11 Curse of the Shadowmage by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T14:43:47.158000+00:00

K'shar pushed aside the tangled witchgrass and gazed upon the half-metamorphosed milestone with curious golden eyes. Without doubt, this was the work of Caldorien's twisted shadow magic. For three nights and two days, the half-elf had been running swiftly through the Reaching Woods, stopping a mere half-dozen times, and then only long enough to sip water from a clear brook or to swallow a handful of acorns or late berries. Now blood surged hotly in his veins. He had found the trail. Quickly, he examined the footprints pressed into the soft earth around the milestone. Five people had gathered here: a strong yet graceful woman, a tall man, a child, a heavy man, and a small woman who walked lithely but with a slight foot drag-perhaps due to age or injury. K'shar could guess the identities of at least three of them. The strong woman was Mari Al'maren; the tall man was the mage Morhion Gen'dahar; the child was Caldorien's son, Kellen. The renegade Al'maren was indeed trying to find Caldorien, and it appeared she had help. K'shar regretted that she had a child with her children were blameless creatures, and far too often paid for the crimes of their elders-but that did not matter He would let nothing stand between himself and his prey As the autumn day wore on, K'shar loped easily down the Dusk Road, stretching out his long legs. From time to time, spying a traveler approaching, he would plunge into the thickets beside the highway, moving silently until it was safe to return to the road once more. K'shar preferred to make his way through the world unseen. While he felt no hunger, by midday he knew he needed sustenance, or the swiftness of his pace would suffer. Halting, he scanned a hedgerow with keen eyes. Suddenly he plunged a hand into the bracken with uncanny speed. When he withdrew his hand, a fawn-colored rabbit struggled in his grip. K'shar spoke a gentle word, passing a hand before the creature's face. The animal fell still, gazing at him with trusting brown eyes. It felt nothing when he snapped its neck with a precise twist of his hand. There was no time for a fire, so K'shar ate the rabbit raw. While the half-elf respected all animals, he felt no regret in killing the rabbit. It was the lot of the hunted to sustain the hunter. And one day, when he died, his own body would feed the grass that the rabbit ate. Such was the nature of the chase. Stars were beginning to appear in a dusky sky when K'shar reached Hill's Edge. The trading settlement was in a stir; something had transpired here recently. Curious, the half-elf prowled undetected through town, catching snippets of conversations. At last he overheard somethingg of interest. Sinking into a shadowed corner, he listened to two people talking on the front steps of an inn. I told Faladar that I didn't like the looks of them," lamented a red-faced woman-a cook by her stained apron and the large wooden spoon she clutched.

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