Legends of the Nentir Vale

Into the Night

Lion...A man's best friend

Marius trusted the spell he had cast to keep him attached to Winterhaven’s outer wall. He had seen Kovas use it several times, and thought it would be useful. He crept within six feet of the top and relaxed, waiting to hear Delvin activate his handy new toy. He heard the shuffle and clank of the guards walking along the top of the wall. The night absorbed the duskblade’s dark grey cloak and made him all but invisible.

He chewed the inside of his lip, pondering the events of the last hour. What was Armand doing coming furtively out the back door of a house in Winterhaven’s merchant district? Had he seen through the beard and ratty cloak and spotted their father’s blue eyes and thick nose before Marius had fallen and turned his face away like a scared peasant?

He could find out. Once he cleared the wall, it couldn’t be terribly hard to run down a slow-moving luxury carriage — the only way his family ever traveled. But he couldn’t do that — couldn’t leave town at all — until he made a decision. After all his pouting and brooding, though, it ended up pretty simple. His original family ended up a total loss, and this was his new family. He was done going through life letting Armos Kamroth defile every relationship he had. It’d be better to die trusting them than to live as a shriveled husk. These were his brothers now.

The screams of terrified horses coming from the stables startled him back to full attention. He watched, listened to the guards’ reaction, which became especially entertaining after the angry roar of some kind of hunting cat came bursting out into the night. Marius took a deep breath, coiled his muscles, and sprang! Up the six feet to the walkway… rolling across the narrow pathway… and neatly down and onto the other side. Zoltan’s brother had been right — this spell was AMAZING! After a few seconds to pause and check to see if he’d been spotted, he scrabbled his way down to the ground. Finding his bearings, he took off at a trot to the southwest.

Armand Kamroth might not be his brother anymore, but he only had an hour’s head start. He would find him.


jbproctor jbproctor

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