. She drank from one of the bottles on the table, then crushing the stone with one hand! The onlookers gasped in amazement as dust sized stone fragments fell from her hand. The strong man slapped several gold pieces down on the table and the woman handed him one of the potions. In a matter of seconds, the table was practically covered in gold, but the strength potions she pulled from her pockets never seemed to run out.
As Alkin tried to convince Gillion not to waste his money on one of the potions, the old woman removed a tiny blue flower from one of her pockets. Turning to a nearby mage who was holding a small purple flame in his hand, the old woman held the flower out and said "Burn it."
The mage laughed slightly at his easy task. Conjuring his small flame into a medium sized fireball, he sent a great blast of fire directly at the flower. Nothing could survive an attack like that, yet only a single sapphire colored petal fell from the flower. "This plant, my friends," the woman began, "is immune to any kind of magic. However, you wouldn't want to eat one of these," she chuckled, "not when you see what price I'm selling them at."
Again, money was handed to the woman faster than she could count it. Only this time, she actually ran out of flowers.
With all of her customers either satisfied or broke, the crowd began to dissolve. Even Alkin, Forrever, and Gillion began to leave. Forrever, however, moved slowly, watching the woman. As the old potion saleswoman heaved an enormous bag of gold onto the table to count, a cloaked figure sat at her table, his green eyes glowing in an evil manner.
He turned to the woman. "Do you have my potions?" he questioned urgently. She rolled her eyes and looked in his general direction.
"No, I don't, and twould be helpin' if ye necromancers weren't aburnin every tree in ye path," she said calmly. Her accent was much more obvious when she talked in longer sentences.
Cursing loudly and forgetting the potions, the cloaked figure changed the subject. "You're all in grave danger here, and need to leave."
The woman laughed again. "With the number o' strength potions I sold today, we need not be worrien' about anything."
The cloaked figure pulled his hood off. His sleek fox-like face and the scar across his eye proved Forrever's suspicions, but she remained quiet. "You don't understand," he angrily explained, "these aren't normal enemies. They can assume any form - any ability! They can read minds - yours and each others!" He slowed down, breathing heavily.
The woman remained calm. "What do you care if the whole village dies, don't ye just be wantin' more corpses to raise into undead?"
Skkar ran his hand through his long hair in frustration. "You don't understand! You still underestimate their power - there will be no corpses remaining!"
She raised her eyebrows in a "so what" manner. "Well then, I suggest ye best be leavin', now."
Waving his fist in anger, Skkar stood. "I won't let you - and these people - die!" And with that he stormed from the building, signaling for his liches to follow him away once outside.
Forrever seated herself at the old woman's table. "What was all that about?"
"Don't recognize ye," stated the woman, "don't ye' introduce yerselves 'nymore? I'm Aerisa."
"Forrever," Forrever responded with a single word, "what potions did that man ask to buy?" Forrever couldn't imagine their already powerful enemy being immune to magic, or even twice as strong.
Aerisa chuckled softly again, knowing Forrever expected Skkar to be buying some amazingly powerful concoction. "Potions of joy," she said finally, "a depressed lad, that un' is. Lost everyun' he ever cared about. Livin' with the undead doesn't help much, either."
Lost everyone he ever cared about. To her own surprise, Forrever began to feel bad for the evil man. Evidently, Aerisa could see this. "Don't be feelin' sorry for the lad, whatever good used to be in him, gone it is now. Some folks say he even raised his own wife as un' of 'is undead soldiers."
Forrever wasn't sure what to do. Perhaps what Aerisa said was true. Forrever called back to Gillion and Alkin, "Guys - I think I just saw Skkar leave!" In a flash, the three of them were running away out the door.
Once outside, Gillion turned around and leapt in horror. "The village, it's gone!"
Alkin turned. Indeed, the village was nowhere to be seen. He reached his hand out in that direction, and it too vanished. It reappeared as he pulled it back. He stuck his head forward, which vanished also, reappearing has he backed off. "It's like a bubble of invisibility," he spoke with amazement, "a mage must have placed it on the town! But... I've only seen Liches summon such things..."
Liches, Forrever thought as she moved halfway in and halfway out of the bubble. Then she understood. Skkar really was trying to protect this village from something. "I don't think Skkar is the worst of our worries," the visible half of her said slowly. Though Skkar surely was still evil, maybe - at least this once - he had good intentions.
Was he trying to protect them, or was this some kind of trap?



Wheeee, Skkar sounds like a fun character. Sadly, it'll be many chapters before we get to see how he acts once his depression medication wears off. And Aerisa... it took me forever to make up a name that doesn't turn up a ton of adult russian sites when entered on Google. Yes, I always check that first when making up names. We don't want anyone saying "Hey, I recognise that name."





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