michael

I wrote the following short story as a character background for a PC I was playing at Sunshine Games on Bird Rd. in Miami, FL.

My original intent was to post it here in the blog, chapter by chapter, but I got lazy and decided not to do it, so here is the entire story.

The Tale of Garrick

1. The Early Years
2. The Trip To Calaunt
3. The Tale of His Failed Apprenticeship
4. The Teeth of Calaunt
5. Garrick Rides Patrol For the the Teeth
6. The Mocking Maiden Inn
7. Leaving the City
8. The Fight

1. The Early Years


Garrick was born the son of landed dairy farmers in the Vast. His family earned silver by selling fresh dairy to locals and cured cheeses to nobles in Calaunt. They shared profit with a traveling merchant named Mazen Kablos who delivered their cheeses to Calaunt every other week. Mazen was a clever man who, with many winters wearing his bones thin, could still light the night with his strong smile. Mazen was known to be fair but shrewd.


With the coin that his family earned, Garrick was able to attend school in his early years which he took seriously and excelled at in several ways. He was extremely physically strong, had lightning quick reflexes, and never got sick. Being able to calculate quickly and deeply, he was clearly more intelligent than his parents and almost all of the farm hands. Even as a small child, Garrick charmed the daylights out of everyone. As he grew into a young man he worked hard on the farm, yet never showed any real passion for the work.


Garrick was taught to be a skilled woodsman by his father. Often, he would set snares in the woods outside the grazing fields and many nights his rabbits and squirrels would feed the farm hands. Garrick enjoyed riding his horse, Chanticleer, around the fields in attempts to impress the milk maids. Chanticleer was a large, nut brown work-horse with white stockinged fetlocks.


With all of the talent and resources a young man could want at his disposal, he aspired to nothing, for he lacked ambition. Garrick was happy working on the farm, but his parents had other ideas for his talents. In a difficult confrontation, his father and mother decided to shut him out of the family home. They told him that they had been in contact with a mage at Calaunt and he was to become an apprentice of Iritar, the dark. Garrick did not like the sound of Iritar, the dark.


On his way past the gates of the property, Garrick's mother earnestly asked him a puzzling question. “Garrick, are you going to be the kind of person who takes, or are you going to be the kind of person who gives? Because you will have to be one or the other. You either give or take. The choice is yours.”


Sullenly, with the question from his mother turning over in his mind, he left the farm at the age of fourteen. Astride his old horse Chanticleer, Garrick rode north towards Calaunt on a brisk fall morning. The journey should have taken three days, however that was not to be.


2. The Trip To Calaunt


Taking the back trails to the city should have been a minor affair, but it was not. With one day of riding before him Garrick was waylaid by rogues at dusk. In a moment, he was surrounded by three mounted men with bows. They all had arrows nocked and pointed at him. Knowing the woods well, it struck him as odd that these men on horseback should be able to approach him with such stealth. Chanticleer blew through his nose loudly.


“Well, well young sir, what do we have here? Is that a dagger I spy nestled at your waist?” the apparent leader (a hard man with corded muscles and a malicious grin) chided. “I wonder if he is man enough to use it...” he mused to his cohorts.


“I hope so,” was the stoney reply from a bearded scamp with a dark gleam in his eyes. The fiend's arm muscles twitched as he held his bow leveled at Garrick's heart. He added, “I wonder if he will try the bow.”


While his mother's parting words rang in his ears, he knew that if he decided to try either weapon his life would have been forfeit. He deduced that these men were truly the murderous sort, and decided not to struggle against them and give his life for so little. After giving him a sound thrashing and taunting him to fight, they took his bow, dagger, silver and Chanticleer. He knew it would not be the last time he faced a tough situation.


With a broad, wicked grin, the leader of the bandits barked, “Thanks to your kindness young sir, I'll be able to seek the pleasures of Siril at the Mocking Maiden Inn tomorrow night! I hope to see you there!” and they rode off with a jolly laugh. Pain filled his body and he knew that if he had responded to their taunts, they would have pierced him with an arrow where he lay in the dirt, bruised and beaten.


He was hurt and alone with miles to go and no resources. It would have been easier for him to turn around and go back to the farm, but Garrick felt that the assault was a challenge to his determination. He knew that he could do nothing about it then, but he vowed to return the favor to the men one day if the opportunity presented itself. With burning anger filling his heart, Garrick vowed that night to be the type of person that gives. He needed rest to survive though, so he laid down in a bed of pine needles under an old tree and slept fitfully.


In the morning he washed his sore body in a cold stream and found wild gilden-berries and raspberries to hold him over until he could get to Calaunt. Amid much anxiety over his predicament he decided to make it to the Wizard's tower in Calaunt on his own. Garrick was determined not to let his new master, Iritar “the dark”, down.


Mostly healed, he made it almost to Calaunt in two days and decent spirits.


3. The Tale of His Failed Apprenticeship


Near mid-day, as Garrick arrived at the city, he decided that the road would be safer so he passed through the woods onto the cobbled road. When he approached Calaunt he was almost overcome by fear, for guarding the gates were giant stone statues – that moved. They looked down at him without blinking, then looked at each other and resumed their original posture of looking down the road.


The human guards called him over, “State your business in Calaunt, pup. Ignore the golems and they will ignore you.”


“I am to be the apprentice of Iritar.” Garrick cautiously replied. “Can you tell me how to find him?”


In reply to this, the guards frowned and told him how to get to the wizard's tower. “Be on your way, lad, and good luck to you.”


The city smelled of fish guts and rot to Garrick's nose. With foreboding steps, Garrick traveled the route the guards sent him on. He made a note of the shops and inns as he passed through the city, keeping a wary eye out for the Mocking Maiden Inn.


Iritar's tower was a black monolith on the corner of a large fortress named “Five Vultures”. Garrick approached the iron bound slabs of wood that served as a door and banged the knocker mounted on the ancient wood. With a grinding shriek, the door swing outward a few inches and a hooded servant in rough, dirty black robes with a loose, drooping face answered the door with a sullen glare.


“My name is Garrick and I am here to become the wizard's apprentice”, said Garrick, wondering if the servant spoke common.


“You are late,” replied the servant with a dour face and disapproving tones. “The master is not pleased.” Garrick was ushered in and instructed to wait in a dismal sitting room. The air inside the tower burned the soft tissues of his nose and made his eyes itch. I miss Chanticleer, thought Garrick.


After waiting in the sitting room for several minutes with nothing to eat or drink, Garrick began to curiously examine his surroundings. The overall impression the place gave was not pleasing to him. It was cold. His eyes would not stop itching. Strange incenses burned throughout the place and unseen eyes kept watch over him. Garrick's focus was pinned on a grotesque statue of a large animal being devoured by zombies when a dark figure quietly entered the room wearing fine black robes.


The figure stood deathly still, facing Garrick for long moments before pulling down it's hood and revealing the face of a cruel man. He had a pointed beard that shined with oils. His eyes were tight and glaring. He spoke with a lubricated voice that was set upon a foundation of cruel certainty.


“It is well that you did not arrive any later. The master hates to wait and I have been instructed to test you before your lessons begin. My name is Roman,” he introduced himself as he went over to the entrance to the tower and heaved the noisy door open. After he finished speaking he cast a spell that covered the hallway floor to the door with a thick, unctuous slime.


Roman then looked at Garrick, and while smiling hideously he cast another spell. Uttering inhuman, arcane words. Roman's eyes turned black and Garrick could feel what little warmth there was leave the room as Roman summoned dark forces. Garrick trembled before the vulgar display of power. In an instant Roman pointed at him and a black stream of cold splashed into Garrick's heart, draining him of his last courage.


Terror coursed through Garrick, for Roman had unfettered dark and heinous energy. Garrick was certain that if he stayed in the room with him, Roman would devour his soul. Spotting the open door, Garrick ran for it as fast as he could. Then he hit the nasty slime on the floor.


In his haste, his feet went out from under him and his arms pinwheeled as he slipped in the foul grease and smacked his head on the floor. The momentum of his terror-driven escape made him slide right out the door and into the early evening of Calaunt. Cruel laughter followed him out the door and he heard it creak shut with a loud bang! He got to his feet and ran in a blind panic as far as he could from the tower, wishing his parents had not forced him out.


4. The Teeth of Calaunt


Penniless, Garrick decided he would wait for the one person her knew, Mazen the traveling merchant, carrying his family's cheeses, and ride home with him. Not knowing where he was headed, he slipped on some slop in the road and bumped clumsily into the guard that he spoke with upon his entry into the city. In desperate tones, he explained to the guard his situation, from the time he left his parent's farm until his rude ejaculation from Iritar's tower.


“Failing that test was the best thing that could have happened to you, Garrick. My name is Randall Woodtop and bad tales are the only things that come out of that tower,” said the guard with a gritty voice that implied experience. He paused for a moment and asked Garrick a few questions and then told him to follow him to the guard barracks. “We are known as the Teeth of Calaunt, lad, and we could use someone that has experience handling animals.”


So with the smell of rotten fish in his nose, Garrick followed Randall back to the barracks where he was put up for the night in the stable. He was handed a warm mug of ale and told he would be earning it on the morrow. Thus was Garrick introduced to the Teeth.


Garrick spent the next two years taking care of the Teeth's horses and running errands. He often spoke with Mazen about his family, from whom, he discovered that his family's cheeses were highly prized around the city. Mazen told Garrick he also had been robbed on the road to Calaunt by what seemed like the same bandits, but there were more of them.


“If the Lords of Calaunt want to continue to collect the tax from my trade, then they are going to have to do something about these bandits. It's not safe to travel any more.” Mazen complained bitterly. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with Siril in the Mocking Maiden Inn!”


Siril! Garrick was stunned! “Who is Siril? I need to know,” he demanded and grabbed Mazen's arm. Mazen gave a robust laugh and muttered something about Garrick's mother cutting off his wagon wheels as he pulled his arm free and drove his horses and wagon down the cobbled streets.


From the Teeth, Garrick later found out that the Mocking Maiden inn was a brothel in the city. “Siril is a half-elf, and she's something of a legend around here,” said Randall with a grin. With a shudder, Garrick wondered if he could talk to her about the dark man that had attacked him. He also wondered what it was like to go into a brothel. Garrick could not muster the courage to face those things. He decided to stay focused on his duties of taking care of the stables and horses for the Teeth.


He came to know many of the guards and heard their tales of battling Orcs deep in the Vast or of running pirate raids on the Dragonreach Sea. The Teeth were a rowdy and undisciplined bunch that fought amongst themselves often. Garrick was introduced to arms and armor and began his training in their use. Shortly after he turned sixteen, he was asked to join the Teeth. He accepted the offer with some misgivings, but knew it was time to grow. He often shared a pint or three with Randall as they became friends.


One night when they were in their cups, Randall told Garrick about the time he stopped the theft of some jewels from leaving the city by hacking one the legs out from under the thief's horse. Randall did not seem happy about that story and Garrick could understand why. He felt that it was one thing to kill a thief, but to kill a horse to stop the thief would be a tough choice to make. Garrick thought about this often when he missed his old friend Chanticleer.


After several months of hard training and patrolling around the city, Garrick was selected to go on special patrol into the woods to help stop a band of brigands that had been harassing some travelers along the road and back trails. Some people had even been killed by these bandits. Garrick could not help but think about the time he was attacked by the cruel men in the woods. He wondered if he would meet them on this journey and he was afraid.


5. Garrick Rides Patrol For the Teeth


The Teeth set out on horse with seven soldiers and met a ranger outside the gates past the unnerving presence of the statue guards. As the force set out into the woods, Garrick was much help because of all the time in the forest around his family's farm as a child. He enjoyed the fresh air of the woods.


Garrick and the ranger picked up the tracks of six travelers thought to be the bandits. They followed the tracks with trepidation because the Teeth did not like a fight that was so evenly matched. They followed the tracks for ten days through the back trails and forest to the South and East of Calaunt.


Garrick was worried because they seemed to be heading in the general direction of his family's farm.


One afternoon, just past mid-day, the ranger motioned for the group to stop. He spotted some fresh hoof-prints in the soft earth and dismounted. Everyone loosened their weapons and silently prepared for combat. Garrick's jaw was tight as he gripped his sword's pommel because he had never been in a sword fight outside his training and was very nervous. The closest he had ever come to fighting was in these back-trails and he wished to forget that experience.


After scouting ahead for half an hour, the ranger returned to the party and informed them that the bandits were armed and preparing to break camp ahead. He also said that the bandits had a magic-user in their camp. The air grew tight with fear as the Teeth realized how dangerous their situation was becoming. The arrests would not be easy.


Garrick remembered the attack on him two years ago and how strange it seemed at the time that the bandits had been able to sneak up on him so silently. He asked the ranger if one of the men was riding a horse with white stockinged fetlocks around all of it's legs. Surprised, the ranger looked at Garrick, evaluating him and replied that a horse with white fetlocks was indeed ridden by one of the men.


“I think they can use magic to move silently on horse-back.” Garrick informed his companions. The group accepted the warning because they had heard the tale of Garrick's encounter in these woods before and readied themselves for combat. Leaving the horses tied to trees, they spread in a circle around the camp as quietly as they were able, but they were not quiet enough. Randall stumbled a little on a loose stone and someone from the bandit camp shouted an alarm to his fellows.


Without warning, an arrow struck Garrick's left forearm and he let out a bark as burning pain shot up his elbow. He ducked behind a tree as quickly as possible knowing his shooter would be sighting for him.


Quickly the men attacked the camp in a moderately organized fashion and the battle began in earnest. With an effort of will, Garrick pulled the arrow the rest of the way through his arm and came around the tree to join the battle. He was shocked by what he saw. Two of the Teeth were already on the ground with horrifying wounds upon their bodies.


Then Garrick saw the man with corded muscles who had robbed him of his wealth, horse and dignity. The man had mounted Chanticleer and was coming around some trees to line up for a charge at Randall's back. Garrick knew the only way to save Randall was to stop the man's charge. The man wore the same malicious grin as when he took Garrick's horse and left him beaten and lying in the dirt. The man was riding Chanticleer!


Garrick remembered how Randall had shown him kindness and offered him work when he first got to Calaunt and the times they shared over drinks. He remembered how good he used to feel riding Chanticleer around the fields of his family's farm trying to impress the farm hands before he ever went to the city. Garrick remembered being left for dead with a mouth full of dirt at the hands of this man who was now about to kill Randall. With savage force the man clapped his spurs into Chanticleer's ribs and the horse sprang into motion.


With screeching pain in his left arm and torment in his soul, Garrick ran to intercept the charge and rammed his sword into Chanticleer's flank. The horse screamed as it fell and the man looked at Garrick with hate-filled recognition as he was thrown to the ground. Garrick was now disarmed because his sword was stuck in Chanticleer.


“You will pay for that,” swore the man, enraged. Unbelievably, the man began to sing. As he chanted dark words, his companions took up greater spirit in their fighting and the man disappeared from plain sight. Suddenly, Garrick could not hear anything at all. He could neither hear nor see the man any more. Chanticleer lie, dying on the ground. Garrick could see that his blood had mingled with the blood of his horse. Fearfully, he ran to fight at Randall's side.


They clashed with the bandits, but Garrick fought weakly. He was losing blood. He had killed his own horse to save Randall and he was numb of mind. His eyes swam as one of the villains struck his leg with a short sword. The last thing Garrick remembered seeing was Randall cut the bandit's foot off with a nasty swipe of his longsword.


6. The Mocking Maiden Inn


Garrick spent the next day strapped over a horse, unconscious. He awoke to a dull aching pain in his arm and leg. They were still traveling through the woods. His head swam nauseatingly as he looked to his right and saw Randal walking next to him. The fight had not gone well. Grey and purple stars shot through his mind as he passed out again.


“It looks as if Master Horse-Slayer has rejoined us.” a voice like stones being rubbed together spoke with mock humor. Garrick took note of his surroundings. It was night and he was at a small camp with four of his companions around a small fire. Garrick could smell rotting meat.


“What happened?” he asked. It felt like sand was in his throat. No matter how much he swallowed, he could not work up any moisture.


Randall informed him that several of the soldiers had died in the fight and that most of the bandits ran away, “At best it could be called a draw, but only if the brigands we wounded die. But this criminal will be rid of once we return to the city.” Randall sounded tired and old to Garrick and he saw a vicious, ragged wound healing across Randall's shield shoulder.

Suddenly, Garrick realized who had called him “Master Horse-Slayer”. It was the bearded scamp who had hoped that Garrick would try to defend himself with his bow two years ago. Garrick weakly glared at the cretin.


In the same mocking tones of loose stones, “How's your arm feel? It'll ache before a storm for the rest of your life. You can thank me for that later!” said the bearded scamp with a dark gleam in his eyes before issuing forth a tight laugh.


“Then that makes it two I owe you,” Said Garrick weakly before eating a bowl of stew offered by Randall. The meat was dark, somewhat sweet and very tough.


The filthy fiend piped up again, “I hope your stupid horse tastes better than it rode.” Randall silenced him with a heavy boot to the face. Garrick ate campfire stew made from his dead horse and drank the ale of his dead companions that night.


They had been traveling toward the cobbled road and returned to Calaunt the next day and made their reports to the Sergeant Major. Only four of the guards made it back alive. They had taken only one prisoner and had one confirmed kill – the one that Randall had be-footed. The scamp was tried and sentenced to the dungeon below the city, and that was the last Garrick saw of him. Calaunt still smelled of fish guts.


The day after the trial, Garrick went by a smithy that Mazen sometimes traded with on that day of the week. The surly dwarven shopkeeper recognized Garrick and frowned at his entrance to the shop.


“You'll wait for Mazen if you want to hear news of your family's farm, for I won't be the one to tell you the bad news, except to say that there is indeed bad news. I'm sure he wouldn't want me to inform you of the trouble, excepting to ask you to wait for him, he'll be back shortly, that is I wouldn't want to tell you anyway, because the news is so very awful. Yes indeed, I makes it me own business to trade in worked metals, not information. Nope, you won't get anything more from me on the matter, Mazen would want to tell you his self, indeed he would, all he would ask of me is that I ask you to wait until he returns from the jewelry store three blocks over.”


No amount of prodding could get the smith to reveal more and he had no coin with which to purchase the information. It was not long before Mazen entered the shop. When he looked into Garrick's eyes, Mazen's usually clever eyes were dull. There was a haggard weariness about the man. Sensibly, the dwarf's wife took her husband out for lunch.


“Your family's barn has been burned down by those bandits. They killed the cattle in a senseless slaughter.” The blood drained from Garrick's face as he almost swooned.


“Is my mother alive?”


“I do not think anyone was hurt, but they made sure we knew it was them. They were laughing about you killing your own horse.” Garrick boiled inside.


Garrick burst out of the shop immediately, furiously marching down the cold, hand-crafted brick streets. His face was a mask of death as he stormed down the road. People pushed each other in a frenzy to stay out of his way. Nobles made it plain that they wanted to get out of his way. His hand was an iron vise on the leather-wrapped hilt of his long sword.


He quickly passed into a less traveled part of the city. Water dripped from the corner of a roof to the cobbles of the empty street. Garrick was galvanized by loss and anger. His boots clocked to a halt and he looked up at a sign he had seen before, but had always been afraid to go past.

The sign was a wood shingle about the size of a large shield that was brightly colored. It was fashioned from three vertical planks of grainy wood pegged together. The shingle was painted with the image of a beautiful woman suggestively offering a mug of ale. Garrick had business in the Mocking Maiden Inn.


Garrick slammed the door open and stepped into the inn. Cold damp air blew in making the fireplace and several candles dance wildly. With a malevolent glare he spoke: “I have business with Siril.”


The innkeeper informed him that he would have to wait his turn because she was occupied at the moment, “...and if you ever slam that door again, I will do the same with your manhood,” she finished defiantly. Garrick apologized and decided to have an ale while he waited. As he sat at the bar fuming over the loss of his family's livelihood, he took note of his surroundings.


The Inn was warm and mostly clean. The walls were a light brown wood and looked very old and worn. An iron chandelier hung from the beamed ceiling, it's tallow candles casting yellow illumination on the wooden tables and chairs. The place smelled of cloying perfumes and woodsmoke from the ancient hearth. Garrick felt his eyes burn with stinging salt when he spotted a piece of cheese from his family's farm on the bar, near the stairs. The innkeeper stepped into the back and left Garrick alone in the common room.


Hurriedly, he wiped his eyes when he heard steps on the floor above. Apparently Siril had finished with her customer and was walking to the top of the stairs. An attractive, female half-elf came down the stairs followed by a bearded nobleman wearing blue robes. Garrick assumed the lady was Siril.


As the blue-clad nobleman was making his goodbyes, the door banged open in a rush of chilly air, knocking some mugs off the wall with a crash on the floor. The candles and fire danced as a man with a well-groomed and oiled beard, wearing fine black robes stepped over the threshold and glared into the room.


Garrick's face burned red and with hot shame. Standing in the door of the Mocking Maiden Inn, bearing a large piece of jade, was a man that had humiliated Garrick once before, Roman, apprentice of Iritar.


“Hello there, wizard's apprentice,” said the malicious wizard with a fluid look in his eye. He looked down at a stone he was holding and cast it into the fire, causing a shower of magical sparks to scorch the linens on the tables. “How's the cheese business?” Garrick suspected that Roman knew exactly how well the cheese business was.


Roman continued, “That stone was supposed to lead me to a real wizard. You aren't a real wizard are you? A wizard of cheese perhaps?”


Garrick's hand went to his sword.


“You see, since that stone was supposed to lead me to a wizard, and I paid a lot of gold for it, I must assume that you have been studying the arcane behind the master's back,” Roman posited. Garrick looked around the room and realized that he and Roman were the only ones there. “So I must ask you, are you a wizard? Oh, and please don't draw that sword. The business here would dry up if I were going to boil you alive where you stand.” Roman then pricked his finger on a barb on the cowel of his robe and pulled out a handful of dust from some hidden pocket.


Garrick watched a drop of crimson fall from his finger to the floor and knew this wizard was evil. He knew Roman meant him harm. He also knew that Roman was blocking the door. Garrick asked him, “Why do you seek a wizard?”


With grim patience, Roman said, “The master will not release me until I remove a wizard from Calaunt. After I have rid the city of a wizard, I will pass out of his apprenticeship.”


Garrick considered the words carefully and said, “I am a wizard, but I cannot match you in a magical duel. I am better with the sword than with the lore and I fear that my steel will not best your magic. I remember our first lesson. May I leave town by dark?”


Roman replied that it would be better to leave now, but agreed to give him until sunset after Garrick told Roman that he just wanted to see what the big deal about Siril was before he left town to go to help his family rebuild their barn. “Roman, please remember that it was I, Garrick that assisted you to get free from your master without putting the stain of murder on your soul.”


With a quick nod Roman said, “Sunset,” and walked off without closing the door.


7. Leaving the City


“Well played! Well played indeed young sir! Most excellent, most excellent!” Said a voice without any sign of who spoke.


“Show yourself,” said Garrick, “ I have urgent business with Siril.”


“Business or business?” Said a high, soft voice causing Garrick's stomach to knot.


“My name is Garrick. I am seeking the man that burned my family's livelihood,” he said, staring at the cheese sitting on the bar next to some crusty bread. “I need to pay him a debt.”


“How is it that Siril could help you?” The same light voice made Garrick wish he could see her.


“Because this man knows Siril. Two and a half years ago, the man swore to me he was going to seek your company. Now I seek his.”


“I am sorry, but I cannot help you.”


“Please. I must seek him out. I have a debt to repay.”


“I am sorry, but I cannot help you. I do not know who you are speaking of,” again the same voice, but with hesitancy.


“I need to find him. He is the man that sings evil songs. He hurts people.”


An unpredictable tempest of grief and rage rose in her voice and Garrick saw the woman appear out of thin air as she screamed, “GET OUT AND NEVER COME BACK, I CANNOT HELP YOU. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN!!!” and she picked up the wedge of cheese and hit him in the face with it.


The blue nobleman appeared then and took Garrick by the arm. Soothingly, he added, “You'll get no help from her boy. Trust me on this.” The blue-dressed man placed a gem on the bar and led Garrick from the inn calmly saying, “Thank you.”


When they stepped outside, into the humid fishy air, the blue man introduced himself as, “The Blue Magician”. He explained, “You saved me a good deal of grief in there. It would have been unfortunate if I had had to humiliate the apprentice of Iritar The Dark.” The Blue Magician continued by saying that Iritar had been hunting him since he entered Calaunt and that Garrick had saved him from a nasty run-in with the evil wizard, who would have likely killed him.


The Blue Magician offered to repay Garrick by assisting him in his journeys until they agreed that the Blue Magician had repaid the debt. They planned to meet at the gates before sunset and parted ways.


Garrick met Randall and his friends at the Teeth's barracks and explained to them that Roman and Iritar had asked him to leave town. The Teeth did not like it, but understood. Garrick turned in all of his armor and goods, but they let him keep the sword.


“You earned it, lad.” Said Randal with warmth in his voice. “You're one of the good ones. Don't let the world blacken your heart. Remember to take time out for ale and wenches too.” They clasped hands and Garrick left to meet the Blue Magician at the gates near the stone golem sentries.


Garrick bade his farewells to the guards at the gates and rode past with the Blue Magician. He looked back and saw Roman's robes whipping about in the cold wind atop of the gate tower. Roman was staring down at him as they rode out. Garrick could not see his face, but he would have bet that Roman was not smiling.


After they were well out of the city, the Blue Magician said, “Garrick, I think you will need some supplies for your journey, I will give you some helpful items.” He handed over a backpack, saying, “Reach inside for the boots.”


As Garrick reached into the sack, he thought “boots?” and a pair of boots were in his grasp. He pulled them out with a surprise. They were the finest boots he had ever seen. The Blue Magician explained that the pack was magical and could hold much more than seemed possible. All Garrick needed to do was think about what he wanted and it would appear at the top of the pack. As for the boots, the Blue Magician said they would make Garrick move much faster than other people when he wore them.


“My final gift to you is called Murlynd's spoon. It will feed you when there is no other food. These items are rare magic and you should keep them guarded at all times.” They continued down the road toward Garrick's childhood home.


8. The Fight


Just hours outside Calaunt an arrow whistled past Garrick's head and disappeared into the woods. The Blue Magician reacted instantly, casting a spell that fired a bright blue ray into the evening sky. Two of the thieves from the battle in the forest sprang out of the woods to the side of the road with bare steel in their hands and murder in their posture.


Garrick jerked the reins of his mount and the horse reared up. One of it's hooves struck the center of a bandit's chest and sent him sprawling. The other one died in a flurry of light as magical darts shot from the Blue Magician's fingers and pierced the villain. Another arrow flew past Garrick into the woods. Once again, the Blue Magician drew magical forces through him and a block of ice suddenly grew in the forest where the arrows had been coming from.


Garrick looked at the Blue Magician and saw a small dart strike him in the neck and he slumped in his saddle. Before his eyes, the dark man with corded muscles appeared before him on the road and said, “That is how you handle a wizard.”


Garrick leaped from his horse shouting, “You're going to die!” The dark man began to sing.


The boots really did get Garrick across the ground faster. In a flash he was on the dark man swinging his sword in a vicious arc that was intended to take the man's left arm off above the elbow. The blade passed harmlessly though as the image of the man disappeared.


Blazing pain shocked the back of Garrick's left shoulder and spun him about. The dark man rode a horse silently past Garrick on the damp cobbles bearing a rapier. He has every advantage because of his powerful magic. Hot life's blood flowed down Garrick's waist; he knew he was seriously injured.


Garrick was not defenseless and had learned much about fighting from the Teeth of Calaunt. He knew the man would not be able to get the horse around quickly. Garrick ran off the road into the thicker woods and waited as quietly as he could. He knew he could not trust his eyes with this opponent and he could not hear him. His shoulder made a grinding pain to the left of his spine every time he moved and breathing had become difficult.


The man rode over toward the Blue Magician and dismounted his horse. Using his new speed, Garrick burst out of his hiding spot against the violent spasms of protest his shoulder was giving him. His haste was spurred by his fear that the man would finish off the Blue Magician. The man was ready for Garrick though and turned to face him, bloody rapier in hand. As soon as Garrick came near, the man offered a quick thrust at Garrick's stomach. Quickly, Garrick jerked his waist to the inside of the man's blade and rammed into him, intending to send them both to the ground. But the man was fast and managed to keep his footing Garrick's shoulder screamed with agony, but the night was silent, their fight made no noise at all.


With amazing focus, Garrick accepted the pain in his shoulder, rolled with his fall and came up on his feet. He barely got his sword between them as the dark man beat a series of trained strikes at Garrick. Garrick saw the man's teeth as he grinned with malevolent delight. Apparently the man was a master with rapier as well as magic. But Garrick was strong and young. He saw with crystal clarity that he could outlast the man. He realized that the man had probably exhausted his magic and that the man could probably not sing his evil song while inside the field of mystical silence.


Garrick's insight was cut short as the man pierced his left shoulder again, but from the front this time. Garrick felt the tendons tear with an agonizing rend. I need a shield. Using a reverse grip on his longsword, Garrick came across the front of the man's body and clove deeply into the opponents wrist. The smile left the man's face. Using a back-hand motion, Garrick brought the butt of his pommel crashing into the man's jaw, shattering it and several teeth.


Staggering and reeling, the man rocked back on his heels. Garrick quickly spun clockwise, flashing his sword in a hay-maker fashion towards the man's right leg, he sank it deeply into his thigh. The tendons in the man's neck bulged as he silently screamed, spraying gore from his shattered mouth. When the man fell, he pulled a pouch of coins from his belt off his belt and tossed them at Garrick's feet as he feebly tried to crawl away.


Garrick's left arm hung limply as he staggered in for the kill. Garrick had never killed anyone and his soul was struggling with the decision. He decided killing the man was not within him and kicked him in the head repeatedly until the man was unconscious.


Garrick checked on the Blue Magician, who had injured his neck falling out of his saddle. He laid him out on his back and hoped he would be alright. Then Garrick robbed the dark man of all of his possessions, placing them in his new magic sack. He also robbed all of the dark man's cohorts.


Garrick looked down the road and saw that some of the Teeth were charging down the road on horseback making a raucous clatter. The living bandits were rounded up and thrown in the stockade. Since he refused to go back into the city, a healer was sent out to care for Garrick and the Blue Magician. The Sergeant-Major gave Garrick and the Blue Magician a pouch of coins and personally thanked them for stopping the very dangerous bandits.


In silence, Garrick and the Blue Magician began heading down the road toward Garrick's family's farm.