When the first rays of sunlight roused her, Silandra's first thought was that she must have left the curtains open. Then she realized she wasn't in her room at the inn, or even in a bed – she was slumped against the rough trunk of a tree. Her whole body ached and she didn't even want to think about moving.

Wincing, she opened her eyes completely and looked around. Judging by the amount of light poking through the trees, the sun had nearly finished rising. She usually loved watching the sky at dawn and dusk; the colors were so beautiful. She also enjoyed being outside and had sometimes camped out in the gardens back home just to see what it was like sleeping under the stars. But she could appreciate none of that right now.

The events of the previous evening came rushing back to her, and all she could feel was despair. Gorion had not come to get her, and that could only mean that he was unable to. Some adventurer she was. She'd run away at the first sign of danger. Never mind the fact that Gorion had told her to. She should have stayed and fought.

She wondered what the armored fiend had wanted with her. She was a sorceress with fey heritage, which was rare, but it had to be more than that or surely she'd have been in danger long before now. If only Gorion had given her some clue.

Perhaps he was still alive. Maybe he was just injured and couldn't get to her. As much as she resented him at times, he was still the person who'd looked after her all her life, and she couldn't bear the thought that he could be gone because of her.

She knew she had to get up if she had any hope of looking for him. She stretched her aching legs, then her arms. At least she'd somehow managed to retain her pack, though her shoulder muscles protested at the thought of carrying it through another day.

She'd forgotten all about the burn on her arm, until she scraped it against the tree when she tried getting up. She hissed in pain and examined the wound. Thankfully, it didn't look like the spell had done more than singe off a few layers of skin, but it was painful all the same. She was more bothered by the fact that her dress was now ruined and she might end up with a scar. She tried not to think about that right now though, telling herself it wasn't important.

She finally got to her feet and cautiously peered outside the thicket. No one was around, and miraculously, it seemed that her aimless running had brought her near the road. That meant she could eventually find her way to the Friendly Arm Inn… or back to Candlekeep. She stopped that line of thought quickly. Without Gorion, she knew she would not be welcome there, not unless she managed to get her hands on the exorbitant entry fee.

She looked in the direction she'd come – or, at least, where she thought she'd come from – but hesitated. She might not find the road again if she went looking for Gorion, and there were the wild animals to worry about.

She hadn't been standing there long when she heard light footsteps behind her. Fearing the worst, she turned quickly, magic building within her. She sighed in relief when she saw that it was only Imoen.

Her best friend was easy to recognize, since she was still wearing pink. In fact, Silandra didn't think she owned anything in any other color, even though it clashed with her red hair. Imoen looked well-prepared for an adventure, with her belt full of thieving tools, a short sword at her waist and a bow in her hand.

"Sorry I followed you," she said quietly, far removed from her usual cheerful self. "I just couldn't let you have an adventure without me. And I thought you might need help. I saw Gorion and… I'm so sorry."

Silandra threw her arms around her, glad to see a friendly face. Imoen's words confirmed her fears though – Gorion was gone. At least she wouldn't have to go on alone. Imoen didn't have any real fighting experience but she'd spent some time at the archery range and learned how to use a sword, so her company would be welcome in more ways than one.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, her voice wobbling a little. "But how could you know… the letter that you didn't read?"

"I read it by accident," said Imoen, then took in Silandra's expression. "Okay, so I was snoopin'. Can't remember exactly what it said but I… well, I got there pretty soon after you were attacked. Heard all the noise and kept hidden 'til it was safe. I found it on Gorion's… on his body. Hope you don't mind."

"I'm glad, because… I don't know if I could go back there. I don't want to see Gorion like that."

Imoen handed over the letter, and Silandra took a deep breath before unrolling the parchment and beginning to read.

"I don't understand," she said when she'd finished. "Whoever wrote this, whoever this 'E' is… he was warning Gorion of something, and I'm pretty sure Gorion knew what it was. I think he knew he might die. I just wish he'd told me what we were running from."

She burst into tears, unable to contain herself anymore, and Imoen pulled her into another hug.

"Doncha worry Sil," she said, trying to sound upbeat. "We'll find who killed him and why. I know it's not the kind of adventure we dreamed of, but it's the one we've got."

"The man who killed him, he was after me!" Silandra said through her tears. "Who would want me dead?"

"You sure? You hardly even know anyone."

"I was attacked before I left, too, back in Candlekeep, but they were nothing like him."

Imoen went pale. "Really? You okay?"

"Well I'm standing here, aren't I? I… killed the first one myself. And Hull was with me when the second attacked; he was able to restrain him. Maybe he'll be able to find out why they were after me."

"You killed someone? You need to talk about it?"

"I'm… fine." It was strange, but Silandra didn't feel particularly bad about killing the man. "He was trying to kill me. He deserved it. And it's not like there was any blood. I just blasted him."

"Well, I'm here for you, if you need me," Imoen said. "Hull will make sure there's a full investigation. Ulraunt'll allow it; can't have assassins getting inside Candlekeep. Not sure how we'd get the results of course. For now we should just get moving. Maybe this Khalid and Jaheira will know something."

"You're right," said Silandra, wiping her tears away. "Wait, what about Gorion's body? We can't just leave him there."

"The Watchers patrol this way a few times a week," said Imoen. "They'll find him. We can't do anything for him; there are wolves out here and they look mean."

"Let's go then," Silandra said. "Hopefully the inn isn't too far. Traveling is harder than I expected and I'm sore all over. But I don't want to spend another night out here."

"I thought you liked sleeping outside."

"I do, when I know there aren't monsters out there waiting to kill me."

"We'll fend 'em off. We're adventurers now."

Silandra smiled slightly. "Right. Adventurers."

As they walked, Silandra gave a detailed account of the attacks before she left Candlekeep. Then Imoen tried to distract her from her thoughts by teasing her about Hull, even though she knew that Silandra only liked him as a friend.

"He likes you way more than that," Imoen said, giggling. "He was too scared of Gorion to do anything about it though."

Silandra knew she probably shouldn't have been so surprised. But she'd always thought of Hull as an older brother, and it was strange to think that he saw her in that way. She'd probably accidentally charmed him a few times. She'd done that a lot when she was younger.

"Wait, there's someone up ahead. Two someones." Silandra had to squint to see them, which meant Imoen probably couldn't yet.

"What do they look like?" Imoen asked.

"Mmm… one is very short. A child? No, too ugly for that."

Imoen giggled. "What then?"

"A halfling, I think, and a man wearing a green robe. A wizard, perhaps."

"D'ya think they've seen us?"

"Maybe. Let's just be careful."

As they drew closer, the features of the two men were easier to make out. The halfling was indeed ugly, his appearance hardly helped by the scowl he wore, and he had a short sword at his waist. The man with him looked far more approachable. He had a bizarre tattoo across his face, but otherwise he seemed normal enough. The two were having a conversation, but their voices died down as the girls approached.

"Adventurers, I'll bet!" Imoen whispered excitedly.

"Possibly," Silandra replied. She wasn't quite ready to trust any random strangers they came across, not after what she'd just gone through.

The halfling reached for his sword, but the man with him held out his hand.

"Hold Montaron!" he said. "This young wayfarer is in need. Someone has set about thee and you have barely escaped with your life."

"Aye, Xzar," said the halfling, his voice gruff in comparison. "Looks to have been roughed up quite well."

"Perhaps you'd like a healing potion?" Xzar asked.

Silandra definitely wasn't going to accept any kind of potion from these two. There was something off about them, but she couldn't work out what it was. Still, she didn't feel she could turn down help when it was offered.

"It's only a slight burn," she said. "I wouldn't waste a potion on it. But we'd be grateful for assistance, if there's anything else you can do."

Xzar was already in the process of withdrawing a couple of blue-tinted bottles, and opened his mouth to speak. Then he frowned and blinked a few times, looked at Montaron, then looked back at her. He didn't say anything and soon the silence began to get uncomfortable. Finally, the halfling sighed.

"You two," he said. "Know how ter fight?"

"Of course we do!" said Imoen. "We're adventurers, doncha know!"

Xzar brightened and patted Montaron on the shoulder. "Yes, we are looking for companions. You see, we are on our way to Nashkel. It is a troubled area and we mean to investigate some disturbing rumors surrounding the local mine. We are to meet the mayor of the town, a man named Berrun Ghastkill."

"What're you doin' so far west if you're going to Naskhel?" Imoen asked. "Did you get lost?"

Montaron scowled. "'Cause not. The wizard 'felt' somthin' which… led us astray."

"What did you feel?" Silandra asked, gazing at the mage a little too intently.

"Magic, of course, and the essence… oooooo, naughty nymph!" Xzar's voice was suddenly very high pitched. "Your parlor tricks won't work on me!"

Silandra blinked and checked herself. She hadn't intended to try charming him. She'd been getting so good at controlling it too. Perhaps the stress of recent events was to blame. But how was he able to know what she was so easily, and how did he even know he was being charmed?

"Sil!" Imoen admonished, then turned to the two. "She didn't mean it. You see, she just lost her foster father last night, and if she thinks you might know what happened then she wants to know."

"I can speak for myself," Silandra said. "I am sorry. But yes, we were attacked last night and I thought perhaps that might be what you sensed, and if you hold any kind of clue…"

"She's a nymph?" Montaron asked his companion skeptically.

"Half-nymph," Sil corrected, annoyed.

"Give us some of your hair and perhaps we'll forget ye tryin' to charm my companion."

"My… hair?"

"Nymph hair's worth a fortune!"

"But I'm only half, and I hardly think…"

"It'll look close enough. Just a lock."

Silandra sighed. She was pretty sure only a full-blooded nymph's hair had any kind of magical properties, but she wouldn't put it past these two to turn on her and Imoen, and if this was what she had to do to make up for her weak charming attempt, then it was a small price to pay. She unpinned her hair – it was a mess by now anyway – and hesitated only a moment before using her dagger to shear off an inch from the bottom of her braid. Montaron accepted it with a queer smirk on his face. She hoped she wouldn't come to regret this.

"So, Nashkel?" Xzar asked, smiling a little too widely.

"You still want us to accompany you?" Silandra asked.

"Of course!" Xzar exclaimed.

"I suppose… we would be interested in investigating the iron crisis, right Imoen?"

"Sure, but we should meet Gorion's friends first."

"I haven't forgotten. Xzar, Montaron, we would be glad to help you, but we must head to the Friendly Arm Inn First. We have to meet some friends there. Perhaps you'll go with us?"

"We've precious little time, but it is best to travel accompanied," Xzar said.

"Aye," said Montaron. "We'll get yer friends and then head straight ter Naskhel."

"I just need a moment," said Silandra, setting her pack down and beginning to rummage around.

"Sil, your hair looks fine," Imoen said, rolling her eyes.

"No it doesn't!" Silandra cried, beginning to get frantic. She stood after a moment, empty-handed. "Imoen, do you have a mirror?"

"Course not!" Imoen said. "I brought useful things."

"Oh… oh no," Silandra said, biting her lip. "I can't believe I didn't bring one! My hair is messy!"

Imoen sighed and turned to their two new companions, who thankfully looked more confused than irritated. "'Scuse us a moment, will ya?" she asked, and pulled Silandra a short distance away.

"You're gonna have to do without a lot of things you're used to out here, Sil," she said. "I'll fix your hair and you'll just have to trust me that it looks okay."

"Alright," Silandra said, trying to control herself. She was not going to cry about this. She knew it wasn't logical, but she was upset all the same, and on top of the previous night's events it was hard not to just collapse into a heap and cry.

"There, you look like a lady again," Imoen said, taking a step back. "Though you really don't have to anymore."

Silandra brightened a little. "You're right! I could have any hairstyle I want! Once we get to the inn and I can see myself we can do some experimenting. Montaron, Xzar, lead the way!"

Their two new companions set a fast pace, faster than Silandra had expected a halfling to comfortably move. But they were probably seasoned travelers and used to it. She focused on just putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to fall too far behind or show how much pain she was in. She still did not trust these two and did not want to show weakness in front of them.

Imoen was in high spirits. It was hard for anything to keep her down for long. She began to question Xzar incessantly until he gave in and revealed that he was a necromancer. Imoen had always had a fascination with magic, if not the patience to learn, and so then she began a whole new line of questioning. If it wasn't clear enough already, it was certain now that Xzar wasn't quite sane, but as long as he didn't turn on them Silandra decided she could handle it.

She didn't really like the idea of traveling with a necromancer or such an ugly, foul-tempered little man, but she also knew it was probably her best chance at getting safely to Gorion's friends. When she reached them, then she could reevaluate the situation.

She kept an eye on Montaron. After all, she was pretty sure he'd been about to attack or at least threaten her and Imoen when they'd first met. Every now and then he scowled at nothing in particular.

"Will we reach the inn tonight?" she asked.

"Should do, if ye can keep up," he said.

She wondered if he'd noticed her struggle, and renewed her efforts.

They stopped briefly for a midday snack. While Silandra, Montaron and Xzar only had plain traveling rations, Imoen's bag seemed almost completely full of food. She was happy enough to share the fresh bread and cheese she'd 'acquired' from Winthrop's inn. Having a decent meal helped, but Silandra still worried her energy would give out before they made it to the inn.

It was late afternoon before they encountered anyone else. If anyone screamed 'wizard' then it was the stranger who approached them. He wore a long red robe and pointed hat, and Silandra even thought she could feel the power emanating from him. She prepared herself for a fight. The man didn't look aggressive, but wizards could be tricky, especially powerful ones.

"Ho there wanderer," he said, his eyes on Silandra. "Stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man." His voice was surprisingly strong considering his age.

Silandra calmed herself, though she was sure the stranger was more than just an 'old man'. "Can we help you?" she asked.

"Just looking for some conversation, after traveling so long without seeing a soul. Not many brave the roads these days. May I ask where thou art headed?"

"The Friendly Arm Inn," Silandra said, hoping her instinct to trust this man was correct. "I'm to meet some friends there. Is it far?"

"The inn is but a short distance to the north. I have no doubt that thy friends are there, waiting with open arms. My sympathies for any hardships the road may have inflicted upon thee. But I have wasted too much of thy time and said too much already. I shall take my leave and wish thee all the best."

"Wait, what do you know of my hardships?" Silandra asked.

But somehow, the man was gone. She hadn't seen him disappear; it was almost as if he'd never been there to begin with. She looked around, stunned.

"Hey Sil, who was that?" Imoen asked.

"I have no idea," said Silandra, still a little bewildered.

"Sounded like he knew ya," Montaron said suspiciously.

"Maybe he does know me, somehow," said Silandra. "More likely, he knew my foster father. But I can assure you, I've never seen him before in my life."

"He's a powerful one," Xzar said. "Such pretty magic in him."

"Yes, there was… magic in him," said Silandra. "Quite a lot for him to be able to just disappear like that. Well, at least we know we're close to the inn, if he was telling the truth, and I think he was."

They continued on their way, and Silandra was just thinking how lucky it was that they'd not been attacked by any wild animals when she heard an inhuman screech coming from the bushes to her left. She had little time to react before a couple of ugly purple monkeys jumped onto the road. She squealed and jumped back involuntarily. Thankfully, her companions were not rattled so easily. Montaron evaded the creatures' claws easily and stabbed one through its chest. Xzar calmly cast some kind of spell that appeared to suck the life out of the other. It wasn't quite dead yet, but an arrow from Imoen finished it.

"Really Sil?" Imoen asked. "You're embarrassing me in front of our new friends."

"Well I've never seen a monster before!" Silandra said, crossing her arms.

She could see now that the creatures were only gibberlings, and very scrawny ones at that. She'd read about all kinds of monsters and knew that these ones in particular were considered more of a nuisance than a true menace, but being attacked was different to seeing them in a book.

"Ye handled yerself well enough," Montaron said to Imoen, wiping his sword on the grass. "Ye sure yer friend ain't just some random noblewoman ye picked up?"'

"Sil's a powerful sorceress!" Imoen said. "She just had a bad night. I think she'll be back to normal after spending a night at the inn. Let's get moving."

Montaron didn't look convinced, but he and Xzar continued walking, themselves probably eager to get inside. Imoen sidled up to Silandra.

"Hey, you okay?" she whispered.

"Fine," Silandra replied. "I just hope I don't make a fool of myself the next time we get attacked."

"'Spose I've had a little more experience. I've gotten sloppy though, shoulda been payin' more attention to our surroundings."

Of course, Imoen had not spent her whole life in Candlekeep. She'd been on the road as a child and probably got into at least a few skirmishes, considering the kind of company she'd kept. Silandra had always been a little jealous of her for that, even though Imoen said she'd rather have grown up in the safety of a place like Candlekeep where she was always sure of a bed and a warm meal.

Finally, they saw a keep in the distance. Tired as she was, it was sufficient motivation for Silandra to pick up her pace. It was also getting dark, and she thought there was a good chance they'd encounter something worse than gibberlings at night.

As they drew closer, Silandra saw that this wasn't just an inn. She didn't know exactly what she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been a small community with multiple dwellings within. She smiled up at the large building which must be the inn itself. For now, she was safe. She couldn't wait to get inside and relax.