The Saga Begins

[Gnasch]

The Saga of Tammy
Chapter One: Into Norrath

Tammy looked up at the large door to the Game Wardens office. Iron banded, twelve feet high, it looked like the doors to a barn rather than something as auspicious as the Game Warden for Everquest. Taking this as a bad sign of what she was going to find inside, she pushed it open and stepped into the relative darkness of the anteroom. The door swung slowly shut behind her, taking away what little light was flooding in from the street. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the small room until she spied a clipboard hanging from the wall, a quill and ink sat on a small ledge next to it. She glanced at the clipboard and saw names scrawled on the small lines that ran from left to right. They had all been filled and other names where etched in the margins until the whole thing looked like the wall in the privy in Sanctuary. While she was searching for an empty space to scrawl her name the quill squawked at her.

Â?Name!Â? It shrieked. She jumped and the clipboard swung back into the wall with a bang, the parchment came unfastened and floated onto the floor.

Â?Tammy.Â? She said, bending over to pick up the paper on the floor.

Â?Your kidding?Â? The quill asked, its tone rude and condescending.

Â?No, just Tammy.Â? She sighed, she had gotten a lot of that since coming to Norrath.

Â?Tammy the lustfull? Tammy the Brave, anything like that.Â? The quill asked expectantly.

Â?No, just Tammy, thatÂ?s all.Â? If a quill could give a confused shrug, the one on the wall did.

Â?Ok, just Tammy, sign the paper and wait in the chair.Â? She signed the paper in a small corner that had just a bit of space left and then turned to sit. There were no chairs, not even a bench.

Â?ThereÂ?s no placeÂ?Â? She gave up. Talking to a quill was rather ridiculous in and of itself and she wasnÂ?t going to complain to one. Leaning against the wall she waited patiently for something to happen. There was only one other door in the room, another banded wooden door, like they were expecting invasion at any time. She shook her head, it wasnÂ?t like people were clamoring to get into Norrath like they were over near Azeroth. She pulled a small stick from her tunic and began to worry the dirt out from under her nails. The door opened with a bang, she heard the bottle smash and the quill give a muffled scream as the door bounced off of the wall. There was a tall man standing in the door way, covered in leather armor from head to toe. His face was partially hidden by a cowl that gave an attempt at looking like eagles wings.

Â?You Tammy?Â? His voice rumbled in the small room.

Â?I am.Â? She replied, putting the small stick back into her tunic. The tall warrior looked her up and then down, a frown on his face.

Â?Hmpf, well then better come along with me.Â? He turned back into the hallway. She followed him in.

Â?You have my name, might I have yours then?Â? She asked, not impressed so far with Norathian manners.

Â?Kraknor the Magnificient.Â? He said proudly.

Â?Your kidding?Â? She asked. He spun around on her.

Â?Why? What have you heard?Â? He said quickly, his voice a little to squeaky.

Â?Nothing, really, I just have never heard of a name like that.Â? He narrowed his eyes.

Â?IÂ?ve a double slayer rating in orcs and gnomes so donÂ?t mess with me.Â? He puffed up and continued down the hallway. She rolled her eyes in her head and continued on. The hallway turned several times, apparently to go around rooms that had been expanded. This was nothing like the glittering Blizzard hall or the simple Guildwars building. This seemed ready to fall apart at any moment, she was afraid to lean on the walls. The hulking thing in front of her paused in front of a door, he looked over at her and she wondered if she was going to have to remind him how to turn the door handle. From someplace in his finite intelligence he recalled how to do it and he turned and opened. She silently clapped for him, knowing how difficult that must have been, turn and open all at the same time. She followed him into the room, him clanking and banging his way through the door, her quietly moving behind him. The room was larger than the others, several wooden chairs ringed the walls and a small table stood at one end, a wizened old elf sat behind it, grey robes with little adornment covered him.

Â?This is, uh, Tammy, from uhÂ??Â? Kraknor looked back at her.

Â?Recently from Angmar.Â? She said to the elf, trying to ignore the hulking warrior. The elf looked up at her and then back down to his parchment sheets on the table.

Â?Have a seat then Tammy of Angmar.Â? He pointed a wrinkled hand to the chair opposite him. Klaknor looked back and forth between the two of them. Â?You may go now.Â? The elf told him, he nodded and then clanked his way out of the room.

Â?I am MarÂ?tial.Â? The old elf said pleasantly as he shuffled some of the papers in front of him. Â?Ah here it is.Â? He pulled a rather long sheet from the pile and ran his finger down as he read quickly. Â?I see that you have been around a good deal, but never in Norrath before.Â? He stated, she couldnÂ?t tell if it was a good thing or not.

Â?Well, I was here a few times on a guest pass, but never stayed.Â? He nodded as if he understood completely.

Â?And now you wish to become a citizen is that correct?Â? He was tapping an old gnarled finger on the parchment.

Â?Yes, I suppose. I have some friends that are in Freeport and IÂ?ve decided to do some adventuring with them.Â? He nodded again and she wondered if his head was on permanent spring, bouncing every time he tried to move.

Â?And your chosen profession would be what? Wizard, Enchanter?Â? He had begun writing as he spoke.

Â?No. Fighter.Â? She said. He stopped writing.

Â?Assassin, scout?Â?

Â?No. A warrior, fighter, you know armor, swords and the like.Â? He put his quill back into the ink well.

Â?Your kidding? Women arenÂ?t cut out for that sort of thing you know. The armor can get quite heavy. I do recommend you chose one of the light armor classes my dear.Â? She tried not to roll her eyes as she looked at him.

Â?IÂ?ve been a fighter in more realms than you can imagine Martin.Â? He winced as she mispronounced his name. Â?I can hold my own with the best of them.Â? He shrugged and took up his quill again and began writing.

Â?As you wish, Tammy, fighter, Freeport.Â? He scribbled for a moment and then blew on the parchment to dry the ink and then handed her the paper. Â?Go through that door and you will be given a basic set of equipment before you are turned out to the island.Â? She took the paper from his wrinkled hands and walked through the door that Klaknor had gone through. Another hallway presented itself, doors on both sides without marking. The elf hadnÂ?t told her where to go so she began walking, assuming that she would run into wherever she was supposed to be. The last door on the left had a simple sign on it, Â?Newbie OutfittingÂ?, she shrugged and went through. Another large room, this one was filled with piles of weapons and armor, all strewn about the floor in a haphazard collection of gear and dust. A grumpy dwarf sat behind the counter, his eyes barely peering over the edge.

Â?Name!Â? He grumbled. Â?And papers.Â? She handed him the parchment scroll, he mumbled as he read. He looked up at her and then back down at the parchment a few times. Â?SomÂ?tin wrong wit dis.Â? He pointed at the paper. Â?Say fighter.Â?

Â?ThatÂ?s right, fighter.Â? She said again. The dwarf looked at her, staring at her chest, she bent over so she could meet his eyes. Â?Fighter.Â? She said. He gave a snort and then began rummaging around in the pile, picking up a few things as he went. He came back with a small bundle of leather armor and a beaten up old sword, its scabbard was moth-eaten and looked like it would disintegrate at any moment. She picked up the armor and held the pieces out.

Â?WhereÂ?s the rest of it?Â? She asked. The top was no more than a leather halter and the bottom was a leather thong with a small skirt attached to either side.

Â?ThatÂ?s it. Female fighter gear. Antonia Bayle design.Â? She curled her lip up, she had underwear that covered more than this.

Â?How am I supposed to fight in this.Â? She twirled the thong around on her finger.

Â?DonÂ?t know lass, but thatÂ?s whatÂ?s on the list for you lady fighters.Â? She snorted.

Â?IÂ?ll just wear what I have on.Â? She started to put the leather armor back but the dwarf held up a finger.

Â?Cant let ya do that lass, rules say that you cant take anything into Norrath from the outside. Your gonna have to shuck that stuff you got on now and leave it here.Â? She wondered if this was some sort of joke but the grumpy little dwarf didnÂ?t seem like he had much of a sense of humor. She asked herself again for the thousandth time if this was a good idea. Aknor and Stumph both said that this was a great realm and she had fought along side them before, but this all seemed so juvenile and stupid. She looked at the outfit that the dwarf had given her, not only couldnÂ?t she fight properly in this, she would more than likely catch cold just walking around in it.

Â?Fine! WhereÂ?s the changing room?Â? The dwarf indicted a curtained off room behind him and she stomped past him. She changed quickly, bundling up her old things carefully. She stood for a moment in the ridiculous outfit that the dwarf had given her, it was drafty and uncomfortable an she felt like a harlot parading around in it. She pulled the sword out of the scabbard and checked the blades edge, it was dull and nicked and would take quite a bit of work to get it back to fighting form, she slammed it back down in the scabbard, wincing as she remembered the poor condition it was in. Returning to the main room she ignored the leer from the dwarf as she walked towards him. She silently fumed, only a man could have designed this outfit and called it fighter gear.

Â?IÂ?ll take that bundle then.Â? He handed her a ticket. She looked down at herself and tried to find a place to put it, she finally had to tuck it into her top. The dwarf chuckled and she thought of bludgeoning him with the dull sword. Â?Go through that door there.Â? He pointed at a blue faded door. Â?ThatÂ?ll take ya to the ship to the Isle of Refuge. Good luck.Â? He grinned as she turned and walked away. She kept telling herself that she was going to kill Aknor if he so much as raised an eyebrow at her.

The blue door opened to the outside, a cool breeze was coming from the ocean, she got goose bumps as the wind blew over her skin. A set of docks extended far into the water, a large ship was tied up alongside one of them and there were several people moving about near it. She sighed and started off towards the ship. She could see the stares before she got close enough to hear the comments. Sailors in the rigging had stopped working and the dock hands were all looking, making no effort to hide their obvious appreciation. A tall human stood behind a podium and she strode up to him.

Â?Is this the ship to the Island?Â? She asked, annoyed because his eyes were no where near hers. Â?Hello.Â? She said and banged her hand down on the podium so hard that some of the papers slid off and onto the dock. The mans head rattled for a moment and then he cursed and bent over to pick up the escaped parchments.

Â?Now look what youÂ?ve done!Â? He shouted as some of the papers drifted lazily down into the water. She glared at him and he huffed and puffed for a few more minutes.

Â?I said, is this the ship to the Island of Refuge?Â? She asked again louder. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, trying to look intimidating.

Â?Yes, and you are?Â?

Â?Tammy.Â?

Â?Tammy? What sort of name is that?Â? He took her parchment from her and looked over it.

Â?Its mine thank you, now stamp it or whatever it is you do so I can be on my way.Â? He scribbled on the paper and shoved it back to her and then took a long pole from the dock and tried to fish out his floating papers. She folded the parchment over and then remembered she had no place to put it so she curled it into her hand and strode off to the gang plank. The sailors were all staring and one of the deck hands was more than obvious in his ogling as she boarded the ship.

Â?Best put this in order right nowÂ? She thought as she stopped in front of the young man. He was of average build, his hair tied up on a knot behind his head, he was shirtless and obviously thought himself quite the looker.

Â?Enjoying yourself?Â? She asked as he looked her up and down. He grinned at her. She kicked him square in the solar plexus and he dropped like a heavy sack to the ground, groaning and holding his middle. She looked around the rest of the ship. Â?Any one else want a look?Â? She shouted and the sailors became busy doing other things. A burly man with a scar traveling the length of his face from forehead to neck walked up and looked down at the groaning sailor and then at her.

Â?First mate Gurl.Â? He said and offered his hand. She shook it, his grip tight and strong.

Â?Tammy.Â? She replied, expecting the same incredulous reply, she got none, he simply nodded and took the parchment from her hand. He quickly read it and motioned for her to follow. His eyes never left hers. Gurl went up a few notches in her book and she followed him below decks.

The ship was cramped for all of its size, there were several state rooms, each with three bunks in them, he opened the cabin door to one of them.

Â?Your cabin. Trip takes three days, meals at watch change three times a day, foods paid for so eat what you like. No showers or baths, fresh waters for meals only so you have to clean up in the salt water.Â? Having finished his speech he lumbered off down the passageway. She looked at the state room, the three bunks were along the far wall, stacked on one another, the middle and bottom bunks already had some gear on it, so she undid her sword belt and tossed it onto the top bunk and then climbed in. So far Norrath had been a pain and thoroughly unenjoyable, she hoped that it would get better. She wasnÂ?t sure what the Isle of Refuge was but she hoped in included something to kill, something to vent a little frustration out on or she was going to decapitate the next person that said Â?your jokingÂ?.

Next: Chapter Two, the Isle of Refuge

[Gnasch]

Chapter 2 the Isle of Refuge

The ship swayed back and forth, Tammy had never like ships and liked this one even less for its occupants. The two bunks below her were occupied by a pair of sisters also going to the isle. They giggled a lot and it set TammyÂ?s teeth on edge, she had little time for gigglers and the way that they preened themselves before going above decks made her ill. They had tried to engage her in conversation a few times, remarking on her outfit but Tammy had ignored them in hopes that they would just leave. She ate her meals quickly and retreated back to her cabin as fast as she could. The second day out she had passed through the below decks area where the crew bunked, taking a wrong turn she had suffered her way through the half hidden stares and muffled comments. Her treatment of the young man when she boarded seemed to have quelled any amorous intentions on the part of the sailors but it did little to relieve her of their stares. She had passed a group of men crouched around a small table, small piles of money were stacked in front of each of them and she stopped to look. They quickly averted their eyes and tried to get back to their game. One of the older sailors looked up at her, apparently not cowed by her glare.

Â?Jacks and queens youngster, want a hand?Â? The young man sitting next to him started to protest but he backhanded him with a thick leathery fist.

Â?Fine.Â? She said and wedged her way between two sailors, trying to be as demure as possible in the tiny outfit. She had a small bit of money that she had managed to get past the dwarf at the Wardens office and she pulled it out and placed it on the table. The old sailor cautiously reached over and took a coin to look at it. They were gold coins, Crowns they called them in Gondor where she had adventured last, he held it up to the pale light and then bit on it.

Â?Good enough, worth maybe twenty silver apiece.Â? He said, looking at her, she nodded and the cards were dealt. She had played similar games in other lands, the idea was to assemble the best set of seven cards that you could and then bet on each as they were played. The small pile of money in front of her had grown and she quickly added several Norrathian coins to the pile of Middle Earth money that she had started with. After several hours the crowd at the table had thinned out a bit and she swept the pile of money into a small bag she bought from the old sailor.

Â?Come back and play some more Tammy.Â? He said as she stood. The other sailors grumbled a bit, beginners luck many of the whispered. She looked around the group.

Â?Tell you what.Â? She began. Â?If any of you have something decent to wear IÂ?ll buy it from you. Several of the men looked at one another, and one of them, about her size got up.

Â?I got some things, wait here.Â? She jingled the bag, taunting the men at the table with their own money, grinning as the older men chuckled at the younger mens discomfort. The sailor returned with a white duffle tied up with a rope. He undid it and poured it out onto a nearby bunk. She rummaged through the items and tried on a leather tunic and some pants, she also picked out a set of boots and some cotton shirts. They haggled and she bought the lot for less than what she had won.

Back in her cabin she tried not to think about where the clothes had been previously and vowed to wash them thoroughly as soon as they reached the island. She felt much better fully clothed and went up topside and tossed the skimpy outfit she had been wearing into the fire bin and gave a small salute as they caught fire. When the sisters returned to the cabin she was sitting on her bunk honing her sword with a stone she had borrowed from the cook. The blade was not very well made but it would have to do until she could afford better. The girls looked disapprovingly at her as she sat there. They were both dressed in white robes, a large hood fell off of the back of their outfits. They sat giggling and talking about one of the sailors as Tammy set the stone to the metal. She could see them wince every time she scraped the stone along the blade and she made the strokes slow and as loud as possible. She half listened to them as the chattered about their journey and where they were going. They were both healers and were off to Freeport, they talked about the adventure and all the things that they were going to see. Tammy wished she could be there when they were faced with a snarling orc or a growling bear that wanted nothing more than to eat the two of them. Tammy had been adventuring for a long time and had seen girls like this come and go. They had given her their names, but she thought of them as Fluffy and Muffy and she fervently hoped that Freeport wasnÂ?t full of airheads like them.

After what seemed an eternity the lookout called land ahead and Tammy went above decks to get a glimpse of the Island of Refuge. She wasnÂ?t impressed to say the least. To call it an island was a overstatement. It looked like one good bowshot could clear the whole affair easily and land in the water on the other side. She had been instructed that the Island was run by a rouge Duke and that he was the one she would have to arrange passage through to get to Freeport itself, after of course she had proven herself on the island. She stood on deck as the ship was towed into the dock, there were several people waiting for them, she could spot the usual, tinkers and gamblers and some official looking sorts. The gang plank lowered and she was the first one off, not waiting for the rest of the lines to be tied up. She pulled her papers from her tunic (a vast improvement from keeping her stuff in her halter) and handed them to a well dressed man standing on the pier.

Â?Name?Â? He asked, she braced herself.

Â?Tammy?Â? He raised an eyebrow at her.

Â?Occupation?Â?

Â?Fighter?Â? She replied. He looked at her.

Â?WhereÂ?s your gear?Â? He looked her up, down and up again.

Â?It caught on fire during the trip, couldnÂ?t be helped.Â? He frowned but continued on.

Â?Sure youÂ?re a fighter, wouldnÂ?t care for a Mage or Priest?Â?

Â?No, fighter, im sure.Â? She held out her hand and he gave her back the parchment which she rolled up and put back in her pocket.

Â?Lodgings are in the clearing through the portico there, see the dwarf on the other side, heÂ?ll get you set up.Â? She nodded and walked away. The two sisters approached the man and giggled when he asked them their names. Giggling should be a capitol offense, she thought as she stomped off towards the portico. The beach was separated from the mainland by a large cliff that had been walled off, apparently against invasion, although who would want to struggle over this overgrown rock she couldnÂ?t imagine. She had low expectations of what she was going to find, and she wasnÂ?t disappointed. The clearing was perhaps a thousand yards across, a combination of wall and natural rock effectively closed the clearing off and turned it into a large bowl. There were two other entrances other than the one she had just come through, a larger one to her left and another small one directly across from her. The area was covered in green grass and tall maples and oaks that threw shadows across the ground, twisting about as the wind gently moved through the trees. In the center of the clearing stood a tower rising three stories above the greensward, looming over the copse like a forbidding giant ready to crush anything that came close. Small tents were scattered around the perimeter and people moved back and forth across the clearing, some plodding as if they had all the time in the world, others running as if their life depended on it. On the western side of the bowl a small building with a rambling deck was tucked up against the rock, she heard the sound of a smiths hammer ringing across the lawn, smiling she headed off in that direction, hoping to replace the piece of garbage that she was given.


People rushed by her as she walked across the clearing, she raised a hand a few times in greeting but got no response. As she passed the tower she saw the source of the hammer blows, a dwarf sat alone next to a fire pit and anvil, banging out the dents in a chest plate. She approached slowly, making sure that he was aware of her, the smiths that she had previously encounter were usually bad tempered and prone to fits if they were interrupted. The dwarf gave a few more blows and then set the hammer on small metal table, he picked the chest plate up with a pair of tongs and dumped it hissing into a barrel of oil. Tammy wrinkled her nose up as the fumes wafted past her. The dwarf turned and eyed her for a moment.

Â?Â?An jus whaÂ? ha the cat dragged in this time!Â? He said, his mountain accent thick. She gave him a small grin.

Â?Tammy.Â? She said, dipping her head slightly. Â?IÂ?m in need of a proper weapon.Â?

Â?WhaÂ? be wrong wiÂ? that ya have there?Â? He nodded at the sword hanging from her hip. In a blur of motion she drew the sword and brought it down hard on the anvil, the blade shattered, breaking off less than a foot from the hilt, which she threw on the ground in front of the dwarf. To his credit he hadnÂ?t even flinched, he bent over and picked up the broken hilt, running his thick fingers across the broken blade.

Â?Get this from Drogos back at the indoc center?Â? He asked.

Â?Yes, the best he had I think he said.Â? The dwarf shook his head and tossed the hilt into a scrap bin. He walked around her once and then twice, scratching his chin and muttering. He told her to hold up her sword arm and then gave her a metal rod, roughly the length of a sword and told her to hold it as she would in a defensive stance. The then placed weighted rings at various points and asked her how that felt. When he was satisfied he took the rod carefully and marked down with a quill some figures then he asked her about armor. She explained what she wanted and he got out a small measuring tape and measured her from top to bottom.

Â?Two days, come back an IÂ?ll have the lot done and ready.Â? He said as he turned and began rummaging about his metal stocks. Having been apparently dismissed she walked across the clearing to the small building with the wide porch. There was a wooden sign hanging in front, a rough painting of a bag overflowing with money adorned its weather beaten face, she hoped it meant what she thought it meant and clattered on the small boardwalk under the covering until she stood before the building and a old weathered man.

Â?Banker?Â? She asked him as politely as she could. He nodded and smiled.

Â?Name?Â? He asked as he entered the building.

Â?Tammy.Â? She replied, he paused for a moment then continued on. She entered the well lit room, it was very orderly and clean, two desks sat opposite one another in the middle and a long bench ran the length of the front of the building, separating the customers from the rest of the room, part of the top swung up and the banker let it back down as he went through. On the far side of the room a metal door made of bars sat slightly ajar, a large paddle lock hung open from the grill. She wondered who in their right mind would rob a bank on an island as small as this, where would you run to? The banker returned with a large ledger, he placed it on the counter.

Â?Sign here to open your account.Â? He pointed at a line in the ledger book, she took the quill and signed her name. He peered at the signature and then blew on the ink to dry it before closing the book. He pointed to a door to her left.

Â?Your vault is through there, you can access it anytime day or night, just make sure that there isnÂ?t anyone in there before you barge in.Â? She nodded to him and looked at the small door. She hadnÂ?t noticed it when she had come in, and having seen the outside of the building she didnÂ?t see how there would be much of anything beyond the doorway. Shrugging she pulled the door open and paused in surprise, the room was perhaps twenty feet deep and half again that wide. Magic, she thought as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. The room was filled with bins and boxes, large wooden and metal chests sat on the floor. She gazed across some of the items until she came across an envelope that had her name written across it. She recognized AknorÂ?s shaky writing as she tore the envelope open.



Tammy.
Glad you could make it, we put some stuff in your vault for you, take what you need. There is a bunch of gold in the small chest near the corner, I know you wont be happy until you get some armor done up to your standards. Get yourself through the isle as quickly as you can and weÂ?ll meet you in Freeport.

Aknor


She put the letter back in the slot and began rummaging around the boxes. She found some jewelry in a box marked Â?imbuedÂ? and examined the rings and necklaces and earrings. Each had a small tag on them explaining what their particular charm was. She picked out a set of items that carried charms for strength and speed, the rings were a little loose fitting and the necklace hung uncomfortable low but she managed to get them all on, she felt the charms take effect and stretched as her muscles flooded with new vigor. She opened a field pack that she found and began filling it with items from the chests. Dried food and some flagons of liquid that, knowing Aknor, she wasnÂ?t sure she wanted to try, she also found a tent and the box of money. She stood and surveyed the room, knowing that if it was magic then she wouldnÂ?t have to worry to much about security. Closing the lids and making sure that everything was where it should be, she opened the door and stepped back out into the bank room. Closing the door behind her she made sure it latched, then throwing the pack over her shoulder she walked back out into the sunlight.

Â?Find everything you needed?Â? The Banker asked as she passed him.

Â?I did, thank you.Â? She gave him a small wave as she moved across the clearing, looking for place to put up her tent. She found a spot on the other side of the tower, there were a few tents scattered around the area and she picked a spot equal distance from all of them, she had no mind for visitors or friendly neighbors. The tent was a single, not much more than some canvas and a few poles to keep the weather off and it was quickly assembled. She had no cooking gear, so after securing her things as best she could she walked across the clearing to where she had seen a peddler set up. A collection of ragged tents and boxes surrounded his small makeshift bench, he was a human, rather plump and unwashed, she smelled him long before she was in talking distance. Ignoring the foul odor she began to look over his wares. Several shelves contained dried food and trail fare, none of which looked particularly appetizing. The weapons and armor were along the same lines, beaten and worn and she assumed, vastly overpriced. The merchant eyed her closely as she picked up a few knives and hefted them. She settled on a small sauce pan and a fork, knife, spoon and a wooden ladle. Handing over the money she thought of what she could buy with that in Azeroth or Tristram. She fervently hoped that the prices were more reasonable in Freeport, or the gold that she had wouldnÂ?t last too long at all.

Her next stop was the tailors tent, he fitted her for some boots that would slide into the plate boots that the dwarf was making, she bought a shirt and a few sets of pants to go with them. A bow and several braces of arrows she found at the bowyers shop, not very good for what she wanted but she assumed it was the best she was going to do. Carrying everything back to her little camp she carefully rolled up the bow in some oil cloth and hung it from the inside of the tent to keep any water away, she did the same with the arrows.

She lit a small fire and pulled some of the provisions out that Aknor had left for her, she chewed on some of the dried apples while she heated up water for tea. The stars shone brightly across the velvety black of the sky, the large moon however glowed brighter yet, its fragments showing the violence of its demise. She had asked on the ship what had happened to the moon, it looked like a tea cup that had been smashed and left floating in the air. The old sea hand she asked had spun a tale of gods and vengeance against the speaking peoples of Norrath. While she had experienced the wrath of gods before, she thought it rather odd that they would destroy an entire moon in their pique. She steeped the tea leaves and poured the tea into a battered tin cup she had bought from the tinker. The smell of cinnamon wafted up to meet her as she leaned back against her pack, voices from the other camps drifted through the night. The rowdy singing of a group of dwarves, the quiet conversation from a strange group of grey skinned skinny creatures she was told were called Erudites, and every now and again the tittering of the Muffy and Fluffy made her cringe. She let the fire draw down to embers and crawled into the tent, her first good nights sleep since arriving in Norrath.

She was up before the sun as was her ritual, she fed the fire with a few twigs and then put on her soft boots, shorts and a thin cotton shirt, took her bow and arrows and set off jogging. There wasnÂ?t much room inside the bowl and she decided that she would see some of the rest of the island and try to get something more sustaining than dried fruit for dinner. After two circuits of the tower she headed to the main entrance to the island proper. Short battlements lined the other side of the large doorway, spiked poles sticking out away from the camp. Two guards stood on either side, casually looking out into the gloom, she gave them a wave and sprinted into the darkness. She preferred running in dangerous areas, it gave her exercising more meaning and occasionally a better motivation to run that last extra mile. The area beyond the bowl was a narrow valley, not much larger than the bowl itself, there were trees and rocks scattered about on either side of the small path that ran its length. She saw shadows moving among the trees as she ran down the path, grunts and occasional voices filtered through the boles as she ran, she kept her eye out for game of some kind, rabbits or small fowl that she could cook up for dinner. Seeing nothing she paused when she came upon another doorway cut into the rock, the flickering light of campfires danced across the valley wall opposite the trail. She jogged in place for a moment and then turned back the way she had come, she would save those campfires for later when she was better armed. The darkness was fading away and grey light fell from the treetops, leaving the ground in shadows as she passed by the guards again.

Entering the bowl she made another circuit and stopped in front of one of the smaller of the two doorways. She had come from the dock yesterday and noticed this door when she had come in. Cooling off from her run she walked quickly through the portico and found another beach. This one stretched for several hundred feet in both directions before running into the cliff walls. More importantly she saw large sand crabs crawling back towards the water, unlimbering her bow she walked slowly towards the water. She notched and arrow and pulled, aiming at on of the crabs, the hard chitin shell would be to hard for the bronze arrow head so she aimed at the soft spot where the legs joined the body, letting fly she was rewarded with a high pitched scream as the arrow sunk halfway into the crab. It turned in circles, its large pincer trying to get hold of the arrow in its side. She walked slowly up, another arrow at the ready, the crab eyed her approaching and decided that she was the author of its torment and tried to crawl towards her, its claw arm waving in front of it, snapping open and closed. She drew back and waited for a good opening near its head, the crab stumbled on its damaged left side and she let fly again, this time the crab made no sound as it sank to the sand, the last of its life ebbing away with the tide. She waited a moment for it to become perfectly still and poked it with the butt of her bow. Satisfied that it was truly dead she pulled her arrows out, cleaned them off and then hefted the crab onto her shoulder and walked back to her camp.


She split the shell open as she fed the fire up higher, separating the meat from the shell. She had some spices that she took from the vault yesterday and sprinkled them over the meat as it sizzled in the small pan. The claw came apart quickly and she added the tender meat, she was sprinkling some sage over her breakfast when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Two of the dwarves from the nearby camp were approaching, their eyes bright and merry. She didnÂ?t like company, but you never knew when someone was going to save your rear end out in the field so she smiled as they came to the fire.

Â?A provisioner then lass?Â? The taller of the two dwarves said.

Â?Im sorry, a what?Â? She asked, not knowing what he was talking about.

Â?Provisioner, your making crab cakes are ya not?Â? He pointed at the pan.

Â?Its my breakfast, if you want you can pull up a rock and have some.Â? The dwarves looked at one another, shrugged and sat on the ground. Tammy added some salt and a little pepper to the pan and flipped the meat with her knife. When the meat was flaky and white she pulled a few of the pieces out and handed the pan to the dwarf closest to her. He peered into the pan and took out some meat with his fingers, she didnÂ?t know how he wasnÂ?t burned, she was blowing on her own meat to cool it off. The other dwarf did the same. Their both nodded and mumbled with their mouths full as they ate.

Â?That be the best food ive had since landing on this rock.Â? He said, wiping his mouth with his shirt. Â?Are ya makinÂ? any ta sell?Â? She looked back at him.

Â?To sell?Â? She didnÂ?t know what he meant, every where she had ever been you caught your own food and made it up yourself, or bought it from the General store in town. She certainly wasnÂ?t a cook!

Â?Aye lass, you can make a pretty copper sellin food like that to this mob.Â?

Â?Well, im not a cook so to speak, I just make what I need for myself.Â? They looked at her disappointed.

Â?Ma name be Durham Stonefist and this be Gorn Hammertoe.Â? They both stood and gave a small bow.

Â?Im Tammy, pleased to meet the two of you.Â?

Â?Tammy then is it, well you humans are a bit strange in your ways, a fine name im sure.Â? Durham said as he fished around the pan for more crab meat.

Â?Ranger?Â? Gorn asked her, pointing at the bow.

Â?No, I just use that for hunting, im waiting for my armor and weapons.Â?

Â?A fighter then!Â? Durham exclaimed with glee. Â?Not many of your kind go in for the fighting, they choose to stand off in the background tossin spells or arrows into the fray.Â?

Â?Ya.Â? Said Gorn. Â?Cant see any of that then, nothin like bein in the thick o things, up close and personnel if ya know what I mean.Â? She nodded, she liked these two, they were the first ones that hadnÂ?t given her a hard time about her chosen occupation.

Â?Well lass, were off, got some goblins to kill and Gorn here needs a few spider legs so weÂ?ll be sein ya in the field.Â? He paused as he got up, looking at her with a merry twinkle in his eye. Â?And iffin ya got some more vittles like that weÂ?d be moreÂ?n happy ta take em offin your hands.Â? He gave her a wink and then the two of them strode away.

The sun was rising over the lip of the bowl and the shadows were creeping away as she tied up her bow and quiver in the top of her tent. She strode off in the direction of the tower, wanting to see what was inside, she passed other tents, some with feet still sticking out of them, others with ragged groups huddled around fires eating scraps left over from the night before. The tower stood in the middle of the bowl, it rose several stories above the field, windowless stone, broken only by a large doorway. She climbed a small series of steps and entered the base. Inside was perhaps twenty feet across, a spiral stairway wound its way around the interior and disappeared into the heights.

A small desk sat against one wall, littered with papers, chunks of rock and other debris. A small man sat in a chair writing furiously, his back to her. She gave a small Â?ahemÂ? and the man seamed to go into spasms, knocking over his inkwell and almost falling out of his chair. Tammy stepped back as he flailed around trying to recover his parchment and right his inkwell at the same time, doing neither to any effect. He turned around and glared at her, his fingers covered in black ink, the soggy parchment in his hand dripping onto the dirt floor. She tried to suppress her laughter as he made quite a comical figure, it came out as a cough as she covered her mouth.

Â?Now what!Â? He shouted, waving the paper around, flinging spots of ink. Â?Look at this, what do you mean sneaking up on me like that!?Â? She raised an eyebrow. He fumed for a moment and then tossed the parchment on the table, grabbing a rag he tried to wipe the ink off of his hands.

Â?IÂ?m Tammy.Â? She said, offering her hand and then thinking better of it drew it back to her side.

Â?Well Tammy, you have ruined my work for the day, thank you very much!Â?

Â?Well I certainly didnÂ?t mean to startle you, your rather jumpy.Â?

Â?Jumpy. Jumpy! YouÂ?d be jumpy too if you had to work under these conditions.Â? He waved his hand around the tower. Â?I cant finish one thing and another pops up. Do this Derik, do that Derik, why arenÂ?t you done with that Derik!Â? He slumped back into his chair and put his head in his hands before realizing they were covered in ink. He looked back up at her, black finger marks on either side of his face. This time she couldnÂ?t resist and burst out laughing.

Â?Sure. Fine. Go ahead and laugh, im sure its just all fun and games for you people. Lets see what mischief we can play on Derik today!Â? He tried to wipe the ink from his face, which only smeared it and made it worse.

Â?IÂ?m sorry Derik, I didnÂ?t mean to cause you any mischief, I only wanted to see the inside of the tower.Â? He waved her off and sat in his chair looking miserable. Â?Is there something that I can do to help?Â? He opened an eye and stared at her for a moment, waiting to see if this was a joke.

Â?You want to help me. Oh right, sure.Â? His eyes narrowed a bit as she stood there staring at him. Â?Really? You would help me out?Â? He was almost pleading.

Â?I did startle you, unintentionally of course, so let me help you clean up this mess and you need to get that ink off of your face before someone takes you for a bear cub.Â? She smiled at him and his face lit up.

Â?I could use some help.Â? He said jumping up. Â?Last night a group of gnomes wrecked the crafting room, I was supposed to straighten it back out before the Master came back, I was also supposed to have these letters written.Â? He stared down at the ruined parchment then looked back at her. Â?If you could straighten out the crafting room I could try to get these done, that would be a big help.Â? She shrugged, her armor and weapons wouldnÂ?t be ready until the following day and she had nothing else to do until then.

Â?Ok, show me this room then.Â? He leapt up from the chair, almost dancing, he ran over to a cellar door on one side of the tower.

Â?Here, this is supposed to be locked but the lock got busted a few weeks ago and the pin has gone missing.Â? He pulled the doors up and they groaned and squealed. She looked down the stairs into the inky gloom. Â?Everything is down there, throw some more wood into the fire if you want and there are some tapers in a jar on the mantle to light the sconces.Â? He was talking faster and faster, his words almost unintelligible, trying to get her down the stairs before she changed her mind.


She gave him a little grin and stepped into the cellar, there was a small set of stairs and she had to duck down to get under the archway. The room was oblong, fifty feet at the longest and thirty at the narrow. A small fire smoldered in the fire place set into one of the long walls. There were several pieces of apparatus arranged around the room, she noted the stove and oven, its tin chimney disappearing into the wall. Next to that was a small forge, the fires long gone cold, hammers and tongs lay on the floor in front of it, small rivets and beads lay scattered about. At the other end was a small loom and shelves of sewing tools. She walked over to a set of sawhorses and picked up some scraps of wood and tossed them into the fire, she poked the embers around until the wood caught and pulled a taper from the jar and lit the sconces around the room. Lit up it looked worse than it had in the gloom. There was trash everywhere, papers and bottles strewn about. It looked as if a band of slobs had lived down here for quite a while. There was a dustbin in the corner, empty of course, a broom and shovel.

Sighing, she took the broom and started at one end of the room and marshaled the debris into a large pile in the center. Everything that would burn she tossed into the fire, the as the heat increased it drew a breeze down the ladder and cleared out some of the stale air. When the floor was clear she set about straightening the work stations. The devices themselves werenÂ?t in bad repair, they had just been neglected for too long. She was always one to appreciate fine craftsmanship, be it weapons, armor or a finely wrought piece of jewelry. The stove was filthy with grease and dried food spatter, she found a bucket and pump in a small alcove and tore some rags from the loom and scrubbed it clean. The pots and pans were next and she had to dump her bucket and refill it several times before she was satisfied.

She drew a few pieces of coal from the bin next to the forge and set them in a small shovel and pushed them deep into the fire. Going back she dredged the firebox clean and scraped the slag from the anvil and replaced the tools. She filled the firebox with fresh coal and retrieved the glowing ingots from the fire and placed them in the center and shut the door. Working the bellows slowly she fanned the fires inside until they glowed white. Remembering the door way and the trouble the poor Derik was having, and being of a mind to use some of these stations over the next few days, she donned the leather apron and grabbed some scrap tin with the tongs and made a pin and hinge for the door. Dirty and sweaty she inspected her work. Â?Not badÂ? she thought to herself, it had been a long time since she had worked a forge, but it was like riding a horse, once you learned you never really forgot. She put the pins in the oil bucket to temper and cool. She made a note to herself to see if Derik could get the oil changed out.

She didnÂ?t know how long she had been down there but she was tired and a bit hungry. The room was in much better shape now than it had been in when she arrived and she was sure that whoever came down would be delighted that you could see the floor at least. There was still the pile of bottles and cans and she frowned as she looked around the room. The dust bin was full so she settled on a large piece of scrap cloth that hung over the back of the loom. She laid it out on the floor and placed all the remaining debris on it then folded the corners up and had a makeshift sack. Wiping off the pin and hinge she took her bag of trash up the stairs and back into the tower.

Derik wasnÂ?t there and the sun had traveled far across the sky and was working its way down towards dusk. She dropped the sack and took out the small forge hammer and knocked out the broken hinge and replaced it with the one she made. The doors still made an ungodly sound so she went back down and got a small jar of the tempering oil and oiled the hinges. The doors moved almost silently now and she dropped the lock pin in the hasp. She turned to leave when Derik came stumbling back in from outside. He looked at her and the sack of garbage on the ground and then at the new lockpin, then back at her again, his face contorting in several different ways.


Â?I Â? I .. uhÂ? you Â? uh Â?.Oh gods.Â? She thought he was going to cry and she cringed a little when he stepped towards her. He stepped past her and looked at the lock pin, taking it out he worked the doors several times, muttering to himself. He let the doors bang open and descended the stair way, Tammy stepped out into the fading sunshine stretching the aches in her shoulders, she pulled the band from her hair and let it fall, shaking the dust and dirt from it. She turned when she heard Derik rattle back up the stairs, he was almost floating.


Â?Its never been that clean.Â? He danced across the room on his toes. Â?The Master will be thrilled. Oh thank you thankyouthankyou.Â? His words ran together and Tammy held up a hand to try and hold him off but he almost leapt at her and before she knew it she was in the middle of a huge hug. His balding head only came to her chin, she looked down and tried to pry him off of her.

Â?Ok.Â? She said to him as his stream of thank youÂ?s kept coming. Â?OK!Â? She wrestled his arms loose and pushed him back. He blinked and then turned and ran towards his desk.

Â?I have something here for you, for all that work, all that wonderful work!Â? He opened a drawer and dumped its contents on the desk and took a few items out and turned back to her. He handed her a book first.

Â?ThatÂ?s a crafters guide, I kept it here in case someone needed it, but nobody ever has, its loaded with all the plants and herbs and minerals in Norrath and how they can be used.Â? She thumbed through the pages, it was indeed crammed with charts and tables, she nodded appreciatively. He pushed a parchment note at her next.

Â?ThatÂ?s the name of some friends of mine in Freeport. Go and see any one of them and you will be given access to the crafters guild without having to bother with application, my vouchsafe is good enough. She nodded again, any leg up was a boon as far as she was concerned. He turned and opened a cabinet door and pulled out a large rucksack and handed it to her. .

Â?I never did get around to using this, its still like new.Â? She could see why he wouldnÂ?t use it, it was a fighters pack, tricked out for weapons and provisions. It was a good strong leather and the stitching seemed to be nice and tight.

Â?Thanks Derik.Â? She put the note and book into the bag and slung in across her shoulder. As she turned to leave Derik grabbed her arm.

Â?Feel free to come and use the crafters room anytime you like Miss Tammy, anytime at all.Â? He nodded as if trying to convince her of his sincerity. Then his face fell and he looked worriedly at the cellar door.

Â?What?Â? She asked, wondering if there was something that she had left undone.

Â?Oh nothing, its just that those gnomes are still here and they might come back and vandalize the place again. I have to be down at the docks tomorrow to wait for a very important shipment for my Master andÂ?. Oh I donÂ?t know what im going to do.Â? Tammy looked back at the door herself. She had spent all of the day cleaning it and had every intention of using the stove at least and it would put her out if she had to clean it again.

Â?What do these gnomes look like?Â? She asked. Deriks head snapped back to her.

Â?Well, they are rather gnomish if you know what I mean, all in garish colors. The leader is a few inches taller than the rest and I believe that he goes by the name of Ranill Flangerobber. The others I donÂ?t know im afraid, but if I am not mistaken they are the only band of gnomes on the island at the moment.Â? She rolled her eyes to the sky, why hadnÂ?t he said that to begin with.

Â?Ok, donÂ?t worry about the gnomes.Â? He couldnÂ?t believe his ears, he started to pour out thank youÂ?s again but she held up her hand and looked rather stern. Â?DonÂ?t thank me anymore ok?Â? He nodded and started to say something and clapped both hands over his mouth. Â?Very good.Â? She smiled and picked up the bag of trash and walked out of the tower. Derik stood there, not knowing what to do, having just had the best day of his miserable stay on this island.


Ranill Flangerobber was taller than the others of his band, something that he was extremely proud of and took no end of pleasure in reminding everyone that this was in fact the case. He took the best of the loot, the best of the food and the best of the gnomish girls that they ran across. The others took little notice because after all, he was the tallest and having decided that the tallest was in fact the best leader they accepted it. Silly as it was, when the gnomes made up their mind there wasnÂ?t much that would dissuade them. They all looked up to Ranill, he may be a bit pushy but he was always the first into a fight and the last to leave.

He was very popular also, not just within the gnomish community but with the other races also so it wasnÂ?t a surprise when a rather pretty voice called his name from the darkness. What was a surprise was that after he called out in answer, a bottle smashed upside his head, sending him into a loopy dance that ended up with him face down near the privy hole. One of the other gnomes leapt up to help him and he was also brought down by a glass missile. The other gnomes, being rather quick on the uptake, sat very still even as the other two lay motionless on the ground. Their eyes got wide as they saw a white apparition floating through the air, arcing above their camp, they struggled not to move but when it began to fall they all scattered. With a loud crash as it landed in the fire with a harumph, sending sparks and shattered pieces of glass around the campsite. The bravest of them peered over the log which he had flung himself over, the apparition was a white cloth bag, it had burst open when it landed and he could see it was filled with broken bottles and trash, the cloth caught fire and ignited in a burst of flame which sent him flying back over his log.

Â?What is it.Â? The gnome next to him whispered.

Â?Bag.Â? He said, trying to catch his breath.

Â?Bag?Â? The other asked incredulously .

Â?Ya, Bag, full of trash.Â?

Â?Trash?Â? The other asked again.

Â?Ya, trash.Â? He replied annoyed at all the questions.

Â?Trash from what?Â? Another gnome asked.

Â?The crafting hall, thems all the beer bottles we drank up.Â? He cautiously reached over the log and retrieved a large piece of broken glass and showed it to the others. It was a brown glass bottle and they could all make out the Habbenstower stamp near the neck. Gnomish beer. They all peered out cautiously at the gloom surrounding them, waiting for another attack.

Â?Derik?Â? Asked one of the gnomes.

Â?Naw, not Derik; to chicken.Â?

Â?Not Derik, then who?Â?

Â?Big magician maybe, didnÂ?t like us messing up his tower.Â?
Â?Ya, mebby big magician.Â? The others nodded, this made much more sense than Derik finding his spine.

Â?Stay away from tower then eh?Â? The smartest among them concluded.

Â?Ya, tower, bad.Â? They all nodded and having settled that they all crept off towards their tents, leaving their unconscious leader where he was. No point in pushing a magician to far after all.

Next Chapter Three: Waiter, theres a Goblin in my Soup!