I must be loosing my mind!!

“I must be loosing my mind! I cannot believe that I have got myself connected with these humans, and an Ulronai no less, what my people would think of me in my homeland. Rushing about from City to City, running from the law and subjecting myself to the speed of humanity has boggled even my clever mind.”

These humans, they live for such a short time that they insist on living every moment as though it would be their last. Running from here to there, I have done more traveling these past few weeks then I would have ever imagined. If my family ever saw me traveling on horseback past groves of trees and lakes without stopping to speak to the plants and verifying if there are any unique herbs they would be appalled! The landscape goes by at such great speeds I feel myself wanting to stop, take a moment , maybe a few years, to analyze the way the grass grows in this region would be fabulous!

I have witnessed birds I rarely get to see land nearby and did not take the time to note them, their flight path, their colors, this pains me greatly….

If it were not for my Quest to find the Rods I would have long ago abandoned this reckless band of “thugs” and miscreants.

Anyhow, enough of these musings

Folashal stands up from his chair and stretches his back. Enjoying the solitude, his wine and some candle light studying “Ahhh, this is more like it”.

Three days ago the crew had arrived at Athring, Homeland to Khel Rennigar and had obtained approval to look through their personnel library. After having reviewed many documents and tombs,finding nothing, it was suggested he go to an old Halfling codger’s house down the street as he has many ancient volumes.

The next day, Foloshal approaches Squarts home. Squart is an old Halfling that sells used books and lives down the street from Khels family home. Approaching the house, Foloshal shakes his head as the home is entirely made of mud, very low to the ground and has a round opening in the front with no visible windows.

“Pray I do not get too dirty in here”

Foloshal knocks on the door.

Knocks again. Then again.

“What the hell is going on out there, don’t you know its breakfast time?” yells an unknown voice

“My apologies, I had thought it was just before noon, shall I come back?” yells Foloshal through the door.

The door opens slowly, hinges nearly broken , it is opened with care. On the other side of the door is the oldest, crinkliest Halfling Foloshal has ever seen. Barely 3 feet tall, even with the wild hair, beard down to the ground Foloshal wonders if he is not actually a Dwarf.

“Its Breakfeast time until its Lunch time young elf.” “ What the hell do you want?”

“I have been told that you have books for sale, may I enquire, if it’s always time to eat when do you sell books?”

“You’re pretty damn smart hey? Or simply a smart ass?” “ I sell books between Lunch and Snack time ya bastard elf, now get the hell out of my door step”

“Excuse me kind sire, but it is of outmost importance I talk with you”

“You got any Elven wine on you? If not, get lost ya bastard”

“As a matter of fact, I do have some fine Elven wine, and a fine human sample I discovered with some friends on the road the other day as well, from the finest estate”

“You some kind of wine connoisseur too hey? Fricking Elves think their so smart.” Mumbled the Halfling. “ Come in and pour me a flagon of your crap and ill be the judge of that ya bastard elf.”

The Halfling steps aside and waves Foloshal in, gingerly closing the door, Foloshal enters the “cave”.

The home is around 40’ round with no visible rooms. A straw mat in the corner, some semblance of a fireplace with no visible chimney, the room stunk like it had just survived a mass fire. However, lying on every possible open space, were volumes and volumes of old, decaying tombs.

“What a unique home you have here” states Foloshal.

“Yeah, it’s nearly as fancy as a castle you idiot.” “now pour me some wine before I call for the town guards”

Squart reaches behind a table and pulls out two very grimy, flagons that look like they had so many years of dirt on them they possible could colonize an entire herb garden.

Spitting In the glasses, he pulls out his shirt from his tunic, gives them a wipe.

“Here we go, cleaner then a whistle, now pour away, assuming you can manage to lift that flagon you weak little smart ass”

Foloshal pours a drink in both flagons, glancing at the tombs nearby.

“So, you interested in books hey,you sure you can read?”

“Yes, I am very astute and specialize in poetry.”

“Poetry! I should have known, so you like boys too then hey you faggot?”

“Pardon me kind fellow, I have never heard of that term but I most certainly like Elven women, not that has any bearing on poetry. In my homeland, it is an honor to sing poetry”

“Yeah, well that’s because you come from the woods where all you fairies dance around and stick it to each other, no wonder you’re an idiot, incenst and the like…”

“Sir, if I may, can I take a look at your books” ignoring his mean little jibes.

“Sure you can ya fairy” as he roars out in laughter.

Foloshal begins to look at the tombs. Picking them up carefully, one by one he reviews the tombs. Taking his time, reading the first few pages of every book. Most are so filthy they need to be cleaned professionally. “ If only I had a few years to clean these off.”

After some time, Foloshal hears a strange noise. Looking over at Squart, the Halfling has fallen over on the ground , beard covered in wine and snoring as loud as a Dragon. The odd noise coming from his buttocks and his mouth at the same time.

“Wow, this guy would match well with Khel” Im surprised if there isn’t a wench hidden in here somewhere as well!” Smiling despite himself, Foloshal continues with his work.

After some time Foloshal opens a tomb and notes that it is written in ancient elvish, and it’s a poetry book!

“Well well, I might as well read this in its entirety, must do justice to this ancient poet!”

Hours later, Squart wakes up with a clamor.

“What the hell is going on in here, who the hell are you?” “oh yeah, its the fairy, you done yet or you waiting for your godmother?”

“Im sure I don’t know what you mean, but I am nearly done.”

“Well its supper time and the time for sellin books is over, so get the hell out of me house before I call the town guards on ye, unless of course ya have some more of that wine?”

“As a matter of fact I do” Foloshal approaches his pack , opening it the flagons have all been emptied.

“It would seem you have drank all of my wine”

“You fricking ungrateful son of a warg, you accusing me of stealing your crappy wine and drinking it all right in front of you without getting caught?”

“I’m sorry, you are right, it must have spilt on the ground” mutters Foloshal;, knowing there is no way this happened.

“Yeah, it spilled on the ground, I should charge you to clean my dirt floor ya stupid elf”

“So here is the deal, you can take that fairy book for 7 gold pieces, and another gold piece for the cleaning charge and another for making me drink that foul wine equals… 12 gold pieces”

“I’m sorry isn’t that…ah, no you’re right of course, 12 gold pieces it is”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought , you cant add hey? You sure you can read that garbage…anyhow, it’s a deal. Hand over the 13 gold and be on your way”

Foloshal, ever the one to avoid a conflict, hands over Squart the 13 gold, packs away the book and departs.

Cut scene.


Later that evening, in the privacy of his temporary study, Foloshal nearly drops the book in his excitement at his discovery. A poem. A beautiful poem written about The Seven Rods as One.

Reading the poem over and over again, it is clear to Foloshal that the writer must have in depth knowledge , as references that are rarely known are mentioned.

But, a key sentence catches his eye

“The seven rods, merged as one, 7 pieces they are , what once was one, now is 7, scattered through the heavens, never to be merged again”

“Wow, what a discovery, it would seem it is one rod, broken into seven shards…this Rod would be so powerful, ability to control all the armies of the seven major races, this information must be kept to myself”