This doesn't take place in any established DnD setting. Any similarities are purely coincidental, as I'm not very familiar with all the settings. I know this is peppered with "gamer terms," but I found them simple to use and appropriate for the tone of the story. After all, when I'm playing DnD my characters often drop the same kind of phrases.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dungeons and Dragons. Some of the names are taken from the Player's Handbook, and others from my friends' characters. I'm currently using the dieties from the PHB, though I'll use others if I need to.

Chapter 1: Our Introduction

As much as I hate to admit it, I work best in a team. My specialty is with the spiked chain, and I am particularly talented at tripping and disarming my foes. However, I am not as strong as many other warriors, and cannot deal the kind of damage some combats require. I need to travel with a heavy fighter if I am to be truly effective. Luckily, my quick eye, ready ear, skill as a trapfinder, and diplomatic training make me desirable to an adventuring party. Therefore, I was confident when I entered the Smiling Apple, an inn and eatery at the edge of Barnhill.

Despite the provincial-sounding name, Barnhill is a thriving metropolis. Located where the Kline River meets the Azure Mountains, it has all the elements to make a prosperous port city. The river makes the surrounding hill country very fertile, and many large ranches and farms surround the area. Minerals and ore are excavated from the mountains and many famous smiths have found it an easy place to settle. Naturally, the boat traffic on the river makes the city a thriving place for all types of trade.

Certainly, the success of the Smiling Apple matched that of the city. The common room was full of every sort of traveler – be it the most affluent merchant or the most ominous mercenary. I approached the billboard where job advertisements were pinned and idly wondered how I would be classified by the average patron. Indeed, my weapon was an obvious mark of my trade. However, I did not smell quite as bad as many of my compatriots and, despite my rough and tumble lifestyle, I take exceptional care of my cloths.

Unfortunately, none of the jobs posted were of particular interest to me. I found it difficult to lend my services as a single mercenary, and had not worked for many weeks. I either wanted something long-term or something that would offer great rewards. Dejectedly, I sat at the bar and ordered some wine. I wanted to sit and think about my options, but I was interrupted by a loud, nasal voice.

"I don't like this one here, so let's cross this off the list. I do like these two, though, but I truly wish we had another man."

I turned in the direction of the voice and wondered why I hadn't noticed a noise that annoying before. I was even more surprised when I saw the person who had made the noise. The man sat between two others and was discussing a number of papers that he'd obviously ripped from the bulletin board. He was dressed in the robes of a wizard or sorcerer. He was very thin and pale, and I noticed he cut his dark hair short like a human. His pointed ears betrayed his Elvin heritage, which was rare in this city populated mostly by humans and dwarves. I noted with interested that not only was he an elf, but a gray elf. It was uncommon for me to find one like myself in this part of the world and I assumed that he had traveled very far. I listened with some amusement to his conversation.

"We have the beatstick, the healing, and an arcane caster, but we still need someone to find and disable traps."

He talked about his companions as if they were variables in some delicate equation. Still, neither of them seemed to mind. To the elf's right sat a husky, red-haired dwarf with a battle axe tied to his back. He looked decidedly disinterested, as if he'd heard this conversation in the past. To the elf's left sat a lovely russet-haired human girl brandishing the holy symbol of Pelor. She listened attentively, but seemed far too gentle to ever seem offended.

To this day I do not know why I walked to their table. I like to think it was only because my talents suited their needs perfectly. However, I know deep in my heart that other forces were involved. Either way, I did walk over to their table. I placed my hand on one of the mage's bony shoulders and told him, "I couldn't help but overhear you – you are a rather loud man, after all. If all you need is someone to find and disable traps, then I think I can more than suit your needs." I leaned down to examine the advertisements, fully aware of my low-cut shirt. However, the mage did not seem aware as he began to question me immediately.

"How long have you been a mercenary? Are you also a good negotiator? How are you at surviving in the wilderness? I can see you wield the chain – are you a tripper?"

I gave him a cold stare – an expression that I used quite frequently. I sat down at the table and took a long sip from my wine, which I had brought with me. It took every ounce of restraint to look unamused as he waited for my reply. "Ten years. Yes. Fine. Yes." I inwardly smiled at the perturbed look on his face. Gray elves were known for being haughty, but it seemed my attitude unnerved him.

He looked uncertain for a moment, and I was afraid that he would reject me, but I was saved by the dwarf. He rose his mug of ale as if in a toast and said in a gravely voice, "Well, that rounds out the party. Welcome aboard." He then proceeded to gulp down half the mug. "My name is Drathen Ungart, and as you've probably guessed, I'm the beef of the group." He smiled broadly, as if he was very satisfied with that title.

The young girl (I was surprised how young she looked – maybe eighteen) nodded shyly. "My name is Laura Grimes. I am a cleric of Pelor. It is a pleasure to meet you." She held out one dainty hand for me to shake.

Finally the elf introduced himself. He rose his head up in the air, as if to prove he was just as pretentious as me. "My name is Karlindel Maginivelrinel, wizard extraordinaire, at your service." He glanced at my hand for a brief instant, as if wondering if he should shake it. He then looked away, apparently thinking better of it. For a moment, I wondered if my austere nature frightened him. He quickly changed topics and pointed to the two leafs of parchment that remained before him. Others were piled on the table, but apparently he was not interested in any of those jobs. "We are currently deciding between these two jobs. Each has its own merits and dra – "

I interrupted him by snatching the papers off the table. "My name is Anastrianna Galanodel, thank you for asking." I gave the papers a brief look. One advertised a bodyguard job and the other an exploratory mission. Well, I was sick of bodyguard jobs, so I threw the advertisements back on the table and said in my most disinterested tone, "The exploration of the Mirage at Drabble Mount would be my choice."

Karlindel picked up the papers and straitened them. If he was annoyed at my behavior, he hid it very well. "You must be very confident to decide on a job without looking at the details. But, very well. I have already looked at the details, and I think that the job is very suitable to our party. Unless, of course, either of you have any objections?"

Drathen shrugged his large shoulders. "Gar! We've looked at these so long – I don't care which one we pick. Let's just get our stuff and go!"

Laura nodded. I started to realize she must be either very quiet or very shy, or a combination of the two. No matter the reason, she was proving preferable to the other two, who I considered too obnoxious and loud. Just as I considered this fact, Drathen continued with his thunderous voice, "You're not gonna be unwill'en to help me now, are ya?" His dark brown eyes glared at me behind his thick eyebrows. "Karl's the only elf I've worked with, but I hear ya'll don't like ta get along with us Dwarven folk."

It was a long time since I had thought about that particular rivalry; I'd been away from home too long. "What you've heard is true – most elves of my kind do not associate with Dwarves. However, I don't care what you are as long as you can handle that axe of yours." I was about to ask him if I could trust him with that simple task, but I figured that would send him into a fine rage, and that was the last thing I needed. After all, he was more established in the group than me.

"Well, there'll be no trouble with that, then!"

I surreptitiously rolled my eyes at his boisterous manner. Although I made a show of not liking anyone, Drathen's lack of prejudice placed him firmly on my good side. I was even able to forgive his loud voice. There was, however, one more question I needed to ask. "So, are you newly formed, or did you recently loose your trapfinder?" The answer might determine whether I had made a mistake or not.

It was if I had laid a rotting corpse on the table. For a long while, it was if someone had cast Silence on us. Laura was the first to speak. Her large, blue eyes glistened with tears. I inwardly sighed, realizing there had already been a death in their party. "We are newly formed – we've only been on one mission together. Unfortunately, our trapfinder," she paused for a moment, "Matthew, wasn't quite as good at disarming traps as he thought he was."

Another silence reigned, but not for long. Karlindel pursed his lips and said in a voice that was obviously meant to lighten the mood, "He couldn't be blamed, really. From what I could see, the trigger was very well hidden. Bad luck. It shocks me to think that a cave that primitive would contain something that sophisticated. The Kobolds must have hired someone to do that – I can't imagine one of them having the kind of mental dexterity to conceive something so intricate." He continued to rant on and on, and I got the feeling he'd said this all before. Despite the seriousness of the topic, I found my mind drifting. Karlindel's voice blurred into a monotonous murmur in the background. I ordered another glass of wine and gazed into the fire that burned merrily at the far side of the common room. For the moment, I was content.