It was dark that night, and the travellers never saw the attackers coming from the trees. They were unlike anything the people of Krynn had seen before: they had the resemblance of Goblins, but were built like a strong, muscular human, and were at least 5 times as strong. Their green, slimy skins didn't reflect the moonlight, and neither did their black eyes or grey, pointed horns. Their armour was black, as were their weapons, though their teeth were a sickly yellow colour. One of the travellers, and the only survivor of the attack, was a young woman named Rachel Paladinia, and she survived because of her skill with a lance. She wore light, but very, very strong, armour over a brown tunic and breeches, and her boots were hardened underneath so that they could cause extra damage. She wore steel-plated gloves in case she was ever caught without her lance. Her hazel-brown eyes, however, were full of horror, and her long brown hair fell into her face as she told the story of the attack on the road to an old man and a young married couple in the Inn of the Last Home in Solace. Tempest, Rebecca and Fizban listened to her story with interest, Fizban especially, for he had never heard of creatures such as the ones that young Rachel spoke of.
"They were horrible," she said. "Like Goblins, only far stronger and faster. They could fight, too. My friends were dead within minutes, and I only survived because of my skill with my lance. These creatures had slimy green skin and black eyes and grey horns, and yellow teeth. Their black armour deflected all but the strongest thrust of my lance, and I barely escaped alive…"
Rachel couldn't continue, she sank her head into her hands and wept. Rebecca sat down next to her and comforted her.
"Don't worry," she said. "They're gone now, you're safe."
She looked at her husband sadly. "We've come too late," she said softly. "The Tiraclaws are here."
Tempest nodded. "This poor girl," he said. "She's, what? 19? 20? It's amazing that her lance was able to withstand the blows from the Tiraclaw's weapons."
"It's made from pure silver," Rebecca said, examining the lance that was leaning against the side of the bar counter. "Very well made, too. The person who forged it must be a master smithy."
"…I made it," Rachel said, sniffing. "Do you really think it's good? It was my fifth attempt, all of the other lances I made shattered when struck."
Rebecca smiled. "I'm impressed," she said. "You have talent, Rachel. Why don't you travel with us?"
Rachel looked at her. They had only just met, and this woman – she had no idea what her name was – wanted her to travel with them. "All right," she said. "I don't have anywhere else to go, with my friends dead."
She turned to Tempest. "And I'm 18."
Tempest shrugged. "I was guessing. My name is Tempest and this is Rebecca, my wife. This old man is Fizban."
"What old man?" Rachel asked, looking to where Tempest was pointing. Tempest looked behind him, and blinked.
Fizban had disappeared.
"Where did he go?" Tempest said. "How could he have just vanished?"
"He's a wizard," Rebecca said. "Maybe he made himself invisible."
"Either of us could do that," Tempest said. "But we don't. Why would an old man like him do it?"
The barmaid, a pretty girl with curly red hair and green eyes walked up with their drinks. She looked around, confused.
"Where's Fizban?" she asked. "I could have sworn I saw him with you."
"Oh, you know him?" Rebecca asked. "Yes, he was with us, but he just…disappeared."
The barmaid shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time he's done it."
She walked away to serve other customers, leaving Tempest and Rebecca confused. Finally, Tempest sighed.
"Everywhere we go; there are either insane wizards or old men who disappear suddenly. Why can't we just meet NORMAL people for a change?" Tempest had forgotten about Rachel, who walked in front of him.
"I'm normal," she said.
"An 18-year-old girl who can make a brilliant weapon and fight off Tiraclaws and live. She can't be normal, because no normal human can fight a Tiraclaw and live," Tempest thought. "Yeah, really normal. We should get a room if we're going to spend the night here."
"You're right," Rebecca said. "I'll go and see if I can book us some rooms. That is, if you want your own room, Rachel."
Rachel shrugged. "Anything's fine with me. But I'm sure you two want some privacy."
Tempest chuckled, and Rebecca flushed and went to book the rooms. A minute later she was back.
"C'mon, the rooms are already prepared. Nobody's been staying in this town for a while," she said.
"Why do we always choose the towns that people avoid?" Tempest asked out loud.
"Sounds like you two travel a lot," Rachel said.
"We do," Rebecca said. "Kind of like a hobby, really." She looked at Tempest, who shrugged.
"Yeah, a hobby."
They went upstairs to sleep; it had been a hard day for everybody.