Heather
Marsila Vema
The Marvelous Malefactor 
Vallen, Taemar

"These please." Marsila had stopped by a large cart that had parked itself on the side of the busy pathway. She could feel Romia's long strands of chin hair prickle against her shoulder as she reached for two cherry red apples. Cradling them in her left arm, she handed the man who stood by the cart a couple copper coins. Normally she would have to bite her tongue from suggesting a couple nights sleep after noticing the darker skin under his eyes, yet Marsila couldn't find the ounce of temptation with the weight of her parent's disappearance on her chest. Turning away from the cart of apples, Marsila plucked one from her arm and held it in front of Romia's muzzle. Her stallion ate as they tread passed the crowded bodies that filled the streets, all rushing with their daily errands while gossiping with one another about the scene that occurred with the Grunewald king. With her heightened hearing, Marsila couldn't help but hear some of the rumours of what happened, each one as exaggerated as the other. 

Reaching the first tavern they've come across since her parent's house, Romia followed Marsila to a large beam of wood and allowed her to tie down his reins. Once he was secured to the one spot, Marsila left him the remaining apple before making her way inside.

She noticed it was a lot different inside than it was out on the streets with the lack of shouting and crowds. There was still excitement among the other patrons, with the gathering parties of other kingdoms presenting themselves for the council. She decided to steer clear of those who seemed intoxicated and began asking those who looked as if they had a clear mind about whether or not they could aid her in finding someone. Unfortunately many people either hesitated before politely declining her of their help while others were straightforward and explained they weren't risking it with the plague looming near.
Sarah
Arin Cragton
Taemar

The water in his bath was just right as Arin lowered himself in. He felt the hot water soak and comfort his tired body, and Arin leaned back, closing his eyes. He sighed softly as a wave of pure ecstasy washed over him, and he slowly drifted deeper in. He took the small brush beside him and scrubbed the evidence of days passing off of his skin, and began humming an old sea shanty. 

An hour later, Arin was strolling through the small tavern. He grabbed a small bit of bread and winked at the beautiful woman giving out drinks and walked outside. Many of the people out in the city were still shaken up over the events that had transpired earlier. The king had gone mad, apparently. Arin had only overheard what was being said inside the tavern. He turned in the direction of the castle and began walking as if he had no where to be, aimlessly walking in a path that took no obvious shortcut. He finally reached the camps where lords and ladies had pitched their fancy cloth tents. He thought it was a bit much, though. Some of the tents could easily have twelve people lying head to toe and still have room. He shook his head and kept wandering, finding his way through the dark, twisted paths created by the overhanging edges of the tents. 

He noticed a group of men and women leaving one of the particularly nicer tents, one without many patches and with intricate designs inlaid in the fabric. He watched them leave the tent unattended and he crept up to it. He plundered through the items inside, finding a small chest that was locked. He swore and looked around him before picking at the lock, trying to pop it open. He finally heard the click and opened it, finding several gold pieces and a beautiful diamond necklace. He grabbed the gold but left the necklace. It was never a good idea, grabbing jewelry.

Arin bought some food from a tent that a local butcher had set up a shop in. He tasted the meat and his eyes rolled back slightly. It was perfect. He could imagine the hours the man had spent turning it over embers, and Arin kept walking. Everyone acted as if he weren't there, but Arin was only searching for one person, the man he had only laid eyes on once. The Pirate King himself, Bradai Maith.
John
**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood
The Streets of Vallen, Taemar**

While Kirk's family worked on readying their house, he and Dennon changed into some street clothes and left to walk around the neighborhood. "I'm surprised your wife let you go."

"She fell asleep after a bath. No one could stop me. When I said I was leaving, one of the guards tried shaking her awake so that she could tell me 'no,' but he failed. That said, we aren't completely alone out here..." Dennon glanced behind them as they walked, certain that a few of Lucrezia's Queensguard were keeping an eye on them from a distance. "It's been so long since I've been able to walk the city streets like I used to. The sights. The smells." His nose curled as he caught a whiff of a delivery pig relieving itself in the street.

"Can you imagine how terrible this place must smell after a rain?" Kirk asked rhetorically, taking more care in looking where he stepped to avoid a pile of pig droppings.

"Hey Kirk, do the whores you frequent ever say you have one of those?" Dennon stopped walking and smiled, pointing up at the sign of a building they were about to pass. It was a tavern called The Enchanted Hog.

"Ha. Yeah. Maybe they'll give me a free drink." Kirk said, going to the door just as it swung open and smacked him in the forehead. "Ow! Damn pigs." Kirk muttered angrily as a messenger hog pushed by him as it left the establishment.

"At least you didn't get any splinters this time," Said Dennon optimistically.

. . .

The tavern was on the busier side. There were several open seats, but there were no empty tables available. They approached a hooded man sitting at the bar with an open chair on both of his sides. "Excuse me. Could you scoot over a chair?" Kirk asked as he came to the man's side. He didn't respond.

"Hey buddy, we'll even let you pick right or left." Dennon light-heartedly offered.

"I ain't moving for an Ibethielian." The man said with a gruff voice, presumably deducing their home kingdom from their accents.

"Come on, man. Would you like some money? Is that what you want?" Dennon began to dig through his coin pouch. "Must have a couple bronze here..." He glanced up at the man to see if it had interested him, but his hooded head remained locked without turning. "Alright then, a silver piece it is." Dennon held the coin in front of the man's gaze. Instead of taking it, he took a sip from his ale. As he set the glass down, Dennon lost his patience. "Fine then." The king dropped the coin into the glass.

"Dennon..." Kirk urged, not wanting to start a fight.

"No Kirk, I think it was well warranted. All we wanted was a drink in a tavern. We've been running for nearly two weeks now from a plague. We've had the infected try to chase us down. We've seen some absolute shit." Dennon's rant was cut off by the old man grabbing his shirt and turning toward him. Dennon saw his eyes for the first time. The pupils had a pink glow.

"Stop your damn whining about what you've seen. You've seen nothing." The old man spat bitterly. His eyes locked with Dennon's, and the more the king stared at them, the brighter the pink lights became, until he felt like he was being swallowed by them.

. . .

*Dennon realized he was sitting at a table in the kitchen of a small home. A woman stood at a countertop facing away from him chopping some vegetables. "Daddy?" A young girl tugged at his sleeve, and he turned his head to look at her. He saw worry in her eyes. "There's someone at the door." The king looked behind him and heard a crash as the door was smashed in. The debris flew in every direction, tearing through the entire house. The room collapsed around him, and everything went black.

A torch ignited, lighting up a group of people standing on grass during a cold night. Dennon was kneeling next to them. The man holding the torch held it to two pyres. The flames danced up, illuminating the face of a woman on one and the little girl he had seen before on the other. **"Daddy!"** She screamed as the flames began to consume her. "Please!" Dennon begged at the feet of the man nearest to him. He looked up and saw the unforgiving face of a beast that opened its mouth and spewed more flames until the darkness of night had been chased away by a blinding white light.*

*A club hit him in the stomach. A chain smashed into his back. Dennon fell to the ground as he was beaten with more weapons. He tried to crawl away, and a hammer crushed one of his hands. A door opened in the white void a stone's throw away. On the other side, he saw the trees and mists of a Taemarian bog. The beating finally stopped. Relieved, Dennon began to crawl for the open doorway. The momentary silence was broken by the whinny and snort of horses behind him before they began to pick up speed pulling a wagon with loud rattling wheels behind them. Dennon couldn't see the horses, but he could hear them getting closer with every second. Despite the agony it brought, Dennon stood up and began running for the door, but every step he took seemed to make the door not get any closer at all. He began to scream as he could hear the horses and wagon closing in. He closed his eyes, running blind before jumping forward as hard as he could at the last second.*

. . .

"Dennon!" Kirk shouted, trying to catch his friend as he limply fell to the floor. He managed to grab his shoulders so that his head didn't crash into the wooden floorboards. Ale rained down on them both, and the splash made Dennon come to as a silver coin rattled to a stop next to them.

"What in all hells was that?!" Dennon asked frantically as he looked at his hands. They seemed fine now.

"Magic." The old man said, whimsically fluttering the fingers of a deformed hand.

"Foul stuff." Dennon said, spitting on the floor

"Well, it's all around you. Welcome to Taemar." The old man gestured at the other patrons in the tavern. One woman was watching the scene with a smile while making a dagger dance around in the air as it floated several inches above her hand. Another man lit a cigarette with flames burning from his fingertips and blew out a billow of smoke after a sizable intake. A different woman sitting at his table began to twist the smoke into the shape of a spider the size of a carriage wheel, which fell to the ground and scurried toward the foreigners. Dennon and Kirk rushed to their feet in response, and the spider disappeared in a smokey mist around their shoes. "Many of the survivors of the magic Inquisition fled here. While we are still alive, in some ways it doesn't seem like we were the lucky ones. Now, thanks to a plague, non-magic folk from around the continent are fleeing here too. I hope we can make you all feel welcome." As Dennon and Kirk backed away, the old man picked up the silver coin they left behind and put it on the bar to pay for another drink. They bumped into something and turned around, seeing a few members of the magic user crowd blocking their path to the door. "Not today, lads. Their posse's here." The door of the tavern swung open behind them, and three armed members of Lucrezia's Queensguard were standing ready outside.

"Is there a problem, your highness?" One of the guards asked.

The magic user Dennon had bumped into reached forward with his hands, making the king flinch, but he only straightened Dennon's jacket. "Have a nice night... Your highness."

Dennon and Kirk left without further incident, and the door was pulled shut behind them. Once they were a block away, Dennon's energy from the encounter began to dwindle, and he was left with a horrible shiver. Kirk looked at him with concern. "Dennon, what did he do to you."

Dennon stayed silent for a moment before finally building up the willpower to speak. "I saw his life flash before my eyes. I tried to hold it together back there, but the horrors I witnessed... Experienced..."

Kirk shook his head. "I think we should call it a night."

. . .

"He's been like this ever since we came home." Kirk said to his cousin Leah as they watched Dennon from the kitchen. He walked from window to window in the living room, peeking through the curtains suspiciously, seemingly looking for something outside. Between window paces, he also began to place pieces of furniture in front of the door as a makeshift barricade. "He needs to rest."

"I have something that might help him." Leah offered, pulling a small bottle from a medicine cabinet.

They offered Dennon a drink. Within minutes, he seemed calmer. When he began to stumble, Kirk and Leah guided him to the master bedroom and had him lay down next to Lucrezia, who was still sleeping like a log. It didn't take long before Dennon was as soundly asleep as she was.