The Breath of Hellspur: The Hero's Tale

By Michael C. Bosco Jr. and David B. Keith

Korbin Castlebane is a young mage who must live up to high expectations. After all, his uncle, Kendle, and The Heroes of Rothan are famous for their many brave deeds.

When Korbin learns from his teacher about a magical artifact called The Breath of Hellspur, he is instantly enthralled. He believes that if he finds the sacred relic, he will finally live up to his family name.

So, the mage teams up with a band of young adventurers on a quest to find the artifact. But when he runs into trouble, his famous uncle and his band of semi-retired heroes must come to his aid, not knowing the persuasive influence that the dark wizard Grazalon has had upon the decision to begin the journey. The wizard will call upon all of his powers to make sure that the Heroes of Rothan are crushed. They shall do no more good deeds.

Join Korbin, his uncle and a band of heroes as they pursue adventure and seek to vanquish the forces of darkness in The Breath of Hellspur.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 13, 2008
• ISBN: 9780595919093

Michael C. Bosco Jr.

Michael C. Bosco Jr. graduated with a bachelor?s degree in education from the Indiana University of Pennsylvania and a master?s degree in education from the University of Pittsburgh. A high school teacher, he lives and works in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and is happily married with three children.

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Copyright © 2008 by Michael C. Bosco Jr.

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Contents

PRELUDE

The Bell Tolls for Thee

Digtown

The Auction

Oakpoint

As The Road Turns

A Duke is Born

The mourning after

What mine … is ours?

Homelands

The Miner’s Gem

Slay No More

The Halflingwood

All Too Easy …

Eastridge

The Docks

The Quest

When It Comes Calling …

The Hero’s Tale

Vigor’s Call

Home Coming

Preparations

Illusions

Securing Passage

Acuity Hall

Keepers of the Dragon

Sailing

Suspicions

Getting Back On Track

The Show Mustn’t Go On

Uncommon Allies

The Maneuver

The Scene Of The Crime

Portshold

The New Professor

The Marketer

All That Glitters …

Reunions

Eyes and Ears

Meals On Wheels

Good News Travels Fast

The Cornellian In Portshold

Incubation

The Spell

Six Dwarves

Terror From Above

Clanging Of A Grumbling Dwarf

Some News

Where It All Ended … Or Began?

Offspring

Enter The Dragon

PRELUDE

The great beast let out a deep and sinister growl as it whipped its tail around just missing the agile elf. Kendle Castlebane rolled under the strike stabbing his enchanted blade into the dragon’s thick hide. Hellspur kicked its hind leg catching the attacker about the shoulder knocking him back to the cavern wall. Ezrin spun his ax around striking with its pointed end. The weapon penetrated the area between two of the beasts scales drawing a glance from the massive red dragon. RonJon stepped up scoring a blow. The king of the dragons winced noticing the attack more than any other thus far in the battle. The sword screamed for the beast’s blood as it sunk to the hilt penetrating Hellspur’s nearly impregnable hide. It roared rearing its head up.

Shardra and Brêson knew what was coming but waited for the beast to spew forth its foul magma breath. Aroch hacked into its foreleg striking a blow that would have leveled a giant, but Hellspur took the blast and returned one of its own. The creature opened its maw displaying all of the razor sharp fangs. Its cheeks and throat glowed a fiery orange releasing a blast of stench and brimstone across the front of the cavern. Shardra, Brêson, Pawldo and Rannabell all dove clear of the blast. The two dwarves Vigor and Galdar raised their shields, praying their dwarven-made equipment would withstand the intense heat. Gortez The Dark Slayer slashed at the great beast scoring a hit near the dragon’s vitals. Hellspur’s talon caught the great Margon warrior sending him across the cavern.

Aroch placed his weapon on his back and leaped up on Hellspur’s hind leg. The dragon kicked wildly, but the barbarian’s massive strength held him. Ezrin struck again chipping at the spot where his last blow had fallen. The king of the dragons eyed the blonde-haired elf. RonJon scored another strike and Hellspur snapped its dripping maw down on the sandy haired sailor, but RonJon rolled bringing his blade up, drawing a line across the beast’s massive jaw. It roared incredulously, What is this weapon!

RonJon smiled. It is your doom! The sailor replied burying his sword to the hilt in the dragon’s side.

Not before I eat all of your friends! Hellspur bellowed rearing its head up again. Aroch was now on the back of the creature making his way toward its head. It paid little attention to the barbarian.

Shardra, Brêson, Pawldo and Rannabell recovered, but dove again to avoid another of the fiery blasts. Gortez shook his head and again launched a barrage of slashes with the Death Bringer, his prized sword. The black blade bit hard into the beasts vitals, nicking a piece of scale off. Vermin The Beheader followed his brother’s lead striking in the same location with his great ax. Hellspur growled in defiance swatting Vermin catching him full sending his bulk crashing against the cavern wall.

Vigor and Galdar charged the great beast following RonJon’s hand signal. As the dragon’s neck came back down, the dwarven duo cracked their blades into the returning creature.

Kendle was bleeding from the gaping wound on his shoulder. The dragon’s talon cut clean through his chain armor nearly exposing the elf’s shoulder joint. Ezrin pulled his friend from the wall. The adrenaline pumped through his body and he charged in for another strike with his magical sword.

Brêson reached into his cloak producing a crooked white wand. Rannabell was at his side. Good luck with that. He stated running across the cavern flanking the great beast. Shardra Wolfsbane was casting, the battle mage threw a couple of gems she pulled from a pouch on her belt into the air. The gems circled the mage several times gaining speeds, then they were off toward Hellspur.

Aroch grabbed hold of a spike protruding from the dragons head. RonJon looked up. What the hell? Aroch wait! The sailor whistled. Brêson looked his way then up to the barbarian. RonJon pointed to his sword.

Oh my, dat is devious indeed. Brêson’s arms were manipulating a spell already in his mind. Hellspur swatted its clawed hand catching Galdar about the shield. Vigor watched as his kinsman flew past him landing in a heap thirty feet away. The dwarf growled slashing at the returning extremity scoring a hit or two.

Shardra’s gems landed on the neck of the massive creature, spinning into the beast drilling holes into the hard armored covering. Gortez scored another blast with his sword flaking off another scale revealing the soft tissue bellow. Hellspur turned its head around inhaling.

Brêson finished his mantra pointing his outstretched palms aimed at the barbarian rider. Aroch let go his grip, his legs squeezing firm as he road the turning head.

Aroch! RonJon yelled throwing his prized sword, the reptile slayer, toward the perched fighter. Hellspur let out another blast, this time aimed at the great Margon warrior. Gortez reacted diving behind the hind leg of the dragon, shielding himself from the furnace flames.

Aroch caught the spinning sword in his palms. Hellspur could hear the magical blade calling for its death. It raised its head, smashing it into the cavern ceiling. Aroch laid flat letting the spikes on the reptiles head take most of the damage. He recovered, held the sword with two hands and with all the strength he had in his body aided by Brêson, he plunged it into Hellspur’s skull. The monster roared a gurgling screech blowing flames into the cavern ceiling. The barbarian pulled the blade free then plunged it back again lying on the blade with the full weight of his body. The dragon’s neck twisted trying to shake its attacker free. He repeated the action and the great beast crashed to the floor with Aroch riding the head all the way down thrusting strike after strike into the exposed brain matter. The force from the head knocked everyone to the ground. Brêson’s wand clicked across the floor. In its last attempt the king of the dragons, Hellspur, blew its last blast of molten brimstone breath. The wand was the only object in its path taking the full last gasp. It glowed orange and should have incinerated under the intense heat, but it kept its form. As its breath let out, Hellspur’s eyes closed, and the great worm was dead.

To the group of young men who spent their youth adventuring through the characters they created. You know who you are. Your imaginations inspired this adventure and I thank you all.

To Dave whose friendship I truly value.

To Lindsay, Lauren and Hannah, who have given more joy than I could have ever imagined. I see God’s grace every day through each of you.

To Melissa whose love I all too often take for granted, you are amazing.

To the group of young men who spent their youth adventuring through the characters they created. You know who you are. Your imaginations inspired this adventure and I thank you all.

To Dave whose friendship I truly value.

To Lindsay, Lauren and Hannah, who have given more joy than I could have ever imagined. I see God’s grace every day through each of you.

To Melissa whose love I all too often take for granted, you are amazing.

Grazalon stood from his throne and brushed off his lavish robe. One scantily-clad female concubine was eager to attend to the garment as another offered the dark necromancer a carafe of wine. He took a long draw and glanced back. The throne was the talon belonging to Hellspur, the long-dead once magnificent king of the dragons. The dark elf reminisced about his days as a keeper of the beast, back when he made his conversion to the dark arts. He pushed past the two servants handing the half-filled container back to the closest one. He shoed them away with a wave of his hand and strode over to a mirror standing across the massive bedroom. Admiring the reflection, he began to speak. At first, his voice was steady and calm then with a crescendo, it changed, replaced by one unworldly and demonic. He beckoned the mirror to change. His reflection turned to a gray, whirling swirling mist. The pungent odor of sulfur and burning flesh filled the area chasing the concubines into hiding. He continued his mantra and the swirls vanished revealing a fiery pit where winged beasts were flying about. Flames engulfed the mirrors frame. The largest demon took notice and beat its bat like wings bringing it close to the opened portal. I’m loosing patience with you Grazalon! The demon lord growled.

The dark elf mage motioned, and a massive half giant pulled a dark skin turban-wearing man over to the waiting wizard. It is time my friend. It is time for our plans to finally come to fruition. Stand him up! The man’s legs dangled, held up in the fist of the one-eye patch wearing half giant. Ogral! Bring him closer! Grazalon bade. The groggy man’s eyes fluttered, his mouth moved, but he was unable to speak. The half giant forced the man in front of the dimensional portal onto an ornately carved circular symbol.

He will do. Make it so! The demon lord bellowed. Grazalon’s hands were already at work making the intricate incantations for the spell, which would bring the demon to the realm of the living. The man floated above the symbol. Ogral let his grip loose and stepped back as a beam of fiery light enveloped the captive. Grazalon’s voice fluctuated with each wave of his hand and the body shook seemingly beyond its capacity. Ogral winced at the sight thinking the man would be torn apart. With one last lashing arch, the body stiffened then fell to the floor in a heap. The enflamed mirror was dowsed and the beam of fiery light ceased. The portal to the demonic world closed and the mirror once again reflected the smiling necromancer. Help him up! Grazalon commanded and the half giant pulled the prone man to his feet. His head rolled about then cracked to the left then the right before straightening. Grazalon and Ogral were greeted by a face full of teeth and eyes a blaze with the fire. Fazzri Sarr. Grazalon spoke calmly.

It is I. The demonic speech emanated from the possessed man.

Indeed, I chose this human for you because it is essential to our plans. In this form you will be able to travel without suspicion and set into place the events that will lead to the demise of the Heroes of Rothan.

Fazzri Sarr altered his voice to that of his host body, Dat is not why I ave agreed to dis.

Grazalon raised an eyebrow, That is why I summoned you. The ax of the mountain king and your freedom will only be yours if you follow my plans. We both share the same goals.

Fazzri Sarr nodded, Agreed. Grazalon handed the demon incarnate a pouch full of small vials.

This is to keep that body from decaying. If you forget to take these, the host will die and you will be sent back to your world. We both do not want that. It will take another decade before I could bring you back.

Fazzri Sarr accepted the item and tied it to his belt, What is this thing’s name?

Grazalon replied, Ithobar Oasis, and the first order of business for me will be to travel back to Alhaz. The dark mage produced a vile, pulled the cork and downed the liquid. His face contorted, his skin became pale and his features reflected that of a youthful surface elf. I’ve been busy with Kendle Castlebane’s nephew. Gaining his friendship was easy. Getting him to quest after the wand has been a bit of a challenge, but there is an opportunity coming that will surely push the fool over the edge. The necromancer’s voice crackled as it too changed to one more appropriate for his appearance.

Fazzri Sarr pulled on his robe, Dis be too tight. Humans be too small for me!

Grazalon shook his head, It will do until the time is right and you will be set free from your eternity in the abyss. Come, we must go. You have to take these to the auction. The dark wizard pointed to the six hovering cloaked beings across the room. RonJon will be there, he has been combing every obscure port looking for these and he shall have them! Grazalon cackled. You see my fine demonic lord, everything will be in place. The wand and the ax will be ours and then we will have our revenge. Let us go! Fazzri Sarr followed Grazalon and the two disappeared into a room behind his throne.

The Bell Tolls for Thee

The scorching orb showed bright in the afternoon southern skies over the University of Alhaz. Korbin sat dressed in his ornately decorated silk robes along with several of his fellow classmates enjoying the shade of the grove of palm trees that made up the oasis in the middle of the bustling school’s central courtyard.

Let me go next, one eager student said trickling a handful of sand through his long fingers.

Another young student dressed in a similar manner interrupted, No wait, I have a container. Drop it in there or else you’ll make our favorite spot all muddy!

Now, speak the words, another student cried.

Speak them evenly and with authority. Korbin instructed. And your spell will come to life like Brêson instructed.

The sand-wielding student spoke the mantra, Sand flow through, sand descend, sand will make the life spring flow again! He let the sand fall through his fingers. The granules became droplets of water slowly filling the jug.

Excellent. You have been practicing; I suspect a perfect score on the mid-term for you! Korbin was visibly excited. He picked up the jug and took a large gulp. Aahhh! And it is cold to boot! You’ve tweaked the spell and have made it your own!

A round of applause erupted and Korbin patted the younger man on the shoulder.

Korbin, tell us another story of your uncle and the Heroes of Rothan!

A frown appeared on the older student’s face. I don’t think we have time.

A blonde haired elf leaned against one of the bending palms, Yeh, another heroic tale of your uncle Kendle. The tone was condescending.

The look Korbin shot at Jorreld brought a smirk to the elf’s face.

Oh I know the one about Vigor and the trolls, that’s my favorite! The student who performed the spell spoke up. Korbin raised his hands in protest.

Bong, Bong, sounded the bell from the university’s central tower, and each of the spectators stood as if commanded to.

Now each one of you practice that spell and perform it exactly the way Fedril has, and you will have no problem on Professor Brêson’s mid-term, Korbin instructed.

The students quickly gathered their things, rushed to their next class, but verbally thanked the young tutor for taking the time to help them study.

You really know the professor’s expectations Korbin, the young elf leaning against the palm said as Korbin gathered his things.

Well, you would too if you had as many of his classes as I have, Jorreld, Korbin replied placing his backpack on each of his shoulders. Come on, we don’t want to be late for his magic items class, he always introduces the best ones first. With his last shoulder through the loop, he turned toward the auditorium.

I wonder what interesting items he will present this day. Jorreld rushed to catch the fleeing white haired mage. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the best stuff. This may be your chance to ask him about the wand. The two rushed across campus.

Korbin slowed to allow his friend to catch up, I don’t know Jorreld, and you know what happened last time I tried to get him to talk about it. They both began to sprint.

That wasn’t the right time. He will have to address it. It’s a magic items class. the younger elf finished with a wink.

Korbin opened the door to the hall and the two sped inside. You may have a point.

The bell sounded again and the two walked through the threshold. A nudder minute and you two would ave missed my lecture. Brêson trotted through the door, placed his hand on their shoulders, walked with the two young elves and took his place behind the large table that took up the majority of the small auditorium’s front stage area.

The Archmage placed his small bag on the table and faced the room full of eagerly-waiting pupils. First, I want to welcome all of you to one of da most popular classes offered at dis most prestigious university: magic and enchanted items. Dis is an introductory class dat will show you a number of interesting artifacts dat I ave in my own personal collection as well as introduce you to some that are supposedly scattered throughout Rothan. The colorful turban-wearing man pulled the bag in front of him, opening it slightly. He smiled as the audience leaned forward in their uncomfortable seats to get a better vantage point.

Now can anyone tell me what this item I ave here is? the smiling professor asked. A scattering of hands rose throughout the crowd. Brêson pointed to Korbin who was shaking his hand wildly. Ok, Korbin. What is your answer?

The young mage lowered his arm. That is a dimensional bag.

Brêson loosened the item’s drawstring and opened it wide. Dat is correct, and can anyone explain to me why dis small item is a most useful trinket to ave in your possession and what some of its limitations are? Again a scattering of hands rose.

A brown-skinned young woman with straight brown hair raised her slender arm and the loosely fitting tunic she wore slid down past her shoulder giving two young men sitting adjacent to her an eyeful of the girl’s beautiful features. The two elbowed each other and snickered.

Oh yes Alijha, you ave de answer. Brêson pointed to the girl quickly to save her from any embarrassment.

Yes, professor, a dimensional bag is a very useful item indeed, but it does have some limitations, the young student responded, lowered her arm, and eyed the young men suspiciously then continued. The bag is like a gate to another dimension; you can place many items inside it without the bag gaining any weight or size. It does have a limit to its capacity, but no one really knows what that limit is, the young girl concluded, straightened her shirt, and eyed the two boys again. They blushed, straightened, and turned their attention back to the front.

Dat is most precise Alijha, dere is a limit on its abilities. As long as each one of you remembers dat you will be able to use one successfully. Now can anyone give me some examples of ordinary everyday items that could possibly be enchanted and thus become a magic item? Brêson grinned as a wave of hands rose across the room. Yes, da young man in da blue dare. Brêson pointed the young man out.

Rings. Sir? He responded more as a question than an answer.

Yes, dat is an item we wear, and it can be enchanted. For example- The professor reached his hand into the bag and produced a silver ordinary-looking ring. Brêson held the item in his fingers and walked about the front of the class giving the students in the first few rows the best look. Seems pretty ordinary doesn’t it? Well, let’s try it on and find out. The wizard placed the ring on his finger and instantly disappeared. Everyone in class looked about the room trying to see where their teacher had gone.

He’ll be back, Korbin whispered to Jorreld who was looking for the missing professor as well.

Then, as fast as the man disappeared, he reappeared, not in the same spot in which he vanished, but in the doorway at the very top of the auditorium. See, I told you. Korbin affirmed. Brêson began to walk down the side steps, his long robe following behind. He lifted a mug he now held in his hand and took a long swig.

Sorry, but I forgot my tea back on my table, and I was becoming quite thirsty, he stated plainly and returned to his original starting place in front of the large group. Just an ordinary looking ring with a power to take you where you think … nothing ordinary about that now is there? Brêson presented the silver ring again then tossed it back into the bag.

Now can anyone else think of an item we use that could be enchanted? The tall educator surveyed his attentive pupils again. Yes, Gildon, you have an item in mind?

Another male student lowered his hand. Staves … professor Brêson? Brêson again reached into the dimensional bag and pulled out a long and crooked staff.

Can anyone venture a guess as to the nature of dis staff’s power? The question drew shrugs, whispers and conversations that the Professor entertained for a few moments.

Korbin made a few gestures then raised his hand.

Korbin … you ave ventured a guess?

I have professor … that particular staff has the ability to aid the wielder by adding to the person’s ability to hit an object and inflict damage … it is a staff of striking.

Brêson nodded in agreement. And can you tell the class exactly how you came about that conclusion?

I used a spell that I know that aids me in identifying magical items. It is a variation of a basic reveal magic spell, but it also draws from my memory and identifies the item if I have seen or read about it in the past, Korbin explained.

I am impressed, and you are correct in your answer. Delving into the mind magics now my young elf or has Master Pawldo been tutoring you on your breaks? Brêson questioned.

Both. I have an interest in magic items and find the mind magic’s quite useful, Korbin replied.

The elder mage replaced the staff, reached his hand back into the bag, and pulled out a fist-size quartz crystal. Now, to make dis class more personal, I would like to take requests from you about some items dat you may have heard of and want to find some more information about. I will record your requests with this device and will consider each one for future discussions. Does anyone have any requests? The professor scanned the audience. Only four hands went up. Jorreld nudged Korbin, and the young mage looked his way.

Now is your chance. He would not dare turn you down in front of everyone. Go on ask him, the young elf whispered. Korbin reluctantly raised his hand.

Yes Korbin, you ave an item of interest? Brêson brought his gaze to the young elf.

Ah, ah I do professor; it is a wand, Korbin answered apprehensively.

Brêson used the large table to lean against. Oh yes … wands are a mage’s best friend, or at least dat is the stereotype that is out there isn’t it? A wizard is not a wizard without his trusty wand to wield. Hmmm! Brêson placed his wrinkled index finger to his lips.

Korbin straightened and sneered at Jorreld for putting him in the spotlight. Let me guess my young wizard. Are you thinking about a wand of lightening, a wand of fireballs perhaps, or the infamous wand of frost? Brêson continued highlighting each one with a greater crescendo in his voice.

Korbin lowered his head a little and then looked up at his mentor. I was thinking something even more powerful than that. Brêson eyed him curiously. Korbin sat back and straightened. The Breath of Hellspur. He said with some mustered confidence. His classmates quickly gasped and began to mutter among themselves at the mention of the infamous red dragon.

Brêson waved his hand high above his head to quiet down the class. He waited until the last whisper was gone—a period that did not sit well with the young sand mage.

The Breath of Hellspur is a powerful artifact indeed … a relic that is veiled in mystery because it hasn’t ever been wielded. I know, because it was created from my actions and it was my wand of frost, my young mage, which helped forge the fairly-new magic item. Brêson paced. Students were sitting at the edge of their seats. I will tell you that the artifact you speak of is well hidden and secure. It is a cursed item, and all of its abilities are not even known to me. It took three of us to place the item where it now rests, and that is all I can tell you or will ever tell you about that item, Brêson concluded, and the bell tower rang. We will continue with the requests next class, so think about some items or research some in the library. His voice became louder as the students began to leave. Everyone should ave one prepared!

Most of the students filed through whatever exit they could, but Korbin sat still and waited for everyone to leave. Brêson gathered his bag and began tying it to his belt.

Korbin. Always the last to leave, he spoke when he realized the young elf was waiting for him.

Master Brêson, I am really intrigued by the relic and would appreciate it if you would discuss the item with me back in your lab, Korbin asked.

Korbin Castlebane.

Hearing his last name mentioned was never a good sign for the young elf.

We have been over this and over this. I am not going to discuss dat particular relic here or anywhere for that matter. Get dat through dat intelligent, but one-tracked mind of yours. If you put as much energy into your studies as you ave dis obsession, you would be years ahead of where you are now. Forget about the wand Korbin.

Then spend some time with me and tell me the whole story, please, Korbin pleaded.

Why don’t you ask your uncle on your next visit back to Longbay? Kendle will be glad to tell the tale again. I ave many pressing matters that I need to attend to and you would be best to move on to your next class. The look of disappointment on the elf’s face was more than the mentor could take. He stopped and turned to address the visibly depressed elf. Oh alright. If you want to know more about the Breath of Hellspur, then you should travel to Acuity Hall. Pawldo has written extensively about the item. Stop by the lab later today and we will discuss this matter further. Now come along. There are some freshmen dat need some tutoring, and you’re the best pupil I know.

Korbin quickly grabbed his backpack and followed the Archmage out of the building and into the searing sun.

Jorreld hopped off the railing as the two passed by. Brêson eyed the young elf briefly as he continued his hurried pace. Master Brêson, the students?

The towering mage stopped in his tracks realizing he was being followed. Oh yes, I believe I left them over in the grove. He started moving again hurriedly toward his office.

Master, I tutored them before class. They are probably off to the cafeteria. It is almost lunchtime.

Brêson stopped again and gazed at the sky, the midday sun was just past its peak. Oh well den you two should be ‘eaded dere as well you can’t just feed da mind ya know! Brêson was moving again. The two had gotten the hint and stopped their pursuit.

That didn’t go so bad, Jorreld began. Korbin shot his friend the same look he had in the lecture. What? I was right; we now know more about the relic than we had before.

Korbin shook his head. I know that if I want to do anything with my life I have to leave here.

Jorreld’s expression changed, Now? But you’re almost done.

Korbin turned toward the cafeteria, You’re the one who has been pushing me to find out about the relic, right? Jorreld shook his head in agreement. Now, I know where to begin to look: Acuity Hall, Korbin explained as the two began walking.

But that’s a long way away from here. Would you go alone?

Korbin placed a hand on the shorter elf’s shoulder. Why don’t you come with me? You’ve come far in your studies here, and I could use the company.

Jorreld lowered his head. My father would kill me. He had to pull a lot of strings to get me in here. I guess it didn’t hurt having an uncle who is friends with the once High Master of Portshold.

The comment felt like a knife to Korbin. Look, I can’t help having a famous uncle; it’s more of a curse than anything else.

Jorreld stopped. I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave here. I’ll never get this opportunity again. I have no choice, but you do.

Korbin then realized the truth of his friend’s statement. I do, and I do have a choice. Jorreld, my destiny lies elsewhere. I can feel it.

Jorreld looked up. Then what are you waiting for? Go. You’re ready.

Korbin extended his hand and the two shook. Thanks, for everything. If it hadn’t been for you-

Jorreld held up his hand. Just go. As Korbin sped off Jorreld’s smile widened even more. He whispered, Yes go, finally, you’re the one who makes it all happen. He finished the statement with a laugh that did not seem to fit that of a young surface elf.

*****

Korbin turned the rune-encrusted knob, opening the private office of his mentor, the once-High Master of Portshold. The young mage slowly pushed the door enough for his slender body to slide through. The light from outside should have made the room unbearably warm, but the penetrating beams were dissipated by a spell the Archmage used to keep the office several degrees cooler. Korbin could feel the difference upon entering and quietly closed the door behind him.

The room was large, but hardly kept organized. Korbin had cleaned up the space many, many times, but the arch mage always found a way to get it back to the way he liked it. The young elf found the grayed haired man with his face buried deep in a huge tome, his fingers quickly tracing their way through the intricate written text. Brêson grumbled and mumbled, turned pages with a grunt and brushed his hair back to clear the way for his roaming eyes. Korbin slowly paced his way past the heaps of fallen texts finally stopping a few steps away from the man. Finding some new questions for this semester’s final? the young apprentice questioned, announcing his presence.

Huh? Oh! That was my mist … Brêson visibly snapped from his concentrated state, jumped and spun around on the stool looking more like a pot atop a potter’s wheel than a powerful wizard. My boy, you keep doing that you’ll be teaching my schedule for the next century. Don’t you ever knock? Brêson turned himself back around and pulled a small blanket over the huge tome.

I’m sorry Master Brêson, I didn’t want to disrupt your concentration, I finished with the study sessions and-

Brêson quickly interrupted. And you came all da way over ere to tell me dat … not good timing my young mage!

Korbin realized he was irritated and lowered his head. Sorry high master, no disrespect intended. The Archmage towered above the elf. Korbin was far from short, a trait that had run through the Castlebane family genes for centuries, but the once-High Master was closer to six and a half feet. Peering down on the young man, he looked more like an enormous bat with his robes hanging off his elbows, an effect that amplified his stature. Korbin looked up at the wizard.

This disruption had better have several good reasons, the towering form announced.

Korbin replied, I have one reason … after this semester I will be leaving for Longbay.

Brêson’s arms lowered and his expression lightened. Very good! Your uncle will be most pleased to see you indeed!

Korbin continued, And I will not be returning for my last semester.

Breson raised an eyebrow. Your uncle will not be pleased to hear dat. Why will the young mage choose not to return to his studies?

Korbin stood taller, I have one more semester until graduation. Time that I feel will be wasted on tutoring freshmen and breezing through a couple electives. I feel it is time for me to go.

Brêson sat down on his heavily padded stool. Your class load will not be difficult, but that is hardly a reason to quit what you have started, especially since you are so close to completing. A course of study such as this would open many doors for you, Korbin. Perhaps even a High Master position in Queltis or Longbay for that matter.

Korbin shook his head. That is not what I want. Staying in a tower and answering to the whims of a spoiled or power hungry Duke or King? No offense Master Brêson, but I want something a little more heroic than that!

Brêson placed his hands on his knees. And what might dat be young mage?

I want to make a name for myself. I want to travel the world in search of adventure and a chance to use the skills I’ve learned here in the real world.

I believe your real struggle is dat you feel you ave to live up to de accomplishments of your uncle. Has it been dat bad, growing up with a famous uncle? A lot of people would trade dere lives for a chance to walk in your shoes, Korbin, the dark skinned wizard proclaimed.

Korbin raised his voice, This is the problem. Everyone wants me to accept this life that is given to me. The life I want is a life I make for myself. I’m not interested in fulfilling what others expect me to do. I’ve been doing that all of my life!

Brêson was standing again. I didn’t say I disagreed with your choice Korbin. I ave always allowed you to explore your potential. I never expected you to follow any plan but your own. I completely understand, but you ave bitterness about your lineage, a bitterness dat I can’t figure out. If you want to adventure, then I say do it, but don’t hate who you are or the cards you’ve been dealt in this world.

Korbin interjected, That is just it. I want to deal the cards, choose things for myself, and as long as Uncle Kendle has his hands in everything I do, I’ll never be able to. You and the others never had such a presence in your lives.

Brêson sat back down. Oh Korbin, any one of us would ave given anything to ave the opportunities you’ve been given.

I have been given or forced? All I am asking for is a level playing field. As long as Kendle influences my life, anyone who meets me will always say I got where I am because of him, Korbin explained.

Brêson grabbed a bag that Korbin easily recognized from the classroom. The tall wizard reached into the bag and pulled from it a staff and a bone shaped ring. He turned toward the young elf. A mage on the road must ave a few tings dat will aid him on his journey. Brêson extended the staff and Korbin accepted the gift. You know the staff’s power. You will not be able to cast spells to defend yourself all of da time, so dis will help you. Plus you wouldn’t look like a mage without one … right?

Korbin smiled and a chuckle escaped from his lips. I will wield it with pride and think of you when I do.

Brêson nodded. And dis … He held the bone ring out in front of him. Dis ring has the power …

Korbin interrupted his mentor, To heal. It is a ring of regeneration.

A surprised expression came across the Archmage’s face. Yes indeed, you really do know your magic items Korbin. Dis was a gift Vigor had made for me from one of his hunts. I thought de whole idea revolting. I would’ve preferred a spell or potion you know, but to refuse the ting would ave insulted the dwarf. He wouldn’t mind if you had it.

Korbin placed the ring on his finger.

No. no, you don’t wear it dere. Too conspicuous. Wearing it out in the open will invite bandits and thieves.

The young elf reached into his pocket, pulled a glove from it and began placing it on his hand.

No. Brêson pointed down to his sandaled feet. I don’t wear boots like you, but you get the idea.

Korbin pulled his boot off and his sock and slid the troll ring on his toe.

Dese are tings you learn on da road … sometimes de hard way, Brêson spoke while Korbin situated himself.

Master Brêson, I want to thank you, the young mage managed and faced his mentor.

You ave been a fine student and an exemplary apprentice. You do not have to tank me Korbin. It has been a pleasure to see you grow in the knowledge of de arts. Go and do well young Castlebane. I fear your greatest challenge yet will be getting the blessing of your uncle. Brêson gave a wink to the young mage and clapped him on his shoulder.

Korbin left quickly. The journey to Longbay was not a short one, but the young mage had a renewed spirit. He had not been sure how his mentor was going to react to the news of his departure, and the professor’s demeanor about the whole idea was more than reassuring. Korbin hoped his uncle would react much the same, but that was a fantasy he knew would never come true.

When Korbin left, Brêson went back to the tome he was studying and pulled the blanket away. Now my friend, I believe I’ve found de reason for why the last spell went awry. His wrinkled hand turned the page. By all the Sand Gods! Da heart of da dragon of course! Brêson began to dance about the place then he paused, his lips pursed together and an index finger pointing to the sky. Dat will not be an easy item to find!

Kendle stood over the large meeting table in the back room of the Heroes’ Tale deep in thought. He took a long draw from a crystal goblet and began scanning the recent plans Pawldo had couriered to him a week ago. The elf was so busy with council meetings and elaborate get-togethers with Longbay’s elite that he barely had any time to spend with his visiting nephew.

The young mage kept busy however with the work surrounding the operations of the Eastern Crown’s largest establishment. Rannabell took it upon himself to keep the boy occupied by teaching him some useful low-level spells.

Kendle sighed and placed the sweet beverage down; he should have made the time for the young elf. He traced his slender finger over some of the lines on the blueprint. Pawldo, are you ever going to be satisfied, or ever finished for that matter, with this place? The elven leader spoke aloud, but softly. Well, a new tunnel and a sub sub-basement. I guess Vigor’s kin will be back in town. I will be sure to take enough gold over to the sheriff ahead of time to keep that crew from spending their nights in jail! He laughed. The dwarves always had a way of finding a fight or two especially after spending the afternoons with their mugs raised. I wonder if Pawldo understands that there is a limit to the amount of wealth we have. Kendle commented again aloud after realizing the complexity of the proposed new construction.

Appearently not. A voice announced from the side of the hunched over elven hero. Korbin pulled the curtain away and entered the room.

The time you’ve been spending with Rannabell seems to be paying off. You nearly startled me that time. The phrase was not an accurate one and the young elf’s expression showed his lack of amusement.

Sorry to bother you Kendle, Korbin began respectfully, I’ve decided to cut my visit short, and I am leaving for school tomorrow.

Kendle raised an eyebrow. But you’re not due back for a month.

I need the time to travel, to adventure, Korbin explained and walked around the table to face his uncle.

That is hardly enough time to adventure, let alone assemble a decent party, Kendle countered matter-of-factly.

Well that’s what I’m going to do … assemble a party then! The tone of the argument alerted his uncle that his young nephew had not a clue about how to go about forming an adventuring party.

And who will join this party of yours? Certainly you’ve given that some thought? Kendle’s statement reeked of sarcasm and cut deep into the young elf’s pride.

Well, well ya! I have and that’s why I’m leaving! Korbin spat and folded his arms, a move that set his uncle off.

You have no idea what is out there, do you? Well, it’s far worse than I have ever explained to you and I’m not sure it’s all worth it either! People die adventuring Korbin. Friends die! Is that what you really want, to see your friends die right in front of you? The elven leader was pacing. Hear these words young elf; this is not what I risked my life and the lives of my friends for. All this I did to provide you with the means to have a better future, a chance to study at the best magic colleges and grow up in a world where you would not have to risk your life. That is what we’ve made here. Can you see that Korbin or is your head so filled with the lure and lust of adventure that it means nothing to you! Kendle stopped and his hands went on his hips.

Of course! Korbin shouted, But it means more to you because you were a part of it and that’s what I want, to be looked upon with respect and reverence, not because I’m the nephew of Kendle Castlebane, but because of what I have done and what I have accomplished. Can’t you see that or is that beneath you Sir Kendle. Those words truly hurt the hero. I’m tired of living in your shadow. I want what everyone wants … respect … and I am not going to get it by hiding behind uncle Kendle. Now I’m going to leave, with or without your support, to find my destiny and to make a name for myself, a name I can respect! Korbin finished his speech with a hard fist on the table, the force causing Kendle’s goblet to spill.

So that’s how it’s going to be and nothing I can say will cause you to rethink your path then?

Korbin slowly shook his head No

Kendle visibly calmed himself and lowered the tone of his voice. If that is the case, I can not in good conscience let you go out there blindly. At least you can learn from my mistakes. Follow me. Kendle walked over to an area rug adjacent to the table and pressed on a floorboard. A trap door sprung up and the two climbed down into another meeting room, but this wasn’t any room. This was the hall of heroes. This was Korbin’s favorite place to study. Each one of Kendle’s friends had a place at the ornately carved table. The mage felt an aura every time he was here. A feeling that fuelled the young mage’s desires to adventure even more. He wanted his name and place here too. Kendle walked around the huge table to the place where his long dead friend Alizar would have sat. Do you have some individuals in mind for this party?

I’ve thought about Kyle and I have a few friends at school who are willing to come along, Korbin answered plainly.

You will need an experienced fighter first of all and there is one person I have in mind that will be a good fit for your young party. His name is Caladin Swiftwind. He is of our race and he has trained under Ezrin Oakshield, whom you know of. He is young like you, but he shows great promise of becoming a great warrior. I will send word to Ezrin in Goldleaf of my request and I will have Caladin meet you at Oakpoint along with Kyle. Cal will pick him up along the way. He will be a good addition as well. Ralcus has trained the orphan as a ranger and his ability with a bow will be a great asset to your party. You know of anyone skilled at thievery or healing. Another two additions your party cannot be without. Again, Korbin shook his head ‘No.’ Talk with Rannabell then, he certainly knows more than a few. There is one item that you will not leave here without. Kendle placed his hand, palm up under the table and pulled out a drawer hidden from plain sight. He reached into the box and snagged from it a crystal necklace. He held it up for the young elf to view. The candlelight danced about the room after it penetrated the item’s translucent surface. This young nephew is your safety net. Kendle began and Korbin knew immediately what it was, he had seen the item worn by the heroes on several occasions, but never had the opportunity to use one. If, for any reason, you fall into a situation in which you feel most grave and you require the help of any of us, draw on the crystal’s power and we will come and aid you. I pray you will never have to use it, but the world is a dangerous place even for the best skilled. I wish you the best my young nephew. Kendle placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and looked directly into his eyes. It seems the blood of the Castlebane’s runs thick through your veins. Korbin smiled slightly as he gazed up at his uncle, his hero. I made a promise to your mother before she passed that I would keep you from harm and I’ve done my best to fulfill that promise, but-

And you have done a fine job, my mother would be proud, Korbin quickly interjected.

Kendle placed the necklace over Korbin’s head. Promise me one thing Korbin.

The young elf turned his gaze from the crystal pendant, Name it, I’ll do anything.

I want you to check in from time to time with Pawldo or Brêson. Look at me Korbin. This is very important. They will be able to aid you quicker than any of us. Promise me Korbin you’ll do this!

The hero’s stare went right through the young elf, I will, I promise!

Very well, see Rannabell before you leave for some supplies. He will tap the vault. You will need some magic items for yourself and the others, he embraced the boy and the two exchanged pads on the back. The young adventurer left with the whole world ahead of him and Kendle knew he was powerless to stop him.

The road from Longbay to Digtown was usually clear of Brigands, thanks to the patrols of King Seram. This road was a main supply route and well maintained in order to keep the commerce veins flowing to the towns of the eastern crown. Korbin was halfway to Digtown when he finally slowed his steed to a walk. He reached back in his saddlebag and pulled out a scroll case Rannabell had placed in there before his departure from The Hero’s Tale. The young mage read it aloud:

Dear Korbin Castlebane,

The time has finally come for you to set out on your own and make a name for yourself in this world. Kendle has been dreading this day since he took you in and he raised you as his own. I have, on the other hand, been looking foreword to seeing, my young friend, grow in our knowledge of the arcane arts and I am confident in your abilities. The road ahead has many surprises. Some good, some grave and some rot with adventure. You will do fine my friend. Brêson, Pawldo and I have seen a great potential in you, how else can you explain our wanting to teach you the arts.

Take heed young Korbin, the group you form will only be as strong as its weakest link. So take time in selecting individuals for your band. Kendle did well to suggest Caladin. He fights much like your uncle and Kyle’s skill, as a ranger will aid your cause as well. I would travel with you, but my responsibilities are here for now, so I suggest you stop in Digtown and visit an associate of mine, a gnome by the name of Firgo Gillespie. He is an archeologist by trade, a seasoned veteran when it comes to adventuring and has traveled all over Rothan. You and he share the same motivation, treasure and artifacts. His residence in Digtown is far from ordinary and his wealth rivals that of ours … hardly.

I know it pains you to have to mention your last name, but you will have to get over that.

Having a famous uncle is not all bad you know. It may aid you in your quest for fortune and fame. Do not let your ego get in the way of your own success.

Good luck young Korbin. I know you will succeed!

—Rannabell

Korbin rolled the parchment backup placed it back in its case and into the saddlebag. He truly respected the halfling and allowed his mount to continue walking while he pondered his words. The young mage then made some quick gestures and the horse’s walk became a trot. He yelled, Yaw, Dug his heels into the animal’s side and the beast exploded into action, a full all out gallop. The horse looked back at it’s rider in disbelief. Korbin laughed aloud, grabbed the reins and lowered his body, streamlining himself. Faster and faster the horse ran, becoming a blur to anyone watching. The mage rode through the Copper Hills and arrived in Digtown even sooner than he had calculated. The late evening sky was darkening almost by the minute, so he worked quickly to find some lodging for the night. Aquilla’s Tavern was a small place just inside the city, as good as any the mage thought until he found Firgo’s home the next morning. He tied his tired steed outside, flipped a young boy a gold piece, and instructed him to find proper housing for the animal.

The place was like any small pub, not even as large as the foyer back in The Heroes tale, but neatly kept and appropriately decorated. Korbin approached the bar, drawing stares from all corners of the establishment. The hood of his cloak did little to hide his white mane which reached out of the opening like froth from an over filled mug. He ignored the stares; many of them ended when he reached the bar; quickly paid for his room, a mug of ale and headed upstairs.

Korbin left nothing of value on the steed and carried all of his belongings in the dimensional bag Rannabell so graciously gave him. The item was a rare and expensive piece and Korbin recalled Brêson’s lecture about its limitations. The thought of his mentor brought a smile to his face; he pictured the older man in his turban, robe, and even went so much as to impersonate his accent while opening the door to his room.

The young mage was on his own, no more lectures to sit attentive in and more importantly, no uncle to keep watch over him. It felt good, he felt free. That night he spent in slumber dreaming about the life he had just begun to live.

Ezrin countered the attack easily by turning his body to the side and taking a step while grabbing the young elf’s arm with one hand and continued the motion with the other. The student was standing with his back exposed and vulnerable to his teacher. Not a good attack against a superior fighter, Ezrin Oakshield instructed and laid a swift blow into the lower back of the dumfounded young elf. He doubled over and fell immediately to the mat face first, gasping to regain his breath. Ezrin turned and faced a line of other young prospective elven warriors, Never attack an opponent and leave yourself exposed for disaster! Always keep your threat in front of you! He yelled, visibly upset at the boy’s mistake. Someone help him up, he instructed and the two closest to their fallen comrade helped him to his feet. He still was rasping and tears were evident in his eyes.

Cal! Come out here! A ruff and rugged looking elf stepped out from the end of the line and took a defensive stance. Now show these want-a-bees how the King wants his elite guard to perform, Ezrin roared and came at the younger elf with a fury.

He punched for the sandy haired elf’s head and Caladin stepped away from the blow and countered with a jab of his own at his instructor’s kidneys. Ezrin anticipated the move, slapped the jab aside, and balanced on his pivoting leg and side kicked the elf. The kick caught Cal on his thigh rolling with the blow into a somersault that brought him back up on his feet facing his mentor. The rugged elf came back at Ezrin with a martial attack of his own, but the superior fighter grabbed his leg causing the elf to fall, back first on the floor. No problem for Cal, he swept his free leg across catching his teacher’s ankle. Ezrin stumbled slightly and released his grip on the boy. He then looked toward the line of young elves; each watched the sparring entranced by the melee. With an out stretched hand, Ezrin caught a staff thrown his way by another older looking elf.

Caladin Swiftwind was back up on his feet again and caught another staff thrown at him by a fellow student and brought the weapon out and then to his side, poised for an attack. The elf did not wait for Ezrin to move first. He charged in bringing the pole quicker than the instructor anticipated and rushed to block. Getting the pole up he turned the blow and countered by bringing it into the belly of his attacker. Cal jumped back as the blow grazed his abdomen nearly taking his breath away. The sandy haired elf had little time to rest, instinctively bringing the pole back up again for the next shot.

Ezrin poked at the retreating elf scoring a shot on his chest. Cal fell back absorbing the blow with another backward somersault. The student returned to his feet and blocked yet another vicious attack. The slash came with such force that Cal began to wonder his mentor’s intent. That thought just fueled the disciplined fighter and he countered sweeping Ezrin’s feet out from under him.

Ezrin realized his mistake and took