A PORTENT OF GOOD FORTUNE
Belrosian and Benarque had joined a group to hunt down bandits in the forest. Their leader was a bard named Aildain, and he had already recruited another wizard, a gnome and a dwarf. These particular bandits were lead by the sisters Nybright, renegades from Kelethin who were rumored to be encamped deep in the forest, where they waylaid innocent travellers.
"The Nybrights are the daughters of a high elf," the bard explained. "But their banditry has brought dishonor on the family name, and driven their father to drown his shame in the bottle."
"We are accustomed to fighting bandits," Belrosian said. "Benarque and I fought many of them in the Karanas, and we've learned to watch out for their tricks." All that seemed so long ago and far away now.
The six adventurers assembled between two hills leading down into the Lesser Faydark, and set out. The gnome and the dwarf were in the lead. Benarque, trotting along beside Belrosian, became more and more uneasy as they travelled down the path. Even the wizard could sense this part of the forest was somehow different from the Greater Faydark around Kelethin. Here it was eerily quiet, and the trees seemed not as old. "I see the tracks of orcs," Benarque noted. "But there is something else," he added quietly. "There is something ominous in the air here."
Suddenly, there was the sound of a spell being cast, and a flash of red light. Before anyone could react, the gnome had dropped lifeless to the ground, his blood spilling out on the leaf-covered path.
"By Brell's bloody orbs, RUN!" screamed the dwarf warrior, running back towards them. Behind the dwarf, Belrosian caught a glimpse of a tiny figure standing over the gnome's body. It raised its spear and pointed, and the terror-stricken dwarf stopped dead in his tracks. Literally.
"Brownies!" yelled Aildain. "Run for it!" The four survivors scattered. Belrosian turned and dashed off heedless into the forest. Tree branches caught at his mantle, and underbrush snagged the hem of his robes. As he ran, somehow the wizard was able cause a part of his mind to remain calm, allowing him to recall what he had read concerning brownies. They were reclusive and rarely seen, but fiercely protective of their part of the forest. It was nothing more than terrible luck that caused their party to blunder into one of the roving brownie scouts.
The four survivors became separated, but finally managed to meet up on the far edge of the forest, where the elvenwood ended and a mist-shrouded range of mountains began. Belrosian was relieved to see that his friend had survived. But then the wizard frowned. Benarque had a strange expression on his face, a look of wonder mingled with terror.
"Belrosian, guess what I saw in the forest," exclaimed the Gladesman. "A unicorn!"
"That is a portent of good fortune to come," said the bard, coming up to join them. "Or at least it is so held among my people." After the recent bloody encounter in the forest, the two friends agreed they could use all the good luck they could get.
Belrosian sat huddled beneath a rock overhang in the foothills. They were camped not far from the elvenwood.
"So," he grumbled, "have you found out where we are?" From the great vents in the earth, the erudite knew they had entered the Steamfont mountains, but other than that they were quite nearly lost. "We have spoken to some locals," the bard Aildain answered. He and the ranger Benarque had gone scouting about an hour before, and had just returned. "They told us we are near the city of Ak'Anon." The wizard nodded.
"Aildain, I can't help but notice that axe you have," Benarque said. The bard smiled, and pulled a large, steel-bladed axe from his belt. He handed it to the Gladesman, who hefted it, getting a feel for the weapon. "Nice," Benarque whistled, handing it back. "Where did you get it?"
Aildain smoothly took a few practice swings at the air with his axe before tucking it back into his belt. "Tis a minotaur axe," he said. "Minotaurs?" Benarque asked. "Yes, they are the enemies of the gnomes," answered Aildain. "They live in some labyrinthine caves further up in these mountains, to the northeast." Benarque stared up at the sky and shifted his weight.
Belrosian could see where this was going. Wearily, he closed his spellbook and placed it in his backpack. Picking up his runed totem staff, the wizard got to his feet and brushed off his robes. "Lead on," he sighed. Benarque grinned and set off briskly, heading to the northeast. The bard walked along next to him trying to stifle a grin of his own.
A short time later, they found themselves fighting halfway up a steep ridge overlooking a wide, bowl-shaped vale. Some giant clockwork ruins were below them, and they were near the minotaur caves. Harpies, elementals, drakes and the occasional rogue clockwork or skeleton had come at them, but they had the mountain at their backs and had stood their ground well. At last, they slew a minotaur slaver. The bard took its axe, and with a smile handed it to Benarque.
"Well," the wizard said, "it seems that the unicorn truly did grant you good luck Ben." Both friends thought the ranger was very lucky to have such a fine weapon practically fall into his lap, when they had very nearly met their deaths not long before. "Don't you agree, Aildain?" But when they looked up, the bard was gone.
Belrosian and Benarque had joined a group to hunt down bandits in the forest. Their leader was a bard named Aildain, and he had already recruited another wizard, a gnome and a dwarf. These particular bandits were lead by the sisters Nybright, renegades from Kelethin who were rumored to be encamped deep in the forest, where they waylaid innocent travellers.
"The Nybrights are the daughters of a high elf," the bard explained. "But their banditry has brought dishonor on the family name, and driven their father to drown his shame in the bottle."
"We are accustomed to fighting bandits," Belrosian said. "Benarque and I fought many of them in the Karanas, and we've learned to watch out for their tricks." All that seemed so long ago and far away now.
The six adventurers assembled between two hills leading down into the Lesser Faydark, and set out. The gnome and the dwarf were in the lead. Benarque, trotting along beside Belrosian, became more and more uneasy as they travelled down the path. Even the wizard could sense this part of the forest was somehow different from the Greater Faydark around Kelethin. Here it was eerily quiet, and the trees seemed not as old. "I see the tracks of orcs," Benarque noted. "But there is something else," he added quietly. "There is something ominous in the air here."
Suddenly, there was the sound of a spell being cast, and a flash of red light. Before anyone could react, the gnome had dropped lifeless to the ground, his blood spilling out on the leaf-covered path.
"By Brell's bloody orbs, RUN!" screamed the dwarf warrior, running back towards them. Behind the dwarf, Belrosian caught a glimpse of a tiny figure standing over the gnome's body. It raised its spear and pointed, and the terror-stricken dwarf stopped dead in his tracks. Literally.
"Brownies!" yelled Aildain. "Run for it!" The four survivors scattered. Belrosian turned and dashed off heedless into the forest. Tree branches caught at his mantle, and underbrush snagged the hem of his robes. As he ran, somehow the wizard was able cause a part of his mind to remain calm, allowing him to recall what he had read concerning brownies. They were reclusive and rarely seen, but fiercely protective of their part of the forest. It was nothing more than terrible luck that caused their party to blunder into one of the roving brownie scouts.
The four survivors became separated, but finally managed to meet up on the far edge of the forest, where the elvenwood ended and a mist-shrouded range of mountains began. Belrosian was relieved to see that his friend had survived. But then the wizard frowned. Benarque had a strange expression on his face, a look of wonder mingled with terror.
"Belrosian, guess what I saw in the forest," exclaimed the Gladesman. "A unicorn!"
"That is a portent of good fortune to come," said the bard, coming up to join them. "Or at least it is so held among my people." After the recent bloody encounter in the forest, the two friends agreed they could use all the good luck they could get.
Belrosian sat huddled beneath a rock overhang in the foothills. They were camped not far from the elvenwood.
"So," he grumbled, "have you found out where we are?" From the great vents in the earth, the erudite knew they had entered the Steamfont mountains, but other than that they were quite nearly lost. "We have spoken to some locals," the bard Aildain answered. He and the ranger Benarque had gone scouting about an hour before, and had just returned. "They told us we are near the city of Ak'Anon." The wizard nodded.
"Aildain, I can't help but notice that axe you have," Benarque said. The bard smiled, and pulled a large, steel-bladed axe from his belt. He handed it to the Gladesman, who hefted it, getting a feel for the weapon. "Nice," Benarque whistled, handing it back. "Where did you get it?"
Aildain smoothly took a few practice swings at the air with his axe before tucking it back into his belt. "Tis a minotaur axe," he said. "Minotaurs?" Benarque asked. "Yes, they are the enemies of the gnomes," answered Aildain. "They live in some labyrinthine caves further up in these mountains, to the northeast." Benarque stared up at the sky and shifted his weight.
Belrosian could see where this was going. Wearily, he closed his spellbook and placed it in his backpack. Picking up his runed totem staff, the wizard got to his feet and brushed off his robes. "Lead on," he sighed. Benarque grinned and set off briskly, heading to the northeast. The bard walked along next to him trying to stifle a grin of his own.
A short time later, they found themselves fighting halfway up a steep ridge overlooking a wide, bowl-shaped vale. Some giant clockwork ruins were below them, and they were near the minotaur caves. Harpies, elementals, drakes and the occasional rogue clockwork or skeleton had come at them, but they had the mountain at their backs and had stood their ground well. At last, they slew a minotaur slaver. The bard took its axe, and with a smile handed it to Benarque.
"Well," the wizard said, "it seems that the unicorn truly did grant you good luck Ben." Both friends thought the ranger was very lucky to have such a fine weapon practically fall into his lap, when they had very nearly met their deaths not long before. "Don't you agree, Aildain?" But when they looked up, the bard was gone.