Wilma smiled. “It looks like the couple we barged in on finally convinced some night watchmen to check out their story.”

  Simon added. “I’m sure the shrieking and splashing may have had something to do with it, too.”

  “Let’s get going. We can explain our part in this later. Otherwise, we could be stuck here for hours explaining events to the watchmen,” I urged.

  “Hold a moment,” Steven said as he walked deeper into the pond.

  “What are you doing?” Wilma asked in a slightly frightened voice. We were all worried about the same thing: whether that was the only eel in the pond.

  “Just checking to see if there are others.” He answered.

  “Well, that’s how to find out,” Biff commented sarcastically.

  Steven cast a spell and looked around the pond slowly. After maybe thirty seconds, he turned and sloshed his way back out of the water toward us.

  We didn’t need any more urging to move quickly as the group returned toward the woods at a jog.

  “Nothing else in there is larger than a dozen or so large carp,” Steven explained as we entered the wooded path.

  “Or baby eels,” Bido murmured, just loud enough for us all to hear him.

  Wilma shuddered. “Let’s hope not.” She asked Steven, “Can you tell what they were?”

  “No. It was a detect life spell. At this level, all it does is show me living things, their approximate size, and location. I don’t know what they are.”

  I sensed a presence through my staff. A weak voice said, “The boon I wanted to ask is complete. Thank you, child. Its poison was killing my roots and eating my spirit.”

  My eyes turned to the dryad’s tree, where I saw the fleeting wave of her hand toward me. I felt a rush of warmth as she disappeared into the tree.

  All was well for her, or it would be in time.

  As we marched on, the conversation about more eels took on a life of its own now that the danger had passed. But I knew it was over, and the monstrous eel was alone.

  The AL whispered into my ear. Enchanter Gwydion earns a spell or skill point to be placed as desired for completing the Wet Dryad quest. Gwydion Istari earns the Novice Quester achievement for solving his first quest. Gwydion Istari earns one attribute point for the Novice Quester Achievement. Spell and skill points must be reclaimed at a guild hall or sanctuary. Additions and notes have been added to your Book of Quests that remain unread.

  I thought my answer to the AL. Please place the ability point into life.

  I had solved a quest before this pond adventure, but it was during orientation, which must not have counted. The extra bonus for the achievement was perfectly timed. Adding to my life would increase my health points. I saw how quickly those could disappear when faced with a significant monster.

  We departed the park woods, turned back onto St. Michael’s Way, and headed east. We planned to take this central road all the way to the eastern city gate, but would stop briefly at the cathedral first so Steven could get some new armor and a new mace.

  We dripped the entire march along the street—at least, all of us except Bido. There were not many people about, but what few there were gave us a wide variety of interesting glances.

  We accompanied Steven up to the side doors of the cathedral. He bumped into Brother Lee, a retired warrior who changed his warrior career and dedicated his life as a cleric. Brother Lee taught all the advanced weapons classes for the holy orders, and he insisted we tell him a little about the combat at the pond. In return for the story, he fed us bread and cheese, which, even after a large dinner, we discovered that we were hungry again. Brother Lee also cast a heat spell that dried all our clothing. He sniffed us and said we were dry but still smelled of stinky eel.

  He was right, but at least we were dry once more.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Brother Lee got a set of chainmail armor for Steven and another mace, which he emphasized was only a loaner. He also said that he would go to the pond and explain what had happened and that we would all be available for additional details once guild business was attended to. The cleric winked at me and whistled as he strolled away down a path that would eventually take him to St. Michael’s Way and the park. He was buying us time to leave the city.

  Once again, we walked down St. Michael’s Way together and made our way out of East Gate. The gate was well guarded, but little traffic came at this time of night. We must have had a disheveled and intense look about us, which the night watch on duty decided to let pass since we were leaving the city and would no longer be their trouble. The fact that several mage robes could be seen in our group also probably helped.

  When we made plans for “a little adventure” a few days earlier, I had asked all my friends to come to our dinner “armed for bear” so we could walk directly to the cove. Apparently, we were “armed for eel,” which we could joke about now that it was over.

  “Hey there! Where are you lads and lassies off to on this fine evening?” The voice had an odd but familiar accent and came from the caravan approaching Keelwell as we exited the gates.

  “Over here.” It came again as we looked around, not spotting an obvious speaker.

  I looked up in the seats of the horse-drawn wagons and around the area, but I did not see who was talking to us.

  There was a deep sigh. “Down here, if you don’t mind.” It said again, with a bit of rising frustration in his voice.

  Between the wheels of the passing wagon, I made out the walking figure of a short, broad man with a braided black beard. As the wagon passed, he just changed the angle of his walking to cross over to me. I saw that he had a golden cognito just like my own. He was dressed in dark-studded leather with several half-inch spikes across his chest and back armor. The black leather armor was artistically covered in Dwarven copper. The Dwarven copper motif of his armor was reflected in the rest of his clothes, ax, and shield. He had high (for a dwarf), black, rugged leather boots with soft soles and Dwarven copper clasps up each side. He wore a belt buckle and a hook for his magical ax, which was made of the same magical Dwarven material. What little of his shirt could be seen under his armor had the look of fine, black silk with woven Dwarven copper threads. His pants were also black and had at least a dozen small pockets across his legs and around his body. Each pocket had a snap clasp or, oddly enough, a zipper or two. All the metal looked handmade and of fine craftsmanship, including fine Dwarven copper. Add to that a facial tattoo, a single black two-inch fang earring hanging down from his left ear, and braided Dwarven copper cords used to tie his long hair and yet longer beard, and the dwarf gave the impression of something between a new-century punk rocker and classic gothic villain.

  “The name’s Quartz. And unless I am mistaken, you seem to be off to cause or stop some mischief. I’ll join you!”

  I pursed my lips. “I am Gwydion Istari, mage enchanter, and actually, this is a personal quest of mine that we are on.”

  He mouthed, counting the seven of us slowly. “Personal quest, eh?” He said with some sarcasm.

  “Well. Yes. Sort of.” I replied, taken aback by his bluntness.

  “Eight is a lucky dwarf number, and I’d be doing you a disservice to ignore my obvious contributions. I am at your service.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I grinned. He was annoying but had a kind of charm. And since he was also a golden cognito and here early for some reason, I’d be a fool to ignore his help. So I replied. “Well, since you offer your services so freely, how can I deny you? The free service of a dwarf is a rare thing indeed.” I knew Dwarvish and its culture and conservative commerce practices growing up, as I had been under the watchful tutelage of my jewelry master, Sundance.

  “Now, wait a minute, laddie.” Quartz began, raising his hands.

  I spit in my hand and held it out to him. Locking my eyes on his.

  He stared intensely at me momentarily, then laughed, spat in his hand, and we shook. “I opened my mouth and stuck a rock in it. I’ll tag along and help.” He looked up at me out of the corner of his eyes. “But I wouldn’t say no to some reward before the deal is done.”

  I laughed. “You may have an equal share of anything we receive that I have not already accounted for on this quest.”

  “Good enough!” He exclaimed. Taking whatever he could get, since moments before, it had been nothing.

  We eight turned south and walked past some of the large warehouse buildings used to store wares on their way in or out of the city.

  “Where are we heading?” He asked with a cheerful lilt to his voice.

  “Into and under Shark Bay at Oyster Cove,” I replied.

  The color drained from his face. “Underwater?” He said.

  I kept walking. “Yes, indeed. The quest you agreed to join and serve will be underwater for its first part.”

  He actually gulped. “Umm, lad. I mean, mage enchanter Gwydion what'sit. Dwarves don’t do water.”

  I kept walking, ignoring him. I knew that dwarves ranged from detesting water to being terrified by it. Sundance was as fastidious a dwarf as anyone was likely to encounter, and he bathed only once a week. And he became more and more grumpy as his bath day approached. He also would wear more and more cologne as that day drew near, which got a bit much, truthfully.

  We walked on in silence. Quartz kept up, but I could tell he was struggling to come up with something that got him out of going into the water.

  He snapped his fingers. “Dwarves can’t swim!” He exclaimed.

  “We’ll be walking along the bottom. No swimming needed.” I answered.

  We were getting closer to the docks.

  “Dwarves can’t breathe underwater!” He nearly cheered.

  “Humans, either. Good thing we have water-breathing spells.” I replied, not slowing my pace. He had forced his way into the group, and as annoyed as I was initially, I was not about to let him out of it. He looked like a warrior, and while I did not expect any real trouble, having him along was a real insurance policy. A golden cognito warrior would likely be more powerful than either Simon or Biff. But even if not, another warrior couldn’t hurt. Especially one that came along cheap.

  He started to say something a couple of times, mumbled a Dwarven curse, which I understood, slouched his shoulders, and followed in silence.

  We reached the end of Barrowmound Way, which terminated at a series of short docks.

  The city docks, or Portus as it was sometimes formally known, stretched around in a curve with a wide range of wooden docks and stone quays. It was bordered by the city walls that extended into the bay another twenty yards on either end for protection, but there were also docks ahead of us, just outside the city’s walls.

  We could take Barrowmound Way to the water, but would either need to walk around the marshy border of the cove until we neared the oyster beds or rent a couple of rowboats to take us out there.

  It was decision time.