Chapter Fifteen: The Wayward Wanderers Return to Highwind!

[Sherwood]

Luna is silent for a long moment, then looks her father in the eye. "You are right, and there is nothing I can say to try and argue the point with you. All I would be doing is acting like a spoiled child and not the grown wizard that I wish to be." She looks down in embarrassment as she idly rubs Sparkle's head ridges. "I'm sorry I acted poorly, and I promise to try to keep my head about me in the future to make both you and mother proud of me, and make the Callen name stand proud."

 

[Purr]

Luna is silent for a long moment, then looks her father in the eye. "You are right, and there is nothing I can say to try and argue the point with you. All I would be doing is acting like a spoiled child and not the grown wizard that I wish to be." She looks down in embarrassment as she idly rubs Sparkle's head ridges. "I'm sorry I acted poorly, and I promise to try to keep my head about me in the future to make both you and mother proud of me, and make the Callen name stand proud."

Hearing this, Lord Callen looked heartily surprised and a little disappointed (only because he wanted a good debate and he had such high ground and... well, this was for the better really).

He presented his hand toward Luna. "And here before me is Lady Luna Callen, aspiring Wizard, and the daughter I am proud of! Well said, Luna! Now come and give me a hug!"

"Luna, take it from Sparkle!" Lord Callen gently pets the head of his previous familiar whom Luna can see is nodding with the greatest of confidence. "She has seen me blunder more than once because I did not prepare, or I cast the wrong spell at the wrong time, or worst of all, I called upon information I was not entirely certain of and it led to my party's calamity and their natural distrust of me for awhile! I have played the fool, my child! I would see to it that you not make my mistakes and conquer your own bad habits with the Lady Luna inside you leading the charge!"

As this went on, Alec the Ghost was running around screaming to all of you. Luna saw her mother, the source of her great emotion and strong love, standing firmly with her father in this matter and like Luna, completely ignoring her son as the illusory ghost of Brunnhilda chased him and tried to give him kisses.

"Whyyy?!" he cried piteously as he fled through solid objects. "Why aren't any of you helping meee?!"

Finally something broke. Alec's father had enough. And here, laid bare for all Highwind to see, was the canyon-like difference between Luna's good relationship with her mother and father and Alec's sour one.

Lord Callen clenched his fists and snapped at him in a way he never had at Luna. "Because, you mind-blind dolt! There is nothing to fear in the first place!"

Alec stopped immediately and shot Luna a dejected, surprised look. She knew what this look meant. "You should have told me!" But she also knew better than to fall for this play of his. Luna was not the only one with puppy dog eyes at her disposal.

"Damn it, father! You made me look like a fool! Even in death!"

"Because even in death, you are a fool! Alec Callen, how are you ever to find peace if you do not think first?" Alec paused and listened. "Think, Alec! You honestly believed the ghost of Brunnhilda's was chasing down the likes of you?"

Alec thought. Then he shook his head. "Dang it. That's right. She always liked barbarians more than wizards. Sis," he growled at Luna. "If you wind up dead like me, I swear here and now I will never let you live it, er, die it down!" And in that way, Alec Callen chose to deliver his very real affection for his sister. Lord Callen raised his hand to welcome Alec to him. Then in the manner of a grown child with his head hung low, Alec quietly added, "And did you hear what he called me? A 'mind-blind dolt?' I mean, was that necessary?"

And Alec joined you as family once again.

Mother Callen finally spoke. "Good thing your younger sister is at home with a cold to miss this moment, isn't it?"

"I don't know, my honey-pie," Lord Callen mused as he gazed at Luna. "I would say some real good came out of it."

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Otiorin Taletreader

If this day had not been full of strange twists and surprises, then Otiorin was actually a Half-orc.

His breath caught in his throat and for a long few seconds seemed to forget to pass. Elven Thornblades. Not just one, but a matched pair, edged in purest silver and sanctified at the altar of Corellon in distant Waterwind. Otiorin’ s head swam as he regarded the weapon, and then he remembered to actually take a breath. He carefully stowed Sylvia and Sylvan on the hooks that adorned the belt of his Rogues’s attire and gently reached out for the proffered blades.

He had seen such fine weapons before, worn singularly on the belts of honored Elven lords and ladies in their exquisite robes and gowns. Such weapons were as much status symbols as they were weapons and he had never seen someone wear two together, let alone a matched pair. With the delicate care he reserved for lifting the most delicate treasure from the most sensitive trapped pedestal, he gently half-drew the swords from their scabbards. Their blades caught the light and flared defiantly against the encroaching darkness as if they were railing against a hated foe.

They were truly works of art, from their grips, fashioned from antler, to the delicate engravings along their spines. Names sprang unbidden to his lips and he spoke them to the world.
“I name thee, Nimoue, the Shimmering Stream and Astellie, the Favor of the Moon.”, he half-whispered to the bared blades, before gently resheathing them.
“I do not know how I shall ever repay you, my Lord,” Otiorin spoke frankly, “such prized possessions are rare even in the circles of the highest and mightiest of the Grey Elves, and yet you bestow two upon me. I shall ever remember this day and your words and I shall endeavour to always extol the greatest virtues of the kindred of Waterwind.”

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus

Malakye nods in full agreement at Otiorin's words. "I too plant this day in the great forest of my memory. Delivering the now-named Nimoue and Astellie to you was the least our court could do for the trouble our people put you and your family through. Some of our greatest minds, Shalin the Silent Sorcerer the 'loudest' among them, remarked that you should have never had reason to flee our beloved city where water and wind ever meet. None could debate him for long."

A subtle motion provided by one of his entourage returns an equally-subtle nod of permission from the Paladin of the Nine. One of his entourage begins to murmur words, incantations Otiorin knows to be requiring of strong elfish magic. One by one, all of them save for Otiorin, glow a heavenly silver and blue.

"As for my consecration of your new blades," the Voice of Corellon says as he and his disappear from Highwind to a far-off place most Highwindians should never tread, "I cannot accept a single leaf of praise for it. It was all your mother's idea." Malakye kept his unblinking, ageless gaze upon Otiorin as they swiftly and silently vanished, leaving Otiorin alone in the dusky Highwind street.

But the Scion of Charmsring does not remain alone for long, for he had been followed. Out of the shadows far from where any part of their conversation could be heard, emerges Bria of the Ko. Human again, her brown and white robes flutter with the wind as she makes quick steps toward Otiorin. "Hi," her soft voice reaches his ears as she sees the new arsenal upon his person in place of The Lovers. Her face gives her message before she speaks her heart, for all of the magical gear in Sharseya could not deter her from the people who wield them. Especially this one.

In beautiful Celestial, she asks, "How sings your heart?" It is a Celestial way of asking how ones feelings are inside, but coming from Bria, it feels like something much deeper and warm.

 

[Psychie]

Oreleth carefully takes the offered hairs with a smile. "Thank you, my dear friend. I will keep these safe." She folds them up gently and slips them into her pouch, then gives it an affectionate pat with her hand. "It seems that I owe you another favor, but who's keeping track? After all these years, I am one giant step closer to having my bow."

When Dendarian shares his news about the family that she had hoped to find someday, Oreleth lets out a sigh. "Such is the way of things, I suppose. I thank you again for the information. Now, let us find a good tavern and see if you have the same tolerance for ale that I remember!"

 

[Kaerri]

Bren tried not to eavesdrop on Dendarian and Oscar's conversation, a feat made difficult by the fact that the latter was on his shoulder, but easier by their both speaking in low tones. To distract himself, he looked for the other members of his party, smiling as he found them continuing their own homecoming reunions (all but Otiorin and Bria, who were out his sight). Louder voices at his shoulder drew his attention back to Oreleth and her friend, who seemed to have concluded his business with Oscar. As the two elves drew away, Bren tried to focus his gaze on the furry sage. "Where to next? I suppose we could move this indoors, once Otiorin and Bria return. Back to the Adventurers' Guild, say? Then we could get something to eat as well. There probably isn't room for all this crowd, but our party, at least, and Dendarian and the Callens." He found himself drifting back to Shalin and Kath as he spoke. "Think we can fit at least some of us back into the Adventurers' Guild, my friends?" he asked them. "I could use a proper meal, and no doubt the others as well."

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus

(Sorry, Gang! Between getting the module ready and doing lots of behind-the-scenes things for your stay in Highwind, I have not posted as recently as I'd have liked. However, the module is ready, soon D. Rex's Character, Grit, will be ready, and... let's just say that things will stay interesting, shall we? =) )

"Think we can fit at least some of us back into the Adventurers' Guild, my friends?" he asked them. "I could use a proper meal, and no doubt the others as well."

Thus did the Wayward Wanderers retire to the Adventurers' Guild, the most-famous tavern and inn inside Highwind's mountainous walls. Much of the crowd made their way back to their own lives, but not before displaying their thankfulness to any one of Highwind's deities - Saint Cuthbert, the God of Good Sense and Retribution, Mielikki, the Maiden of the Forest, and newest of them all, Thor Odinson, God of Thunder and destroyer of evil giants. Many a good-hearted shout and compliment were passed the way of the Wayward Wanderers, for the Highwindians, those hearty, hardy people of the strangest city of all in Sharseya, knew better than most just how quickly fortunes could change during uncertain times.

This time, fortune had swung the way of the Highwind's own white and green Hippogriff banner, and all of her people present were grateful and full of good cheer. The mood was light as people from small round hobbits to towering, muscular wemics walked with you as you made your way toward the Adventurers' Guild. A few would-be future adventurers and young folk took the time to ask the Wayward Wanderers questions. Most of the queries made sense, but some of them were just the fancies of dreamers, mundane doers, and the wonders of every day folk that made up Averlund's only multi-cultural, multi-racial city.

Yet let allow me to turn back the Sharseyan hourglass a few turns to earlier in the afternoon where most law-abiding, respectable Highwindian folk are well and deep into their day. See, every city has its night owls, and some simply work more agreeably under the cover of the moon than a bright and blazing orange sun above their faces.

One such person is Kaerri Rainshadow and she had just woken.

(More later.)

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Otiorin Taletreader

Otiorin turned from the sight of the Grey Elves disappearing to who-knew-where to see the love of his life emerge from the shadows. His heart filled with passion at the simple sight of her and he opened his mouth to respond.

But no words would come out. For a man who prided himself on having the right words for the situation, he found himself struck mute. The events of the day, from their escaping Pohjala to mere minutes ago, had culminated to this exact moment. All he could do was grasp Bria tightly and cling tightly to her. Tears sprang from his eyes and unabashedly ran down his cheeks. They were of relief, joy, sadness, happiness and pure adoration all combined and, although he could not express any of his thoughts and feelings verbally, he knew Bria, his glorious Bria, would divine his every intent perfectly. So he stood and wept out his emotions, safe in the circle of her arms.

 

[Purr]

( Captain Hesperus )

In the twilight of the city streets, Bria hugs and holds Otiorin until, like two pieces of soft clay, their bodies merge together as one.

It is so very rare, thinks she, to see Otiorin in such a state of mind where his mouth moves and yet nothing but air comes forth! She realizes then - Oti had been through so much of everything that it had finally come bursting out like lava released from a volcano, like a thunderstorm releasing its rain. There was only so much any one soul could take. He had been cursed thrice, transformed into something that was not him twice, and given the chance to restore his life's goal but once. He had endured this and more. Her dear man had watched this all happen to his friends too and sometimes he had been helpless to affect change. Bria could not imagine how he must have felt when she had spoken and acted Bria the Paladin of Mielikki instead of the simple Bria of the Ko everyone knew.

In Bria's heart, she feels warm and proud for him, but in her long years of adventuring, she had grown wise enough to instantly understand that such trials of the soul as his came at great personal cost. What Otiorin was doing now, at least from the Ko monk point of view, was "letting the waters rush forward." He was releasing all that he had kept dammed up inside of him. The returning of The Lovers to the very champion he adored. The end of deep doubts and guilt concerning his mother and her treatment in the far-off city of Waterwind. And more. Perhaps, she thinks, he is releasing feelings he is not even aware of, for rushing waters pull all things in its grasp along.

Holding him, a part of her thinks, was likely all he needs. Still, she wants to do something more to comfort him.

Bria's Elfish was beautiful to hear. She had been practicing it a little during her daily training not long after Otiorin had rescued her from the devilish bard during the Wayward Wanderers daring trek on the Road of Kings. She chooses now to sing in Elfish for him a song of theirs passed down to her from another well-traveled Ko.

As fate would have it, no one disturbs them on the dusky city streets. The wind of Highwind's namesake lessen and quiets. Even the moon appears to turn away in the clouds.

This moment is theirs and theirs alone.

Spoiler: This is the song Bria sings to Otiorin

Na Laetha Geal M'oige ("The Bright Days Of My Childhood") by Enya. An excellent article follows in the link.


(English lyrics)

Looking back at my youth I was happy;
I was not aware of death then.
I was as a child.

Now, I am sorrowful,
Long gone the day.
(lament)

The brighter days of my youth held promise,
The way before me held sure destiny.

Now, I am sorrowful,
Long gone the day.
(lament)

The brighter days of my youth held promise,
The way before me held sure destiny.

Now, I am sorrowful,
Long gone the day.

 

[Purr]

Kaerri Captain Hesperus Tag!

"Just Another Day in Sharseya" - a one-post prologue for Kaerri Rainshadow.

See, every city has its night owls, and some simply work more agreeably under the cover of the moon than a bright and blazing orange sun above their faces.

One such person is Kaerri Rainshadow and she had just woken.

"Ariiiise, my wielder," speaks Wave, the trident created by Poseidon. His voice is strong and deep and rolling like his namesake. Wave is ever-serious and never hurried, even in matters of food. "Afternoon brunch is coming to a close. Will you let it elapse and instead sustain yourself on the stuff of half-elf dreams?"

Kaerri Rainshadow was born half-human and half-wood elf, and while surface elves were bright creatures of the sun, Rainshadow was anything but an early riser. The blanket on her bed does not move though it does seem to emit a low grumble.

"He's right, boss-chick," an unruly feminine voice very familiar to Rainshadow adds. "Wave doesn't eat and neither do I. You on the other hand, are a different story, so get out from under those covers already and read the note pinned to your door, willya?"

There was a note here on the inside of the room she was renting in the Adventurer's Guild? Only one person possessed the skill, not to mention the gall, to do such a thing without waking her or alerting the two she was speaking with. Her mentor. Rainshadow looses another sound, this one some combination of half-elf irritation combined with an imitation of some horrific monster she had met in the past. Or so it sounds like. This time, at least, the covers on the bed move like a shambling mound made of goosedown and soft cloth. The dark mass writhes toward the note and without touching it, stands before it.

The page is a black piece of parchment upon which a pair of lips is drawn in white chalk. Those male lips begin speaking the moment Rainshadow comes within touching distance. "Rise and shine, twin-blood. If this Magic Mouth is speaking to you, then you have about 3 whole minutes to get downstairs before we stop serving! After that, no food for yooou!" She knows this is no jest for the voice and the spell both belong to her mentor. What had he said? Only three minutes?!

A cry of realization and surprise leaves Rainshadow's lips as the covers fly away to reveal hands reaching for her leather leggings and favorite shirt. Quick as can be without taking the time to do her hair, Rainshadow throws her enchanted boots on her feet, snags Wave, and leaps straight at the door. Of her two constant adventuring companions, Wave was the only one she had to grab; the other was never far from her unless she wanted to be alone. She knew better than to touch the note and even moreso than to try the brass knobk on the thick oaken door to her room.

Instead, she just phases right through it.

Like a ghost from beyond, Rainshadow appears in the familiar hallway, her soft boots touching down upon the carpeted floor. It was not as she had left it early this morning. There are signs to her left in every language spoken in Highwind. Signs like, "Detour!" "Don't go this way!" "Kaerri! Look right!" She looks to her right and sees the hallway and staircase leading downstairs into the ground floor where the Adventurers' Guild contain its serving tables, bar, and kitchen. She hears sounds of people dining downstairs. The hallway leading in that direction seems perfectly normal.

And that's why she doesn't dare trust it.

With a practiced paranoia only hunters and rogues possess, Rainshadow examines the corridor and finds what she is looking for - small bumps along the walls and holes in the floor and ceiling. Illusory? Real? It wouldn't matter to her stomach if she didn't get down there in time to eat! This was a set-up by her mentor! He belonged to the Fangs of the Forest Mother - a top-notch adventuring team that had been strong long before Kaerri had ever come to Highwind. She knows she doesn't have the necessary time to see if these are illusions so she treats the bumps as real and races toward the corridor. Instead of using the floor like normal people, she hops along the wall grabbing and sprinting one-handed, using Wave as a skipping tool when needed.

K-SHING! K-SHING!

And there came the traps! Great-axe blades like curved guillotines came slicing swiftly from the floor and ceiling. One after the other, they seek her flesh, but Kaerri is not only a Shadowdancer, but one of the finest rogues ever to adventure in Highwind. She hooks Wave onto one axe-blade and, instead of it cutting her, she lets the force and momentum of the trap speed her along and down the stairs.

CHOOF! CHOOF!

The sounds of darts shooting out of the walls and tipped with Poseidon-knew-what whisk by her. She searches for their firing pattern and soon finds it. By guessing the darts' reloading times, Rainshadow reasonably thinks she knows which holes to put herself in front of and which not to. There is the strong temptation to use the railing to slide down, but a single glance tells her the reflective shine there is not ordinary wood polish but likely Gnome-glue, a favorite ingredient of professional trap-makers across Averlund. One touch and she would be stuck solid then shot by the darts!

Her only way down the stairs now is across the ceiling and that means muscle work. From corner to corner, Kaerri pushes and pulls herself over the dart-holes and down the stairs until finally, she sees it!

On the ground floor well-lit by the sun's afternoon radiance, she sees the "King's Tables" - a collection of four massive rectangular wooden tables that dominate the dining room. These tables could be combined into one or two sections to seat huge parties. One of the four tables is bedecked with food, drink, and twelve chairs, only one of which is unoccupied. And there heading towards that last chair, dish in hand, is her mentor!

Kaerri leaps in a mad effort to beat him to it, but as she is in mid-air, she hears a sudden sound inside of her mind - it is Wave and he is telepathically communicating one long sigh to her. This is bad but there is nothing she can do about it! Kaerri lands in the seat and the moment she touches it, her mind is powerfully assaulted by some spell! Her hands and feet cease their movements! Her muscles and tendons lock into place and refuse to obey her commands to move! Her face stops frozen in surprise, her mouth is barely open, and her pretty eyes can only stare straight ahead!

She is paralyzed!

"Ahhh, Captain Kaeritha Dragonslayer! So good of you to join us!" comes the sarcastic chuckle of her mentor as he sits on the table beside her. "Remember, when on the job, never trust anything - not even an opportunity."

"Hiii, Kaerriii!" greets the entire table as if on cue. Rainshadow sees and hears every member of the Fangs of the Forest Mother casually dining along with their staff of bartenders, servers, hosts, and cooks. They laugh and wave to her as if they have been in on the joke all along.

"Next time," blonde-haired Gwendolyn, the leader of the Fangs, grins sympathetically, "just sit on the table. We won't mind."

"Heeeere, I bet you're hungry after all that work," her mentor smiles and puts a forkful of delicious-smelling crispy bacon and eggs into her mouth knowing full well she can't chew. It rests there on her pink tongue, devilishly taunting her.

"Wow! That's fucked up, boss-chick!" states the female voice Kaerri awoke to. Wave, still grasped firmly in her right hand, broods.

Her mentor continues, his wide smile hanging before her. "So now that we've got your undivided attention, we thought maybe you want to hear about the latest news? It starts with the Wayward Wanderers."

Wayward Wanderers? Who? It was a group Kaerri Rainshadow had never before heard of. But her mentor certainly had which was unsurprising. And he told his captive audience all kinds of good things.

Three unearthly-long minutes later, the spell broke and Kaerri was finally able to chew her food, much to the laughter of her buddies and acquaintances there in the Adventurers' Guild.

It was just another day in Sharseya!

 

[Purr]

Spoiler: Location, Date, and Weather

Location: The Adventurers' Guild!
Time/Date: Just after dusk. Now that you're back, perhaps it's time to ask someone the date?
Weather: Clear and windy with a peaceful-looking night sky. Up here in the mountain city, the stars seem to come to you instead of the other way around!

( Captain Hesperus Tag!)

The Wayward Wanderers continue their stroll along the breezy Highwindian streets where tall stone buildings and wide alleyways tell of a city built for people of many shapes and sizes. The sun had settled into her cradle beyond the horizon and it was along these streets lit by magical lanterns that did not flicker or flutter in the cool winds that drifted all about you, reminding you always that you dwelt now in a city built atop a mountain as old as the continent.

Not long into your journey are you reunited with Otiorin and Bria, the Ko monk guiding the dragonblooded along with a big smile on her face. You notice immediately that Otiorin's twin swords seem to have been replaced with another pair of Elfish blades that look as refined as they are deadly.

A handful of curious inhabitants, mostly colorful gnomes, generous hobbits, and friendly centaurs, continued to follow you along chatting, asking questions, and making certain that you made it to your intended destination - the tavern and inn called the Adventurers' Guild. Even far-off travelers like Luna, Oreleth, and Otiorin had heard of this place. Not a formal guild at all but one of the finest places for true adventurers to gather information, rest their weary bones, or brag with trophies held high in hands among other adventurers. To folk like Brendoran and Bria, this place was something like a second home. Many were the acquaintances and friends that came through these doors! This was the one place in Highwind, perhaps in all the realms, designed with adventurers in mind - as the Wayward Wanderers discover upon reaching it.

The music is the first thing you hear followed by the dull roaring of conversations from the biggest building you had ever seen dedicated to the frolicking of adventurers. Inside the swinging twin doors, you could see towering minotaurs, gossipy dwarves, laughing humans, all bedecked in the gear of mystery-solvers, monster-battlers, and magic-wielders.

Bren and Bria could reasonably theorize that tonight was either a Friday, Saturday, or Sunday given the sheer amount of people inside. Finding a table for a party your size would probably be trouble. For with the Wayward Wanderers were Luna's mother, father, and ghostly brother, Oreleth's buddy Dendarian, Glider along half a dozen smiling and robe-clad Ko monks with Bren, Bria, and Otiorin, wide-eyed Count Barathus and his four servants, and ever-cautious Tarros the Tamer. All of you were sharing small talk and continuing your introductions when your entire entourage was stopped at the entrance by... a kobold!

Spoiler: A kobold!

This, wearing a chain shirt and a finer spear. The chain shirt is covered with the forest-green and cloud-white livery of a Highwindian City Guard.

(Image credit: The skilled Acr0ssTh3P0nd on Reddit)

The Wayward Wanderers have never ever heard of kobolds entering Highwind. These draconic little monsters were known to work together to bring the downfall of many creatures greater in size than themselves. They had a reputation for being as evil as they were cunning, however they were also weak in physical strength and never altogether wise. What one could be doing guarding the front door of the Adventurers' Guild was beyond you!

"Uhh," he gulps once, then straightens his back and plants the butt of his spear upon the wooden floorboards with a thump. "You guys better not cause any trouble in here or you'll git what's comin' to you!"

Behind him, emerging from the doorway like some great heroic statue come alive is a massive wemic clad in platemail armor with a Highwindian Medallion about his neck. His mighty arms are crossed below a scowling face. Bren knows this to be Gromash the Terrible, the Captain of the Highwindian City Guard and no one to be trifled with. His feline eyes examine you all as the breeze touches his lionlike mane.

Gromash growls and manages to look intimidating without trying. In an instructing tone, he says, "Try again, Nitwit. This time... with less threat and a lighter tone."

Nitwit the Kobold looks all the way up to Gromash and then back to you. This time, he tries a crooked smile that you think is meant to be resolved but kind of friendly. "Uhh, welcome! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild! Now behave yourselves and... uhh... have a good time, okay?"

Gromash shrugs. "Better." Gromash turns to Brendoran first and bows his head as is fitting given their difference in positions. Nitwit sees this and bows too, but more deeply. "Good eve to you and your party, Count Sarabina. The King's Tables have been reserved for you. Enjoy the nightly chaos." With this, Gromash gives Bren a sour look for Bren knows well of Gromash's penchant for lawfulness and discipline and often enough, the Adventurers' Guild has been filled with neither.

"Nitwit?"

"Oh, uh, yessir!" Nitwit climbs atop a chair, takes a deep breath, and shouts out to the room at large. "Heaaar yeee! Heaaar yeee! Now entering the Adventurers' Guild... the Wayward Wanderers!"

Nearly every head turns and a rousing cheer goes up from the minstrels, the bar staff, the servers, and the myriad bestiary of adventurers from all manner of races and walks of life. Shouts of "Hey hey!" "Welcome home!" "Get in outta th' breeze already!"

You are not inside the Guild for ten seconds when a marvelous-looking blonde-haired woman somewhere perhaps in her forties wearing a servers' dress gracefully glides by and stands before Bria, a small tray of drinks in hand. "Bria! Trelissa is down with a fever and Galtork is with his wife having their next half-orc child. We're shorthanded! Can you help?"

"Hi Gwen! Can I?" Bria beams, looks down at her Ko fighting robes, and with three swishes of one hand, her glamered armor mirrors that of Gwen's own. "Which table?"

"Table Five!" Tray in hand, Bria scoots away and joins the flow of the tavern with an excited wink at Otiorin. Gwen turns to Bren with her hands on her hips and says, "Bren! You and Kaerri need to have a conversation! Now scoot! The rest of you? To the King's Tables! We'll be with you shortly!" Then she is gone, merging with the crowded tavern.

As you seat yourselves at four gigantic tables all placed together to form one, you find you are surrounded by other adventurers of nearly every method and manner! Wily rogues sit next to fit fighters. Barbaric-looking clerics (shamans?) wearing the regalia of Thor, God of Thunder banter with classy-looking priests proudly bedecked in the livery of Saint Cuthbert, God of Good Sense and Retribution. You see few wizards or sorcerers and no elves, but if you want bards, you have but to look at the massive stage upon which sit a happy band of seven all playing in harmony together.

Several of these pause, gasp, and gawk at the Felane in your party. For nowhere in all of Averlund are Bast's children known.

"Hiii, good eves an' all dat," Powerpaw smiles to the onlookers, his blood-red eyes narrowed and white fangs showing as he presents Mamapaw a chair and seats her before seating himself.

The only figure sitting at the King's Tables before you is a roguish young woman with strawberry hair and the eyes of one who has seen much without letting it overly bother her. Glowing gold and with obvious magic in her left hand is an ancient-looking trident, a weapon no common Highwindian uses for it is a weapon of the sea. Then you notice her elfish features... and her human features. This is a half-elf and one Bren has seen before. At that moment, Powerpaw who is sitting at her left, looks at her and does a double-take.

"Kaerri? WHOA! KAERRI?!" Powerpaw bursts into feline laughter and moves to wrap his arms around her in a huge hug. The half-elf swiftly adjusts the position of the trident to be out of the way before accepting the hug. "Mom! Guyz!" Powerpaw points excitedly, "Don't touch da trident! Whatevar ya do! Don't do its! Dis is Kaerri Rainshadow! Kaerri? Dis is mom!" Mamapaw grins in surprise and offers a big paw to shake. "An'... dis is evwiebody!" Powerpaw does his best to introduce those he knows to Kaerri.

The chair opposite Kaerri is open for Bren to take.

Here in the legendary tavern, it looks like the evening is just beginning in more ways than one!

All of you are seated and able to converse with one another as you please. What would you like to do?

(Image credit: Inn Of Heroes by the wonderful Woo Chul Lee)

GAME DETAILS

Location: Highwind!
Mode: Exploration
Click Blue Box for Ambiance =)

Spoiler

"D&D/RPG Playlist - TAVERN MUSIC" compiled by Pakku

 

[Sherwood]

Luna does her best to maintain her dignity as the party makes its way through the city to the Adventurers Guild. She is looking forward to seeing this legendary place, one that she has heard much of over the years. As they walk, she asks her father, "Daddy, you have traveled much more than I have, not counting the cursed lands we just escaped from. Have you ever been here before to see the sights of this great city?"

 

[Purr]

Sherwood Luna the Wizard

Lord Callen enters this place and it seems like a good 10 years of his life just leaves him. There is a slight bounce to his stride, a sureness to his already-confident features, and a warm familiarity that seems to bring him a large amount of comfort. For unlike most lords and ladies of the Golden Valley of Summerset, Lord Callen the Master Illusionist was once an adventurer. To be among them again now, this many, in a place made with them mind, brought forth a fire in his eye Luna had only seen during late nights in their manor, in front of a roaring fireplace before bedtime, when he would tell his children of his daring and youthful escapades - all of which he swore were true with Sparkle on his shoulder, sure to correct him.

"Once, Luna. I have visited Highwind once. When I was about your age, back when the hobgoblin chieftains had banded together and harassed the northern forests! But this place was not here then!"

As you are making yourselves comfortable, you overhear a team of six young humans and gnomes discussing something in irritated tones. Baffled, one thumps the table with his leather-clad fist. "Those Shambling Mounds have no fear and no weaknesses! We'll never get past them to the 3rd level!"

Hearing this, your father cannot keep his mouth closed. "Untrue!" The party turns to him, their irritation growing but also their curiosity. Lord Callen continues. "Shambling Mounds are intelligent creatures and thus know fear!"

"What say you, old man?" clamors a heavyset woman wearing robes and feeding a frog on the table. "I threw my mightiest Lightning Bolt at it and it shrugged it off. Lightning harms everything!"

Lord Callen winks at Luna and replies, "And there lies your undoing! Shambling Mounds are strengthened by the power of lightning! You did it a temporary favor!" He let that sink in to the gawking young adventurers and added, "For a terrific alternative that won't cost you a lot of coin, get yourself to Earthhome! See Mielikki's clerics for their Wands of Defoilation!"

"De-what? What'll those do?"

"Why, those wands destroy plant-life and all forms of vegetation! Even 8-foot tall omnivorous monstrosities like the Shambling Mounds! The very wands the Mielikkians use to inexpensively and easily prune their trees and prime their gardens can shrivel a Shambling Mound with but a handful of blasts, but no one buys those wands because everyone thinks they're just for tree-huggers! Go and see for yourselves! I will pay for your next meals if I am lying!"

The young troupe exchange a flurry of excited glances, even a few toward Luna. "Server! Our tab settled, if you please!" one of the gnomes demands. "We've a temple of the Forest Lady to give an offering to!"

Lord Callen turns back to Luna and grins proudly. "Ahh, it is good to be amongst adventurers again!" Those seated in nearby tables who overheard the exchange nod respectfully toward you and your company.

But then another member of the same party leans forward. "But wait! If you're so smart... what of Green Slime, eh?" the tall, bucktoothed human wearing leather armor and carrying a pair of swords on his hips bellows in frustration. "By the Saint, that devilish stuff eats through stone, wood, plate mail armor, and people too! Lightning, hammers, magic missiles, sonic blasts - we've tried it! It ignores all! And that's what awaits us in the subterranean caves after the blasted Shamblers! How then do we proceed?"

"Ahh!" With a confident laugh Lord Callen spins in his chair toward Luna. With both hands he presents you proudly. "And what is the answer to that? I bet my daughter here knows! Come, Luna! How does an adventuring party defeat the flesh-eating horrors of Green Slime?"

The voices around Luna quiet and listen in suspense, some in trepidation, for it was true - Green Slime that struck a living body ate that unlucky soul alive to produce more of itself! Luna was dead-certain her father knew the solution. But did Luna?

What does Luna do?

Spoiler: Sherwood

Feel free to ask questions in Adventurers' Table if you like!

 

[Psychie]

For her part, while Oreleth is somewhat impressed with the city, it does not match the natural beauty of an elven city, built in and around the trees that give the world life. She glances over at Dendarian and says, "This Highwind is pretty, but it is just not what I would want to call home." Oreleth looks around, then says, "I wonder what kind of drinks that this Adventurers Guild has available?"

 

[Purr]

Psychie Oreleth the Arcane Archer

"Dangerous ones, I'll wager!" Dendarian replies. "I could not call this home either, but it makes for a place worth talking about when we're there! The others won't believe us when we tell them of this house of tales and history-makers."

You see and hear from the busy bar a ring of a celebrating fellowship as they surround a hobbit perched on a barstool. Beside him on another barstool and heavy blanket is the reeking head of a once-ferocious Owlbear. "Hooray for Perrin!" they shout. "May his lucky dagger always find the right spot!" They point at the Owlbear's head and by their talking, you and Dendarian get the impression the humble rogue leapt wounded out of the shadows with his last ounce of strength and sunk his dagger into the neck of the much larger and stronger creatures, thereby saving three of the other members of his fellowship.

They are now buying him one drink. "The Blind Beholder!" they cheer. Immediately, the sandy-haired hobbit's eyes brighten and he rubs his hands together. One of the bartenders, a well-muscled bald human who looks like he takes no guff from anyone, slaps his hands on the counter and shouts at the hobbit. "Think you can handle it as well as you handle your monsters, little hero?"

"I... think I'm about to find out! Down the hatch!"

Dendarian gives Oreleth a look of doubt and dismay. "What on Sharseya could a 'Blind Beholder' be?"

"To our fellowship! Long may we stand!" The hobbit raises the glass to his lips as his fellows chant his name. The first touch to his lips and you watch the hobbit's eyes go bloodshot! Halfway through, he is staggering. Then, finally, he finishes it and the bartender is quick to get the glass back before he drops it. Surrounded by his fellows, the hobbit cries. "I can't see! What... what is all this going through my mind?!" There is laughter all around him and a stalwart-looking man wearing breastplate armor with the livery of Saint Cuthbert ready to cast his healing magic if the experience goes awry.

"Oh my heavens!" the hobbit smiles. "The fireberries! The fireberries of home! Oh, I haven't seen them in ages! How sweet they smell!"

His fellows laugh and watch out for him as the hobbit seems to take on a rollicking ride down the road of memories. He stumbles. They catch him quickly and sit beside him as he sits dazed and delighted. "Oh, my lovely Priscilla! You look absolutely darling in that dress!" There is no one near him wearing a dress but he does not know that.

Dendarian chuckles warily. "Well, I think we know what not to order!" Then he points to Oreleth's bow. "Given any thought as to what to do with that hair I worked so hard for? I imagine we'll part company before long and I'd like to know a little more about how your quest goes!"

 

[Purr]

Sherwood Luna the Wizard

Luna has but to think back to the spine-shaking drawings and descriptions of the books she was told to study back at Boccob's "Knowledge College." Intricate pencils and intimate fact-filled details of what Green Slime does when it touches flesh is enough to make lesser would-be adventurers reach for a bucket. But such was the strict regimen of Luna's studies that she read them until she understood them.

Green Slime was a mindless organism of varying size. It often dropped from the ceilings of caverns and dungeons onto unwary people and ate them much like a slow-acting but powerful acid. As such, there were only a few ways of combating the vile stuff and only one of those were certain. Fire and cold in great amounts often harmed patches of Green Slime as did using something to scrape or excise the monster out of one's skin or armor (and then then scraping devices thrown away forever). But best of all, the faithful and divine had a life-saving moderately-powerful spell commonly called Cure Disease. While that spell erased the many diseases and infestations that plagued Sharseya's races, Cure Disease completely eradicated any decent-sized patch of Green Slime without fail (no Saving Throw allowed).

However... there had been awful tales told by Dwarves of entire colonies of Green Slime dominating wet and resource-filled regions in the Underdark. Years ago, some of Luna's instructors wondered aloud if there were enough of the faithful to destroy such life-eating colonies.

How does Luna respond?

 

[Sherwood]

Luna thinks for a moment, trying to remember what she has read about such monsters. She then says, "Well, my own personal response to a Green Slime is to turn to my signature fire magics that I use as an Evoker mage. Cold attacks also are quite effective. However, there is a spell that is much more effective in destroying such a monster. The cleric's ability of Cure Disease is by far the best way to eliminate the threat of a Green Slime, making a Divine caster in your party quite valuable if and when you run into these horrid things. What you want to remember is to keep your distance from it, and not try to use a sword to hack into one. That might just make it split apart and make two of the slimes instead of just one!"

She glances over at her father to see his reaction to her revelations.

 

[Kaerri]

"Kaerri? WHOA! KAERRI?!" Powerpaw bursts into feline laughter and moves to wrap his arms around her in a huge hug. The half-elf swiftly adjusts the position of the trident to be out of the way before accepting the hug. "Mom! Guyz!" Powerpaw points excitedly, "Don't touch da trident! Whatevar ya do! Don't do its! Dis is Kaerri Rainshadow! Kaerri? Dis is mom!" Mamapaw grins in surprise and offers a big paw to shake. "An'... dis is evwiebody!" Powerpaw does his best to introduce those he knows to Kaerri.

" 'Sup," Kaerri replies, tossing a wave (not THE Wave, just a ) in Powerpaw's general direction and takes Mamapaw's hand for a friendly shake. "Hi, Mom. Nice to meet ya, everybody." She nods, her gaze traveling across the group, pausing a bit longer on her fellow half-elf. "Hair and eyes," she notes in an undertone, apparently amused at some private joke, then tilts her head to look at someone a good bit taller than Otiorin. "Bren, got a minute?" She pats the chair next to hers.

The paladin, meanwhile, has listened to Powerpaw's introduction with a kind of dawning understanding, despite his having recognized Kaerri without it. "Rainshadow," he says, smiling. "Of course!" He then realizes that he hadn't answered her (though it might have seemed he had), and repeats, in a slightly different tone, "Yes, of course, Gwen said I needed to talk to you. What can I do for you?"

"Other way 'round," the rogue replies. "Seems I'm to do something for you, or rather for your goddess. Congrats on the paladin thing, by the way. Suits you."

Bren grins rather modestly. "Well, I finally realized that too, and She accepted me as her knight and changed me fully to paladin. Now stop beating around the bush, please."

Kaerri grins back, mischievously rather than modestly. "You got me. All right then. Your party's bound to go stick one in Loviatar's eye, right? Destroy her bridge, give Mielikki back her husband, all that good stuff. Well, she says, or rather Gwen says she says, that y'all're gonna need a good trapbuster, and no offense to the rogue you got, but it seems they've got other skills? Whereas that's kinda my thing, and I'm available, and would I tag along, pretty please. So of course I said yes, and here we are. That OK with you, O fearless leader?"

"Well, it would be," he replies, "but I've actually accepted another duty, so you'll need to ask the others. And I suppose they'll need to pick a new leader --"

"Over dinner," Kaerri interrupts, and adds irreverently, "Sit, holy one, you'll give me a crick in my neck."

The paladin laughs and obeys.

"The rest of you, too," Kaerri continues, beckoning to anyone who hasn't already taken a chair and isn't involved in another conversation. "If you've never been here, you're in for a treat. If you have, you already knew that. Either way, let's us get acquainted, hey?"

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus

"Well, my own personal response to a Green Slime is to turn to my signature fire magics that I use as an Evoker mage. Cold attacks also are quite effective. However, there is a spell that is much more effective in destroying such a monster. The cleric's ability of Cure Disease is by far the best way to eliminate the threat of a Green Slime, making a Divine caster in your party quite valuable if and when you run into these horrid things. What you want to remember is to keep your distance from it, and not try to use a sword to hack into one. That might just make it split apart and make two of the slimes instead of just one!"

She glances over at her father to see his reaction to her revelations.

Lord Callen nods throughout Luna's description, but pauses at the very end. "Oozes are known to separate when split, but slimes tend to engulf instead. It is the old 'peanut butter' versus 'jelly' debate. Oozes are like jellies in that they tend to separate when struck; slimes tend to stick and devour when struck. Other than that, that was an excellent description!" Lord Callen raises a finger and continues. Luna knew him to do this when a thought had struck him.

Lord Callen asks his daughter. "Very recently, we discussed an item that might also serve as a force against Green Slime. An affordable one. What was it and do you think it might work?"

* * *​

"The rest of you, too," Kaerri continues, beckoning to anyone who hasn't already taken a chair and isn't involved in another conversation. "If you've never been here, you're in for a treat. If you have, you already knew that. Either way, let's us get acquainted, hey?"

Powerpaw's face contorts in confusion. "Waaaaaitaminnit! Kaerri-face, iz you sayin' you iz comin' wif us?" Powerpaw does not wait for an answer but turns to his fellow Wayward Wanderers sans Bria who has disappeared into a kitchen as busy as it is large. "Hay fellas! You hearin' dis? Likki-face wants Kaerri-face ta come along! Whaddya say?"

"I say," Mamapaw glares at her son, "that you call her by her proper name! Mielikki!"

"Whups! My licky. Your licky. Mielikki! I'll try ta remember! But don'tcha haf an opinion about dis?"

Mamapaw thinks for a moment then leans over to look at Kaerri. "You are clearly a half-elf. By your skin and face, you appear to hail from the wood elves of the Forest Eternal, like our Oreleth! But what is your stake in this? Why risk your life or do you have a bone to pick against Loviatar too?"

Before Kaerri could answer, Lord Callen peers at Kaerri and says, "Pardon my curiosity. Are you, pray tell, a Shadowdancer?"

 

[Psychie]

Dendarian chuckles warily. "Well, I think we know what not to order!" Then he points to Oreleth's bow. "Given any thought as to what to do with that hair I worked so hard for? I imagine we'll part company before long and I'd like to know a little more about how your quest goes!"

Oreleth adds her own laughter to that of her dear friend. "I don't know . . . I've seen you drink some pretty vile things in our time together! Surely you can handle that?" Her smile shows that she's teasing, and calls out for a good bottle of wine to share. "As much as I wish I could just drop everything and go questing to make the Songbow, the land needs us to stop Loviatar and the Bridge she's built. But trust me when I say, the strands of hair you've delivered to me will not go to waste! One way or another, I will have my prize."

 

[Purr]

Psychie

Dendarian chuckles and nods. "You and your family are all alike. Willing to go anywhere and do anything to get something you want done. Hey! Mind sharing what you learned so far? Maybe I can help you with it in my own travels."

 

[Kaerri]

"Whups! My licky. Your licky. Mielikki! I'll try ta remember!"

Kaerri can't help but laugh, and even Bren smiles, at Powerpaw's mangling of the goddess's name.

Mamapaw thinks for a moment then leans over to look at Kaerri. "You are clearly a half-elf. By your skin and face, you appear to hail from the wood elves of the Forest Eternal, like our Oreleth! But what is your stake in this? Why risk your life or do you have a bone to pick against Loviatar too?"

Before Kaerri could answer, Lord Callen peers at Kaerri and says, "Pardon my curiosity. Are you, pray tell, a Shadowdancer?"

Kaerri holds out her arms and inspects them, then twists to look herself over without getting up. "Does it show?" she asks Lord Callen in return, brown eyes twinking. "Yep, half-elf of the Forest Eternal, Rogue and Shadowdancer Kaerri Elvenheart, called Rainshadow, at your service. For the moment, at any rate; if the Wanderers want me along then my service is kinda spoken for 'til a certain bridge is broke." She looks down the table to Mamapaw. "I'm an adventurer at heart as well as by profession. It's not that I don't value my life, but staying safely and quietly at home was never my thing, y'know. And my sister's a cleric of Mielikki, so I've sort of got a stake in it on her behalf. And on my own -- Mielikki's one of Highwind's major deities, and Highwind's the best home I've ever had. I'm happy to stick one in the eye of anyone who wants to mess that up. Besides," she finishes, grinning, "spiking Loviatar's wheels is worth it just on its own merit, or more to the point, her lack of merit."

 

[Purr]

(Post 1 of 2)

Captain Hesperus (Tag!)

Kaerri holds out her arms and inspects them, then twists to look herself over without getting up. "Does it show?" she asks Lord Callen in return, brown eyes twinking.

"Yes!" Lord Callen replies with a wide grin. "A good Wizard is one who experiments and you, adventurer, have just helped me bring one such experiment to conclusion. Would you like to know how I got there?" He turns to add his daughter in on the question with his typical "aren't you interested in this? Of course you are! What Wizard worth her spellbook wouldn't be?" enthusiasm.

On Luna's shoulder, Sparkle rolls her reptile eyes and smirks in admiration. Inside their Familiar Link, the pseudo-dragon sounds pleased. Your father remains the same no matter his age. I imagine you will be the same you when you arrive at his age.

Spoiler: If interested, Lord Callen divulges the following

Luna's father rather proudly taps his circlet - an item that Luna knows he hardly ever leaves the manor without as it allows him to cast certain Detect spells with a thought instead of using their Verbal, Somatic, and Material components (though he must still possess the components in question). "You see, I have learned that Shadowdancers of some experience often have Shadows by their side at all times. The rarest of these are intelligent and full of soul. But! They remain undead! It just so happens Luna has a brother who is undead," he points at a disturbance standing next to one of the fireplaces, barely discernible unless one is paying very close attention, "and so I keep track of him through use of the Detect Undead spell. Turns out that very same novice-level spell tells me your own shadow... has a life of its own! Am I right?"

Lord Callen rubs his hands together earnestly. It doesn't take a Half-elven Rogue to see Luna's father is filled with suspense and enjoying every minute.

* * *​

Mamapaw smiles at Rainshadow's response. "Young lady, I believe you and I are going to get along just fine!"

Powerpaw's tiger-like maw grins. "Whad I tellya, Mom? Dis Kitty-face doesn't hang out wif no bums! Only da best for dis Bastet-Kitty!"

* * *​

By this time, the Kings Tables are packed with adventurers, every one of them having some connection with the Wayward Wanderers. One of them rounds the table toward Brendoran. It is Glider. He has that look on his face where he is both very apologetic and very happy at the same time. Brendoran's father once mentioned Glider is "one of the few people so expressive as to place the feelings of his soul on his face with nothing between them to interfere with the expression." Glider is carrying something large and flat, covered with a wide, white cotton cloth. He is carrying it towards Bren.

As Glider reaches the Mielikkian Paladin, "Hi!" He says rather shyly. "I've been waiting to do this since we parted ways on the Road of Kings? Dear Killaneson, I am so very sorry for smashing up your shield! Um... so... I kind of... got you another one from Ben and Misha's. I really hope you like it!" Glider, for all of his martial arts skill and great deeds as a Ko Monk Master, hands Bren the shield and cloth like some penitent youth who has wronged a fellow buddy.

Spoiler: If Bren accepts the gift...

Please add one Heavy Wooden Shield +4 of Spell Resistance (18) to Brendoran's Character Sheet. This artwork covers the face of the impressive barrier. The shield is in the shape of the artwork. The inside straps are made from a thick leather Bren instantly recognizes as dragonhide (young green dragon, most likely).

(Image credit: Pinterest)

 

[Kaerri]

Kaerri
The Shadowdancer perks her half-elven ears at the offered explanation. "I'd like very much to know what gave it away, and thanks in advance!" She listens to Lord Callen, and laughs, glancing at the same shadow he pointed at. "Well, now, that's a first for me! Makes sense, and you're right, though I hope your books or whatever also mentioned Eris'll be on the good guys' side since I am. Won't turn up if Sir Bren here does his paladin Detect Evil thing."

Brendoran
Sir Bren would take her word for it, but as it happens he misses the remark entirely, distracted as he is by Glider's approach. "You know I don't hold you to blame for that, he begins as he uncovers the shield. "Forest lady!" he exclaims. "That's lovely, Glider! And how fitting! Thank you very much! I can't wait to show Star. I'm sure he'll be as pleased as I am." He stands to sling the shield onto his arm and try its weight, careful not to hit anyone in the process, then moves the shielded arm aside to hug the older man with his right arm.

 

[Purr]

(Post 2 of 2) D. Rex

"An Unusual Kobold"

Yesterday afternoon at Highwind's East Gate...

Grit the Kobold was training in melee combat along with his fellow Highwind City Guards. Swoosh! Clang! The swords and shields spoke and rang throughout the courtyard as a dozen of your armored fellows hacked, slashed, and blocked your way to victory or defeat. Grit had been part of the City Guards long enough to have become a respected member of their group, not only through his actions, but his terrific skill as a Fighter Lord.

Spoiler: D. Rex

A "Fighter Lord" is a title given to any Fighter that has attained 9th level or above. It is a title that brings respect to equals and awe from lesser Fighters and should be treated as such. This is not to be confused with the rank title "Lord" held among Highwind's many nobles which can be earned or born into.

Most of Highwind's City Guards at the moment are Fighters from 1st-4th level with a talented group of 6th level sergeants. There is the occasional Ranger, Cleric, or Barbrarian among your fold. Paladins are all too rare in Sharseya.

The Highwind City Guards only had a handful of Fighter Lords, the greatest among them was Gromash the Terrible, the Captain of the City Guard who was now prowling about your fighting teams on his four feline paws. His massively-muscled arms crossed underneath his ever-stern gaze. Over the sounds of men and women grunting under their chain mail armor and white and green hauberks, Gromash shouted at every last one of you.

"Remember well! Our fellow Highwindians face the Army of the Black Fang on fields far from our mountain-home. While they fight orcs, ogres, giants, and worse, they depend on us to keep the peace here and ensure the safety of their families! To root out crime in the name of King Wildegard is to serve both the crown and the decent people of Highwind! For small crimes left unchecked grow into larger crimes, ruining the lives of more and more innocent people! Highwind is the only city as far as the eye can see! If we cannot uphold law and order inside her proud walls, who will? It falls to us! The Highwind City Guard!"

As Grit disarmed his Dwarven opponent, the guard cursed and paused, grumbling about his defeat at the hands of a speedy Kobold. That was until Gromash's foreleg belted the bearded fellow right in the rump. His deep voice rumbled like a dark thundercloud. "Think you our enemies will stop at disarming you? Grit! Take him down!"

This Grit did with alacrity. The Dwarven Guard, flat on his back, shouted in surprise but neither Fighter Lord Grit nor Gromash had reason to be surprised with the outcome. The lion-sized Gromash towered over the much smaller Grit and therefore was able to see the watchman wave a flag with a name on it toward the Captain of the Guard.

"Grit," Gromash commanded. "You have company outside. You have fifteen minutes to return. Inform me if you require more. As for you," Gromash helped the Dwarf back to his feet, "I will be your opponent." The Dwarf's face fell as he retrieved his sword and watched Grit go.

* * *​

Heavy mountain winds pushed against Grit as he exited the courtyard and stood outside the City on the Mountain. Above Grit, flew trios of small dragons along with their crossbow-armed riders, but the little Kobold had known them to fly over the city at all hours. What he didn't know was who was here to see him? A watchman, a human woman with earth-brown skin wearing the livery of a scout, showed him to an entourage of five kobolds, all cloaked and carrying spears. When they saw Grit approaching, they turned to him and the human dutifully returned to her post, leaving them alone.

One of their number cautiously approached Grit and the rest followed as if it were their nature to work together as one unit. Grit had been in this situation before. It was either up to his little brother, the Ranger Nitwit who kept watch as a fellow City Guard, or the would-be Cleric Skiviks who worked at the Sage's Guild. This time, it was Grit's turn to answer. The messenger from the Tribe of the Kobolds of the Silver Sun usually traveled with a small pack of four, perhaps five of his skinny reptilian brethren. So this group was nothing unusual. It was not until she let her cowl fall that Grit had reason for surprise.

It was not the typical messenger but one of the princesses! The good princess! Princess Pooky! Proud and pink-nosed with rose-colored eyes and lipstick to match, she gazed at Grit with relief. The Grand Poobah had six children and Pooky was by far the sweetest of them all. Adventurous, curious, and spirited, it was in her nature to come all this way to Highwind, but... it was not in her position! She should not be here at all! The Grand Poobah would have never agreed to this! Which meant... she had come in secret.

"Grit!" she smiled as she clasped her claws and tried to smile, but something was troubling her and the smile did not emerge. "I come bearing an important missive from the Grand Poobah!" This was unusual as most of the missives came from one of the Grand Poobah's underlings, not the Great Kobold himself! "A terrible plague is causing many creatures near our village to suffer and soon it will come our way too! We have no Clerics as we have no god to call for aid. Thus, it is up to you, Nitwit, and Skiviks to find us an adventuring band that will come to our rescue! Preferably one with experience in curing curses for the plague is no normal source of tragedy, but something enchanted and beyond our village's ability to fight! But nor can we pack up and move for there are dangers everywhere in Shandra's Evergreen! Oh, Grit! What are we to do?!"

Grit had never seen Princess Pooky cry. Nor had anyone outside of her family that he knew. It was a pitiful sight for Pooky truly cared about Kobolds and animals. Like Grit's little brother, Pooky was closer to leaving the evilness that had corroded the morals of the Kobolds behind as Grit had. Grit understood immediately that the war between Good and Evil in his own village was still quite well underway. Why remain Evil if the dragons we worship will never aid us, some ask. Why walk the path of Goodness if we cannot rely on Goodness itself and the neighbors who claim to be Good people? The Tribe of the Silver Sun was on a pinnacle and able to fall back to their old ways or embrace the new. This cursed plague would help decide their fate.

Princess Pooky continued. "We think it's a curse because we found a ritual site in the woodlands, not far from our village! There was a treestump covered in the blood of young animals, not the kind you hunt but the kind you leave alone. They were slain cruelly - with this knife!" Princess Pooky produced a dagger that might as well have been a shortsword for a Kobold - it was white and made for maliciousness. Having no education in the ways of religon, Grit needed Princess Pooky to tell him of its origin. "Oh, don't you see, Grit? White knives with this design are used only by one people in all of Shandra's Evergreen! The servants of the Maiden of Pain! She's come for us, Grit! Come to curse us from our eggs to our eldest!"

She reached deep into her pack and withdrew a large bone scrollcase sealed with wax on both ends. "The Grand Poobah commands any of the three of you to find allies to come and aid us! That missive speaks of our request and the promise of reward too! Someone will have to bring this fellowship out of Highwind and into Shandra's Evergreen and to our village, which means you must find trustworthy people! Our entire village depends on it, Grit!"

"Lastly, in our search for the Silver Dragon, we have crafted three silver charms." One of the Kobolds approached and pulled them from his bag. There were three simple tokens bound by leather cords. "These will glow when in the vicinity of silver dragon blood which means if any of you come across Charmsring, you'll know him by their glow! Oh, we know its a longshot, but what else can we do? Evil has failed us and now Goodness is put to the test. For the sake of our tribe, the Grand Poobah commands you do these things, but me? I beseech you, Grit! If anyone can do it, you can!"

And with those words, Princess Pooky placed her cute snout under her cowl and slowly began the journey back to the Village of the Silver Sun. Grit had one long evening to consider her words before his shift began the next afternoon.

* * *​

Now at the Adventurers' Guild...

Grit the Fighter, Skiviks the would-be Cleric, Nitwit the Ranger, and Gromash the Captain of the Guard stand just outside the Adventurers' Guild - the huge inn and tavern dedicated to adventurers from all corners of Sharseya. It is loud and music-filled with the sounds of shouting and laughter, singing and the clinking of mugs. Gromash the Terrible holds the peace by his gaze and stature alone for even novice adventurers knew he had taken down ogres bare-handed and slain a giant in single combat to right the wrong of an elderly crone. The only thing greater than the wemic's presence is his reputation. His furry features wrinkle as he asks Nitwit.

"You... require leaves of absence in order to aid your village?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Nitwit hops up and down. "See, uh, sir, there's this bad, bad, cursey-plague thingie that might get the whole tribe unless we can find help! Our Grand Poobah will pay!"

"He sure will!" Skiviks declares confidently. "Leon the Sage, my master at the Sage's Guild, says the plague is definitely from Loviatar's bunch, which means it can't be treated like a common plague. But what we all don't get is... why us? What'd we ever do to the Ice Queen? We're just simple Kobolds trying to get our people to live in Highwind and be responsible Good-hearted citizens, sir!"

Gromash snarls. "Evil does not choose its victims out of ability or respect, but out of opportunity. Your people are there and cannot fight back. That is enough for the vile likes of Loviatar's kind."

Nitwit folds his claws. "Does... does that mean you'll, uh, give Grit an' I leaves? We rilly wanna serve Highwind an' find Charmsring, sure as stones, but our families come first!"

"Aye, aye, your leaves are granted. Grit, Nitwit, aid your tribe as my elders aided my savage people when we were forced to roam the Badlands as your people do now. May you overcome your challenges, and if Mielikki and Saint Cuthbert will it, may your tribe join the people in Highwind with pride and much productivity." Nitwit and Skiviks cheer and do a little dance of joy as only small reptilians can.

Skiviks raises his claw high. "Captain, sir? Here we are with a tavern just full of adventurers, but we don't knows one from the other!"

"There," Gromash points into the Adventurers' Guild. "I would start with him."

"Huh?"

"Who?"

"There," Gromash points again after lifting all three Kobolds up to his high shoulder in a single swipe. As the Kobolds stare down the path of his mighty arm and over the heads of many seated people, they see a young and well-built human wearing fine armor and examining a shield with the device of a pegasus upon it. "I would start with him. That is Count Brendoran Killaneson Sarabina." Then he repeats it a few times until Nitwit is able to say it. "His party is called the Wayward Wanderers. I believe they have strong reason to detest the Maiden of Pain and all of them are goodhearted."

"Even the big kitties with 'em?" Skiviks asks.

Gromash gives a rare grin. "Even the big kitties. I know my kitties," he bares his fangs.

"I'm sure ya do! What are we waitin' for? Let's go, fellas! Thank ya, Captain sir!"

And off they went!