A small merchant caravel on a long voyage from Sol City crossed a small bay along the Misty Coast of King’s Valley. The expanse of rolling hills and open plains came into view on the horizon. Dalanor leaned over the port side of the ship and put his hand to his brow to block out the sun to get a better look.

The port came into view. It was a small village, consisting of a few buildings and some farmhouses up atop the hills in the distance. The villagers were a mix of folk, mostly fisherman and farmers who lived on this edge of the Misty Coast where the plains met the bay. The land here was still a good distance from Zeinav desert but further inland was hard to irrigate. The soil away from the bay was tough and dry and the yields were low. The people who lived here were hardy folk who lived off a combination of the land and the sea. They paid no heed to the merchants passing through, despite the possible wealth it might bring them, and for good reason. It was a rare sight to see a settlement in King’s Valley, even one as small as the fishing village, and that wasn’t a coincidence. They survived by staying small and keeping to themselves. Ships that came in from afar were the business of the clans who roamed and ruled the plains. The villagers had no interest in meddling in that business. The villagers who weren’t busy with harvest were out on their rowboats on that cool, clear day, tending to nets and lines which they could efficiently set and revisit each day with little oversight. A few looked up curiously at the caravel with billowing white sails, as it cruised in carrying Dalanor Zai hanging halfway over the bow.

Despite being a small ship by Sol City standards, the caravel was the largest ship in sight, and it made a few heads turn. The ship would moor here for the night, unload their wares and rest up, then set off early the next morning or once the winds were good. The marina, if it could be called that, was a single long dock that extended from the shore out to the bay. The dock was raised a few feet above the high tide line, and as the ship sailed in closer, Dalanor could now make out the faces of clansmen waiting for their arrival. These were a rough, tough looking bunch, covered in tattoos, hides and leather, their mouths and faces drawn tight in serious disposition. They weren’t Dalanor’s concern today.

Dalanor didn’t have much coin, so he secured his passage the way some did - as an able bodied deckhand. Today was the final day of his service, much to the dismay of some of the crew who enjoyed being magically hoisted up to the crow’s nest. He didn’t shirk in his duties for the day, but he was back in full wizard garb, and per his agreement with the captain he would disembark as soon as they came ashore. As they pulled up to the dock, a long gangway planck was lowered and immediately the crew and clansmen set to work carrying crates and barrels of goods to the dock where they would be counted and inspected before being carted off in horse drawn wagons. Dalanor said his goodbyes to the boatswain with a firm handshake and a smile, who responded with concern and asked him thrice if he was sure this was where he wanted to get off. He then waved goodbye to the captain who was intently watching the crew upload while marking off his cargo manifest. The captain’s eyes were intent on the scroll unfurled in his hands but he looked up over the rim of his glasses as the blue garbed wizard waved and he acknowledged Dalanor with a nod and a tip of his hat.

Dalanor set off down the dock, his long blue coat whipping behind him as a dry crosswind blew in from the plains. The road to Thunderhoof would be very difficult on foot, but he knew these lands were an equestrian culture and first needed to earn some solars to buy a horse. At the end of the dock he stopped by a bulletin board and picked out a small clipping. It was a listing for an extra farmhand, first week without pay, but it would at least give him a place to sleep and two warm meals a day to start. Some directions were scrawled on the back of the clipping and Dalanor noted them and looked around to get his bearings. He looked towards the position of the sun and then back down at directions on the note, then set off towards the farm.

---

Reap what we sow

Harvest season had arrived once again, and Zinnia would have tepid interest in the yearly proceedings, the only thing keeping her enthusiasm alive being the additional allowance she could look forward to for assisting with the farm work. L'atio could already sense that it was going to be a long and boring day, and considered how best to keep the girl's focus on the tasks at hand given that her reward would be based on merit this time around.

The road to the farm was uneventful for the most part. While there were insects everywhere, that was to be expected when the girl had taken a shortcut through the forest rather than the open air roads paved through multitudes of steps.

Once Zinnia arrived, she would immediately head for the storeroom since this wasn't her first rodeo, and equipped herself with a straw hat to defend against the blazing sun, gloves to separate her skin from the slime and grime, a sickle to cut grass with, and a basket hoisted on her back to carry the harvests. Now with a semblance of a life goal, the girl had some motivation to do well this time around, though nowhere near enough to dispel the preemptively loaded dread that emanated from her being which stemmed from her past experiences. Farm work absolutely sucked for the child, and she was certain everyone would loved it was just lying to get her to work on it.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Reap what we sow
Participants: Two or more
Location: Anywhere
Post Requirements: 5 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: The Black Harvest is upon us, the time of year where the crops are harvested and families prepare for Winter's Crown. The recent events in Charon has made it hard to dedicate time and people to the harvest, as many are still recovering from the events in King's Valley. Local cities are asking for outside help to come in and help collect the harvest. This includes harvesting the crop, cleaning up debris and helping move it to a safe storage facility. While the task may seem easy, pesky creatures may have claimed the crop as home and may be a tad grumpy to find you disturbing them.

Dalanor approached the farm and knocked on the door with the clipping from the billboard in hand. He heard the sound of shuffling movement inside - a wooden chair creaking and rubbing against the floor, then footsteps coming towards the door. The door opened, revealing a clean shaven dark haired man with short cropped hair and overalls. One arm was wrapped in bandages from hand up to his elbow and held up in a sling across his chest. His other hand went to a long piece of sweet grass in his mouth. He pulled it out and eyed the clipping in Dalanor’s hand and smiled.

“Looks like we got ourselves another one. You don’t look like you’re from around here, but appreciate you helping out. As you can see, we can use the extra help.” The man tapped his bandages with the blade of grass.

“Well, sunlight is a-wasting, if you want to get started grab yourself a hat, gloves, sickle and basket over in that storeroom over there.” He motioned with the grass to a large barn a short distance away. “See you again at supper at sundown, then show to your bunk after. Sound good?”

Dalanor nodded and the farmer gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder with the sweetgrass then closed the door. Dalanor shrugged then headed off towards the storeroom. He found a hook where he could hang his long jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He found a straw hat which he put on his head and a basket he hung from his back. He donned a pair of rawhide gloves and grabbed a sickle then headed out under the blazing sun. He was already a bit thirsty from the walk from the port, and had hoped to at least be invited inside for some small conversation and hydration, but this would have to do.

Dalanor headed out into the field, spotting a few workers nearby and decided to head towards another section. He didn’t want many people around to see his magic, it sometimes drew the wrong attention. He rounded a hill and looked around, spotting no one except a young girl who seemed to be intent and focused on her work. He gently whispered arcane words and the sickle hovered in place. He pulled the basket from behind his back and held it underneath, following behind the sickle as it swung and he caught the cleaved stalks in the basket.

---

Telekinesis

The girl had only just begun her work and already she wanted out of this chore, inwardly grumbling and yapping about every single inconvenience she encountered to her secret teacher, who could do naught but listen and try to conceal his growing disdain for the precocious child. Not even the presence of another farmhand with blue hair - odd as it was and clearly foreign - could do much to curb her detestation for the levels of physical labour involved in this endeavour... until she happened upon a glimpse of the man's sickle moving on its own.

What's that? The girl couldn't help but ask, if having enough courtesy to at least keep it in her head rather than verbalize it.
Telekinesis. A spell that allows you to move and lift things around so long as it is roughly the same size as your being and visible in your field of vision. L'atio answered almost immediately, seeing an opportunity to drive the girl's train of thought away from the litany of whining she had been on.
Teach me that. Now. It looked so much cooler to swing the sickle with magic, and less exerting to boot, which all but screamed best of both worlds to the ignorant child.
No. He already had little desire to entertain her with the amount of disrespect she was demonstrating, but more importantly, the degree of concentration required to maintain the spell for long periods of time was far beyond what the child was capable of, considering the nature of the task she desired to employ its use against.
No? What do you mean, 'no'? The child's hands had stopped, clenched into fists and expression outwardly dripping with anger.
You will only exhaust yourself faster with this spell. Trust me. He was certain she wouldn't, but it's not like she had any means of forcing the knowledge out of him anyway, so it didn't really matter in his view.

Hmph. Fine. I'll go ask him then. Undeterred, she turned her face away so that the stranger wouldn't see her face and stuck out her tongue in childish petulance.

With that, Zinnia would get up from her spot, walk towards the stranger, and be so straightforward with her greeting and request that one would think she were attempting to take refuge in audacity.
"Hi, I'm Zinnia! I couldn't help but notice your floating sickle and I was wondering if you could teach me how to do that?" She said with a greedy smile.

Dalanor was hyper focused on maintaining the movement of the floating sickle, a repeated half spin, lift, weave and bob. It required his full attention to perform, akin to directing a dance or an orchestra rather than conducting manual labor. Despite this, he was fairly content with this use of his magic. If not for the blazing sun overhead, he might even find this activity therapeutically satisfying.

He noticed Zinnia began to approach from the corner of his eye and his concentration wavered slightly, temporarily slowing the dance of the sickle. When he picked this spot he hadn’ expected the child to be perceptive enough to notice exactly what was going on over here. In retrospect, not anticipating that curiosity was definitely an oversight. As Zinnia walked up to him, he halted the spell which abruptly ended with a flop into the tall grasses.

As Zinnia addressed him he knelt down on one knee to roughly level himself with her height. Her orange dye matted hair splayed out from under the straw hat. In the glint of the sun he thought he spotted a few flecks of cyan in her brown eyes, and he raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips to one side. Her age was on that boundary where sometimes youthful curiosity crosses over into uncertainty, but her combination of curiosity and boldness was a sign Dalanor had seen before, in those auspiciously inclined for the arcane arts.

“So you have an interest in magic? I might be able to help with that, but first, introductions! I’m Dalanor Zai of Capitol Landing, pleased to meet you Zinnia.” Dalanor tipped his straw hat in greeting and presented his soft smile, the toothless type where his eyes squinted and his cheeks puffed.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dalanor Zai!" The girl replied perkily at the prospect of a new teacher, her brain now giddy at the very thought of learning magic and rubbing it in L'atio's face. Nothing like the supreme confidence of a child who did not understand the efforts of others, in this case L'atio, to keep her world running normally. In fact, L'atio had been wondering if he had been spoiling the child too much as of late. This ought to be a spectacle, then.

Alas, it seemed that the two (three) were not the only living creatures present in the farm as the wheat stalks in the distance began to ruffle and from its cover did a canine abomination with filthy, elongated claws, mouth salivating with unmitigated bloodlust. The beast immediately shot towards Zinnia, sensing her to be the weaker prey among the two, and in her foolishness the girl would attempt to instinctively craft a bolt of fire before L'atio yelled at her.
Are you trying to set the fields on fire, child!? His voice was scathingly accusatory as he released the reins over her mana, preventing her from performing any proper magic.
But there's a Barghest! The girl was now utterly terrified at the bared fangs and the damage it might portend.

Look in front of you, child. Imagine yourself standing safe over here. The spirit's voice was commanding, if steeped in annoyance at having to save the girl despite her own foolishness. Zinnia did just that, and an instant later the Barghest found itself biting on thin air as the former now stood a short distance away from where she was, behind her assailant.[1]

---

See here for info on the Barghest:-
talesofcharon.proboards.com/post/36038

[1]Blink
Space Domain spell

SPOILER: Click to show

This spell allows you to move your body a short distance through space itself. By blinking you can teleport yourself a short distance to a location you can currently see. This removes your body from space and causes it to reappear in the new location. You can not be intercept mid teleport and will not appear inside an object. This can not be used to move to a location if you can not see that location. Blink has a cooldown on your body and can not be used for two post after being used.

Dalanor jumped to his feet and cursed under his breath at the sudden sight of the Barghest.

"Zinnia, get back—" Dalanor began to yell, but in the blink of an eye she was gone. He spotted her a short distance away and raised an eyebrow.

Did she just…No, no time for that now.

Dalanor returned his focus back to the Barghest which shifted to the nearest target - him. With a flick of his wrist he lifted up his sickle laying in the grass into the air. He twirled his finger in a full rotation which set the sickle spinning and pointed it in the direction of the beast. The sharp blade sung through the air, cutting through stalks on the way to the target. It was a bit of a longshot. The barghest was fast and the stalks slowed down the blade.

As Dalanor watched the trajectory of the flying sickle he held his breath in anticipation. Another curse escaped his lips as the beast narrowly dodged to the side with a heinous, hellish growl. It wasn’t a complete miss. The attack did not mortally wound the creature, but the blade cut a long gash along the Barghest torso. It was now panting hard, and it looked angry.

Dalanor braced for the incoming beast, hoping those fangs weren’t as sharp as they looked.

---

Telekinesis

SPOILER: Click to show

You warp space around an object, giving you the ability to lift or move that object with your mind. You can target any object that is roughly the same size as yourself and one that you can see when casting the spell. You can then move that object around, lifting it up, moving it from side to side or even using the object for its intended purpose. You do not need to physically touch the object and can move it around as long as you can see it.

<talesofcharon.proboards.com/thread/28/magic-shop-space-domain>

W-what? The girl hadn't the slightest idea what just happened, but she was now standing a few paces away from where she was.
L'atio, what just- No time for that now, child! Turn around! It would be in his best interests for the girl to not understand the extent of his influence over her, and she was still very much in danger since Blink only allowed for short-distance travel, and it cannot be done in quick succession without specialization.

Turning around, Zinnia would see Dalanor squaring off with the Barghest, the sickle dancing and slicing away at the surroundings as it moved to deliver its edge to the voracious beast, successfully introducing a long gash along the latter's torso. However, the man was very much in range of the now enraged canine and threatened to harm her fellow one-day colleague. Needless to say, she was desperate to try and help him, but she only knew fire.
Time for an impromptu lesson, child. The girl hadn't enough attunement to the other elements yet, so L'atio had little choice but to have her tap into the very world for this spell. It would be a lot of strain for a barely-trained apprentice like her, but he will make sure she delivers even if it costs them both.
Open your senses to the energies around you. Do you feel it? The autumn winds billowing and carrying the essences of life. The earth feeding its nutrients to the harvest around you. The water coursing within the plants themselves. What would you like to introduce to the Barghest? His mind's voice was eerily gentle, belying the murderous intent he was about to have her unleash on the creature.
An orb of raw magical energy coalesced and formed in her outstretched hand, then a straight, thick beam shot forth[1], hurtling at intense speeds towards the Barghest and pushing it away as it made impact. As the magic left her hand, her magically-imbued clothing would respond to her mana signature and cause cutting winds to blow in all directions, sculpting a few more cuts onto the Barghest's skin and sending the surrounding grain and grass into the air dramatically.[2]

Zinnia's eyes blurred immediately after, and she found herself collapsing to the ground and her sense fading, leaving her unable to witness whatever came next.

---

[1]Chromatic Blast (Wind)
Space Domain Spell

SPOILER: Click to show

You draw forth the energies from the world around you, tapping into the other domains outside of your own. You may choose one of the eight magic domain types ( Fire, Earth, Wind, Ice, Water, Lightning, Light or Dark) then create a medium sized orb of raw magic in your hand. You then fire forth a beam of magical energy, its damage type being the one you chose. This will be a medium sized beam that can be fired at medium ranges.
-Deals damage equal to the type chosen-

[2]Cultist's Robes (clothing)

SPOILER: Click to show

Umbral robes often worn by cultists and devout followers of blasphemous religions and ideals. These robes have been sewn with powerful enchantments woven into every stich, designed to act as a conduit to power delivered from an elder being. While wearing these robes, your entire body has become an offering towards a god, belief or cosmic entity of your choice. When you cast a spell that does elemental damage, your entire body becomes temporarily shrouded in that element, creating a ten foot aura in all directions from your body. Enemies inside this range as the spell is cast will also take minor damage equal to the spells element. This aura can only deal one type of damage at a time, if a spell you cast as multiple elemental damage types, you must choose which one the aura becomes.

Dalanor blinked a few times in disbelief as the beam of energy shot forth and slammed into the Barghest. It howled and immediately collapsed to the ground. He paused for a few moments in stunned silence, wondering if it was truly gone.

The beast laid still.

Dalanor looked over to the crumpled Zinnia then ran the short distance over and looked down at her. He furrowed his brow and rubbed his beard in thought.

I'm surprised to see magic like this in one so young... He thought to himself.

He hoped her collapse was from depletion of her energy reserves and not more serious. He didn't have anything to remedy the situation, and contemplated carrying her to the farmhouse until she recovered.

The farmer must have overheard the commotion and came running over the hill, pitchfork in hand. Dalanor looked up and watched as he ran over, and the thought now crossed his mind if the injury which caused the farmer to have his other arm in a sling was due to the very beast they just vanquished.

The farmer stopped a short distance from the duo (trio), breathing heavily from the run.

"I came as soon as I heard that wicked howl! Where is it?! Did you get it?! Wait, what happened to the kid?!"

Dalanor narrowed his eyes. "Did you post those advertisements for help with no warning, while knowing you have Barghests on your lands?" 

The farmer gulped. "Well, all the locals know better... so I knew we'd attract some adventuring folk like yourself who can take care of themselves... Wait, the girl, you don't think she's.. she's not..." the farmer's voice trailed off and his eyes widened.

Dalanor scowled. "No, she should be fine, I think. The least you could do is bring us some water."

The farmer nodded and ran back off to the farmhouse. Dalanor looked down again at the collapsed Zinnia, wondering if she would regain consciousness soon.

Visions of a large hall adorned with the most regal of architecture Zinnia had ever seen in her life spanned in front of her blurry eyes, her mind accepting this ancient scenery as normal due to the mechanism of subconscious dreams making them so. The grand hall was filled with people dressed in outfits she hadn't the knowledge to recognize the style, nor the words used to describe them. The words spoken made no sense to her ignorant brain, a language long lost to the sands of time. That there were no faces to the figures standing in front of her only added to the strangeness, and yet she found herself a passive observer simply going with the flow. A voice that was not hers spoke with a dispassionate, masculine tone, the footfalls somewhat flighty as though desiring escape from this farce of a function as fast as possible, yet elegant and controlled so as to not outwardly betray the intentions of its creator. Eventually, the view stopped shifting and a feminine figure in the most elaborately sewn dress the girl had ever laid her beady eyes on stood in front of her, and spoke thus:-
"Wake up."
Huh? Wake up from what?
"You do not belong here. Wake up."
At that instant, everything began twisting as though they were all sandy mirages and became horribly foreign to the child who now possessed the unfortunate insight that this entire sequence of events was unnatural. Her view then began collapsing on itself, the edges of the imagined space edging ever closer to her, bringing out a sense of claustrophobia in her, until the 'walls' touched her and the fear of being crushed within its confines became palpable.

Zinnia would open her eyes wide and frantically raise her upper body without regard for anything that might have happened to be in that space, with cold sweats running down her face and body.

Dalanor decided to keep watch over Zinnia until she awoke. The farmer had already made one trip to get a pitcher of water, which Dalanor was currently holding, and then left again and was on his way back with a couple glasses.

After observing the magical effect that radiated from Zinnia's body when she cast the spell earlier, Dalanor didn't want to risk moving her, out of concern for triggering some other adverse reaction. The least he could do was keep the sun out of her eyes so she wasn't completely blinded when she woke up. He accomplished this with a little more excessive use of his magic to keep a straw hat hovering in the air [1], at an angle that shaded her face.

Dalanor kept watch on the distant tree line and surrounding tall grasses for sign of any other Barghests. If there was one, there was likely to be more nearby. Thankfully all was quiet except for a still breeze that rustled a few leaves to fall from a lone tree in the middle of the open farmland.

No sooner did the farmer return with two glasses that Zinnia's body shot up! Both Dalanor and the farmer were startled and thankful for her return.

"Thank the gods she's alive! Sorry for not telling you earlier, but I watched the whole thing from the top of the farmhouse! I'll be sure to tell everyone about you two! You'll be the talk the of the town!" The farmer exclaimed, making sounds and motions in the air in an effort to imitate the Chromatic Blast that Zinnia cast earlier.

Dalanor raised an eyebrow at the farmer then took one of the glasses stacked in the farmers hand and poured a glass of water from the pitcher. He knelt down and offered the glass to Zinnia, who's face was still shaded by the floating straw hat blocking out the sun.

"Zinnia, you were out cold. Do you remember what happened?"

---

[1] Telekinesis

SPOILER: Click to show

You warp space around an object, giving you the ability to lift or move that object with your mind. You can target any object that is roughly the same size as yourself and one that you can see when casting the spell. You can then move that object around, lifting it up, moving it from side to side or even using the object for its intended purpose. You do not need to physically touch the object and can move it around as long as you can see it.

"No, don't!" The words instinctively left Zinnia's lips as she raised her face before she could even process what she was saying. She couldn't comprehend why, but her magical prowess was something believed she must keep secret, a subconscious compulsion etched into her soul by a past experience she had buried deep, and one forcibly reinforced by the external factor that was her second teacher.
"But you did great, ridding us of that Barghest!" The farmer had a quizzical, questioning look on his face.
"Please... don't," tears were now trickling down her eyes. She hadn't the slightest idea how to verbalise the what's and why's, but deep within her rested the idea that Teach might not have her best interests, citing one reason or another for his adamant refusal to teach her beyond the basics when she was performing so well under L'atio, blissfully unaware that they were not truly feats achieved solely by her lonesome.
"If you say so," the farmer was feeling awkward now that he had accidentally made the girl cry. "Water?"
"Oh, ah, thanks." Zinnia strained her arm to grab the glass and helped herself to the cooling water, swallowing it in audible gulps.

The girl placed her free hand over her forehead as she tried to recall what had happened. The inexplicable dream she witnessed had long been consigned to oblivion with nary a trace of it in her memories, and she could not remember the specifics of her encounter with the Barghest.
"There was a Barghest and..." The details eluded her, so she tried to ask the spirit on the specifics of the magic she had used.
L'atio? What did I do just now? She inquired mentally while her face was wrinkled up from trying to find answers where there were none.
L'atio? There was no response. This should be the natural order of things for a regular person, and yet the girl found the prospect horribly disconcerting to her mental state. An answer was needed though, so she had little choice but to answer with the following:-
"I... I don't remember what happened after, sorry."

"Hm, interesting..." Dalanor rubbed the sides of his bearded chin. It took an average student nearly a decade of study and practice for each domain of magic before they could cast even a single novice level spell.

The barrier of entry to novice was the hardest part. Once unlocked, the progression to mastery was more incremental and even-paced, but Zinnia was perhaps only a third of his age. Only the highest of archmages were rumored to harbor such raw talent that young.

For those enlightened so early in life, mastery of their latent power was equal parts survival and ambition. Learning to responsibly harness their potential was necessary to avoid being consumed by it.

For her to have crossed such a high threshold so quickly... Dalanor recalled an ancient writing from his studies.

Magic of the blood, or pact of another world.

Born with a gift, or a blessing bestowed.

A charm may be a place, an object, or a face.

Hope not for a curse, for no power is worse.

These are the boons, for those you may find,

For whom magic is not simply learned,

It is born in their mind.

The only question was, which boon is Zinnia's... Dalanor gave her a moment to take a few gulps of water before summarizing what happened.

"Well Zinnia, you cast a spell. A rather effective one. You stopped the Barghest in its' tracks, and at the very least saved us from serious injury. You are a hero today Zinnia. I have a feeling your renown will be well known."

"I... see..." Zinnia's consciousness threatened to fail her once again as the mana in her body fluctuated uncontrollably now that her handler behind the scenes was out of commission, and the consequent lack of delicate management of the sluice that is the anti-magic seal meant that there would be nothing to stop runaway rampages... if not for further countermeasures such as shutting down her body activity to silence whatever physical mechanisms causing the influx of mana.

"Oh, this can't be good. Good sir, could you please bring her back to her home? She lives with a Sylvan Elf in a village not far from here. I would do it myself, but..." the farmer's concern grew palpable as he impotently raised his bandaged arm in response.

If Dalanor agreed, the farmer would present two ways which he could take to reach the sporadic gathering of houses of varying architecture loosely referred to as a village for convenience - an gentle upslope path paved through countless steps stomping on it repeatedly that all but killed off whatever grass used to sprout along it, and a shortcut through a forest with somewhat winding paths, but wide enough for an adult humanoid to pass through just fine and straightforward enough that most people would not end up lost since it entailed travelling along one direction for the most part.

Dalanor was curious to meet Zinnia's guardians and learn more about the mysterious girls origins. 

"Indeed, I shall take her."

The farmer was relieved to hear those words. He presented a couple different routes. While the upsloping path was more open terrain, the forest was a shorter distance. After some thought, Dalanor opted for the forest. Although his skill at Alchemy wasn't very advanced, the forest presented some opportunity to gather raw materials that might grow there. King's Valley was a new area for him, and he was curious what types of plant life he might find.

His thought did hesitate for a moment in consideration of what other types of beasts they might find there.. and how the narrow forest pathway and dense foliage might impact any further encounters.. He compelled the thought from his mind. The barghest was clearly an unpredictable situation. What was the likelihood they would encounter anything in forest pathway so frequently traveled by these people?

Dalanor remembered to return the farmers gloves, straw hat and sickle, and retrieve the jacket he hung up in the barn when he arrived. Before leaving he gave a brief lecture to the farmer about including more forewarning in his billboard advertisings.

Dalanor waved good bye and set off with Zinnia.

(--new chapter--)