Mauklo is a very tricky character in the world of Maldene, figuring out exactly which side he’s really on being the big game of the day.  So for today’s Snippet I thought I’d show a little of the group’s first meeting with Mauklo.  Then see if you can figure out who’s side he’s on.

As they rounded a twist in the road, they came upon a small campsite. There was a small bedroll to one side and a small pot on a campfire. Stirring the pot was a man in dark robes, breathing in the fumes that issued forth. At the sound of Filmar’s approach, he suddenly turned around.

“Who are you?” Filmar asked of him.

The man had the intense yellow skin of those from the area of Lamika, with deep black hair, and black eyes that could hide both cunning and innocence. He was but a few inches shorter than the seven-foot frame of Filmar, but not nearly as massive as the large youth.

“Why, what are you doing here, if I may ask,” was the reply. “After all, this is my campsite.”

Though spoken in flawless Selgish, the voice had carried with it just a trace of an accent. The almost singsong accent of Sileesh, thought Sabu, though only a careful ear could discern it.

“He’s got you there,” Lindel smiled.

Eldar stepped up in front of Filmar as he spoke, “Now, Filmar, we are his guests. Let’s be polite. My name’s Eldar.”

“I don’t trust him,” Filmar responded glumly.

“Since when does trust have anything to do with civility, my young lad?” the stranger smiled amiably.

“What brings you here?” Starke put in.

“Stew smell funny.” Blag-ak said as he pointed towards the pot.

“Bokchu!” Tinweril exclaimed. “That stuff smells awful.”

The yellow-skinned one gave a warming friendly smile as he covered his small pot and strolled over to his bedroll as he spoke.

“My name, if it pleases you, is Mauklo. I am but a humble wizard offering my services wherever my travels happen to take me.”

“And today, they just happen to take you here,” Filmar said, disapproving frown on his face.

“Not entirely by chance, this time, did I happen upon these rather bleak woods and yourselves. For you see, this isn’t any stew, my rather large friend,” the stranger looked at Blag-ak as he went on, “it’s a special brew of rare and hard to gather ingredients that I make to see visions in. I dare say that if you tried to drink it that you’d be quite sick for a while. Nevertheless, it was my visions that led me here.”

“I don’t need a smelly old pot for my visions,” Sindar put in simply.

Eldar hid a smirk at Sindar’s reply

“And to what purpose do these visions bring you here,” Filmar asked, suspicion drawn upon his face.

“Why, for pretty much the same reason as you yourselves are here for, of course,” he said, looking towards Eldar as he said this.

“And just what reason might that be?” Sabu asked.

Mauklo looked around, as if seeking listening ears in the trees, his foot casually shuffling some leaves as he finally turned around to speak.

“I don’t think that you would want me to mention that around in the open, now do you?”

As the others talked, only Kor-Lebear’s keen eyes had glimpsed the well-hidden tender flesh of a child’s bare foot, dried blood caked to the large toe, which Mauklo had been discretely covering with leaves as he’d shuffled. Only the barest of smiles on Kor-Lebear’s lips gave any clue to that which he’d spotted. He said nothing, but inwardly grinned at Mauklo’s choice of ingredients for his brew.

Mauklo picked up his bedroll as he approached Sabu. He held close to him as he whispered in his ear.

“Now, we both know that you haven’t told most of them the real reason for your being here. I sure don’t want to spill anything by answering your question in front of them; what about you?  And we do have limited time, now don’t we?”

Sabu, Eldar, and Sindar went aside to confer.

“The gypsy made no mention about a fourth one of us,” Sabu whispered.

“Prophecies and Fates can often be rather indefinite about such things,” was Sindar’s reply.

“I say we need all the help that we can get,” Eldar said, “and if he’s with us then we can keep a better eye on him just in case.”

Sabu looked over at the smiling figure.

“I don’t know. I’ve never met a Sileen before, I don’t know what they’re like.”

“Hey, Sileen or Katoan, all you Humans are always pretty much the same,” Eldar smiled as he slapped Sabu lightly on the back.

“That worries me,” Sindar frowned.

Sabu thought a bit, and then broke away to rejoin Mauklo.

“Okay, you can come with us,” Sabu said. “We could use all the help that we can get.”

“Ah, thank-you much!  I shall endeavor to prove my usefulness,” Mauklo smiled broadly as he clasped Sabu with a forearm handshake. “I pack immediately.”

As he said that, he casually pointed a finger at the bubbling pot. A quick flash and it vanished, the hot coals now but cold smoldering stones, bedroll now also vanished. At the same moment, a small four inch long box appeared in Mauklo’s outstretched hand.

“There, I’m packed and ready to leave.”

“Well, he’s got at least a little useful talent,” Candol commented as they started to continue on down the road.

“Parlor tricks,” Sindar muttered, half to himself.

“Have you ever noticed,” Kor-Lebear said quietly to Kilinir, “how much one man can seem to say while actually saying nothing?  He’s got style; I think that I’m going to like this guy.”