Nevyn looked down at his cards in confusion.

Nothing added up to a coherent whole. On the one hand the cards were telling him that everything was fine, people may have had illness - nothing major though - but now they were okay. On the other hand however they showed disarray, distraction, confusion and a general sense of "not-so-good".

He tried, for the umpteenth time, to contact the Meridian family. And once again received only static. The same on the other lines of communication.

Now Nevyn knew he had wandered far from their location and had been busy of late and therefore had missed the annual Yule festival but such a disruption of comunicae had never occurred before.

Nevyn sat back on his haunches and worried. Without even realising it he was fiddling with his Moon-Gazing Hare pendant. Suddenly it grew hot in his hand and he let go, where it then landed on his breastbone and scorched the skin in an indelible oblong mark.

Yelping, Nevyn jumped up and promptly knocked himself out on a thick tree branch above him.

Time passed on around the unconscious Nevyn.......

Coming round, he gazed around, bewildered.

Noticing a sharp pain on his upper chest, and a tingling in his hand he looked first at his hand. It had a blister forming on thumb and fingertips. Puzzled, he used the other hand to touch the painful area at his breast, and lifted a piece of metal on a thong away from his body.

Looking at it upside down it appeared to have a rabbit on it looking at the moon. No, not a rabbit - the ears were too long, the body more agile and the tail less fluffy. It was a hare, gazing at the moon.

Druids, and lovers of nature wore such symbols he knew.

"Hold on." He said out loud. "How do I know that?" Pausing to think for a second he then added, "And who am I, to be wearing such?"

It was then that the man looked around at the glade he was in. Looked at the small pool of what he knew was fresh water, at the strange cards with images and writing on laying on the deep brown cloth by his side. At the swords and bow laying within reach. Then lastly to the light wood staff, bound with blue and adorned with shaman-like items.

"What is going on here? What is all this, and.......and......who Am I!??"

Getting up from the woodland floor the man flinched as his head throbbed. As he did so his vision wavered and changed. Details disappeared and in their place simple colours appeared.

The ground turned a drab brown, the trees a lighter ochre with the leaves a pale yellow. A short distance away a small vibrant turquoise blob sat amongst the yellows. As he took a faltering step towards it, the colour moved towards him slightly, until it left the surrounding yellow.

Stopping, the man closed his eyes for a second, concentrated on his breathing, then opened his eyes again. Sitting where a moment ago the turquoise blob had been was a hare. After a second he realised it hadn't replaced the blob, the blob was the hare - its life-force shown to him, as the ground, and trees, leaves and foliage had also been shown.

"How odd. But interesting too!" he said aloud. Followed by, "Hello Hare. Do you know who I am?"

He did not hear anything aloud, but some tiny echo in his head pronounced, "You are you, and No One." and with that the hare turned and dashed away.

Sighing, the fellow, gathered up the things laying around, placed them in the backpack that lay to one side and sliding swords into sheaths and the quiver to hang by his side. He went to take a step, and then stopped, wondering to himself how he had known how to tidy the cards away Just So and which sword went where and in what order to put things on for maximum ease. Obviously whoever he was there was a routine and a practised method to things that came naturally to him.

Out loud he proclaimed to the world, "Well, for the moment, until I know just who I am, I truly am No One. humph." and with that he strode out of the clearing via the only path, hoping to come across some other person who may be able to tell him just who he was, where he was and why. Something had to jolt his memory sometime!

Half hour ago he had passed a marker stone that proclaimed he had 10 miles to go before he reached the town of Basil's Down.

Somewhere in the back of his mind were the notions that he had just left Thunders Leigh Wood and the fact that he now walked West supported that as somehow he knew that Basil's Down was the biggest town in that direction. But why did he head west, not East toward the South End of Essex?

Well the town should be in sight soon. He'd just passed around the bottom range of trees that marked the heights of Langdon Hills. Yes, there were the first few houses and shack belonging to bound farmers of the area.

Five more minutes of weary walking brought him to a public house. He slipped inside, went to the bar and sat on a high-stool (so much easier to sit on than a bench when you were armed). Taking a coin out of a pouch he slid it to the barkeep and asked for mead.

When the tankard, which thankfully seemed clean enough, came he took a sip. Not bad he thought. Aloud he asked the barman, "Barkeep, is it that I've been here before? I'm having a slight lapse of memory!"

"Well now, good Sir. I do believe I've seen you before. But not so often as I'd know you or name you." The barman said through rotten teeth. The smell of his breath was quite rancid. No wonder the place was mostly empty!

The man calling himself no-one took a large gulp of mead, preparing to leave and try another tavern.

A shadow fell, and a moment later the seat next to him became occupied. A gruff voice said, "You are no one. A member of the Helm. What happened?"

Mead held part way up to his mouth no one looked at the newcommer, puzzled. "I don't understand. You appear to know me, yet you say I am no one. And what is this Helm you speak of?"

The stranger chuckled. "I didn't say you are no one, I said your name was Nevyn. No One in the old tongue. Nevyn Swiftarrow to be more precise. And the Company of the Helm are your friends and colleagues, adventurers all."

This gave Nevyn pause. Nothing came back to him. None of what this man said brought any memories back.

"Can you take me to these Helm? I hope they can help me. And who are you?"

"Me? I am but a man who knows the evil deeds of the Helm to which you associate yourself. But my master knows of you and would like to meet and help you - show you how your abilities could be used to help him and others who would see the Evil of the Helm quenched!"

As he had spoken the stranger had gotten more and more passionate, his words holding much vigor and belief.

Nevyn somehow doubted his words. Something sparked a warning in his head. Aloud he said, "hhmmm it sounds as though your master may be able to tell me more of who I am, and it seems I may have fallen in with the wrong crowd until now." Inside his head though he very carefully quested for that vision that showed the aurors of those around him. Finding it he carefully brought a limited version into view.

Nevyn saw the man sitting next to him clearly enough still, but in and around him was a dark blue, almost purple, haze. It was shot through with streaks of black, and one of those streaks left his body and disappeared into the distance. Nevyn shut his sight down, but carelessly, and the stranger's eyes went hard for a fraction of a second, before once again looking friendly. He smiled and asked if Nevyn would like another.

"No, thankyou, but I still know not your name?"

In reply the stranger said, "I am Lokk. and my master is Waiting for us. Shall we?"

After a moment Nevyn replied, "I am no fool Lokk. I may have lost my memory but I do not follow strangers lightly. I require proof of who you say you are, and still you say not who your master is. "

Lokk gave a smile, then nodded his head slightly and said, "Indeed you are wise Swiftarrow. My master is a Cleric of high-standing, and a man of magic. Principle Form is his name, and he enjoys the knowings of the workings of things. As for proof of myself, well why do you not read my cards?"

Nodding, Nevyn turned to his satchel and saw two bags which he knew contained his Cards. One set he had seen already when he tidied camp, though he had not studied them he knew them to be his favourite set - that of the astro. The other set was a Fey set, and tended to be more tricky to read, as was the fey in nature in general.

He withdrew this set, emptied them into his palm and proceeded to shuffle the cards, while maintaining chatter to keep Lokk's attention away from the cards. As he shuffled Nevyn very cleverly let slip a few of the cards back into his satchel, then proceeded to lay out three cards on the bar.



First came the Three of Pentacles. "Well now, this one tells that you are the apprentice to a Master. You are here to do his bidding and to learn." Lokk nodded sagely.

The second card showed the Three of swords. "This card shows of an internal battle. You maybe regret what you do, or have self-doubt." Nevyn looked up at Lokk, where a far-away look had come upon his face. But in an instant it was gone and he said "I'm not too sure you have that one right Nevyn. Please move on."

The third card was the Six of Wands. "You are the bearer of gifts, a messenger. Possibly you are carried where you go by another."

Nevyn stopped there, watching for a reaction. He got none, but a small smile at the edges of Lokks mouth, that did not reach his eyes.

"And so, you know I am who I say I am. I am a messenger, asked to guide you to my master. Will you come?"

Nevyn placed the remainder of the deck of cards on the bar, stood then paused a moment. "Yes, I believe I will. I shall just gather my cards and then I shall follow you. It will take but two moments."

Lokk nodded, and stood up and then headed for the tavern door.

Nevyn turned to the bar again, took the card's bag out of his satchel, while also cleverly taking out the three cards he had dropped there earlier. As Nevyn collected up the other cards, and placed them back in their bag he also spread the three cards on the bar in front of him.



Nevyn then muttered a few words and the resin of the bar top seemed to melt slightly and flow over the cards, embedding them above the wood, but under the protective resin that sealed the wood. He whispered to the barkeep, "Show the Helm, and Goraxe. Please."

Nevyn then turned and strode out of the bar to meet Lokk.

As the two of them walked along, there appeared in front of them a shimmer, like the surface of a pool disturbed by a wind.

Nevyn paused and asked to where the portal led. Lokk replied, "to my master. This portal will speed the journey." They passed through.

Lokk told Nevyn, "follow my steps exactly. Veer off course here and you could end up anywhere!" and with that Lokk progressed forward in a halting manner, pausing every so often to concentrate. When this happened Nevyn noticed that the way ahead seemed to move, rotate and shift, and then solidify slightly, almost as though Lokk were thinking the path ahead into being. After a while another shimmer lay ahead and the two exited into a woodland, with a path leading to a watchtower.

Lokk led Nevyn on and before long they entered a round building, filled with shadows but for a chair placed next to a fire pit. Sat upon the chair was a man with silver hair and long fingers. He had a dark cloak, outlined with a lighter colour on. Other than that not much could be seen. One of those fingers twitched. The man seemed not to notice at all. In fact he kept remarkably still, except for the head which turned to look at Nevyn. A gravelly voice spoke from the figure, "Welcome Nevyn. Please come in, I have been waiting for you."

Nevyn was walking along a well trodden path, having just returned from a personal mission. Ahead was a watering hole owned and run by the Helm's Seven Serpent's. The trip to Titan had actually been quite a pleasant one, which was unusual for this place.

This particular tavern, on the edge of the Pagan Plains, which was south of Chalice, Silverton and Selomnis was quite a decent place. Though it had recently had a change of landlord and he did not know the new man. He would need to change that over a tankard of mead.

Entering the tavern, Nevyn went up to the barman and introduced himself as Nevyn Swiftarrow, of the Helm. "Your name please good Sir?". The barman replied that he was John. "Do you have a room I could hire please John?"

The barman nodded, called over a serving girl and told her to take Nevyn up to the third room on floor two.

A while later, having freshened up, Nevyn made ready to go down for that tankard of mead, and some food. Before he could open the door however there was a knock on it. Pulling open the door and revealing the serving lass from earlier Nevyn asked if there was a problem.

"Umm, no problem Sir, unless there is a problem, Sir? No, umm, there's a gentleman downstairs asking for you to join him, Sir."

Following her downstairs, she then pointed the gentleman in question out. Slightly unsettled Nevyn made his way around so as to approach this man from behind. As he did so Nevyn opened up his sight to see this man's aura but found it shielded. Interesting! He wanted to know if he could tell Nevyn was approaching.

Apparently he could, as he soon spoke up, inviting Nevyn to take a seat.

As he came near, Nevyn called to the barman, "John, mead for this gentleman and myself please." The barman replied - "He has already paid for the mead Sir, and the food, and well - enough to pay for the entire nights entertainments by all the patrons!" The newcomer smiled. "I have a hire for you Nevyn. If you wish to take it."

A while later, with many questions asked, answers given and mead drunk, Nevyn agreed to the hire. Ralph Dowl and Nevyn made their way outside to meet the people Nevyn had been hired to show the way to a Monastery on the Plain of Zion at the Windy Plateau near the Ice Mountains of Len.

Walking towards the tavern were Raziel, Vhal and two others he did not know but had been told were Adlass and Aldric. Which was which was fairly obvious from the girth and height, or rather lack-of, of one of them. Nevyn made eye contact with them both, then pointedly turned to Raziel, bade him welcome and asked him for introductions to the two he did not know.

A short while later, and with Ralph Dowl gone about his business, Nevyn went to the bar, placed his hands flat on the bartop and muttered some words. He then proceeded to go down the steps shown to him a short while before. Where he had lent were two sets of two cards. Each with a card overlaying another in what seemed a random way.

Nevyn knelt down next to a casket. One that would automatically seal when the lid closed. He held the lid open just enough to be able to get to what was inside but closed enough that the lid would drop the instant he let go.

Inside was a sphere, purple shot through with ice-blue in swirling patterns. When Nevyn heard the first set of feet patter down the stairs he took his other hand, lifted his dagger partially out of its scabbard and nicked his fore-finger on the blade. A drop of blood oozed out. Moving his hand near to the casket he waited.

"I recommend you all get as close to me as possible. Preferably touching." And he waited some more.

Finally the dwarven feet pounded down the stairs and scurried over to the others. Nevyn touched his bloodied finger to the orb.

The group disappeared. The lid slammed shut, sealing instantly. All was quiet in the tavern basement.

Hours later, as it neared dusk outside the tavern, Nevyn re-appeared. Alone. And holding a grey ball and a murky white and nobbly item. Long and thin. If there had been anyone there to see it then they would have sworn it looked like a very large finger bone. But there was no one there but the rats.

The ball glowed for a second and then turned to ash. Without bothering to check he knew the other ball - this one in the casket - was also ash.

Having cleaned his hand on his trousers Nevyn then went over to where he had left the majority of his travelling gear and started to empty it, never once letting go the object. At last he found what he required and sat back on his hunches. He checked the tube for length, then opened it. Taking a scrap bit of cloth he wrapped the object in this and then placed it into the message tube and re-sealed the end. Nevyn then put the strap across his shoulder and chest so the tube lay where he could protect it.

The pack got re-packed then slung over his shoulder and the stairs to the bar climbed.

Upon entering the bar, the barman looked around and started to hail Nevyn to welcome the group back. When he realised Nevyn was alone and heading purposefully for the door however the words died in his throat. Once Nevyn had left he checked the basement, and finding it empty hurried back upstairs in order to send a message to the Company of the Helm.

Time passed. But events did not change much. Nevyn had not seen the silver haired man in the dark cloak with the lighter outline at all since returning, which he thought was most strange.

Surely if the item he had secured was that important he would have wanted it straight away? Lokk had become a bit of a thorn in his side too. The man never truly gave a straight answer to anything and he and his troops unsettled Nevyn as there was something distinctly "dark" about their ways and means, which struck him as not his way at all despite what Lokk said. All in all there was a lot to think about.

Nevyn had recently found a spot, out of the way of the constant troop movements, to sit and meditate. He went there now.

Laying out his meditation throw Nevyn knelt on the edge and took off his twin belts. He took out the tube of wax that had its home in the back pocket of the leather pouch and proceeded to wax each of his bow strings. It was an unthinking action that just came naturally to him and eased his mind into a state of peace.

The hairs on the back of Nevyn's neck stood on end and something tugged at his unconscious mind. Something close by. Bringing his thoughts back to the hearabouts Nevyn cast around for the person or thing that had set him on edge, but the feeling had receded somewhat. "Most odd." he thought to himself.

Feeling now more than a bit agitated Nevyn packed his things away. As he buckled his belts back onto his waist one of the items gave him a mild static shock. He went back to camp for some bread, cheese and mead.

For the rest of the day he was snappy, almost getting into a fight with at least two of the guards, and was unable to relax or calm down. The feeling that something nearby wanted his attention did not waver, but what!?

Nevyn went to bed early that night and had vivid and disturbing dreams. There was an energy there, just out of sight, when he turned towards it it moved, always just out of reach. Nevyn woke several times that night in a cold sweat and the next day was fatigued as though he'd been in a Vaagan battle arena.

He'd found it impossible to meditate from then on. Something blocked him, some sort of mental barrier. This troubled Nevyn. Sleeping little, eating less, dark circles appeared under his eyes and the good-food tummy he had been gaining fell away.

That feeling that something close by was blocking him persisted. There was a waterhole within camp that was sometimes used for bathing so one night, lit by a full moon and cloudless sky, Nevyn shed everything near some trees and walked naked to the bank.

Wading in, goosebumps raising across his skin, Nevyn lay on his back and floated, gazing up at the moon in all her glory. She smiled on him.

Fatigued as Nevyn was, he slipped into a trance easily. Then he slipped from his body and was looking down at himself floating on the water. Mildly panicked a voice, female and strong, came to him and warned "Be careful Nevyn. Do not travel on the Astral when tired, returning will prove hard and painful." Nevyn naturally replied, "I understand Carla. It is enough that I remember how."

Having spoken to Carla, or remembered speaking to Carla, or imagined doing so, Nevyn came back to his senses. Still floating, a silver cord dangling from his naval to the body below he thought of how to return while he still had strength.

"Hold on! Who? Who is Carla!? Why do I know that I know her? I shall have to think on this! But wait - what's that?" Along the bank, where his clothes lay, there was a silvery-blue glow emanating from inside something. And he saw a patrol getting closer to his position also.

Not wanting them to see the thing that glowed, or himself, he thought of his body and sank, then heard a rushy click and looked out of his body's eyes once more. Making for shore Nevyn carefully made his way to his gear and looked for the glow. There - a slight glow from the dagger sheath. Nevyn pulled the dagger out and with it the glow intensified, causing a shout of warning from one of the patrol.

Nevyn touched the glowing blade. A sharp static shock jolted up his arm which promptly went numb up to the shoulder. The glow disappeared. Resheathing the dagger Nevyn started to dress - hard with just one usable hand - when the guards approached.

With barely concealed contempt they questioned what Nevyn was doing there. "Taking a swim. It's not a crime." The guard who had questioned him growled. Nevyn stared at him and something about the stare unnerved the guard who stammered to the others to move on and leave him to the night.

Once cloathed Nevyn walked slowly back to camp. Thinking. In the instance of the shock of pain from the dagger several things had come clearly to mind. Most important was that the dagger was his burden - no other may control it. Secondly a female face which he associated with Carla. And lastly a tall man, all in white and serious. He said, without talking, "Return my property and live."

Nevyn slept. For 26 hours he slept. He woke up hungry, with his arm still numb.

Nevyn sat at a bench, eating breakfast of a venison stew and a chunk of bread. He tried not to make it obvious that his left arm was numb still.

He ate slowly, chewing each hunk of meat and veg carefully, feeling the texture and consistancy of every mouthful. Memories had returned to him during that extended sleep, and now he mulled over these, much as he was his breakfast. Checking details, working out the reality from the lies and then deciding where that left him.

From that one memory of Carla flowed others. A large, jovial but also potent man - her cousin. No name would attach to him yet, but he saw him in two distinct memories. The first was of him reading the cards for Nevyn, the second of him picking a substantial lock on a chest.

Next was a quick witted man in blue suede, beige packs hanging from back and belt. Deadly to enemies, but viciously loyal to friends. "Rengard", muttered Nevyn, then laughed.

At the next table several guards glanced at him and muttered to themselves. One got up, leaving his bowl half-full and left.

Other memories, faces and such things slid through Nevyn's mind. It was like a chain. Remember one link and the next appeared. This metaphor made Nevyn chuckle darkly. Such an apt methaphor considering the situation he was in!

Oh yes! He remembered now the trip to the Planes, helping the Company of the Helm gain the plateau then leaving them, making his own way into the Monastary, and there taking The Flute. Only one person saw, and he was one whom Nevyn knew not. Not through memory loss, but because this man was new. But old. Somehow very, very old.

Having finished breakfast, regained his strength and recovered more memories, the process of which had started in the long sleep, Nevyn took out his tarot deck and proceeded to do a reading for himself. It was the first time he had felt confidant enough in himself to know the cards and their meanings and patterns.

There were several things Nevyn still did not know. The name of Carla's cousin really should come easily to him. And what the dagger was and did still eluded him. the cards did not answer these questions, however many other things were confirmed and guidance was gained. Nevyn stored the cards safely away and rose to leave. As he left the room two guards fell in either side of him and a third behind - this the man who had left his breakfast half eaten. He proclaimed that "Principle Form requires your presence."

Outside of the building where he had previously met with Principle Form stood Lokk, a smile on his face. To Nevyn the expression sat totally wrong on his face. Saying nothing, he turned and led the way inside, leaving the guards outside.

The room was still dark, save for the fire and the light it cast. The man in the dark robes with the silver hair and long fingers sat in the seat. It seemed as if he had not moved in all the time that had passed since their first meeting.

More than ever Nevyn was disquieted by this man. Something did not sit right with him. But he dared not use his sight as Lokk would notice and so too, no doubt, would Principle Form.

The gravelly voice emanated from the man. "Nevyn. You have the item I sent you for." It was not a question. Nevyn replied, "Indeed, though I wonder why it has taken so long for you to summon me, Principle Form?"

Lokk answered for him, "The Master has been busy, and the item is of use in the future, not the present. It needs studying before application." Nevyn nodded, "So I am to work out its potential?"

Rocks ground together as Principle Form said, "Give it to me now Nevyn."

Managing to look sincere, Nevyn replied, "I have it, but not on me. I substituted it for a stick a while ago in case something should happen to me." Upending the message tube he slid out a stick and showed the tube was now empty. He then replaced the wood and capped the tube. Lokk growled and bared his teeth. 'Ah, his true nature surfaces at last!' thought Nevyn.

Rocks bubbled and hissed in the molten blood of the earth as Principle Form said, "Two days. Return with it in two days or suffer!"

Nevyn was escorted to his tent. Inside he took out the stick and placed it in front of him. He thought of the Flute and the stick in front of him straightened, smoothed out and holes bored themselves down its length.

Picking it up and idly twisting it this way and that Nevyn considered things. He concluded that whatever that man was it certainly was not the real Principle Form. It would have recognised the Power in that stick. He suspected some sort of golem or construct, with limited movement and speech. It was probably pre-programmed with trigger based commands, but could be made to accept instant commands at high magical cost and from a short range. The real principle Form would be near by.

He had been given two days to re-acquire the Flute. Two days in which he could leave the magical compound and travel abroad. It would be enough.

Nevyn was allowed to exit the magical compound in order to retrieve the flute. He knew just one route in and out and that was the one that brought him back to the Basil's Down area. Lokk had not been best pleased to let him go, but it was on Principle Form's orders that he did so.

He had warned Nevyn that the route in was guarded both magically and physically so he wasn't to try anything!

Stepping back into this reality Nevyn spooked a farmer and his wagon-horse, which reared and pawed the air. Backing away while appologizing Nevyn went off the road and around then headed for the tavern where he had first met Lokk.

Nevyn entered the bar, which was as empty as it had previously been.

He walked over to the bar and to where he had merged his cards with the bar.

There was a neat square missing where his cards had been. The barman, breath as disgusting as before, glared at Nevyn. "You!" he said with scorn. "I've had no end of trouble because of you!"

Nevyn said "Why is that then? Who cut out part of your bar? Oh, and a tankard of mead please?"

The barman poured and handed over the drink. Then said, "The same man who has been pestering me for information om you. Big bushy beard, long black coat, something ancient and scarey in his eyes - like he knew Exactly who I am down to the last little detail. Given me nightmares he has! Told me that if you turned up I should give you this.