[Arvedui III]

Rangar met Barodin halfway and exchanged a series of fevered blows, then their blades locked, giving the two enemies a change face each other eye to eye. "Does it hurt? Having to sleep every night not knowing why, only that you're an abomination? And then having to face another day." Barodin whispered menacingly. "Two years, and you still think you have right to walk this earth." "At least I sleep." Rangar growled back, tried to knee his opponent and missed. The two began to circle each other again. Get him seething, in anger he'll falter. "You stay up, consumed by your rage. And it makes you so blind as so to corrupt others to the lies you've learned. You have no more right than I to live and breathe."

Rangar barked, just as several screams came from up the hill. "Then let's finish this!" Barodin cried lunging at him, and nicking Rangar on the shoulder as he spun aside. Rangar made the next attack, and the swords locked again. "Just so you know, he died like a coward." Rangar hissed, not knowing truly what he was saying or who he was referring to, but it worked. Barodin howled and kicked him in the stomach. Winded, Rangar dropped his sword in time to see a great silhouette raise his blade. Rangar rolled aside and tripped his opponent. Dropping his sword, Barodin swore and scrambled to his feet just as Rangar did.

It was now a grudge match with no restraints whatsoever. Rangar yelled and tackled his enemy, but as he raised his fist to punch the dotard, Barodin flipped him over began kicking him repeatedly in the sides. Howling, Rangar lunged at his foe, no longer caring whether he had a weapon or not. Something inside of him was shouting that this man had to be killed in the most painful way possible. Every time he kneed Barodin, or managed to get a punch in, Rangar felt better, however his foe was in no way finished.

Just as Rangar lunged at his rival, something hard hit him, and his shoulder flamed, screaming in protest. "You should know by now that I carry daggers." Barodin laughed with a brutal smiled as he grabbed Rangar by his cloak and lifted him off the ground. "So do I" Rangar retorted, and found then thrust the dirk Barodin had used the last time they'd fought, which he had kept. Feeling cruel satisfaction as his enemy hit the ground, a knife in his side, Rangar kick the sprawling figure over, and turned to find his sword, still ignoring the dagger in his shoulder.

But Barodin still has fight left in him. The man roared, and grabbing the dagger from his side, began charging Rangar's unprotected back; And he would have won, impaling Rangar in his shock if he had not lost he footing on the desert pavement and, strangely enough, fallen through some kind of door. Rangar shook his head and struggled to see where he was, a dimly lit stone room with a wooden ceiling. From somewhere above he could still hear his nemesis yelling, "Coward! Come out where I can see you! I've waited too long for this!" "Hullo" Rangar spun around in a panic, and gaped in shock at a small, pale boy with golden hair and green eyes staring curiously at him.

"I'm Gram, who'er you?" Rangar gulped. Was he dreaming, or was he dead? "Where am I?" Rangar croaked."My house, come on. I'm sure you're hungry." "Who else lives here?" "Just my friends, do you know you have a knife in your shoulder?" The boy asked innocently. Suddenly, the pain returned with a vengeance. "Does it hurt?" The boy continued, now beaming at Rangar. "Yes." Rangar said, still far too shocked to believe that Gram, or any of this was real. "Well come on, then. You can meet my friend."

Rangar took hold of the dagger and pulled it forth with a loud grunt, Then, allowed the boy to take his hand and lead him through a series of dark passages before they came to another high-ceiling room with better lighting. Rangar gulped again. In front of him lay an old, apparently blind man, seated on a large, obsidian throne. The Seer Rangar thought in awe as he began to approach the man, and as he did so, his mind raced Was it real? Or was he just dead? What of the others? Barodin? And Turthol?

"A might of help, if you would, sir." A meek voice interrupted his thoughts, and Rangar felt inclined to pay it no heed, as the old man on the throne seemed to stir and blink at him. However, he turned and saw a man leaning against a flimsy rod, that then broke, causing him to fall to the ground. Gram seemed to not give the beleaguered man a second thought, and just simply continued beaming at Rangar, who growled in protest, then turned to help the poor figure. "Thanks" The man said as Rangar helped him to his feet. "This way, if you sir." "But," "Rangar looked back toward the man on the throne, who seemed to be beckoning to him. "Please." The cloaked figure said curtly, and his grip on Rangar's arm was surprisingly strong.

"Who are you?!" Rangar cried as he both lost circulation in his hand and was thrust into a smaller, dimer, room. The cloaked man sat down in a wooden chair, and made no reply; But Rangar could see Gram close the door. "Who are you, and why do you keep me from my goal?" "That old foggy is your goal?" The man said in a very amused voice, removing his hood just slightly so that Rangar could see two, deep blue eyes. "Is he not the Seer?" Rangar asked, now painfully aware that his shoulder was numb. "Sort of." The man said, still in that same amused tone. "Sort of?" "He's more of a poet. He'll spill out all kind of rhyming gobbledygook that'll take you the rest of your days to unravel. And in the end, it doesn't really mean anything."

"So who are you, then?" Rangar asked. This couldn't be happening. "Sort of a more straitforward Seer, though, I warn you right now, I can be intolerable." A chill ran up Rangar's spine, surly, this couldn't be him. But before Rangar could stop himself,"How many questions do I get to ask, and what's the price then?" The man laughed, and once again, Rangar wasn't sure if this was good or bad. "As many as you want. I'm not a genie. And as for the price, the price is knowledge." Rangar started at the riddle, and wasn't quite sure if it was possible for this man to be more entertained if he tried.

"Have to hand it to you too. Few find this place, let alone get past old annoying Malbeth there." And he nodded towards the room where the old man was. "What about the house on the hill?" "It's empty." The Seer replied nonchalantly. "Then, can I ask you something?" "I dunno, can you?" Rangar laughed dryly, the cloaked man grinned, blue eyes twinkling. "You tell me." "That's the problem with you people. You want me to tell you everything." "Could we start from the beginning?"