Dashyl's Quest

Soern filled his teacup and offered his guests a refill, which they both eagerly accepted. The Kirzan returned to his seat on the cot and slowly shook his finger at Dashyl.

“I was on my rounds, patrolling the city’s defense perimeter. There hasn’t been much action lately, so I’ve been expanding the range of my patrols.” Soern leaned forward and poked Dashyl’s chest, then pointed out the window. “Luckily for you, I went farther to the northeast on this particular day, along the seldom used road that leads to Blue Hollow.”

“Blue Hollow, where’s that,” Fretly asked.

“Don’t interrupt,” snapped Dashyl.

Soern took a side-glance at Fretly before continuing. “Blue Hollow is the one place on this continent that the Akrasa call home. Mostly they are a nomadic people, but some do maintain dwellings in Blue Hollow. They believe it is the place where the Akrasa race originated.”

“I’ve been there,” gasped Dashyl. “The Akrasa, do they have blue skin?”

“Yes. Sometimes green, too,” Soern answered.

“I remember a blue-skinned person took care of me and my dad. I don’t…no, I don’t remember his name.” Dashyl took a deep breath and thought for a second. “All I remember is that my father died, but I lived. He healed me and the next thing I know, I was with the curics.”

“That makes sense,” said Soern, “The Akrasa are healers. They know how to refine and craft radia in ancient ways that most other races on Veratar have forgotten. I run into them from time to time. They avoid the cities, as a rule, but Anchorwatch is close to their homeland and the residents let them do their business unmolested.”

“I have a feeling the Akrasa who helped me is dead,” sobbed Dashyl as pieces of his memory returned. “He’s the one who gave me my dad’s journal. I didn’t know about it before he gave it to me.

“That is a definite possibility, I’m afraid,” Soern said. “If a Krill Assassin was following you, he probably tracked you to Blue Hollow. The assassin had just caught up with you when I found you.”

“What happened,” asked Dashyl.

“I heard sounds of a scuffle, so I left the road and approached from the trees. The assassin had pulled you some ways away from the roadside. He didn’t see me as I hid in the shadows. You were tied up on the ground, gagged and clearly drugged. He had the journal you speak of in his hand and was talking to you. He said that even though he had you father’s journal, he still needed to kill you. He said he was charged with erasing everything about your father and you were the last piece remaining. He then dropped the book on your head and pulled out a dagger. I had picked up a couple throwing stones and hurled them at the assassin knocking him to the ground. Charging from the tree line, I skewered the assassin on my pike before he had a chance to use any of his deadly abilities. You have to kill a Krill Assassin quickly, otherwise…well, no one I know has survived a long fight with one.”

“Did you go through his possessions? Were there any clues about who he was or where he was from,” asked Dashyl.

“That I can’t tell you, my boy,” explained Soern. “You were in such bad shape, the first order of business was to get you to the curics. After staking the dead Krill to the ground, I gathered you and the journal and ran back to the city. I rode the biggest, fastest igwaza in Anchorwatch to carry you to Rathyra. I left the assassin’s body for the Anchorwatch guard guild to remove.”

“Can we go to the guard guild and see what they know,” asked Dashyl.

“That would do no good. No one knows the identity of Krill Assassins and they don’t have any unique markings or identifying paperwork. The body was burned by the guild in accordance with protocol in dealing with Krill Assassins, or anyone else who uses lethal poisons and chemical weapons.” Soern reached over and patted Dashy on the shoulder. “It has been a good while since I saved you. Long enough for whomever wants you erased to realize the first assassin failed his mission and send another.”

“You mean there could be more after me? This wasn’t just one guy,” Dashyl shrieked.

“I wouldn’t rest easy with the belief that this assassin acted alone, Dashyl. Krill Assassins are most often the pawns of a higher power in the Legion. I don’t know who your father was or why his journal is so important, but in all likelihood, others know about its existence, as well as your existence, and will be coming to finish the mission. You just don’t know, so you should be very, very careful,” Soern admonished, but then shifted to a more hopeful tone. “This is your chance to put some distance between you and your pursuers. Throw yourself so far off their trail that they will never find you. I would not waste your time in Anchorwatch. That is your last known destination to them, you could be walking right into their clutches. I would head immediately to Trader’s Haunt. I agree now that this is the most expeditious route to safety.”

“Just the two of us, alone, exposed” Dashyl asked.

“Do not worry. I will accompany you as far as Trader’s Haunt,” Soern offered.

“We don’t need you,” Fretly shot.

“Shut up, Fretly,” Dashyl said. The boy stood up, walked over to Fretly, and leaned over so their noses almost touched. “Soern is going with us.”

“Okay, okay. If that’s what’s happening, then we better tell him,” Fretly said.

“Tell him what,” Dashyl asked.

“That the Kirll Assassins aren’t the only ones chasing us.”