Tales of the Silver Wolf: part 7

Hey everybody! Here’s the next installment of Tales of the Silver Wolf…Enjoy!
Rahas is back! Fun, fun….; )

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H’kira was perched precariously on the roof of the stables, thinking.

*What’s wrong, bond?*

*Imoen*

*We’ll get her back, bond, I promise*

*We need to get going again, we’ve been her too long, my wolf*

*Rest, bond, we can leave tomorrow when you’re not exhausted*

*Just let me sit here for a while, wolf, I need a minute*

She was still mulling over a few things when Jaheira shouted up to her, “What are you doing up there? Get down before you break your neck!”

The werewolf grinned down at her, “Or what? You gonna come up here and get me?

Jaheira arched an eyebrow and gave her ‘the look’.

“Get down here now, I’ll not have you falling off and killing yourself!”

H’kira sighed wearily, and started down. She abruptly slipped on a loose tile and plummeted off the edge, landing on her back with a loud “thud”. Jaheira rushed over.

“Did your fall injure you? Are you all right, H’kira?” The druid actually sounded concerned.

“I don’t think it was the fall so much as the abrupt stop.” She remained there for a moment as the Wolf healed the growing lump on the back of her head. Slowly she levered herself to her feet.

“Note to self, druids are smarter than they look,” H’kira teased.

“Note to self, werewolves are dumber than they look, and that’s saying something,” Jaheira retorted. They laughed as they walked back to the keep.



Rahas found his love rummaging around a rack full of armor. His wolf, Shardul, laughed mentally, *Why don’t you sneak up on her, bond, it’d be fun!*

*You’re awful, Shardul…Great idea*

Rahas crept closer.

“I hear you,” H’kira muttered and continued her search.

“What are you looking for?” the dark-elf asked.

“Nalia said some mage she knew made a set of armor that shifts for a lycanthropic buddy of his, sometime.”

“Very descriptive, mind if I help you?”

“Not at all.”



Nalia was walking about the Keep, she couldn’t believe her father was dead. She wished she could blame the adventurers, but she knew they had done all they could to help her. Now they were all that stood between her and Isea. She thought of them, her new friends. H’kira, the flippant half-elven werewolf, with her carefree demeanor. Rahas, the drow outcast, always joking around. Jaheira, stern, acid-tongued, yet always there to help when need be. Minsc was still about somewhere, she’d found a sword he might like. Yoshimo had left, the party had no need for two thieves, and H’kira had decided that Nalia needed her help more. What to do? Auntie had left, rather than see the keep in these “brutes” hands. What was next? She decided to find Minsc and give him the sword.



Jaheira heard hysterical laughter coming from a room and went to investigate. She walked in and deftly dodged an incoming pillow. H’kira and Rahas were having a pillow fight? And the werewolf complained that when she called her a child? They stopped briefly and began pelting the hapless druid with pillows of all shapes and sizes. The fight stopped abruptly when Minsc stuck came in, no one wanted to be on the other end of a pillow thrown by the enormous Rashemite.

“Are you done now, children?” Jaheira asked.

H’kira and Rahas hit the floor. Jaheira turned about just in time for a very large feather pillow to crash into her, knocking her halfway across the room. The pillow, thrown by a certain hamster-bearing ranger, exploded into a flurry of soft white feathers.

“Very good idea, Boo, this is fun,” Minsc looked up to see a feather covered druid, “Good idea Boo, lets go.” The Ranger nearly ran for the door.

Jaheira used her fingers to comb the feathers out of her hair, “Did you find what you where looking for earlier, H’kira?”

“Yep.” The werewolf held up a set of black chain mail and yawned.

“You look exhausted, child,” Jaheira said, ignoring the glare she got for the word ‘child’, “Why don’t you go get some rest.”

H’kira headed for the door, Rahas in tow.

“And you, lets see that she ‘gets’ some sleep tonight, is that clear?” the druid snapped at Rahas.

“My, whatever do you mean, Jaheira?” Rahas shot back, grinning.

“Must I explain?”

“Only if we can find Nalia’s aunt first.”

That was just too much. The three adventurers headed to their bedrooms, all laughing their heads off.




The next morning they left for Athkatla, they reached it in the afternoon.


The Wolf sensed something, H’kira stopped and touched Rahas’ arm, “Something’s wrong.” She started off, the party in tow. Soon they were in the government district. H’kira didn’t know what had drawn her here, but whatever it was, it was important. She strode through the streets, following the Wolf’s call. When she reached the appointed place, she understood what the Wolf had sensed…a packmate in danger.

Tied to a stake and in the midst of a rather large pile of firewood, was Viconia DeVir. Her captors were Beshebans.

“Behold this foul drow,” shouted the ringleader of this little circus, probably a head priest or something, H’kira figured. Nobles shouted for Viconia’s death. The leader grabbed a torch and headed for the dark-elf. He was just beginning to approach the wood, when a snarling silver-furred werewolf bounded through the crowd, blocking his path.

“Ahnd Hwat hass she dohne Hmanling? Hwat iss her chrime buht behing dhrow?” H’kira queried, words hissed through wolven jaws.

“She is drow! Is that not enough? A monster cannot understand, burn them both!” the enraged fanatic shouted.

“Iht iss not enough Hman’s cub,” the werewolf spat. A taloned hind-paw caught the man in the stomach, launching him over the heads of the mob, just as one clawed hand severed the ropes tying Viconia to the stake. The nobles, finding themselves faced with an angry drow and a snarling werewolf, did the most sensible thing, they ran like hell. The recovered head Besheban ran up and thrust the torch in H’kira’s face. Ivory fangs sealed his fate. Rahas and the others joined in. Soon after the loss of several comrades, the fanatics fled.

“Quite impressive abbil,” Viconia said, walking over to the werewolf.

“You alright?” H’kira asked, shifting back to half-elf.

“I suppose. I owe you my life, abbil…you have saved me once again. I did nothing to provoke their attack. I was passing through the city when a man guessed my identity under my hood…an you can guess what happened from there.”

The werewolf nodded.

“It would be both a privilege and an honor to join you, H’kira. What do you say to my proposal?”

“Give me a sec, Vic, I need to sort something out.”

H’kira walked over to the group.

“Alright you guys, Vic’s coming with us, Anomen…I’m sorry to do this but she needs us more than you right now, and don’t tell her I said that or I’ll meet an untimely fate…we’ll try to catch up with you later, ok?”

The knight nodded, “I’ll be at the Copper Coronet.”

“Hey, Vic,” H’kira shouted, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Agreed,” came the drow’s reply.

“Viconia DeVir,” Rahas smirked.

“By the gods, abbil, must this impudent male be present constantly?”

“Looks like your stuck with me,” Rahas shot back, and gave H’kira a brief kiss.

“Sickening,” Viconia said.

“You should meet Specter, Vic, you’d get along splendidly,” H’kira tossed in, “Anyways, we’ve been traveling all day n’ you look a bit tired, too. You guys want to find an inn?”

The vote was unanimous…they’d had too much fun for one day already. The group headed off to the Five Flagons.

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H'kira n' the Wolf