Magician: Talos Silverfist
(By Dave Ray)
"Damn...", was all Talos could say as he sat in the almost deserted keep called the Drellium. "What else could happen?"
The last few days had harbored terrible occurrences. Not only were half of his companions killed within the last few days, but he feared it wasn’t over yet.
But first, a little background to the man we call, Talos Silverfist.
It started when a young man named Talos Swiftwind, local ranger of the forests just outside Elvanmeir, met with a group of travelers. He intercepted the small band on their way through the woods...
"Who goes there?" Talos called from his spot in the woods. He had noticed the party of four adventurers the moment they stepped in the woods.
"We might ask the same thing of you, whoever you are." One of the members of the party called back. Talos could see that the voice belonged to the female in the party.
Talos then took the opportunity to step out onto the path. He was a tall man, of about six feet or so with light brown hair in contrast with his ice blue eyes. "I’m the local ranger of these parts, and you are in my territory. It’s my business to mark who passes through and also my duty to find out their intentions, good or bad."
The woman responded, "We are but simple travelers seeking to use the trails through the Elven woods to Sargath. We mean no harm to the forest or it’s people."
"Hmm...by the way you’re dressed and the assortment of weapons, I’d say you were on something more than a simple tromp through the woods to Sargath," Talos countered. The woman was in tight fitting breeches that left little to the imagination and a hunters tunic. She carried a dagger at her belt and he noticed another one hidden within her clothing. And he knew there were more where those came from. The men were adorned in steel chain mail and wore an arsenal of weaponry about their bodies. Except for one who dressed in plain robes and bore a quarterstaff.
"You have a sharp eye...what may I call you?" One of the men said. "You’re not Elven, yet you patrol these woods as if they were you’re home." Talos was having trouble holding in his anger at these strangers. "You can address me as Talos. And you still haven’t told me where you’re off to. I don’t appreciate being lied too."
"I can see we’re not getting anywhere here," the woman spoke up again. "If you must know, we’re headed for the Lost City."
Talos couldn’t help but bark out a loud, boisterous laugh, "Ha! You think a small band like yourselves will survive in the Lost City? The elves have been trying to reclaim the Lost City for centuries. What makes you think that the four of you will be able to make it there, let alone accomplish whatever insane task you have set yourselves to doing?"
"And who are you to tell us what we can and can’t do?" another one of the men spoke up, "Just step aside and we’ll be on our way!"
Talos couldn’t understand the stupidity these people were showing...well, at least the men. The woman seemed somewhat sane, if you could call this deathwish of going into the Lost City sane. "I’m a sort of Warden in these parts, if you must know my authority. And, since you don’t seem to be heeding my words, I will just have to lead you all to the closest city. This way..."
It was then that Talos heard it. But it was too late. "If you value your lives, follow me!" He ran through the forest, hoping he’d be able to lose the creature he knew to be following them. He risked a glance behind and saw that the group of adventurers were following them. When he looked forward again, he just about slammed right into the very thing they were running from. His ingrained ranger instincts allowed him to deftly roll to the side, and when he came to his feet, he saw something of immense terror. The creature before him was one he had only caught glimpses of when they flew over the forest overhead. Before him was a dreaded Fire Drake. The large creature had shiny red scales and smoke poured from its nostrils. It opened its jaws to reveal inch long razor-sharp teeth, that could slash whatever its prey was to ribbons.
Something puzzled him though. Normally, the Drakes didn’t get near humans, sticking to prey from the forests. He had heard of the occasional wizard taking one as a familiar, but this was unheard of. Something must have happened to this one.
The drake seemed to try to sense Talos’s intentions and when it seemed to determine that he was a threat, lunged at the ranger. He barely dodged the quick claws and strong jaws of the drake and made a counter, catching the wing of the drake. The creature howled in pain as it threw back its head. "Don’t just stand there, do something! If you’re going to survive the Lost City, you’re not going to do it by standing around!"
"Move from the beast!" the woman yelled. He could see that she was concentrating. She began chanting in the language of Magick, Talos could see. He had seen enchanters from among the elves do similar things before. And heeding her advice, Talos made a quick leap to the relative safety of the trees. Its was then he felt a chill all the way to his bones.
When the creature finally stopped thrashing, he dared to move towards it. When he got near, he could see that she seemed to have burnt a hole in it’s chest. But upon further examination, he could see that the wound was frozen. She must have hit it with an ice spell of some sort and killed it.
"I take it back," Talos said, "maybe you will be able to make it to the Lost City alive after all. I still doubt you’ll be able to survive in the city though." As he finished, he glanced in the womans direction, and saw that she had collapsed...