They clambered down the steep western slope of the hill on which they stood, and pushed their way steadily through the tangled undergrowth, until they at least broke free and stood in a small clearing filled with different varieties of wildflowers. This clearing lay on the eastern side of the long pond.

Deft glanced up at the hilltop, now almost due south of their position. The lake seemed to run close to its foot.

"We should get up to the top of the Hill," he said, pointing. "That way we'll be able to see everything."

The dwarf nodded. "And everything on this blasted Hill will also be able to see us! But it is a chance I am willing to take."

Feeling that they might finally be getting somewhere, they walked south, through the flowery glade, and again into the tangled underbrush of the forest. At the southern end of the lake, another stream ran into it, and they followed its course, soon coming to another clearing, this one complete with a waterfall. They scouted out the slope, and found a spot that gave them easy passage without having to climb. The stream flowed out from yet another pond, and they walked along its eastern side, with a steep hill on their left. After marching through the trees and bushes for two furlongs, they noticed a long clearing running along the far side of the lake. They all stopped and stood, staring at something that caught their attention.

"What are those?" Deft asked.

"Tents," Bloom said.

Now that he knew what he was looking at, the fighter could identify them as tents indeed. There were five of them, and among them stood three dome-shaped huts fashioned of what looked like twigs and leaves.

"Now who do you suppose lives there?" the dwarf asked. "Friend, or foe?"

"It may be hobgoblins," Runt whispered. "They have been known to build and live in such structures."

"Or it may be something else," the cleric said. "I think we should get a little closer, and maybe send in our clever thief for a closer look."

Bloom arched her eyebrows at the dwarf. "Sure, Ganth, why not? I'm game for mostly anything on this little expedition. But I'm not about to swim across the pond. Let's head back north, and cross the stream."

They made their way back to where the stream ran out from the northern edge of the lake, and they waded through the chilly waters to the far side. They crept slowly along through the trees, until they could see the northern edge of the clearing. The huts and tents were about one and a half furlongs to the south. Ganth motioned for the others to crouch down. Now they could see that the summit of the Hill was directly west of this encampment, and they wondered if that was somehow telling. Bloom whispered to them to wait for her, and she crept through the trees, heading west. Her plan was to get around to the western side of the clearing and have a look from there. The others sat in a bed of ferns and waited.

"Good luck," Deft whispered after her, but she didn't respond. He hoped that nothing happened to her. Determined to act as lookout, he crept right up to the edge of the clearing and hid himself behind a tree. He had a good vantage point to observe anything coming or going into or out of the huts and tents.

After about ten minutes, Bloom returned, with a grim smile on her face.

"They're hobs, all right. I could hear them arguing, although I don't speak the language. I should have brought Runt with me."

"How many?" Ganth asked.

"I think about eight or nine."

The dwarf thought for a moment. "That might be too many for us to handle. But they might have Gareth and Cullen. Could you return, and take the goblin with you this time? You might be able to learn some useful information."

"Sure," Bloom smiled. "We'll be back soon. Stay out of trouble."

The thief and magic-user crept out of sight, and Deft went back to his watch on the tents. He saw no sign of the hobgoblins; they must have been keeping to the inside of their tents.

"It is most likely a guard post," Ganth said. "I highly doubt there are only nine hobgoblins on this Hill. But it is no use trying to fight that many. I do not want to run the risk of us getting caught or killed. We have to use other tools on this job, including stealth and intelligence."

Deft nodded. "I agree. If other adventurers came here, they probably thought they could destroy the hobs, and the hobs most likely overwhelmed them."

"I just hope we can learn something about Gareth. Even if he is dead, I would like to know. Then we can go home. But if he is still alive, and being held somewhere, I want to try to rescue him."

Deft stared into the dwarf's face. It was set with a fierce determination the dwarfs were known for. "Just us? Couldn't we go back to the fort for reinforcements?"

"It all depends on the situation."

The cleric and the fighter waited for half an hour. Deft was starting to get seriously worried that something might have happened to Bloom and Runt, when they reappeared.

"What's going on?" the fighter asked. "Did you run into any trouble?"

"Naw," Bloom shrugged. "But we saw two more hobs come up from the south, and we figured we'd beat it before any more showed up."

"Did you learn anything useful?" Ganth asked.

"Not much, I'm sorry to report," said the goblin. "But we heard the hobs talking about a monastery, and how they'd be glad to get back there in a few days. The rest was typical goblinoid talk, insulting each other, complaining about their wives and the guard duty. They were also arguing about the dice game they're playing. One of them kept on winning, so they thought that perhaps he was cheating. But we learned nothing useful."

Deft thought back to the conversation he'd had the night before with the Old Timer. "You know, when I was speaking with the old fellow at the inn, he mentioned an abandoned monastery, that's supposed to be haunted by the spirits of dead clerics."

Ganth's expression turned thoughtful. "I have heard that rumor before, as well. That might explain the grotesque statue we saw. This monastery, if it exists, could be from the same time period."

"The monastery must be real," said Bloom. "And these hobs are using it as a base."

"I am sure that is where they have taken Gareth," the dwarf said. "If he still lives, that is. Now, if we could only learn where this monastery is, we could try to rescue him."

"And how do you propose we do that?" the thief grinned. "Start chopping off hobgoblin fingers?"

"No, these bastards will not divulge anything, and there are too many for us to take on alone."

"We could wait until their guard duty is up," Deft suggested. "And follow them back."

"We could," Bloom smiled, "if we have a few days to wait around. By then, Gareth and Cullen will most likely be dead, if they aren't already."

Runt offered his opinion. "The only sensible option at this point is to keep exploring, and hope we discover this monastery on our own. If these hobs are here acting as guards, then this place must be close by."

"You are right," Ganth said, his eyes going to the summit of the Hill, that overlooked the lake and the small goblinoid garrison. "Let us climb the summit, and see if we can find what we are looking for."

The others agreed to this course of action. Bloom led the way, and they passed through the forest, heading in a southwesterly direction. They soon reached the base of the summit, and began climbing up a moderate slope.

They reached the summit, and had just turned around to take in the view, when they heard a soft thud behind them. Whirling around, they saw a small figure standing ten feet away from them, as if he had just appeared out of thin air. It was the halfling they had seen at the clearing with the magical raspberry bushes. He wore a cuirass of studded leather armor, and a green cloak with black boots. He bore a backpack with a battle axe and a twelve-stringed cittern strapped to it. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and he wore a roguish grin as he pointed his short bow at them. The others reached for their weapons, but the halfling stopped them. "I wouldn't do that. I can shoot your eyes out before any of you get your weapons out of their sheaths."

"But you couldn't kill us all," Deft said, lowering his bow and the hand that was reaching for an arrow from his quiver.

The halfling blinked in confusion. "Kill you? No, not at all! I don't want to do that! Why would I kill you? I was only kidding, you know. Can't you take a joke? I just want to make sure I'm not making a mistake here. I have one question for you, and if you answer right, we can be friends."

Ganth snorted. "What is this question?"

"Are you friends of the hobgoblins, or what?"

The dwarf laughed. "Hardly. We are only here searching for my nephew, who came here to explore the Hill, and has disappeared. We figure the hobgoblins have him. Do you know anything about it?"

The halfling lowered his bow, seemingly satisfied with the dwarf's answer. The others moved their hands away from their weapons, and relaxed somewhat. Deft noted, however, that their bodies were still tensed, ready for action.

"I haven't seen any dwarfs here. Birds, squirrels, stuff like that, but no dwarfs." He pointed at Ganth. "Except you, that is. Right now, you see. At this moment."

"What are you doing on these accursed slopes, if I may ask?" Bloom said.

The halfling smiled. "Oh, exploring. Or looking for hobgoblins, rather. You see, I'm a bard, but I specialize in hunting hobs. Now you might say to yourself, self, why would a bard be hunting hobgoblins? And then you would most likely answer, I haven't the slightest idea. But I'll tell you. I have a score to settle with them from way back. I'm from the woods around Dinard, that's a town along the southwestern edge of the Merecage. I had heard the rumors about this so-called Horror on the Hill, and decided to come and see for myself what all the fuss was about."

"Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Deft Bladehaft, of Verdun. This is Bloom and Runt, of Evreux, and here is the estimable Sir Ganth Glintspear, Knight of the Order of the Green Dragon, from Fort Gaston."

The halfling bowed. "My name is Twix Relkin. You can call me Twix. Most people do. Actually, I don't care what you call me, as long as you don't call me late for dinner."

The bard laughed, but the others exchanged puzzled glances.

They exchanged pleasantries. Deft felt no threat from this halfling. If he had wanted to kill them, he would undoubtedly have shot first and asked questions later. The fighter glanced at Ganth, and the dwarf nodded slightly. The tension left all their bodies.

"So, Twix, you say you are here hunting hobgoblins," Ganth said. "We have that much in common. We are here, as I said, looking for my nephew Gareth, and his friend Cullen. You said you have not seen any other dwarfs around, but what about humans, perhaps?"

The cleric described Gareth's friend Cullen, and the bard nodded negatively. "I haven't seen any humans, other than the two old ladies. And two hobgoblins, guarding the southern end of that clearing down there. I steered clear of them, and came up here to get a good look at the countryside. Which, I assume, is what you are doing as well?"

"We are," Bloom said. "There are hobgoblins guards in those tents down there. We're trying to avoid detection, while we search for Ganth's nephew. I was spying on the hobs, and I heard them mention a monastery. Did you see any buildings on the Hill that could pass for a monastery?"

"No. The only building I saw was the one the old ladies live in. But there could be an old monastery around here. They didn't tell me either way. They told me about the monsters that wander around out here, about the hobs, the goblins, and ogres, and undead and so forth, but nothing about a monastery."

"Who are these old ladies you're talking about?" Deft asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Their names are Rosalinda and Rosabella. They're sisters. They live in a little house down at the southwestern edge of this peak here. One of them is a cleric, and the other a magic-user. They have gray hair and smell like mothballs."

The fighter frowned. "Magic-user? Are they friendly? I heard a rumor of an evil magic-user who lives around here. Her home looks small, but it is really a large manor house where she keeps the spirits of those she has killed imprisoned for all eternity."

Twix laughed. His laugh was that of a small child. "Well, that's certainly interesting! But no, they're both quite friendly, I assure you. I just met them this morning. They shared their tea and spice cake with me. They have a little farm down there. I can show it to you, if you'd like. But what is even more interesting is that I struck a deal with them. You see, it took the giving of quite a bit of gold, on my part, to even get any information out of them. They said that no one gets something for nothing, or something to that effect. Once I paid them off, they started talking. They told me about the monsters that walk the Hill, and about this guard post here. They also told me about an old ogre that wanders about. They told me where I could find some magic berries that would heal any wounds I might get in fighting the ogre, and they also told me that they would heal me themselves, if the berries didn't completely do the trick."

Bloom laughed. "You agreed to take on an ogre, all by yourself? You must be either quite brave, or quite stupid."

Twix chuckled. "A little of both, I'd say. I haven't made my mind up completely on whether or not I'm going to go after this ogre. Or I hadn't, until I met you. Now I'm leaning more on the side of doing it. Facing the ogre, I mean. And once I do, I will have quite the tale to tell! You see, as a bard, that's what I do. I love stories and songs, especially ones about me! I'll make you all famous, trust me!"

"Did these sisters tell you why they wanted the ogre dead?" Ganth asked.

"They did. One of them said the ogre has been threatening them lately. You see, they told me that they were here long before the monsters started moving in, but after a fight with the hobs, in which they showed their skill in the magic arts, the monsters left them mostly alone. That was until lately, when the ogre started trying to extort money from them, saying he would burn down their house if they didn't start paying money for protection. Which I believe is quite illegal, and this ogre should know better."

Bloom smirked. "If these women are so powerful, why do they need to hire someone to do their dirty work?"

The bard shrugged. "Well, they are old. They might have been adventurers at some point in their lives, but I'd say now it's easier for them to hire the job out to some qualified contractors. So, what do you say? Do you want to help me behead this ogre?"

The others looked to Ganth, their de facto leader.

"I do not know, Twix," said the dwarf. "My first instinct is telling me no, but my head says yes. This ogre might be in league with the hobs, and might have information about this monastery. Even if we cannot force the information out of him, we could try to trick him or bribe him. Ogres are notoriously greedy and stupid."

"That they are," the halfling laughed.

"Before we head off to confront this ogre, show us where these two old ladies live. I have a mind to pay them a visit, as long as they are truly as friendly as you claim."

"Sure thing, Sir Ganth. It's right over here."

The bard turned and began walking across the wooded summit of the Hill, heading southwest.

The dwarf turned to the others and spoke in a whisper. "I said that so we can find out if our little friend is telling the truth or not."

Deft nodded. "I think he is. He's obviously not a hobgoblin, and I can't imagine he's in league with them. If he wanted us dead, he could have filled us full of arrows before we even saw him."

"Nevertheless, watch him," the dwarf said. "I am not about to trust anyone or anything we meet on this Hill. Remember all those other adventurers who never returned? They may have fallen to treachery."

"Agreed," Bloom said. "Trust no one. Not even yourself."

They followed the halfling, who moved surely and quickly through the undergrowth. They reached the southwestern side of the summit, and stared down the steep slope of the hill to a long, narrow clearing below. Most of its area was covered with crops and fruit-bearing trees. A barn stood near the trees, with a cow chewing grass inside a fenced-in pen.

A small, white-washed cottage with green shutters stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded by gardens of brightly-colored flowers. Three gravel-covered walkways connected the house with points of the surrounding forest to the northwest, southwest, and southeast points of the clearing.

"There is the house of Rosalinda and Rosabella," the bard said. "Their house is strange. Inside, it's a two-story mansion, filled with all sorts of paintings, ornaments, and knickknacks. Your typical grandma's house in the city, I'd say. But these two seem to live pretty high on the hog. Probably get their money from bilking explorers out of their gold, in exchange for information."

"Or," said Ganth grimly, "by killing the explorers, and selling their equipment."

Twix shrugged. "I really doubt that. If they had wanted to kill me, they could have just poisoned the tea and cake. I made sure not to eat or drink until they had first done the same. I felt like I could trust them, when I first met them, but I'm not a complete idiot, by any means. I wouldn't still be alive and hunting hobgoblins, if I was, would I?"

"Well, at least you are intelligent," the dwarf said. "And most likely wise, as bards are said to be. All right, Relkin, you have answered my questions. We shall stop in and have tea and spice cake with these two fine ladies once we deal with the ogre. Did these two tell you where he lives?"

"They sure did. I can lead you there, if you like."

"Surely. But first, since we are up here, let us get a good view of the surrounds. We might even be able to spot this monastery."

They spent half an hour walking the summit of the hill, taking in expansive views from all directions. To the east, they could see the clearing where they had landed, and the one with the long pond and the berries, where they had first seen Twix. To the northeast lay the other swampy clearing at the edge of the Shrill, and two much larger clearings to the west of it.

To the northeast lay the clearing with the boulders, the cave, and the strange statue, and to the north the long lake that connected to the pond where the hobgoblins had their garrison.

To the south and the west was nothing but forested hills gently sloping down into a vast stretch of woodland, but to the northwest lay a gigantic clearing, running north to south, much larger than any of the others they had seen. It appeared dry and withered, and mostly grassless.

Ganth pointed in that direction. "Is that where the ogre lives?"

"No," said the bard. "He lives in a cave about half a mile southwest of the women's cottage. We can reach it by taking one of the trails that leads out of their clearing."

"Should we meet with them, then?" Deft asked Ganth. "Since we have to go that way anyway?"

The cleric pursed his lips. "No. I mean, we will not go knocking on their door just yet. But if they happen to come out and greet us, we shall surely speak with them."

The five descended the summit, and cut diagonally southwest across the sisters' clearing. The door to the cottage faced the east, and there was a window decorated with white, embroidered curtains. As they passed by the house, Deft thought he saw someone staring out the western window. But they disappeared from view as quickly as he had seen them.

"I guess this will prove whether or not these old bitties are truly friendly," Bloom grinned to Deft. "We're trespassing on their land. Most oldsters don't appreciate that."

The halfling glanced over to the house. "Oh, I don't think they'll care, since they've already met me. Seeing you guys with me, they'd probably just think that I met some new friends."

"Let us hope so," Ganth muttered.

As they walked, they discussed their plans for fighting the ogre.

"We shall try to talk to him, at first," said the cleric. "Which is most certainly pointless. If we cannot get any information out of him by threats, trickery, or bribery, then we shall be forced to attack. But he may very well attack us first and without much provocation. Be wary and keep your weapons handy. Runt, use your magic, if you have to. I will do the same."

"I have some spells that might be beneficial," the goblin said. "I can envelop him in cobwebs, or make him sick with a sulfurous cloud. But I will need to cast these spells before anyone closes with the ogre. The spell will affect you as well if you are in the way."

"I have a few tricks," Twix grinned, "as well as my bow. I'm an expert archer. It's mostly skill, but I get a little help from these."

The bard held up his arms, and they noticed he wore a pair of silver bracers traced with intricate runes.

"Ah," Runt nodded. "Bracers of Archery, I presume?"

The bard shrugged. "I suppose that's what you'd call them. With the five of us against him, this ogre won't stand much of a chance. Hopefully he'll talk, and then die without putting up too much of a fight."

"I pray to it is so," the cleric said grimly.

Deft felt a lump form in his throat. He hated the thought of killing any living creature, including this ogre, in cold blood. He almost hoped the ogre attacked them first. That would ease the fighter's guilt if they had to slay him. But Deft also reminded himself that ogres were evil, hateful bullies, that loved causing death and destruction, and most of them fully deserved whatever fate befell them.