Chapter I

"Haw, haw!"

An orc snorted hideously at a disgusting joke about toadstool pies. This orc's name is Bob. So is his brothers, and the orc sitting next to him. The third one's name is Orc.

Bob 1 continued to laugh. Two other completely nameless orcs sat in the sidelines roasting a sheep. The nameless orcs lit a fire and twirled the sheep around laughing cruelly. That's when an arrow whizzed past Bob (both of them) and hit him in the back.

Nameless orc 2 whipped his head in both directions. Nothing visible. Another arrow whammed into the tree next to him. He picked up his giant mace and observed his surroundings. Mind you, orcs aren't the most observant creatures, so he still didn't see anything. This time, a crazy purple devil leaped out of the trees and hit him repeatedly over the head with a tree branch. He waved his hands around wildly, trying to knock her off. She retreated into the trees and Nameless orc flailed, running away.

Not completely stupid, Bob, Bob and Orc had noticed something was going on. Now I said something; they are still reasonably stupid.

Orc scratched his head. "Wha' happened to those other guys?" he tried to remember their names, but didn't, seeing as they didn't have any. Bob and Bob shrugged. Another shadow, this one more like a horse, slipped from the trees and cut at the ropes binding the sheep. It bleated, panicking. Bob stared over. So did Bob. Orc tried to follow their gaze but thought they were looking at a tree, and he stared, too. The Bob got up, and tried thinking. Failing miserably, he walked away. Bob followed him. Orc thought they found another pretty tree. He followed, too.

The sheep fell off the rope. The rope had been severed by a tiny purple donkey, about the size of a fox. When he grinned, you could see quite a few pointy teeth lining his mouth and two very large canines. His owner, the crazy purple devil, was like this, too. They were vampires. Or at least the donkey was. The devil had been taught vampire tools by her brother, yet another vampire.

"Cooper, you made a friend!" The devil clapped her hands. The sheep's eyes went wide and she flopped over, fainting dead away. A rustling announced the arrival of the next in the team; an elf, about fourteen, who had been shooting the arrows. "Kilrne, we'd better go."

The devil frowned. Then, she got an idea. She signaled into the trees, and a giant winged lizard (as much as it sounds like a dragon, it's not) emerged, setting the trees on fire as he brushed against them. Kilrne placed an asbestos blanket on the beast and then, with the help of Cooper, set the sheep on it.

A dragonborn then sneaked out of the trees. Shortly afterward, a pixie flew out, staggering under the weight of an extremely odd toddler.

"You're taking Gretzlynn next!" she wailed to no one in particular. Gretzlynn giggled and dribbled on her shirt, causing the pixie to drop her.

The dragonborn shuddered. "No way, not me. I can't stand that thing."

The pixie waited, hovering above the toddler. "I'm going to wait for someone to take her. I'm not."

Gretzlynn crawled over to Cooper, and hugged the tiny purple donkey. In return, he bit her boot and carried her upside down. The others sighed in relief. The pixie flew over to the elf's shoulder, extremely worn out from carrying the toddler.

"Hey, what's that?" the elf stopped. There was something moving in the trees. The dragonbron instinctively reached for her greatsword. Then a tiny head popped out of a bush.

Kilrne suddenly recognized it. "Tiamat!" she yelped, making the others stare at her. She shrugged. "My brother named his lemur Tiamat. That's her..." she motioned towards the little lemur, now puffing out her cheeks and bursting into flames.

The elf walked over and kneeled next to the little animal. "Why is she here, if she belongs to your brother?"

"I dunno, Beekie. Let's see." Kilrne wandered over and the lemur jumped onto her knee. She was not flaming anymore, so they could see a little pack on her back. But, unfortunately, the contents were burnt to a crisp. Kilrne threw up her hands. "When's he ever going to learn? Tiamat can't help herself." this wasn't actually true; Tiamat could help herself from bursting into flames, but she failed to realize that doing so would destroy her master's note. She flamed again sheepishly.

Beekie poured out the ash. "Nobody here has magic, do they?" she asked. The pixie frowned. "Gretzlynn does," but they all knew she couldn't help. Gretzlynn couldn't even talk yet. She knew one word, and that was 'Cooper'.

Cooper trotted up and dropped the small child next the the charred parchment. She grinned and reached for the ash, but then a genasi with flames for hair rushed over and picked her up before she could put some in her mouth.

"Thanks, Jerra," the elf sighed. Beekie was Gretzlynn's babysitter. But then Gretzlynn's eyes glowed, and she stared at the parchment. Jerra dropped her in surprise and she speed-crawled over to the ash paper, then rolled around in it til she was black. Well, she was a svirfneblin, deep gnome, so she was black already, but her hair and clothes were now indistinguishable from a black cat. Then, the paper glued itself back together, and she began rubbing the ash off on the dragonborn's leg, who recoiled.

The pixie snatched the paper. After a few seconds, her eyes went wide and she passed it on the Kilrne.

Dear Kilrne, I hope Tiamat

Doesn't burn this to a crisp. If she did, then you're probably not reading this, but I haven't put anything past you since you glued together a twenty-four billion piece shredded coloring book, so I'm sorry if Tiamat did ruin this.

I'm afraid Tyloar and D'lurry have gotten themselves kidnapped. We think maybe something minor such as put in jail, but you never know. When I say "we," I've met a crazy bounty hunter who'll help me find them. She, of course, just wants them for the bounty, but once we break them out I'm going to "accidentally" let them escape. She doesn't know we're brothers yet.

Anyway, Tiamat has a lousy sense of direction, so I'm hoping this got through to you. She will need a daily leaf of Dorf which I have also packed (my sincerest apologies, those have probably burnt too), until we meet up. I'm thinking the Hollow back at Asinvale.

Tornat

Kilrne looked up with an expressionless face. Her two younger brothers were always getting into trouble, and jail, for that matter, but this sounded more serious if they hadn't broken out yet. She turned to her friends. They had been reading over her shoulder. The pixie snatched it back and stuffed it in Kilrne's backpack.

"Thanks, Sarah," she said as the pixie zipped up to her shoulder again. The dragonborn grabbed the lemur, once again on fire, because nobody else dared touch it. She was a dragonborn, after all, so she wasn't burnt. It purred in her arms. The dragonborn had preferred nobody knew her name, but the word got out. Now, she solved the problem by smacking anyone to called her that. For now, they called her Princess. She was one, after all.

Sarah zipped ahead. "Where now?"

Kilrne looked up. It would be night soon. "To the Hollow."