A hand snaked out of a dark corner, grabbing Captain Prince Classius on the shoulder. It was a skinny hand with long fingers. An elf hand! Classius jumped when a slender, middle-aged elf stepped from the shadows. He wore the shoulder length blond hair of the Eastern Tree Village.

“I am called Cedar,” the elf introduced himself in a firm confident voice, while he eyed Classius up and down.

“What do you want?” Classius stammered, less confidently.

He knew full well who the elf was. He was the one who had come in alone the day before, from Esha Road. It was rumored that his entire squad had been killed by a horde of Swamp Crawlers and he was the lone survivor.

“I know of your quest. I know where you’re going and what you’re seeking,” Cedar said matter-of-factly. “I wish to accompany you, should you have me.”

“How do you know?” Captain Prince Classius asked, genuinely confused. “And why would I take a stranger?”

“One can keep a secret. Two gossip. People are whispering. Squads are gathering heavy supplies. You’re heading north. Way north.” The elf winked at him, as if enjoying the forbidden knowledge.

“Elves don’t wander too far from their home trees,” Classius retorted, realizing that he needed to expedite his departure before the rumors spread further.

“I’m not like most of my kind, who fear leaving their trees, and cringe at the mere thought of travel,” Cedar explained, somewhat disdainfully. “I’m somewhat of an outcast with my people as I have the wanderlust to see new places. My people call elves like me rogue.”

“Rogue?” Classius repeated, not having heard the term before.

“Yes, meaning free from the tree bond. I’m much like men in that respect,” Cedar laughed. “I’ve travelled far and alone on several occasions. Past Timber Lake.”

“Are you saying that you have seen the white kingdom that I seek?” Classius asked suspiciously, but was actually interested now. ”Because no one in the Glen has ever heard of such a place.”

“No. I’ve never gone that far, but I can get you safely past Timber Lake,” the elf answered.

“Many men Quest to the lake. It’s quite large and would be hard to miss. I think we can find it,” Classius stated and turned to leave the elf.

“I didn’t say to the lake, I said past it,” Cedar continued with a mischievous smirk. “I found a goblin village on the lake shore. They use small wooden boats, no more than rafts really, to catch fish. I’ve used their rafts to cross the lake a couple of times. I could take you to them, unless you already have a plan to cross the big deep lake?”

Captain Prince Classius thought for a moment, not really trusting this odd elf, but seeing the value of such a huge time saver to have a guide. Besides, he didn’t have any kind of a plan for anything, and this odd rogue elf would probably fit right in with the group that he was planning on taking up into the mountains.

“Okay you may come.” Classius decided. “Meet me at the Livestock Gate at sunset. We ride at night because unfriendly eyes watch the city. Make sure that you have a horse and as many provisions as you can carry. If you aren’t there, we’ll leave without you.”

“I’ll be there with my horse and supplies. Thank you, prince,” Cedar said happily.

“Livestock Gate when the sun falls,” Classius reiterated, and headed for the jail. He still had much to do, and his father had given him one final duty as Jail Captain.

Captain Prince Classius entered the jail with the seven guards that were assigned there. He had all of the prisoners, from petty thieves to murderers, brought to the common room. The group of prisoners numbered seventeen, and they had never been all together at the same time before.

“Listen to me,” Captain Prince Classius began speaking. “You’ve probably heard that the seven tribes of goblins have invaded our lands. We’re in dire times, and I’m here to offer you a deal.”

Several of the prisoners laughed, while others grumbled, until Borgu said, “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“I’ve been authorized to offer pardons to any prisoners that volunteer to help defend Port Turin. Full pardons for all past crimes,” Classius announced.

“And if we don’t wish to fight for you?” a scraggly older man named Galgord hollered from the back of the room.

“Then you’ll be escorted to the Main Gate and given a weapon and some supplies,” Classius answered. “You may go where you will. If you survive the ravaging hordes of goblins and find yourselves alive at the end of the war, you’ll still be held responsible for your crimes, should we meet again.”

“I, for one, will not fight alongside my jailers,” a chunky blond woman named Helga scowled. She was known for her quick temper and was currently in the jailhouse for beating a shopkeeper unconscious.

“I’d defend you, handsome,” the cute Kara snickered.

“Get a room at the inn,” the gruff Helga scoffed at Kara’s remark.

“It must be bad if you need our help,” Galgord, an experienced thief who had killed three men when a caravan robbery went bad, mused as he scratched his shaggy dirty hair. “It’s a tempting offer, prince, but I shan’t die inside these city walls.”

“Each one of you must decide for yourselves. Time is short,” Classius advised.

The prisoners began to chatter amongst themselves, trying to decide which option was better. There was quite a bit of arguing and bickering until Helga decked one of the men and a fight had to be broken up.

In the end, Galgord, Helga, and five of the more hardened criminals decided to leave the city. Classius ordered his seven guards to escort them to the Main Gate.

The group of vagabonds planned to find a place to hole up until the war ended, thinking it would be a safer option. They were wrong. A few days later they would be found by a patrol, tortured and hanging dead from trees near a cave that they had tried to hide in. 

“Borgu, I have a different offer for you,” Classius said after he had managed to get the big black man aside from the remaining nine prisoners. “I’m leaving the kingdom on a special mission. I’m going far to the north and there’ll be much danger. I’m hoping you’ll accompany me on this journey.”

“My young prince.” Borgu ran his big hand over his bald black head before continuing,  “I wonder why you would trust someone such as me? In the past we were enemies.”

“You speak of the past my friend,” Classius said, grinning. “I’m speaking of the future. You complete this mission and I give you my word you’ll be a lord, with full honors, in my kingdom. Few men get a second chance in life. That is what I am offering you.”

Borgu grinned his large toothy smile, and answered, “You’ll not be disappointed. I shall accompany you to the white kingdom.”

“Wait . . . what?” The prince shook his head at how fast and far word had travelled about his upcoming journey. “How did you know . . . oh never . . .”

“What about me?” the interrupting voice was that of a female.

“What about you Kara?” Classius asked.

The pretty thief stepped forward, and having eavesdropped their entire conversation, began to speak, “I don’t like either option you’ve given the others, so I too accept your offer of a quest.”

“It was not made to you.” Prince Classius sighed, exasperated by her boldness. “Besides, where we plan to travel is no place for a woman.”

“The cute female’s wild blue eyes flashed with anger. “No place for a woman? I’m quite sure that I can take care of myself and would be of great use to you.”

“This is not a debate,” Classius said. “You are . . .”

Kara held up two daggers, stopping the prince in mid-sentence. They were the ivory daggers from his belt that his father had given him when he had turned eighteen. The spry thief spun about, launching both daggers!

The blades flew through the air, straight at a tall skinny prisoner who was leaning against a nearby wall. The two knives sunk deep into the wooden wall, one on each side of the man’s neck, pinning him there. If they had stuck any closer to him, he would be bleeding. The man’s eyes darted back and forth, wide with fear.

Classius’ mouth hung open, so Borgu spoke, “Now that could come in handy!”

“Okay, you’ve proved your point,” the prince found his voice, yet he was still staring at the pinned man. “You can come, but if you double cross me, I’ll have Borgu here run you through with a spear.”

“Fair enough,” Kara said, smiling her cutest smile at the prince, and then added, “So I guess I better return this to you before we go?”

Kara held out a money pouch that Classius recognized as his own. He quickly snatched the bag from the pretty thief’s slender hand as Borgu let out a belly laugh.

“How did you get that from under . . . oh never mind. Let’s go find you two a couple of horses . . . that we plan to pay for,” Classius warned while retrieving his daggers and found his mind wandering. What have I gotten myself into, and more importantly, why am I so bothered by that female thief?

The jailhouse guards returned from the Main Gate and took the remaining eight former prisoners to their new assignment at Tower Eleven. Captain Prince Classius hung the now empty jailhouse keys on the hook near the front gate and led his two new recruits toward the stables. My life is changing a lot faster than I expected, the young prince thought. 

His odd little group had grown to five. The strong former pirate Spear Master Borgu, the cute but feisty master thief Kara, the odd rogue elf Cedar, his best and most trusted friend Sir Red, and the inexperienced untested jailhouse prince. How in the world can we possibly pull this off?

                                                                    *     *     *

With the yellow sun, came the very angry black dragon. The beast had once again been healed by the black magician and was battle ready. Ephraim made one circle, high above the Command Tower, and then dove straight for the catapult. The dragon let loose a large blast of acid across the entire top of the tower.

King Sturdy Axe, his flag bearers, and the catapult just below them on the south wall took a direct hit. The dwarf king saw the black death rain coming down and dove under the small wooden table that he had just been eating his breakfast on.

He could see his four flag signalers disintegrate before his eyes, even as the black acid burned through his table and began to drip onto his chainmail and beard, with a loud hissing sound.

The king pulled the small dragon scale shield from his back and blocked as much of the black liquid as he could. The table he was under burst into flames, while the acid puddles bubbled towards him along the stone floor.

King Sturdy Axe jumped up, knocking the burning table over, and ran through the puddles of acid that were now eating through the stone floor around him.

He made it to the stairway and threw himself down them, tumbling head over heels, while his long bushy beard sizzled. The Command Tower was only one story high, and a dwarf story at that, so he rolled out onto the south wall fairly quickly.

The dwarf king looked up to see the nearby catapult smoking. He hated to see that the acid had hit it, not wanting to lose a weapon that had killed so many goblins. Perhaps I’m about to meet the same fate, he thought, when he started to feel his chest burn.

Several dwarf warriors, and a recently promoted commander named Hard Dock, rushed up and grabbed their king. They ran for the big tower to the west, where the ballista had just fired at the black dragon and missed.

Ephraim swung about and dove on the group of dwarves helping their king. Commander Hard Dock turned and threw a large hammer at the attacking dragon. It bounced off the beast’s chest, apparently doing little damage, because the flying beast still swooped in

The black dragon grabbed Commander Hard Dock in his clawed hands and flew off. The dragon unceremoniously bit off the struggling Hard Dock’s head and dropped the decapitated body into the courtyard below.

King Sturdy Axe let out a scream when they entered the tower on the west corner of the wall. The acid was eating into his chest. Two warriors managed to pull the melting chainmail from their king, while a third pulled off his boots, which were smoking from when he had run through the acid puddles.

There was a large burnt patch on his tunic, which they also removed. The king’s chest had some black and red burns, where the acid had reached his flesh, causing the old dwarf king a lot of pain. His feet also started to burn while his socks dissolved.

Ehpraim circled the entire kingdom, and after hearing the dwarf king scream, flew off. He thought that his acid would surely finish off the leader of the half manlings, not realizing that the dwarf chainmail had protected his victim, somewhat.

The armor had been forged with dwarf magic and may have saved King Sturdy Axe. It was in the hands of the healers now, who were busily scurrying around their wounded leader.