"Hahaha, you smell like coffee," said Chu-Sup. "and you seem to have gained some weight. You see I am done with army, so I may return to my magic study."

"Wonderful," said Brandesh.

"Now let us battle."

1,000 dire-wolves were summoned, and the battle was begun.


Gratey fumbled for change in his goldpurse. At 55, he was not rich, but he had money for the tobacco and poppymilk he had bought earlier. He felt something in his huge stomach, something wicked, so he went to his boarding room and picked up his lute. After some Navory Tobacco and poppymilk, he began to play. Slowly at first, so as not to wake them.

Gratey had known of the spirit-world for many moons. The spirits talked though his music, he had learned this true since he was a boy.

Gratey lit his tobacco and pondered while he strummed. As he exhaled a great cloud of smoke he saw it, two strong magic-boys making magic.

He saw their armies build, first from a skeleton crew, into a torrent of over 1,000 dire-wolves. He now knew what the music meant, he knew this game that the boys were playing, it was called Wolf Scratch, the Battle of Triarch. While he puffed on his pipe he mused over the intricacies of the game he saw. Some wolves were white, and could heal; aye, that he could clearly see. It had only been when the healing wolves had tired that the Eastern boys's water-wolves could ensnare the white beasts. Some of the wolves towered over otheres; aye, and some could fly...


Gratey then used his mind powers to reach out to the western boy.

"Use your axe boy... your magic axe..." Gratey whispered.



A magic axe appeared and smited many a wolf.


So Brandesh harnessed the power of the magic axe. But just as he used it; defeating many a dire-wolf, Gratey vanished from their site. Where could he have gone?


It was half-past midnight in Little Triarch, and Sarah was resting her eyes, when she saw a big, fat, happy old man; playing a lute.


Gratey had known where to find the princess since searching in one of his songs.
This occasion had been sparked by a round of Navory Tobacco in his lounge. After inhaling one large toke, he began to have visions.

He saw the princess there, beautiful as she was and began to play his lute for her.

"Are you a ghost or an apparition?" She said. "Who are you?"

"Gratey."

"Your music is beautiful! I've never heard anything like it."


"Let me sing that pain away,
like washin' off the rain,
blue-dress kinda day."



Princess Sarah luxuriated in the music. When the "ghost" of Gratey offered her some Navory Tobacco she said, ""What's that? I heard Lord Stan likes it."

"Nothing but the good earth's herb m'girl; best you should know its pleasure."

"But isn't it forbiddon by the high-church"

"Tis' nothing but what the True-God has made for us to better see his vision."

SHe hesitantly took in a hot toke, Gratey spawning the fire. He could immediatly tell that she was feeling the effects. First her crown fell off, then she stared off into space for awhile.
Five minutes later she was laughing at a merry tune Gratey was singing.


"Say boy I stabbed a man,
out in the southern hills,
a bottle of whiskey-high,
cures all my earthly ills."


Suddenly there was a knock on the door. She knew it was Lord Stan, coming to steal a kiss from her, no doubt.

"Come with me, girl," Gratey said, opening the trap-door behind her.

"Here in this little door..."

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