It was turning nightfall and Peter and I had just made it into a low, comfortable, forest near Weather Hills. Peter unstraps the large bag from his back and drops it down on the ground into a patch of fresh grass.

"We had better rest here for tonight. I'd rather not wander into the dark and lose our way, and also supper and rest would do us both good," Peter says with a yawn. I nod in agreement to what he said.

I take the leather bag off of my shoulder and rest it next to a large rock. "I'm going to head for wood. We should really get a fire going as soon as we can." I say while turning my back on Peter and walking off into a patch of trees.

I can hear Peters faint reply behind me as I walk through the pine and oak, snapping branches beneath my feet, the fresh breeze cool to the touch of my skin. My eyes begin to survey the ground in search of anything substantial to burn. I pick up oddly large twigs, peculiarly shaped logs, and a patch of dry grass to start the fire. The load is a hefty weight but manageable. I take the wood tight in my arms and begin making my way back through the trees, towards our small camp. On my way I stumble across something with my eyes, a long slender piece of wood, rather flexible to the touch. I put down what I carry for a moment and examine the piece carefully. My mind begins to ponder. Since watching my father for so long, I've picked up a keen eye for items of usefulness. I begin to think of what this might be crafted into, or be used for, and suddenly the idea darts into my mind like an arrow... An arrow! A bow. Only one thing could be made out of this perfect little piece, a bow! I place the newly found bow body on top of the stack and begin walking out of the forest and back into camp.

Peter immediately picks the bow part off of the top of my pile eying it over. "This wont burn well at all. I thought you've been around fires." He says with a very dull expression on his face.

"That's because It's not for burning-" I snatch the piece from his hand, "It's the body of a bow!"

Peter looks at me, almost amused at the idea. "A bow? Why exactly." He asks, slightly intrigued.

"Well we wont have these supplies forever. And we really don't have gold seeping out of our pockets for provisions. So I'll use it to hunt game when I can," I reply rather proud of my idea. "Here, hand me that sturdy wiring you had packed." I continue.

Peter looks even more befuddled. "How did you know I packed a sturdy wire?" says he quite concerned on my almost physic ability's.

"I saw it hanging out of the right pouch of your pack when we were hiking towards here." I reply once more feeling rather proud and confident.

Peter nods, and hands me the wiring. I cut small holes on either end of the wooden shaft and slide the wire through fastening it tight with a firm knot. I make a small guiding cut on the outside of it(For aiming arrows) and stare at it. A smile strewn across my face.

"There, what do you think?" I say in a high spirited tone.

"Well considering you did all that in less then ten minutes... It's quite impressive." Peter replies while patting me on the back.

I snap out of my self indulged state and back to matters at hand. "Lets see about this fire, It's getting rather dark." I say while rummaging around in the pile I brought back from the woods.

I place the dry grass I found in the center of the stone ring which Peter had made while I was away. On top of that I place the oddly large twigs over it, grab the tinder from my bag, and after a few Snaps and Crackles the twigs are in flames. I cant help but feel over joyed. First the bow, and now lighting our first fire in the wilderness. Peter and I sit around the fire laughing merrily at stories we tell, and taking bites out of small crispy pastries. The small portion of meat we brought from home seems to decrease in amount over our first meal of the week. But even so we have enough Cram to last us a month(If necessary) Peter brings out a long pipe and lights the end of it puffing out smoke circles in the air that seem to float up endlessly into the star ridden night sky. I bring out a bottle of old brandy and pour a bit into two wooden cups we brought along with us. I hand the glass to him and begin a toast.

"To our first night as adventurers!" I say in a loud happy tone.

"And to the gold and stories to bask our names!" Peter adds, and with that we drink, taking down gulp after gulp of the brandy. It has a bitter sweet taste, a taste I've never indulged in before, It's a strong over-whelming aura that leaves your mouth and senses tingling, but no matter what affect, I cant seem to stop myself from enjoying every drop.

After what feels like minutes but is clearly hours Peter and I come to a stumbling halt and fall into a sleep by the warm fire. My nights dreams are filled with bundles of gold, jewel encrusted swords, glistening cloaks of the purest emerald green, and enough red meat and mead to fill my family's house! I wish these dreams could last a life-time but of course they cant, dreams never last long. I awake to find myself lying face first in a small puddle of red brandy-wine. The scent stings my nostrils as I stand up from the ground. I never thought pulling out that bottle would result in forgetting the night previous. My head aches, as does my stomach, the sun blinds my eyes ever more then before. I look over at Peter who is lying on his side by the burnt out fire, wooden cup in hand. I shake his shoulder to wake him and as I do he rises to a sitting position and raises his cup, as if still in whatever sort of dream he was having.

"Huh... Ugh... What happened?" Peter asks burrowing his face in his palms.

"We seem to have... Ugh... gotten a little out-of-control last night." I say holding the side of my throbbing head. I never pictured my first adventurers night going quite like that. Peter leans towards the burnt rubble of the fire and begins lighting a new with whatever we didn't use last night. I sit on the opposite side of the fire staring into it blankly.

"If I never see alcohol again... I'll be perfectly contented" Peter says with a groan.

"On that we agree." I reply staring once more at the fire.

"Should we move out?" Peter asks scratching his head.

I look over towards the Weather Hills and ponder a moment. "It would be wise, but considering our state... I doubt we can. Lets just rest another night," I reply.

On that Peter agrees and we both sit back by the fire and doze off again.

That night is silent, less merrymaking then before by a long shot. We both sit barely speaking and barely moving staring endlessly at the fire. Our conversations for the night don't seem to last more then two or three words, and even if they do they are unintelligent and blatantly annoying. As the night dies down into a cool calm and starry state, Peter and I fall back once again into a sleep, heads still aching from the night previous. When morning breaks through the tall forest trees I find my headache gone, or at least barely noticeable, my stomach pains have also dissipated. Peter arises the same time as I do, and so we both begin to gather our items and head out.

"So, what direction should we be heading now?" Peter asks while hauling his large bags straps over his shoulders.

"How about north?" I reply bluntly.

"North would take us to Fornost, correct?" Peter asks, almost worried.

"Exactly why we should go, there's ought to be plunders of gold!" I reply nearly jumping for joy.

"I suppose going to Fornost wouldn't be too bad. But not for long, overstaying our welcome wouldn't be smart." Peter says while beginning to walk.

We walk through fields, mud, rain or shine. Until we reach the top of a small hill overlooking the rocky ruins of Fornost. It's actually quite beautiful honestly, besides the ruble around it, Fornost must have looked lovely in its prime. Although there's something off-putting about it, something neither me nor Peter can explain. But never the less we continue towards it nearing ever closer into midday, and towards its gate.