Kelly felt the amulet lead her down the main road of the town, to the north; the magik of the amulet leading but also imparting a sense of urgency, a visceral feeling of dread. Dread of not arriving in time to aid Zeb, dread of getting there soon enough and not being able to help. How much was induced by the amulet and how much of the mounting anxiety was actually the way Kelly felt? The streets held no answer. Shadows blanketed the deserted streets as the crescent moon played hide and seek amid a bank of constantly moving clouds The urgings spurred her onward in a straight line towards the edge of the town. As Kelly came to the edge of town, the number of structures dwindled while a mist slowly rose from the ground.
The trail took Kelly straight out of town of Safeholt toward the wild wastes of GreyMoor. The buildings were left behind as Kelly entered a seemingly spectral landscape where errie twisted trees loomed out of the darkness like stark gaunt sentinels. The mist was thicker here and swirled about Kelly’s knees as she strode into the darkness. She quickly lost her bearings and without the amulet to guide her she would have not known where to go.
She sensed Zeb before she saw him; standing in the mists ahead in a grove of twisted, stunted trees. The gnarled branches grabbed and snatched at her as she drew closer to him. He had something in his left hand. Fresh blood dripped from the grisly trophy. In his other hand he held his long knife dripping with gore. The clouds shifted and the mists parted slightly. The body of Tallken’s minion lay at Zeb’s feet minus its head.
Beyond Zeb, when the mist parted, Kelly saw three figures, about twice the size of normal men. One bore Scimitar etched with Magikal runes, another carried two wicked hooks, the third swung a large chain thru the mist; THE SEEKERS HAD RETURNED!
The one with the Scimitar was speaking, his voice a baritone rumble meshed with the cacophony of clanging bells. “Your highness, you know we never have meant you any harm. We merely seek to protect you from those that would use you for their own ends. You will be safe at home.�
“You’ll not have me, alive or dead.� Zeb spat, anger contorting his features. “And tell my father I’m coming back to take his head!� The seekers were silent at Zeb’s fury, as if expecting the heavens to part and lightning to strike. Zeb stared at them defiantly. The attack came without warning. Chain links as big around as a man’s leg whistled through the air toward Zeb. Catlike, he hurled himself backward. Too slow. The chain caught him in the leg and knocked him end over end. He landed hard about thirty feet away. The Seeker with the hooks leapt skyward. Zeb’s eyes bulged in alarm and he rolled sideways as fast as he could. Hooks landed hard where Zeb had just been. Zeb scrambled to his feet and lunged off balance, scampering behind a tree. Hooks swung hard, hitting the tree. Chain followed up lashing out with a mighty swing. The tree snapped in half with an angry splintering rending that echoed thru the mist. Zeb ran away from the clearing, with the Seekers on his heels…