Chapter 1: A Wizard's Amulet

The backlit orcs prove to be difficult targets to hit, but Faionn cleverly enchants the two remaining to glow for you. Monaghan finds this particularly useful as his sword stabs right into one, and the second archer finds two arrows in its chest. Both topple down dead, joining the third.

End of Combat

Corian cries out that you need to hurry to the town! Galdar hoists up the wizard with one arm and puts him on his feet, and the two wait impatiently for those on the hill to return. You are still two hours from the town itself, and can hardly afford any more ambushes. The thoughts of fresh food, warm baths, and knowledgeable healers are tantalizing.

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As you approach the village proper, passing the outlying farmhouses, you are stopped by an imposing man with a grim expression. He is arrayed in well-used chain mail, his reddish-brown hair pulled back away from his face and his heavy green cloak swept back. A woman in chain mail and two town guards holding spears and shields, wearing green surcoats with a small silver bowl emblazoned on the left breast, accompany him. The man lifts his left hand, motioning you to stop. You notice that his right arm ends in a cruel scar and that he has no right hand, certainly lost in some horrible manner. In a well-worn scabbard, a bastard sword rests against his hip. He calls to the party in a commanding voice, "Announce yourselves and state your purpose."

Corian steps forward and announces, "I am Corian of Fareme, employer to these men and women. We seek the Tomb of Eralion, and mean to bring no trouble to your town. We also seek shelter, and reprieve from the orcs outside your walls" to which the guard scowls.

Nebbleshuven says, "My companions slew three orcs two hours down the road just over the rise of a hill. If you want, I can go back and retrieve their corpses for proof. I'll just need a wagon and a mule."

"I take it you’ve met with them recently." Ryenne pipes up, sensing the disdain for the pig-faced brutes.

"We’ve been dogged by them for days. And a wizard…"

"Aye, we've seen them around. Getting closer and closer to the city," the guard says, but admits no more. He casts an untrusting eye to the rest of the party.

Nebbleshuven looks from the guards to the rest of his group, wondering what needs to be said to end this standoff.

Nebbleshuven straightens up and announces himself. "I'm Nebbleshuven. I'm here to aid Corian in his quest and slay as many orcs as I am able, for they killed my parents and all the adults in the village of Greenhaven."

"Ryenne, servant of Thyr. I go where he wills.

There was another; Olaf of Two Brooks. Slain by the wizard and his orc lieutenants two nights ago. We came across a family which had been killed also."

Faionn was tense at the uneasy standoff, but relaxes as Nebble and Ryenne introduce themselves. "I am Faionn, druidess of Dun Eamon. As my employer states, we would be grateful for your hospitality." She gives a small bow, imagining such a gesture would be respectful anywhere.

Monaghan performs a sweeping bow with rehearsed grace.

"Monaghan MacDuff, of Sept MacDuff of the Stoneheart foothill clans, son to Dougal and Blaire MacDuff, at your service, my good man! I quest with this company for the opportunity to win renown for my family, and perhaps a deal of plunder to cart back to my dear Ma and Pa. We are fletchers of humble means, you see, and I would like to see them retire in ease rather than work their fingers to the bone in their twilight years."

"Does every passerby announce themselves like this?" Ryenne calls out in question.

"Have you some reason to bar our entry?"

She looks to the maimed man then. A warrior, surely. But why was he here? What did it mean that the maimed were pressed into service in defense of this place.

Datura was busy digging wax out of her ear but sees now that it is her turn to speak to the unpleasant man.

"Greetings! I am Datura Wrightii of the gnomish folk! I'm sure you're well aware of my marvelous exploits, won't you be a good man and take us to an inn?"

Galdar finally steps forth and introduces himself. "Galdar of the Church of Muir, companion to Corian. I seek to aid him in his task." Curt, as the man often is.

The maimed guard looks at the lot of you as though you were all lying. "We've had our issues with the orcs, and those that would align with them. But looks like we've got holy-folk of both Thyr and Muir. Must be our lucky day." He whistles sarcastically. "But I can see that you are trustworthy folks, and though I don't know anything about this keep, I can tell you that you'll be best served by heading to the Tavern of the Three Kegs; but don't forget to stop at the Temple of Freya, our town's patron goddess. It would be rude not to pay your respects.

The man gestures that you can pass, and the town of Fairhill is open to you. Corian sighs in relief, having seemed quite nervous in the guard's presence. But Ryenne had asked a good question... what had this town so on edge?

End of Chapter One