Bad Luck Charm, part four

         So we travel back up the valley and go to the kingsway stead of the village.  From the thicket there we met with the rest of the peers.   There were six others.  One was what we called a halfman in those days, though as ye know he ain’t a man, half or otherwise.  Went by the name of Dolor Stonehelm.
         The archer Elis Silverwood, that supposedly was able ta hit a fallin’ cherry at a hundred paces, was there with ‘is brother Aurt.  There was a truly handsome devil, just a bit long in the teeth and I don’t mean old, called Innias.  They said his mom slept with an ogre, but he never said and I wasn’t about to ask, though come to think of it he relished his meat more than most.  Along with them was the priest Segil Sunspeare.
         It seems a priest is a necessary part of any endeavor, which on the face of it seems like a good idea.  Divine Sanction to the purpose of the quest, some such idea anyway.  It always seemed to me to be a poor idea at best.  I figure if ye got one god on yer side, yer bound tohave another against it, maybe more.  ‘Sides, ye never know when yer priest has a crisis of faith or strays a bit; nuthin’ more allurin’ than the forbidden, works both ways too. There’s lasses out there that like to see if they can tempt the pure of heart.  Course, when this happens, watch out.  Gods be more jealous’n a suspicious fishwife. 
        Finally, there was the Soul Cursed one.  I don’t for the life of me remember his name when I met him then, but he was a young lad.  Chipper too.  Never seen a bigger smile, laughed all the time and it wasn’t forced.  Made everyone uncomfortable though, and there was some distance between him and the others.  That’s saying something too, because even the halfman was treated more companionably.
        Ye never heard of the Soul Cursed, neither?  Well, I’m just about to come to the nature of that one’s peculiar life, or lives, ain’t sure how ye figure it really.  Suppose it don’t matter much.
        Now, I know ye heard of  some of these lads and yer thinking they’re heros, but they ain’t, leastwise where the luck was.  Fargyle was a villain, if ever there was one.  There’s a reason they practice the ‘dark arts.’ Most wizards, whether it’s cause a certain sort’s attracted to that form of employ or they just get twisted as they learn too much, are evil by any way of figuring it.  Fargyle may have had luck, but he didn’t trust it.
        The others?  Well none of ‘em were heros with good or bad luck.  Strange occurrences didn’t just happen round any of ‘em, like it does round a hero.  A hero ain’t able to go anywhere with out getting crosswise with an evil cult bent on world domination, a clan war flarin’ up, or gettin’ involved with a supernatural incident of end of the world proportions.  Nuthin’ like that ever occurs til a hero arrives in town.  Ye ask me, when a hero shows up, tis best to leave town before the mortician gets too much work.  The world be over run with unspeakables if heros didn’t have the uncanny ability to be where they were needed.  None of the peers had that knack for trouble.
         I doubt a true hero would throw in with Fargyle, so he got a bad luck charm.
        So we’re gathered together ‘n I can see them lookin’ at us tryin’ to figure which has the bad luck.
        Lo’an slaps me on the back and says, “Talf and Kelig here, have joined our cause.”  I could see a change in how they looked at the two of us and twas more friendly in me direction than Talf’s.  
        So we head out onta the kingsway, the prince was impatient to be gone before his brother caught up with him, but the speed availed us not for we weren’t two hours out when a band of kingsmen came upon us.