I love D-3 Games for giving me a chance to swim around in their rich fantasy world. Even before they won the Golden Genius award for writing from the Golden Pawn, I knew I had walked into a world of wonder. Jason Yarnell and his writers are publishing some of the richest content I've seen, which made it easy to build characters to interact with that world. I've taken a few liberties from the Dark Waters adventure since I'm writing a story rather than a game. I hope they don't mind too much. The original authors of the adventure are David McGuire and Jason Yarnell, kudos to both.

P.S. I am eagerly searching for Beta readers for this and for my other stories. I am just getting started in this writing business so I also appreciate honest feedback.

Chapter 1

Martin grabbed the wagon's bench in a panic. He had been unbalanced and nearly thrown over the side when the wagon lurched sideways as one of it's wheels had dropped into a mud pool. Martin had been dozing so the sudden movement had caught him by surprise and caused him to fling his crossbow out of his hand and into the mud. He looked over the edge and groaned. The bow was sunk deep, its mechanism completely covered - it would take him at least an hour to fully clean it. An unsympathetic chuckle sounded at his back and he turned to scowl at the wagon driver.

"You could have warned me," Martin grumbled.

Jurian Widebelly smiled at his unhappy son, "And disturb yer beauty sleep?" He spit over the side. "Serves you right for sleeping when yer supposed to be guardin' anyhow. Now go get yer bow, it's not gonna get any closer." He clucked to the horses to pull harder. Clarion barony was always muddy this time of year, so he couldn't stop moving or he might get mired. They had already dug out twice this morning.

Martin frowned at his father. His black hair and blue eyes matched Martin's own and Widebelly claimed to have once been as trim and muscled as Martin, though that was hard to imagine given his current form. He had been called Widebelly, with reason, for most of Martin's life. Still, the older man had once been a sergeant in the Duke of Jisan's army so he had to have been in reasonable shape at some point and he drove his sons like a man who once knew discipline. A bad fall from a windy battlement had ended his military career and forced him to take over his father-in-law's merchant caravan.

"Could you at least pull up at the next dry spot?" Martin asked, without much hope. Widebelly just shrugged. Martin groaned and threw himself over to the ground, his boots sinking into mud over his ankles. He groaned again and trudged back towards his crossbow, his boots slurping with each step. By the time he reached it Garrett's wagon had pulled alongside.

Garrett grinned down at his older brother, "Nice day for a walk, eh?" His grey eyes twinkled beneath a shock of sandy hair. Garrett was several inches shorter than Martin, but just as muscled, and with the same long nose and strong chin. Garrett's mouth was constantly curled in a smile while Martin wore an almost perpetual frown.

Martin considered saying something rude in reply, but Garrett's young bride Jenna was riding beside him studiously looking in the other direction. Her presence had put a damper on all their conversations in the few weeks she had been with them. It was sometimes difficult to remember to watch his language, and it was always annoying to self-censor. She was the first female to travel with the caravan since Martin and Garrett's mother had died almost eight years prior. Jenna had brought many changes into the routines of the small caravan. She was city raised and could not stand the typical rough way they lived. She was extraordinarily self-possessed and insistent for a girl of 17, and very fastidious. She had scrubbed down all three wagons before she would permit her own supplies to be loaded aboard - as a potioner she insisted that dirt was the enemy of her craft. It drove Martin crazy.

Garrett was a couple of years younger than Martin, 19 to Martin's 21, yet it had been Garrett who was ready to settle down. Jenna was the third daughter of a potioner in Sesley, capitol city of Jisan duchy. Her two older sisters were already working for their father and had started families of their own and there was simply no room for her any longer. Martin had been surprised and angered when Widebelly arranged for him to marry the girl and had threatened to leave the caravan until Garrett had stepped in and offered to marry her instead. Garrett had been taken by her dark brown eyes and hair and, even now, had trouble keeping his eyes off of her. Jenna accepted his attentions with patience and kindness, but all could tell that she wasn't truly happy in the caravan. That also made Martin furious as he felt Garrett deserved better.

Martin looked up at his brother and grumped, "I was looking for a reason to polish my crossbow." He reached down and tugged it out of the mud.

Garrett laughed, "Come on up" and offered his hand.

"Ware your feet!" cried Jenna, "I don't want mud all in the footwell."

"Mmm, no thanks. I think I'll just check on the twins," Martin frowned and waved him on.

"Suit yourself," shrugged Garrett and snapped the reins on the backs of his oxen. Only Garrett was able to handle the beasts and, as if by extension, Jenna. Widebelly's large wooden wagon was pulled by a set of four horses, the twins' canvas wagon by a pair. Garrett somehow preferred the temperamental but powerful oxen to pull his own canvas wagon. Yet another way in which they were different, thought Martin.

Martin stood by the side of the road and waited for the third and final wagon in the caravan to reach him. "Gabby" Donald, the taciturn guard, was riding along the far side on his own horse, listening to the twins argue about some nonsense thing or other. Liam and Lawrence were both in their early 30s but behaved together like a pair of young boys. Their banter was constant, as was their humor, and Gabby could often be found nearby letting their noise counteract his silence. The twins had been with Widebelly for over a decade and Martin considered them family. Liam was a cobbler and Lawrence did other leather work. Both of them had large frames covered with muscle and wore their blond hair clipped close. They had pale eyes, but Liam's leaned towards the green and Lawrence's to the blue. It was Lawrence that noticed Martin standing there and hailed him.

"Ho! Settle somethin' fer us," called Lawrence.

"Let me up and I'll try," said Martin. Lawrence grinned and reached down his hand to the younger man, helping him onto the wagon.

"A'right," started Lawrence, "lemme start."

"Ho no!" said Liam, "I'll be goin first. He'll poison yer mind with his nonsense."

"Hey! You fear my truth'll be so clean he won't need to listen to your clatter," countered Lawrence.

"Bullocks, you clod. Your talk is kin to cess water. Shut up and give me my say." Liam elbowed his brother in the arm.

Martin leaned forward and raised an eyebrow at Gabby. The older guard just shrugged and shook his head.

Gabby had been with Widebelly since before Martin was born. He was a former soldier and a good ten years older than the twins. It was hard to really guess his age as he kept his head and face shaved, but his stubble was clearly grey. He was short and stocky with a wide face and a stubby nose that had been broken more than once. Gabby had maintained his writ of carry by visiting the capitol and paying a carriage fee each year, so he alone freely wore a sword upon his hip. A round shield hung from his horse's saddle at this left knee. Widebelly had trained both his sons at sword work but neither had ever served in the military so had never earned a writ. Like all the men in the caravan, however, they did have weapons hidden discreetly nearby.

The twins were still jostling about who would get to argue first when Widebelly's voice sounded from the front of the caravan "Boy! Get yourself up here! Now!"

Martin stood and tried to see what was happening, but the two forward wagons blocked his vision.

"Here, to me," said Gabby, pulling up close.

"Excuse me boys," said Martin, stepping across the twins and dropping behind Gabby on his horse. Gabby gave a kick and rode towards the front where Widebelly had stopped his wagon. "What's happening?"

"Do you smell that?" asked Widebelly.

Martin sniffed the air and detected smoke on the wind. "What of it? Aren't we near a farmstead? Perhaps they're burning something."

"Don't be an ass, boy!" Widebelly snapped. "They'd have to be burning a whole house down for us to smell it from here." He stood and yelled to the following wagons, "Prep your blades boys! We've got trouble ahead."

Martin scrambled up and across his father. He looked down at the crossbow in his hand but it was far too fouled to be reliable. He dropped it on the floor of the wagon perch then reached below the seat to grab his sword. Widebelly slapped the reins against the horses' backs and the wagon jerked forward, throwing Martin against the bench. "Damn, Widebelly! You trying to kill me?" He pulled himself to his seat and glared.

"Shut your mouth and pay attention." Widebelly looked down at the discarded crossbow, "Damn shame you had to choose today to be an idiot." Martin could make no response so he turned his eyes forward to see Gabby ride ahead with his shield on his arm. Martin could only hold on tight as the wagon bounced and lurched down the muddy road.

After a few minutes he saw Gabby turn his horse to the side, allowing Widebelly to catch up. Cresting a hill he saw that Widebelly was indeed correct, a farmstead was spread out before them with the main farmhouse and scattered homes engulfed in flames. The wagon continued over and gained speed as it went downhill. He tried to get a good view of what was happening, but it was difficult given that the bucking wagon kept throwing him into the air. He could see that there was a collection of men in front of the barn and they seemed to be loading up a wagon against the barn doors. As Widebelly's large, wooden merchant wagon careened down the hill the men by the barn took notice. The majority started to run, leaving one man at the door. Martin didn't understand that until he saw a flash of fire and the wagon by the barn began to smoke.

The last man began to run as Widebelly's wagon rolled into the cleared area between the buildings. Martin launched off and started to give chase when a sound grabbed his attention - someone in the barn was screaming. Garrett's wagon rattled up, drowning out all other sounds, so Martin took several steps closer to the barn to listen and heard other voices join the first. He turned around to Widebelly and shouted "There's people in the there!"

Widebelly looked at him in horror. Gabby was beside him and nodded, dismounting. Beyond him, Martin saw Garrett loose a crossbow bolt at the fleeing man from the seat of his still moving wagon and, out of the corner of his eye, Martin saw the man fall. Garrett tossed his bow to his wife, jumped to the ground and ran towards the enemy. Martin yelled to him, but just then the twins rattled up overwhelming his voice. Gabby was already running to the burning wagon so Martin dropped his sword and joined him. They both started to push, but the wagon wouldn't budge.

Widebelly was standing on his seat, trying to see what was happening. "No good boys! They broke the wheels."

Martin looked around the side and yelled, "Damnation!" Widebelly was right, they had cracked the spokes. "We'll need to drag it. Liam, Lawrence, bring your horses!" He ran to unhitch Widebelly's team, Gabby beside him. Running to the far side of the wagon he saw Jenna desperately cranking the crossbow Garrett had tossed her. "Where's Garrett?" he yelled.

"Fighting." she called back. Martin looked around and saw Garrett had sword in hand and was battling an armed and armored man. The enemy had a bolt stabbing out of his hip, which was probably the only reason Garrett was still alive as he was definitely outclassed. Martin knew yelling to him now would only distract him so he forced himself to turn away and back to the horses.

With no wagons moving, the screams could clearly be heard from inside the barn and were rising in volume and panic. The broken wagon was fully in flame now and Martin could smell burning oil - they wouldn't have much time. He could hear the twins yelling to each other to hurry and Widebelly was making his way off his perch, still holding his reins. Gabby and Martin worked feverishly. They had just released the horses from the yoke when Martin heard a scream from behind him. He turned to see Jenna stand and loose the crossbow. He looked for Garrett and saw the armed enemy standing over Garrett's writhing form. He had been bringing his sword back to make the killing blow when Jenna's bolt found it's home in his chest.

Martin started to step towards his brother but Widebelly caught his arm and yanked him back, "She's got him, Marty. I need you here." He saw Jenna climb off the wagon and run towards Garrett. Martin froze, not knowing what to do. "Wake up!" yelled Widebelly directly in his ear. Martin turned to the horses, his chest tightening with fear.

Widebelly slapped the horses into movement. He positioned them before the burning wagon then threw the chain back to Martin. The twins were hitching their two horses to the front of Widebelly's four as Martin worked to hook the chain to the very front of the tongue. The heat was intense, making him feel like his skin was cooking off. The barn itself was burning now and the screams from inside wrenched at his stomach.

"Ready!" he heard Widebelly yell.

Martin twisted the linking bolt into place. "Got it!" he yelled back as he stepped out of the way.

The four men each took position as Widebelly yelled "Haw!" The harnesses almost squealed as the horses started forward, then stopped. Hooves dug into the ground. Widebelly continued to shout and the men pulled on bridles. Horses grunted. Leather and chain creaked and cried. Finally the horses inched forward. Then they leapt forward, almost as if the ground had decided to let go of the crippled wagon. Martin felt his feet lift off the ground. He dug his heels in and pulled back hard on the bridle as the others did the same.

The horses paused and stomped. Their eyes were wide and only Widebelly's control kept them from fleeing. Widebelly was yanking back at the reins desperately as Martin grabbed for the chain. With shaking fingers he loosed the bolt. The horses whinnied in panic and Widebelly and the others were pulling back on bridles as hard as they could. "Go!" Martin yelled, as the bolt came free. Widebelly and the others led the team away from the burning wagon, barely keeping them from running.

Martin turned his attention to the barn and saw the doors were fully in flame, as was the whole front of the building. He looked around desperately for anything he could use to pull the doors open without touching them and saw his sword lying in the mud where he had dropped it. He snatched it up and threw the leather lacings that would normally tie the sword to his belt up and over the hilt of the sword, securing it in the scabbard. He turned back to the barn door and hooked the crosspiece of the hilt through the door handle and pulled. The door swung out part way, then collapsed towards him. He leapt aside as the burning wood hit the ground and broke apart, scattering the ground with smoking debris.

Martin dashed through the opening but all he saw was smoke, the people inside having fled to the rear. "To me!" he yelled. "Everyone! Come to me!" Like ghosts emerging from a fog they appeared, running at him from the far side of the barn. Men and women, some carrying children, moved past him coughing. Martin kept calling, as that seemed to be all that they were following, it being impossible to see. Each time he drew a breath to shout he felt like his lungs were being scrubbed with a brush, but he still kept shouting. The people were stumbling out now, or crawling. Martin noticed Gabby was next to him so he stepped further in and started grabbing the weak and lost, shoving them back towards the older guard. In just moments his own voice was unable to reach a shout anymore, each attempt resulting in a fit of coughing. His eyes were tearing and he found himself trying to reach for people as he could no longer see. He felt someone tugging at him. He looked back and realized he could barely see the barn door opening anymore. Gabby was a shadow next to him, pulling him out. His head was spinning but somehow he made his way outside to be grabbed by other arms and dragged away.

When Martin could think straight again he found himself lying on the grass trying to cough up his own liver. There was a concert of people wheezing and weeping surrounding him. His vision began to clear and he saw a scar of dark smoke disfiguring the clear blue sky. He looked around him at the poor wretches and wondered how many had been lost. He then saw Jenna. "By the goddess!" he exclaimed and sat up.

Jenna was kneeling beside Garrett and had blood up to her elbows. She had cut open a leg of his trousers and was working some kind of powder into an ugly, bleeding gash. Garrett's eyes were closed and he wasn't reacting at all to her fingers digging deeply into his thigh. Martin rolled onto to his knees and crawled over to them. He tried to ask a question but all that come out was sooty hacking. She hissed at him "Don't dare cough in the wound!" so he turned away and sat, looking at the distressing scene before him.

Martin could see nothing exceptional about the farmstead - it appeared as many did, a main house and a barn with other houses scattered nearby. The people they'd rescued all looked to be farmers wearing homespun in simple colors. None had weapons or a stitch of armor. Some suffered with burns and all were covered in black soot and were coughing violently. The women and children were crying, the tears making tracks down their blackened faces while the men stared as their lives went up in flames. Whatever food they had stored for the coming winter was now gone. There was a livestock shed with a large pen, but the cows that should have been grazing were slaughtered and left. A pair of dead horses were still tethered to the side of the now wholly engulfed barn. Even the henhouse had been flattened and dead fowl littered the ground. Whoever did this was not after wealth as what little these people had was either burning or lying dead. It made no sense.

Widebelly stepped in front of him and handed him a cup. "Here's some water to wash the ash outta yer throat."

Martin accepted it with a grateful nod and drank, feeling relieved to swish and spit the soot out of his mouth. His lungs still burned, but he no longer felt like someone had been feeding him sand. Looking up at Widebelly he asked, "What happened here?"

Widebelly was staring over Martin's shoulder to where Garrett lay. "Murder, boy. That's all I can make of it. These people aren't in shape fer questions yet, but I saw nothin' bein' carried off. They just came and killed." He shook his head and spat on the ground. "May the goddess bring em what they brought to here." Widebelly poked his chin towards Jenna, "How is he?"

Jenna replied tersely, "I think I've stopped the bleeding, but he's lost so much already. I need to bandage him tight to keep it from opening again. We'll need to get him on the wagon gently and he'll need shelter. We can't stay here." Martin looked at her from the corner of his eye. Her face was tense and serious, but not panicked. She was packing some other concoction into the wound now that looked almost like mud. Martin looked away. He wasn't normally squeamish, but worry and ash were working on his stomach already. His eyes fell on a body still lying in the clear area between the burning buildings.

"What's say we find out who these bastards are?" as he pushed himself to his feet. Widebelly followed his glance and nodded. The two men started walking with Gabby quickly falling in behind them. The dead man was young, maybe a few years older than Martin. His clothes were clean and well kept, as was the chain armor he wore. Gabby kicked one of the man's shiny black leather boots and grunted. "Yeah," said Martin, "Not your typical bandit." He kneeled down and began riffling through the man's clothes. A few coins, a bit of jerky, a clean handkerchief. "They must have a camp or something close by. He's not got much on him and no pack."

"The armor's good, cept where Jenna poked a hole," said Widebelly. "It might fit Garrett. We wanna peek under anyhow." Martin nodded and leaned over to grab the crossbow bolt still sticking from the man's chest. He twisted and pulled and the bolt came out with a wet crack. He tossed it aside and he and Gabby worked to peel the chainmail shirt off. Beneath was a thick wool padded shirt soaked in blood. Laying against the man's chest was a small leather sack hanging from a chain around his neck. Martin stripped it off and looked inside. He pulled out a folded, bloodied piece of paper and handed it to Widebelly. His fingers dug in again and pulled out a small metal amulet.

"Looks like our bandit found religion," said Martin, holding up his find for the others to see. Gabby sniffed and Widebelly glanced at it from over the paper that he was carefully trying to pull open. Martin turned the small holy symbol around in his fingers. It was unusual to find symbols of Asuna on anyone here in the west, and this one was exceptionally finely made. The silver alone made it valuable, but the craftsmanship was excellent. His brow furrowed, "You don't think these men are Burning Light, do you?"

"Those maniacs this far west?" said Widebelly. "Let us hope not!" The Asuna fanatics that made up the Burning Light were known to kill the faithful for not saying their prayers with the proper cadence or, at least, that's what Martin had heard. Like most of the people of the west he adhered to the old faith of the goddess. The few Asunites, like Gabby, were considered an oddity this far from the king's seat. The Burning Light mainly kept to the eastern Duchy of Gwen and pestered those near them. None had ever been spotted west of the Blood Wall. Widebelly echoed his thoughts, "No, it's too much a hike for them to be here. We have three duchies 'tween here and there. We'd have heard."

Martin closed his eyes and thought back to his days studying under the cartographer in Sesley. Widebelly had undercounted by two duchies, but Len and Sanneth were both small. Gwen was at the far northeast of the kingdom of Tursh. They were in Jisan duchy, which was in the far southwest. He shook his head, there was no way these were Burning Light, it was just too far. "What then? A new batch of crazies raised local?" he asked.

"Dunno," said Widebelly. "But who'er they are, they got a plan." He showed them the paper he had unfolded. It was a hand drawn map of Clarion Barony with wide swaths along both sides of the narrow Theriss river that were shaded in. Within the shaded area several farmsteads had been marked and crossed out, including the one where they now stood.

"Looks like they are making their way up the river, farm by farm," said Martin. "So what now? Do we head to the next farm?"

Widebelly shook his head. "Not with this group taggin' behind. We need to get 'em to Douglan, that's their liege. Got a friend, Rengel, there. He'll point us right."

Martin nodded. Widebelly always had a friend wherever they were headed. He had been traveling the duchy for over twenty years as a merchant, and before that as a soldier captain for the duke. He knew someone everywhere. "So, what's in Douglan? And how far?" asked Martin.

"You don't remember it?" asked Widebelly.

"It's been years. I was studying coopering last year. We didn't come here the year before that. Before then I was studying carpentry." Widebelly believed his caravan should offer more than just goods. He had sent his sons through various apprenticeships by calling in a series of favors. Martin knew how to scribe, read maps, make cabinets, and repair wagons. Garrett could blow glass and tinker and, to Martin's amusement, sew. Neither were very good, but the villages they visited often never saw better. They had also picked up various skills and tricks from the various merchants and travelers they journeyed with from time to time - they both knew some leatherworking from the twins. Garrett could pick a lute, after a fashion, but Martin had the voice. Together they could manage a decent song.

Martin gazed over to where Jenna was now wrapping a clean white bandage around Garrett's leg. She had apparently ripped up one of her muslin sheets, a gift from her father. Garrett still had not stirred.

"Hey! You listenin to me boy?" Widebelly's voice grabbed his attention.

"Sorry," Martin mumbled.

"You ask a question, you need to listen to the answer." Widebelly growled. Martin nodded. Widebelly sighed and softened, "She's takin' good care of him. We can't do better. We go to Douglan 'cause it's closest and he'll find a roof there. If we leave within the hour, we may make it before dark."

"Then let's get started," said Martin, standing.