The BlackHawk Meets The Tiger

By Tiger BlackHawk

The BlackHawk begins to terrorize a small city, pirates led by Skull terrorize the Dormoth waters of their merchant trade, Emperor Caja taxes his people to near starvation, and King Docera of the dwarves find his people in harm's way as giants attack.

Then appears a man dressed in white robes. He quickly makes a name for himsel

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jun 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781648954269

Tiger BlackHawk

The author is a Texas native who is a published poet with his first poetry book released in 2004. It was titled I Now Stand Naked. The title expresses what writers and poets do when they share their feelings in the books that they write. Tiger enjoys writing and storytelling. We hope you enjoy the story shared in this book.

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The Blackhawk Meets the Tiger

A Fantasy Adventure

Tiger Blackhawk

THE BLACKHAWK MEETS THE TIGER

Copyright © 2021 Tiger Blackhawk

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Stratton Press Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in the work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-64895-425-2

ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-64895-426-9

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

The Blackhawk Faces the Tiger

Accidental Heroes

Crossing a Blackhawk Is Never Wise

The Tiger Appears

A Bottled Hawk

The Emperor’s Gift

The Tiger Enters

Hawk and the Hunter

The Market

The Sea Dragon

To Build a Keep

You Can’t Be Serious

Lord Tiger of Serious

The Day Napol Shook

The New Era

The War of Skull

Tiger Gets Revenge

Chasing the Heart of a Tiger

Dragon Gold

A Secret Revealed

Lord Tiger Takes His Princess

Behold, Gods of the Heavens

A Time for Mourning, a Time for War

Taxes or Your Kingdom

The Family

A Family Tarnished

The Journey Home

Tiger’s Last Stand

Let’s Rock the City

Tiger Reaches the Limits of His Patience

All Things Must Come to an End

The Blackhawk Faces the Tiger

Shadows flickered about the clearing as two shadows sat around a small campfire, the fire burning low and gentle. Their voices were like whispers upon the wind. Silence held about them as they stared into the flames, reflecting upon their past lives, each with a past they wished to forget. The air was crisp about them as they pulled their cloaks tighter. It was fate that had brought these two to this same gathering, one place in the middle of darkness. These two men were searching for a home, a place where they could be respected and welcomed. They were outcasts of society, alone with only each other to call a brother. One was a drow elf with dark skin and yellow eyes, his ears pointed, unlike a human’s, and his hair as white as snow. Like most other elven races, he was of a rather thin frame and slightly taller than the average human. This man was a skilled hunter, yet he had powers that would rival most mages. His cloak, a dusty brown, was made of a boar’s hide, leathers to keep him warm on this brisk night. He often wore a black cloak with a cowl to conceal his features from the rest of the world, but he could not hide those yellow eyes. Some thought of him to be akin to devils. The world would one day realize he wasn’t the one to fear. He was only known as the Shadow.

Across from this drow sat another man. He appeared normal to most, but there was something dark about this man, something that would make grown men shake in their very boots. This night he too wore black. He had a hawk-shaped mask over most of his face. His forehead and those eyes were all that showed. Those eyes, they were a piercing blue. Most that spoke of him would mention his piercing eyes. They said it was as if he could peer into a man’s soul, as if he could see all that was held within. He had this power to make people do things with just a look. He always wore black gloves, a black cloak, and a black cowl that covered his head. He would walk in the shadows like a ghost. He was not a big man, only about five feet and nine inches. The only visible weapon upon his person was a black-hilted sword. When pulled, they said the steel was as black as the darkest moonless night. This was the man that the world would learn to fear. He would make his name known to all as the BlackHawk.

Who am I? I am the storyteller of their adventures, stories given to me by the witnesses and pieced together over the years, stories that men themselves spoke to me before their passing. I shall be the bard that guides you through this unusual story not just of these two men, but of four men. It is an entangled web of deceit, honor, heroism, death, greed, and, yes, even of love. For now, you may call me bard, a storyteller. You may place your coins in my small box should you find them of any value.

I suppose I should tell you of these other two men that will become an important part of this world’s history. Perhaps I should wait before I unveil the heroes of this story. Or were they truly heroes? I learned that it is often hard to tell them apart. Let us continue.

The third man in this story, amazingly, is a shadow of a being. He has no facial features. Most that looked upon him feared him, yet he appeared to be a very good and honest man. He always wore a cloak of black, and his image seemed to waver as he moved. He seemed clouded by shadows even on a bright summer’s day. He was not someone most would respect or learn to love. They say that appearances can be very deceiving, as if to look upon something in one light, only to later learn it was not as it seemed. It was never fully known as to what this man was. If given enough coin in my hat, I might reveal the truths within my tales. Or perhaps I don’t know the truths as to the answers of this man. But what is a tale worth if there isn’t at least some mystery? This man, the world came to know as Leftner or the Dark One.

The fourth man.

With a pause, Silver stopped telling his story to those who listened within the tavern. His fingers moved to rake through silver-and-black striped hair as he paused for those listening to drop in a few coins. There was something about this fourth man that seemed to pique the interest of his listeners. This was Silver’s way to make a few extra coins as he journeyed along the lands. This man wasn’t a normal bard by any means, yet the stories rolled off his tongue like a magical tune as he spoke. Those listening moved closer to hear the tales of one man, the man that would change their history. Silver nodded once to his audience, and once more began to tell his tales.

This fourth man often dressed in white. He had tigers embroidered upon each of his sleeves, over his heart, and across his back. He wore no mask to conceal his identity. Across his back was a golden-hilted sword, and when drawn, its steel shone of a light blue glow. He was a man of power, a man that all feared. He had these striking blue eyes that could draw the wind from the north and send it to attack the east. His eyes were so similar to that of the BlackHawk that most wondered if they had at one time been brothers. He was the rival of all that was evil. No one stood before him; even the gods themselves quaked in his path. The demons fled from his presence. He was Lord Tigerious Kunig! His name translated meant the Tiger King. This was the man that the world learned to respect and others would love with all their hearts.

Silver reached over to take up a mug of ale and smiled as he looked across the tavern at those who now listened to the story he was beginning to weave. Were they true stories? Or did he make them up? It mattered not to the audience as more coins found their way to his hat. His blue eyes took in his audience one more time, then he leaned forward and began to tell the stories of four men. I too sat closer to hear his words.

Accidental Heroes

The story begins at that small campfire so many years ago. As I had said, silence held the two men that stared into that fire. They walked a path that fate had put upon each of them. They had only one gift, a piece bestowed upon them by some unknown power which they never revealed. Maybe they stole these items. What were their powers? To this day that remains a secret. But the drow wore a medallion upon his forehead. It was said to harness his powers and made him a stronger mage. His name came to be known as the Shadow for he always walked behind the BlackHawk, as if he was a shadow of the man. This man that sat across from Shadow had this sword that could carve a dragon like a loaf of bread, or so the stories often told. There was a darkness to his soul that was unmatched by the evils of hell itself. Though even with this dark shadow that lived within him, there as an odd light. Could it have been a spark of good within something so vile? Not likely of a man who would cut your head off for all the world to see, then boldly walk away as if to challenge anyone to do anything about it. All who got close to this man ended up as food for the worms.

Silver smiled at the reaction of his audience and took another long swig of his ale. Then motioned for the innkeeper to refill his mug as he sat it down to continue. It was well known that most who lived within these lands knew enough about the BlackHawk to have a fear of him. Stories often told of him would send shivers along the spines of most great warriors. For he was not considered a man, rather a beast, a demon of the dark. I wondered if these stories I was about to hear held any truths. In my curiosity I continued to listen.

Silence was broken by BlackHawk as they sat there. He says to the Shadow, I have been thinking.

The Shadow looked up at his brother and asked, What about, my brother?

The BlackHawk looked up to Shadow, those piercing blues cold as the night air in a deep winter. I grow weary being a man paid to do another’s bidding. Our father was weak, and it cost him his life. We should have died with him.

Sorrow came into Shadow’s eyes. The father they spoke of was not their true father. He was a man that took them into his care when they were still rather young. Both had a rough life when they were younger. Their father was a mere farmer, and a greater lord had killed their father for his lands. Hawk and Shadow had not taken revenge upon his death because the overlord was very powerful, though together they would one day become a very powerful force. You see, Hawk was a ninja.

Silver stopped his tale and looked about as if to make sure one wasn’t within the tavern. You see, ninjas were not commonly known, and often it was said that they would kill those who spoke of such things. He smiled and took another drink of the fresh mug of ale that the maiden had sat beside him. He didn’t really appear to be too worried, but naturally this enhanced his tale.

That is right, he was a very well-trained assassin. Over the next several years, his skills would be tested. Little did he know how much. The Shadow, however, was a bit different. He was a kind of a ranger. These two were an odd pair as rangers are known to be rather good and assassins are rather evil. The Shadow, hearing Hawk’s last words, shook his head. No, we did as he asked. We left. We respected him as two sons should have. Our day of vengeance will come, I promise.

Hawk knew it was not over between them and this overlord. I suppose at times life offers strange partners to become united. When they were younger, they often fought. Now they would become a team of two. Facing a world that is not always so gentle, they had become blood brothers.

As Silver took another break to drink more ale, a man within the crowd called, Tell us of Tiger!

Silver raised his hand with another flash of that deceiving smile. Not yet, his time is yet to come. I will tell of him. This you can be sure of.

I pondered about the name and wondered why his name seemed to mean even more to his audience. Silver’s voice flowed through the tavern.

Upon the next evening, as the sun began to set, would begin the stories of a woman very much loved by her people, Princess Nicole.

The crowd leaned forward, and more coins found their path to his hat. Aye, this was a tale to be told. The princess was very well loved, you see, and very well known.

The BlackHawk and his shadow walked through the woods, lurking. No one knows exactly why, perhaps to avoid running into anyone. Maybe it was just another twisted way of fate. You know they often say you can’t escape that which must be. Hearing some voices, they lowered within the darkness and made their way to a clearing. Within was about fifty or so brigands, rough types wearing rugged leather attire. They seemed rather happy with themselves, much like those who recently made a good score or a gambler who had just won a large pot of coins. Across the way were four posts, each with a humanoid tied to them. In the dark, it wasn’t easy to tell if someone was human, elf, or perhaps some other race. The one thing for sure is that they were prisoners. Hawk looked over at his brother and motioned that he was going in for a closer look. Slipping through the trees, he moved behind one man. The dagger that appeared in his hand made a quick dispatch of one roaming guard. It wasn’t long before Hawk was walking across the clearing, casually enjoying a stroll toward the tents—if you can picture a ninja making a casual stroll, that is. They can be rather skilled actors. He had acquired the attire of the dead brigand.

Slipping by a tent along the backside, he heard a woman’s voice, It will be a cold day in hell before my father gives you anything!

Such language for a proper lady. Slicing a small hole to look within, Hawk quickly recognized the princess. Naturally who wouldn’t know of her when her father paraded her around everywhere like most proud fathers would? Now it was not known if the Hawk ever smiled, since that mask always hid his mouth, but I can just imagine the thoughts that went through his mind that night, and I bet he did have some kind of smile under that mask.

He watched the leader of the brigands backhand the princess, and Hawk turned to move off. Making his way back to his brother, he lowered and whispered low, They have some loot stolen from the emperor’s wagons and those men on the poles. We are going to free all of them. Wait for my signal.

As Hawk moved off into the camp once more, Shadow asked, What is this sig… His brother was gone before he got the question out completely, but he figured he’d know when it took place.

Hawk walked along the campfires to where several had gathered to talk, drink, and enjoy themselves. As he made his way to the one with the most brigands around it, Hawk casually dropped something into the fire after pouring himself a cup of coffee, and he walked back toward the tents unchallenged. The explosion that engulfed those men led to a huge cloud. At least eight men fell dead from the poison that was within that cloud. Several others lay sick on the ground, fighting to clear their lungs. By the time those not within range of the cloud turned to find Hawk, he was gone and out of sight. Meanwhile, Shadow shape-shifted into a small beaver and made his way across the clearing to the four poles in a quick haste.

Did I forget to mention that this Shadow seemed to have abilities to change forms?

While Shadow chewed away the ropes of those tied to the poles, the brigands ran about in chaos trying to figure out what just happened. Some were seeking the man who last filled his mug with coffee. Others thought they were being attacked by creatures of the night, some sort of magical beings.

In the darkness, Hawk cuts the back of a tent open. He made his way into the tent where the princess was held captive. The leader of the brigands had run outside to find out what the commotion was all about. His orders were sent into the night. Chaos disturbed the camp as shouts of men were heard. The one they sought had vanished.

Shadow had hoped those tied up would lend a hand to the fight. When he got them untied, he changed back into his normal form. Three of them were merchants, and only one of the four could fight. Unfortunately he was a samurai. You see, the emperor was also a samurai, and neither Shadow nor Hawk had any love for them. Shadow pointed the direction for the merchants to race off to. They would not be much help.

Quickly get to the cover over there!

The merchants raced for cover.

The samurai quickly attacked a brigand, taking him to the ground. Now more cries filled the night. A quick breaking of the brigand’s neck and the samurai warrior pulled a sword out of a fallen brigand’s sheath. He turned to find and save the princess. For it was he who was supposed to be protecting her. That was two strikes against the poor man. As we all know, death is before dishonor, and somehow he got both captured and failed to protect his charge. Perhaps he could now make up for it and do one or the other.

As the leader turned to enter the tent once more, he found himself in a rather bad way. Hawk’s sword made its way through the man’s chest.

If this sounds chaotic, come closer to hear what happened next.

Out of nowhere, a huge black dragon appeared in the clearing. It killed two of the brigands with one twist of its tail. Upon seeing the black dragon, the remaining brigands cried out in fear and ran scattering into the woods, tumbling, stumbling, and bashing into trees as they looked for a place to hide from this black creature that towered some forty feet from the ground. Shadow was very happy that they ran away because he couldn’t hold the form for more than a few minutes. It stretched his limits at that time. Like all other skills in life, practice is needed if you intend to do it better. Being with Hawk, he would soon learn that he’d be getting a lot of practice.

Through the chaos, the samurai noticed the princess was being carted away into the woods by one of the brigands, or rather, a man that was dressed in a brigand outfit. He raced into the woods to rescue his charge. As he entered, he found the brigand laying the princess down. Slowly Hawk turned to the samurai, who smiled wide and held out his arm. He had realized Hawk was not one of the brigands but a stranger that was involved in their rescue. You saved the princess, I am grateful of your service to our emperor.

With that said, Hawk reached out his hand, and that black-gloved hand clasped the samurai’s. He nodded once as the man winced in great pain. A dart left the sleeve of the ninja and found its way into the samurai’s thigh. That cold voice of Hawk’s flowed through the night air like a haunting shroud, It was my pleasure.

The warrior fell to the ground as the poison quickly took his life. His eyes showed shock and confusion as he stared into those cold eyes. Releasing the lifeless hand of the now dead warrior, Hawk turned his attentions upon the princess.

Hawk left the princess tied up and gagged within those trees and rushed back to check up on his brother. Upon reaching his brother once more, he learned of the three merchants.

One merchant shook Shadow’s hand. We thank ye for saving us. For your help I shall give you one thousand gold coins. Stop by my shop and I shall have your gold ready. I am so glad you came to our rescue.

It seemed they were rather wealthy. Each merchant swore they would give one thousand gold coins to these heroes. A rather large sum of gold even by today’s standards. Well, no way would a man like Hawk turn down gold.

So Hawk looked to his brother. Escort these men safely to their city. I have some things that need tending. I will meet you later.

Shadow nodded and looked to the men. We shall travel this way. Follow me please.

Shadow led the merchants toward the city. Hawk didn’t bother to tell Shadow about a certain female.

Silver reached down and took another long pull of his ale. It is a thirsty job telling stories and histories, you know.

One of the crowd then asked, So what happened to the princess?

I myself wondered about this, considering an assassin now had in his hands the daughter of a very rich emperor.

Silver continued his tale.

Now there was a lot of rumors and speculation as to what exactly happened. You see, someone refused to tell the truth. But the princess, years later, revealed the stories I will now relay unto you fine people. It seems Hawk sold the princess to her father’s enemy for gold. He also got what he could off the loot he found, bought some supplies to survive for a few weeks, and made his way back to his brother. Naturally, being that the merchants were on the same caravan with the princess, they did ask if she was also rescued.

So that night when the two met up, Shadow looked over at his brother. Did you save the princess, or is she dead?

Of course I did. What kind of stupid question is that? Hawk answered.

Shadow gave him a funny look and sipped his coffee. So why didn’t you bring her with us?

Those piercing blue eyes slowly looked up at his brother. You’re questioning me?

They often said that the voice of Hawk could send shivers up the spine of a dragon. It was not wise to question him. But this was Shadow. Shadow never backed down, and he asked again, Where is she?

A rare smile crossed Hawk’s lips, and he simply replied, I made sure her father will know exactly where she is. She’ll be okay.

You know, I think if Shadow knew exactly what that meant, he probably would have cast a spell on Hawk and turned him into a frog that night. Shadow loved his brother dearly, but there were those times that he did not like things his brother did. He chose not to question him further. Sometimes not knowing was better for one’s peace of mind.

As his audience laughed and chuckled a bit, he sat back and took another long drink of his ale. He took up his coins and left for the evening with the promise of more tales soon to come.

Crossing a Blackhawk Is Never Wise

The two brothers found themselves a small area within the forest to make their camp. They held up with the few supplies which they had gathered. They didn’t come away with as much treasure from the brigand camp as they had hoped. Sitting against a tree, Hawk sharpened one of his throwing daggers. Shadow sat near a fire as he stirred the stew from time to time.

We need to live better than this, my friend. Hawk looked up at his brother as he spoke.

Shadow, with a smile on his face, reached over to fill two bowls with the stew. Leaning over to offer Hawk a bowl, he replied, I think we live really good, to be honest. Sure, it might be nice to have a better roof over our heads come winter, but this isn’t that bad of a life.

Hawk growled low then pulled the stew to his lips, taking a sip. Tomorrow I will go into town to collect our reward from those merchants. Why don’t you scout around and see if you can find us a great place to stay? Perhaps a place to build a cabin.

Shadow nodded. Okay, I’ll meet you here after I am done. But why do you insist on going in alone?

You are a drow elf, my brother. Hawk paused to sip more of that stew before he continued, They don’t much care for your type in the cities. Most think all those of the drow race are evil.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed as he listened to the explanation. Well, you know I can’t prove I am a nice man sitting here outside of those walls.

Hawk sat his bowl down and looked to his brother. They would impale me on the spot if they knew I am a ninja. These people don’t like assassins, thieves, orcs, and a lot of other things. It’s not just you. Sad part is, most of these people are worse than you and I put together. Besides, those merchants are not to be trusted. Surely they know what I am and what you are. Don’t forget what happened to our father. He trusted too many people.

Shadow handed Hawk a bota of water and left the conversation alone. He knew that his brother was correct. Seemed mankind had their dislikes and likes of each race. Often men like Shadow were outcasts, but men like his brother were just killed out of fear, though a trained assassin had this ability to show up where he wasn’t expected to be. Most even now walked among the common folk and still do. To this day, they can’t be seen for what they are until it is too late.

What most folks never knew, and I shall tell you this night, is to what extent Shadow played a role within the dealings of the BlackHawk. Often the legend rolls around this BlackHawk. Seldom is there any mention of his shadow. In most of the stories where there is the mention of Hawk, Shadow is never noticed. It is as though they never realized there were two men that roamed the night. Most never knew that Shadow often kept the BlackHawk alive. But I have found the secrets of the stories, and I shall reveal all of them to you. For a few more coins, of course.

Silver lowered his hand to take up a goblet of wine. This evening he found audience in a common room within a common hall of the castle keep where once lived the great ruler Tiger. His fingers swept through his striped silver-and-black hair. A twist of his neck to stretch his muscles, then as the last of several coins landed into his hat nearby, his silver tongue once more wove tales of the history within this world.

As some may know, back several years ago, there lay the city of Napol. This city rested against the ocean we call Dormoth, which, of course, was named after the first man to sail across it who found the lands of Kilt. This city of Napol flourished and was filled with coins. Was being a key word.

Most folks, to this day, do not know what happened in those years for sure, nor why Hawk performed his deeds. Hawk dressed as a peasant to enter the city, and he made his way to the first merchant’s shop. It was a weapons shop run by a man named Sylem. He was a fat and well-fed merchant, as were most merchants in Napol. He made special weapons of various types. He had a nasty habit of finding and hoarding magical items. Upon walking into the main part of the shop, Hawk approached the merchant he had saved not more than three days prior and explained that he had come for the reward. It was at this time the merchant laughed at Hawk and said, Hades will have to freeze over before I give away gold to a man of your sort. Were you a proper hero or warrior, you would have done it for free.

Hawk remained silent and nodded his head just once. His nods, they say, were always very slow and decisive. His piercing blue eyes stare into the merchant’s eyes for a moment. The merchant, of course, took a step back. Hawk walked away, allowing the merchant to live, and made his way to the next merchant.

Drath owned an iron shipping company. He’d import iron from across the land by ship to his outlet, then he would sell the iron to the weapons makers, smithies, and others who had need or a use for the iron he imported. He was a gray-haired man slightly larger than Hawk in size, I’d say about six feet tall. His shoulders a bit broader. I would suspect that this man felt that he could handle himself in any confrontation. I would figure he could in most situations, just not all of them. Hawk requested to receive his reward from the merchant.

This man also laughed at the idea of handing over the gold he had promised, saying, That offer was made in haste when I was out of my mind and still flowing with the emotion of being freed. I cannot nor will I give you such a prize.

At this Hawk just growled low and turned to walk away. The merchant picked up a stone and threw it at Hawk. And don’t come begging here anymore!

It shocked the merchant when Hawk, dressed as a peasant, turned with ease and caught the stone. Hawk examined the stone before dropping it, then slowly offered a single nod to Drath. Then he walked to the third merchant’s shop with that slow pace of his.

It was probably the richest of the three shops. Gabon dealt with gems of all kinds. He’d purchase gemstones from gnomes, dwarfs, and others who mined them from their caves for a rather low price. Turning these gems into trinkets, he’d then sell them for higher prices to the richer people who found such beauty in the stones. Once more Hawk approached the owner of the shop. Once more he reminded the shop owner of the deal struck. Only this time was a bit different as Gabon seemed to not realize what he was dealing with.

The merchant replied to Hawk, I owe you nothing. You are only scum of the earth, and we should rid ourselves of the likes of you.

It was at this time that the merchant motioned to the two guards who worked for him and said, Remove this man from my sight. Better yet, out of my city.

Of course we all know the city didn’t belong to the merchants. However, at this time in history, most merchants felt it did indeed belong to them. Over all, this was the most heavily imported and exported of cities in the empire. Almost everything went through this city. The two warriors approached Hawk and was about to touch him when he held up his hands and said, Touch me and die.

Hawk’s voice was calm as a green paster on a windless day. Piercing blues relaxed on a face that showed no anger, no frustration, and no fear. The two warriors stepped back and looked at each other, then to the unarmed peasant man. They laughed and drew swords from their sheaths.

Run away, little man, and maybe we will let you keep your skin, one of the two warriors spoke.

Hawk stood his ground and lowered his arms, staring at the two men. They both suddenly rushed their victim as if to scare him. It was then both men found themselves in awe as this peasant leaped over their heads and onto the roof of the shop. They turned to look up. It was about a fourteen-foot leap, and he did it flat footed. A sly smile creased Hawk’s lips as he spoke down to the shop owner and the two warriors, It tis nae wise to upset me. Within the sitting of the moon of nine days, three merchants will find their paths in the shadows of the hawk. When one faces the BlackHawk, he also faces death. So be ye wary, ye who feel they are greater than I. The Hawk comes for ye. Ye should warn your friends of their coming fate. Three times three.

As he turned on the roof to leave, a large pillar of smoke formed, and as it faded, the BlackHawk was gone. Interestingly enough, as far as most know from history, that was the first and last time anyone had a chance to see the true identity of the Hawk. So only five men could truly tell what he looked like at that time.

Later that night, two men sat within a damp forest, the rain softly rolling off the cowls of their cloaks. They rested near a fire eating some meat from a deer Shadow had killed. The fire was sheltered by a small stand of branches.

So are you going to explain why you didn’t get any money? You come in here with just a few words, then sit against a tree ignoring my questions. You could at least tell me what is going on. Half of that gold was supposed to be mine, you know.

Clearly Shadow wasn’t too happy with Hawk’s personality. Hawk was the kind that didn’t say much to anyone unless he felt there was a need to do so. Those cold eyes looked up from his chunk of meat. His head gave a single nod, then he began to speak in that low chilling voice, I found every merchant, and they all said the same thing: ‘No, we give not any gold to the likes of you.’

He held up his hand when he noticed Shadow about to speak. Then the merchant that spoke loudest of giving us a reward had the nerve to order his two guards to attack me. All of these men are filled with greed, my brother. The first that I went to takes his weapons and sells them to only the wealthy. He steals magical items and hides them from view, only to use their powers against the not so fortunate. The second merchant owns a great iron trade. He takes iron from all the lands and sells them as his profit, forbidding any others to deal in similar trade as he hires members of the Black Dagger to assassinate those that compete against him.

Now it was a known fact that back in the days of Napol, two large groups of assassins ran through the city working for certain people. The Black Daggers were a rival group of the Red Scorpions. It was unknown for sure if Hawk belonged to either of these two groups. We do know that most assassins must join a group before they can legally work within that group’s borders. Both of these guilds called Napol theirs. But Hawk wasn’t most assassins. There was no way to know if Hawk spoke true about this iron merchant or simply made it up so Shadow would go along with Hawk’s plans.

Hawk continued to speak with his brother, Then this third one owns a gem shop. He pays gnomes and such little for their work. Upon setting them into small pieces of gold, he sells jewelry to the more wealthy. They are all three evil in their own way. We must deal with them.

Hawk often crossed the truths with things not so true, but maybe he really believed all that he told his brother. It could be that he simply knew things others did not. Naturally what we did learn of Shadow is he did not believe in doing anything that was considered evil or against the law. At least not unless there was a good reason behind it. Though we do wonder why he seemed to tolerate his brother’s bad ways from time to time when clearly Hawk wasn’t acting within the proper limits of the law. I supposed there is a lot to be said about the blood bond they both held. Or maybe there was another secret reason which the entire world would be shocked to learn. That is yet another story. It was suspected that Hawk, being an assassin, had knowledge of many due to his secret society.

After hearing his brother’s words Shadow agreed that something must be done. He sat and finished his meal and washed it down with wine that his brother brought back from the town. He didn’t bother to ask how he procured it. He just tried to believe it was obtained honestly. Then they spoke, making their plans. It would take a few days to set all these events into place. The first two days were measured on setting up a proper deception. As some of you may know, assassins tend to make arrangements for success. It is often boasted that they are akin to an artist. Like a canvas being caressed by a brush, they too caress their victims into the perfection of an unforgettable death. The Hawk was one of the best.

It was a pretty day when a gnome went into town. He was wearing a grayish cloak, and he used a wooden cane to get around. He drove a merchant wagon, which he stopped outside of the gemstone shop. He stepped to the dirt road, making his way up to the walkway, then into the shop. Gabon, the merchant, smiled upon seeing the gnome. They were his greatest source of gemstones.

Gabon greeted the gnome, Greetings, how may I assist you?

The gnome smiled and moved to the counter, pulling out a bag of gems. I have gems to sell. Wondering if you might assist me in exchange for gold.

How much are you seeking to get in gold? asked Gabon.

About forty thousand, if you think they are worth that.

Now forty thousand was a lot of gold. The merchant looked rather shocked for there was no way a small bag could be worth that much. Then the gnome explained, I don’t expect it today, sir. This is just a sample of the gems I’ve collected. I have a very large chest filled with these stones—very large chest, sir. I would prefer to deliver them in two nights if I may.

It wasn’t an odd request actually. Gnomes do, after all, prefer the dark for it is well known that their vision is better at night. Most shops closed at sunset. The merchant nodded while he considered a few things. Coming up with coin like that would be near impossible. Then again, if the Gnome truly had this much in a chest, it could be a very wise investment. So he stood there doing some mental calculations as the gnome watched patiently. He finally concluded, after running figures through his mind, I can come up with about twenty-five thousand in gold, no more. If your gems are worth that much, I will pay you. But that is the largest shipment I ever heard of. Two days will be enough time for me to gather the coin.

The gnome thanked Gabon and walked outside to his wagon. A ladder helped him up onto the buckboard, and with small hands taking the reins, he once more guided the horses along the streets of Napol.

The next day, a dwarf walked through the city of Napol and into the iron merchant’s shop. Upon entering, he met Drath and smiled, giving a jolly laugh. Greetings, merchant, I am Thri of Takon.

Drath tilted his head a bit as he never heard of this tribe, and he did indeed deal with many dwarfs. Greetings, Thri, I have never heard of your tribe Takon, though. What mountains do you hail from?

The stocky dwarf laughed again. From Shadow Mountains south of Lakal, of course. Dwarfs were often known for a hearty spirit, not to mention their appetite for drink and food.

How can I help you today? asked Drath. He had not heard of this mountain area, but he did know there were mountains south of Lakal and this could be possible.

I am in need of iron, answered the dwarf. Now his face became serious in expression. He then spoke his reasons and how much, We have twenty thousand in gold to spend. We need that much in iron. I shall return with several wagons to carry it back with me. You see, we are going to war with a neighboring enemy known as the drow, who are claiming some of our prime ore caves for themselves.

He spat to one side as if trying to get rid of a nasty taste and continued, "We intend to make weapons and armor. But they are quickly controlling our mines. Therefore, we must obtain an outside source for our stock. Can you supply that much in iron? I know others cannot. They do not have the resources that