At the Outpost

damn artritis! mumbled Belboz under his breath. these bones of mine are getting weaker every day...and these robes, why didn't I just stitch a pair of leggings?!!?

Andrea recalled all the stories whispered about this man...a man said to have the ability to smite his foes with lightning or slowly drain their spirits for his hideous experiments.

I wonder what this girl is thinking, thought Belboz. probably thinks I'm some kind of monster or worse. Stupid rumors! Kill one green drudge and soon they say it was a dozen; manipulate the rate of precipitation on a cloudy day and later they'll say you brought on a storm!

They continued their journey and soon came to an ox path which led to a shack. "What is this place?" asked Andrea. "Just an outpost," answered Belboz. "In the middle of nowhere?" exclaimed Andrea. "Where else would you expect to find an outpost?" bursted out Belboz. There was no one within the shack...only a table, some plates and an old shoe. The twosome rested there awhile. Andrea used the time to think some more.

I'm in the middle of nowhere with a warlock who can kill with a word. my family is...my family is what? imprisoned, dead, worse? and my home desecrated and runover with vile traitors. My only help, a warrior woman from the south is cursed, and the knight she trusted is now some kind of undead beast... of course, how far can I trust the words of this warlock? Such were the thoughts of this minor noble's daughter.

Soon Belboz gave the signal to leave. "No," said Andrea. "Heh?" replied the warlock. "We must go to King Emry; his legions will save my land." Belboz began to laugh. "Well, well, little girl, is that so? If its Dragon's work then the King will be hard-pressed to gut out this cancer. The Dragon is a force of nature worse than the North Wind. The Dragon is a beast worse than the lion, bear, and ogre. The Dragon is intelligent, far more than mere mortal men. We need more than one little King."

Andrea was shocked by the warlock's words. She was disgusted and distressed, she had never in her entire life heard such deprecating remarks said of the Leige of All the Land, of the mighty Sovereign, of the King of Allaria. "What?" she spurted out.

"You can leave if you like, but I will search for a man who -with the King and his knights and mages and pages- can lead us all to victory."

"And who can this savior be?" said Andrea smirking in feined awe.

"None other than the Lghtbringer, none other than Simon D'Chretiene!"

Andrea just stared at the warlock as if he had just said 'Shrek the Stinking Ogre'. Images of the man Simon whirled within her mind; the stories that she had heard of him and of the Four Winds, the tales of his heroism and gallantry and loyalty. She stared at this twisted warlock and whispered, "Are you kidding?"

"Nope," said Belboz.

1. Andrea cannot bringherself to believe in this obviously wicked man and goes her own way toward Caemlyn
2. Andrea does not know how far to trust this strange warlock, yet she decides to continue to follow him
3. Meanwhile, at Croix Keep...

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