CHAPTER TWO

Stray dropped the young boy unceremoniously on the floor and pointed to a chair by the wall.

"Sit and be quiet!!" he boomed.

The boy's high pitched bellowing of "DON'T EAT ME! DON'T EAT ME!" lessened to a quiet whimper, but the pleading did not end. "Please-don't eat me-Please..." Tears streamed from the boys cheeks and his face was ashen white from fear.

Stray placed his axe on a wall hook and locked both of his doors. He almost wished his heart were cold enough that he could eat children. One less young rat might make this world a better place--his world anyway. But despite his disdain for people and children, he was not a cold-hearted killer.

"What's 'yer name and who's 'yer parents?" He asked the shaking boy.

The boy at first seemed to have lost his voice, but eventually gathered enough pluck to speak. "Kane." He whispered. "And-and I have none."

Stray, who was fully prepared to light into the boy stopped at hearing the name. He had heard of this child. For where most children in Dereth were natives; born to parents that had been the ones to heed Asherons Call, this one was not. He had appeared just as the others who had come-shaking in the dirt after being ripped from his home world by a portal. Having no parents and a pronounced limp from an injury during his birth, he was provided for but not truly welcomed. For only the most menial and simple tasks could be assigned to him. Even though Strays irritation at the boy was obvious,
deep down he related to the boy in a way. For Stray had also lost his parents at a young age, and an accident with a reckless hunting partner and a poorly shot arrow had partially blinded and disfigured him for life. Much of this led to him being the gruff and cold man he had become.

Stray pushed off his feelings as he usually did and let his anger form his face into a scowl. "Hear this boy. I'm not gonna eat ya see.. Not yet anyway." He growled. "But if I see yer face anywhere near my house again, you'll be pot luck for sure!" Walking his way to the door, he unlocked and opened it allowing light into the musty room. "Now get outta here and tell your friends that Old Man Stray says he ain't hungry today; but don't count on that next time!" Kane didn't take a second to bolt from the chair and hobble out the door. With no reply to Stray, he went back
towards Cragstone as fast as his crippled leg would allow.

Stray closed the door again and took a deep breath. With much muttering and angry gestures, he began preparing some rice and fish for his breakfast. Just as he sat down to partake, he heard another sound emanating from outside his door. Flabbergasted that the children would actually pull this prank again after what had just happened, he grabbed his axe once again and flung open the door expecting another scene to ensue. Instead, he watched as a thin, fair skin man in an expensive robe approached his door.

"Are you Dayen Stoutstaff?" Asked the man warily eyeing the axe held aloft in Strays hand.

This was actually Strays true name; though he had not heard it spoken that often by the people who knew of him. The villagers, because of his wandering eye had given him the name Stray. He had accepted the name only because he felt it represented him as a person as well-he was a stray, with no ties, and no desire to have any. Using his given name, the question lent stray to believe that he was about to be offered a job.

Strays livelihood consisted of going into places and recovering items of interest for those that did not desire to get their hands dirty-namely the Arcanum. So far he had never failed at any given task , and had become renowned for his tenacity in getting any job done. It wasn't so much that Strays' fighting abilities were that great; but he thought nothing about dying. It was not uncommon for Stray to get killed twenty or thirty times while making his way through a dungeon or tower. Each time he would trudge his way back to the dungeon from the nearest attuned lifestone, find his body
simulacra and continue on. With persistence he would eventually find his way to the prize and bring it back to his current employer who would generally pay him enough to provide a living until the next job came through.

Stray looked at the stranger and lowered his axe. "Wadda'ya want?" he rumbled.

The man now a bit more at ease seeing Stray move into a more relaxed posture, produced a scroll and handed it over. "My name is Calden Faldor, and I have been sent by the Arcanum to give this to you. They have asked that I not leave you until you procure an answer to their request.", the man said in an even tone.

Stray took the scroll and flung it back at Calden who didn't have the reflexes to keep it from bouncing off his head and landing on the ground. "Y'know," said Stray, "you fools have been coming to me for three years and ya still can't remember that I can't read much! Boils and Banderlings! Tell me what it says-and there had better be a map and some drawings!"

Calden regretted now that he had agreed to help the Arcanum to deliver this message. The little he had heard about Stray all seemed to be true. Picking up the scroll, Calden removed the colorful twine that secured it. Clearing his throat, he began to recite the flowing words, wondering all the while whether Stray would understand the colorful language-or even care.

"Hail and felicitations to you, our dear Dayen! We, of the Arcanum do salute you and pray that you are most well!

Knowing that you have returned from your expedition to Mt. Lethe, we felt it an opportune time to ask but for one small favor- which if performed- will of course produce the required boon, as is your fee.

Recently, we have come upon information pertaining to an artifact as defined by the picture included with this message. As to its' worth, we feel it has little of consequence to any but ourselves. Yet we desire not to pass up any opportunity to learn more of this glorious land in which we live or the lore thereof.

Included with this scroll is a map to where we believe the item might be located, as well as a pictorial description of the item itself as previously stated.

If you are willing to do this small task for us, we shall not only be grateful, but will hold you in the highest esteem!

We would be most pleased to hear your answer post-haste from the worthy gentleman delivering this message. And in advance, if you decide to aid us, we thank you for your support in this matter and wish you God-speed in your adventures.

With all affinity,

Terias Mafestia

Agent of the Arcanum - Cragstone

Calden peered over the top of the scroll to see Strays response only to have his eyes met with a bored blank stare. He dreaded the thought that he would have to translate the message into something that the bear of a man could understand; and was just about to do so when Stray held out his hand.

"Give." Was Strays only remark.

Calden turned over the scroll and stood uncomfortably as Stray took the time to pour over the map and the pictures at the bottom of the scroll. Ripping the scroll in twain, Stray tucked the written half into the crook of Caldens arm; turned around and walked back into his house.

As the door closed, leaving Calden to wonder if Stray had made his decision clear and he had just missed it, he heard a muffled voice from within the structure in a somewhat tired voice. "Tell them I'll do it-and go away."