The man lay on the ground, snoring loudly. So loudly, in fact, the thief skulking in the trees barely even had to try and be quiet as he stole up to the bags laying near the man. Pawing through the bags, the thief, Will Scarlet, chewed his lip, tossing aside things he didn't need like too-big clothes and alcohol. Finishing, he had one satchel full of food and gold that the man had likely stolen from other hapless travellers. Satisfied with his catch, Will started creeping away.

"HEY!"

Will had made a very serious mistake. He'd stolen from the man, thinking he'd been stealing from one person--when really there were two. Cursing his mistake under his breath, Will picked up speed just a second too late. The second man brought him to the ground with a flying leap. "Hold him!" the man who had been sleeping shouted.

Will squirmed, trying to escape the man's grasp, but the man had him pinned to the ground by kneeling on his legs and shoving his arms against the cold dirt. "Let's show him what we do to thieves, shall we?" The first man smiled in an unpleasant way.

Although Will struggled and fought, he could do nothing to stop them from dragging him to a nearby tree and tying him up with some rope they had. With a sinking heart, he watched them produce a deadly-looking whip from among their baggage--something Will probably should have cut up when he'd seen it. Apparently, he'd stolen from the wrong bandits.

"Don't beat him too much. Slaves can be sold for a good profit in some areas," the second man warned him.

"Nobody would want such a skinny scarecrow." With that, the man started whipping Will. For a brief moment, he managed not to cry out, but it was a short moment. Startling pain struck with each lash of the whip, and he yelled in pain.

"What have we here?" Abruptly, the beating stopped. With some effort, Will raised his head and saw a brown haired girl standing not far from them, her doe-like brown eyes wide. "Eh, ignore her. She's a street rat, from the looks of her." Again, the man raised the whip over Will.

Will felt the energy explode from the girl in a silent shout. The magic rippled over him with no effect, but it sent the two men flying backwards. They hit the ground with loud thuds and didn't move.

The girl met Will's eyes with a vague smile before her own brown eyes rolled into the back of her head and collapsed.

Will cursed. He'd been hoping she would untie him. As it was, it took him about twenty minutes to reach the knife hidden under his shirt and cut himself loose.

This accomplished, Will dragged his bleeding form over to the girl and touched her forehead. She was still breathing, but her skin was burning hot. She'd dropped the book she had been clutching to her chest, and several pages had fallen out of the tattered tome.

It was obvious she'd need some form of medical attention, and Will wasn't much better. Unwilling to leave her with the two bandits, he lifted her in his arms, grunting. If he remembered correctly, an old friend lived nearby. Iereth Rivensteil. Will hadn't seen him in a year, but he knew Reth was good with medicines. If anyone could help Will and the girl, it would be him. And chances were, he wouldn't even charge Will, if he knew his old friend at all.

With a destination firmly in mind, Will trudged off in the direction of Iereth's home.

--------------------------

"Ow! Get off me, ye big fool!"

"I would, if you'd get your elbow out of my stomach!" was the answer.

For a brief moment, there was a flurry of limbs and several thuds as the two young men attempted to stand up. Finally, they were separated and the shorter of the two giggled in a very undignified way. "I wish I could have seen that," Morgan said, still giggling. "We probably looked very undignified!"

Gerald glared at him. "Ye never look dignified, mate." With a look of disgust, he looked around. "Blimey, I thought Andreas said translocating was a gentle process!"

"Well, either he was lying or we didn't end up where he thought we would," Morgan answered.

"Where are we?"

"A room, I assume," Morgan chirped.

"A room in a castle," Gerald corrected him. "Let's have a look around, eh?"

"Shouldn't we wait here for Andreas?" Morgan asked, frowning with concern.

"Ye can if ye'd like, but I want to know where we be," Gerald replied. "Andreas'll probably turn up. C'mon, mate." With that, the insane mercenary went out the door, drawing his massive broadsword from its cradle on his back as he went.

"I'd rather not," Morgan muttered, but Gerald wasn't leaving him much of a choice. With a sigh, he followed after him.

-----------------------------

"The king requests that you change your mind, Lady Andric."

"The king can take his requests and leave me alone," Rachel Andric answered, frowning. "I'm not fighting in any war, certainly not for him, or for anyone else."

"You may come to regret that, Lady Andric," the servant warned her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Might I remind you that you are in my house, invited in by me. And guests don't go about threatening the lives of their hosts. So I'm going to give you a deal. Leave, and I won't make you regret threatening me, do you understand?"

Paling, the servant quickly backed out of the house and ran away. Rachel watched him go with a frown. She knew that this business with the king likely wouldn't end well for her. Looking about her house, she felt her eyes fill with tears and quickly dashed them away. There was no time for reminiscing. If she wanted to hold on to her life, she would have to run away.

Quickly, Rachel filled a bag with the essentials and belted her sword around her hip. After fastening her cloak around her throat, she took one last look around her former home and hurried out the door. It would do her no good to stand around when she needed to put as much distance between herself and the king as possible.

------------------------

Elaine Silvereye lowered herself through the window into the house. If she wanted to find her twin sister, then she would have to bring herself to her level--and that basically meant breaking into any house that seemed to have any sort of wealth in it. That was what Elsa would do, at least.

Carefully, Elaine looked around. Her instincts had been right. This house seemed to have some objects of value in it. That would give her enough money to continue surviving until she found Elsa.

-------------------------

"Ramsey!"

"What?" Ramsey Andarsen muttered, not bothering to glance up from his book.

"If I told ye once, I told ye a thousand times!"

The elderly gentleman took a deep breath. She was at it again, whatever it was. He couldn't spend one day without irritating her in some way or another.

"What is it now, Elspeth?" he asked, his expression deepening into a frown. He'd been frowning a lot lately, and it wasn't just because of his wife. Ramsey was bored. Life just wasn't the same as it used to be. It didn't have that sense of adventure, of danger lurking around every dark corner. Ah, those were the days. He missed scouting out distant cities and gathering dirt on the king's enemies. But the agency had made it clear: Ramsey had become far too old for espionage. The most he could do was support the war effort from afar.

"Ramsey, are ye even listenin' to me?!" She snatched the book from her husband's hands, holding it just out of his reach.

"No." It perhaps wasn't the smartest thing to say, but Ramsey prided himself on his honesty. Too bad he never got rewarded for it. "Ow!"

"Serves ye right, ye blasted ol' coot! Now, what do ye think's happenin' out there? The villagers are gatherin' fer some reason or another!"

"Why don't ye go out and see?" Ramsey asked with a sigh, rubbing the top of his head. He made a mental note to only read paperbacks while in the presence of his wife.

Elspeth snorted, placing her hands on her hips. "Ye've just been sittin' around all day. Do somethin' with yer life for a change." Ramsey thought it wise not to mention that Elspeth had also been sitting around all day.

"Come on, love. It can't be that important, can it?" He asked, groaning as he lifted himself up – with some effort – from the loveseat. "I mean, nothin' interesting has happened in this town fer years."

"Well, it sure is happenin' now, so get off yer fat-"

"Elspeth. Calm down. Or at least get away from the china cabinet."

The old woman made a face, adjusting the hem of her floral apron. She didn't bother straightening the wire spectacles that were constantly sliding down her bony nose; what was the point, if they'd just fall askew again? Elspeth didn't believe in overdoing anything. Especially not her cooking. That woman liked it rare.

"I'll get away from the china cabinet when I'm good an' ready."

Ramsey sighed. "Ye know better'n I do what happens when you get angry."

"Get out there and see what's goin' on. Or you'll get what's comin' to ye!" The elderly woman hissed, eyes flashing. Ramsey thought it best not to anger her further; there were some family heirlooms in that cabinet.

"Fine, let's see what all the fuss is," he told her gently, snatching his book back and placing it carefully on the edge of the coffee table. "Ye owe me, Elspeth."

"Fat chance!" He heard her retort as he pulled the door closed behind him.

-------------------------

Dorrie banished her invisibility spell and followed the tall red-haired young man, keeping her distance. It was not the man she was interested in, for in her way of thinking, men were only good for one thing. No, it was the girl he carried in his arms who she wanted. Having witnessed the unexpected display of power, she knew that the girl would make a fine new apprentice for her. It had been a long time since she had last had the pleasure of training a new apprentice and things had not worked out so well for her in the meantime. A shiver of delight ran through her at the thought of working with this girl.

--------------------------

Andreas broke out of his meditative trance and snapped his eyes open, having sensed the approach of his beloved wife. She gave him one of her special smiles and set his rucksack and document case down on the sand. "I hope ye enjoy yer vacation, me love" she said, leaning down to hug him. "Just try and keep Gerald and Morgan outa trouble, eh? Seems every time ye go off on a jaunt with them, they manage to get caught up in something".

Andreas chuckled. "Aye, Anni, ye be right there. Them two seem to attract trouble wherever they go. Ah, well, I suppose I'd best be catching up with them. Merge with me and help me track their mind signatures".

She sat on the sand opposite him, their crossed legs touching at the knee. She placed her hands on the sides of his head, just above his ears and he did the same to her. Soon they were locked in a mind merge, searching for traces of the mercenary, Gerald Hunt, and the rather clumsy sorcerer, Morgan.

"Got them!" Andreas announced, breaking the trance. "Though why they've ended up there, tis anyone's guess". He gave Anwyn a firm hug and goodbye kiss before dressing in his favourite checked suit and brown sandals.

"Safe travels and a problem-free vacation, me love" Anwyn said, giving him one last kiss before he translocated away.

----------------------------

A moment later, Andreas arrived at the castle. "Another castle" he muttered to himself, looking around at the stone walls. The castle was in an unfamiliar land on a planet which he had only vaguely heard of in passing. It was far from their intended destination, so something must have gone wrong with Morgan's attempt at translocation.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, seeking out their mind signatures. At this distance, they were easy to pick up without having to use his wife's powers to boost his own abilities. He quickened his pace, hoping that he would catch up with them before they managed to find trouble.

--------------------------

Oh dear. This was not good. Not good at all. Ben bit his lip and tapped his fingers on his hip. His eyes flitted from one corpse to another and then to the turned over wagon with gleaming goodies inside. A bandit raid gone wrong? Something of the sort certainly had happen. Best he not stay too long. He couldn't just leave them there.

Ben walked over to the wagon and attempted to lift it.

CRACK !

He stopped and grabbed his back. He was over a hundred years old, but his body had only aged twenty. But no matter. This was a many person job. Many as in four.. five... A six person job.

Ben waved his hands and yelled at a few ghosts. The ghosts took over the five corpses and everyone happily helped Ben turn the wagon upright. Ben then motioned for them all to climb aboard and toss the goodies out to make room for himself. With another melodic chant and a twirl of his fingers (which was completely useless), a couple skeletal horses were pulling the wagon along to the nearest graveyard where the poor blokes could be properly buried.

------------------------------

Iereth rubbed his head for the fifth time. He then pulled on his hair till he could see the bright green ends. Green! He dyed his hair green of all colors! And his spell meant to reorder the books on their shelves had failed as well. Not that he had high hopes in its success. It took an hour of chanting, and not a single book moved. If it weren't for the safety curse on his hair, he could have lost half the house. Maybe even his head. For now, he'd manage with green hair.

"Reth!" A familiar voice called.

Iereth froze. His silver eyes darted to the door. No. It couldn't be!

"Reth! Are you home? It's Will. Something serious happened!"

Iereth gulped and looked about. He grabbed the nearest thing he could find, a thick red rug, and tossed it over his head like a hood. He then came to the door and opened it enough to see Will and the girl in his arms. She was unconscious and Will did not look well himself.

"Will!" Iereth yelled, tossing the door open and his makeshift hood aside. "Come in! Come in!"

Will paused, regarding his hair before he entered the house. Iereth noticed the wounds on his back and nervously asked, "Do you want me to heal that? With magic or medicine?"

------------------------------

For a long moment, Will regarded Iereth and his new hairdo, distracted from his pain and misery. It took him a moment to realize what his friend had said. "Preferably medicine," he said. The last thing he needed was green hair like Reth's. "Do--do you think you can take her? She's awfully heavy." Quickly, Iereth took the unconscious girl from him and laid her in a bed.

As for Will, he stood for a moment, leaning heavily on the door frame. Then he sank down to the floor, still conscious, but only just. Leaning his head against the door, he mumbled, "Magic gone wrong again, eh, Reth?"

Iereth was bustling around the room, gathering his various medicines--Will really hoped he wasn't going to have to drink one of his vile concoctions--and paid Will's question no mind. As he knelt beside Will to start tending to his back, Will grabbed his shirt and, hauling himself up, whispered to Iereth. "Someone's been following me. I think they want the--the girl." Before Iereth could question him further, Will's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slipped into sweet unconsciousness.

-----------------------------

Morgan was regaling Gerald with stories of how to use proper caution--most of them with Morgan as the person not using proper caution--but Gerald was largely ignoring him. There was something a little off in this place, and he couldn't determine what it was. The sooner they could find Andreas, the sooner they could leave.

Morgan stopped talking abruptly and grabbed for his book just a moment too late. The hallway they had been walking down went dark, and that chilling feeling crawled up Gerald's spine. "Mate?" he said to Morgan. For once, Morgan said nothing. "I think we be in trouble."

Hindustani spies... The voice came from around them, echoing in Gerald's mind. As he listened, his massive sword was torn from his hands. He heard it clatter to the floor.

Morgan grabbed his arm. "We're in trouble," he agreed.

Something wrapped around Gerald's ankle and yanked him to the floor. Slamming into the hard stone, Gerald glanced in Morgan's direction. "Fire," he said as he felt whatever had him start to pull him backwards. "Summon fire, ye great idiot!"

Maybe not the most inspiring call to war, but it worked. Morgan's hands lit up with flames--he could do that without his spellbook--and the tendril around Gerald's ankle dissipated. A quick look around showed nothing. His broadsword lay in the corner. He grabbed it up as he and Morgan fled down the stairs. "What's Hindustani?" Morgan asked as they ran.

"I dunno," Gerald answered, "and I don't aim to stay 'round and find out!"