Realms of War

nohow.

He stepped to the edge of the crater where The Beast had been, and tsk-tsked at the tooth-and-claw necklace that had somehow survived.

'You really ought to be more careful about what you eat.'

Then, before Malar's clerics or the orcworts could return, he sprinted away.

The Year of the Tankard (1370 DR)

The halfling drained his ale and set it aside, then leaned back against the mahogany tree. 'And that's how it happened,' he told the younglings. 'How The Beast was defeated, by Kaldair in the form of a spriggan.'

The younglings looked up at the storyteller with wide eyes. 'Is it true?'

The storyteller shrugged. 'What do you think?' He waved a hand at the athletic contests taking place in the sun-dappled field a few paces away. 'To this day, the hin of the Luiren compete in the stone toss, the obstacle course. . even our Weasel in the Hole game comes from this tale.'

The younglings murmured together excitedly. 'Could it be true? A spriggan?'

The storyteller waved a hand, shooing them away. 'Off with you, now. I need my nap.'

As they departed, he leaned back against the tree. 'Younglings,' he chuckled. 'They'll believe anything.' He drifted off into contented slumber.

As he slept, a twig-shaped hand gently stroked a lock of hair that hung against the storyteller's temple. A lock of hair tied with a ribbon-one of the peculiarities of fashion observed by the halflings of the Luiren.

'It's true,' her leaves whispered. She sighed as she looked out over the cultivated fields of the Strongheart and Lightfoot-the fields that had once been thick jungle. 'It's true.'

THE LAST PALADIN OF ILMATER

Susan J. Morris

27 Eleint, The Year of Queen's Tears (902 DR)

The Chondalwood

'How dare he,' Maze said.

Jaeriko struggled to keep up with the angry woman as she tromped through the tangled under shy;growth of the Chondalwood. It was obvious Maze had little regard or skill for the ways of the forest. If she had possessed even a modicum of respect, she wouldn't have been making such a racket. Predators and worse for miles around must have cocked an ear to the woman's infernal crashing. Not that such attention would vex Maze any-Jaeriko imagined the fierce woman would welcome the chance to wet her blades on anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path.

Jaeriko, in contrast, was uncannily adept-walking solely on roots and rocks, and making as little sound as a ripple moving through still waters.

What was more, the vines, grass, and leaves curled and popped back into place after their every step, at her bidding. Perhaps that was why the General of Reth had sent her along on a task that-on the surface-she seemed exceptionally ill-suited for: to cover the dark, scowling woman's tracks as she stormed toward their mutual goal.

Jaeriko shook her head at a particularly virulent curse that escaped the unhappy woman's mouth. She didn't even need eyes to follow the path Maze cut-following the stream of invectives was simple enough. And though it brought her some small delight to see her own proficiency by the light of her companion's deficit, she would have strongly preferred their trip pass in silence. After all, the forest they walked was far from welcoming.

Even for someone as in touch with nature as she, the thick, choking trees and hard-packed earth studded with harder stones made for slow and uncomfortable travel. Moss dripped like blood from every sharp-fingered twig, mush shy;rooms spangled the trees like spent arrows, and vines and branches wove themselves with almost human intent into the path of the two travelers, tripping and cutting whenever they could. To make matters worse, a veil of moon-bright ash hung in the air like a cloud of spores, riding in on every breath and obscuring the dark shapes of the firs and oaks until the travelers stumbled nose-first upon them.

Jaeriko's eyes were sore from squinting through the perpetual haze, her lungs ragged from breathing in the fire-choked air, and her skin dusty as a moth's wing. To Maze, it must have meant the world had declared war.

'Sending an assassin to do a thief's job,' Maze muttered in a rare stretch of language unbroken by profanity.

'A. . what?' Jaeriko said, standing like a startled fawn. Maze backhanded a branch that crossed her path, and Jaeriko ducked just in time to see it hiss back into place. Maze looked back over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow at the flustered druid.

'An assassin. What, you just now figure that out?' Maze said. 'Yes, I kill people for money.' Maze faced forward again, missing Jaeriko's stricken expression. 'You helped me, when I paid for your services. Does that bother you?'

Jaeriko wasn't sure it didn't, but she was too shocked by her former client's lack of trust to contemplate it. 'You could have told me!' she protested.

'You didn't need to know,' Maze said.

'Your partner 'didn't need to know'?' Jaeriko said, but the pieces fell into place. The dark alley, the herb garden, the smell of almonds. The spells of stealth and speed, the exotic collection of weaponry, the extra coin for discretion. She told herself she had never known what the jobs were for, but she had never asked either.

'You're not my partner!' Maze said, interrupting her thoughts. 'And what the Hells did you think I did, anyway?'

'I thought you were a thief,' Jaeriko said.

'And you were all right with that?' Maze said.

Jaeriko shrugged. 'People have too much stuff anyway.'

Maze laughed, and though the sound was pitched high with frustration, it was the first sign of amusement she'd seen from the dour woman. Just when Jaeriko was about to take advantage of the unexpected levity, Maze tripped on a root and had to swing her arms out to avoid falling. 'Gods damn him! I hate forests, I hate children, and I hate everything to do with this blasted war-particularly the undead. By the Nine, who does he think I am?'

'Isn't the question normally 'Who does he think he is'?' Jaeriko asked. Maze glared at her and Jaeriko felt a surge of compassion for the angry assassin. Who could blame her for her angst? Maze hadn't asked for this job. She hadn't asked to be assaulted in her home or to be forced into service at sword point. It was good coin, but it was still unasked for.

'I know who he is,' Maze muttered.

It was just, the general's sword had moved so fast. Jaeriko couldn't have stopped it had it crossed her mind to do so. One moment Maze was telling the General of Reth what he could do with his job; the next, her friend's body was bleeding on the kitchen floor, lying in a pool of blood and chicken soup.

'The coin I'm paying for this job is more than enough to cover your friend's resurrection,' the general had said. 'Just bring me the boy.'

There had been no further arguments.

Dead blue eyes darkened to brown as she refocused on Maze. Then a branch snapped back into place and Maze continued on her way, the errant limb smacking Jaeriko across the face. That was going to leave a welt. She rubbed at her skin and felt the gummy sap work its way farther into the rising abrasion. Great-she didn't have time to clean it now, so she'd have to let it go until morning-until after the job. By then, it would be nice and sore.

'Why doesn't he just do it himself? He's obviously powerful enough,' Jaeriko asked, rubbing at the rising bump on her cheek. Maze's scorn burned more than the welt, and she dropped her hand.

'If you'd asked that question yourself before you invited him into my home, we might not be in this mess,' Maze snapped. When Jaeriko colored but did not rise to the bait, Maze sighed. 'Do you know what they say about the good General of Reth, our beloved patron? They say he's more like the devils of Arrabar than us … Turned for