Part One

He came from the west through the Mid-Land. It was said that he met with Druids, over zealous wizards and some of the finest smiths as he stormed his way east. He road a mare of ash colored fur and eyes the color of cream. The horses trot stopped short of a sign that read "Foremount" and knowingly neighed for the traveler to dismount. The man did so slipping off the horse as his large cloak followed. He led his mare through the mud ridden streets following the sound of belligerence to a sign that read "Deliverance." He hitched the ash colored horse that now had a splatter of brown along her and gave her a nod and a pat before entering the establishment that polluted the stretch of mud with noise and the scent of piss and ale.

The traveler usually found himself stared at in most places he entered. He towered over the people and most couldn't help, but at least glance. Here though, in Foremount, the long rains and dreary days seemed to make the town guzzle their thoughts away. Here he could move through easily.

"What are ya' having?" The man tending the bar asked as he looked the hooded man up and down only able to notice his distinguishing ice cold blue eyes.

"Ale." The blue eyed man answered. he tossed his three silver coins with an emblem of a four pointed crown onto the counter.

"Ale is one Dekky, no need for these two."

"I need more then an Ale, need your two cents."

"My what? Lad the hells that mean?" The bartender asked confused.

"Its a saying...Idiom."

"The hell did you call me?" The bartender became more aggravated by the second as his face began to flush.

"That's not what I-"

"What's going on here?" Another man approached. His face looked like a younger version of the bartenders, just with more peach on his chin then the long salt and pepper beard of the bartender's.

"I'm looking for information." The cloaked man answered sounding exasperated.

"I think you better leave stranger. We ain't very kind to ones we don't know, snooping 'round." The young man replied. The stranger did not budge and sat quietly stewing on his next move. "Ya' got shit in your ears? I said leave, you are bothering my pa!" The traveler could feel the air change across his cheek. Quickly he pulled his head back as he watched the young man's fist fly in front of him. His hands clenched the young mans wrist and elbow before slamming the mans arm on the corner of the bar.

Another fist flew towards his chin from across the bar from the young mans father, the pepper bearded bartender. It was a reaction to hearing the snap of his sons bones and the wailing of his son as the young man sank to the ground in pain. The traveler quickly dodged like a cat and pulled the man onto the counter. The stranger put all his weight onto his left side and dropped his elbow onto the bartender's chest, cracking his sternum.

The tavern erupted into a flurry of fists, and then the slashing of swords and daggers. The noise from Deliverance changed from the joyful hollering of drunks to the violent fury of an enclosed war, and it attracted the town guard.

Before anymore blood stained the rickety wood three guards entered. The smallest of them was able to wag their newly polished steel at the patrons until they all had their backs to the western wall of the establishment. The two larger ones aimed their weapons at the stranger. He stood with a pile of bruised and bloodied patrons around his feet. He turned back to the bar as if yearning for his requested ale and then back to the guards. "I wanted a drink."

Part Two

This wasn't the strangers first time in a cell. He had been in many since he came to this land. Sometimes it was for belligerence, other times it was for lunacy, speaking of impossible lands. He learned to keep his mouth shut about such things, but as he traveled his tales did as well.

"'Scuse me, sir." A voice from the cell beside him squeaked out interrupting his quiet stewing. "Sir?"

"I'm listening." He growled back.

"Mind helping me with a bet? My brother and I got a bet, goin'." The stranger stayed silent.

"See, I say based on those big blue peepers ya' got and that unkempt mane and beard, I'm thinking you gotta be that sword for hire with the stories of steam powered suits and buildings that touch clouds!"

"What did you bet on it?" The unkempt stranger asked.

"My days in 'ere. If I win and you are him my twin has to trade me clothes and I get his shorter sentence. If I lose he's gonna tell them about my stash of goods outside the town limits."

"It can't be him, Tarvus. That guys a myth. A silly tale that's been going around in bard ballads that's all." The other twin piped up from the third cell down.

"Well are you?"

"Cal Gunkrate." A voice called out as the dungeons large wooden doors swept open kicking the dust up from the rocky floor. A burly man with a waist coat that was stretched to its limits that had seams coming undone entered the room staring daggers at the blonde haired stranger with ice blue eyes. "Lord Eadon has requested your presence at his palace"

"You were right, Tarvus." The stranger answered the young half elf in the cell beside him.

"We know how to fight too!" The half elf called out as they began to leave.

It was close to the twilight hours by the time Cal Gunkrate and the large man along with his posse of armed guards entered the ornate palace at the far side of town. Cal took note of the polished iron rods that were jankily bolted to the stained windows. As the group entered the foyer the waist coat man guided him up the stairs and through a beautifully carved door that bared the visage of the bright gods Lexias and Claria. Lexias held a sword above the sun which Claria held. Together they symbolized justice illuminating truth. Inside Cal found himself standing across the room from a desk that seated Lord Eadon the protectorate of Foremount and its land.

In front of him was a one handed battle axe. Its handle looked as if it was vine and creeping wood. the vine-like wood seemed to wrap itself around a red stone that almost looked as if something inside it shifted. The axe head seemed normal at first glance, but looking closer it seemed to be stained with a dirty gold substance. The handle had a purple cloth shoddily wrapped around it with much dangling off like a flag of sorts. The cloth was obviously supposed to be a place for the user to position their hand. beside the axe was something most in the room could not make sense of. It was a pipe of sorts, that connected to a chunck of metal with runes carved across all of it and had six punctures that ran through end to end. It connected to a handle like the axe, yet it curved as if the pipe was to be held side ways. It wasn't for bashing, nor for throwing, but Cal knew what it was for. They were his after all, and they sat upon his cloak.

"Mr.Gunkrate it is a pleasure for you to journey to our town." Lord Eadon said from his chair. He was a slender man with dark rings around his eyes and hair that looked as if his staff tried to fix it into a combed back clean look, but was instantly messed up into a explosion of flyaways and loose strands.

"Cal." The mercenary answered back, his eyes fixated on his weapons.

"Ah, you must have missed these. Please, take them! They don't seem to be anything my soldiers would know how to wield anyway"

"Don't think your guards at the dungeon would appreciate that much." Cal snarked. as he placed the axe back onto his belt along with the pipe into its holster.

"They wont have to worry, you have been pardoned and are under my protection!" Eabon gave a toothy smile and sipped out of an iron chalice. The raggedy mercenary watched as the cup shook in his thin fingers. "Tell me, Mr.Gunkrate what brings you to our land? Last I heard you were clearing out a kobold camp near Calda. What caused you take the trek through the Mid-Plains?"

"I'm looking for something."

"Some coin? Something lost?" the lord questioned, sitting up curiously in his chair.

"It seems to be." Cal looked around the room. He noticed the room was not in the best of shape, papers and books strewn around the room. Many of the papers he could see had the same name boldly at the top. Harrod Corp. He spotted out of the corner of his eye atop one of the many bookshelves a small canvas bag. and below his feet he could feel a small lumpy line. the lump fell apart the moment he scuffed it with his shoe.

"If you were less vague I maybe able to help you." Lord Eabon's back dropped into his velvet chair, growing impatient with the ragged man's shortness of words.

Cal turned his head back to the worn-looking Lord. "It's a banshee." He said matter of factly.

"Excuse me?" Eabon said stunned.

"You didn't pardon me for no reason, you sent your lackey to get me because you have a job for me. It's a banshee you are dealing with. You put up iron bars on your windows to try to scare it away, and you drink out of an iron goblet as if that would help. There's traces of salt on my boots you must have laid at the door some time ago. You have a banshee problem." The unkempt lord was silent for a moment. He knew of what the ballads sung about the traveler, but never did he expect such a show of his talents.

"Well, aren't you a frank one, Mr.Gunkrate. Usually I lead into the specifics of a job over dinner, but you seem to like to jump right in! I do enjoy your spirit!" The Lord almost laughed in admiration before carrying on, but caught himself and cleared his throat before proceeding. "Very well, yes I am sure you noticed on your way into Foremount, most have tended to stick to the taverns and their homes as of late, this is no coincidence. They are afraid. Same reason why they quickly turned on you. They know something is out there, something that is taking their families...I suppose death tends to equalize us all."

"One of your own was taken?"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"One of my own, one of Samson's there to" Eabon said waving his hand toward the large vested man. "It was my darling Yulda they took. Samson's daughter and Yulda loved to play together near the tree line."

"Pauldina..." Samson croaked as his head fell.

"One moment they were there and the next they were gone."

"They vanished?"

"We thought so at first. We called out to them, screamed their names, even walked into the trees and looked, but nothing. Not until we heard them moments later..." the worn nobleman's eyes darted back and forth for a moment as if he tried his best not to replay the thought in his head until now. His hands grasped at his mouth as if they begged him to stop. "Oh gods...merciful gods..." Cal turned to the large man behind him. The man did not meet his gaze, but his lips began to move knowingly.

"They fell...Damn it. They found a way, somehow, I don't know, but they found a way to the roof and fell." Samson spoke. Eabon nodded in agreement; His hands not leaving his lips.

"That doesn't sound right." The mercenary spoke. His voice was unchanged, yet Samson could tell that the blonde man was mauling over the details. "What of others? I assume if it has gotten a whole town to hide it must have taken more. Have others met a similar fate?"

"My mistress, Rayda. She vanished before my eyes in the bedroom hallway not some nights ago." Eabon said softly. His lips smacked, wet with tears. "She leaped from one of the bedroom window."

"Reports from the town guards say there's been multiple jumps. From Madam Venna's Brothel." Samson stated.

"Has anyone reported wailing? Screams?"

"None that the guards have interviewed at the brothel, not even the ones who jump have made a noise. And they were the women's children." Samson answered promptly. He had been ready for the sword for hire's line of questions.

"I'll need someone to show me to this bedroom window." Cal stated looking back and forth from the two noblemen.

"So you'll take the job then?" Samson asked, his voice though deep and serious up until this point, raised and grew a tiny bit more hopeful.

"I can pay you a thousand in whatever coin you choose, Mr.Gunkrate along with a weeks rations for your journey."

"I need information more then the money, Lord Eabon. Do you have any knowledge of the Obsidian Stairs?" Cal asked hoping to catch a new lead.

"The Obsidian Stairs?" Eabon scoffed in bewilderment. "You are hunting fairytales in your spare time? Seems like a Fae touched your noggin all that time on the road!"

"So that's a no then." Cal remarked coldly.

"How about this? I'll pay you a thousand marks of whatever you'd like, along with your rations and I'll be kindly enough to point you in the direction of a scholar of such fables, hm?"

"Fair trade."

"Samson if you could show him the way?"

Part Three

The room was eerily cold. The air felt thick as if it was suspended and drained of any movement even with the window open and hearing the breeze pass by. It felt to Cal and Samson like walking through gelatin.

"Has this room always felt this way?" Cal questioned the giant man.

"I've never been in here, traveler. Called for the lord from the hallway. Never stepped foot inside." Samson looked around taking it in. Cal looked toward the open window and motioned over and taking in a deep breath of the fresh night air. He looked over the window and pulled from his bag a small leather string with a clear quartz crystal at the end. Samson noticed a slither of purple inside the crystal.

"Quartz and Amethyst pendulum. helps decipher energy." Cal said seeing the confused look on Samson as the crystal dropped from his hand and reached the end of the leather string. There was no movement. The crystal did no sway or spin as Cal had seen any number of times. The sword for hire with road dust still marking his face gave an airy chuckle.

"Well what have you found?" Samson said disturbed by the mysterious man he had heard so much about in the songs of bards. Suddenly a gasp of wind poured into the room from the doorway and the pendent seemed to tug toward the winds source. Aiming right toward Samson. "What does that mean, traveler? What is happening?"

"Hello?" A women's voice echoed through the doorway. "Is someone in the guest room?" It approached closer. Samson's eyes widened staring fearfully at the dirty rider. Quickly he rushed toward the door and poked his head out.

"Madam Eabon, my greatest apologies!" He croaked with a voice as fake as the fabric he wore.

"Why are you in the guest room, you remember the Lord requested no one enters since the incident." Cal could nearly hear the ladies eyebrows furrow with anger.

"Yes my lady-"

"Lord Eabon requested he see me to this chamber." Cal called out from the room.

"Who is that? Who do you harbor in there?" She squeaked with surprise. Samson was just as surprised and barely could make a word out as she entered. Before she could Cal stowed the pendulum in his bag and neared the door.

"Mr.Gunkrate please meet, Madam Eabon." Samson said worryingly. The lady had the hair the color of smoke from a dying fire and wore a dark blue nightgown that hung precariously from her shoulders. She almost seemed to glide across the floor as her gown dragged across the floor. She walked bumptiously proper as if her nose was turned up to the whole ordeal. Cal held his palm out to her as she laid her hand atop it. He gave her hand a kiss and as she pulled her hand away he felt every ridge of her palm, reading it like the pages of a story. He gave an eager grin.

"Kind of you to check in my lady." He said trying his best to hide his smugness.

"This is no check in, but a request to leave the area forthwith. My husband, the lord of these parts-"

"Requested I stay a night in this room. Try to get to the bottom of your banshee issue. I shall be conducting a thorough search. You have my word, Lady Eabon." Cal interjected. Her left eye twitched with aggravation. She gave a squeaky huff.

"Samson, please tell me why my husband has hired some drifter to take care of our affairs rather then one of our soldiers or maybe even a mage? I am sure a mage could quell the beast wailing far better then a ruffian." She kept her eyes on Cal, he could feel the suspicious daggers in her piercing brown eyes.

"This man here is the one from the ballads the traveling bards have been singing of. The mercenary from another plane, if you recall, my lady?" Samson said with a subtle quiver in his voice.

"Well I shall speak my husband of such things." She said in a huff and stormed out of the room. Samson was quick to follow after. Cal sat at the edge of the finely made oak bed. It was adorned in decorative accent pillows and finely crafted sheets. The kind of thing made for looks then for sleep. Cal hadn't slept on a fine bed like this in ages. He slept mostly on the wet grassy floor the Mid-Plains or the crunchy ground of the woods. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he slept on a cot in a roadside inn. even with the thick, stale and unmoving air and the stench of death that lingered in it, this felt better then any to rest his head.

His blissful thoughts and half dosing was broken quickly as a voice he detested crept its way into his ear. "You lied to her. He did not offer this room." A women's voice spoke from the shadowed corners of the room. Out of the corner of his eye the figure of a woman. Her skin flickered with blue light that seemed to be fading from her.

"You shouldn't be here." Cal said without even a glance.

"You hadn't had a drink yet to rid yourself of me. Beat up the bartender before you could even get your sip." She remarked before sitting herself on the other side of the bed. "It isn't a banshee is it?"

"No."

"So why haven't you told them yet?"

"I need to figure out who summoned it first."

"You cant summon a banshee, nor does a banshee make you jump from the roof right after. It only marks one for death, any kind of death."

"It's a slyph, an air elemental."

The shadow woman scoffed at the thought. "From what I've learned of the spirit realm on this plane, and elemental is with the earth, they don't actively haunt."

"Unless a dark blood divination is used. A divination of blood with an offering of half the soul. The conjurer has enslaved the being." He pulled his hair back in thought, mulling over the case.

"That would mean the killed are chosen, the spirit aimed at them like a weapon."

"And all were children... Except one."

"What are you thinking?" She asked curiously he could see her head turn and her pitch black eyes gaze at him.

"I think I have my suspects."

Part Four

Cal tried his best to slumber in the stagnant air of the guest room that once was the Lords playroom with his mistress. He tried to keep the voice of the feminine creature that sat at the edge of the ornate bed from intruding on his sleep, but in his battle he felt her hand clasp onto his shoulder and yell "Cal!"

Suddenly the bed bashed into the wall and cracked and splinted he dove from the bed trying his best to quickly loop the straps of his worn leather jacket and tightening the pauldron that sat atop it. He felt the air change and knew it was about to attack again. quickly he raised his right arm. A tattoo on his arm began to glow and a disk of runes appeared. It was a type of ward spell, something he learned on his travels, he had honed the spell and molded it into a type of shield for himself. The wind bashed against the ward trying its best to make a dent in its magical barrier. He could feel it cracking through the ward the wind touching his nose and the sweet scent of flowers on the breeze beckoning him to the window.

Suddenly another force interrupted the gale and sent it gusting out of the room and into the breeze outside the window. "Rendia!" Cal called out seeing the shadowed woman crumble to her knees.

"That took a lot out of me. I don't have the power I use to in this plane." She looked up at him with her black marble eyes. "I'll need to rest. You get your time away from me after all." She vanished between his blinks. The weary mercenary grabbed his things and began to march toward the door when two more guards came in.

"You two, you understand who I am, what I am doing here, correct?" He snarled. Both nodded to each other and then back to him. "Then you understand that what I say is right by your lord?" They questioningly nodded again. "Get the two men in the dungeon, I'll be needing their services." Quickly the guards rushed out the door. Cal followed behind heading to Lord Eabon's office.

Two hours had passed as Cal and his two half elf companions stood in the office of Lord Eabon. He had sent the two guards to retrieve in the dead of morning all of whom he suspected. "What are we doing again Master Gunkrate?" The twin known as Tarvus asked curiously.

"Hush, we got a chance outta this place, just follow the Merc's lead, like he said!" The one called Warren answered smacking his brother in the chest. Cal stayed silent. The twins could see his jaw grinding his teeth and his foot restlessly bouncing. They knew in the hours they hadn't seen him, something had enraged the traveler. They only hoped they would either be pardoned or he would spare them from whatever came next.

Soon the three entered. Lord Eabon, the Lady of the house and Samson. "What is the meaning of this? What right do you have to wake us this early, sleep in a crime scene and free my prisoners!" Lord Eabon barged in with fury.

"It is not a banshee." Cal grumbled.

"What was that? Speak louder drifter!" Lord Eabon said coming closer to the wayfaring mercenary as if he was some bad dog.

"It is not a banshee!" Cal snipped at the Lord. The lord stepped back as if he came too close to a wild beast. "It is a Slyph. An elemental of air." He elaborated toning back down his voice. "A ritual was performed to enslave the elemental. I noticed when I came in earlier candlewax under my foot. I also noticed when I tried to palm read the lady of the house the prick point where you took your blood for the divination of such spirit.

"My Lord, you let a crazed man into our house!" Madam Eabon said turning to her husband.

"Why would you claim to hear wailing, when it has not been reported by anyone else?" Cal said stepping toward her, brushing passed Lord Eabon.

"You are mad!"

"Oh, I am livid! Seeing as I was almost attacked not long after meeting you madam!" The twins watched the fury of the traveler as he stomped toward her. "Right as I was trying to have a decent night of rest!" The Lady backed up toward Samson fearing the tall vagabond with ice for eyes. "Speak the truth, Madam!"

"Stop this!" Samson screamed moving in front of the lady, "I taught her the spell! I helped her kill Rayda, the damned harlot!"

"Samson!" Lord Eabon gasped. "How could you turn on me like that you villain!"

"Villain? Me?" Samson chuckled, "You have had an affair since the moment you married into her royal blood! You have never loved our beloved Madalyn Eirharn. He said holding the ladies hand. She was only a way for some shit stain from the Marshlands to rise up somewhere. Avart Eabon." He mocked the Lord's name. Cal took a look towards the twins. Warren gave a slight knowing nod and turned away plopping something into his mouth. He tapped his brother trying to persuade him to follow.

"You speak ill on my name, Samson!"

"You have tainted mine!" Madalyn cried.

"Release the Sylph." Cal said sternly to Madlyn.

"No, he took everything from me, he deserves to have it all taken from him!" She squealed.

"Samson, she murdered your daughter!" Cal tried to plead with Samson, hoping to have some sort of extra hand, knowing a fight was brewing.

"She wasn't suppose to be outside! I told her not to be outside..." Samson whimpered, he couldn't face the ice-eyed judgment in front of him and turned his head in shame. It was enough for Cal to get the jump on the two and he quickly swept the large man's leg and dropped him to the floor before going for Madalyn.

As soon as he charged the papers, and books began to fly as the wind came charging in. Cal gripped the cloth of the Lady's nightgown hoping to hold on as he raised his ward once more. The twins rushed to Lord Eabon gripping him and shoving a concoction of herbs in his mouth. None could smell the sent on the breeze that surrounded them. "You two, grab Samson! Eabon, help me!" The wind became furious as the Lord and the wayward man grabbed hold the righteous woman. The wild wind bashed chairs, books and everything in the room at the group as Cal tried his best to block the onslaught of the room.

"Why do we get the big lug?" Tarvus questioned as he tried to lift one side of the large man.

"You want the pissed off witch?" Warren questioned.

A painting flew at Cal and Eabon. Cal swiped it away with his warding shield but did not notice the paper weight that bashed into Eabon's shin causing the man to fall to the floor taking the group with him. "Get him over here now!" Cal yelled through the whooshing winds toward the twins who felt as if their arms were about to give out. He turned back to the struggling woman "free the Slyph!"

"I gave him everything, all he did was take!" she lashed her tongue in frenzied anger.

"I don't deny that, madam, but you've killed innocents'. You killed your own daughter simply to get back at him. release the elemental!" She did not answer his pleas. The twins got the large Samson to Cal. Cal dug into his canvas satchel took a clump of something into his hand. He whispered an incantation and tossed a clump of powered crystal into the air. the powered did not take to the wind but fell and settled around them in the shape of the previous ritual circle. He then took a pin needle from the lady's hair and pricked her finger in the same spot as before. "Samson, I need you to speak the ritual, but whatever word you taught her to enslave, needs to be release instead, do you understand?" Samson only continued to cry. Cal groaned and quickly pulled the pipe with a grip from its holster and poked it to Samson's temple. "This is something I made that is from my world. You do not want to know what it can do to you. Can you do what I said?" Samson quickly nodded and began the ritual.

"Tha mi ag iarraidh gum bi spiorad na gaoithe a 'tighinn dlùth, a' bruthadh le do làmh agus a bhith eòlach orm mar charaid, tha mi a 'leigeil ma sgaoil thu gun a bhith air do ghlacadh a-rithist."

The wind began to stop its howling and items that once flew began to calm. Cal got up from Madalyn and Lord Eabon. Samson stayed to the ground knowing what was about to await him. The two guards that had followed Cal's every ask entered and finally were commanded by Lord Eabon to take the two who created this mess.

"Thank you Mr.Gunkrate" Lord Eabon said with a woesome smile.

"I'll take my pay and go." Cal said bearing fangs at the awful man.

Lord Eabon gave a knowing nod and took from a small chest behind his desk a pouch of coin he then spoke once more. "I hope the things that were said shall stay only in your head." Cal did not nod, but simply stared.

"The directions, please." Cal said.

"Ah...yes...You'll be wanting to head to Avario. A scholar in DubHill. A little north of here. Let my stableman know to pack your rations." Cal began to walk away without another word.

The two twins caught up to him quicker than he expected. "Where to next, aye?" Tarvus asked.

"Why would you be asking me?" Cal questioned tossing the bag of coin in one hand.

"Are we not a team team now?" Warren said nudging Cal's side.

"No. We are not."