I had been trying to work out a new and innovative way to present several different fantasy characters of varying background. As an experiment in how this might be achieved, I started the Keep of Chevalier.

She stood motionless on the balcony of the once great Keep of Chevalier. Now in ruins, Chevalier's mortar was crumbling, it's walls, pillars and stones infested with weeds. The low moan of the wind was now the only voice heard in the decaying remnants of its great halls. The woman’s long black hair and translucent flowing dress moved with the wind. Her pale skin glowed in the light of the full moon. Then, like someone woken from a long sleep, she stirred and drifted to the balcony’s edge. Her palms rested lightly on the worn stone rail as she looked out into the dense, dark forests which surrounded Chevalier.

The calls of crows bursting from the woodland below drew her attention. The figure of a man stumbled recklessly through the undergrowth, the lights of torches following him some distance behind. She watched the man from her place high above as he stumbled blindly from one tree to the next. Falling, getting up, only to fall once more. Those who bore the torches followed more slowly in the man’s wake. Tracking or hunting him.

“This is none of our concern,” she murmured to herself. Yet she could not take her eyes off the game of cat and mouse unfolding below her. “Perhaps,” she thought, “we should do something.” She traced one of her slim eyebrows with her finger over and over as she thought. “Yes I know,” she answered an unspoken question. “It is a distraction that we don’t need.”

She turned from the chase and made to leave the balcony. Stopping after two steps, she began rubbing at her temples. “Would you all just quit your bickering?”

After a moment the woman visibly relaxed and returned to her former place by the balcony rail. “If it will settle things, I’ll just even the odds. Will that end the debate?” The wind ruffled her hair and dress. “Good. Then I’ll need to concentrate—so not a word until I’m done.”

Stretching forth her hands, she whispered to the night wind. The air became heavy with moisture and the strong wind became a slight breeze. It wasn’t long before a quickly thickening fog began to creep around Chevalier and its surrounding forest.

“There.” She spoke in a satisfied tone. “The fog will hide him. If he’s smart enough he might even outrun his pursuers.” A frown suddenly replaced her self-satisfied smile. “You’re right. Those who follow him may have a magi with them. He would know that this fog is not natural. I didn’t think of that.”

Looking through the fog as if it were not there, she watched the torches slow and stop. The man lay quiet in the brush, unmoving. “You think you can scare them off?” Her hands returned to rubbing her temples. “That’s not what I asked!” she growled. “Because if I use any more magic and they have a magi, he can detect me.”

The woman closed her eyes, a look of firm concentration on her face. Her posture changed and she stood more at ease and less stiff. Her hand moved to rest on her hip as a wily smile played across her face. She opened her eyes and looked about as if seeing her whole surroundings for the first time. She carefully eyed the scene below before turning and walking briskly toward the room off the balcony.

“I told you this would be trouble,” she muttered as she marched into the room.