A Summary of Travels
Morinsen: a place of ice, snow, and way too many humorless dwarves for Tammy’s liking. She was supposed to be in the desert, to be traveling to B’Ahal, but recent events had stranded her on the high peaks of the Claw Mountains and deep within the dwarven settlement.
Tammy ran a hand through her hair which now reached down a little past her shoulders and leaned back in the sturdy, wooden chair made to easily support the weight of a dwarf as chatter sounded around her in the tavern. She would have ended up here even if she had flatly refused to come. She wouldn’t have put it past the old man to carry her up the slopes and deposit her in Hanar’s house. And even if Glortor hadn’t carried her up, she would have had to deal with Anni sooner or later. The point was, however, that she was here and that there seemed to be little chance of her coming down the icy slopes any time soon.
It had started simply enough. The half-dragon known as Gabriel had begun to visit her, somewhat to her annoyance at first, at the camp site in the woods with Semir. Of course, after little to no company for the past several weeks, Tammy had grown to find his visits amusing and even entertaining at times, when she came to think of it.
The fugitive shadowdancers had showed up at the camp site soon after Gabriel had started visiting, having nowhere else to go after fleeing from Solinar. Tammy grinned slightly after remembering how all the dancers had chased Semir’s pet rat around the camp site after one dancer had tripped over the rodent, spilling the food that was meant for everyone else all over the ground.
Unfortunately, Tammy’s plans to head to the desert were shattered when Durza’s army had showed up. She had wandered a bit farther from the camp site than she usually did and had said good-bye to Gabriel when she had suddenly noticed men wearing red armor coming from the shadowdancers’ camp site.
Shit.
She had quickly run back to the camp site only to find the bodies of the shadowdancers lying prone on the ground. She had time to glance around for a moment before one of the red armored men had come flying through the doors of a tavern nearby, accompanied by Semir’s shouts.
After disposing of the man, Semir and Tammy had gone about raising the newly slain shadowdancers. As soon as the dancers could breathe once more, Semir promptly had decided to teach the shadowdancers to murder…not kill…but murder. After all, he wasn’t going to have all those dancers die again so easily.
While the shadowdancers went to run eight miles as ordered by Semir, Tammy had practiced with her sword. She had only practiced for an hour or two at most, however, when Gabriel had showed up again, announcing his presence by throwing a twig at her. After a few muttered words, Tammy had quickly told him about Durza’s men (she had figured out that they were Durza’s by Semir’s mention of the name). Yet she spoke almost too late as an army of the red armored men suddenly came to the camp site once more, surrounding them.
They had fought them for a while, slicing through a few of the men yet it was seen to be a hopeless cause: there were just too many. Seeing the fight was turned in the favor of Durza’s men, Gabriel had grabbed Tammy around the waist and had taken off, flying steadily towards the Copper caves.
When they had landed on one of the higher slopes surrounding the lake in the Copper’s territory, they had seen a whole army of red armored men stretched out before them. Fighting this vast military force was the Scarbo called Josh, father to Gabriel. Durza himself had appeared, his face looking as if it was rotting away with decay. He ordered Josh to hand Gabriel over but, not surprisingly, Josh refused. Durza had then ordered several of his minions to attack them. Josh had yelled at Gabriel to get away, and so Gabriel had picked Tammy up once more and had flown with all his speed towards the mountains.
Snow had lashed at their faces as they had arrived near the peaks of the Zheradan mountains. Shivering, they were soon ushered into a cave by a monk dressed in the colors typical to the Zheradan monks. Although still freezing, the cave provided a welcome relief from the howling wind outside.
In that cave, the “friggin’ crazyâ€
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