Fables Vol.1

I considered the ritual before me for several long moments. This marked my fourth attempt and likewise my fourth fatal outcome. It seemed that the hood of longevity somehow poisoned the brew causing each test subject to grow gavely ill. Not one raven had lived long enough for me to note any variations in behavior or appearance. I knew that I was on the right track, however, solving the unavoidable taint left behind by the hood was proving a daunting task. I wondered if I should not seek council among the practitioners of magic to gather advice regarding the ritual.

As I rested there beneath the thick canopy in the Unicorn Grove, the thought occured that ritualistic magic like this caused the segregation of the drow elves. I realized that the elves of ancient times would consider a ritual like this a foolish undertaking by a dangerous individual. I, however, had not the time or opportunity to devise a second plan.

Birds cheeped and squirrels chased one another around the grove. The tranquility of the grove was near palpable, and although my mind was racing, a feeling of peace layered the park like a thick fog. Suddenly, I realized there were others within the newly rebuilt city of elves. Like a living wraith I melded with the beautiful greenery that surrounded me, deciding that I should keep an eye on these foreigners to be sure of their intent. I laid low, there in the grove, and fortune smiled upon my patience. I had first only noticed two people, after a bit the wizard with them became visible to me as well.

The three made their way through the new elven capitol with indirect apathy at the havok left crumbled in their wake. Slowly and diligently they combed the entire city, and I caught myself wondering what they sought. When they completed their route and had felled near every thing in their path, anarchy struck a mighty blow on karma's behalf. Out of the quiet afternoon came the cries of the dying. Having concluded that one or both of his companions were hording the treasure they sought, the mighty enchanter called forth a fiery storm and set it loose upon his fellows.

The warrior he traveled with, a slow and clumsy ogre, barely released his death cry before his body was consumed by unholy wizards fire. The minstrel however, was less slow to move, perhaps even quicker than the mage considered. The wizard gave chase as the minstrel did flee, quite lost were they both among the new streets. I heard the mage taunt the hiding minstrel once, and then I was alone in the city. I decided to have a look around and verify the damage of their viscious attacks. I barely stepped free of the grove when I nearly stumbled over two bloody corpses.

It seems the minstrel was actually a thief, and while his blackened corpse was still smoking the venom on his blade had finished the gnome. Examining the corpses, I noted they had not returned for their belongings so I recaptured my hiding place and waited for them to return. Several hours passed, and the sun fell low beyond the western mountains, still none of the three returned. Quickly I circuited the city to be sure that the princess and her council members were alright, then I returned to the grove, belittling myself for taking an interest in these three when I had important matters of my own...

(more to follow in Tales Vol.2)