A.N.- I don't own The Forgotten Realms but as soon as it's on E-Bay it's mine all mine hahahahaha. Sorry lost my cool/what ever brainsfor a moment there...

A.N.- Please read and review, do it NOW!>:(

CampFire Tales

Out of the gates of Northshire Valley, Vrisiphiel headed south on the winding road at a quick and steady pace. Delays had meant she left just after dusk, and once more the stars took over the realm above.

Lanterns swung in the night wind, left, right, left, rightand the shadows they made shifted left, right, left, right. The road was well patrolled by Stormwind guards, but the distant howling still sent chills up her body. Unconsciously she fingered at the silver ring around her index finger.

Out in the open world, where danger lurks around every corner, she could still hardly believe it, despite already out here for a week. Had it really been a week? A smirk snuck up on her lips.

Humming lightly to herself, the light filtering through the woods ahead caught her attention. Goldshire, the town lying on the four way junction, joining Stormwind, Redridge, Westfall and of course, Northshire. The town was bustling with activities as she entered the glow from the houses. A leather clad man skipped across the road, a fishing pole hung over his shoulder; from the direction of Redridge came a dwarf, hauling a heavy sack, a human ran up to him and took the sack, dropping a small bag of coins in the dwarf's awaiting hands.

To her left was the Lion's Pride Inn. She picked up her pace, eager to have a hot meal by the warm fireplace. Then something jumped onto her back.

Letting out a scream, she flailed at whatever was on her back. Tiny claws dug through her robe at the shoulders, small yap and pitched laughter filling her ears.

'Get off me!' She shrieked, franticly reaching out to bat away the creature. Her hand grabbed onto a long soft tubelar thing, and she pulled. The creature yarled, and she felt something scratch past her neck, followed by painful burn. On the ground was a twitching imp, growling as it rolled across the stone paved road. She placed a hand over the pains on her neck, and returned to see two blood smears over her palm. The imp hopped back to its feet, and waved its small hands at her, yelling at her in its pitched, jittery tongue.

'Hoply, get back here!' A man in a red robe ran out of the craft house across the street, and yelled at the small demon. The imp looked at the approaching man, then back at Vrisiphiel once more, growling in a gurgling sound, it bared a mouthful of sharp fangs at her before running to the man.

'I'm terrible sorry.' The man gestured apologeticly, his eyes straining to remain fixed while its focus shifted over her from head to toe, 'this is my summoned imp, except it have yet to have some discipline nailed into its skull yet.' The man was a full head taller than her, had short curly sandy hairs and grey eyes which suddenly glistened with a glow Vrisiphiel know all too well. 'Oh my, you're hurt. I am so sorry fair lady, I will see to it that Hoply gets what he deserves.'

'No, that won't be necessary.' She waved a hand, her tone light and cold.

'Yes, of course, not for a lady as kind as you, I got some bandages and healing herbs with me, if you would like you can use them to treat the wound, there's always a risk of them becoming infected, and goodness knows where that imp has been. Though the wound may be difficult for you to treat yourself, if you wish I could-.'

'No, thank you, it's just a scratch.' She turned away for the Lion's Pride.

'Let me treat you to a meal as an apology. The inn here got some special recipes that will make you swallow your tongue.' The warlock followed a step behind her into the inn.

'You are most generous, but I'm afraid I must decline.' Stepping down the stairs into the common room, Vrisiphiel threw the words over her shoulder.

'How about a drink?'

'I don't drink with strangers.' She found herself a stood at the bar, one already with people on either side of it. 'Honeydew mead, please.'

To the right came the sound of coins exchanging hands, and the person next to her stood up and left. The red robed man then slipped into the now vacant seat. He nodded at the bartender. 'Same as hers, thank you.'

The young mage wasn't sure if she should laugh or get angry at the man. Suppressing the corners of her twitching lips, she stared at the bottles on the wall, pretending to read their labels.

'Name's Ovslen, warlock in training, a pleasure to meet you.' The man said. She felt the stares of the man falling on her, but she kept her eyes fixed forward. 'Now that you know my name, that makes me not a stranger, so may I have the honor in buying you a drink, o'beauteous lady?'

'Already got one.' The young mage took the mug from the bartender's round tray, slightly annoyed that he had brought both hers and the man's mead together.

Taking his own mug, muttering another thank you to the barkeep, he said. 'Yes, yes, how unperceptive of me. May I pay for this drink?' Without waiting for her to make a retort, he placed two silver coins on the bar table. 'Mine and the lady's, and whatever else the lady wishes to have for the night.'

'Hey, hey, you!' Vrisiphiel turned about, but the man was already on his way to the door, his imp jumping from table to table, knocking plates and candles over. 'Come bac…' The man went out the door, the imp gave her a mouth full of fangs before it too, disappeared out the door.

'So how else may I serve you milady?' The bartender said, drying glasses with a towel. 'If you are looking for a good meal our chef has a boar roasting in the back, we also got some premium wine from The Wine Cask, these silvers will more than pay for a bottle, quite a catch if I'm not too bold to say milady, such gracious lord, perhaps you would like a nice large comfortable double bed, with hot bath and – ' The young woman cut the bartender short with a hard stern look of she would not hesitate break all the teeth in his mouth with her staff if he don't shut it that instant.

'Just a roll of bread with some of the stew I'm smelling, thank you.' She fished out a few coppers. 'And I'm paying, when you see that man you give his two silvers back.' The bartender nodded, and swiped the silvers into his pocket, though Vrisiphiel very much doubted if the red robed man would ever see those coins.

Feeling warm with a full stomach, Vrisiphiel went about to deliver the messages. She found the mage trainer Valdios on the second floor, who read the letter and looked at her with a long, sad face, muttering something about Khelden, and the word 'her', which Vrisiphiel suspected was referring to her. All the same, he agreed to become her teacher for her time in Goldshire, and taught her a few useful tricks, like conjuring food and fireblasting.

After that she set about for the Marshal. And it took her just two seconds after stepping out of the Lion's door to find out who it was.

A man with short trimmed hair, weighed down by a set of full plate armor, was facing a group of guards, waving his hands agitatedly. The Marshal was screaming at the guards' leader, though she could not make out the words over all the noises from other travelers.

She waited by the side, quietly watching the forest, while their argument continued. At last, the guards filed out toward Stormwind, the Marshal let out a sigh, and turned to face her. 'How may I help you young lady?'

Vrisiphiel nearly jumped on her feet.

'You've been waiting for me to finish speaking with the officer have you not? Now speak quickly, there are too many matters I must attend to.'

'Eh yes, I have a message, from Marshal McBride of Northshire.' The Marshal snatched the letter from her hands, tearing the envelope open.

'Ahh, I see you have proven to have quite some skill, Vrisiphiel. Killed a Defias group leader alone too.' The Marshal said in an even tone. 'Well, for your deeds of courage in combat and service to the Stormwind guards, I hereby promote you to the rank of Acting Deputy of Goldshire.'

The words knocked the mage back a step. 'Acting Deputy!'

'Well I can't make you an official deputy since you're just an volunteer, not without orders from Stormwind anyway.'

'No, no, I mean, I'm no leader, I don't know anything. I can't be a deputy!'

'Oh don't worry, you don't have to do any tactical planning or order guards around - ' A shadow slipped over the Marshal's face, and disappeared just as quickly. '- not like there are any around to be ordered anyway, with all of them recalled to them blasted Alliance Front.'

'I'll let you in on a small secret.' The Marshal whispered into her ears. 'It's just some customary title we give out to keep volunteers happy, if you really count it, I got thirty new deputies just yesterday.'

She looked up at the man with wide eyes, not sure if the Marshal was joking or not.

'Dughan, where's that Eastvale something, I can't find it.' A paladin walked up to the Marshal, with a meter long wood bludgeon strapped to his back.
'For the seventh time, just follow the east road, cross the bridge and turn left. Goodness, my grandma can find it quicker than you, and she's blind!' The Marshal of Goldshire growled.

'Can't you be more precise?' The paladin strode away, grumbling as if the Marshal should have just teleported him to Eastvale.

The Marshal sighed again. 'Hopeless volunteers. Half of them can't find their ways around, and the other half just throw themselves at kobolds and murlocs and whatnots and never to be seen again. Bunch of useless cry babies who never should have left their cradles.' The he looked up at her, and laughed. 'Sorry, forgot you are here, I don't mean you, I'm sure you're quite a capable warrior.'

'Mage.'

'Sorry, mage.' The Marshal brushed a hand through his hair. 'Well, young lady. I might just have a task for you.' He pointed a hand toward the south. 'Down that way is Fargodeep mine, it used to be a main mine that gave Goldshire its name, but now it's infested with vermin. Could you go in there and assess the infestation for me? I've sent a dozen other volunteers, but they ran off as soon as they saw the first copper vein.'

'First thing tomorrow.'

'Great, I'll be expecting your report. You hey, yes you, over there, no not you, stay out of it, I want the kid in the green mail, Get over here, stop bugging people to help you get candles, you're not strong enough, so give it up, I've had enough of your constant shouting. What? Let's see you say that again while I'm breaking your fingers.' The Marshal turned back at her. 'Sorry, but I got things to attend to. You, get yourself over here young one, that's it, you asked for it...'