Roy Silverbow sat in the corner of the crowded tavern, quietly sipping an ale. His long brown hair was tucked behind his elven ears and a large bow was strapped to his back. The tavern was an old breeding grounds for hired blades in the city of Fallcrest, and, being penniless, that was precisely why Roy was here.
Three others sat beside him, filling up the bar: a human wizard with a wand tucked in his shirt-sleeve; then a dragonborn paladin, renegade by the looks of him, as not too many paladins employed by the temple of Bahamut would end up in a place like this; and finally, at the opposite end from Roy sat a rogue with sallow skin and dark eyes. Roy eyed him suspiciously.
Fallcrest was a large town in the north, surrounded by thick forest. These people had gathered in this tavern because they were all about to be hired for a quest in the far northern lands, which is home only to small scattered villages. Roy himself didn't know what the quest entailed yet, except that it included a day's journey north to a village called Alderhollow.
A man entered the tavern and approached the group. "You're here about the Alderhollow job, right?" he said, gruffly.
The four all nodded wordlessly.
"My employer wants someone to scout the area and is willing to pay – generously. Thirty gold up front, and thirty more upon your return. It's an easy job for the price…"
"What's the catch?" said Black.
Roy looked distrustfully at the man and added, "Why do you need scouts?"
"There are plans in the works to build a road from Alderhollow to Fallcrest," said the messenger, "And my employer wants to make sure work goes smoothly. That's all."
He took out four pouches, each bulging with the weight of thirty gold, and laid them on the counter. The job is too good to pass up. Roy took one – and, he saw, so did the others.
When the messenger had left, Roy turned to the rest of the group. He said, "On this job, there's got to be something he's not telling us. I'm Roy, by the way, Roy Silverbow."
"Cynder," offered the dragonborn paladin readily. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm August," said the wizard. "We'll be working together for a while, so it's good to get to know each other. You seem trustworthy enough."
"Black Widow. You done jobs like this before, August?" asked the rogue.
"A few," August responded vaguely. "To make ends meet."
Black narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you sponsored by a college or something?"
"I've been striking out on my own."
"We're all doing this for the money," interrupted Roy. "That's what matters. Everyone has their own reasons."
Black shrugged.
"Alderhollow is a day's journey from here, through the thick forest," said Cynder. "We'd better set off."
"We'll need a cart," suggested August.
#
It was the dead of winter and a permanent layer of frost covered the ground. The canopy in the forest was so thick that only the occasional spot of sunlight could be seen shimmering on the ground, and the rest was engulfed in a thick darkness. The forest floor was littered with moss and stones. From somewhere in the trees, an owl hooted menacingly.
Roy readied his bow and aimed it into the canopy. He released it and, a second later, the bird fell with a thud to the ground. "Dinner," he said, as August looked on with equal parts awe and disgust. They grabbed the carcass, threw it into their small cart, and pushed on into the woods.
Finally, the group entered a small clearing.
"Want to break for lunch?" asked August.
"I think we should keep going," said Black. "Make the most of our sunlight. Don't want to arrive in the dark."
"We'll make it either way," offered Cynder.
"Yes, but I'm sure this forest has many things we don't want to face that come out at night."
Cynder looked to Roy, and then his expression changed to one of shock. "Roy – move very slowly – away from the trees…"
But it was too late. Just as he said that, Roy felt something land with a thump onto his back and a searing pain in his shoulder. Frantically, he beat the beast off with his bow and shot an arrow through its heart – only to see three more in front of him. They were giant dire rats, with sickly yellow eyes.
He raised his bow and shot another, and the rest of the party took down the other two with relative ease. Roy felt the warm stickiness of blood running down his back, but the wound felt strangely numb. As he took a step, he nearly stumbled.
"Looks like we don't want to stop here after all," mused Cynder. This hardly merited a response, except to continue on through the forest for a while. For a few minutes Roy kept pace, but then his movements began to slow. His face felt hot, burning even.
August looked back at him and the group stopped. "I've seen it before," he said. "It's called filth fever. It will kill you if you can't find an antidote. If you want to live… you might make it back to Fallcrest." He began rummaging through his bag in an effort to see if he had a potion that would work, but evidently comes up empty-handed.
"No, he won't make it," said Cynder. "Look at him. Maybe we can find an antidote in Alderhollow."
Roy's normally sharp eyes were clouded with confusion and weakness. "I'll keep going," he says.
Cynder offered him a hand. The group pressed on through the dark forest.
#
Finally they came across a shabby wooden gate. It was open and unmanned. "Is this Alderhollow?" asked Cynder, surprised at the state of it. "They're building a road here?"
He pushed the gate and it swung open with a loud creak to reveal what appeared to be a ghost town with rows of empty wooden houses.
Roy saw a figure move in the corner of his eye. There was a flurry of motion – and then Roy found himself held with a dagger to the throat. In a matter of seconds, his hands were tied with thick rope. The rest of the group faced similar fates.
There were at least ten bandits, none of them a day older than twenty years old, a mix of humans and half-elves. Suddenly, one raised his hand and all of the others stopped what they were doing and looked to him.
The young man who raised his hand was one of the oldest of the group, evidently a half-elf, with a shock of pure white hair and blue eyes. He looked to the party.
"Tell me why you're here," he said, "Or I will kill you."
