Chapter 1 - Strange Happenings

Landi relaxed in the inn at Bri. She had been traveling aimlessly for months and a warm place to sit down and have a drink was welcome. While sitting at the bar the halfling took the opportunity to glance around the inn. It was fairly crowded. At one table a game of chance was being played; at the second there was a hushed conversation between three men; the third table was obscured by shadow, but she could make out the shape of two small individuals, about her size.

"You from around here?" a voice next to her startled her observations. Landi turned to see a man sitting next to her at the bar, previously unnoticed.

"Just passing through," she answered absently.

"You struck me as a stranger to these parts," the man continued. "People don't take kindly to strangers nowadays. Take those two in the corner there. They got bad news written all over them." After a pause he extended his hand to the halfling. "The name's Kramer. I'm a trapper."

Landi reached up and shook his hand. "Celandine Lightfoot, but you can call me Landi. I'm a bard."

"What brings you down here to Bri?" Kramer inquired, truly curious.

"I'm looking for my home tribe - the tribe my mother came from. In the meantime I am just a wanderer seeking adventure."

"If it's adventure you want, I doubt Bri is the place you seek. It's a small, homely place, but I sometimes call it home. Well, I must be off. I gotta check my traps early tomorrow morning. It was a pleasure meeting you, young Celandi. Look me up if you're ever in Bri again!" With that the man quaffed the last of his ale and left the inn with a wave.

With Kramer gone Landi was once again free to examine the room around her. Getting up from her stool she wandered around the tables, moving as silently as she could. The game of chance was quite rowdy, but not interesting. She dared not listen in on the whispered conversation at the next table lest she get caught eavesdropping. The third table, however, piqued her curiosity. Moving closer she saw that the two small creatures sitting in the shadows were dragonesque in appearance. She recalled from her bardic training that they were called kobolds.

What were kobolds doing in Bri?

Fortunately, one of Landi's many skills was diplomacy. She nonchalantly sat down at the kobolds' table, startling them greatly. They stared at the halfling as if they were looking at a ghost. Landi attempted to begin a conversation with the two, and she was eventually able to get them to speak.

"Big One not want you here," one stuttered.

"He send us to make you leave," the other continued.

"Who is the Big One?" Landi asked, startled that someone was aware of her presence in Bri.

"You must leave," the second kobold asserted, half menacing and half scared out of his wits. "Big One want you dead."

"Surely you don't want to kill me?" Landi asked, laying on every bit of diplomatic charm she could muster. The two kobolds looked at each other, unsure of their next move.

"We no want you dead," the first one finally answered.

"You must leave tonight," the second asserted. "Or Big One try to make you dead."

"Why? Who is the Big One?" Landi pushed them for answers. But the kobolds got up hastily, muttering something about having to go and skittered out of the inn, leaving Landi alone and confused.

As the light outside waned, most of the inn's customers returned home. Landi was tired and made her way upstairs to her room. She was the only guest that night - all the other rooms were empty - but somehow she felt she was not alone. As she turned the corner to her room, Landi suddenly stopped short. Her door was cracked open.

Stepping slowly to the door, she peered inside to see one of the kobolds she had talked to earlier, rummaging through her room with a dagger drawn. Landi knew what she had to do. Without hesitation she drew her crossbow and aimed through the crack in the door. Slowly she squeezed the trigger. Click! The bolt flew from the weapon and thudded into the kobold's head, killing him instantly.

There wasn't a moment to lose. The other kobold was nowhere to be seen, and the "Big One" might already be here. Landi hastily packed up her belongings and left the room. Just as she turned the corner in the hallway, however, a dagger came out from the shadows and sliced her arm. Quickly she backed up behind the corner and waited. Sure enough, the second kobold appeared a few seconds later with another dagger drawn. Landi drew her morningstar and exchanged blows with the kobold until it lay motionless at her feet.

The halfling managed to leave the inn quietly without incident, and she quickly made her way out of Bri, stopping only an hour later to make a small camp. Exhausted, she lay her head down and drifted off.

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Somewhere in the forest north of Bri, a lone druid and his riding dog companion made their way southward. "Easy, Nenic," the druid calmed his dog. The two had been sensing some strange presences around them for the past few days, but hadn't been able to discern just what it was. The druid's name was Jamae Surott; it was an elven name, like his father's. It meant "Crows", and that was the name he went by. He had been raised by his human mother, but always felt the animosity she held toward his father for leaving when he was a child. As a half-elf he had never met full acceptance in the village of men he was raised in. The Druidic Brotherhood, he hoped, would give him the feeling of acceptance he sought.

"What is it, Nenic?" he asked the large dog. "What do you sense?" Nenic was facing straight forward and growling. Crows turned and examined the surrounding underbrush. Sure enough, there were two shapes not twenty feet away and coming closer. Crows slowly pulled his spear and aimed carefully before letting fly. The spear struck true on one of the figures. They had lost the element of surprise and came crashing into plain view.

Zombies. Damn.

They were kobold zombies, to be exact. Crows drew his scimitars. It was time to end these perversions of nature. Nenic sprung into action, latching his jaws around the arm of the first zombie. Crows rushed to his side and dispatched the foul creature. Soon the other zombie lay beside the first. The entire fight took a matter of seconds.

Crows cleaned his blades and resheathed them. He looked at the defiled bodies and grimaced in disgust. "Come on, Nenic, let's get out of here."

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L'saana was a cleric of Ehlonna. She was an elf, had been born among elves, and raised among elves. Her way of life had been snatched away from her when a terrible sickness began to plague the elders of her village. Those infected, including her parents, began to wane quickly. L'saana left the village to seek a cure, natural or magical, that would save her village.

Now she was many leagues south of her village, traveling through a strange forest. A sinister presence in the forest insisted itself upon her consciousness. As she moved through the trees, the elf looked up and spied two strange creatures in front of her. They were kobolds, facing the other direction and unaware of her presence. Their flesh was half rotted and in some places, nonexistent. L'saana drew her longbow sharply. These kobolds were undead.

Twang! She let her first arrow loose. It struck one of the kobolds, sticking halfway out of its shoulder. A second arrow was already nocked and flying; this one protruded from the zombie's temple. As the first zombie fell to its knees, the second charged. By the time L'saana had her next arrow nocked it was upon her, striking her with its mangled claw. Without hesitation she fired straight between its eyes. The zombie slumped to the ground.

There was definitely something wrong in this forest. The sooner she left the better.

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"Is there a sheriff in this town?" the odd halfling asked. The innkeeper peered down at him and scratched his chin.

"We got a blacksmith. He's the lawman here in Pan. Just down the street. Why d'you ask?"

"No reason," the halfling shrugged. "Came across two kobolds yesterday, they tried to waylay me but I made short work of 'em. Thought I'd go talk to the sheriff about it tomorrow. Well, I'll be off to my room now."

When he felt like enough time had passed, he crept out of his room and down the stairs. The innkeeper could be heard snoring from his room behind the bar. The halfling made his way outside and across the town to the blacksmith's house. The door was unlocked. Sneaking through the house, he found the blacksmith's room upstairs and opened the door. The man lay in his bed, sleeping soundly.

The halfling lay his hands upon the man and whispered aloud, "Wee Jas, I commit this soul unto you." He channeled negative energy through his hands until the man lay still. Turning, he quickly left the house and returned to his room.

His name was Scrabble Darkfoot, and he was a cleric of death.