Realms of the Arcane - Brian M. Thomsen [7]
I am well, though hard-pressed. Last night, Pavish's gift arrived-an invisible stalker. Fortunately, I expected something like it and was prepared. He always rates himself more clever than he actually is. The damned thing gave a good fight, though, and tore me up a bit, but it is a threat no more. I am relieved that it came after me here and not to our home. I could not bear it if harm were to befall you. The shepherds have a wood priest among them, so you should not worry. I am not so hurt that he cannot patch me up when this is all done.
This morning, I reached the carving. From the tracks, I am fairly certain Pavish was already here. I may not be a woodsman, but I've spent enough time in the wild to spot something as obvious as his stomping around. I cannot follow the tracks, but I know where he went.
Do you remember the bottled imp I sent him? He mentioned it in the letter. I needed to know what Pavish knew and was certain he wouldn't share the information with me, so I sent him the imp. The little creature was more than a nuisance; it was my eyes and ears. I got a good look at his notes before he killed the thing. It was the night I came to bed bleeding and told you I'd fallen on the stairs. The pain was worth it because now I know where he's going. As soon as I finish writing this, I will go after him.
Dearest, now comes the part that's hard to write. I would tell you not to fear for me, but I have no skill to lie to you. Already you know Pavish's intentions, so you also know there is a chance that from this adventure I may not return. I don't know exactly what Green-winter's staff does, but I know it is powerful. If the artifact falls into Pavish's hands, I've decided I must provoke him to use it.
This is not suicidal folly, my love, for I have a theory, though it is based on only the thinnest of suppositions. I think each time the staff is used, it vanishes-which is why Greenwinter enchanted the snake-bound pattern to find it again.
Whether I am right or wrong hardly matters. Pavish will almost certainly come looking for me. Perhaps that is why I choose to face him here, where the battle will be far from you, our home, and our friends. If I my theory is wrong, remember that I tried.
If I don't return, Marriana, please know that my last thoughts will be of you.
Your foolishly noble husband, Torreb
PS. In my study are all the letters Pavish sent me, along with copies of my own. If you do not hear from me within a month, bundle them up and send them to your father. He has no love for me, but he is wise. I think he will know what to do with them.
Glade Temple, Silverpeak Mountains
Lady Marriana,
Noble lady, I am Garrel, priest of Our Mother, Chauntea, in the village of Morpeth-by-the-Stream. Yesterday
Yard-Mas, the son of Vard-Ren the shepherd, came with news for you. Mas cannot write, so I have taken down his words for him.
It is sad news. Your husband, the wizard Torreb, is dead. Mas and his father Vard-Ren are both honest men and would not tell this tale if it were not true. This is how it happened.
Mas had been hired by your husband as a guide to a cave in a valley north of here. It is an evil place the villagers shun, so Mas agreed to point out its mouth but go no farther. Do not blame him for this. It took courage to guide your husband that far. He waited at a safe distance for your husband to come back.
At the cave, another man emerged. He was carrying a staff that Mas swears glowed with green flame. The two argued at the entrance. Then the second man pointed his staff at your husband and the green fire wrapped around him. I will not tell you all Mas says, but the fire burned your husband to ash.
This morning I persuaded some men to go to the cave, and I think the story is true. There was a great scorched patch in front of it. The ground was still hot after a full day, and the stone underfoot was as smooth as melted wax. The remains were utterly destroyed. I am greatly sorry to tell you this.
There is