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Subject: Camara, Lady of the Sword  by Tom Bombadil  -- Chapter 1
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Camara, Lady of the Sword - Heroic Fantasy  

Book 1 - "Hope and a Prayer" - Chapter 1 / 9

Story #6
By Tom Bombadil  (c) Sep 1997

Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended 
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is 
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are 
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you 
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this 
text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions 
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of 
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or 
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in 
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or 
relatives.

You've been warned.

I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story.

===================================================================

Author's Notes: 

The Camara stories are set in a fantasy world.  There is lots of 
intrigue, swordplay, magic, death, torture, rape, etc., and even 
some regular sex.  Some or all of these are included in each story.  
I try not to dwell upon the negative aspects, but sometimes the 
story, or the characters themselves, demand a detailed accounting of 
such actions.  The stories are definitely NOT written for the 
torture/rape/snuff crowd.

This is not your usual feel-good sex romp.  It is raw, unfiltered, 
and sometimes very painful and emotional.  Many different types of 
subjects are included, some playful, some deeply disturbing.  Times 
were very different then than they are today.  Do not read if you 
have a delicate nature, or if you cannot handle unsettling subjects, 
sometimes described in detail.  On the other hand, sex, lust, love, 
and good times are also part of most of these stories.

Again, I write stories, where the feelings and interactions of the 
various people are as important as anything else, and in this story, 
probably more important than anything else.  The characters here 
won't resemble Dick and Jane next door, but you will recognize their 
feelings, hopes, dreams, fears, and anything else necessary to tell 
the tales I weave.

There is a very limited amount of hard-core sex of any kind in this 
tale.  In fact, the swordplay probably has three times as much 
material as the hard stuff.  There is, however, a fair bit of 
personal angst, sensuality, soul-searching, and romanticism.  If all 
you want is a quick jerk-off (or rub-off), this isn't the story for 
you.  If, however, you want to be introduced to a new set of heroes, 
read on.

If you've seen the new TV show Xena, then you know what Camara looks 
like.  Her image was in my mind when I began writing this story.  
That is the *only* thing I have taken from the show.  Everything 
else is mine, so anyone hoping that this is a Xena story is out of 
luck.  Even so, you still might like it ...


Lastly, it took me more than a year to finish this story.  I'd like 
to know if anyone out there is actually reading what I write.

========================================================================
| Editor's note:                                                       |
|                                                                      |
| Tom's 'British' spellings are retained, primarily because they fit   |
| the story so well.                                                   |
|                                                                      |
| Subsequent chapters of this story will not be posted at this time.   |
| All of the chapters can be found at this web site:                   |
|                                                                      |
|     http://members.aol.com/ptvstories                                |
|                                                                      |
| along with the other Tom Bombadil stories, PORNO TV stories, and the |
| Trinity Trilogy Novel.                                               |
|                                                                      |
| The Tom Bombadil-only page is at this address:                       |
|     http://members.aol.com/tombadil                                  |
|                                                                      |
| You can write to Tom Bombadil at tombadil@aol.com.                   |
|                                                                      |
========================================================================

********************************************************************

*  Initial cast of characters
*
*  Lady Camara of Tyberion (pronounced Ka-ma'-rah, similar to 
*    cabana), swordsman, archer, minor mage, skilled in unarmed 
*    combat as well as with many weapons, highly knowledgeable in 
*    diverse areas, especially healing.
*  Captains - Lord Verran of Tyberion and Sir William of
*    Lyon, both renowned and skilled fighters and leaders.
*  Humboldt - her pet wizard.  Rather inefficient as a battle 
*    mage, but good with recharging magic.  Skilled, well educated, 
*    but weak.
*  Briana - (pronounced bree-a'-na, again, similar to cabana)  she 
*    was once Camara's lover.  Excellent street fighter.
*    Skilled in unarmed combat, skilled with knife, garrote, 
*    short sword, darts, bow, and other weapons.
*  Trieste - lady thief, assassin, bard, dancer, and sometime 
*    madame, former native of Gedren, skilled with knife, blowgun, 
*    garotte, poisons, skilled locksmith and lockpick, some magic 
*    ability.
*  Deena, huntress, expert with natural weapons & sling, good with 
*    knife, bow, and staff.
*  Arden, hunter, good with short sword, bow, staff, spear, javelin, 
*    natural weapons.  Mate to Deena
*  Bracchus of Trakus - Camara's current stud.  Powerful fighter, 
*    expert with sword and spear, good with knife.  Best in toe to 
*    toe open combat.
*  Taggart - ladies man, skilled lover, nasty street fighter,
*    skilled with hands, feet, knife, chakram, sling, bo sticks,
*    and a number of other weapons.
*  Timian - journeyman healer, sage and alchemist, good with staff
*    and sling.
*  Lydia - would-be bard, skilled dancer, skilled with lute,
*    expert with darts, skilled with sling, knife, and staff.
*  Her God is Escalia, guardian of maidens and children, ruler of 
*    the heart, avenger of broken loves (only a few of her 
*    aspects).
*  Hired by Merovance, King of Saldar, to steal back the Medallion 
*    of the Sabre.  He lives in a palace in Saldar City.
*  City of Gedren - the place where she is heading, where the 
*    Medallion is rumoured to be.

Note:  I use titles that are familiar to the modern day reader, 
ones that would be somewhat similar to the ancient forms.  'Sir', 
'Lord', 'Lady', 'King', 'Count', etc., are ranks understood by most 
people, especially me.

********************************************************************

( The Bard speaks:  

For those who care, this is the introductory tale of Camara, the 
first one taught to bards in training.  Few master the intricacies 
of this epic until well into their journeyman years because of the 
difficulty in conveying the subtleties of human interaction during 
extreme emotional stress.  Some never learn or understand.

Camara's stories may only be told late in the evening, when innocent
children, and even some innocent wives and husbands, have retired.
Few are unaffected by the proper telling of her tales, though the
reactions are often mixed.

This story is one from her middle years, during her climb to fame,
long after her journey through slavery, but before she began toying 
with the idea of becoming royalty.  It boasts of her prowess and 
the beginnings of her magic, yet also allows a glimpse into her 
soul, that which is never revealed in the common tales and rumours.

Yes, my Lord, you are correct.  Camara herself did aid in the 
crafting of this tale.  That is why I consider it a rare and 
precious gift.  Few master bards have ever had the privilege of 
discourse with the principal of so many adventures.  I myself 
studied under the great bard who wrote this epic, so I know these 
facts to be true.

Please get comfortable.  Refill your drinks if desired.  The tale is 
long, yet none have ever been asleep at the end of my telling of 
it.

<Some movement, throats are cleared, a servant refills several
wineglasses and tankards, then all is silent with anticipation.>

We begin with Camara and her troops on a journey, currently deep in 
the wilds, while on a mercenary mission for a powerful king.  He has 
hired her a band of sell-swords, as well as sending along a 
contingent of his own troops, to aid in the recovery of a certain 
item.  This item is important to him, as without it, he will not 
remain king for long.  Camara has a problem ... )


Lady Camara rose up on her knees, then lowered herself again.  Her 
face was tight with concentration, furrowed with intensity.  The 
sensations generated by Bracchus' cock sliding within were well 
understood by half the human race, yet completely alien to the other 
half.  Phrases such as wonderful friction, delightful fullness, and 
ultimate pleasure, simply describe - they could never convey the 
true depth from which such feelings come.  Yet, despite several 
recent attempts, the ultimate culmination of such activities had 
been denied her.  M'Lady was almost desperate in her need for 
release.

A sound, a discordant note, penetrated through to her clouded mind.  
Camara closed out the noise without thinking of its significance, 
lust overcoming her normal reactions.  A faint scream brought her 
back.  She heard swords clashing in the distance.  "No, not now, 
not again!"  She moaned, stopping her motion, placing a hand on 
the chest of the man beneath her to still him as well.

"M'Lady!  We're under attack!  We need you!"  That was from Lord 
Verran, first captain, just outside her tent.

"I'll be right there!"  The moment was lost - her tight knot of 
pleasure dissipating quickly.  She climbed off Bracchus with a 
snarl, lust and desire converting to rage.  She'd been close - so 
close!  That was the third time she'd been interrupted.  "Somebody 
is going to pay dearly this time!" she swore quietly to herself.

Lady Camara dressed quickly after drying herself on the bedding.   
Silk undergarments, leather breechclout, padded leather surcoat, 
boots, and partial plate armour for chest, back, and shoulders.

With familiar efficiency she strapped on her outer weapons and 
checked her secret ones.  Long sword, long knife, short knife, 
chakram(*), sling, stones, boot knife, breast knife, hidden heel 
knife, wire tools in her padding, garrote in her surcoat, sapphire 
pendant, left ring still in place, right ring still in place.  
Everything was in order, she was ready to go.  

All that took less than two minutes.

"Is it the same bastards again?" she asked of Verran as she left her
tent.

"I think so, M'Lady.  No insignia, no identity.  They attacked 
quickly, killed several people, then vanished.  They lost two.  Both 
are dead, even though their wounds were not fatal."  That was 
typical of Lord Verran.  Ten seconds after the fact he already knew 
most of the story.

"Let's go see what happened."

There were two guards dead, as well as a mercenary, a cook ... and 
Briana.  

Camara dropped to her knees, staring at the still-bleeding body 
before her, pain lancing through her spirit.  Unnoticed tears began  
tracing their way down her cheeks as she touched the woman's face 
with trembling fingers.  Briana's throat had been slit from behind.  
Death would have been very fast in arriving, too fast for any sort 
of healing to be of use.  After a moment, Camara's expression 
changed from deep pain to an intense, controlled neutrality, and a 
cold fire settled in her heart.  Verran was one of the few people 
who could read the rage that was seething behind her eyes.  

Briana was Sir William's fiancee.  Prior to that, she had been 
Camara's lover for a year.  A very close, intimate lover, rather 
than one of her usual bedmates.  Now it was personal.  That boded 
ill for whomever was behind the attacks.

"Find Sir William.  Round up a squad of rangers and trackers.  Get 
me Humboldt.  I want these vermin."  Camara steeled herself, willing 
away the grief that she knew would eventually overtake her.  

All told, they had lost five guards, seven mercenaries, a cook, her
favourite thief, one ranger, and Briana.  Five attacks in ten days, 
this the first one at night, all from nowhere, with the assassins 
literally vanishing before their eyes.  It was also the third attack 
to interrupt her personal pleasure, which she considered 
unimportant, yet significant.  The timing was too good to be 
coincidental.

It was obvious to her that someone was trying to keep them from 
completing their mission.  King Merovance wanted his medallion back
and hired her to get it.  Whoever stole it didn't want the King to 
get it back.  Merovance's offer was generous because of what he 
stood to lose.  There was payment in gold, of course, as well as 
certain silks she wanted for another commission, but what clinched 
the deal was his offer of a service from his court wizard.  She 
wanted one more magical effect in her rings, one that would 
permanently link them to her.  Such a spell was within the 
capabilities of that spell caster, and very few others.  But before 
such could be had, she needed to gain the amulet, and doing that 
meant discovering the thief's identity.  Finding out who was behind 
the attacks, she believed, would lead her closer to her quarry.  

Now it was a matter of tracking the assassins back to their base, 
capturing their leader - alive, if possible - and persuading him to 
talk a bit about his master.  "Simple," she quipped to herself.  The 
other thing she wanted to know was how they managed to find her with 
such ease, and with such perfect timing, despite all the precautions 
of her rangers and the magical wards encircling the camp.

Lord Verran came up to her, followed closely by Sir William.  
Despite the wetness of tears on his face, Sir William looked 
composed and ready to fight.  That large and imposing warrior, clad 
mostly in plate mail, was renowned for his fighting prowess.  The 
man was also handsome and dashing, with bright brown eyes, short, 
black, curly hair, and a chocolate skin.  His passions ran deep and 
strong.  He was fiercely protective of those he cared for, and he 
and Briana had been in love.  M'Lady knew he would not be fit for  
any kind of mission right then.

"William, take care of Briana, and the rest of the camp.  Please.
Verran and I are going after the assassins.  When we find them, I 
promise they will pay.  And if I can, I'll bring one back for you."

"M'Lady."  He saluted and marched off, bellowing orders left and 
right.  She could hear the sorrow in his voice.  Briana and he had 
been very close.  She had been a good lover for Camara, and a better 
one for Sir William, as well as being the nastiest knife fighter 
either had ever seen.  She would be sorely missed.

"Where's that damned wizard," she muttered under her breath.  "Never
on time, never where you need him, that lazy useless miserable 
dried-up bundle of sticks."  Those two had been friends for almost 
a decade.  If any other person talked of him like that, she would 
probably have threatened to run the poor sod through.  Camara headed 
for his tent, followed closely by her captain.  They found Humboldt 
close by, huddled over one of the enemy corpses.

"Well?  Any luck with these ones?"

"Come off it, Camara.  Whoever sent these guys is good.  There's 
nothing traceable in their equipment or on their persons.  Just like 
the others."  He smiled and winked at her.  "But one of these guys 
was a little sloppy.  He stepped in something on the way here.  If 
we use your night hound, we may be able to find them."

"How?"

"Simple.  The teleport spell they're using is a short range one, 
good for no more than a mile.  Somewhere out there is a track to 
follow.  Use the hound, make a big circle, and, if we're lucky, we 
get something to go on."  He had intelligence and wit.  That was why 
he was there.  His knowledge of magic, and his skill, were very 
good, but his power was weak to the point of near-uselessness.  She 
had far more power than him, but lacked his years of training and 
study.  They made a decent team.

"Why the hound?  Why not have Deena or Arden do the tracking?"

"There's a wizard at work somewhere using magical misdirection 
spells.  No normal tracking, either visual or by scent, has much 
chance of success.  The hound is immune to almost all of those types 
of influences, unlike the hunters."

"Let's do it.  I want the bastard behind this.  I want to make him 
suffer."  She looked like she was ready to rend someone limb from
limb.

"Oh?  It's personal now, is it?"

Camara's voice was low and dangerous as she replied.  
"They got Briana."  

"I - I'm sorry, M'Lady.  I didn't know."

"It's all right, Humboldt.  I don't feel it much, not yet.  That 
will have to wait.  Right now, I want some blood - and the sooner, 
the better."

"Go get ready for the hound.  I'll be at your tent shortly."

She left to prepare for her summoning.  Humboldt and Verran watched 
her go.  There was no mistaking Camara for anyone else, especially 
in her armour.  She was a true warrior - her father long 
disappeared, her mother a shopkeeper.  Trained by experts in the art 
of warfare, some say she was favoured by the gods.  Whispers of 
strange happenings around her conception and birth were usually met 
with steel, so few spoke openly of those things.

Two fingerwidths under six feet tall, with long dark hair, blue, 
expressive eyes, pouting red mouth, round face tanned by sun and 
weather, stronger than most men, yet beautiful and seductive, she 
had the figure of a real princess and legs the envy of all.  Many 
men made the mistake of trying to force their favours on her.  Most 
survived.  The women who approached her were more likely to 
succeed.

Back at her tent, Bracchus was dressed, armed, and ready, standing
outside the entrance.  Camara's image of him was of a big man, 
strong, a little lacking in wits perhaps, but doughty and skillful 
in a stand up fight.  For tracking and guerrilla operations, he would 
be a handicap.  He wasn't good looking either, with a big, square, 
scarred face, crushed nose, bull neck, and thick, heavy body.  She 
hadn't picked him for his looks or his fighting skills, however.  It 
was the persistent tales of his stamina and skilled tongue among the 
tavern maids that drew her to him.  Over the past several weeks he'd 
proven most of those rumours true, as well as proving to be both 
attentive and caring.  Their pleasures would have to wait again, 
possibly for many days.  More frustration for both.

"Might as well get some sleep, Bracchus.  I'm going hunting and may
not be back for a while."

"Very well, M'Lady.  Strike a few blows for me.  They got one of my 
old comrades yesterday."

"I will, I promise you."

He left without another word.  She started preparing for the 
summoning.  It was a complex spell, one well beyond her skills, and 
possibly even beyond Humboldt's.  The figurine she would use had 
been crafted by a much better wizard in exchange for certain rare 
materials (like the silks she would be receiving, she hoped).  
Still, some preparation and some magic were necessary, and a small 
amount of danger existed even using a figurine.

Camara gathered up the herbs, the choke chain, the large collar, and 
the live chicken.  None were absolutely essential, but helped to 
reduce the risk of a possible backfire.  Humboldt arrived.

In the dirt in front of her tent he inscribed a large pentagram 
and placed the figurine at its centre.  Muttering certain words of 
power, he drew wards at all inner and outer points, carefully 
removing himself from the middle when done.  Camara lit the herbs 
and threw them into the pentagram's focus, followed quickly by the 
collar.  Muttering a certain incantation, she summoned the infernal 
beast and at the same time silently prayed everything would go 
smoothly.

With a pyrotechnic shower of flame and sparks and the accompanying
roar and explosion, it appeared.  The smell of burnt flesh and 
brimstone filled the air.  She threw the chicken into the centre, 
where her new creature killed and ate the hapless bird in two 
gulps.  Striding carefully into the circle, Camara placed the choke 
chain around it's neck, then led it out towards the wizard.

----------

Once they found the assassin's trail, aided by that smelly boot,
it was easy for her night hound to follow the scent to their camp.
Commanded to silence, surrounded by Camara's quietness cantrip(*), 
she and her commando group were completely noiseless and snuck in 
close to the pickets.

It looked quiet and peaceful.  Only one guard was visible, pacing 
the camp.  There were a half-dozen tents, as well as over twenty 
sleeping rolls, around several campfires.  Camara guessed at thirty 
five warriors, Verran guessed at just over forty, including at least 
one mage.  They numbered twelve.  All knew it would be a slaughter.

She sent Deena the huntress to the left along with one ranger, and 
sent Arden, who was Deena's mate and fellow hunter, to the right, 
accompanied by another ranger.  They were to take care of any other 
pickets out there.

Humboldt pointed out the half-dozen trip wires and alarm circles 
to Camara.  Following his silent instructions, she disarmed and 
dispersed them, without setting off any or alerting the original 
caster.  She was still learning how to 'taste' and 'feel' other 
people's magic.  When she was done, it was just about time.

----------

Inside the camp, Gerrold had just finished his report to Captain 
Torres via the image crystal.  According to him, things were going 
smoothly.  So far, they'd traded twelve assassins for fifteen of 
Camara's men, including the thief and the woman street fighter.  
Another week like this, and she'd be so low on warriors he might 
consider a frontal attack to get rid of her once and for all.  His 
orders were to stop her from reaching Gedren, and if that meant 
killing her, so much the better.

He wondered briefly about who was behind the whole thing.  Obviously 
the person had gold to spare, power, connections, and a problem.  
The image crystals were only available from a few very powerful 
mages at prices that would bankrupt a small city.  Those assassins, 
being spent like coppers, were also well-trained and well-armed.  
Not that they were a real match for Camara's troops.  Without that 
teleport device, enabling them to pop in and out of the woman's 
camp, they would never survive.  It was another sign that whomever 
was behind the scenes was very wealthy - and very desperate.

A muffled thud outside his tent gained his attention, but before he 
could investigate, a huge, horrific beast appeared in his doorway.  
It looked vaguely dog-like, but with reptilian skin, no ears, 
glowing blue eyes, a huge, gaping mouth, and a set of teeth any 
shark would be proud of.  Standing four feet tall at the shoulder, 
it looked large and deadly.  Gerrold drew his sword, ready to sell 
his life as dearly as possible.

----------

The attack had gone quickly and silently.  Deena and Arden had no
trouble locating and silencing the pickets.  Camara's chakram took 
out two guards inside the camp, slicing through their throats 
without even a whisper, ricochetting off a distant tree and back 
into her hand, as always.  Verran's throwing knife took out the 
third.  All the others in that camp were either in the tents, 
asleep, or unconscious.

Her rangers quickly and silently immobilized all the assassins 
sleeping in the open.  Casting another quietness cantrip, Camara 
snuck into each tent in turn, immobilizing their occupants.  She 
sent her night hound into the last tent, the largest, just to make 
a good impression.

Gerrold was stunned to see Camara step up beside her beast.  "You!" 
was all he managed to utter before a blow from behind rendered him 
unconscious.

----------

Humboldt woke him with a splash of water to his face.  When he 
finally spluttered and coughed enough to pay attention to his 
surroundings, he saw he was surrounded by enemies.  

Camara, the tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed warrior witch, eyeing him 
with amusement tainted by distaste.

In the corner, that enormous pseudo dog, sitting there with obvious
hunger in it's eyes, staring at him.

A young, skinny man - Humboldt - looking no more than seventeen or
eighteen, pale as the belly of a fish, with dull brown eyes and limp
brown hair.  He looked like one of those stick men the puppeteers in
different villages use on occasion.

One huge woman - Deena - well over six feet tall and heavy to 
match.  She had yellow eyes and tawny blond hair.  Despite her 
height and girth, she moved with a simple, effortless grace that 
implied great strength and speed.  Gerrold guessed that she must be 
one of the weretigers he'd been told about.

A tall, elegant looking gentleman - Lord Verran - dressed in tan 
leathers.  His weapons were simple and functional, as was his helm, 
yet he carried himself with the bearing and manner of a prince, or a 
king.  His piercing grey-green eyes seemed to bore straight through 
Gerrold's skull, peering around inside at all the hidden evils and 
secret thoughts.  His thin face and pencil moustache matched his 
lean, tightly muscled physique.  The man looked dangerous, even 
without a weapon in his hand.

The pounding ache in the back of Gerrold's skull made thought, let 
alone speech, difficult.  He simply stared back at his captors,
waiting for something to happen.

"Get ready to give him the potion, Humboldt," said Camara.  Then,
looking at their prisoner, tied naked and spread-eagled on the bed,
she spoke in a light, easy tone.  "What's your name?"

"Gerrold."  There was no reason for him to lie about that.  Any 
wizard could perform the spells they wanted using body parts.  His 
name was only necessary if they didn't have anything physical 
available.  The only two pieces of information he knew he had to 
withhold were of the image crystal and the name of his immediate 
superior.  If he started to talk about either, then the poison 
embedded in his tooth would shoot into his blood and kill him in 
only a few seconds.  He'd seen the victims - they looked like they 
died in horrible agony.

"All right, Gerrold."  Camara was speaking again.  "My pet wizard 
here is going to feed you a potion.  Be sure to drink it all, 
because it's very valuable.  It's to help with that nasty headache 
you no doubt have.  I want you wide awake to answer some questions 
I have."

He drank without protest.  Within a few moments it had removed the 
pains in the back of his head and, he suddenly realized, one in his 
mouth, one in his lower stomach, and another in his right forearm.

"Good boy.  Oh, this potion does have some rather special side 
effects as well.  You'll speak when spoken to, and answer all our 
questions as completely as you can.  You can no longer lie or 
withhold anything.  I find it very useful at times."

Gerrold knew that he was protected against that type of truth 
potion.  It was one of the requirements for his job.

"Just to make sure you don't fade away on us, we've removed your 
fancy tooth, the ruby embedded in your arm, and the sapphire buried 
in your gut.  All were very nicely magicked, I might add.  They were 
difficult to take out without killing you."

He'd known about the ruby.  "A sapphire?  Well, I'm still 
protected against the truth potion," was his private thought.

"First question.  Who's behind these attacks?" asked Camara.

"Ares," he said.  "What the hell," he thought.  "The worst that 
can happen is the god appearing in person."

"He's lying," stated Humboldt.  "He must be resistant to the potion."

"Oh gooooood!"  Camara said that with obvious joy.  The ugly smile
on her face and the glint of real evil in her eyes did terrible 
things to both men's insides.  "I take it he's quite secured and 
defenceless now, Humboldt?"

"Yes, M'Lady.  All magic has been removed from him, inside and out, 
and those special fetters will prevent his casting any spells.  He 
is at your mercy."

"My, my, my.  Such a treat.  Verran, would you please bind his mouth 
open so he can't bite.  Then everyone leave.  Humboldt, take the 
hound with you as well.  I'll be quite a while in here."

********************************************************************

* Author's notes

Chakram - an ancient eastern weapon.  It vaguely resembles a hollow 
Frisbee, like one of those children's toys called a flying ring.  
It is made from quality swordmetal and is sharpened on the outer 
edge.  A skilled practitioner can strike an accurate and killing 
blow from fifty paces with ease.  Camara's weapon is not your 
average run-of-the-mill item.  That weapon has its own rather 
storied past.  Camara happens to be the latest owner.

Cantrip - a small spell, one that can be cast quickly, with little 
power, using only words and/or motions.

<End of chapter 1>


-----------------------------------------------------

Again, the continuing chapters will not be reposted here.  You can
find them at either

http://members.aol.com/tombadil

or 

http://members.aol.com/ptvstories

-----------------------------------------------------



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