Standing among warriors, delegates and trainers are Vladimir Mihaylov and Iron Mauler. They make eye contact in the briefest acknowledgement. They have known each other only well enough to share respect. They did, after all, share the same Trainer, and it was to that one that they both returned their attention. Their trainer. It was he who had asked them to come to this place and meeting. They were both honored to be asked.

In the frey of people, beasts and weaponry their trainer stood, a man of age beyond guessing. He is small, almost naught but a shell, yet there are no questions about his presence. It would be it's lack that raised questions. It is as obvious that he belongs, as it is sure that he won't be one sent forth. He is here to make sure that others, the best others, are sent. He is, simply and greatly, a Trainer. To some, The Trainer.

Watching him, both Vlad and Iron Mauler are filled with pride and reassured of their own capabilities, and as was natural to them follow their Trainer's que -- they are the first to notice the sound of approaching marching feet...


A huge double-door pushes open and three of the Principle Kings enter together with their guard.

Vlad and Mauler recognize the Kings as King Northan begins, "My people, we are told that you are best of us all. So you are here, at this grave moment, to have the rumors confirmed." The King paused to swollow grief for his friend, Amod. He continued, "Some days ago King Amod of Mana was found dead, and his people have installed an Unknown without investigation. If this were not queer enough, our fears have been confirmed with the return of Barean, The Spy. We now know that King Amod was murdered. His throat slashed and body thrown in Blood River!"

A collective gasp followed Amod's last statement. He was glad. The people should be shocked, and it glad him moments to collect his pain.

Another King interceded. His voice higher in pitch, but as resolute in concern. "The Mananian people have not asked for investigation! More, we are told that a fog hangs over their minds and memory! That a new king already sits on Amod's thrown and all is taken for granted. However, this new king is not one of Amod's line. This one is An Unknown. An Unsworn. And mostly likely an Untrained."

The sudden stench of sweat entered the space, and despite the brave and powerful audience, fear began to creep throughout the gathering.

The third King began slower and lower, "So, this gathering claims the most urgent purpose: We MUST determine the meaning behind these events, the where of Amod's Right, and confirm or secure it. At any cost The Balance must be preserved."

A round of acknoledgedments rippled through the assembly and then Northan with a firmed back continued, "Thus, some shall be sent forth, but most will remain. Those who remain must show steadfast peace. We are determined not to cause anguish among the people. So we ask that you return home with purpose: lend peace by your courage, but prepare for battle."

Northan's comments faded leaving only a painful stillness interrupted by the sound of shifting feet unaccustomed to nerves. After a breath he continued, "If you've remained untapped, than we ask that you return home with urgency. Those who received the mark are to stay." In moments, the sounds of departing peoples, animals and weapons were deafening. The noise continued for some time.

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Neither Vladimir Mihaylov or Iron Mauler had been tapped, but both remained still. Neither wanted to be excluded from this heartof activity. As fewer and fewer remained, Vlad and Mauler found themselves near their trainer and one another. Then, from behind, both felt a gentle tap of shoulder. The Kings had waited and observed. It was the ones who'd remained, the still and cautious ones, the ones who wanted this quest in their bones that were then tapped.

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No one had been tapped before the greater mass had departed, but now both Vlad and Mauler where.

So, too, were the others that the Kings commissioned. Although they didn't know one another, yet....

Then suddenly, a sound so loud it overwhelmed the mind surrounded them, and then consciousness was gone.

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In his last moments of awareness, Iron Mauler prays to strengthen his armor. He feels his skin burn and then cool. He smiles. Then nothing.

Next to him Vlad's mind tried desperately to hang on to the world. He tried to speak, but it comes out a breath as he slips away.

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Sometime later, with eyes yet opened, Mauler whispers, "What has happened?"

The is no answer.

Finally, he pushes open his eyes, seeing only haze. Then to his left a movement, and he turns his head to see the most beautiful woman of his experience.

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Vlad's return to consciousness was an awareness that his ears were ringing. He was unable to make out the meaning of the whispered words next to him, but his instincts were true. With unbelievable swiftness he grabs for a stone remembered as dropped near him. Instantly, he realizes his mind is filled with foreign tongues! Languages he has never known are making up his thoughts! As rapidly as be became aware, he threw the stone to Mauler.

As the stone leaves his hand Vlad, sees the most beautiful woman in existence. She is standing above him with long dark blue hair blowing in an unknown breeze and curves like the best of dwarven architecture. Her eyes are an unfathomable, cold blue.

Mauler picks the stone out of the air and feels his skin go hot with contact. Then he cools, and he knows that something is different, and in that difference he sees the world as if looking through a jaggers eyes. Hidden, stalking and fierce.

They are both looking at the woman, anticipation gripping them. She is extraordinary in appearence, but her presence causes unease. In the background they hear screaming and the sound of metal scraping stone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My name is Violet," she smiles, "and now, you both owe me."

"What in the name of the King has happened?" Mauler demands. Then, hearing himself he softens toward the woman. She smiles again, withholding a response. Not caring for these games Mauler continues, "WHAT THE HELL SORT OF TRICK DID YOU PULL ON US? WHO ARE YOU? AND WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE THRICE-DAMNED GODS DID YOU DO TO THE GATHERING?"