Fierce winds blew sheets of water cascading down upon the helpless party.  Talk began of trying to find somewhere to holdup until the storm passed, but the counting of four different howls from the woods before and behind ended any such talk.
At midday, they paused briefly to eat, only to find that the rain had entered their bags and ruined most of their food.  The bulk of their food stores had been breads, mostly dried biscuits and cakes with a long shelf life.  Once a heavy dose of water was added, the rugged morsels were reduced to soggy meal.
The party was in dire shape as night drew near.  Again, they left the road to try to find dry soil, but this night they were to be disappointed.  No matter how far they ventured from the edge of the forest, still they found naught but waterlogged land.  There would be no dry wood for a fire nor any dry ground on which to sleep.
The twins suggested seeking refuge in the trees, but Linvin was not convinced.  Doing so, he told them, would be the same as sacrificing the animals, and without their steeds, they were as good as dead.  He believed it would be best to return to the storm and hold out until morning.  The Trogoandras, he believed, would have no stomach to be in such a maelstrom.  The twins disagreed, saying only fire would keep them away.
“Enough of this bickering,” Anvar told them.  “All three of you, go find as much wood as you can and bring it here.  I will start the fire while you are gone.”
“But the wood is soaked, Uncle,” Bander pointed out.
Anvar was indignant.  “I do not care.  Do as I say!” 
Having no desire to argue with their uncle, Linvin and the twins left the campsite and began collecting branches.  As they returned with the first load of wood, they found Anvar making a fire pit.  They stopped and watched him for a moment.
Anvar turned to them and yelled through the rain, “Unless you want to be a Trogoandras’ dinner, I suggest you fetch far more wood than that.”
The boys and Linvin returned to their scrounging.  The next trip to camp saw Anvar piling damp wood in the pit.  The next two trips looked identical.  Upon returning on the following trip, a roaring bonfire blazed to nearly the point of burning the trees in the camp.  Linvin and the twins stood dumbfounded.
“How did you do that?” Rander asked.
“If I were you,” Anvar called over the roar of the fire, “I would be more concerned about finding enough wood to keep it going.”
Such a blaze required vast amounts of wood.   The wet logs created great clouds of smoke, which surely kept any predators at bay.  They ate what was left of their food and spent the night feeding the fire.  They found little sleep but heard no wolves that night.
Morning only provided more light and no reprieve from the storm.  Both dried on the outside and drenched underneath at the same time, the weary travelers led their horses and mules back to the road to resume their journey.
The wind and rain showed no mercy as the weakening party plowed forward.  They saw no choice but to continue.  With no food in their bellies, they needed to stay ahead of their hunters while their strength held.

It’s Halloween time again and I feel compelled to write my annual piece on the subject.  Let me first say that if you don’t want to participate in Halloween; that’s cool.  Just leave your porch lights off and don’t answer the door.  It’s a made up holiday anyway started as a method of keeping kids out of trouble at night.  If, however, you go trick or treating and don’t give out candy that is NOT COOL.  You either participate in the holiday or you don’t.  It’s not fair to only take and not give.  As for me, my fondest Halloween memories were trick or treating with my next older brother.  If you think I’m a planner, you haven’t seen anything.  My brother would take graph paper and draw a scale map of our neighborhood.  It was huge.  Then we would highlight the houses that gave the best candy last year.  We were big believers in “Past performance dictated future performance” when it came to these houses.  Then we would spend weeks plotting the most efficient route taking into consideration not passing the same side of the street twice, when parents got home from work and ending our loop where we started so we could work up to the end.  Next we selected costumes.  We learned quickly not to pick anything with accessories as these would weigh you down all night.  Then we would walk the route one day and it took hours but we could do it in the dark.  We always lost flashlights.  Glow sticks were still in the realm of light sabers to technology.  We used 50 pound onion sacks to carry the candy because they didn’t break and were easily thrown over the shoulder.  When the night arrived it seemed like our mother was punishing us for the candy we were going to eat by giving us fish sticks.  We hated fish sticks.  Our attack started at 5:30 hitting the apartments in our apartment/condo building.  We would hit the street about 6:30 and follow the route.  We ran from house to house.  Time was always working against us.  The subdivision was crawling with kids and we couldn’t allow ourselves to be slowed down by any of them.  We would finish one street.  Tick, tick, tick.  Then we’d do the next one over.  Tick, tick, tick. Soon it was 7:30, then 8:30.  When the clock on my glow in the dark watch struck 9:00 we went into priority mode.  We hit the subdivision where there were lots of teenagers at home just wanting to empty their bowls and be done with it.  We cleaned up there.  Then we hit the houses highlighted on the map on the way home.  Most of them gave out full sized candy bars or several small ones.  A 10:00 we were done and nearly home.  My older sister would make homemade pizza with a bread dough crust as we poured our sacks on the pool table.  Apples and popcorn balls went straight in the garbage.  Then we separated our candy into candy bars, caramels, suckers and other.  Our parents didn’t buy us treats as a rule so this was the score to last till Christmas.  Even though I rationed my candy, it never seemed to last.  Years later my brother told me he would take half my candy every year and I never caught on.  I had always wondered how I ate it so fast.  Now the truth is out.  These days kids do two streets with those little plastic pumpkins and are worn out.  I think they are so used to getting candy whenever they want it that Halloween is nothing special.  I admit we were fanatics about the holiday, but we learned a lot about planning and executing that plan.  We got more than candy out of the experience.

“My boy,” Anvar said with tears of joy. “It has been far too
long since we saw one another. I would offer you a pint of ale, but
that stubborn butler of yours refuses to tap a keg without your
permission.”
Linvin released his uncle and poured himself a cup of tea. “You
know better than to cross Theisen. This may be my home, but he
runs it his way. For right now, tea will suit me just fine.” Linvin
sat down in the rocker next to Anvar’s. The old elf returned to his
seat and pipe as a servant brought Linvin his own.
Once the servant had left, Linvin chided his uncle. “I say would
you be good enough to light this for me?”
Anvar looked humorously annoyed. “You do not need me to
light that, Boy.”
“Of course not,” Linvin agreed. “But it is more enjoyable to
watch you do it.”
Anvar squinted at his favorite nephew but could not help but
oblige him. He tapped his forefinger in midair and a small ray of
orange magic flew in a line directly to Linvin’s pipe and lit the
tobacco.
Linvin took a long drag and blew a smoke ring. Then he
dropped a lemon slice in his tea and took a sip. “Thank you for
that, Anvar. So tell me, what is new in Fraylic?”
Anvar relaxed and returned to his own pipe. “What can I say,
my boy? The money flows and the population grows. I imagine
business is good?”
“That would seem to be the case from the ledgers I have read. I
am auditing the main store and the company as a whole tomorrow
while meeting with the accountant and banker. After that, I have
an audience with the king and assembly to address some matters.”
Linvin stopped as if there was more to say but instead just drew on
his pipe and watched the sunset.
Anvar scrutinized him carefully. His jovial expression changed
just as his nephew’s had. Then he noticed the armor and sword.
“You have not worn arms since our return from our trek to the
north. What has happened?”
Linvin rubbed his face with his hand as he was prone to do
while searching for the right words. “I had another visitor the night
before leaving Missandor.”
Anvar’s face became solemn as he peered forward and spoke in
a low, monotone voice while rocking. “From your appearance
here, you are no worse for wear. Was it a male or female this
time?”
“Male.”
“Did you get a name?” asked Anvar.
“Five. That was all he would say. He made it all the way to my
bedroom.”
“That is the sixth assassin since our return,” Anvar noted. “Do
you have any idea whom we have to thank for all of the visitors?”
“I have many guesses,” Linvin answered. “Clearly, the same
party is behind them all. That party is well funded and obsessed
with killing me without stirring up trouble with Sartan. I know it
sounds insane, but this is just the line of thinking of Lord
Mandrean.”
“How can you say that?” queried Anvar. “We do not even know
who the new Lord Mandrean is or what he is like.”
“That, good uncle, is the insane part. It feels like the work
of Lord Mandrean the Thirteenth.”
“How could that be? You killed him in the valley. Maybe his
successor was like his father?”
“Perhaps,” Linvin said as he sipped his tea. “Something just
feels familiar about all this. I cannot shake this feeling that my old
nemesis haunts me still.” Both men were quiet for some time
before Theisen appeared in the doorway to announce that dinner
was served.

Autumn’s chill joined forces with the North Wind to create a bitter beast covering the land by night. With a timid entrance by the sun the beast retained its mastery of the air, surrendering only a frigid layer of dew upon the ground. Pewter clouds in elongated forms roamed the horizon and restrained the daylight. Unwilling to concede the sky so easily, the sun attempted to rise above the haze to gain dominance. Though valiant, the effort was barely noticed as the murky air continued to hold the land in captivity. Reluctantly, the sun continued across the sky and hoped for better fortune on the morrow.
In the great Palace of Marinhalk the bustle of everyday life was well under way. The activity was vibrant by midmorning in all but the north wing. It was as though day had not yet come to that area.
The north wing was the smallest and yet most isolated part of the palace. Standing far into the courtyard, only a long elevated corridor connected it to the rest of the capital building. Running at the height of the second floor, the enclosed passage was supported by a series of elaborate arches amidst a rose garden.
The interior of the span was the true masterpiece of the palace. Stained glass windowpanes adorned the walls along its entire length. They were separated into sections in which events had been depicted in the shaded glass. Each area illustrated a great event in the military history of the Mandrean Empire. Common characteristics were an emperor basking in the glory of victory with his followers gazing at him in adoration and slain enemies at his feet. The gore of battle had been omitted as the emperor was consistently portrayed in a heroic if not god-like fashion. White marble tiles seamlessly covered the floor in opulence. Slender columns separated the glass portraits. They supported a vaulted ceiling of amber glass. The designers had gone to great lengths to ensure the area was generously illuminated from dawn to dusk. It was the ultimate shrine to Mandrean greatness.
At the palace end of the hall were grand oak double-doors on polished brass hinges. To their side was a staircase spiraling down toward the lower parts of the palace. So discreet was the opening it blended with the columns nearby and nearly went unnoticed.
The unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs shattered the previously tranquil moment. A diminutive figure emerged from the stairwell with a sense of purpose. The person wore a turquoise hooded robe that covered the head and made the face only visible from the front. Even though the person was roughly the height of Necromancer, the figure clearly belonged to someone else. The attire too was of fine quality but not to the standard he had displayed.
Silently the robed person walked with a brisk pace down the center of the hall toward the North Wing. A majesty of colors descended from the stained glass to change the appearance of the robe and dance across the marble floor. Unimpressed, the figure continued to advance on the north end of the passage.
Clearly coming into view was another double door. This one was hand carved with scrollwork and artistry rarely seen. An Imperial Guard stood on either side at attention with a spear in their hand closest to the door. As the robed person approached, the sentries did not avert their eyes from their focus down the hall. They crossed their spears before the entrance to impede any further progress.

The elves quietly ate their broth.  It was little more than hot water with some roots thrown in for flavor, but at least it was quite hot.  Linvin urged them to eat quickly.
From across the room, came a robust laugh.  “Well, well, boys, look what crept into our bar!  A bunch of little elves.  I could use some entertainment.  Hey, elves!  You are known as minstrels and singers of songs.  Come put on a show for us.  I hear you’re real good entertainers.”  The other men laughed along and turned to the elves.
Rander was terrified, Bander was confused, Linvin was insulted but in control, and Anvar remained calm.  “Continue to eat,” Linvin said as though he were asking someone to pass the salt.  “Ignore them as you would a fly buzzing around.”
The man looked at the others with a shocked expression and then at the party.  “Didn’t you little imps hear me?  Dance!  Sing!  Spin on your heads!  We’re eager to see how entertaining you high and mighty elves are.  Come on now, have at it!”  The man and his friends were getting riled and left their seats.
Anvar spread out his fingers with his palm down.  Then he slowly lowered it to the table.  His nephews understood and continued eating quietly.  All the while, Linvin fumed.
“Hey!” the man who appeared to be the leader yelled, “I’m talking to you!  See, we don’t take kindly to your type stinking up our place.  Since you have trespassed in this good establishment, you will pay a fee.  So either you put on a show and then we throw you out, or we drag you out now by your squirrelly little ears.”
Only silence came from Linvin’s party.  They tried as best they could to ignore the man who fumed of hops.  Their lack of response angered him all the more.
The men slowly  started walking toward them.  “Ya lookin’ so pretty, ya’ must be a bunch of rich elves, huh?  What’s the matter?  You too good to dance for us?  Or maybe you just want your beating sooner?”  It was all Linvin could do not to act, yet he maintained his composure.  Anvar was making the call and he towed the line.
Anvar broke his silence at last.  “We are tired,” he said politely.  “We aren’t up for entertaining tonight.  We will be leaving just as soon as we finish our meal.  We do thank you anyway, gentlemen.”
The man slammed his hands down on the table by Anvar.  The act spilled the broth and nearly collapsed the table.  “Well,I wasn’t really askin,’ now,was I,old elf?  Now get up and dance before we spill more than your soup.”

Today I want to rant about the health care system.  I realize this is not a new topic, even for me. But a fire has been lit under me and I can’t let it go.  It’s bad enough that I am still paying for a procedure done on my daughter 2 years ago and I have almost a year to pay.  Now my dear daughter has tendinitis in both of her wrists and is in excruciating pain.  After the family doctor was of no help we were sent to a specialist.  He said he could give shots to relieve the pain but first we needed MRIs done on each one to find the exact spot where the injection was needed.  It seems like the medication should be less localized than that but then again, I’m still waiting for my MD in the mail.  Regardless, I needed to book the MRIs.  I received an estimate after demanding one from the place recommended by the doctor and they wanted over $1600 per wrist to take the images!  That includes the bit insurance would pay.  That’s outrageous.  At my day job they have this service that shops for the best rates on services before you use them.  Costs were all over the place.  They found one that was only $400.00 per wrist.  I’ll still be paying for a while but at least the number is more manageable.  What I want to know is, how can the same procedure in the same town cost 4x as much at the place recommended by the doctor?  Does he get a kickback?  What makes their equipment so special?  Obviously it does not have to cost that much.  The only rational reason I can think of is that the more expensive place has more overhead than the other.  As consumers, we are being taken advantage of by the healthcare field.  With their arbitrary charges and lack of competition they have made being sick only affordable for the very rich and the very poor.  If you are in the middle, you get the short end of the stick.  It is wrong and needs mending.  Heaven help me if I actually go into the hospital.  

“There were no other souls near his land save for he and his
four children. The one time he gave into temptation to use his
power for personal gain the creator took his wife from the world.
Thus, he lived a simple life and sought neither fame nor adulation.
He chose to protect his offspring from greed and the world around.
No harm could possibly come to them on his farm. He gave them
all that any father could give his children.
“As Gallatrium’s offspring grew in age, they also grew in
curiosity. Increasingly they yearned to see what the mysterious
world had to offer. Gallatrium warned them of the evils they would
find if they were to leave his house and forbade their departure. He
cautioned that leaving his house would mean he could no longer
protect and watch over them. The world was a cruel and deceptive
place for which they were not prepared.
“His stories only served to raise the children’s interest. The
outside being forbidden made it doubly intriguing. And so, one
night the four children of Gallatrium conspired to leave home in
four separate directions. They planned to walk until the sun rose
and then return to tell their father of their adventure.
“At the appointed time, they noticed that the night had taken on
a strong chill. They donned their cloaks but did not find them
warm enough for the unseasonably cold wind. One took his
father’s cloak for it was warmer than all others. Gallatrium wore it
every day and never felt cold beneath its surface. Jealousy and
envy overcame the other three children regarding the garment and
a fight ensued. When they were finished, their father’s cloak was
torn to shreds on the ground. The children blamed each other and
soon they neared blows. Vowing to never want to see the others
again, they set out on their separate paths. So great was their anger
at the others that they paid no heed to their path.
“When the sun reached the sky, they were in an unfamiliar
world of new things to see and do. By the time they thought of
returning home, they knew not which way to tread. They searched
in vain. Gallatrium’s farm was forever lost to them. Each
wandered aimlessly along in the wicked world. Nearing death,
they stopped searching and started homes of their own.
“When Gallatrium woke that morning after they left, he saw
that his children were gone. He had been hurt as no one could hurt
him. Falling to the floor he sobbed. His tears flowed onto the cloak
and brought out the handprints of his young ones.
“By picking up a piece one had touched, it enabled him to see
the child who had torn that piece of cloth. Though he could do
nothing to help any of them in the terrible times that came to pass
in their lives, he still had to watch as any parent would. To repair
his cloak was as impossible as repairing the relationship amongst
the children. And so he spent his days holding these rags and
watching his children in their successes and failures.
“Without his cloak, the cold north winds beat on him, and his
body aged. In time, he was a shadow of his former greatness, held
up in his desolate abode, with his only comfort being the sight of
his children and their families.”
Mordane had heard every word and was amazed at the story. “Is
it true?” he asked.
Necromancer nodded solemnly. “By the time Gallatrium died,
this one piece was all that remained, and he parted with it only in
his passing.”
“How do you know so much about this?” Mordane asked.
Necromancer smiled his devilish smile and answered, “It was I
that took it from him.”

The deeper into the gorge they traveled, the narrower it became. The path followed a mostly straight course but did have bends every so often. After a sharper bend than most, the party came to a halt. Around the bend was a large circular opening with walls all around. To the left a stand of pine trees had grown in the stunted climate. To the right was a colossal wall of loose stone from a rockslide blocking any further advance. To create such a wall it was clear an entire side of a nearby mountain had collapsed to form the insurmountable barrier. Its scale was so grand Linvin knew at his full strength, it would take him at least a month to blast the rock away.
Hearts sank throughout the group. “Well,” Anvar said. “Now we know what happened to the river. It was cut off by the rockslide.”
Linvin looked at the obstruction in wonder. “I am not so sure,” he said. “I hear no water nearby. If such a river had been diverted we would still be able to hear it even at this distance. I think the river went elsewhere a long time ago. Furthermore, the wall is far too new. This collapse happened within the last few years. You can tell by the distribution of the rocks.”
Linvin dismounted and started to look at the ground more closely. Moments later, he kicked away a layer of shale and found the remnants of a campfire. Then he moved to another spot and did the same thing. The results were similar. “This used to be a well-used pass into the mountains. Perhaps goblin raiders or traders passed this way. Then the path was sealed and the route abandoned.”
“That means there is a path behind that wall,” Rander said with excitement. “Use the Red Sapphire and blast an opening for us.”
Linvin looked at Anvar in dismay. His uncle returned the gaze. Then Linvin addressed Rander. “That means there was a pass here. It is likely gone from the massive rockslide. Regardless of that, you are talking about blasting apart a mountainside. Not even I have strength for that.”  
“Could you fly us each over the rocks?” Bander asked.
“No,” Linvin responded. “This barrier looks to be as thick as it is high. The distance would be too great if indeed a path still existed. My power would not be sufficient to make the trek. I am afraid this is a dead end.”
Rander was incensed. “So for all your power, you can’t help us when we need it most?”
Linvin was frustrated as well and let it show in response. “I cannot move a mountain. To try to blast though it would bring all this rock down upon us and still not clear the way. Staff of no staff I cannot overcome this obstruction. We must find another way. Now shut your mouth before I administer the beating on you this time.”
Anvar interjected. “Perhaps we should rest for the night. We have some cover and none us have slept for two days. Clearer minds will prevail in the morning. Come. Help me clear a spot to camp. Some rocks are over there that I can superheat to give us warmth without revealing our position.”

Well, it’s that time again.  I finished the rough draft of my latest book, “Repercussions Abound.”  I sat back for a few days and took my ceremonial victory lap.  Now comes the beginning of the dreaded part of writing…editing.  Imagine your manuscript as a human body you’ve created.  You are a surgeon about to cut it open in an exploratory fashion to look for flaws.  You cause pain but not too much as most of the body looks good.  Then you turn the body over to your beta reader and they cut deeper.  This, in turn, causes more pain.  They find flaws you missed and others you didn’t think were a problem.  But this was simply armature hour.  The expert surgeon called The Editor comes in with a cleaving knife and starts to hack at the body.  His cuts go deep into the body and go so far as to want to remove vital organs.  Now the fight begins.  The body belongs to you.  Many things the Editor is right about but some are being done just to put their stamp on the body.  It is up to you to decide where to give in and where to stand your ground.  It is a painful time to watch the body be dissected in such a gruesome manner.  You think of the months you spent planning the body and the many more months spent creating it.  It is a tough and agonizing call in which you are not always right…but neither is the Editor.  So that’s what I will spend my free time doing for the next while.  I’m doing my own edits now and soon will have my beta reader go through it.  For now the pain is minimal.  

Anvar smiled and gestured to his sofa. “There is nothing to
forgive. How you keep your sanity with the people of this city, I
will never understand. Let me take your cape while you have a
seat.” As Linvin removed his cape, it exposed only clothing on his
back.
“Linvin, the staff is not on your back or in your hand. Where is
the Red Sapphire?”
“I didn’t want the added attention the stone brings, so I left it at
home today,” Linvin said as he sat.
“How many times have I told you never to leave its presence? It
is your responsibility to keep it with you at all times. What if an
emergency arose and you needed it? You would be in trouble.”
“Well, I still have the magic I have stored.”
“That’s not good enough,” Anvar ranted. “You and the Red
Sapphire are one. You should always carry it with you.”
“My apologies.”
“Apologize to the staff, my boy. It will be quite indignant about
you leaving it behind. Speaking of that, you also left your armor
and Falconfeather at home. After all the assassination attempts,
how can you go about so unprepared?”
“I have nothing to fear here in Fraylic,” Linvin noted as he sat
rigidly.
“Your mother thought that as well, and you remember what
became of her. You need to take greater care, my boy.”
Anvar went to the kitchen and used his magic to superheat
water in his teapot. Then he added the tea and let it brew. He cut
the bread and placed it with the honey on the serving tray. Then he
carried the tray to the table in front of the sofa.
“By the way,” Anvar inquired, “when did we become so
formal? You have not referred to me as ‘Uncle Anvar’ in private
since you were a child.”
Linvin fidgeted for a moment before speaking. “Just trying to
give you the respect you deserve, Anvar.”
“Well, don’t. I feel old enough as it is without being constantly
reminded of my age. Come, have some tea with me. You must be
tired after your trip and the audit. Would you like some lemon in
your cup?”
“No, thank you, Anvar, lemon is too bitter for my taste.”
Anvar paused a moment and then said, “Silly me for forgetting.
Just like last night when you told me you no longer enjoyed bread
dipped in honey.”
“Exactly,” Linvin said. “Tastes change.”
Anvar poured the tea and spoke in an untrusting voice. “I will
check on dinner. Enjoy this while I am away.”
As Linvin sipped, he looked about once again. “You’ve really
done a first rate job fixing your home after the mess the assassins
made a couple of years ago. It looks like it was never touched.”
Anvar had reached the kitchen and began to pull down all his
cutting and butchering knives from where they hung. He lined
them on the cutting board. “It was so good of you to help me
straighten after we returned from our trip. Your help was
invaluable.”
“Thanks,” Linvin responded as he sat his cup on the tray.
“Speaking of what we went through back then and the
assassination attempts, I have reconsidered some things. For one, I
don’t believe the staff for the Blue Sapphire is safe with you
anymore. With my power, I can keep it secure far better.”