Kitty placed the blue glowing pyramid in Chryrie's waiting palm, being careful to not touch it bare handed. She carefully watched Chryrie's face once the goddess had the soul cage in her grasp.

Chryrie pursed her lips in thought as she looked at the soul cage. She wanted to crush it and the soul inside. She wanted to obliterate him in a way he could never bother her again, alive or dead. It was only Kitty's expression of pleading and hope that stopped her from doing so.

As Chryrie held the soul cage she could see the myriad of memories the Moredhel had gathered in life. Everything he saw, heard, smelled, and tasted. Apparently he really did dislike the taste of ale.

She could also sense everything he felt during those memories. This was most important. This was what made the hardness in her eyes soften. Every memory of her torture was filled with guilt and fear. Fear of disappointing the clan chieftain. Fear of the beating he would receive if he dared speak against Kalentor's actions. Guilt from the harm he had to watch being inflicted on his kin.

It was then that Chryrie discovered that Marlenthal didn't truly put up a resistance when Kitty would fly at them in a rage. While Marlenthal was also studying to be a shaman, his magical power was noticeably less than Kalentor. However, his physical strength was greater. He could have been a more formidable opponent to Kitty then, but only put up enough of a fight to make it look good.

Secretly the elf was cheering Kitty on as he watched her punch and kick their more malicious sibling away from his task of brutality. He really hated Kalentor. While Marlenthal shared in the belief that the other races of Midkemia were inferior, Chryrie was clearly not of this world. While there was no mistaking the Moredhel half of her lineage, her other half was something ethereal and full of so much power.

Chryrie carefully set the soul cage on the mantlepiece with a sigh. Tears were behind her eyes, threatening to spill out. She blinked them away, refusing to let them surface even as she swallowed the building lump in her throat.

"Well...?" Kitty asked quietly. Her eyes sought those if her sister.

"Well..." Chryrie temporized as she took a moment to regain her composure. "I have good news and bad news."

"Okay." Kitty braced herself for what may come next.

"I am willing to bring him back." Chryrie's words made Kitty's heart lift. What followed made it drop right back down.

"But I can't. Not yet anyway. I'm a goddess of Rhydin. Mar has never been to Rhydin. I currently have no control over his soul once it leaves this cage."

"So what do we do?" Kitty looked nearly devastated. All that work of getting him away from that demon' The lives of all those Ular mercenaries lost' For nothing"

"I'll need one of the Valheru artifacts. A very specific one." Chryrie started to walk toward her library.

"So I need to return to Midkemia?" Kitty was quick to follow. She wasn't relishing the idea of returning to what was once her home.

"No. It's not there." Chryrie shook her head as she walked to a set of shelves and pulled out one of the books. "It's on a world called Andcardia. I can't go there. At least, not with hopes of retaining my power. I'd be reduced to the mage I was before my ascension."

"Never heard of it." Kitty frowned. She wisely chose to not comment on the fact that Chryrie was still damn powerful before she ascended.

"It was colonized by another group of elves much like the Moredhel." Chryrie spoke like she was teaching a class. "They call themselves the Taredhel. They like to boast how they are as powerful as the Valheru, but they made their own artifacts. Which is true, for the most part. They did create most of their objects of power. Just not this particular one."

"So I have to look for some weird object on an unknown planet that's populated by a bunch of elves that could be worse than our own kin..." Kitty leaned to look at the book her sister was holding.

"Actually, I was thinking of sending Hawk. He's been asking me for a quest. Viska has too, but disguising him would be far more difficult. Hawk has the skills and size which would be perfect for this." Chryrie spoke matter-of-factly as she flipped a few pages in the book. She finally turned the book so Kitty could see the picture of an amethyst statuette.

"I'm not sure if I should be insulted or relieved." Kitty muttered as she peered at the pages of the book.

"I would go with the latter." Chryrie gave her a scornful look before she turned the book back around. "The whole thing is dangerous beyond reason. But Hawk seems to get off on those kinds of things."

"If he gets in over his head, we have to rescue him." This wasn't even a question in Kitty's mind.

"Well, of course." The goddess seemed offended. "What kind of awful beast do you take me for?"

"I will monitor his progress as best I can from here. If he needs help, I will send you after him." Chryrie lifted her eyebrows in question. "Does that sound reasonable?"

"It'll have to do."

When the swirling stopped. When all the fog of the mind cleared. The Ranger found himself on a small bit of solid land in the midst of a bog. While the plants themselves seemed somewhat familiar, they were most definitely not of any plant he had seen on Rhydin. The birds that chirped to each other carried no calling that echoed within the land he came from.

Magic frightened the Ranger but not Chryrie's. It was an innate trust that he had built through all their years of friendship and now their relationship now. But he preferred his own boots to this magical travel any day.

Because he had a good sense of where he was when he walked instead of just being..there. He was there, and then not. And then there again. No need for weapons yet.

It was either late evening or early morning, judging by the sun's proximity to the horizon that was pretty much impossible to see through all the trees and greenery. The chirping birds quieted down as the sound of voices was heard off in one direction. It sounded a bit like a garbled mess before the compass tingled, one of the enchantments placed within the jewels on it's cover doing the job of translating the strange elvish dialect into something more recognizable. "You've chewed too much of the weeds. There's nothing over here."

"I am positive I heard something unusual over this way..."

That something unusual was the Ranger. But when he arrived he cloaked himself in that ethereal garment. Putting the fabric over his head. Letting it close around him. The enchantment in the cloth shifted each color in turn until it matched the strange flora around him. He had no time to figure out the direction of the wind. But stood stark still, and beside a gathering of plants. The natives might not take too kindly to a stranger.

After several moments a pair of elven males were visible through the dense foliage. Their hair was dark and fell in waves. They looked not unlike the sisters he knew, but there was enough of a difference to know they were not exactly the same type of elf.

They reached the edge of the bog before looking down into the murky waters.

"I don't see anything. Can we return to the path now?" The one complained to the other. After the other took several moments to look over the bog, he finally nodded in agreement. Their footsteps were easily heard as they retreated back the way they came.

A certain curiosity came over the Ranger while he watched. They had similar, but not exactly, scents to the sisters he knew. Ears and hair as well. He watched, silently, standing stark still until they left. When he was sure they could not see him he raised the compass to observe which direction he should be heading in.

The needle on the compass spun. When he checked the map he was given, he saw he was heading toward the apparently setting sun in the west. There was a path that ran in that direction, but Chryrie had clearly marked it as not a good idea to be using.

That path that looked like the most dangerous was tempting. To a Ranger who had seen only empty towns in his travels through Rhy'din he grew very itchy to go in that direction. But decided that there was enough danger on this "trip". There were other paths to be found, when one was as agile and well traveled as Hawk. Longer in places. Shorter in others. He started on that path.

As the sun disappeared, he fell into near complete darkness. The dual moons provided just enough light through the treetops to keep it from being that far. However, it didn't take long before he discovered there was something ahead. Something alive, and very very large.

The map said this was the right direction even if he had altered the path. Skimming the edge that Chryrie had told him to avoid but keeping the same direction as that path. The direction was right. Whatever it was that was alive had a very distinct scent that he had never encountered before. Something that big was best avoided. Even on unfamiliar ground he managed to keep his boots from making any noise while he crept behind some foliage to keep out of its path.

Minutes later a beast that looked somewhere between a mix of a tiger and a bear burst into view. There were snuffling grunts as it sniffed along the ground. It paused as if it smelled the Ranger nearby. However, either it did not trust the scent, or simply didn't care. It let out another snuffle grunt and the bounded off toward the south.

Hawk didn't scramble but stayed as still as a statue this time. There would be a time and place to present himself as a threat, and as the larger creature. But this wasn't it. If things turned ugly he would have to use the daggers he carefully hid in his sleeves. Lucky for him and the creature they did not. The Ranger, still trusting his own two feet and the path he set out on, made for his goal with long, quick strides.

It seemed like he had gotten away unscathed. However, he didn't get very far. The only warning was the snapping of a twig behind him before that same beast would came back, leaping right at him with claws extended.

Blessed Mother. He said internally. Forgive me for slaying this creature.

With a tilt backward he fell to the ground, loud, crashing, and a dagger uprose, piercing through what he assumed to be the creature's neck. It was one fell motion and swoop, belying all that grace and agility he always walked with.

There was a gurgling sound that was intended to be a feral roar, but it was cut short by the blade. However, the downside was having a three hundred pound beast laying on top of him, bleeding on him.

It had gotten rid of all his subtlety. He would have to take the cloak to someone who knew its magic to repair it. But the rents made in the cloth revealed his garb. The creatures blood stained his surface.

Hawk, all lithe and taut musculature, was deceptively strong. It took some effort to get the bleeding carcass off of him but he did. He should have opted for assistance. He was in too deep.

He had no idea how deep. Once he stood up, he found himself staring down the shaft of three arrows. Each one notched into very ornate bows. The bow strings were pulled back by the lithe fingers of three very angry looking elves. Two of which he recognized.

The Ranger stood absolutely still, the daggers were dropped with a clatter of metal to the ground.

He held out his now empty hands to show he had no weapons in them at this point in time.

The one elf got a wicked smile as he lowered his bow. The other two remained as they were. The apparent leader reached for his blade as he started toward Hawk. However, he never got all the way there. Another arrow zinged through the air and bury itself into the elf's temple, sending him crumbling to the ground. This, of course, made the other two whip around to try and find the source, releasing their arrows into the black night.

Hawk threw himself sideways, avoiding those two quarrels as gracefully as he could. Which was to say, not gracefully at all, it was a desperate move, sudden and quick, and pushed the air out from his lungs so he gasped. Even then he was able to unsling his bow, knock it with an arrow, and loose right for the closest elves' Adam's Apple.

The elf he aimed for dropped, flailing. The one who remained turned to see what became of his comrade, only to take an arrow directly into his eye socket.

And then....nothing. Just total silence.

The scent of his helper was hard to find in the wind, since they seemed to remain downwind.

Bow out, gripped familiar, and an arrow knocked he stood, taking cover behind a large plant that looked like a tree to him. Aiming his bow in the distance in every angle he could foresee. Even the ones above him. "I mean you no harm if you mean me no harm. And purposely meant to help me."

"Shhhh." Came the reply. There was a bit of a flame. A tiny match in the darkness that revealed a pair of golden feline eyes set within an elven body that he was fairly familiar with. One of those eyes simply winked and then the flame was gone.

The Ranger was very good at controlling himself and his distinct facial features. A handsome and horridly scarred face that never made much emotion. At that moment he could have smiled or showed relief. Instead he followed her instructions to the letter.

"Keep going like I'm not here." Her voice was a faint whisper in the wind and then it truly felt like he was once again alone in the woods, surrounded by death.

But at least this time death was on his side. Chryrie had sent her sooner rather than later. Bow out and still at the ready he walked. He was thoroughly skilled with his sword, but deadly with the bow. And he would rather approach every threat from a distance now. He skulked now that his camouflage was ruined. Moving from bush to bush. Tree to tree. Slow progress, but steady.

Kitty was a ghost within the trees, neither seen nor heard. It was easy enough to almost forget she had even been there. Kitty would keep up. Hawk had no worry about that.

The trip took hours, but it was mostly uneventful until he reached the rock-face with the caves. The instructions on the map indicated he needed to find the cave with a certain symbol carved just within it's entrance.

The caves loomed in front of him and he used his keen vision to find the one with the symbol carved at the entrance. Confirming it more than a few times by looking at the map and looking back up to where he needed to go. He paused at the entrance to sling his bow, place that arrow back in the quiver, and remove his sword. Hawk had no fear of dark caves. Because just the light that poured in from the mouth would provide enough light for him to see.

That light went so far, but then as the path curved, the light gave out. However, there was a torch on the wall for him to take and light if he so wished.

He opted for something else. The torch would be blinding in its contrast. He plucked a gray stone that held a few runes in its sides from one of his pouches and chanted a nearly wordless incantation. It glowed with a subtle blue light. Perfect for what he needed. He held it aloft in his left hand, the sword in his right, and made his way down the cave.

The cave branched off several times, but each time the correct path was marked by the same carved symbol as the one at the start. It wasn't until he reached a wide chamber he saw another light beyond his own. Upon a raised platform a box rested. The box was covered in elaborate carvings and detailed runes.

Another whisper, guttural, animal like, dimmed the stone's light and he slid it back into it's proper pouch. Both hands on his sword, he took stock in his surroundings, all the senses he had, even the way the air moved over his skin, and approached the box.

It all seemed to be going peachy until he reached the box. When he got within arm's reach of the box, all the torches on the wall flared to life.

From the very walls themselves five elves in mages robes appeared. Suddenly one of the mages lifted a hand and sent an invisible force like a giant hand smashing into Hawk, sending him to the nearest wall and pinning him there.

Now this was why he hated magic. He did have some last ditch defenses against some magic but none of them that would work on a planet that was unfamiliar to him. Now he was utterly helpless. And being pinned. Even those bits of powder that would cause blinding sparks were useless.

"What exactly do you believe yourself to be doing?" One elf spoke, looking at the ranger under some rather impressively bushy eyebrows for his kin.