Zar submits to a golden cock and gains the Dawn Blade.
*
Zar surveyed the ancient ruin, searching the dark shadows between the broken walls. Legend had it that Tanarwel was built by giants, such was the size of the masonry. The huge blocks of marble, made white by the passage of time and green by the forest's encroachment, had earned a reputation for being haunted, perhaps because of the doleful sighs and moans of the drifting wind through the long forgotten hallways.
Or perhaps because of the darkness that dwelled there, an ancient magic buried beneath the rocks. Zar could taste bitterness in the air, and its aura was indigo blue, restless and hateful. She shivered, as much from the cold as fear. There were worse places to spend the night, but not many, and this was where she needed to be.
"You must go to Tanarwel," the old seer had said. "There, in the Crypt of Dar-Gratt, King of the Atteyni, you will find the Dawn Blade." She'd said more, but without the Dawn Blade her journey would be finished. Finding the sword was everything.
The Crypt of Dar-Gratt had brought many adventurers to Tanarwel, and no doubt more than were told of. The lure of treasure. The ruins were littered with the remains of encampments, and the scars of excavation. A fire burned too, hidden from her sight but betrayed by a wisp of smoke. "Hello?" she called. "I'm alone. Unarmed." Which wasn't strictly true, but a knife had purpose beyond killing.
For a long while, nothing. Then a figure emerged from behind a wall, a man, unkempt and unshaven, taller than Zar but clearly untrained. Not unhandsome, she supposed, though she tended to view all men - especially pale-skinned northerners - with suspicion. "Are ye here for the treasure?" he growled, though by the way his blue eyes surveyed her it was clear he had a different treasure on his mind.
"I seek the Crypt," she said carefully, "but not the treasure. Perhaps we could search together - if we survive the night. Is this your first?"
He ignored her query. "You say you're alone?"
"I'm alone, and I've walked all day. I've food to share and would be grateful for company."
"Aye, company would be nice. Come by the fire then, and you can tell me why a lass as pretty as you is here in this accursed place."
Zar followed him to his shelter, a ramshackle affair built of branches and detritus nestled into a corner of what once had been mighty palace walls. Space was tight within, but surprisingly dry and warm. Her spirits lifted immediately and she laughed in recognition. "You're a wizard!"
He blinked at her, startled. "What gave you that idea?"
"The indigo stops at the threshold."
He relaxed and smiled. "You're a sensitive."
"And you've been here a while. Alone, by the look."
"Just the shades for company - and now you. Have you a name, fair maid?"
"Zar."
He nodded. "Welcome to my abode, Zar. I am Katarra. Sit, and tell me of your quest, if it is not for treasure."
Katarra poured them both bowls of a thick, steaming broth from the pot over the fire. Zar could taste rabbit mixed in with a variety of root vegetables. "Fantastic," she murmured, sipping the hot elixir. "I can feel life breathing into my bones again."
The wizard chuckled. "An unfortunate choice of words in this place. Come midnight, you will be wishing the life from bones."
"So it's true."
He shrugged. "Stay the night here with me, and tomorrow you will wonder whether it's all a fairytale. But if it's the Crypt you seek..." He grinned at her slyly. "Well, you'll have your fill of bones."
Zar's eyes narrowed. "You know where it is."
"Finding it is easy. Escaping is the hard part."
"Will you show me?"