This story started out as part experiment in writing in the first person and part just to see how it would develop.  I suppose I should have written a proper outline before starting this story, but like I said, it's an experiment. Back when I was younger, Role Playing Games or RPGs always started out with your freshly created character in some town somewhere, often with little or no funds and little or no armor and maybe only your fists for weapons.  If you were lucky, you had a club.  There was no pseudo-history for the characters back then like many of today's games are often set to generate after answering a few questions.  So I got to thinking, what if I start a story with a character who just wakes up in an alley somewhere, he doesn't know how he got there and he can't remember much of anything? So, this story started crawling out of my head.  Arif is a name I used for an RPG character I once played.  I don't remember the name of the game, it was quite a while ago now. I do know some history for this version of the character, but I'm not just going to tell you, the reader, any of that. You will have to read this tale to find out as Arif does. (Well, it's either that, or ask someone who's read the story to tell you.) At the moment, I still don't have a title for this story. I was thinking of "The Quest of Memory" or "Arif's Quest" or "Memory Quest". But, I can't decide just yet. This is a first draft of the first chapter. Do let me know what you think, but be polite. You can leave any feedback at my forum. If you want, you can even register. It's free, after all. (You can also leave a title suggestion or two.) Okay, I've got at least a working title for this story. Search the Forgotten - = - = - Search the Forgotten - Chapter One      My name is Arif, uhm . . . Arif something and I'm about 21 years old.  When I 'woke up' in a back alley, that was just about all I could remember about myself.  Although my age is only approximate.  Everything seems so foggy.  I can't seem to remember my last name, though I'm sure I have one.  Now, I say 'woke up' because I am not sure just how else to put it.  I suppose I could say that that moment is when I became aware, but that would not be entirely accurate either.  Suffice it to say that when I found myself in that alley, I could not remember having entered it.  I could not even remember having entered the town for that matter. But, there I was, in a back alley somewhere about the middle of the east side of Ylanshia.  I had not known the name of the town then.  That was something I discovered later.      I was also stiff.  I must have lain here for some time.  I felt the back of my head and it felt fine.  Well, at least I hadn't received a blow on the head.  But why couldn't I remember much past my . . . awakening?      I knew language, but I could not remember having learned to speak or write it.  In fact, after thinking about it for a little while, I apparently knew several languages, though I could speak more than I could write. And I did believe that I could write.      I had no sword or dagger at my belt, yet I had a couple of money pouches.  I had no armor, yet I had simple leather clothing.  I checked the two money pouches I had on my belt and found that I had six hundred and eighty two silvers all total.  So, I was not a victim of robbery, else why would I have so much money on my person?      Unless I had owned a sword of such value that my money became irrelevant.  No, that couldn't be it. Could any sword be worth so much?  Or did I have some golds in there too?  Did a thief specialize in just stealing golds?  I didn't think so.      Well, fancies aside, somehow, not having a weapon at my side made me feel uncomfortable.  Since I had naught to do anyway, I stood up, brushed as much of the alley's filth off of me as I could, then set about exploring the town. - = - = -      The town itself was of good size and was encircled by a stone wall.  The wall had gates through it at mostly regular intervals, from what I saw of it anyway.  Most of the buildings were two or three stories in height and many of them had stone or brick walls.  Most of them were of wood however and whoever sold the town white paint probably made a fortune, considering that seemed to be the town's primary color for their buildings.      The people made up for their buildings' lack of colorful decoration only slightly.  Many women wore colored scarves and neck decorations, skirts and blouses.  The men wore shirts that weren't quite as colorful as their womenfolk's clothing but then that didn't seem unusual to me.      As I walked about the town, my muddled brain seemed to be trying to tell me that there was something unusual.  But I couldn't seem to put my finger on it.      I wandered into the town's marketplace and there were many shops, taverns, saloons and inns all about. I browsed some of the shops, looking in the windows for the most part.  At one point, I caught my reflection in a window.  I brushed my hand through my sandy brown hair to straighten it a bit.  I don't know if it was a reflection or not, but I think my eyes are an olive color.      Hm.  Not bad looking, I thought to myself.  I rubbed my chin when I noticed the little bit of beard shadow.  I must've shaved it yesterday.  My suddenly throbbing head distracted me.  I couldn't remember having done so.  I only presumed that I'd shaved.  I still couldn't remember anything beyond waking up in that alley.      The first shop I actually entered during my explorations was a weapons shop.  It was a small shop and they didn't have a wide selection to choose from.  However, I did find a fairly decent broadsword that fit my hand and was balanced closely enough to my tastes that I felt comfortable with it.      "A warrior needs a good weapon," the proprietor said to me.       Somehow, that phrase sounded familiar.  My head ached momentarily.  "I'm not a . . . ." My head throbbed and I rubbed one of my temples with the fingers of my free hand.      "Are you well?" the proprietor asked.      "Just a headache," I commented in what I hoped was a relatively nonchalant tone.  I smiled at him and said, "I'll take it."      It was the best weapon he had.  I purchased it--but, five hundred silvers!--and was outside of the shop when I realized that I had no sheath in which to keep my weapon.  I had not seen any in the shop either.  But, after looking about me, I noticed that some few other persons also carried their swords in hand, and though I still felt somewhat self-conscious about carrying an unsheathed weapon about town, I proceeded west down the street.      Only two people seemed to notice that I was carrying an unsheathed sword.  The first was one of the city guards who indicated that I should be holding my sword in my left hand.  I switched hands and the guard gave a quick nod and almost smiled.  I didn't see what difference it made.  The sword felt as comfortable in that hand as the other.  Then I noticed that the other people who carried unsheathed swords did so in their left hands.  A few people carried staffs and one person actually carried a mace of all things!      The guard told me that this was a custom of Ylanshia.  This seemed like a peculiar custom to me.  He asked if I'd been in town long and since I couldn't remember much beyond waking up here this morning, I told him that I'd only recently arrived.  Don't ask me why, but somehow it didn't seem prudent to let him know of my memory difficulties.      He bid me a good day and continued on his rounds.      The second person to stare at my carrying an unsheathed sword was a very young lad who was accompanied by what I presume was his mother.  But, his staring was one of longing, I think.  He had a small wooden toy sword at his belt and his right hand kept going toward it's simply carved hilt.      I had wandered some distance and around a few corners and eventually found myself near a shop that was selling a number of assorted sundries.  I went in and browsed some of the tables and shelves when I noticed some lengths of leather.  When I got closer to them, I realized they were sword sheaths of varying lengths. Some were soft and flexible and others were quite stiff and seemed very sturdy.      I quickly found one of the stiff, sturdy ones to fit my sword and immediately fastened it to my belt.  I shoved my sword into it with such relief that the propietor of the shop nearly broke out laughing.      I explained to him how I'd felt the idiot for carrying the sword as I had been and we both did chuckle over the matter.  I purchased a couple more items from him, including a better made leather jerkin than what I had on, a dagger and sheath and a small backpack in which to carry my purchases and then left.      I did not go far when I found an armor shop and went inside.  I looked at some chain mail and I would have purchased a suit of it if my funds were more substantial than they were.  But, alas, my funds were not sufficient.  The least expensive full suit of chain mail cost a thousand golds!  I used my dwindling funds to purchase some leather greaves for my legs and some leather arm bands that could almost be considered vambraces, though they were a bit short for that.  Still, the greaves and arm bands did have some metal studs so they should provide more protection than my bare skin or simple clothing.      It was now well after the thirteenth hour and I was feeling rather hungry.  I remembered passing several saloons earlier in the day and I retraced my steps to the nearest one.  The aromas that issued from the restaurant made my mouth water and then I realized that I had not eaten all day.  I went inside and took a seat at a small table and did not have to wait too long before a woman came over to take my order.  Soon, I had a hot stew, a freshly baked bread roll and a cool mug of watered ale before me.      I say the ale was watered, but do not blame the establishment.  The water was added at my request.  I would have preferred just the water, but the serving woman explained that the proprietor made the ale himself and tends to ask his customers for their opinion.  I promised the woman that if she filled the mug only halfway with ale and then filled it the rest of the way with water, I would give a very good review of the drink to her employer if he should ask.      He never did come over to my table to ask me what I thought, but I did see a portly gentleman ask questions of a few other patrons and I assumed that the man was the owner of the saloon.      An odd thing happened.  Instead of picking up the table spoon that the serving woman had placed beside my bowl, I reached with my right hand to an expected pouch at my right side that was not there.  I can't explain this as I have no idea why I would do such a thing.  It must have something to do with my memory loss, but I have no idea what it could be.  I gave my head a shake to try to clear the headache that was starting, picked up the table spoon and ate my stew.      After my meal, I continued to sit at the table nursing the last of my watered ale.  I took the time to count my coins again and I did not think I had enough funds to rent a room at an inn for any great length of time. Oh I could stay for some time, but my funds would run out and then where would I be?  Out in an alley with no money?      Too bad the silvers I had found on my person hadn't been golds instead.  Then I'd have a proper suit of armor and I'd probably . . . probably what?      I still had no idea what I was doing in that alley.  Nor did I know what I was doing in this city.  I tried to recall some measure of my past again.  Nothing.  Nothing but a headache.  I tried for something that should be simple, my last name that I knew I had.  Nothing.  My head throbbed its protest.      Sighing, I stood up and left the saloon.  I wandered the city streets, looking for a cheap place to spend the night and hoping some memory would come back to me.  Instead, I heard a commotion down a nearby alley.  It sounded like someone was having one heck of an argument, right up until I heard the clash of steel on steel.  There was a yell as if someone had been hurt and I rushed into the alley.      I saw three men with swords drawn and they were circling what was either a very short man or a young teenaged child that was trying to protect a woman.  The short sword he held was dripping red at the tip.  So, he'd scored a hit on one of the attackers!  A moment later, as I drew my own sword and rushed in, I noticed that the short person was a man.      One of the three men must have noticed me as I approached.  He looked at me and said, "This does not concern you.  Leave now."      "Three men against a man less than half the size of the smallest of them and one woman?" I said.  "Somehow, I just can't stand by and watch a fight so . . . uneven."      "So don't watch," another of the three men said.      "Leave us," said the third.      The little man shouted, "Hah!" as he stabbed with his short sword at the first man and managed to stab him in the thigh.  The man then turned quickly back toward the little man and the woman and swung his sword wildly and the little guy blocked it with his.      I stepped in just as the other two men were beginning to swing their swords and I intercepted them with mine.  They turned toward me and soon I was fighting two men!  Number two and number three.  (Well, I didn't know their names!)  I swung my sword back and forth.  As soon as I countered one sword's thrust or jab I had to counter the other.  When the second guy came at me at one point, I managed to cut his sword hand and he dropped his sword.  I then gave more attention to the third man of the trio.      Though he was a better swordsman than the other guy I fought, he wasn't any where near my apparent skill.  Now, I am not bragging here.  It's just the way it was.  In a few more moments, I had him disarmed and my sword's point at his throat.  I turned slightly to one side so that I could keep an eye on my former opponent and also so that I could see how well the little man was fairing.      The little man was fast, I'll give him that.  He was fighting a man nearly twice his size but the taller man had to aim low with his sword.  The little man would parry twice and thrust, parry thrice and thrust again.  He managed to stab and slash at his opponent's legs and he even managed to slash at his chest once.      It was shortly after the little one delivered the chest wound to his opponent that mister Three decided to make a move toward his fallen sword.  I stopped him by simply moving my sword a little tighter against his neck.  Just enough to prick the skin a bit.  He seemed to realize that I meant business and he held his position.      Then mister First must have decided that it wasn't worth fighting any longer for he turned tail and ran out of the alley.  Mister Second scrambled from his fallen place on the ground, scurried past his sword scooping it up as he went and then he followed mister First.  Mister Third gave me a look that said he'd gotten just as tired of this whole situation too.  I gave him a nod toward the alley entrance and he left.  He didn't even bother picking up his sword.      After all the noise we made, I had thought that at least one of the city guards would have shown up by now.  I turned toward the little man and asked him if he was all right.      "Yes, my large friend," he said.      Large?  I'm not all that large, I'm only about five foot eleven inches tall!  "Large?" I said to him.      "Well, you're bigger than me, aren't you?" he asked.      I chuckled.  "I believe so," I said to him.  I gave my sword a quick look and the only blood that was on it was at the tip.  I wiped it on the bottom of my pants and then resheathed it.  "And you, my lady?" I asked the woman.      "I'm fine," she said.  "Thanks to you two."      The woman had light colored hair but she was wearing some kind of scarf over her head that was tied under her chin.  It was getting toward night now and the light had faded quite a bit in the alley.      The little man wiped his sword on a rag he pulled from his belt and then he sheathed it.  He balled up the rag and placed it in a small pouch I now noticed was attached to his belt.  In fact, he had several pouches attached to his belt.  He approached me and held out his right hand.      "I am Orin Resto," he said.      I clasped his hand and forearm.  "I'm Arif," I said simply.  "And you, my lady?" I asked as I released Orin's hand and turned toward the woman again.      "Verlee Abdo," she said.  She extended her hand and I clasped it.      I turned her hand over and gave the back of it a quick kiss.  Don't ask me why.  It just seemed like a good idea at the time.  It was too dark to see if she blushed, but she withdrew her hand and took a nervous half step backward.      "So, Arif," Orin said.  "Do you have a second name?" He placed himself easily between Verlee and me.      I tried again to recall my last name.  "Wa . . . Wi . . . I can't seem to recall it," I said with a shake of my aching head.      "Have you received a head injury lately?" Orin asked.      "None that I'm aware of," I said.      "Well, if you gentlemen don't mind, I think I'd like an escort home," Verlee said.  She glanced around a little nervously.  Perhaps she thought those ruffians would return.      "Certainly", Orin and I said at once.  We looked at each other and we both smiled.  Orin picked up the sword that mister Third had left on the ground and held it in his left hand as we escorted the lady out of the alley and down the street.      As it happens, Verlee only lived a few blocks away.  Orin and I walked her home and after bidding her a good night at her door and making sure she'd gotten safely inside, Orin turned to me.      "Have you plans for the evening?" he asked.      "The only plans I have, my friend, are to find a cheap place to spend the night," I said.      "Then you have no place at the moment?" Orin asked.      "None," I said.      "Good," Orin said with a smile.      "What?" I asked.  I was rather taken aback at the little one's attitude.  After all, we'd just been in a battle together, we rescued a damsel in distress as it were, and we'd just escorted the woman home.      "That means you can come with me to the Blue Lion," Orin said.  He immediately started walking down the street.      "What's the Blue Lion?" I asked, hurrying to keep up.  For a little guy, he could walk rather quickly it seemed.      "The Blue Lion Inn," Orin said.  "It's an inn and a tavern.  The rooms aren't expensive.  Well, not usually."      "What do you mean that the rooms aren't usually expensive?" I asked.      "Well, it depends on whether or not Drugl takes a liking to you," Orin said.  He stopped and looked up at me with a smile.  "Don't worry, he'll like you."      "I hope so," I said.  "I need either an inexpesive place to stay or a very well paying job."      "So, you're out of work too," Orin said.  "My last job . . . uh, of employment . . . ended last week.  But it payed well and I don't eat much.  I figure I ought to have another week or two before I have to look for another job." After a moment, he asked, "You hungry?"      I had noticed the word dodge.  His last job?  Then the sudden insert of 'employment' into his sentence? Might I have befriended a thief of some kind?  He semed rather the chivalrous sort to be a thief.  Maybe I was just jumping to conclusions.  It's just the way he said "last job".      "Yes," I answered simply.      "You might have noticed, I don't take up much room, either," Orin said.  "Maybe that's why it doesn't cost me much to rent a room there." He chuckled and started walking slower.  Maybe he could only keep up a quick pace for short distances.  No pun intended.      It wasn't long before we were approaching the business quarter.  Orin led me down several alley's that he assured me were short cuts.  I must admit that I was a little wary all of a sudden.  Might my new friend be leading me into a trap?  I hoped not as I really did like the little fellow.      At one point, he bid me wait outside a door off an alley.  I waited and he was back in less than ten minutes.  He smiled at me and said, "Let's go." I noticed that he no longer had that sword he'd picked up earlier.      Well, our trip didn't take very long all told and soon we were standing before the Blue Lion Inn.  We went inside and Orin went straight to a table in a back corner.  He took a seat and he motioned for me to do the same.  I noticed he was sitting with his back to a wall.  From his vantage point he could see much of the room.  Where I sat, I could only see one side of the room.  Maybe he did this intentionally, maybe not. Maybe I was becoming paranoid.      Orin reached into the air, snapped his fingers and soon a serving wench came over to our table.  "Afton, two specials if you please," he said.      "I thought you said you didn't eat much," I said.      "The second one is for you," Orin said.  Before I could say anything, he added, "Don't worry, you'll like it." Then he waved Afton on her way.      "What's the special?" I asked.      "You'll see," Orin said with a smile.  He reached into the air and snapped his fingers again.  Afton came back.  "Alexina, the best grog in the place."      "Alexina?" I said.  "I thought her name was Afton."      "Afton is my sister," Alexina said with a charming smile in my direction.  She turned toward Orin and looked like she was about to deck him.  "You better be able to pay for this, Orin.  You know Drugl will go through the rafters if you can't pay up your bill."      "Not to worry, my pretty," Orin said.  He reached below the table for just a moment and then he tossed a coin into the air.      Alexina grabbed it out of the air with a dexterity that surprised me.  "A gold?" She looked at Orin suspiciously.  "Where did you get a gold?"      "Where I got it is of no consequence," Orin said.  "Just pay off my tab with that and bring me my change." Alexina turned to leave and he added, "And don't forget the grog."      "I'd rather have water," I said before she got too far away.  I hoped she'd heard me because she kept staring at the gold coin that Orin had tossed to her.      Orin leaned closer to me.  "I usually try to pay my tab in smaller coin, but if I hadn't tossed that gold just now, she might have carried on all night," he said confidentially.  He leaned back in his seat as Alexina came back with two mugs and two pitchers on her tray.  That is, I assumed it was Alexina because she was carrying the drinks.      She set a mug before Orin and myself, then she placed a pitcher before each of us.  Mine, thankfully, had only cool water in it.      "Where's my change?" Orin asked.  He held out his hand and demandingly wiggled his fingers a moment.      "Change?" Alexina said.  "You still owe a half gold, fifty silvers and thirty coppers!"      "What?" Orin exclaimed.  "But, I . . . ."      "Don't but me little man," Alexina said.  Then she smiled at him and placed about ten silvers and twenty coppers on the table before him.  "Gotchya," she said as she walked away.      Orin scooped up the coins and his hands disappeared for a moment under the table.  Then his hands were back above the table and he was pouring grog into his mug.  If he wasn't a thief with hands as fast as his seemed to be, then he ought to become one.      Afton came over and placed bowls of stew before us.  She also put down a couple of freshly baked loaves of bread.  Orin grabbed a loaf of bread, broke it in half and set half aside.  He dipped the other half into his stew to soak up gravy.  He took a healthy bite of the bread, placed it to one side of his bowl and then used a dagger he pulled out of no where to stab a piece of meat.      Before Orin could take a bite, Afton leaned over and whispered something into his ear.  Then, she turned and walked away.  Orin took a bite of the meat he had on the end of his dagger, looked at me and smiled.      "A rendezvous perhaps?" I said as I broke my loaf of bread in half.  I set half aside and dipped the other into the gravy in my bowl.      Orin swallowed.  "Perhaps," he said.  He took another bite of his meat and chewed with gusto.      I reached to my side and my hand wavered for moment as if I were reaching for something that wasn't there.  Then I gave my head a shake, pulled my new dagger out and helped myself to a chunk of meat from my bowl.  When I took a bite off the chunk of meat as I'd seen Orin do, I somehow thought of this as not quite right.  I remembered that I had reached to my side earlier today when I had my midday meal.  I could still think of no reason why I would do that.  What could I have been reaching for?      Just then, Afton came over and placed a table spoon near both Orin and myself.  At least, I assumed it was Afton.  "I see neither of you could wait to dig in," she said.  "I expected it of him," she added, indicating Orin with a toss of her head.  She frowned at me.  "But I had thought you might have more class."      I shrugged my shoulders.  Should I explain that I thought this was some local custom?  Should I claim ignorance?  I said the first thing that came to mind.  "I was hungry."      "So I see," she said.  She turned and walked back to where her sister was now standing near the bar.  The two shared a few whispers and they kept looking our way.      "You seem to like what you see," Orin said to me around a mouthful of gravy soaked bread.      I made an effort to swallow the meat in my mouth before answering.  "They are attractive women.  I can't seem to tell them apart." I looked at Orin.  "That was Afton that brought the spoons over, wasn't it?"      "That was Alexina," Orin said.  He picked up another chunk of meat--which happened to be bite-sized and would have fit on the spoon if he'd used the thing--on his dagger point.  "Afton has a very small mole near the outside corner of her right eyebrow." He took a bite of the meat, chewed it a moment, then said around it, "I think Alexina likes you."      I nearly choked on the meat I had just placed in my mouth using the table spoon that Alexina had just brought over.  "What?" I managed to say with some little coherency.      "Alexina," Orin said.  At least this time he swallowed first.  "I think she likes you.  Maybe you'll have a rendezvous tonight."      I used my dagger to cut a slightly oversized bit of meat in half.  I put a piece in my mouth, then I sopped up some gravy with my bread.  I glanced quickly toward the door near the bar that Alexina and Afton had been going through.  I ate another piece of meat.      Orin chuckled.  "Nervous?"  Then, he swallowed and looked at me with an odd look in his eye.  "You have been with a woman before, haven't you?"      I thought about it for a moment.  I couldn't recall if I had or not.  A headache threatened.  "I must have," I murmured softly.  Evidently, not soft enough.      "You can't even remember that!" Orin exclaimed.  He smiled and his eyes seemed to be scanning the room, but then he looked toward the door and his expression changed.  He got serious.  "Uh oh," he said.  He ducked under the table.      I looked toward the door but by then, whoever had come in must have moved off.  I didn't see anyone that looked threatening at all.  "What's wrong?" I asked.  Then I took a bite of gravy soaked bread and acted as if everything were normal.      "Shh!" came from under the table.      I casually looked around the room and I saw Afton and Alexina glance at a light haired man at the bar. He was talking to the bartender.  The bartender pointed my way and then the blond man glanced toward me.  Or maybe I should say, toward Orin's and my table.      The dark brown leather jerkin and pants he wore had brass studs all over them and the lamp light glinted off them, making them sparkle.  The man turned back toward the bartender and soon he had a drink in his hand.      I took another bite of food and looked off to one side.  But I was able to watch the blond guy through the corner of my eye.  He took a sip from his mug and then worked his way over to our table.  Orin was still hiding.      The blond stranger sat down across from me and pulled Orin's bowl of stew over.  He picked up Orin's unused table spoon and took a bite of meat.  He smiled at me as he chewed.  He picked up the second half of Orin's bread and dunked it into the gravy in the bowl.  He took a bite of the bread, chewed and evidently found it tastey.      "Come on out, Orin," he said between bites of stew.  "Where's your manners?  You should introduce me to your friend."      Slowly, Orin came out from under the table.  He reclaimed his seat and looked at the stranger.  "That's my supper," he said.      "It's very good," the stranger said.  He took another bite of meat and Orin took the bowl back.      Orin looked into the bowl as if something foreign and disgusting had fallen into it.  "I think I've lost my appetite," he muttered.  But he grabbed the bread he'd been eating, dunked it and took a bite.      "You got my money?" the stranger asked.      "What money?" Orin asked.  For someone who claims to have lost his appetite, Orin was still sopping up gravy with the last of his half of the bread and was wolfing it down like there was no tomorrow.      "I heard you came into enough money to pay off your tab and that you had more than enough left over," the stranger said.  He took a sip of his drink, then took a bite of bread.  He waved the partial loaf at the stew bowls.  "You paid for this meal."      "Yeah and I'm all tapped out," Orin said.  "Now go away."      "Oh don't be rude," the stranger said.  He motioned toward me with the last bit of his bread.  "Why don't you introduce us."      Orin looked at me.  "Arif, this is . . . an acquaintance of mine, Skylar Dingledine."      "Just . . . Skylar," Skylar said.  "If you please."      "This is Arif," Orin said, continuing and motioning toward me with a flick of his free hand.      "Actually, Orin and I are friends," Skylar said.  He popped the last bite of bread into his mouth and washed it down with his drink.  He extended his hand and I reached out and we grasped forearms for a moment.  Then I went back to finishing my meal.      "Actually," Orin said.  "We're acquaintances."  He glanced at Skylar.  "Friends don't keep pestering friends for money."      "What pestering?  I haven't asked you once in the past three days!" Skylar said.  "Besides, it was my money.  So where is it"      "And as I said before, 'what money?'" Orin repeated.      "You owe me fifty silvers and twenty coppers," Skylar said.  He drank from his mug.      Orin sighed, reached below the table and brought his hand back out, slapping it on the table.  When he removed his hand, there lay a number of coppers and silvers in a pile.  "Here!" he said.      Skylar picked up each coin, examined it and then set it aside.  He made separate stacks for the silvers and coppers.  When he finished I saw there were ten silvers and twenty coppers.  The same amount Orin had gotten in change just a little while ago.      "Now you only owe me forty silvers," Skylar said.  He scooped up the coins and placed them in a money pouch.  He returned the purse to his belt and drained his mug.  He banged his mug on the table top twice, then he raised it into the air for a moment before returning it to the table.      "Why don't you just help yourself to my grog like you helped yourself to my dinner?" Orin asked, flicking his left hand toward the pitcher of grog that sat nearby.      "That's because I'm not drinking mere grog, my friend," Skylar said.      "Acquaintance," Orin corrected.  "What are you drinking?"      "Wine," Skylar said.  He smiled.  "I'm celebrating."      "What do you have to celebrate?" Orin asked.  Suspiciously it seemed.      A serving wench came over and refilled Skylar's mug from a dark bottle.  I hadn't met her but I had noticed her in passing earlier when I was looking around to see why Orin had gone under the table.  She left and returned the bottle to the bartender.  I ate the last bite of meat from my bowl and used the last of my bread to clean the bowl of gravy.      "I beat Finnas at his own game," Skylar said.  Rather smugly I thought.      "The one where he throws a dagger into the air and tries to catch it by the blade with his thumb and forefinger?" Orin asked.      "No, the other one," Skylar said.  Orin looked puzzled.  "You know.  The one where you throw daggers at a target made of nested circles and try to get a high score by getting the dagger as close to the middle as possible."      "And you beat him at this game?" I asked.  I figured I was done eating so I could join in on the conversation.  This game he described sounded oddly familiar somehow.  But it seemed wrong too, but I couldn't say in what way it was wrong.      Skylar sat back in his chair, said, "Yes" with a rather self-pleased smile on his face, then he took a drink of his wine.      "I don't believe it," Orin said.      "You don't believe that I won?" Skylar said, straightening up in his seat.      "No," Orin said.  "I don't believe you'd celebrate with wine just because you beat Finnas at any of his games."      "Well, if you had a ten gold bet with him and won, you'd drink wine instead of grog too," Skylar said.      "Ten golds!" Orin exclaimed.  "You bet him ten golds!"      "Yeah," Skylar said.  He smiled.      "Where did you get ten golds for your bet?" Orin asked, frowning suspiciously at Skylar.      "I didn't have ten golds," Skylar said.  "That's why I'm celebrating." He laughed and took another drink of his wine.      "Ha!" Orin picked up his mug and clunked it against Skylar's.  "That's a good reason to celebrate, Skye, my friend!  A good reason indeed!"  He gulped a swallow of grog.      "See, Arif?" Skylar said.  "I told you Orin and I were friends."  He took another drink of wine.  It looked to me like he was trying to down as much wine as fast as he possibly could.  I no sooner had that thought than he placed his mug on the table.      "So," Skylar said as he faced me.  "What brings you to Ylanshia?"      I looked into my mug of water and frowned as I tried to 'conjure up' images of my past.  I would have taken any memory at all.  I felt a headache coming on again.  But I still couldn't remember what had happened to me before I woke up this morning.      Orin had evidently been watching me during this whole time.  Probably Skylar did too.      "He's having problems with his memory," Orin said.      "What kind of memory problems?" Skylar asked.      "Recalling them," Orin said.      "Oh?" Skylar said.  "Did you receive a blow to the head?" he asked me.      "I don't believe so," I answered.  "When I awoke, I was in an alley in this city.  I felt my head and could find no bumps or bruises."      "Perhaps you are under a spell or curse," Skylar suggested.      "I don't know about that," I said as my headache faded.  "But then, I don't know what happened to me."      Orin looked from me to Skylar.  "Perhaps that wizard that Jae is apprenticing under can help."      "Perhaps," Skylar said.  "But they're some distance from here.  You know that Arthester Jalivay makes his home in the Ylan Mountains."      "How far away are the Ylan Mountains?" I asked.      "The foot of the mountain range is about ten days journey by horse," Orin said.  "To the north."      "I don't have a horse," I said.  I mentally reviewed my funds.  I only had sixty-one silvers and ninety-nine and one quarter coppers left.  I didn't think that was enough to buy a horse.  I said as much.      "Don't worry," Orin said.  "Skylar has his own horse and he has more than enough money to buy another."      "Why should I buy another horse?" Skylar asked.      "To help our friend, of course," Orin said.  "Wadgene has horses for sale and he'll sell one to us for a fair price."      "But I only have ten golds," Skylar said.      "So a decent horse should only cost what, one or two golds?" Orin asked.      "My horse cost me three golds," Skylar said.  "Besides, this is my money." He looked at me.  "No offense, Arif, but we only just met."      "No offense taken," I told Skylar.  "I have done nothing to earn your trust."      "Well, you certainly earned mine," Orin said with thump of his palm on his chest.      "Why, what happened," Skylar asked Orin.      Orin told him of his encounter in the alley with the three rufians and my coming to help him protect the woman, Verlee Abdo.      "Thanks to Arif, we fought off those hoodlums and protected Verlee's honor," Orin said.  "I am not afraid to admit that I was slightly overmatched.  Once again, Arif, I thank you for your help and for possibly even saving my life."      To me it looked more like I probably saved his life.  But I wasn't about to quibble.  "You're welcome, Orin."  I poured more water from the pitcher that sat nearby into my mug and I took a drink.      "Look, Skye," Orin said.  He leaned forward so that he could place his elbows on the table and so that he could talk in more confidential tones.  "You didn't have ten golds before your bet and now you have them.  They didn't cost you any of your own money.  Surely you could part with two or three."      "But I used my skilled hands and keen eyes to beat Finnas and win the golds," Skylar said.  "Now I have eight golds, thirty silvers and fifty coppers left."  Orin gave him a look that I interpreted as disbelief.  Skylar glanced into his mug then looked at me and then he looked back at Orin.  "I had a few bills of my own to pay.  In fact, I still have a few bills to pay.  Once I've paid them, I'll be lucky if I have two or three golds left."      "How much does the proprietor of this inn charge to rent a room per night?" I asked, changing the subject slightly.      "Drugl, that is, mister Winstonn, charges me a half silver," Orin said.      "A half silver?  He charges me a whole silver!" Skylar said.      "I take up less room than you," Orin said.      Skylar grinned.  "Yeah, but you make up for it by eating more."      "I don't eat more than you," Orin said.      I thought it wise to get us back on track or I might end up listening to another argument.  "Well, if mister Winstonn charges me a silver per night, then I should have enough money to let me stay here for a while, including meals."  I gave both of my new acquaintances a pointed look, if you know what I mean.  "But I don't want to stay here until my money runs out.  A horse isn't absolutely necessary to journey out to that wizard you mentioned.  My memory recall may not be up to much, but there's nothing wrong with my feet.  I will need something in the way of supplies and I should have enough funds for that.  Now, can either of you draw me a map to this wizard's residence?"      Orin and Skylar looked at each other, then they looked back at me.      "Who needs a map?" Orin said.  "You've got me!"      Skylar looked back at Orin.  "You're not serious," he said.      "Sure I am," Orin said to Skylar.  "What else have I got to do in this town?  The prospects for jobs," he glanced at me "uh, employment," he looked back at Skylar, "has greatly diminished of late.  Besides, I haven't gone adventuring for years."  He looked back to me again.  "I'm going with you, so you won't need a map."      I smiled at him.  "Well, if you've nothing else to do, I'd welcome your company," I said.  First he said "jobs" then he said "employment".  Hm.      I pushed back from the table a bit.  That was a lot of stew.  This Drugl Winstonn was generous in his helpings of food.  Hopefully, he doesn't charge entirely by size for his rooms.  Orin was a dwarf or midget, well, a little person in any case.  Skylar was about five foot seven or so, but he was a tad on the thin side.  I'm five foot eleven, as I mentioned earlier, but my muscles are a bit more on the bulky side than Skylar's.  I'm a bit more well proportioned, if I do say so myself.  So if mister Winstonn really does charge by size, and he charges a half silver for Orin and a whole silver for Skylar, he might charge me a silver and a half.      "You're daft," Skylar said.  "Prospects, you told me three days ago, have never been better.  Things couldn't have changed that much in three days.  You only just met him."  He gave a nod in my direction, then he glanced at me.  "No offense."      "None taken," I said.  I hid a brief smile behind my mug of water and took a drink.      "You know nothing about him and now you're ready to go off to who knows where," Skylar said.      "We're going to Arthester Jalivay's in the Ylan Mountains," Orin said.  "I know where that is."      "That's not the point I was trying to make," Skylar said.      "I know the point you were trying to make," Orin said.  He looked away from his friend and picked up his mug.  He glanced back at the other man.  "I appreciate it."  He took a drink of his grog and stifled a belch.  "I'm going."  He rose from his seat.  "I'm also going to bed.  I'm about done in."      Skylar rose and I figured I might as well too.  "I've got to see a man about a bill of mine," Skylar said.  "I'd better get going before he closes up shop."  He turned to me.  "Pleasure meeting you, Arif."  We clasped forearms briefly.  He turned back to his diminutive friend.  "You be careful."  He turned to leave, then glanced over his shoulder.  "I want my money," he said.  Then he left.      "Come, Arif," Orin said.  "I'll introduce you to Drugl and you can arrange for a room for this evening."      I followed him over to the bar.  I noticed that the twins were off serving drinks at a couple of tables.  Orin noticed too.  He looked disappointed.  Perhaps the twins were doing too well at tip earning to make a rendezvous tonight.  It's just as well.  I really thought a good night's rest tonight would be for the best anyway.      Drugl Winstonn was about my height and well built for the most part.  But the tightening of the leather shirt he wore and the slight droop of his apron indicated to me that he was developing a bit of an ale belly.  He had salt and pepper hair that he wore long and tied into a pony-tail.  As we approached him, Orin spoke up and told him my name and that I needed a room.      "How long will you be needin' the room?" Drugl asked me.  His voice was deep and his attitude would lead one to believe that he was a no nonsense sort.  But I quickly learned that he had a good sense of humor.      "One night," I said.  "If all goes well."      "One night," he repeated.  "If all goes well." He looked at me and then he chuckled.  "If all goes well for you and not me, eh?"  He laughed a hearty laugh.  "Well, any friend of Orin's needs his luck."      Orin looked embarrassed.  "Could you just let him have a room?  I'm tired and I want to go to mine."      "Very well, friends," Drugl said.  "Yes, Arif.  I can let you have a room for the night at one silver."      Good, he was only going to charge me one silver and not one and a half.  I quickly dug out a silver from my purse and gave it to him.      "Through that door," Drugl said, pointing to my left, "up the right hand stairs, first door on the left."      I thanked him and complemented him on the stew.  Apparently, it was his own recipe and he was pleased that I had enjoyed it.      I followed Orin up the stairs and he bid me good night at my door.  Then he went down to the end of the hallway and opened the door to a room on the opposite side of the hallway from mine.  He glanced at me, nodded and waited until I entered my room.  I didn't hear his door close but I peeked out and the door to his room was shut.      My room contained a bed that was comfortable though simple in design, a small bedside table with an unlit candle in a holder and a small chest at the foot of the bed.  I set my backpack on the chest and walked over to the small window and looked out.      My view was to a back yard and an alley beyond that.  There was a tree of good size in Drugl Winstonn's back yard.  Not much really to look at unless one likes to watch leaves rustle in the wind.  I removed my purse and shoved it under my pillow.  I placed my sword near the head of my bed so that it would be to hand if needed.  My dagger, after a brief thought, got shoved under the pillow too.  I stripped down and was just about to undo and remove my pants before retiring when I stopped and thought how wrong everything seemed.      I plopped down on the bed and sat there, staring in the direction of the opposite wall and not caring if I saw it.  I wanted to see what my life was supposed to be like.  Why couldn't I remember?  And, as it developed, I wondered why I seemed to keep getting a headache whenever I tried to recall my past?      I sighed, and lay back on the bed.  I covered myself with the thin blanket that was on the bed and tried to get some sleep. - = - = - Return to top of page. Chapter Two     I...uhm...don't think I'm ready for email yet.    ;-) But that doesn't mean you can't try and send me a note! Copyright © 2002, 2003 B. J. Miller Jr. All Rights Reserved