Returning from a long trek through the woods behind the hotel, Yuræl saw that there were now two men on the porch arguing over the results of a chess game.
"I tell you, THAT'S NOT A BLOODY LEGAL MOVE!" screamed an older man with a rotund belly
"Yes it is. You used it against me last week. It lost me two days of washing dishes too." A younger man with a peculiar hat calmly stated.
"I DON'T CARE! IT'S NOT A LEGAL MOVE!" the older man screamed.
"Then you owe me two days of washing dishes. What ho? It appears the children have brought our wanderer home." The younger man turned to look at them "Hello. My name is Belgær, and this fine example of proper manners is Mosræl."
"Welcome" Huffs Mosræl, then turning to Belgær he roared "I DON'T CARE ABOUT WASHING DISHES! THAT IS NOT A LEGAL MOVE!"
Drying her hands on a towel as she came to see what the commotion was about Dyrim harshly reprimanded Mosræl. "Now, now! That is no way to behave in front of the children! Show some common sense!"
"Awww… That's no fun." Chorused the children.
'And YOU!" cried Mosræl "Keeping a sick man out until all hours! You have no idea how much I worried!"
"It was fun, actually." Interrupted Yuræl " they showed me all sorts of unusual places."
"No more of that now! Inside all of you! Supper's on the table. And wash your hands before you eat!" bossed Mosræl
"Yess'm" Muttered everyone as they trudged inside.
The days passed quickly and soon Yuræl found that it was time to leave and continue on his journeys. As he got ready to leave he sought each of his six hosts and gave them his personal thanks. In return he received a single item from each of them. Kibeth and Ranna each gave him a ring set with an opalescent stone, blue from Kibeth and red from Ranna. Astaræl gave him a tiny silver bell with a sorrowful tone. Dyrim gave him a sturdy cook pot and a well used mess kit. Mosræl gave him a jewel-encrusted sword and scabbard. Belgær gave him, interestingly enough, a fine wooden chess set. Finally thanking each of his hosts again he set out along the road with no destination in mind.
Days have passed, perhaps weeks, Yuræl lost count of the days as he walked across the fields of forever. After he had used the last of his supplies he came across an old man. the old man sat next to a fire where a large pot simmered.
"Come to my fire stranger, the stew is hot and your stomach no doubt empty." croaked the old man
" I thank you for your hospitality. but I fear that I have no guest gift to offer in return." Yuræl responded.
"but you are not my guest. I am yours and as such I offer you this guest gift."
The old man offered Yuræl a ring set with a green shimmering stone that was the match of the rings given him by Ranna and Kibeth.
"I do not understand. I am a traveler. I am no host nor do I warrant a guest gift."
"The greatest of kings shall appear on the eve of the victory of the dark. Gathering the wise one, the strong one and the cunning one he shall overturn the dark masters and bring hope back to the people."
"What do you mean?" Yuræl asked with a confused look on his face.
"It is the prophecy that the seven handed down to the people of this land in the beging of the world. The time has come that the prophecy is to be fulfilled. Find the fourth ring and you shall never be out of communication with your friends. Fare thee well Yuræl."
With that the strange old man disinegrated into a shimmering vortex of golden lights.
*sigh* sorry for being so long in writing more.... mores comming i've got to write it first.