Chapter Three - Part 4 - The Ruins of Dal Nystiere

As they approached the ruins of Dal Nystiere, the ancient, crumbling road passed by an old circle of standing stones. Webs clung to the branches of the nearby trees and a ramshackle covered wagon was parked on the trail near the standing stones.

While they walked, XIII said to Lirael, "I couldn't help but notice a strange discomfort you seemed to have amongst the elves, Lirael."

"Yes, well...I'd rather not talk about it now...later perhaps," Lirael answered him mysteriously. Just then Lirael abruptly halted and stopped the others from walking. "Wait!" He said in a hushed voice, "Look there."

He pointed up in one of the trees ahead where a few gigantic, hairy arachnid legs were visable. XIII immediately tensed up and gave a vicious hiss in the creature's direction. He clearly had a distaste for spiders.

"We can sneak up on it," Lirael said.

Rayne pointed out the wagon and decided he would go and check that out while they ambushed the Tree Spider. Upon looking inside he saw three sleeping Goblin Toadies. So he hastily pulled a torch from his bag and lit it before tossing it inside. The old, decrepit wagon almost immediately was immersed in flames, which woke the Goblin Toadies. But it was too late for them; they squealed in agony as they roasted to death.

XIII passionately summoned up the Flames of Phlegothos, engulfing the spider in Hellish fire. The spider fell from the tree, madly screeching and writhing in pain. Blisters and sores formed on its body, its hair completely singed off. Blood and puss oozed from its burns as it staggered to get up onto its gangly legs.  

Lirael gawked at the critical assault, "...You really hate spiders."

But before XIII had time to respond, Lirael ran forward, thrusting psionic energy into the mental pathways of a second spider that had begun to crawl its way down a tree not far from where they were. 

Rayne rushed away from the burning wagon and rammed himself into the smoldering arachnid with thunderous force, squashing it properly to death.

The other spider, perhaps out of revenge, leaped then from its tree at Lirael, biting him with its sharp pincers before it leaped back again out of harms way. XIII summoned yet another fiery attack, shooting a line of flame straight at the beast, causing it to also squeal in pain.

Lirael, unaffected by the safe distance that the spider took, forced his psychic assault on the spider, slamming it backwards onto its back. It writhed pitifully as it struggled to regain its bearings and stand. But Rayne ran up and yet again, slammed a finishing blow on the spider, giving off a horrible squishing, yet at the same time crunching, sound that marked the spider's unquestionable death.

XIII shivered disgustedly. He glanced at Lirael, not forgetting the conversation the spiders had so conveniently interrupted. He wondered what it was about the elves that made Lirael feel so uncomfortable.

"Let's get on with this then," Lirael said as he began walking towards the standing stones off to the side of the ruins. The others followed him to the pedestal in the center of the ring of stones, which seemed doubtful it how old and dusty it was.

But Rayne pulled out the vial of dragon's blood and opened it, giving it a curious sniff before he dripped some of the liquid onto the stone. Almost instantaneously as soon as the blood hit the stone, ancient Elven runes began to glow quite brightly on the stones surrounding them. 

Confidently, Rayne called out, "Dal Nystiere!" And the forest disappeared in a flash of blue light. The three found themselves standing upon a glowing magic circle inscribed on the floor of what appeared to be a wizard's laboratory or workshop. There were several large tables and desks littered with mildewed tomes, dusty bottles, and loose sheets of parchment. A wide staircase climbed about ten feet up to a stone loft, atop which rested a wooden desk and a chair made of lashed bones.

Near an iron-bound set of double doors stood two cages, each one holding a man-sized drake with crimson scales wearing a yoke. They snarled and bared their fangs, clearly ravenous. 

Several goblins were gathered in the room, and they stared at the random strangers with wide-eyed confusion. They glanced first at each other, then all of them looked up towards the one who appeared to be their leader, croaking something like, "Snilvor?" at him.

"Snilvor" spoke in a demanding voice to the goblin toadies scattered around the room from the stone staircase in the language of goblins, and suddenly the toadies turned on the three strangers and croaked out a hardly menacing battle roar.

Just then, Snilvor jumped off the staircase onto a small table just beside XIII. The small surface gave him enough height to be about as tall as XIII, whom he swung his skull-topped rod at. The skull merely made a humorous clunk sound as it collided with XIII's head. XIII merely laughed and in the blink of an eye, he whipped out his chain, ominously caked with dry blood in some places, and wrapped it around Snilvor's slimy green neck.

As he did so, one of the toadies ran over to the drake cages and set them free. Suddenly, the room erupted into chaos as the toadies all began attacking pathetically at once along with the bloodthirsty drakes. The drakes were the only ones that could really do any damage; they snapped at every nearest foe with their dagger-like teeth. 

Lirael feystepped to the staircase, from which he cast a dark and terrible thought into the nearest goblin toadie, whose eyes popped out of his head and he fell dead due to te shear mind-altering horror. It quickly spread like a mental plague from the first to the next, affecting even Snilvor and a nearby drake and finally obliterating another toadie's mind to death. 

Rayne attacked the drake that was targeting him, killing a few toadies on the side, as he swung his blade wildly with the strength of the earth which now surrounded him on all sides as they fought in the hidden underground study.

Meanwhile, Snilvor was still struggling against his bonds, but XIII relentlessly held him up by the chain around his neck. Between that and the ravening thought plaguing his mind, it seemed all the vessels in his head burst and blood began to spew from random wounds in his head. Suddenly, one of the drakes caught a whiff of the scent of blood and charged over immediately to gorge on whatever it was that was emitting it. XIII never relinquished his hold on the goblin, even as the drake viciously devoured him.

But eventually he gave in with a tender heart and laid the carcass down on the floor for the drake to feast upon while he went to help the others in finishing off the last of the goblins. His cheshire eye bite bit the life out of the nearest toadie and he grinned with satisfaction. 

Finally, they focused on the mad starving drake, which attacked them relentlessly, biting whoever it could get near. Lirael ran and took a flip off the the side of the staircase while simultaneously pulling out his sickle and slashing at the throat of the last goblin toadie remaining, who fell to the floor lifelessly. He then forced his way into the drake's simple mind and ripped out all images of himself, causing the drake to stagger in mental pain.

The others continued their assault on the drake with little luck as the drake was absolutely berserk. Lirael tore yet another memory hole in the drake's mind, leaving Rayne with an opportunity to strike with the strength of stone. As it recovered slightly from the blow, the drake charged at XIII who had been attempting to move to a more safe position. But in the nick of time, Rayne leaped into the air, slamming his blade down with full force, severing the drake's head from its body before it was able to reach XIII.

They looked around the room at the bloodshed. The other drake was lying peacefully beside the carcass of the goblin emissary, which was now little more than bone. XIII walked up to it and knelt by its side, patting its head lightly. The drake opened its eyes, calm and pleased by its full stomach, and gave XIII a grateful lick, its jaws still dripping with blood and guts.

I won't make the same mistake again, XIII thought, remembering his fallen love.

"I shall call you Grognarc," He informed the drake, "And I will take care of you from now on."

Chapter Three - Part 3 - The Woodsinger Elves

It was warm, almost stifling, under the canopy of the forest, and not a breath of wind stirred. As the party of three paused to gain their bearings, peering into the forest gloom, they heard a voice.

“Hold there, strangers! We would speak with you.” A moment later, an elf dressed in a short tunic of brown and green stepped into the open and advanced towards them, a bow in his hand. “I am Israfen of the Woodsingers,” He said, “I see that you are not Harkenwolders, and you do not look like the mercenaries of Iron Keep. Who are you and what is your business in the Harken Forest?”

The adventurers explained themselves to Israfen who replied, “This is a matter for Eriyel. Come, follow me.” Just then, two more elves stepped out of the shadow of the trees to join him and the three hunters led the party to a small elven encampment in a clearing by a forest stream.

Israfen led them through the crowd of suspicious elves to an elf woman of middle years with dark eyes and long green-gold hair.

“This is Eriyel, chief of the Woodsinger clans,” Israfen introduced them to the woman, “Eriyel, these strangers have important business they wish to discuss with you.”

“Greetings, strangers,” Eriyel spoke softly and slowly, “I sense that you bear a great request.”

XIII remained silent, as did Lirael, who shifted uncomfortably, surrounded by the elves. Rayne bowed slightly in respect, “We bear no ill will, Eriyel,” He said, “My name is Rayne, and this is Lirael and XIII. We wish to help the Harkenwolders in their fight against the Iron Circle—”

“I see, but that has nothing to do with us peaceful Woodsingers. What is it you wish of my people?” Her voice was not unkind, merely concerned.

“You see, the Iron Circle is a plague upon these lands. The Harkenwolders cannot face them alone,” Rayne began to explain.

Eriyel lowered her eyes slightly, “I grieve for the evil that has covered the land of Harkenwold, but it is not our fight.”

“Your elven camp here won’t be safe from the Iron Circle forever,” Rayne said.

Lirael stepped in, “It is true. They plan to conquer all of the Vale. They will come to you.”

“If you ignore the threat, you are fools,” XIII said grimly.

Eriyel paused to collect her thoughts before she spoke, “There could be truth in what you say. Evil left unchecked cannot help but spread. Still, I deem it better to wait and watch for now. Given time, this Iron Circle may simply move on. It is too early to say.”

“The Harkenwolders are preparing for battle,” Rayne said desperately, “The Iron Circle has already been provoked. Bloodshed looms on the horizon! How can we convince you to help? There is no way the people of Harkenwold can stand up to this threat alone.”

“You ask us to risk our lives for you. If you were to do the same for us, we would be obligated to match your selflessness. There is a sanctuary hidden beneath a ring of standing stones, near the ruins of Dal Nystiere, an old eladrin village a few miles from here. An evil presence there poisons the surrounding forest. Put an end to this threat and we will aid you.”

XIII rolled his eyes, “Will the chores never end?”

“An eladrin village…Lirael does this peak your interest at all?” Rayne asked.

Lirael folded his arms, “No, not really…Look, Eriyel. It is no use evading the task at hand. The Iron Circle is planning to stomp out the Woodsinger clan before they can cause any trouble. If you do not take this opportunity to fight alongside the Harkenwolders, you are all doomed, Woodsingers and Harkenwolders alike.”

“I am not that easily fooled, eladrin,” Eriyel said with a half-smirk, “We are elves, not dwarves. We can see what is plainly in front of our face and we can smell danger in our forest before danger even knows it is here. The Iron Circle is hardly even aware of us.”

XIII was becoming impatient, “You elves have a funny way of showing your care of the land. It seems questionable that you are interested the well-being of Harken Forest at all if you are not even willing to fight the Iron Circle to keep them away from this innocent place.”

Eriyel sighed sadly, “Forgive me, strangers. I wish to help you but my problem is that I have been preoccupied by this evil in the forest that hunts us unceasingly. I do not have the strength or numbers to send aid to Harkenwold while I am busy trying to protect my people from the evil in Dal Nystiere. To send my best bows out to Harkenwold to fight would mean the end of the Woodsingers right from within our own woods. Help us help you by ridding us of this evil presence and I swear we will fight for your Harkenwold.”

“Fine,” Rayne said, “What are we up against if we agree to face this ‘evil presence’ of yours?”

“An undead wizard named Yisarn lurks in the sanctuary. He has allied himself with the Daggerburg goblins, our hated enemies. Defeating him would be a great service to us. Wizards used to use the sanctuary as a private place to conduct magical research. It lies underground but you can teleport there by pouring dragon’s blood onto a pedestal located in the ring of standing stones.”

Lirael huffed a sarcastic laugh, “Dragon’s blood!”

Eriyel interjected before he could turn to leave, “I can provide you with a vial of green dragon’s blood, which we obtained at great cost. I will give it to you as a sign of our trust. There is only enough to activate the stone once. So you will have to be extremely cautious with it.”

“Hmm,” Lirael thought for a moment, “I suppose I am beginning to feel more confident about this. One little undead mage, how hard could it be? Alright, we will take care of your evil. When we return, you will march against the Iron Circle.”

After the arrangements were made, Israfen escorted them to the trail which would lead them to the ruins of Dal Nystiere and handed them the vial of dragon’s blood as he said his farewells to them.

“Listen, you need only mutter the name of the place you wish to go once the stones are activated. Good luck, strangers. I await your safe return, as do the rest of my clan.”

With that, the adventurers were on their way, into the depths of the forest.

Chapter Three - Part 2 - Hunted

In order to avoid Harken Village, the adventurers had to travel cross country using dirt trails and back roads on their way to the Woodsinger camp. As they left Albridge, the skies darkened considerably and rain clouds began to roll in. It was not long before the pouring began and the travellers were forced to endure the cold and wet.

They had been travelling for hours through the heavy rain and the muddy ground clung to their boots. The track they were following cut through and abandoned farmstead a few miles from the edge of the forest and through the fog and rain they spotted an Iron Circle woman holding a lantern from atop a large, red-scaled drake. The drake roared, and standing behind some nearby trees were three more brigands with crossbows.

“There they are!” shouted the woman on the drake. She was obviously their leader, dressed in a red surcoat.

The adventurers were taken by surprise but had been prepared for the Iron Circle to be on the lookout for them after they had attacked the caravan with the intent of angering the Iron Circle.

XIII jumped over the stone wall beside him where he saw a rabble of the Iron Circle waiting for him. He gave the peon a forceful kick, which knocked him backwards into the door of the small house he stood in front of and his head smashed through the small window of the door, tearing a deep gash in his head. He slumped to the ground, his eyes glazing over.

Meanwhile, the brigands waiting behind trees with their crossbows moved cautiously forward to closer trees while Lirael used his fey teleportation to the other side of the house where another minion was waiting beside the stone wall. Lirael grabbed him and pulled him over to smash his head through yet another window, which was not enough for Lirael, who then kicked him limp body into the tough cobblestone wall of the house beneath the window where he then fell lifelessly upon the shards of glass on the ground.

The woman steered her drake over towards the party of three and Rayne prepared himself to watch for either of their attacks before he mustered up the power of the Thunder Ram and slammed down upon the woman with his blade, knocking her off her mount and sending forth a shockwave that even the large drake was shaken by.

The brigands began closing in on them, taking shelter behind the trees and the house, as the Adept woman stood from where she fell off her drake and charged at Rayne, tearing a gash in his armor. XIII noticed Rayne was in trouble as the Adept struck him and another brigand shot a bolt into his leg from behind the house and, from afar, shot his cracking eldritch ribbons of energy at the woman, piercing her armor and drawing blood from the deep stabs in her chest.

Lirael, on the other side of the yard, tore his memory out of the mind of the brigand nearest to him and jumped over the dead body he had strewn on the ground into the window of the house while the brigand stumbled under the disorienting attack on his mind.

The drake charged at Rayne, who luckily ducked under it, causing the drake to slide in the mud, missing Rayne completely. The Adept was waiting for Rayne, however, and they exchanged a few clashes of steel. The Adept swung wildly, clutching her bleeding torso, her dagger wreathed in dark flames.

XIII ran around the corner of the house to get a good angle and summoned the hellish flames of Phlegethos, which sprang up as cascades of fire that engulfed the drake, who screeched terribly in the searing pain of the flames. Before the drake could recover, his scales smoldering, XIII transformed into a cloud of mist and disappeared into the relative safety of the house.

One of the brigands attempted to shoot XIII through a window but missed as another ran across the farmstead towards the small cabin across the trail from the house near Rayne’s standing point.

From inside the house, Lirael walked over to a window, where he could clearly see Rayne and the Adept woman fighting, and sent horrible visions of hellish tortures that contradicted the very essence of life itself into the mind of the Adept woman, which in turn seeped from her mind to the drake’s and they both squirmed under the torment of it.

In a rage, the drake attacked the first thing it could see, which was Rayne. He bit Rayne and the taste of the blood spilling from his arm invigorated him, shaking the ravening thought from his mind.

Rayne absorbed the strength of the earth beneath his feet into his arm and crashed down upon the Adept behind him with the strength of stone, crushing her to death and giving himself a surge of energy.

XIII ran out the front door of the house and sent a fierce line of black fire at the drake, who was still smoldering from the first fiery assault as a cascade of crossbow fires came at Rayne and XIII from all sides. XIII was able to dodge them, but Rayne, who was already severely battered, struggled to move effectively and was struck by another dart in his thigh.

Lirael tried forcing his mind upon the drake but the drake was too distracted by the fires that plagued him to notice Lirael’s mental attempts. The drake lunged itself at XIII but Rayne threw himself at the drake, lashing out with nature’s fury and sinking his blade deep into the neck of the drake.

The drake fell, its head hanging pathetically from its mangled neck, at XIII’s feet and gazed despairingly into his eyes. Suddenly, XIII was overcome with sympathy for the drake and for some reason was regretting ever fighting with it. He found himself longing to be the drake’s companion, caring for it and being cared for by it. It was as if the only thing he had ever loved had died. XIII never realized the potential for the emotional bond because he had been too busy trying to slay the creature before he had ever given himself the chance to try and understand it or feel for it. XIII was filled with remorse and a plethora of mixed feelings about his outlook on life.

Before the feelings could control him any longer, he ran around, becoming submerged in shadow, while drawing out his razor sharp claws and then dug them into the first brigand he came in contact with.

From just outside a window, another brigand shot Lirael in the hip. So Lirael, quietly enraged, grasped the wound and looked up at the brigand. He put his arms up, and with a pathetic plea, he said to the brigand, “I surrender, foe. Please, come and take me. Just don’t hurt me anymore!”

The brigand gave a grunt of a laugh and lowered his crossbow as he stepped in through the window. Just then, Lirael sent a force of psionic energy into the brigand, heaving him into the burning fireplace nearby. The brigand screamed in pain as he scrambled to get out of the fireplace. But Lirael thrust into his mind with his terrible imagery, knocking the brigand backwards into the back wall of the fireplace where he slumped to his fiery death.

Rayne and XIII outside were dealing with the second brigand. Together they took him down easily. But where was the third? XIII walked into the small nearby cabin and out the back door, where he found the last brigand cowering shamefully. Purely for the amusement of it, XIII took on a dark persona and began shouting in Abyssal while flailing his tongue at the terrified soldier, who ran futilely towards the other house. As he stood, backed into a corner at the front of the house, Lirael leaped out of the window beside him and sent threatening, serpentine words of Infernal into his mind, further terrifying him by pulling out his sickle with a menacing grin.

Rayne then ran up and transformed into a large willow tree, entangling the brigand in his roots and branches. With a maniacal grin on his face, XIII ran up to the group and pounced on the brigand, digging his claws deep into his chest, then tearing open his ribcage. He wrenched out the poor mans lungs, shoving one in his own mouth and the other in the brigand’s mouth. Rayne’s form shrunk back to his normal humanoid shape, allowing the brigand’s disfigured body to fall lifelessly to the ground. Frustrated that he never got to use his weapon, Lirael slashed at the brigand’s neck before walking away.

The rain was still coming down fairly hard, and the blood of all of the fallen adversaries mingled with the water and mud, staining the entire farmstead in red.

XIII walked solemnly back over towards the drake and cut the ruby from his collar as a token to remember him by while Rayne and Lirael scavenged the area for supplies and goods. He stood and went to find Lirael in the cabin.

“We should remember this place,” He said to Lirael, “It is a good place to rest and it looks as if no one but Iron Circle numphwits have used this place in years.”

Lirael smiled, “Yes, exactly. And wouldn’t it be easy to mug any passersby for their riches if we were to hide out here…?” He speculated out loud, “But, anyways…I’m going to get my rest now. You should do the same.”

With that, XIII jumped out the window, ignoring the door completely, and went to curl up beside the fallen drake in the now drizzling rain.

In the morning, the three decided to head out to the elven camp immediately. Before they left, XIII took a few minutes to say his last goodbyes to the drake. Then he was struck with a compulsion to take a piece of the drake along.

If I cannot have your heart in life, he thought, I shall at least have it in death…

And thus he carved out the drake’s cold, still heart then packed it away in his bag before following after Lirael and Rayne.


[I just want you to know that Michael was playing Shadow of the Colossus while I wrote the part about XIII and the drake so I had this song to write to....

I think I was close to tears.]

Chapter Three - Part 1 - A New Errand

After running his errand, XIII returned to the Inn as the setting sun finally began to sink out of sight beyond the horizon. Trying to be frugal, XIII decided yet again not to spend his money on a room at the Inn. Instead, he climbed up the side of the building to sleep on the cozy straw roof beneath the glistening starry sky. Upon waking in the morning, he forgot that he had been sleeping on a roof and stumbled over the edge. Luckily, he managed a somersault as he hit the ground and avoided severely injuring himself.

He looked around, wondering whether or not anyone had witnessed and/or noticed enough to admire the stunt he had just pulled off. Realizing that it was too early in the morning for anyone to be walking around, he then went inside and met up with Lirael and Rayne. As soon as they all were prepared, they left for Gremath Stables.

Dar Gremath welcomed them inside when they arrived and Rayne greeted him first, “Good morning, Dar Gremath,” He began, “It is done. We have ambushed the caravan you spoke of and made mince meat of the reavers we found there.”

“Excellent!” Dar Gremath grinned, “That should piss Redthorn off. Now he’ll see that he actually has a problem on his hands. My runners have been doing there jobs spreading rumors that should get Redthorn angry enough to march on us. Only thing we need now is numbers. I could really use you guys  to—”

Lirael interrupted, “Sir, you are pushing a whole lot of authority on us. We have already finished one of your little errands and already you are giving us new orders.”

“Lirael, show some respect,” Rayne hissed at him.

“No, that’s all right, Rayne,” Dar Gremath said in a serious tone, “I apologize, you three. I don’t have much to work with here. I’m just used to giving orders and having people listen to me blindly. Everyone around these parts know their too incompetent to organize a rebellion.”

“Fine,” Lirael calmed down, “I suppose I better understand your situation.”

“How about the bullywugs near Tor’s Hold?” Rayne asked Dar Gremath, “Reithann said that if we took care of the bullywug problem it would free up a bunch of stout fighters.”

“Aye,” Nodded Dar Gremath, “But I may also suggest travelling to the Woodsinger camp in Harken Forest. I bet you could convince the Woodsinger elves to join our forces, which would be a huge boost to our troops. In fact, I know you could do it. I see a lot of promise in you fellows.”

“We will go to the elves…” Lirael said, “The travel time is much shorter.”

All of the sudden, without any sort of notice, XIII backflipped out the door and out of sight. Dar Gremath sat unflinchingly in his seat, staring after him, eyebrow raised, but of course he did nothing about what he had just seen. Lirael, who had come to expect this type of behavior from XIII, followed after him while Rayne shook his head and said his goodbyes before he, too, walked out the door after his two companions.

Grognarc

Character Name: Grognarc (Groggy)
Gender: Male
Race: Bloodseeker Drake
Height: 3' 7"
Length: 5' 1" (8' 4" with full length of tail)
Weight: 468 lbs
Alignment: Hungry
Personality: Grognarc is easily distracted when he is hungry. He has a tendency to attack his allies when he is starving, especially if they smell tasty. But Groggy has a fondness for XIII, who he can tell has a tender heart for him. He is cute, cuddly, and lovable. His Intelligence score of 2 has earned him the nickname Groggy.
History: Grognarc is the party's new pet Bloodseeker Drake. XIII befriended him in the pre-battle before encountering Yisarn the Undead Mage. Prior to his domestication, Grognarc was a poorly treated slave-drake of the Goblin Toadies that Yisarn was using to his advantage.

Chapter Two - Part 4 - Waylaying the Caravan

Once the trio reunited at the Mallard Inn and took the night to rest, they gathered in the tavern to decide what to do with the new tasks they had been given.

"What information did the Druid present?" Rayne asked Lirael and XIII.

"She told us that there are potential reinforcements at Tor's Hold, but we would have to take some bullywugs off their hands. Sounds like a big project to me," Lirael replied, unenthusiastically.

"I see," Said Rayne, "Well, Dar Gremath told me about a supply caravan heading out from here today. We could attack it to anger the Iron Circle, which would help Dar Gremath to lure their leader out of his little castle."

XIII grinned, "That sounds like a fun alternative with instant gratification."

"And there is probably some treasure to loot on said caravan," Lirael added. "Let's just attack the caravan and then we could see if Dar Gremath needs the Tor's Hold reinforcements."

They all agreed that this was a decent option and so they headed out immediately to prepare themselves for an ambush. On the outskirts of town they each hid on the side of the road where they knew the caravan would be pulling through. Shortly thereafter, a large wagon pulled by a big cart horse creaked along the dusty road. Sure enough, it was driven by Iron Circle soldiers, two of them in the familiar black cloaks, and one in chain mail with a dark hood over his head. Unlike the soldiers, he wore a red surcoat and his embroidered Iron Circle design was black trimmed in gold.

Before they lost their chance, Lirael and Rayne jumped out from their hiding spots and ran after the caravan. One of the brigands turned around in his seat and shouted, "Hey! Who's there?!"

Rayne leaped into the air, jumping onto the roof of the wagon and swinging wildly at the soldiers just below. But they dodged his blow, one of them pulling out his crossbow and shooting towards him. Luckily, the top of the wagon caught the bolt before it struck Rayne.

Meanwhile, XIII popped out of a bush as the wagon pulled to an abrupt halt next to it, summoning black flames which crashed into a startled brigand's shield. Lirael attempted to corrupt their minds, but their minds were in chaos already, with the sudden and quite unexpected ambush.

Suddenly, the Dark Adept stood from his seat on the wagon and shot long tendrils wreathed in flame at XIII, who ducked at the last second to avoid their fiery bite.

With crossbows firing at him, Rayne's skin started to become thick and bark-like as his limbs began to turn into branches and roots, planting him to the top of the wagon and entangling the soldiers in both roots and shock. The first brigand pulled out his scimitar and swung at Rayne, who took the blow unflinchingly.

XIII transformed into a cloud of mist and drifted silently over to the opposite side of the wagon where he could safely project his vampiric shadow on the all too proud Adept, which clutched him and sucked a great chunk of his vital energy out, bringing it back to XIII.

Lirael took a brief second to focus his mind and use it to send a forceful thrust of imagery to the Adept as well, which sent him flying backwards off of the wagon, clawing at his head for an escape from the mental assault before he gave in to the dark call of death.

Turning his crossbow on XIII, the second brigand was unpleasantly surprised as Rayne lashed out with one of his powerful branches, tearing a deep gash in his torso before he even had the chance to shoot. Then, with another branch, Rayne summoned the energy of the earth to slam down on the brigand from above, crumpling his helmet with the stony branch right into his skull.

Shaking with the fear of witnessing his two comrades' deaths, the first brigand shoots a crossbow bolt towards Rayne but it whizzed through his branches into the air, missing. So he turned around to cut the reigns of the horse and jumped madly from the wagon, but the horse bolted so fast out of the horrific scene that the brigand fell to the ground, afraid and all alone.

XIII mercilessly placed a dark curse on him before sending ribbons of eldritch energy, crackling with black lightning, towards him. At first, the brigand rolled out of the way, causing the ribbons to pierce ineffectively into the ground. But XIII pulled them back and sent them flying right at the brigand once more, this time forcing them right into the soldier's chest.

As he clutched at the dark wounds, the brigand was assaulted by Lirael's psionic energy. It was too much for the reaver to withstand, and he fell to the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head, to writhe in mental anguish for a few short seconds before he lost the will to live on.

Rayne's branches and roots collapsed back into limbs and he jumped off the wagon as Lirael darted to it to scavenge for treasure. They divvied up the findings, pleased to enjoy a few well-earned comforts for their effort and gathered to decide what came next.

"I suppose we should just head back into town before someone notices us here," Rayne said, and the others agreed.

"Ah, those poor soldiers," Lirael said sarcastically, "You have to wonder if they have a God they will beg for mercy on their way down to where ever it is they will end up going....Oh, but...Do either of you worship the Gods?"

Rayne raised his hand to admit that he did, "Yes, I favor Melora. I can relate easily to her. She understands that one must live in harmony with the wild, something my blood calls for me to do."

"Interesting," Said Lirael to himself, "I can't say I follow any particular deity. I suppose I relate most to Corellon most, though. He understands beauty as it should be and I admire that. What about you, XIII?"

XIII shrugged, "I care not for the Gods. Useless things, sitting up on their thrones just enjoying their pampered lives..."

Lirael laughed and then said with a smile, "Ha! Yes, I guess that's one way of looking at it."

Back in town, XIII decided to split up from the group to go and run a "personal errand." He went to visit the house upon whose doorstep he left a decaying offering of flesh and bone. Curiously, the house was dark and appeared to be abandoned. The head was still lying on the doorstep. However, upon closer examination, XIII noticed that the pearl was missing from the eye socket...

World Map W.I.P.

I have been working on the world map. It's not done yet, but here's what I've got so far.

 So here is a brief explanation of the continents. Prastuil is dwarf land. It is mostly mountains. Buldar is where orcs and giants live. Clearly there isn't that many of them. But they really don't get along with the dwarves. 

The next continent over is like America, it's a melting pot. Damara is arid and harsh land. There are mostly scattered tribes of humans. The Iron Circle originated in Damara, with big dreams of conquering the entire continent.

Elkazar is a country that likes to focus on technology. But there is no futuristic stuff in my world, so think steampunk. Mostly humans live here as well. They typically frown upon the use of magic in Elkazar, believing that science is the only natural way. Erathis is revered in Elkazar.

Algarond is just your average medieval country. They focus on agriculture, but there are several big cities in Algarond. Algarond is an ancient land, with ancient ruins everywhere. Magic is used heavily in Algarond, as many believe that magic was found by the humans in this area. Half-elves are prevalent in Algarond, along with humans and a lot of Daemons, shifters, and half-orcs mixed in here and there. This is the most diverse country due to the fact that both magic and science are popular here.

The Nentir Vale is a quiet isolated country which consists of mostly scattered farms as well. There are a lot of dwarves and halflings in this country.

Harrowdale is also another quiet isolated country which focuses on agriculture. Harrowdale is a very religious region, though. Temples are found every few miles and monasteries are very common. Again, humans are most common in this area, but there is a little bit of everything.

The Lundeth Peninsula is a fishing country, mainly. Water trades are the specialty here. There are a few dense cities but other than that, this country is not heavily populated. It likes to keep a "mind-your-own-business" mentality so citizens like to keep to themselves, communicating with the outside world only for the purpose of trade.

Zetriel is a heavily magic using country. Magic and the arts are worshiped here, so Corellon is quite popular. There aren't many huge cities. The population tends to focus around the vast amounts of arcane libraries and schools to be found here. 

The Silver Marshes are mostly inhospitable lands. The continent is kind of like one huge glacier. The ice shifts constantly and water moves in and out everywhere. It is unpredictable terrain where the frigid temperatures are deadly. The does however make is a great place to search for rifts into the Elemental Chaos. Commoners fear this continent, but it has proven to be quite useful to some of the more adventurous adventurers. There are, however, a very few scattered tribes of nomads who have come to be quite attached to the land and are experts in the ways of navigating and foraging for food and supplies here.

The Nelanthyr Isles are very mountainous and ancient. It is said that the most terrible and the most magnificent of beasts reside upon the Isles. There are few people that live here, but some say there are great masters who live as hermits among the mountain tops. 

Tobeymoor is the quaintest of the Halfling communities. The Halflings keep to themselves here where they are, for the most part, un-bothered by the outside world. The elves that are their neighbors do not bother them, and rarely do travelers venture so far as to go here.

Velenril is the Elven country of wood elves and elven nobles. This is an ancient land, set in their ways of tradition and elven culture. Generally, outsiders are not welcome. But of course, you would find the foreign race of people here and there in some of the communities and tribes. There is only one great city in Velenril, but that is not to say that the small villages of elves peppered throughout the densely forested land are not just as ornately beautiful and ancient.

Iriaebor is a land that the Elves of Velenril almost detest. It is the country where elves have turned to the civilized and technological ways of the humans in the continent across the Orofin Ocean. There are many cities struggling to rise up in the bustling world of trade and industrialization. There are many ghettos to be found here where half-elves are forced to live in. Racism against half-elves in this elvish society is common. They are looked down upon as the results of elvish lust for human whores, which they find to be quite degrading to their race. This racism is typically exclusive to Iriaebor, though. Shifters have made a few small societies for themselves on the border of this country, as they are not usually welcome in Velenril, but they prefer the forest that Iriaebor is continuously disregarding.

Bael Turath is the small country of the Daemons. It was once a place of grand palaces and gothic cities, but as of late, it has mostly fallen to ruin. Most of the noble families of Daemons have been corrupted and cooperation among families is rare to find. So most of the land is desolate, though full of history. Lately, Daemons have been venturing out into the world in search of something better.

Arkhosia is the tiny country where Dragonborn reside. They are very set in their culture and thus do not like to venture out of their small continent very often. Not much is known about Arkhosia by commoners, if commoners know about Arkhosia at all. 

Tiber is a densely forested continent that is winter all year round. It is most hospitable that the Silver Marshes, at least. But not many people live here because the forest is so difficult to navigate. There are a few small tribes, some nomadic. But other than that, travelers and citizens are rare here.

Winterhaven

Another city of the Nentir Vale. Again, I will add more info to this post if it ever becomes relevant to the story.

Population: 977

Leadership: Ernest Padraig, the Lord of Winterhaven

Demographics: The population of Winterhaven is predominantly human, with a scattering of dwarf families, and a handful of individuals of other common races, including a couple of elves.

Most residents of Winterhaven have never traveled beyond the village vale. The majority of villagers are farmers, though the walled heart of Winterhaven employs various craftspeople as well. Wagons occasionally head east down old King’s Road from Winterhaven to find trade with the next village, which lies five days away. Sometimes wagons come into Winterhaven, causing the villagers to excitedly gather in the Market Square to hear news of the outside world and to buy new and exotic goods.

Key:

1. Outer Gate and Walls

2. Wrafton’s Inn

3. Market Square

4. Stables

5. Smithy

6. Valthrun’s Tower

7. Bairwin’s Grand Shoppe

8. Warrior Guild

9. Tenements

10. Temple

11. Inner Gate

12. Winterhaven Siege Supplies

13. Winterhaven Barracks

14. Manor House

Fallcrest

This is the main city, pretty much, in the Nentir Vale. I will edit this post later with details about the numbered areas of the map if the area ever becomes significant to your campaign. But here is the map.

A small town built from the ruins of a larger city, Fallcrest is the crossroads of the Nentir Vale.
Population: 1,350; another 900 or so live in the countryside within a few miles of the town. The people of Fallcrest are mostly humans, halflings, and dwarves. No dragonborn or eladrin are permanent residents, but travelers of all races pass through on occasion.
Government: The human noble Faren Markelhay is the Lord Warden (hereditary lord) of the town. He is in charge of the town’s justice, defense, and laws. The Lord Warden appoints a town council to look after routine commerce and public projects.
Defense: The Fallcrest Guard numbers sixty warriors (see the accompanying statistics block), who also serve as constables. Moonstone Keep is their barracks. The Lord Warden can call up 350 militia at need.
Inns: Nentir Inn; Silver Unicorn. The Silver Unicorn is pricier and offers better service; the Nentir Inn sees a more interesting clientele.
Taverns: Blue Moon Alehouse; Lucky Gnome Taphouse; Nentir Inn taproom.
Supplies: Halfmoon Trading House; Sandercot Provisioners.
Temples: Temple of Erathis; Moonsong Temple (Sehanine); House of the Sun (Pelor).

Chapter Two - Part 3 - New Acquaintances

The adventurers finally reached the small village of Albridge and took the rest of the day to replenish their supplies and get some rest at the Mallard Inn. XIII also decided to run an errand of his own and provide the charitable service of donating his beloved severed head to an unsuspecting home of strangers. Under the cover of darkness, XIII sneaked up to a random doorstep on the edge of town and placed the rotting hunk of bone and flesh down, leaving the pearl that he had jammed into its eye socket long ago. Then he left, pleased with his good deed, and went to sleep the night away on his bedroll just outside the door of the Inn.

In the morning they gathered together. Rayne mumbled to XIII something to the extent of, "What if it had rained last night, XIII?" But XIII ignored him.

They discussed the options they had, which were to meet with Dar Gremath or to meet with Reithann, the druid. They decided to split up; Rayne would go to Gremath Stables and Lirael and XIII would go to Druid's Grove.

So Lirael and XIII set off on their short journey northwest to the Grove while Rayne merely walked down the road to knock on the door of Dar Gremath.

A burly man of about 55 opened the door. He had long graying hair and a rough look about him.

"Haven't seen you around before. Who are ya?" Dar Gremath demanded.

Rayne introduced himself, "Greetings, sir. I am simply an adventurer who has been pointed in this direction."

"Adventurer, huh? I've had an adventure or two myself, a long time ago...Name's Dar Gremath. Now who sent ya?"

"My two comrades and I rescued a woman by the name of Ilyana the other day from a group of these so-called Iron Circle men. She requested that we travel to Albridge and she said you would be the man to go to if we wanted to help Harkenwold solve their problem with these guys."

Dar Gremath gave a hearty, "Ha!" as he stepped aside to let Rayne in the building. "She was right! I'm the one pretty much pullin' the strings in this poor excuse of a rebellion. I'm glad to see someone with some fight in 'em for once. I'm assuming you got some fight in ya if you took on a group of them reavers."

"Well, yes, alongside my two associates," Rayne admitted.

"Well good, I'm glad you're here," He said as he motioned for Rayne to take a seat, which he did. Dar Gremath spoke fast and it was compelling to listen to him, "Now listen up, let's cut to the chase. If we're going to defeat the Iron Circle, we've got to draw Redthorn out of his keep. You know who Redthorn is, don'tcha? Their captain. We need to get him angry. There's a caravan heading out to Easthill tomorrow. You and your friends could ambush 'em. Or, hell, just go to any tavern in Harkenwold. You're sure to find some reavers you could pick a fight with. But I'm sure the caravan would be worth a shot. At least then you could rob 'em for a little extra kick."

Rayne took in all of the information Gremath just threw at him and nodded, "It sounds like a simple enough plan."

"You're darn right it does. Bait that bastard Redthorn out of his keep and beat him right out of the Vale in battle. All we need is a little help to give us the advantage we need. Redthorn's got about two hundred mercenaries. When I call for the rebels to gather, we'll have a little less than that. We can take 'em but it's gonna take some teamwork...But if at all possible, it would really do us a service if you would harass some of them goons out there."

"Yes, well, I will have to discuss this with my associates," Rayne informed him, "They are meeting with the Druid right now. Ilyana also told us to speak with her."

"I see," said Dar Gremath, looking contemplative, "Well, don't be strangers now. I will always be able to use your help around here til the Iron Circle is driven back to the south!"

Rayne nodded and said his farewells before walking out the door and heading back to the Inn to wait for Lirael and XIII to return.

As they traveled to Druid's Grove, Lirael and XIII made small talk to pass the time.

"So, XIII," Lirael began, "I have always wondered about the exotic wastelands of Bael Turath. Tell me, what was your home country like?"

XIII didn't have much to say about it, "It was nothing beautiful, mostly scattered towns, a desolate area."

"It is sad to me that a country that was once so grand has been degraded to the status of desolate..." Lirael lamented, "Does it not upset you also, XIII?"

"I couldn't say," He replied thoughtfully, "I suppose I didn't really live there for very long and when I did, I couldn't care for it."

"I see..." Lirael wondered at XIII's past. But he refrained from bringing it up as the Druid's mossy old cottage came into view.

They knocked on the door and an old woman of about 80 peeked out and greeted them, "You are strangers to Harkenwold. I knew I smelled change on the wind. I am Reithann, keeper of this grove. How may I assist you?"

Lirael spoke for the two of them, "Greetings, Druid. I am Lirael and this is my friend, XIII. We met a woman a few days ago who begged us to see you and discover if there was anything we could do to help in this struggle against the Iron Circle."

"Ahh, a wise suggestion, indeed," Reithann said with a smile, "Come in, dears, come in."

Reithann led them into her small abode where she offered them tea and sat them down for conversation, "Harkenwold cannot vanquish the Iron Circle if it is divided. We cannot unite as long as the hamlet of Tor's Hold is menaced by the Toadwallow monsters. You could help Tor's Hold by dealing with the menace, and you'll free up two score stout fighters that would aid the rebellion."

"Interesting..." Said Lirael, "This is an awfully large task you are appointing to us, madam..."

Suddenly XIII spoke up, "What kinds of Druid things can you teach us in exchange for us helping you with the Toadwallow monsters?"

Reithann gave a small laugh that almost chimed, "Druid things?"

"Yes, like powers and abilities that we may use in battle...against the Iron Circle," XIII elaborated.

With a sympathetic smile of sincerity, Reithann replied, "I am sorry, child, but unless you are willing to spend months or even years here with me, I don't think we would accomplish anything together. My two young apprentices here are still hardly able to make flowers grow and they have been studying under my wing for nearly a decade now. You do not appear to me to be the type who is in tune with the primal ways of nature. Indeed, I smell the arcane in you. It would take us a very long time to teach you how to get in touch with the dirt, the air, the plants, the trees. The cat sticks to the land, you see, and the fish to water. Sometimes, over-ambition can lead to your downfall, my dear."

XIII gave a disappointed "hmph," and stood from his seat, ready to take his leave.

"Well, thank you, Druid. We will consider your words carefully. But now we must bid you farewell."

She saw them out the door kindly and with that, they were on their way.

"These Harkenwold people seem pretty inactive..." XIII commented.

Lirael agreed, "Yes, they are all too quick to boss us around. Can they handle nothing themselves?"

The two of them continued on to Albridge as quickly as possible to get some rest and relay their new information to Rayne.

Woodsinger Alliance

MINOR QUEST - Woodsinger Alliance

Status - Completed

NPC - Dar Gremath

Description - The adventurers successfully angered the Iron Circle and things are going according to plan for the Rebellion. Dar Gremath informs the adventurers that reinforcements will be necessary if they are to succeed in the inevitable battle against the Iron Circle.


Objective - Travel to Woodsinger Camp in Harken Forest and ask the Woodsinger elves to join the Rebel Cause.

Defeat Undead Mage Yisarn to forge alliance with Woodsinger elves.

Reward for Completion - 150 XP and Reinforcements for the Rebel Cause

Bullywugs

MINOR QUEST - Bullywugs

Status - In Progress

NPC - Reithann

Description - The adventurers visit Reithann in Druid's Grove to ask if there is any way they can assist in the fight against the Iron Circle. Reithann explains that there are vicious bullywugs lairing in the Toadwallow Caverns that need to be dealt with.

Objective - Defeat the Bullywug Chieftain in Toadwallow Caverns

Reward for Completion - 125 XP and Reinforcements for the Rebel Cause

Making Enemies

MINOR QUEST - Making Enemies

Status - Complete

NPC - Dar Gremath

Description - The adventurers visit Dar Gremath to find out if they can assist in the fight against the Iron Circle. He explains that he believes direct action should be taken against the Iron Circle in order to lure Nazin Redthorn out of Iron Keep.

Objective - Rob the supply caravan heading out to Easthill

OR

Pick a fight with Iron Circle soldiers in any tavern in Harkenwold

Reward for Completion - 100 XP

A Heads Up

In loo of the upcoming end of our first adventure, I have been doing a lot of thinking about the way I am going to customize this game for our group. Playing these initial pre-made adventures has revealed a lot to me about the types of players I am working with and thus I think I have a pretty good idea of how I am going to run my adventures from here on.

Firstly: No more gay adventures. The adventures I conjure up will be much darker. Pre-made adventures tend to cater to good/lawful good campaigns. We are a Neutral/Evil campaign so I will address that.

Secondly: I will be formulating most of the adventures to have a "main-boss" if you will. In other words, at the end of most adventures there will be a single high level enemy that you will have to slay rather than a group of average level enemies or a moderately high enemy with a bunch of peons.

Thirdly: I enjoyed the chaotic feel of the battle we just finished in Dal Nystiere with the hoard of Goblin Toadies. The rank of enemy these little 1 HPers is referred to as minions. (Most enemies like the brigands are skirmishers or brutes.) I am going to incorporate the use of many minions in my lesser encounters for my adventures. It seems more realistic to me that until you get to the main enemy, a group of particularly strong adventurers would have to fight off a few hoards of peons. Mind you, I will not make all the encounters like this but I am going to use them a lot for fun unless you guys hate the idea. But I imagine some pretty good slaughter going on when I see a bunch of minions with an adept or two running at you.

Lastly: I am going to start rewarding XP like it is no one's business. This adventure has been too slow. No more dividing by 3 the experience. ESPECIALLY not if we add a new party member and I have to start dividing it by 4. From now on each PC gets the full reward. Dungeon Master has spoken.

I think that's all I wanted to touch on. So be prepared to see some awesome changes in your D&D campaign. If anyone objects to the above, speak now or forever be miserable.

Druid's Grove

Druid's Grove is just northwest of Albridge where Reithann the Druid lives. It is a large grove of ancient trees, long sundered from the Harken Forest proper. Reithann lives in a moss covered lodge in a clearing in the grove with her two apprentices. Harkenwolders who venerate primal spirits come to this verdant place seeking Reithann's advice but Iron Circle marauders avoid the grove, fearing the wrath of spirits.

Iron Circle

The Iron Circle, led by brigand captain Nazin Redthorn, came to the Nentir Vale from the southern country of Damara with their mission being: bring the Nentir Vale to heel. Their first task would be to overtake the isolated Barony of Harkenwold.

Redthorn led the Iron Circle mercenaries into Harkenwold for a surprise attack, during which they stormed Harken Keep and took Baron Stockmer captive. Afterwards, sweeps and raids by the Iron Circle extinguished any show of resistance, leaving Harkenwold a conquered land.

Now the Iron Circle brigands, who go by the title "authorities," pillage Harkenwold for "tolls" and "taxes," harshly punishing all who resist.

In what is now called the Iron Keep, Redthorn has been strengthening his forces by negotiating with malignant forces. In particular, he has bribed a group of bullywugs in Toadwallow Caverns.

The Iron Circle has many spies and informants to give them any word on a so-called rebellion that may be stirring. But until a group of three started dropping their numbers, the Iron Circle had no reason for concern. Now, Redthorn has his eye out for the three adventurers, hoping to eliminate them too before they become a real threat.

Chapter Two - Part 2 - Ilyana's Plight

There was the rasping sound of a heavy bolt being drawn back, and then the farmhouse door opened. A half-elf woman of middle years stepped out carrying a battered old crossbow. Two boys of fifteen or so stood behind her inside the house. The woman looked around the farmyard, frowning at the bloodshed, and sighed.

"My thanks, strangers," She said, "Those Iron Circle jackals came to rob us. I barred my door but they said they would burn the house right down with me and my boys in it. You saved our lives but...who are you?"

Rayne stepped up to answer, "I am Rayne, and this is Lirael and XIII, our Daemon companion, is outside...eating. We were simply traveling a way down the road and saw smoke rising from this direction and heard someone screaming. So we cam to see what all the commotion was about. Who were those guys, again? And why were they attacking you?"

"The Iron Circle," She began to explain, "They're a bunch of sellswords and cutthroats who seized Harkenwold a little over a month ago. They've got Baron Stockmer imprisoned in his own keep, and they've been plundering the land ever since. They say they're collecting taxes but it's robbery, pure and simple."

She stepped aside and motioned for them to enter her home, "My name is Ilyana, by the way. And these are my sons, Jarek and Jarl. My husband is...dead. The reavers killed Karthen when they invaded...But we have been getting by, I suppose."


Lirael had a spark of a thought, "Hm, perhaps if we help the people of these poor lands, we may reap the benefits of a hero's reward..."

"Is there anything we could do?" Rayne asked her.

"The folk of Harkenwold are ready to rebel - we just need a spark to set things off. I think you should talk to old Reithann, the druid, or maybe Dar Gremath if you want to help. They'll know what needs doing. Reithann lives in Druid's Grove just north of Albridge, where Dar Gremath lives. But I would go carefully if I were you."

Lirael pulled Rayne aside and said, "This sounds like we will soon be running errands and doing chores for these people. I say we should head straight to Harken to meet the stranger in the Broken Gaol and be on our way. Let these people solve their own problems."

Ilyana interupted, "No, please, avoid Harken Village. There are too many Iron Circle soldiers there. The Baron's keep is in Harken and that's where they've made headquarters. A strange looking group like you three would not go unnoticed there."

XIII walked into the house without bothering to knock or announce his arrival as Lirael heaved a sigh and replied, "Fine, woman, we will sleep on the idea. Do you think we could possibly recuperate from our scuffle outside in your humble abode?"

"You're more than welcome to stay," She informed them, "However, I only have room for one of you to stay in the house, and I don't think I want that blood-covered, sickly looking one with the horns sleeping in here... But you may feel free to make use of the barn outside for shelter as well."

"You cannot make room for three of your saviors to sleep under your roof?" Lirael asked, as if appalled.

"I am sorry, but I have to growing young lads. There just simply isn't room for all of you..."

"I will sleep in the barn," Rayne said and he bade her goodnight and stepped outside.

"Also, woman, I am wondering if you may have any ale on you? Besides, it is the least you could do before sending us off to fight your battles for you after we have just won one."

Ilyana scoffed, "Fine, you may drink all the ale I have. Just so long as that means you will go to Albridge to meet Dar Gremath or Reithann." She handed him a hefty bottle of ale, which he began to guzzle immediately.

"I will not make you promises," Lirael remarked, "But I suppose it is on the way of our destination...But, no! I said we would sleep on the idea. When we have had sufficient rest and the three of us have discussed it together, we will decide whether or not we will meet with your Dar Gremath and Druid."

"How ungrateful..." XIII finally chimed in, "We just saved your lives and this is the way you treat us?" And with that he stormed out the door.

Just then, Lirael sent his thoughts through the air into XIII's mind, saying, Scour the area, XIII. We will make this victory worth our while.

"I must agree, woman," Said Lirael, "Could you not spare a little more hospitality for the charity we provided today?"

"I apologize, eladrin," Ilyana replied defensively, "But it's just that I can't trust anyone anymore. My husband is dead and I have to take care of this farm and my two boys here all by myself."

"But we killed the men who were attacking you. Isn't that enough to trust us?"

"It was a noble thing, indeed, but you have also made it clear that all you care about are the rewards offered for whatever you do. You might have less trouble killing me than those men out there if it would pay off well enough..."

Lirael crossed his arms, "Hmph...well at least we are honest about our motives..."

"I realize, and so I think it would be worth your while to go to Albridge. Dar Gremath and even Baron Stockmer are sure to richly reward you if you were to drive away the reavers and free the Baron. They could offer you much more than I could, I assure you."

Thoroughly intoxicated, Lirael walked over and set the empty bottle of ale down on the table. Looking at Ilyana, he said, "I find you to be very attractive, despite everything, you know."

Ilyana folded her arms crossly, "I am still mourning my husband, fellow. I don't want any advances."

Lirael put his hands up in defense, "I was doing no such thing. I only meant that I admire your ferocity. You are tough. Bowed, but unbroken."

With that he decided to leave her be and join the other in resting in the barn. XIII informed the other two that he was going to sleep outside under the tree. On his way across the yard he replaced some of the vegetables that he stole from the garden, feeling slightly something he might not have ever felt before: guilt.

In the morning, they gathered once again to discuss matters and decided upon visiting Albridge after all. They went and knocked on Ilyana's door to inform her of their decision.

She raised a hand to her heart and said, "That would be doing a great service to this country, friends. Here, please take this food. It's not much, but...I'm sorry I don't have more to offer you. You did such a great thing for us but we have been robbed so many times that I cannot even reward you properly..."

"Keep the food, woman," Lirael said, "We have plenty of rations to get us to town. It wouldn't be worth it to take such a small amount."

Ilyana had a look of guilt upon her face. Rayne walked up to her and dropped a small satchel in her hands. She opened it to see the glimmer of gold and she looked up with shock.

"Take this," Rayne told her, "And hide this better than the silver I found in your barn."

"I can't accept this-" She said, handing it back to him. He just dropped it at her feet and began to walk away.

Lirael walked over to her and picked it up with a shrug but then suddenly, Rayne stormed over and tore it away from him and thrust it into Ilyana's hands, giving Lirael a threatening look.

They left the house and began their travel to Albridge. Lirael explained himself, "Forgive me, Rayne. But she did not want the money, I was only trying to be frugal."

"Of course she wanted the money, Lirael. They have nothing!" Replied Rayne.

Lirael sighed, "Well, I suppose it would be a waste to pay her simply to fulfill her request that we visit some man. We should try and help these people, if we are able."






[Outtakes: (before I forget them)

Lirael: "IETRUHOIESUTHNIWETUNIRUTIUWRTSSSSSSSSS..... (speaking in Infernal)"
XIII: "You're really good at speaking in tongues."
Rayne: "Should we be concerned?"
DM: "How am I gonna type that???"


DM: "blablabla....cause you're evil."
Lirael: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean evil??"
DM: "No, I meant, I mean...that wasn't--"
Lirael: "No, I'm serious, elf. What right do you have to call us evil?!"
DM: "Michael, that was not the NPC saying that!"
Lirael: "Ohhh, okay."
XIII: "Sorry, elf, we sometimes have a disembodied voice that speaks to us...."
Rayne: "Yeah, but only us...." ]