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The chill winds of late autumn rushed past Aiden's ears as he ran, but he hardly noticed it over the pounding of his heart and the burning muscles in his legs as he gasped for each breath. His dark, shoulder length hair streamed behind him as he sprinted through long, knee-high grass, his blue eyes focused on the distant tree line that he was rapidly approaching. He felt his strength flagging, but spurred himself onward for one last burst of speed before he crashed through the undergrowth and staggered to a halt. Turning to look behind him, Aiden grinned breathlessly at his pursuer, who had apparently been unable to keep up with him.

"You owe me a copper, Pace!" the young man called out between breaths. "I told you turning thirteen makes all the difference!"

His friend, Pacian, merely waved dismissively at him, probably not wanting to waste his breath by yelling across the twenty yards that remained between them. It had been Pace's idea to skip their chores in favour of something more entertaining, for Aiden had turned thirteen this very day and although not overly fond of work, he didn't feel that running out on his family was an entirely honourable endeavour.

His friend had been very persuasive, however, and before long they found themselves leaving their home of Coldstream in the distance behind them. A few months younger than Aiden, the two boys had been friends since he was seven, a source of some concern to his parents, as Pacian had a knack of getting into trouble and generally liked Aiden to be there when it happened.

"I let you win, since it's your birthday," Pacian shrugged, taking the time to tidy up his short blond hair and absently brush non-existent dirt from his tunic. "If it was any other day I wouldn't have beaten the pants off of you." Aiden grinned, knowing that Pacian's pride wouldn't permit him to admit defeat. But he decided to play along with his little fiction to spare his feelings.

"Yeah you were beating me over the first fifty yards or so, but then you dropped back,” Aiden offered. “I thought you might have gotten a stitch or something,"

"All part of the plan!" Pace declared, grinning broadly. "Happy birthday!"

"This is what you're getting me? Letting me win a race?"

"A finer gift than what anyone else is going to get you - the feeling of victory."

Aiden laughed, dropping the subject. Pace was always good at making up plausible lies when pressed, something Aiden never could manage. The few times he had tried to cover up something when explaining to his parents had ended in disaster, with more work as punishment.

"Anyway, I suppose we should get back now,” Aiden said. “If we stay away much longer I'm going to be missed, and I don't want to get into trouble today."

"Okay," replied Pace, "But I wanted to show you something first. Come on, follow me." Pacian started walking into the forest, evaporating Aiden's light mood in an instant.

"But that's the Cairnwood," he protested, gazing at the dark shadows in the thick forest with trepidation. "We're not supposed to go in there." Pace looked around innocently at the trees and shrugged.

"I don't see anything dangerous about trees, do you?"

"Somehow I think there's something in there besides trees that might be dangerous, Pace."

"Such as?"

Aiden was at a loss. All his parents had ever told him was that Cairnwood was a dangerous place, and sometimes people who went in there never came out again. But he was never told anything specific, like if they were eaten by bears or ghosts.

"Look, we're only going in a little way," Pacian continued, "And all the times I’ve been in there I've never seen anything that you could call dangerous."

"How how often do you go into the forest?" Aiden asked, drawing a shrug from his friend.

"Perhaps a dozen times... I don't really keep count. Hey, you're not scared are you?"

Despite knowing better, Aiden was thirteen now, practically a man, and would not stand for being called a coward. "Of course not, if you say there's nothing to be afraid of, then let's go."

Pacian beamed, then turned and walked into the forest, with Aiden close behind him. For nearly twenty minutes they walked inbetween the thick trunks, their footsteps muffled by the fallen leaves of late autumn that lay in a thick blanket on the soft grass. For a place that was forbidden to them, Cairnwood seemed like a pleasant place indeed, though Aiden couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t supposed to be here.

The wind blew gently through the boughs, and the sounds of birds could be heard in the distance, all contributing to a sense of peace. Aiden was about to ask how much further they had to go when he suddenly felt the sensation of floating in the air, quickly followed by an explosion of pain on his chin that stunned him.

The next few seconds were a blur as he tumbled and crashed downwards, before finally coming to a stop on a hard, rocky surface. Bewildered and smarting from half a dozen scrapes and bruises, Aiden struggled to clear his head, trying to figure out what had just happened. The daylight had disappeared, except for a small shaft that came from above to pierce the darkness around him; clearly he had fallen down a hole of some sort.

"Aiden! Aiden are you okay?" Pacian called from above. Slowly, Aiden lifted himself onto his shaky legs, pleased to find that he hadn't broken any bones in his fall.

"Uh, yeah I think so," he called back to his friend, whose face he could see hovering over the hole above. Aiden judged it to be around twenty feet straight up, and he felt lucky to still be alive at all. Tentatively, he touched the walls with his hands but was met with nothing but loose dirt and rocks for hand holds on the wall. "I don't think I can climb back out Pace. Go and get help!"

"Are you sure?” Pacian answered hesitantly. “You want to give it a try?"

"Yes! Go get help!"

"How about I go and get some rope?" his blond friend hedged. Aiden found this apparent reluctance baffling, until it dawned on him that they had ditched their chores and entered Cairnwood without permission, and Pacian was responsible. Knowing his shifty friend, he wasn't about to own up to any wrongdoing unless Aiden was in real danger. Apparently falling into a deep hole and injuring himself didn't qualify.

"Okay go and get some rope then, but hurry!"

Pacian sprung into action. "I'll be back before you know it. Wait here!"

Aiden groaned inwardly at the poor attempt at humour, but at least help was on the way now. The young man resigned himself to spending a considerable amount of time down in the hole. Aside from the light streaming in from above, there was only blackness before him. Now that he was thinking a little more clearly, he could feel his back was leaning up against one side of the hole, but suspected that the opposite side was empty.

Stretching out his arm, he encountered nothing solid, so apparently what he had thought was a hole had in fact turned out to be some sort of cave. He slowly crouched down, too scared to leave the shaft of light and trying not to think of the horrible things that could be lurking out there in the darkness.

His aches and pains were gradually subsiding, and for nearly half an hour he sat there, shaking from the cold and the fear. The sun was well past its peak now, the angle of the light streaming down to him was changing and it was becoming darker. Aiden fought rising panic as each second of waiting seemed to last forever.

In the deepening gloom before him, he thought he saw something blue shining in the dark. Curiosity getting the better of him, he crept forward to try and see the faint light more clearly. It wasn't moving, and didn't seem to look like anything threatening, but his experience at dealing with underground critters was practically zero.

Figuring the light to be from some sort of glowing fungus that his Mother had once shown him, he crawled towards it, judging the curious light to be only a few yards away. Loose dirt and small rocks on the ground poked at him as he blindly felt his way forward, but after brushing some of it aside he felt a smooth, solid surface underneath. His curiosity overcoming his fears for the moment, the boy could only assume this was an old mine shaft, but he had never heard of mines anywhere near Coldstream.

Avoiding the worst of the sharp rocks, Aiden reached the source of the dim blue light. It was coming from the floor before him, and was no bigger than his fist. It seemed to be emanating from something metallic, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. Slowly, he moved his right hand close to the light, and felt around to try and figure out what the object was. It was round, cold and hard, which did very little to enlighten him. Picking it up on one hand, he swept away some dust from the object to get a better look at it. But the instant all ten of his fingers closed upon it, his world changed.

The darkness of the cave was replaced with the near-blinding light of midday, dazing Aiden as he squinted against the sudden brightness. Gaping in astonishment, the young man found himself crouched upon a snowy plateau with majestic peaks looming around him. But the beauty of the scene was lost to him, for across the snow-covered field before him was a scene from his worst nightmares.

He stood amidst a great battle, surrounded by armoured men wearing the gold dragon tabard of the Kingdom clashing against hooded and robed warriors, with signs of steel armour hidden underneath their garb - though they looked like some sort of priestly army, they were heavily armed and armoured. The fallen from both sides of the battle littered the landscape, and the ringing of steel and the cries of the combatants threatened to overwhelm Aiden's shocked senses.

His mind struggled to comprehend what had happened to him when one of the Kingdom soldiers suddenly ran through him, appearing out of his chest as though he were a ghost. Gasping with surprise, Aiden looked down at his body, wondering if he had perhaps died and become a ghost when he noticed that the ground immedietly underneath him was quite clearly that of the cave he had been in moments before. His mind raced, trying to comprehend whatever this strange magic was, but the events unfolding around him appeared too real to ignore.

The black-robed assailants, as if hearing some sort of order, disengaged from the fight and pulled back down the road to Aiden's left. They quickly disappeared below the horizon, prompting some of the defenders to give a weak cheer, but most of them appeared to be steeling themselves for something else - something... worse. For the first time, Aiden noticed a large fort to his right, with stone walls fifteen feet high that stretched across the field behind the defenders.

These ruggedly-hewn walls were lined with archers, and some kind of siege machines that were loaded with massive bolts of wood and steel. Behind them, the fort itself rose up in defiance of the attackers, with the flag of the Kingdom of Aielund flying high.

One man in particular stood out amongst the defenders, dressed in shining, gold-trimmed armour, and appeared to be in command of the Kingdom forces. He pointed across the field in warning, and as if on queue, the ground started to shake from what seemed to be a minor earthquake. Aiden felt all this as if he were standing right there amongst it all, but the soldiers around him paid him no heed.

The shaking of the ground grew more intense until the head of some armoured creature appeared, revealing more of its body as it closed the distance. It was easily over twelve feet in height, with shoulders eight feet across and completely encased in ornate armour. It gleamed with the appearance of burnished steel, and the face etched onto the front of the helmet was forged into an expression of haughty superiority – as if those it was about to crush were beneath its notice.

It was joined by another, and another of the massive creatures, and a cry of despair arose from the defending soldiers. A shouted order came from the walls, and the siege engines unleased their massive bolts of steel, which struck the first of the huge armoured being square in the chest. A dent appeared in the fine armour, but it did not stop its relentless march to the walls.

The defenders held their swords and pikes nervously, and it appeared that their morale was about to break when a rallying cry came from one of their number - a huge man nearly seven feet tall, dressed in black armour topped with a great horned helm leaped to the front, bellowing out a challenge to the monsters that approached. He brandished his massive greataxe that seemed to glow of its own accord, and his challenge was met by the first of the lumbering behemoths.

Unafraid of the approaching monster that loomed over him, the warrior swung his weapon and sheared off one of its legs as if the axe had cut through paper. The deafening sound of tortured metal echoing over the field and the great armoured foe, unsupported, crashed to the ground, where the mighty axe wielding warrior swept its head off in one stroke. Aiden recoiled, expecting to see blood gushing forth from the terrible injury, but was shocked to see nothing come out. These monsters were not alive, and that fact only terrified the young man even further.

With the fall of the first of these behemoths, the rest of the defenders rallied behind the warrior, calling out their battle cries as the charged into the fray. The black-armoured warrior was the only one that was truly effective against these fearsome opponents, however, and the other men could only delay the massive armoured creatures at the cost of their lives. Yet they did so, without question or complaint.

After long minutes of untold bloodshed, only the black warrior remained to defend the castle, and he faced off against the last of the armoured creatures alone. This one was different to the others though – shorter by several feet and wielding a huge sword in one of its hands, the edge of the blade rippling with light. They came together in a devastating dance of savagery, sparks flying from their weapons and armour as each combatant sought an advantage over the other.

Aiden, clutching the glowing orb, could not look away from the fight as the two titanic figures clashed. The metal creature seemed to be fighting differently to the others that had fallen, somehow more graceful and intelligent, and the black warrior was hard-pressed to keep the monster at bay.

A shadow grew over the battlefield as something immense obscured the sun. Aiden squinted against the light to see what was happening, and was staggered by the appearance of a creature straight from legend. An immense gold dragon was descending onto the battlefield, its wingspan easily over a hundred feet across. Talons the size of a man dug into the ground as it crashed to the surface behind the black warrior and its tail swept over the battlements of the fort. Its fine scales gleamed in the cold light, the majestic creature both immensely beautiful and terrifying beyond measure.

Distracted by the sudden appearance of the dragon, the black warrior was struck by the sword of his metal foe, severing his neck and dropping his head to the ground, followed by the rest of his now lifeless body. Aiden watched aghast as the battle seemed on the verge of escalating into something beyond his imagination.

But then, unexpectedly, the dragon turned its great head to look directly at Aiden, the first thing to in this unreal scene to take note of his presence. The young man, bewildered by the shocking events he had witnessed, froze, his eyes locked with that of the dragon. The moment passed, and the great beast turned its attention to steel warrior before it. A flash of white light engulfed the battlefield and a blast of wind sucked Aiden off his feet, causing him to stumble forward. Reflexively, he reached out his hands to stop the fall and dropped the glowing orb, shattering it upon the ground of the cave and leaving Aiden staring into the quiet darkness once more, too overcome to even noticing the blood gushing from one of his hands.

Chapter One

A splash of cold water on Aiden's forehead jolted him out of his nightmare. The ever-present sound of rain on the roof tiles brought the young man back to the present, and as the nightmare faded, his racing heart slowed. He unconsciously rubbed his right hand, the memory of a large piece of glass sliding into his flesh all too real after the dream.

Wiping the drops of water from his forehead, Aiden noted that once again, the roof of the inn room was leaking, despite registering a complaint with the Innkeeper several times in the past few days. The young man pulled the covers of his bed back up around his neck and shifted into a different position to avoid the water droplets coming in through the ceiling, determined to get back to sleep.

The horrid feelings associated with his nightmare quickly diminished, as they always did; it was a common experience for him these days, and one he had become used to enduring every few nights. He didn't wake up like this every time, but the dream was still as powerful now as it was when he had fallen in that hole over three years ago. Whether it was the shock of the event that had burned it into his mind, or an after-effect of whatever magic was involved in the strange vision, Aiden always experienced the memory of that event as if it happened yesterday.

Another splash of water smacked into the side of his head and in a sudden fit of frustration, he threw back the blankets and sat up in bed. He cast a baleful glance at the ceiling, but his anger quickly subsided. After all, the ceiling wasn't leaking upon him on purpose; it was simply constructed of wood and thatch, and bore him no malice.

The shifting of blankets on the bed across the small inn room let Aiden know that Pacian was awake, to some degree.

"Has it stopped raining yet?" he asked, sleepily. It was a stupid question, but Aiden wasn't in the mood to answer sarcastically.

"Nope, still raining," he replied shortly. "Go back to sleep Pace." A light snoring sound began emanating from the bed almost immediately, and Aiden shook his head in envy, wishing he too could shrug off the stresses of life and fall asleep at will.

A rooster could be heard crowing somewhere in town, hinting that dawn was close, even if it was still pitch black outside. Resigning himself to staying awake, Aiden stood, stretched, and dressed himself quickly as the small room was bitterly cold.

After pulling on his leggings and tunic, he absently touched a small piece of broken glass attached to a simple string, hanging around his neck. The glass was carefully worked to ensure there were no sharp edges on it, for this was the very piece that had been removed from his hand after finally being rescued from the hole that day. His father had fashioned into a necklace for him to keep as a memento of his ordeal, and it had made a very odd birthday present indeed.

He opened the curtain to the small window in his room and leaned against the frame, peering out at the small town of Bracksfordshire as the grey light of dawn began to creep up on the horizon. The heavy clouds that had persisted over the rural community were still present, and the unrelenting rain cast a pall over the otherwise scenic view.

Although he wasn't planning to go outside if he could help it, Aiden put on his longcoat for warmth and then quietly crept over to the door, turning the handle as slowly as he could to leave the room without waking Pacian. A little voice in his head told him he needn’t have bothered, as nothing short of the roof collapsing was likely to wake his blond friend.

Aiden took the stairs down the hallway which led to the common room of the Bracksfordshire Arms Inn, the comfortable and more importantly affordable inn where the two friends had been stuck for over two weeks now. Although accustomed to wet weather in winter, the rain had been steady and unrelenting for as long as they'd been here. When he and Pacian had shown up at the town gates, soaking wet and looking for a break from the weather, they hadn’t realised that the entire town was about to be sealed by order of the Mayor, effectively ending their little expedition from Coldstream shortly after it had begun.

Answers to the inevitable questions such as ‘Why?’ and ‘Are you mad?’ were not forthcoming, save that the Mayor deemed such measures necessary. There was a rumour going around, as they do in small towns, that bandits were killing anyone unfortunate enough to wander outside the town gates. No-one had yet confirmed this of course, leaving the population of sixty or so villagers in a state of perpetual anxiety.

In spite of the early hour, the common room had its share of patrons, sitting around in comfortable chairs illuminated by flickering lamplight. Bracksfordshire was a farming community, and even if there was little work to be done in the fields, farmers were in the habit of rising early. Aiden recognised several people sitting around the common room, people he'd come to know quite well, as one does in a small town with nowhere to go.

There was Jim Clifton, a wheat farmer of advancing years who grumbled about the loss of his crops to anyone within earshot. It was hard to avoid a conversation with the man, given the close quarters, and as such, Aiden knew more about wheat farming than any one man should. Laura Patel, a charming young lady more suited to a thriving city than the simple life in the country, ran a clothing store across the street which had done some brisk business in cloaks and longcoats at the start of the bad weather, but her stock was now depleted and with the town closed off, was unable to bring in more.

Along with a few other farmers and shop owners, these people were huddled around the fire for warmth and to dry their clothes from the dash through the rain necessary to get to the inn. The musty smell of wet clothing and damp skin was ever-present in the close quarters, although the innkeeper apparently had the brilliant idea of attempting to mask the odour by burning some scented candles at the bar.

Aiden nodded in silent greeting to some of the locals as he passed the fireplace, on his way to the counter. The inn was by far the largest building in town, and featured the finest appointments present in the small community. Bracksfordshire was built on a major highway between the port city of Culdeny to the north and Fort Highmarch to the south, so traders always stopped by for at least a few days to sell their wares to the locals, but this time their stay was much longer than they'd bargained for.

"Mornin' Aiden," said the burly Innkeeper as Aiden pulled up a stool. His thick beard was iron grey and did a fine job of disguising his heavy jowls. "You're up early today."

"I'm just too tired to sleep, if that makes any sense," the young man replied.

The Innkeeper chuckled while wiping down the counter with a cloth. "I think everyone in this room knows what you mean. Well, except her maybe." He nodded to a young woman of incredible beauty sitting at the other end of the bar. She was warming her hands on a steaming cup of broth. Aiden had seen her around the inn before, but never had the courage to speak to her.

She had long, flowing hair that seemed to be blonde, but was so pale as to be almost white. Her delicate features were matched by her graceful movements - the way she blew on the hot cup of liquid to cool it, the thoughtful expression that crossed her face as she pondered what Aiden guessed were 'deep thoughts', and the way she smiled at him when it became obvious she was being stared at by a young man of about Aiden's age, height, and appearance.

Aiden snapped his head straight back to the Innkeeper, suddenly aware that he had been gazing at her; again. The Innkeeper grinned at him, but tastefully refrained from commenting. Instead, he offered to provide him with some breakfast. It occurred to Aiden that he had never learned the man’s name, and it was probably too late to ask without being rude.

"Uh, eggs, toast, and some cheese?" he replied after a moment’s thought.

"Only if you like your cheese with an extra helping of mould, so,” the Innkeeper grunted in reply. “Water's got down into the cellar, and it's a bloody mess down there."

"Oh… in that case, forget the cheese," Aiden said. He hesitated briefly as he tried to ask the man's name, but couldn't figure a way to work it smoothly into the conversation. Instead, he covered his awkward pause with a topic change. "It was a good idea to use those scented candles to cover the smell, by the way. The air was starting to get a little pungent in here."

"Oh that wasn't my idea," the Innkeeper replied, nodding once more to the other end of the bar meaningfully. "I'll go fetch your breakfast."

Aiden turned to see the lovely young woman smiling at him. Although rarely short of words, something about her took his breath away. Fortunately, she took the initiative. Her voice was crisp and clear, and she had obviously been well-educated. In the dimly lit room her light brown eyes seemed to be golden, as the firelight danced over her features.

"I think we've all had enough of that smell, so I thought a few scented candles might be a pleasant change," she told him in her sweey, honeyed voice.

"Yeah, you were right about that," Aiden replied, wincing at his choice of words. He was going to say more but decided that the less he said, the less chance he had of making a complete fool out of himself. At times like this, he regretted that his parents had never made enough money to provide him with a better education.

"They won't last, though," the lady continued. "I only brought a few with me from Culdeny, and packed them as an afterthought. If I had known we'd all be stuck inside here for a month, I'd have brought a sack of them."

"If we'd have known that we'd be stuck inside together for weeks at a time, none of us would have come here in the first place," Aiden remarked. "I certainly have places I need to be."

"Most of us here do, I suspect. Bracksfordshire relies on trade quite heavily." She paused for a moment. "My name is Nellise Sannemann, by the way."

"I'm Aiden Wainwright. Nice to meet you."

"The feeling is mutual, Aiden," Nellise replied, smiling warmly. "Wainwright, is it? Do you make wains and wagons for a living?"

"My father does, yes. Third generation. I don't really have much to do with it, though."

"Not following in your father's footsteps?" she inquired politely.

"I... have talents in other areas of expertise," he replied carefully. He wasn't in the habit of telling people that he was hunting relics and legends for a living. Ever since his experience in that cave years ago, he had been compelled to find out what it all meant, but he was reluctant to mention such things to anyone else, something he’d learned the hard way.

No-one had believed his story about the vision he had seen, so after he finally gave up trying to convince people, Aiden had taken every opportunity to learn more about enchanted relics, ancient languages and history. Every copper jack he could earn or get his hands on went towards buying old books from merchants who passed through the town, and in this fashion Aiden had been in charge of his own education.

Three years and more he had spent pouring over old tomes, a vocation that his parents were not at all impressed with. They would have preferred that he spend more time with the other children of his age, or learning the trade with his father instead of chasing dreams. A few weeks ago, the tension that had been brewing in his family came to a head, and after a heated argument on an early winter's morning, Aiden made the decision to set out on his own.

Pacian had come along for other reasons, and Aiden suspected his friend didn't believe his story of great battles and a golden dragon either, but his presence here with Aiden probably had a lot to do with the roguish blond lad’s own father. The two of them had a painful past that living together only served to remind each other of. It was always uncomfortable being in the same room as the two of them, for the silence was deafening. Aiden didn’t like to talk about it, and tried to keep Pacian from dwelling on it too much either, for his own good.

Nellise studied Aiden's distracted face for a few moments before she spoke again. "You had a disagreement over what you wanted to do with your life, that much is obvious."

Aiden looked at her in surprise. "How did you know that?” Nellise's smile was warm and understanding.

"You're not hard to read, Aiden, and I have a knack for that sort of thing. I do apologise if I'm being too nosey, by the way. It's just nice to have some pleasant conversation for a change."

"It's quite alright, I know what you mean,” the young man smiled, trying to hide his enthusiasm for speaking with this beautiful woman. At that moment, a small girl of roughly eight or nine years of age appeared behind the bar with a plate of food, and placed it on the smooth wooden counter in front of Aiden.

“Your breakfast is done sir!” she beamed.

“Uh, thanks, it looks delicious,” Aiden offered. The girl's smile almost took in her ears, so he felt the compliment was in order. It seemed to work, as she turned and headed back into the kitchen, her mission accomplished.

“Now that's service,” Aiden quipped, drawing a quiet laugh from Nellise. “Sorry to interrupt our conversation but this plate of food and I have a prior engagement.”

“Oh, of course. Enjoy your breakfast, for it may be the last decent one you have for some time.”

Aiden's fork, laden with food, stopped a few inches from his open mouth. He looked at Nellise and raised an eyebrow.

“Cheese isn't the only thing we're short of around here,” she replied to his unspoken question. “If Olaf doesn't open up the gates soon, we're going to be dining on shoe leather.”

“Olaf?”

“The Mayor,” Nellise clarified. “I spoke with him two days ago about opening the gates but he flatly refused. He seemed rather out of sorts, to be honest. Very strange. But don't let this bother you now, Aiden. We'll talk about it more after you've eaten.”

Aiden blinked at her, then slowly returned his focus to the food before him, which suddenly tasted like the best eggs and toast he'd ever eaten.

He was nearing the end of his meal when a man strode up next to him at the counter and slammed down a large wooden mug. The smell of stale beer and body odour washed over Aiden, making him glad he was just about to finish eating.

“Beer me,” the man said in a low, gruff voice. The Innkeeper strode over to the counter from where he was preparing some food and looked the newcomer straight in the eye.

“Alright, but this is the last one, Colt.”

“It's the last one when I say it's the last one. Now fill 'er up.” The Innkeeper shook his head, but proceeded to fill the mug from a tap behind the counter.

“A little early in the morning to be drinking, isn't it?” Nellise asked of the man called Colt.

“Since I never slept, I don't think it matters, Nellise,” he grunted in reply.

“You really shouldn't do this to yourself,” she counselled, her voice conveying genuine concern. “You can't just hide from your problems like this.” Colt's face, which had the sluggish, unfocused look of the professional drinker, suddenly focused on Nellise with alarming clarity.

“You think I like sitting around in this bloody inn getting drunk off my ass? It's not like there's anything else to do. I mean, sure, I had a job until recently, but who needs it? Not me, that's who!” He quaffed his mug of beer quickly and slammed it down on the counter. “Another!”

“I told you, that was the last one,” the Innkeeper reminded him, his stern face hinting he was not going to relent so easily this time. Sensing a potential fight, Aiden quickly sized-up Colt. He was a heavy-set man, just over six feet in height, with a considerable build that gave Aiden pause. This man could probably throw a solid punch, and the young man was reluctant to put himself in harms way.

The Innkeeper, however, didn't seem to be fazed by Colt's aggressive demeanour and heavy build. He may have been past forty years of age and carrying a lot of extra weight, but he didn’t show any fear of yet another rowdy drunkard in his bar. Aiden hoped his confidence wasn’t misplaced, for Colt could probably make an Innkeeper-skinned rug from the old fellow if he really wanted.

“Don't start holding back on me now, mate,” Colt growled. “I've still got a ways to go before the room starts spinning. So keep 'em coming, I say.”

“No, you don't seem to get it,” the Innkeeper informed him patiently. “I'm not holding back 'cause I think you're getting drunk.” In one movement he hefted a keg onto the counter and pried open the top. “I told you it was the last one. As in, we're out of beer.”

Colt's eyes, which had been narrowed with terrible focus on the obstacle between him and drunken oblivion, suddenly grew wide with understanding. He leaned forward and looked into the keg, then back at the Innkeeper.

“Are you telling me you're out of beer? Completely?”

“Yep, and out of just about everything else too,” the Innkeeper added. “Was expecting a shipment from Culdeny a few days ago but of course, the town is sealed. So if you've got a problem with this, I suggest you take it up with the Mayor.” With that, he turned and walked over to where the little girl was chopping up tired looking carrots near the kitchen.

Colt watched him walk away, and then slumped down in the seat next to Aiden, looking thoroughly dejected. Aiden swallowed his last mouthful of breakfast, put down his utensils, and tried not to appear too awkward. After a few moments of silence, he decided to break the ice.

“So, what's your story?” he asked, smiling faintly to show he appreciated the absurdity of the question. Colt turned a pair of baleful, bloodshot green eyes toward him, ignoring his smile.

“And you are..?”

“My name's Aiden. You are called 'Colt', which I assume is a family name?” Colt didn’t reply, leaving the question unanswered. After a few moments, Aiden figured there would be nothing else forthcoming, so he attempted to find something to talk about. Colt was dressed in grimy leathers, dyed green and brown in various places. They looked vaguely familiar, although he couldn't quite remember where he'd seen the like before. The burly man was unshaven, with short dark hair and a heavy jaw, and seemed to be fairly young – perhaps only a few years older than Aiden.

“That's an interesting outfit you have on,” he commented, genuinely curious about Colt's attire.

“Is there some reason we're having this delightful chat, or are you just interested in a bit of company?” Colt asked sarcastically, his voice hoarse from too much drinking. Or perhaps not enough? It was hard to tell. “If it's companionship you want I'm sure Nellise will talk your ears off, and she's a lot better looking than I am.”

“Better smelling, too,” Nellise observed quietly.

“I’m sorry if I'm disturbing you-”Aiden continued, but was interrupted by the beligerant man.

“You are. Beat it.”

“I was just eating breakfast here so uh, I'll go back to doing that, then,” Aiden mumbled, wishing he hadn’t bothered to talk to him in the first place.

“Whatever,” Colt grunted. Sensing the end of the conversation, Aiden returned his gaze to the empty plate before him, realizing he'd forgotten to pay. Looking up, he noticed the small girl looking expectantly at him. Smiling back, and managing to look a little ashamed at the same time, Aiden reached down and pulled out his coin pouch from inside his longcoat.

He frowned at its lack of weight, and then turned it inside out over the counter. Three copper jacks rolled onto the bench top, making a neat yet minuscule pile of coins that would barely cover the meal. The girl quickly took two coins from the pile.

“Thank you, and have a nice day,” she declared in the uncertain voice of someone new to the field of customer relations. Aiden nodded absently as he stared down at his last coin.

“I think I have a problem,” he commented quietly to no-one in particular. Nellise glanced over and noticed the coin.

“If that's the extent of your personal fortune, then yes, I suppose you do.”

“You have to understand,” Aiden replied, agitated, attempting to make it seem like he wasn't on the verge of being flat broke. “You see, I had a plan. I had work lined up! If I hadn't been stuck in this bloody inn for two weeks I'd have money.”

“You're not the only one here with that problem,” Nellise pointed out. “I'm not exactly draped in riches either, and poor Colt over there can't even afford a bath.”

“Bathing in winter is bad for you,” Colt grunted, glancing at Nellise. She ignored him, and instead moved closer to Aiden and spoke in hushed tones. He tried not to let her proximity distract him.

“I've asked around. The entire town is running low on supplies. Bracksfordshire relies on traders bringing in goods and buying produce from the local farming community. This... lockdown... is strangling the town.”

“Perhaps someone should talk to the Mayor? It seems like madness to keep the place locked for so long,” Aiden mused.

Nellise nodded. “I spoke with him only yesterday. He is definitely agitated about something, and he refused to listen. I... don't have as much influence in this town as I'd like.”

Aiden raised an eyebrow as he picked up on something. “Are you someone who would normally have influence, perhaps a noble or some such?”

“In my home town of Culdeny, I help run the local Church. I'm an acolyte with the Resolute Heralds.” Nellise said.

“Oh, I see,” Aiden replied, slightly crestfallen. He was fairly certain that priests took a vow of chastity, or something similar. It put an end to certain plans that may or may not have been forming in the back of Aiden's teenage mind. In a way, this was a good thing – he was normally a quick thinker, but Nellise's presence had addled him somewhat. Now, he suddenly felt able to concentrate once more.

“Well... I can't wait around in town forever, hoping that the Mayor has a moment of sanity. I can’t stay here any longer so I think I’ll stop by and have a few words with him and see if I can’t convince him to open the gates once more.” Colt made a strange grunting sound, apparently scoffing at Aiden's proposal. The young man had heard just about enough of this attitude from the dirty, angry drunk.

“You have something to add?”

“Yeah, I went and spoke to him a few days ago too. Seems like most people have lately, but I went in there and told him I'd throttle the pompous bastard with his own neck fat if he didn't let me out of here.”

“The fact that you are still here leads me to think that you weren't altogether successful,” Aiden observed coolly. Colt looked a little ashamed as he reluctantly nodded.

“He called the guards on me. Took a knock to the head from one of their billy-clubs and woke up in the local barracks.”

“Oh Colt,” Nellise admonished, shaking her head. “Force isn't going to work here. Olaf requires a delicate touch.”

“But you already said you didn't have any luck,” Colt argued, perhaps not thinking out his words fully before speaking. Nellise flushed shyly, suddenly understanding his meaning.

“Not like that, I mean... making him see reason.” The look on her face practically begged Aiden to change the topic. He noticed Pacian enter from across the room, apparently having just woken up a few minutes ago, making his way towards the bar. Aiden signalled him to come over but didn't wait for his arrival before turning back to Colt.

“Apparently neither of your methods has worked. I propose we all go over there and calmly explain to him the situation, and how critical it is that the gates be opened once more. We're not going to threaten him” - Colt gave him a sour look but remained silent - “but we're not going to leave until we get what we need.”

“We're doing what now?” Pacian asked, completely oblivious to what was going on. Breakfast around this place rarely involved anything more than food, and Pace was always a bit slow first thing in the morning. Aiden summarised in the name of expediency.

“We're getting out of this town.”

“Finally. Can I eat first?” Aiden nodded and stood up, allowing his friend to use his seat.

“Anything good here?” Pace asked no-one in particular.

“I think they have a bit of leftover stew from last night,” Aiden recommended, mostly due to the low price of leftover stew. His blond friend had run out of money earlier in the week and Aiden's last copper jack was all they had left of the few silvers they'd manage to put together before leaving Coldstream a month ago. The Innkeeper looked over, having heard the conversation, and went over to a bubbling pot to ladle out some stew that had been simmering for most of the night.

“Who the hell is this?” Colt growled.

“Pacian Savidge. A friend of mine. We're travelling together.”

“You look to be about the same age,” Nellise observed. “Did you grow up together?”

“We sure did,” Pacian replied, glancing at the beautiful young priestess, and then doing a double take that almost made Aiden laugh out loud. “Someone had to keep an eye on Aiden, ‘cause he's one shifty character, always getting into trouble and whatnot.” His grin almost took in his ears, and it was aimed straight at the young acolyte. Pace always seemed to have an easier time talking to girls, and he had only become more confident with age.

“I have the distinct impression you are describing yourself there, young man,” Nellise chided, evidently fully aware of Pacian's intentions. Aiden had a theory that beautiful women always secretly desired such attention, but in the case of this young priestess, he could not be sure that his theory would stand up. In any event, he resolved to inform his friend of Nellise's vocation as soon as possible, just to avoid any unpleasant consequences.

Pace just laughed, not ashamed at being caught out at his little game, and then turned his attention to his breakfast as it arrived. After a few slurps, a thought occurred to the blond rogue.

“I could use some bread with this, and maybe some extra ham, if you have any.”

“Well, I wasn't going to mention this until later, but we're kind of broke now,” Aiden replied. “That's going to be your last meal until we figure out how to get out of here.

Pace stopped eating and turned to look Aiden straight in the eye. Seeing no attempt at humour, he paused for a moment before continuing to eat, albeit much slower. The Innkeeper loomed over the bar, catching Aiden's attention.

“You're planning to get out of the town somehow lad?”

“'Somehow' being the important word there,” Aiden replied. “But yes, we can't afford to stay locked up here any longer as I’m pretty much broke now.”

“If you do manage to find your way north to Culdeny, do me a favour and go to the local brewery and organise a shipment of drinks?”

“I’m not a delivery company,” Aiden hedged.

“Don't worry about that, I know what he needs,” Colt offered quickly.

“I'm sure you do,” Aiden remarked, having found the right man for the job. The burly man and the Innkeeper discussed the deal as Aiden sat back and watched, until they shook hands in agreement a few minutes later.

“I might as well just throw my money over the fence and let the bandits have it then,” the Innkeeper sighed, drawing a wolfish grin from the big man. “Now, you boys be careful on the roads; I hear all sorts of rumours about what's going on out there, and I don't want to hear that you've met an unfortunate end. You keep a close eye on them for me Colt?”

“What, so I'm a babysitter now?”

“I'll clear your tab if you manage to get them back here alive with the beer delivery,” the Innkeeper offered. The big man paused in thought for a long moment.

“I guess that's a 'yes' then,” he replied, apparently unable to resist the allure of free beer, which also happened to be the value of their lives to the big man, a more than dsisquieting thought to Aiden. A moment later Pacian had finished his stew and the small group gathered their things and moved out the door.

The mud in the streets was barely visible beneath the eight inches of water that cascaded across the surface, but it was there nonetheless. Aiden led them in a quick run across the street that ended up covering their legs in more water than would have been the case if they’d simply walked slowly, to say nothing of the mud that had been kicked up. Clearly there was an art to navigating conditions like this, something Aiden didn’t have the patience to learn.

By now the mid-winter sun was just beginning to appear over the eastern horizon, the only glimpse of it that anyone in town would have of it for the rest of the day before being obscured by the dark clouds. As usual, the rain was mild yet unrelenting, with no trace of wind that might push the bad weather away, leaving the town perpetually covered in the foul weather.

The small group entered the Mayor's office a few moments later, which turned out to be a converted two-storey house. Aiden was impressed by the lavish furnishings placed around the office, including an elaborate candelabrum perched on a small polished table, provided decent illumination to the entryway. A painting of a strange desert landscape hung over a comfortable looking sofa, and intricately woven carpets covered the floor.

Aiden decided that it was probably a thoughtful idea to remove his coat, already wet and muddy from the brief trip across the road to prevent it dripping water on to the carpets. Nellise and Pacian did likewise, and Colt removed his grey cloak, revealing camouflage-coloured leathers and the massive sword he had strapped to his back upon leaving the inn. Like the man himself, it wasn’t even remotely subtle.

A pretty young lady with narrow lips and large brown eyes sat behind an oaken desk, busily sorting through a pile of papers before her. Although it was unlikely she missed the entrance of the four people, she nevertheless remained focused on the task before her. Despite the importance of this office, there was no sign of a single armed guard that Aiden found curious.

“Pardon me, but we'd like to see the Mayor, if he's available,” Aiden asked politely, moving to stand before the desk.

“The Mayor has only just risen for the day, and isn't ready to see visitors yet,” she informed them curtly. Although young, she was showing great potential to become an irritating, obstructionist secretary that such people aspire to. Her parents must have been very proud.

“We can wait,” Aiden replied, turning to the others with a shrug and indicating they should make themselves comfortable. There was only room for three people on the sofa, so Colt stood by the small window near the door and looked out into the street. Aiden sat next to Nellise, and once again found his mind revolving around certain thoughts of a physical nature, in spite of her career choice.

A few minutes later, a bored looking Pacian stood up and in one swift movement, walked past the secretary and into the room beyond.

“Excuse me, you can't go in there!” the young lady protested. Colt laughed softly and followed him. Seeing his attempt to coerce the Mayor with subtle dialog slip away, Aiden groaned inwardly and followed them, with Nellise right behind him. He caught a glimpse of the secretary's face as he strode past and felt a little guilty about running roughshod over her fledgling authority, but one thing he'd learned growing up was that once Pace set his mind to doing something, nothing was going to stand in his way unless it punched him in the face.

Stepping into what was apparently a converted dining room, Aiden saw his friend standing before a middle-aged man of means, wearing fine clothing and with a carefully groomed moustache adorning his face. He sat at a fine table near a blazing fireplace, holding a spoon in one hand and a bowl of untouched soup before him. His gaunt appearance told Aiden that he hadn't been eating properly for some time now.

“Are you the Mayor?” Pacian asked shortly.

“I am indeed,” he replied, “who in blazes are you?” The old man was clearly upset about the interruption to the breakfast he wasn't eating.

“My friends and I are travellers who happen to be stuck in this damp little town of yours, and we want to leave,” Pacian continued. Despite his initial shock at the abrupt introduction, the Mayor quickly recovered.

“I’m sorry, but it’s out of the question,” he said impatiently. “The gates are sealed for the protection of the town. And I thought I said I never wanted to see you in here again, Mister Colt,” he added, noticing the burly man looming in the background.

“Relax Olaf, I'm not going to threaten you,” Colt grunted. “But these three seem to have something important to tell you, so listen up.”

“Three? Oh yes, Nellise and some... friends,” Olaf remarked. “Is this impertinent rapscallion an acquaintance of yours?”

“I only met these two this morning, Your Honour,” Nellise told him, raising an eyebrow at Pacian. “We're all in agreement, however. I don't know why you've closed the town for so long, but people are running out of supplies and they may start getting desperate soon.”

“I assure you, I am not insensitive to the plight of the townsfolk. But it is simply far too dangerous to allow anyone to travel outside the walls at this time. Thank you.” The last was delivered with a note of finality. This was a man that wanted to be left alone with his troubles, but Aiden would not be dissuaded so easily.

“Two of those desperate people Nellise mentioned are standing right in front of you,” he said ominously. “We just spent the last of our coin purchasing meals here this morning, and if we can't leave this town today we're going to go hungry. Hungry people do desperate things. And I don't think we're the only ones either.”

“Honestly, this could not have come at a worse time,” the Mayor muttered.

“Why is that, old chap?” Aiden inquired, changing his tone. He sensed that the Mayor's blustering facade had broken with this latest news, and decided to soften his language. No need to back the man into a corner.

“I have something of a personal crisis going on, and it has me rather distracted, for which I apologise,” Olaf apologized, glancing around at the small group with quick eyes.

“I see,” Aiden remarked, not really seeing anything. “Well, we're just seeking permission to leave via the northern gate to Culdeny so if you can see your way-”

“The north road? Good heavens no!” the Mayor interrupted, standing up quickly with sudden agitation. His clothing, while rich and fine, hung from his shoulders, giving the impression the man had lost a lot of weight. “There are bandits to the north, sir, and word has reached me here that savage tribesmen are beginning to gather to the east. I dare not authorise anyone to travel outside the gates until we have received reinforcements.”

Aiden glanced around at the others. Colt rolled his eyes at that statement, and Nellise seemed more than a little concerned about this revelation.

“Olaf, why didn't you mention this to me before?” she quietly asked.

“To be blunt, my dear Nellise, this was none of your concern.”

“Have you tried sending someone to Fort Highmarch?” Colt asked gruffly.

“I have sent several messengers, and two of the local town guards over the past ten days. None have returned.” He paused and looked around at his guests. “Perhaps now you understand our predicament a little better?”

“You said that you refused to let unauthorised people wander about,” Pacian observed. “Authorise us, and then we’ll wander about to our heart’s content.”

“Simple clothes, sparse equipment,” Olaf mumbled as he inspected each of them. “You hardly seem capable of dealing with any of the threats to this town, and I wouldn't wish to endanger your lives needlessly.”

“It has come to the point now that we're being endangered just sitting around town, slowly starving to death,” Aiden pointed out. “Fort Highmarch is nearly three days travel south of here, so the sooner we leave, the sooner we can bring back food and reinforcements.”

“Aside from Colt, I don't think any of you have the skills required to survive the journey, if it is as dangerous as I believe,” the Mayor objected.

“I can guide them there safely,” Colt growled, prompting Aiden to look at him incredulously. He hadn’t expected the oaf to volunteer for anything, given his attitude. Olaf seemed to consider this, and then his expression took on a more considered look.

“I'll tell you what,” he offered. “I'll give you a task to accomplish, and if you succeed, you'll have convinced me of your resourcefulness and genuine desire to help the town.”

“I suppose that's fair,” Aiden hedged, disliking the direction of this conversation but having little choice but to carry on. “What's the task?”

“It's rather delicate, actually,” the Mayor explained. “A former associate of mine is seeking to discredit my name and oust me from my position as Mayor. She wants five gold sovereigns to keep her silent!” Aiden's eyes inadvertently widened in surprise – that was a small fortune by anyone's measure.

“I've tried reasoning with this individual but she simply won't co-operate. I'm not one to employ 'strong-arm' tactics myself, but if you were to... persuade her to see reason and return the documents she is attempting to blackmail me with, you will have proven your worth.”

“Do you expect trouble from this person?” Nellise asked. “I doubt she will simply hand over something quite so valuable simply because we ask her to.”

“I can be very... persuasive,” Pacian offered, smiling coldly. Aiden knew what he was talking about – for someone barely seventeen years of age, Pacian had lived a hard life, and Aiden knew what he was capable of.

“Oh, I don't think violence will be necessary,” Olaf replied, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. “By all means, talk with her first if you will, but do not underestimate her. If she still refuses, feel free to use whatever means you deem necessary to change her mind.”

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