"Welcome to my humble abode, my heroes!" the beast boomed, his eyes staring at them each in turn. "What have we here? Two humans, two dwarfs, a goblin and a halfling. Am I right in assuming you are some sort of adventuring party? I have been asleep for decades. It has been a long time since my loyal subjects brought me a tasty treat."

The six all stood frozen, staring up at the dragon with their mouths agape. All Deft could do was think, this is bad. This is bad. This is bad…

The dragon crouched down and stuck its head forward, resting it on the ground mere feet from the adventurers. No one moved. They all knew that if the dragon breathed fire on them, they were all dead.

"I wouldn't exactly call us a snack, you see," Twix said, striding forward a bit. "We're really sorry to burst into your lair like this, you know, without knocking or anything. We're really just trying to get…"

"Silence!" the dragon roared. Twix's eyes widened, and his mouth snapped shut.

"Did I ask you a question, little turd?" the dragon snarled. "Speak when you're spoken to, and you'll live a lot longer."

"Well…actually…you…um…did ask us a question, on whether or not we are adventurers. Which we are."

"Twix, shut up!" Deft hissed, never taking his eyes off the dragon.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the dragon boomed. "I am Thitanousus the Terrible! I am a god to these miserable kobolds!"

"And I am Twix Relkin…"

The dragon glared at the bard. "I don't care who you are! You are less than nothing in my sight, you little turds! I'll bet you've come to try to steal my treasure."

"Please, my lord," Deft said, his voice shaking, "we just want to leave. The kobolds told us there was a way out of these caverns…"

"There is. Through one of these tunnels. But you'll never get there alive."

While the dragon talked, Gareth had moved back to lean against the secret door, and he tried to open it without giving away to the dragon what he was doing. But it was futile. The door was closed fast. There would be no escape that way.

"I am inclined to let you leave this place," the dragon grinned, "if you answer me one riddle. If you cannot answer, then you will be my breakfast."

"Since you leave us no other choice," Ganth cried. "Ask us your riddle!"

"Very well. Let me see. I want to make it a good one." The dragon seemed to think for a few moments. "Aha! I have it. Stronger than any beast, rougher than any sea. Steadier than a favorable wind, and of me none shall be free. What is the answer? You have five seconds."

The party wracked their brains to come up with the answer, but no one spoke as the seconds ticked down. When they had one second left, Runt suddenly blurted out the answer.

"The Earth!"

The dragon's face drooped in disappointment. "Drat! Too easy. And I thought goblins were stupid. They certainly taste terrible! Very well, you guessed my riddle, but the game is not yet ended. I will let five of you go. The one remaining will be my snack. You all need to decide who that one shall be, and the decision must be unanimous. Begin the discussion."

Deft was terrified of this monstrous beast, but he also felt a sense of welling indignation rising in his soul. The dragon was toying with their lives, as if they meant nothing!

"There is no discussion," Ganth said wearily. "We are not going to play your game, dragon. We are leaving. If you intend to stop us, then do so."

The dragon reared up to its full height, and roared with all his might. They adventurers cowered and covered their ears. But the dragon didn't attack. He stood still, staring down at them with his terrible eyes.

"Uncle, don't," Gareth said, grabbing the cleric's arm. He spun him around to face him. Gareth's eyes were full of fear, but also calm acceptance.

"Tell them all to run, and keep running. I will buy you some time."

Ganth's heart lurched, and he could hardly believe what he was hearing. "No, my nephew! Do not do this! If we are to die, then let us all perish together! We…"

Gareth's grip tightened on his uncle's hand, and his eyes bore into his uncle's eyes. "Don't worry about me. The Mother will take me gently in her arms. She will soothe me and heal my wounds. Everything will be okay. I love you, uncle. Don't ever forget that. If you don't do this, you will all die. Now run. Do it!"

Ganth remained rooted to his spot. Gareth sprang into action. The dragon saw him move, and snaked his head downward. The dwarf threw his hammer with all his might, and it slammed into one of the dragon's eyes. The beast roared and shook his head in pain.

"GO!" Gareth shoved his uncle so hard that he nearly fell to his knees. The others ran, and Ganth followed them, hating himself for doing so. Maybe Gareth would escape. He tried not to think of anything else except getting out of these tunnels alive.

The others reached the tunnel and disappeared inside. Behind Ganth, the dragon roared as Gareth shouted a challenge.

The cleric stopped and looked back, torn between fleeing and dying beside his nephew. But the dragon took that choice out of his hands.

Gareth unsheathed the sword Drakedoom, and charged the dragon with a mighty cry of defiance. Thitanousus' head snapped downward, his jaws agape. He snatched up the dwarf and bit down with all his might. Gareth screamed in agony as the sharp teeth tore through his body.

The dragon shook his head like a dog worrying a bone, then split the dwarf out. Gareth landed hard on the stone floor of the cave, the sword Drakedoom flying from his grasp. Ganth thought he was dead, but then saw his nephew slowly moving, trying to get up.

Ganth was about to go to his aid, when the dragon lowered his head and breathed a gout of flame onto the dwarf. The cleric turned away, not wanting to see his nephew incinerated.

The dragon roared, snapping his head around to the escape tunnel.

Ganth turned and ran as fast as he could. Luckily for him, his new magical plate armor was much lighter than normal due to its magical enhancements. The dwarf wept as he ran, almost hoping that the dragon caught him and killed him.

The roaring and bellowing of the monster sounded from behind him, and the cleric expected searing flame to envelop him at any second. But the fire didn't come, and the dragon wasn't gaining on him. If anything, it seemed that he was falling behind.

The tunnel that led to the surface was barely wide enough for the dragon to pass through, and there were some areas where he had to squeeze himself though in order to pass. The tunnel was also not high, so Thitanousus couldn't run full out. His legs were bent, and he moved in a sort of half-run, half crawl.

The five ran for their lives, and after four minutes of going all out, they were starting to tire. But ahead of them they saw daylight filtering through a screen of vegetation.

They burst through the ivy vines at the cave exit and into the trees. They immediately ran for cover, hiding behind trees or in the thick underbrush.

With a terrific roar, the dragon smashed through the obscuring vegetation, and flew sharply upwards. The party could hear the flap of his huge wings and his occasional bellow.

Deft found himself cowering in a bed of ferns with Runt. He glanced over at him. "Are you okay?"

The goblin wheezed, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't speak.

They waited in silence, not daring to even move, hoping that the treetops above and the vegetation would hide them from the dragon's eyes. The roars and bellows of the beast receded, but still they remained where they were.

After twenty minutes, they dared to find each other and gather together.

Ganth's eyes were red with weeping. Deft moved and sat next to him.

"I am so sorry, Ganth."

The dwarf glanced at him and nodded. "Damn fool. It is so unfair. He survived the hobgoblins only to die at the hands of the dragon."

"Life itself is unfair," the fighter said, but he had no further words of wisdom.

"I am going back," the dwarf said.

"Back? Into the dragon's lair?"

"Yes. I want to recover my nephew's body, or what is left of it. I do not want any of you to come with me. If the dragon returns when I am still inside, leave without me."

"Are you sure you don't want us to…"

"What would it matter?" the dwarf growled. "Do you all want the privilege of dying beside me? No. I go alone."

The others said nothing.

Ganth stood up and looked down at Deft. "May I borrow your cloak?"

"Certainly, my friend. Be safe, and hurry back."

The cleric nodded absently, turned, and walked back into the cave.

"That was stupid," Bloom said. "If his nephew is dead, what does it matter if he recovers the body?"

Deft glared at her. "I am sure it matters a great deal to Ganth, and his family."

The thief shrugged, and leaned back against a tree.

About forty minutes, later, Ganth returned, bearing the body of Gareth wrapped in Deft's green cloak. Strapped to the dwarf's pack were his father's splint armor and Drakedoom. Ganth had not even considered the dragon's mound of treasure. In normal circumstances, a dwarf coming across a hoard of that size and value would have thought he'd died and gone to heaven, but Ganth didn't care. Recovering his nephew's body was more important to him.

Gareth had been like a son to him. Ten years prior, Ganth's brother Quartz and his own son Agate had been killed by hobgoblins. After the tragedy, Ganth had taken his nephew under his wing, trying to be a father to the young dwarf. They had been as close as father and son. And now he was dead.

"We should leave this place," Runt said weakly. He was still shaking in fright, his yellow eyes wide and watering fiercely.

"I think we should wait until night," Bloom said.

The dwarf scowled at her. "Why? The dragon is gone."

"We don't know that for a fact," Twix said. "He might be hiding somewhere, just waiting for us to come out into the open."

Bloom agreed reluctantly. "At least let us move further away from the dragon's lair."

They all agreed to that, and made their way southward for half a mile before finding a suitable campsite.

As they waited for nightfall, Twix told them all about the Righteous Rovers.

"I am inviting you all to join us," the halfling smiled. "We're only three in number now. We used to be a lot bigger, but we lost a couple members over the past few years. There was the elf ranger Illyon, Xaryon the magic-user, and the dwarf Thorbyat. The only ones left other than me are Sara Bootblack, and Gurp. Sara's a member of the Most Holy Order of the Silver Staff. That's a group that is made up mostly of undead hunters. Those are paladin's who have taken holy vows to hunt and destroy undead.

"Sara's real nice. She's pretty fanatical about destroying the undead. Some would even say obsessed. It's too bad about what happened to her, though."

"What happened?" Deft asked.

"Well, it was five years ago. She was twenty-five, and had just been considered as a candidate to be inducted into the Order. They sent her out on a quest to rid an evil tomb of its undead. You see, every member of the Order has to go on a quest before they can be inducted. From what she told me, she ran into a ghost in the tombs. They're pretty rare, but dangerous. Well, this ghost grabbed onto her, and their touch actually ages you! It aged her about twenty years. She was born twenty-five years ago, but physically she is forty-five! She used to have beautiful black hair, but now it's snow white from the touch of the ghost."

"That's unfortunate," Deft said.

"Oh, she's used to it. She's thankful that she even survived the encounter."

"I'm sure there are not many who can make that claim."

"Now I'll tell you about Gurp. He's a half-ogre, which is rare enough, but he's also a ranger and a druid! Probably the only one in the Five Cities! He's nice, too. A real gentle giant. Unless you piss him off. Then he goes nuts!"

"That's an unusual group," Deft said, "but I'm in if you want me."

"I do!"

"Count me and Runt in as well," Bloom grinned. "It doesn't sound like too bad a life, being a tomb raider."

The bard turned to the dwarf. "What about you, Sir Ganth?"

"I suppose I shall join your group, if there is a paladin in it. I have heard of Sara Bootblack, and I briefly made her acquaintance once. She is a steadfast and virtuous woman. This will be good for me. I fear that I have become a bit lazy in my questing. My higher ups are always reprimanding me for not going out among the Five Cities and helping people. This will make them happy."

"Then it's settled!" Twix cried. "Welcome to the Righteous Rovers!"

They waited until night fell, then made their way eastwards, down the slopes of the Hill. After two miles, they reached the river, and began the southward trek to the clearing where they had hidden their boat. They kept to the trees, and after another mile, they reached the meadow.

As the got the boat ready, Ganth kept looking up into the night sky. "If the dragon is waiting to ambush us, this would be the perfect spot."

"I know," Deft said. "But it's either that or we go forty miles north to the Verdun Bridge."

"Let's just get it over with," Bloom said. "I'm tired."

"We all are," Deft said.

They decided to risk it. They took their positions in the boat, and Ganth took the oars while Deft pushed the boat out before climbing in. They headed across the river, keeping anxious eyes on the starry sky above. Hopefully Thitanousus wasn't the type of dragon that held a grudge. Deft could see Fort Gaston, its walls lit by torches. The fort was still standing. The fighter had been afraid that it wouldn't be, that the dragon would have taken out his ire on the small settlement.

They reached the eastern shore, and praised their luck. Ganth said it wasn't luck, it was the will of the Mother.

They made their way to the gates, which were shut for the night, but the guards knew Ganth and let them pass. Deft was about to head for the Lion's Den, when Ganth invited them all to the Mother's House, the Temple of Amandine. They all accepted. The dwarf brought them inside the beautiful temple, and they all felt a sense of peace come over them like a favorite blanket.

Deft suddenly realized how tired he was. It had been an eventful day. Ganth showed them to their rooms, tiny cubicles with a fireplace, bed, table and chair. He wished them all good night, then went to attend to the body of his cousin. He knew what he had to do, and he wasn't happy about it. He had to tell Gareth's mother Beryl that her son was dead. And then he had a funeral to plan. He also had to break the news to Cullen's family.

Before she went to sleep, Bloom dumped the coins, gems, and jewels from her pack and sorted the coins into five piles. The gems and jewels would need to be appraised and sold, but there were no jewelers in Fort Gaston. The thief reminded herself to ask Ganth if he would buy them from her so they could split the wealth. The dwarf was rich, after all, and he was a dwarf. They loved that kind of stuff.

The coins didn't amount to much once divided five ways, but Bloom was certain they'd a lot of gold for the gems and jewels. She went to bed soon after, dreaming pleasant dreams.

Deft slept fitfully. The bard and the goblin fell asleep rather quickly. Ganth stayed up all night, grieving for his nephew.

The next morning, a temple guard came to Ganth's chambers, telling him that two old women were here to see him. The dwarf roused his friends, and they met with Rosalinda and Rosabella to seal the deal they had made.

The sisters, of course, wanted the Rod of Cancellation, which Runt had estimated to be worth eleven thousand gold pieces. The sisters acted like they were mortified over this offer, and countered with three thousand. Ganth snorted and said he could come down to eight thousand, and that was it. The sisters countered with four, saying that was the highest they would go. Ganth was about to end the bargaining, but the sisters increased their price to five thousand. After much hemming and hawing, the dwarf grudgingly dropped his price down to seventy-five hundred. The sisters went up to six thousand. Ganth countered with seven. They met at sixty-five hundred, and shook on it. The Rod of Cancellation was theirs.

Bloom was extremely angry at the dwarf, insisting he could have gotten the full value from the old women.

"I have been making deals like this for over a hundred years, young lady. They would have walked, and then we would get nothing. Be glad we got what we did."

The thief grumbled about it, but after calculating her share of the money at thirteen hundred golds (plus one hundred and twenty five from Ganth's reward), she couldn't stay in a sour mood.

The companions stayed at the temple, and attended the funerals of both Gareth Ironhand and Cullen Defilch. The families of both the boys thanked them for risking their own lives to learn the fate of the two. Deft was heartbroken for the families, as were Twix and Runt. Bloom shed not one tear. Ganth welled up several times during the services, but tried to keep his emotions in check.

They left Fort Gaston three days later, heading north to the city of Verdun, Deft's homeland. From there, they would take the Dinard Trail that ran southwest, and skirted the southern edge of the Merecage, the great swamp around which the Five Cities had grown.

The day after they left, a few hours before noon, a man came into the Lion's Den Inn. He had an unsavory look, Norbert the innkeep thought. At first he thought the person was a goblin, but then he realized that he was too tall to be one. Human, then. Or human mixed with goblin. The man was clad in a gray cloak with the hood pulled up around his face. He wore plate armor beneath the cloak, and a mace hung at his side. Norbert didn't like the look of him.

The man walked up to the bar, and sat down on one of the stools.

"What's your poison," the innkeep said sourly.

"I am not here for your food and drink," the man said in a sinister voice. "I am looking for someone."

Norbert looked him in the eye. "Who?"

The man grinned, revealing teeth that were filed to sharp points. "The party of Deft Bladehaft. Twix Relkin. Bloom. Runt. Ganth. Are they in town?"

Norbert knew exactly who he was asking about, but he had a feeling that this man had evil intent towards his friend Ganth and his new companions.

"Don't know," said the innkeep. "What do you want them for? And what is your name…"

"My name has no bearing in this matter," the man snarled. "There is a bounty on their heads."

Norbert scowled. "Bounty? For what?"

"Thievery and murder. I leave you these. I would appreciate it if you would post them in your inn."

The man pulled some rolled up pieces of parchment from his belt pouch. He lay them on the bar and rolled them out.

Norbert glanced at the paper, then turned an unfriendly eye on the hooded man. "I don't know what's become of them."

The man grinned again, his eyes taking on a dangerous look. "You will, soon enough, when you hear tales of how I slaughtered them and hung their heads on pikes around the walls of my monastery. Good day."

Nobert snorted, glaring at the man as he left the inn. That guy was bad news. The innkeep took up the bounty notices and threw them in the fire.

BOUNTY NOTICE

DATED THE 25TH DAY OF FIVEMONTH

There is a bounty of five hundred gold pieces per head on the following persons. They are known to frequent the cities of Verdun and Evreux.

The following persons are wanted for thievery and murder and are to be delivered ALIVE to the guards at the gates of the fort of Guido Gaston.

DEF BLADEHAFT – human male, Long black hair. Carries a sword and a bow.

BLOOME – human female. Red hair in a crew cut. Scar across face. Wears leather.

RUNT – goblin wizard. Wears peasant clothing.

TWIX WELKIN – halfling minstrel. Blonde hair. Carries a bandora.

GANT GLINSPEAR – dwarf. Black hair. Member of the Order of the Green Dragon.