With the thousands of folk that filled the marketplace for festival, who would have noticed one tall hooded solitary being? I suppose a few of them now wished they had. A deep hood hid the face, but the cool evening breeze helped a few strands of luxurious red hair escape. When the hair fell back straight against the cloak it almost reminded you of the coat of a fine beast. The figure was tall and thin. It appeared to be quite fit, but it was difficult to tell too much for the cloak dragged the ground and allowed no view of who or what was within. When she moved it was sleek and silent.
She? It had to be a she. No man could move like that. And that hair either belonged to some woman who spent all her time caring for it or it belonged to something most of these folk had never seen before. She moved again, slow and deliberately. Her stare seemed fixed to some item or person in the crowd. Had there not been a crowd and the noise that went with it, a passerby might have heard the low rumble that purred from within the cloak. But then, if there hadn't been so great a crowd, she probably wouldn't have been there at all.
Who or what was she watching? What was there so interesting as to capture such exclusive attention? In front of her what was there; fairy folk, no, a couple of gnomes standing on crates to see over the counter of a shop, no. Dwarves, halflings, men, wait. There it is. A rather rotund little man who obviously sees himself as more important than the crowd does. Nice clothes, gold cane, rings of various metals and a stone...well, really I should say jewel, an emerald of sizable proportion with a dance of illusive blue deep within it. Quite a prize.
I wonder if he felt important because he had the stone, or did he have the stone because he was important? It didn't matter. He wouldn't have it long. He stood near a booth of fine silks when a blast of light arose above the nearby castle. He turned to look. With most eyes on the light she supposed to be fireworks above the castle, no one saw the tall hooded being walk silently and happily away.
"I would like a rrroom." A gloved hand dropped coins onto the counter.
"What being are ye?" asked the innkeeper as he swept up the coins. Another couple of coins rung against the counter.
"Does it matterrr?"
He looked to see past the hood for a hint of the face beneath. The figure stepped back a bit. It was late and he still had rooms not rented. This stranger had money and didn't mind spending it.
"No, no, of course not. I just like to keep folks happy." He picked up the remaining coins and added, “Anything you break you pay for." The hood dipped in agreement.
"Maggen," called the innkeeper. "Bring me a plate of that sup and a pint of ale. This customer would like a little privacy."
They walked to her room; she went in and latched the door. Finally alone, she tossed the cloak and gloves aside and purred a long stretch. Who here would guess that the human king of Beyonisle had her for a mate. By birth, the kingdom was hers all along. Her own people knew she was queen. But they thought their beloved queen was ill from an evil wizard's curse. They didn't know what she was.
When Sheerone had been a girl, she and her brother Dramone had been inseparable. He was the prince, but because she was older, she stood next in line for the throne. Father had been a good and righteous man. In his youth, he had asked the elders to allow someone else to rule in his stead so that he might serve the Gods as a paladin. But the Gods themselves said he alone was anointed to be king. The elders assured him that if the Gods wished his service, he would have the chance to serve. It wouldn't matter what his profession was. So king he became.
He did serve well as king. He brought justice and honor to all his land, and worked with his own two hands to help sustain the kingdom. Those of all lands who loved the right, loved him. One young princess loved him most and became his queen. The birth of the twins was very difficult for her and she was never quite the same after that. I think she knew she was not long for this world. Because as soon as Sheerone could walk, the queen was teaching her all the graceful and lovely things a daughter learns at her mother's side.
By her teenage years, the young princess had gained the favor of every eligible bachelor in the north countries of the land east. She was the prize. But she would not be easy to win. Father had been warned in a dream that Princess Sheerone would need a husband that didn't love her face or her title, but loved her and Beyonisle more than life itself. Such a young man came to the notice of the king one afternoon.
Several young men and women were gathered at the palace for the twins' birthday. They were all royals. Some were from neighboring kingdoms. But most were the children of relatives of the king or late queen. A falcon got loose from its handler and Sheerone's face was caught by a talon as the bird lunged for a brightly colored ribbon in her hair. Daralar, a very distant cousin, pulled an arrow and bow from a palace guard and killed the bird in one expert shot.
The girls all whispered about her being scarred for life, and other young men backed away as if Sheerone was no longer acceptable as their hostess much less their companion. Only Dramone and Daralar rushed to the side of the injured princess. They carried her to her chambers and the other youth were dismissed. Even after she was seen to by the physicians, the princess wished not to show her face again to anyone. Daralar respected her wishes. But every day, flowers and gifts and notes arrived at the castle for the young princess.
They were always from Daralar and they always bore the same message;
Your beauty is not what makes you beautiful to me.
I love the you inside. If ever you desire my service,
I am yours to command. Daralar
In a few weeks, the wound healed. A thin line scar was still visible but a change in the way she combed her hair covered it and Sheerone felt able to be seen again. At a ball celebrating her recovery, all of those who scorned her injury were there. Since her beauty was now restored, they flocked to her side and again wished to be seen with the 'prize of the isle'. Instead of crowding in to be seen, Daralar sent a note to Sheerone.
"I am here if you wish anything of me. My heart leaps within my breast to see you in such good spirits. Only the return of your love could bring me more joy than seeing you here beloved as you should have always been."
While the youth were socializing, the king was in council. An evil wizard had bonded with the Shadowlords and conspired to rule the land east. A strategy was being worked out to deal with this threat when the frivolity of the night was broken by a crash of lightning and the entrance of Frowcogh the wizard himself.
"What fool thinks himself powerful enough to keep me from my designs?" cried out the enraged wizard, "Show yourself, King who will not be king for long."
Sheerone's father and counselors came from the chamber where they had been and the king was ready. He shot an arrow at the wizard and struck the very amulet he intended to use in his rise to power shattering it. Dramone and Sheerone both grabbed bows from nearby guards and also fired sure and straight. The wizard had planned on an attack from the king or his bodyguard. But when the twins thought and acted as one, he was dealt a blow he wasn't prepared for. His injuries were severe. Realizing that his strength was fading fast, he chose to cast the spells that would hurt his enemies the most of all.
"You three. You damnable three. Nothing I have done has stopped you yet. I took the queen and still you go on. I cut away the beauty of the 'prize of the isle' and still you go on. You're always strong, always together. Well, you won't work together again."
For fear of a magical explosion, youth and the king’s council started running from the castle. They didn't want to be caught in whatever trouble the royal family had gotten themselves into. In only a few moments, the wizard stood alone in the castle's great hall with only the king, Dramone, Sheerone, and Daralar present to hear the curse he would cast on these who loved each other all so well and truly.
"Daralar," said the king, "you are not required to stay. You have served us well but we alone must face what happens now."
Daralar took his place next to Sheerone. "My liege, my heart lies captured in the soul of your daughter. No matter what this man does to me, I will not leave her."
"You will not leave her? You will leave her. Your countrymen will wish to kill her before the night is long out. And you, young prince will not be welcome or even able to remain at the fair princess' side either."
That abomination of living will turned to the king. "You say you will not let evil rule as long as you live, so DIE!" He shot a bolt of putrid green lightning forth from his hand and the king fell lifeless to the floor.
"No!" screamed Sheerone.
"You'll not kill her too," decreed Daralar as he drew a sword and step in front of his love.
But the wizard did not turn to Sheerone. Next the wizard turned to the young prince, “You stand so brave, so strong, so bold. Seek ye a new home in the mountains cold. But never will her dreams be yours to share. I curse you this day to be a werebear. Powers of hell, turn flesh to fur. But first let him see what I do to her"
"I'll not let you harm her, I say." shouted Daralar.
"So you love her, do you? Do you dream of the day she reigns by your side?" The evil creature's strength was fading but he hated this flower of womanhood so much that he would not die until he had completed his revenge. "Well don't worry, I won't send her away. Listen young lover. She can stay with you."
The wizard began his final curse. "The warmth of this land should do her well; away from her brother will be her own hell. Flesh to fur and nail to claw, Lycanthrope's the curse I call. A weretigress shall your love become. With my last breath, so shall it be done."
The wizard fell dead and his remains faded to a vile smelling dust that blew out the door at the first glimpse of a breeze. The king lay dead. Dramone sat watching in horror as his fair sister changed before his eyes. Then he too suffered and writhed from the pain of his change.
"Sheerone, I cannot stay here." he said in a voice now low and growling. "The heat will kill me if the people don't."
"I will protect her," said Daralar. "The people will be told she is ill from the wizard's curse. They'll never know what truly befell her."
"But who will rule with Father gone?" asked Dramone.
"I would that my love and I rrrule as one." Whispered the great cat. She looked up at the one who had pledged to her his all. "You once said you would come to my aid. Will you now prrretend to still carrre forrr me that my kingdom be not lost?"
Daralar dropped to his knees that he might look at her face to face. "I will serve you till the day that I die. But in it will be no pretending. If you would have me, we will be wed this night. Your beauty is not what is beautiful to me."
The memory of her wedding night flashed across her mind and she stretched again. She was tired. Anything else she had to do would wait until morning. She mused over her new acquisition and watched it sparkle. There was no moon that night, what light danced across it? She looked to the window. Perhaps the stone's former owner had been right. Were there fireworks? She looked and there where the castle stood shone the beginnings of a crystal sphere. It flowed down from above the castle like water over a smooth stone. As the sphere reached the ground, everything started to tremble. In the street, every eye was fixed on the castle and every ear was filled with the sound of evil. It was a sound Sheerone had not heard since the shadowars.
The sphere completed its formation and lifted out of the ground taking the castle and her love with it. The newly formed globe rose into the dark night air and began to shrink. As it passed away to the south and west, the light from the globe blinked out and could no more be seen by the crowd.
Powerful magic had caused this. There was no single wizard Sheerone knew of who possessed such power. This had to be the work of many or of a being that somehow held the thoughts and powers of many. Either way these folk were in trouble, big trouble.
They would put out a call for help. This wasn't something an army of mindless soldiers could handle. They would need fighters, trackers, wizards and more. They would need a priest and healer. They would need every skill of man and beast. She wondered if any paladin were about. The more help from the Gods, the better. No matter how tired she was, this would not wait until morning. She tucked the jewel in a waist pouch and donned the cloak and gloves. She grabbed the slab of meat from the plate near the door and slipped out the window. There wasn't time to deal with the delays downstairs of getting through the crowd. These folk may not be her kin but they would need her help. Perhaps their fear of whatever took their kings would be greater than their fear of a weretigress in their midst. For their sakes, she hoped so.
It's no wonder what she traveled unnoticed before. She moved as silently as a spring breeze through fairy frost. As she sprang from roof to roof, the cat in her came alive. She reached the great hall almost before the chancellor did. He had been checking on last minute details in the hall and had just left for the castle when catastrophe had struck. He rang the alarm bell and headed back into the hall. She dropped to the step behind him and startled, he turned toward her. They faced each other and their eyes met. She studied his face as he ran the gambit of reactions.
"We need all the help we can get," he bade her follow him, "Keep that hood up. We don't need any more panic than we already have." Once inside, he stopped, and turned to look at her, "You were here with one of the kings weren't you?" She nodded. "I suppose it was for your protection that he kept you a secret." She nodded again.
"By the time this is over, I have a feeling we'll be glad he was afraid of your being found out." They started to walk again and he continued, "If you don't mind, I'd like you to stay close to me. You probably don't need much protection, but if any trouble does break out, I want you where I can find you and where my men can protect your privacy."
A smile of relief crossed Sheerone's face and she decided she liked this round little man. She didn't like him enough to return his emerald. But, she suspected he was much better at running this kingdom than he was at protecting his treasure. She wondered if he knew she had the emerald that had once been his. Taking the jewel wasn't personal. It wasn't even greed. Ever since her change, gems of almost any kind have been something she simply could not resist. She didn't know if it happened to all lycanthropes or if Frowcogh thought it would make her suffer more. But it was definitely part of her curse. She'd pay for the jewel either way. She always did in a way that no one knew she had taken it.
Others started to enter the hall and she pulled the hood deep over her face. Hastily, she introduced herself and as she watched the reaction of her host, she knew she had at least one ally in the chancellor and that meant she would get to listen in on what rescue plans would be. If the troop selected as champions seemed like the kind she could trust, then she herself could volunteer to go along. Traveling with them would be safer than going alone. There was a slim chance some of her own people might offer to help. But knowing how bravely they faced a wizard on their own land didn't leave all that much hope of volunteers in this land.
She watched the hall fill with all manner of folk such as men, elves, halfelves and dwarves. Other creatures came in like gnomes, halflings and the tiniest of fairy folk. Most of them moved to the front that they might see, hear, and be heard. A few giants and men of great size moved to the back and sides. One had a tiny elf sitting atop his shoulder and the two were still finishing a cindermellon they had shared. A tiny priestess and a tall young paladin walked in the room. The crowd parted that they might make their way to the stand.
"Good," thought Sheerone, "the Gods arrre with us."
The chancellor started to speak and the crowd hushed. "If you are here to learn what happened or to offer help, sit down and get as comfortable as you can because we may be here for quite a while. If you came in here because everyone else did or because you're expecting a show, you can save yourself a wait and just leave now. The folks who remain may be called to defend their land or their king. If you can't or won't do that, you really need to leave."
He paused and half a dozen drunk halfelves and a few halflings who had been too often at the barrel were helped back outside.
"All right folks, if you could try to move on in fairly snug, I imagine more will be joining us soon enough. We need to keep that door clear in case some news breaks and a runner needs in."
Just as he gathered his thoughts and tried to decide how to begin, one great warrior and wizard walked in. Chancellor Wednig was never so glad to see an old friend walk through a door before. She made her way through a portion of the crowd and as soon as it was visible who was now in their midst, every elf and halfelf in the hall bowed or went down to one knee.
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