Insidious Story

Foreword

I was introduced to Dungeons and Dragons (or D&D) in my 30s. My younger self had heard of it, but dismissed it as some nerdy pencil-and-paper dice rolling game. Boy was I missing out. I owe a “thank you” to Joe D for introducing this amazing game to me. Better late than never, right?

If you’ve heard of D&D but never played, you don’t know what you’re missing.

This game has connected me with friends in ways few other experiences can. I’d wager you never really know someone until you’ve played D&D with them.

Cask and Vine introduced Joe D to me and my wife. Spending many late nights at 1 E Broadway, we formed a deeper friendship. This led to us establishing a weekly board game hang out. He and his wife introduced us to many of their literally hundreds of gaming options. Then D&D happened.

We sit down at the table and Joe presents us with a few choices of different character classes to play. Do I want to be a wizard? Do I want to be warrior? I make my selection and Joe slides over a piece of paper, my “character sheet”. It has a whole lot of numbers on it. Ability scores, ability score modifiers, proficiency bonus, initiative. In addition to these unfamiliar terms and associated numbers, I see multiple books across the table. I am told they are the rules of the game. Overwhelmed would be an accurate description of how this game makes you feel at first. Joe, our Dungeon Master (or DM), did a great job of simplifying the game and reminding us how things worked whenever we forgot.

D&D
When you have a good group of people playing D&D, you’d swear it accelerates time.

In what felt like 40 minutes, 4 hours later we had delved into the depths of a dungeon besting skeletons and monstrosities. We had righted wrongs, saved the world, and I even found a magical sword. As we were completing the session we were told what has come to be one of my favorite phrases to hear, “you all level up.” You ever go to the movie theater and for 2 hours you feel like you are in a different reality? You feel fully immersed in the world that the film has created for you? Imagine that feeling, but in D&D you get to be one of the main characters and contribute to the telling of the story.

After that first time I was hooked. I wanted to be a part of a “campaign”. In contrast to the “one-shot”, or a single play game, a campaign is intended to be multiple sessions. Each new session is a continuation from the prior session. You play maybe once a week, or every other week. When you sit down at the table as a player, Tony is no longer. Sorin the sorcerer is ready to get down to business. In our campaign, Joe again assumed the role of Dungeon Master. The DM is the person who not only creates the world and presents encounters, but also has the responsibility of playing every NPC (or non-player-character). NPCs are the bartender, or the monsters we will fight. The DM is the lens in which we, the players, see the world we are playing.

So you’ve read this far as someone who has never played D&D before. You still have no idea how the game works. Hopefully the following helps.

You’re told by your DM that you arrive at the gate of a city and the guards won’t let you in. What do you do? Maybe you try to convince the guards to let you in? Maybe you sneak around and look for a different entrance? Or perhaps you turn to violence and choose to attack the guards? Each of these choices will be met with a roll of a 20 sided die (or a “D20”). Your goal is to get a high enough number to influence the outcome in the way that you were intending. Depending on your character’s abilities, you may get to add something to your D20 roll. Let’s say you want to try to convince the guard to let you in. Joe the DM will ask you to make a “persuasion check”, so you roll your D20. You see a 12 and get to add a bonus (let’s say +3) because you’re a charismatic character. You say “15!” back to the DM, unsure if that is good enough. The DM voices the guard and says, “10 gold and I never saw you enter.” So you hand the guard 10 gold. Success, you’ve entered the city! Awesome, now you’re a D&D pro.

Our 4-some (my wife and I, and Joe-the-DM and his wife) spent over a year playing in our first campaign. We even had the pleasure of Andy Day (“Sora the Paladin”) joining us for the 2nd half. Looking back on this experience I realized D&D is more than just a game. It’s more than rolling dice, wearing a costume, or talking in a funny voice. It gives you the opportunity to learn about yourself. For me, I realized that while being the one to overcome a challenge felt great, it was even more rewarding when I contributed to the success of another player. This is something I’ve taken away from the game which I try to apply in real-life. As cliché as it sounds, helping others is a reward all to itself. This is even the case in life despite not being told afterward, “you’ve leveled up”.

Now I play in Insidious. The campaign showcasing Andy Day as Dungeon Master and the inspiration for a series of epic beer releases. If you know Andy Day, you’ll agree with me when I say he has no shortage of passion for life and his projects. You can picture him atop the Cask and Vine bar singing, or as a train conductor opening a showing of The Polar Express at the Derry Opera House, or maybe as the best damn Jack Sparrow you’ve ever seen. He brings all that and more to this campaign. I’m thrilled he is sharing our story with you, a story that is still in-the-making. If the beers are half as good as this Dungeons and Dragons campaign is, I can assure you you’re in for an amazing experience.

– Tony Y. (“Dack Faden”)

Prologue

Vander stood in the morning sunlight in the grass-covered backyard of his parents’ estate with his right arm outstretched. His silken off-white sleeve was pulled slightly back to prevent its ruffles from interfering with his hand movements. Vander’s purple eyes narrowed.

“Fructum manu mea.”

A translucent skeleton hand appeared in front of him. Vander winces at the boney hand he just conjured.

“Not exactly what I was hoping for” he muttered to himself.

Under Vander’s control, the spectral hand moves across the yard to the stone patio and over to the wrought iron table where his cup of tea sits still-steaming.

“Alright, the moment of truth” he said as the hand’s bony fingers grip the teacup and slowly lift it off the table and bring it towards its creator.
“You know that will certainly frighten mother, dear Vander” said a soft voice from the stone walkway behind him.

Startled, Vander’s concentration breaks causing him to dismiss the hand. The teacup fell to the ground, breaking into several pieces splashing his morning tea across the inset stones. Vander turned to look at the tall slender figure behind him.

“And now I think she’s going to beat you for breaking her teacup” says the woman with a wry grin.

“Don’t worry, she hardly ever used that cup.”

Vander looked at his sister in dismay. A light salty sea breeze causes her long black hair to dance across her shoulders.

“I’d have been sipping out of that teacup in a moment if you hadn’t startled me, Viola…and as for the hand, yes, I know. I have the words and somatic component down” he continued “but for some reason it always manifests itself as a skeleton’s hand.”

“I’m no wizard, Vander, but isn’t that in your control? I thought the manifestation was a part of your consciousness?”

Vander leaned down where the broken pieces of teacup lie and begins to pick them up.

“Well technically it comes from your subconscious, so I don’t really have control over that specifically” he said matter-of-factly.

“I see, so deep down you’re a creep!” she responded playfully. “I guess I should be glad you were only trying to pick up a teacup and not a sword. You’d likely cut your arm off!”

“The encouragement is overwhelming, V.”

Viola leaned down and begins to help Vander pick up the pieces.

“What are you two up to?” rings a voice from the archway to the house.
Vander and Viola turned to see their mother standing just outside the entry to the house.

“I was just helping Vander clean up after breakfast tea, mother” said Viola innocently.

Looking disapprovingly at Vander “Vander, that isn’t one of my teacups, now is it?”

Picking up another small shard, Vander slowly stood and turned to his mother.

“Yes mother. I am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Even before finishing his sentence Vander could sense his mother’s disappointment, and not just because he was holding pieces of a broken teacup.

“Remember tonight is the annual Dranlake Banquet. You are both be expected to be there” she said, first looking at Viola then to Vander “and no unexpected visitors, Vander.”

“Yes mother” Vander replied quietly as she turned to return to the house.
Viola turned to Vander with a frown “Oh dear Vander, I am sorry. I do miss that cat, too.”

“It’s alright V. I am happy for you this evening. I know that father is at least equally as excited about seeing you excel as he is disappointed in my magic capabilities. I’m also excited to see Dack and ask him how his final weeks of training have gone.”

“Speaking of disappointments…” said Viola, her eyes rolling.

“I know. I should be grateful that I have been blessed with these arcane abilities. I cannot imagine living in a house with two parents AND two sisters wielding magic and being the one person unable to. He’s a good man, V… not to mention he’ll be one of the few people not looking down his nose tonight.”

Viola laughed. “That’s for sure. Let’s get inside before mother thinks you’re causing any more trouble out here.”

Viola turned and began to walk across the stone patio towards the house. Vander stood and watched as she opened the door and stepped inside. He couldn’t help but smile. She had such a softness to her. Her world was so bright. Viola always seemed to find a reason to believe things would be alright. Vander’s thoughts were interrupted as a cold droplet of rain broke over his left cheek. He hadn’t noticed the clouds moving in, but the second and third cold raindrops splashing down on him brought him back to reality and his smile faded.

Chapter 1 | Journeying North

It was about 9 o’clock in the morning when Zuri made her way into the market square to setup in her usual spot. The street was already bustling with activity as the morning sun warmed her soft fair skin. Music filled the streets and mother’s called after children to stay close-by as they shopped. Zuri continued towards the center of the city. The meat vendor already had a half dozen fresh cuts hanging from his cart’s old wooden overhang as she made her way by.

“I could definitely go without that smell first thing in the morning” she muttered under her breath as she dug her quarterstaff firmly into the ground and picked up her pace.

Zuri noticed mostly familiar faces walking around today as she made her way through the busy dusty street and took a space beside her favorite fruit vendors. She set down her pack and pulled back her long brown hair from her face, scanning the crowd. It had been six months since she left her home in the mountains, and she was beginning to lose hope. She had planned on making some money along the way as she traveled and to find some information about her heritage; in particular, her father Tomás’ whereabouts. He was going to have some hard questions to answer once she found him, that much was certain.

“Good morning, Zuri!” called the man behind the fruit. “That’s a beautiful dress you have on this morning.”

Zuri looked down at the flowing red dress which was broken up by patches of yellow and white. She had sewn it together the night before using some fabric purchased in the market a week before. The colors matched the grip on her quarterstaff, which gave her a certain sense of peace.

“Thank you, Samuel” she said walking over to his cart. “Have you got any of those pears I like today?”

He smiled and took out a yellow pear from a stash behind the cart.
“In fact, I do, young one!”

Ordinarily, Zuri would have taken offense to being referred to as young one had it been anyone else. Having witnessed her own father kill her mother in cold blood, escaping to the mountains and spending the better part of her teenage years training with a Drow in caves had left her feeling like she had already lived a lifetime and had no desire to be patronized simply because she was not yet 20 years old. Samuel, however, was simply a kind soul who took an interest in people. He was genuine and she was happy to have had that in her life these past few months.

“Samuel, you are fantastic. Thank you” Zuri said as she reached over to collect the fruit and hand him a piece of copper.

“Keep your money, this one is on me” he stated warmly. “And I told you, you can call me Sam!”

Zuri allowed herself a short smile “Thank you, Sam.”

Zuri turned and walked back to her pack, taking a bite out of the fresh fruit. It was slightly tart and had a crisp bite to it. Just what she needed to get moving.

“Well let’s see what today brings” she said to herself, pulling her money bag out and setting it in front of her space. She leaned down to pick up her quarterstaff and took another bite of the pear. Street performers were treated well here, which is probably why she had stuck around this long. For the onlookers, her performance was a series of quick twists, turns and spins allowing her clothes to float around in a flurry of colors. These observers would throw copper pieces into her bag as she would spin and swing her quarterstaff with deliberate intent, clapping at her prowess. For Zuri, of course, it was a day spent practicing her technique, and each simulated strike was meant to connect with the man she vowed to take revenge upon. If that was entertainment for some, so be it.

As Zuri turned to face the street and took another bite from her pear, she was pulled from her thoughts by a most peculiar sight. Across the street was a small cluster of buildings, including the City of Hay Library. Zuri had been there once or twice to look up family histories but hadn’t really ever noticed the wooden posts that supported an outdoor bench. She was quite aware of them now, however, as she looked on to see a large humanoid cat brushing its face against the post.

Zuri, along with half the street looked on as the black with brown-stripes cat-person seemingly shrunk into a huddled position, eyes closed in the warm sun. Zuri realized suddenly that she had been staring and frowned. She of all people should know better than to gawk at an unusual appearance. Zuri took one last bite of her pear, picked up her money bag and made her way across to the curious cat person.

.

“Liverworts, Brown Moss, Basil Root and of course don’t forget Poly Pods. Mr. Drangleic, are you listening?”

The room had been home for practically half of Vander’s life. It was littered with parchment, books about the world, creatures, and of course, spells and scrolls. While most other educational facilities in Don Mov were designed to be brightly lit and taking advantage of the warm sea breeze, this one was kept mysteriously dark. The professor, while an educated and logical man, had romantic notions of dark cellars where wizards and warlocks of years past would scribe their spells into books and onto scrolls, endlessly toiling in ancient texts and lore with not but a candle. The professor would insist his students appreciate and learn to adapt and create by candlelight, should they ever find themselves in a dark dungeon far beneath a perilous ancient Keep. Silly notions of an old man, many would say, but there was something enticing about a thrilling adventure that kept Vander working diligently, often throughout the night. Vander suddenly realized he had drifted off instead of taking notes.

“Sorry professor, I’m listening.”

“You are still troubled by some of the unusual outcomes of your spellcasting.”

Vander looked up from his parchment where he had just finished scribbling down his professors list of supplies. He had been lost in thought over his last attempt at the Mage Hand cantrip, which, like every other time did exactly what it should have, with the exception that instead of a soft translucent fleshy hand, was instead, a skeleton hand.

“I wouldn’t mind it so much except it’s a bit unnerving for those around me” Vander said glumly “particularly my parents. I feel like I have let you down professor Green.”

“Vander, you have been a most excellent pupil. You have studied and practiced harder than anyone else in your class. Therefore, I know I can trust you to know the difference between Funariidae moss and Brown Moss, and why you are the one entrusted to make the trip to Hay for them.”
“I realize that professor. Your faith in me is appreciated.”

“I have taught you everything I can. You have learned all that you can learn here in Don Mov. To truly grow in the arcane arts, you must experience the world outside of traditional schooling. Taking what you have learned here, continuing your studies, and applying them will take you further than you can imagine today.”

Professor Green offers Vander a money pouch and places a hand on his shoulder.

“My boy, I have several students as you know. A few of them have been able to execute their craft with precision and exactness even before they became my students. While this is admirable, I know when I look at you, that you are destined for greatness.”

Vander smiled at his professor’s kind words. Professor Green had always been something of a second father to Vander. Given Vander’s own father’s constant disappointment, it made the patience and encouragement of the professor that much more meaningful.

“I will be sure it’s Brown Moss, professor Green.”

The professor gives Vander’s shoulder a small squeeze and his eyes look past at a tall figure standing in the doorway to the classroom.

“And I trust you will be keeping this one company along the journey to the City of Hay, Mr. Fayden.”

Vander turned from the professor to face the blue-eyed, blond-haired figure.

“Dack! We’re headed for spell supplies in Hay, not for battle” Vander continued in a joking tone.

Dack looked down at his chain-link shirt and steel bracers, then back up at Vander and professor Green.

“Oh, is it this?” Dack said slyly pointing to the glaive strapped to his back.

Vander had known Dack for nearly their entire lives, and both admired and pitied his friend. Dack had been alongside Vander in his adolescent years attempting to learn the arcane arts. Dack’s entire lineage was that of spellcasters, including both of his parents and his sisters. He spent every waking moment trying to learn and study with Vander, but without much success. It became apparent that despite his desire to follow the family path, his brute strength, size, and skill with a blade were ultimately his first, best destiny. The man he had become was kind, thoughtful and chivalrous, but he still lacked certain social graces, for example, carrying a long-bladed weapon into a classroom. Vander smiled at the absurdity of the scene.

“I was just getting the list of supplies from professor Green and was planning on heading out to Hay this morning. Are you still planning on accompanying me on the trip?”

“As a former pupil of mine” stated the professor “I do expect you to look after him and trust you do in fact know how to wield that piece of steel you have there.”

Dack’s grin is replaced with the sternness of a military general and his body stiffened.

“Vander will have my blade, should the need ever arise, Professor.”
The professor smiled looking on at the two men he had known since their childhood. While he was unable to guide Dack as a spellcaster, he still felt a sense of pride in the man.

“That will be all, then.” Professor Green said kindly as he turned to Vander. “My boy, this will be your final trip to Hay for supplies. I will be away upon your return here and ask that you please restock our cabinets when you return. The cart, however, you may keep.”

Vander’s eyes opened widely and before he could protest the professor continued.

“You have a journey ahead of you. Consider it a thank-you for the dedication you have had as my student. I would encourage you to seek out new opportunities and continue to practice what you have learned these past 10 years. Your future is bright, “continued Professor Green, looking back at Dack “and judging by the company you keep, looks full of adventure.”

“Thank you, Professor Green.”

Vander turned back to a more at-ease Dack “If you’re ready, I’m ready. I sent Viola and my parents a letter letting them know you would be accompanying me to Hay for supplies and that we would send message to them once we determined what is next for us.”

“I will follow your lead, Vander.” Said Dack kindly, opening the door for Vander’s exit.

Vander nods to the professor one last time before turning to pick up his spell book and heading to the doorway. “Be well, professor. And thank you.”

.

“I am so bored. Can we at least change spots?”

Zuri looked at the black and brown striped Khalia with a sense of both frustration and amusement. They had become friends since their first encounter a few weeks before outside the City of Hay Library, though an unlikely pair. Zuri’s desire for order, simplicity and love of fresh fruit was a stark contrast to Khalia’s chaotic nature, random interests and perhaps most disturbing, love of fresh raw meat. Still, Zuri thought watching Khalia swat at her own tail, she has been by far the most interesting being she has encountered to date.

Khalia had been traveling for some time with the Nomads of Trent; a patchwork of humans, elves, and apparently this lone Tabaxi, as her race was called. This Catfolk race lived somewhere in the forests North of Q’Thad, and according to Khalia, she was told by her mentor, Omega, she had the gift of curiosity. These were a few of the details Zuri had been able to learn in the past few weeks. At some point the ‘gift’ apparently lead her away from the nomadic group to the streets of Hay, where she continues to be a spectacle for most who have never encountered a nearly 7’ cat-person.

“What are you looking at?” said Zuri, narrowing her eyes at a passing marketgoer as they turned their stare away from the cat woman and her twitching tail.

Staring and pointing was common whenever newcomers would get a view of Khalia for the first time. Given Zuri’s own background, she felt a certain sense of obligation to stand up for her nonchalant companion. Of course, seeing the rapier and short sword hanging from Khalia’s waist likely meant she would be simply fine in a fight if it came to that. If anything, Zuri was more concerned a fight might break out simply because of a misunderstood expression from her feline friend. After all, a cat, even a humanoid cat cannot really express a smile. To say a cat-person showing its teeth, smiling or not, was a little unsettling was an understatement. Since that first day, however, Zuri had managed to look and listen for the subtleties of Khalia’s tail movements, purring and the occasional hissing. Watching her swat at her own tail right now did mean only one thing. She is SO bored.

The sound of two pieces hitting the inside of her coin bag brought Zuri back to the present. Looking down in the bag she saw two gold pieces: something unheard of even in this fine market.

“What’s a guy need to do to get some entertainment in this market?”

Zuri’s eyes lifted to meet the gaze of two purple eyes, half-covered by brown locks of hair. His attire was, what Zuri would consider a nobleman making his best effort to be a humble commoner. Double-breasted buttoned vest with a double-stitched brown leather knee-length jacket, holding a leatherbound book in his left hand, which of course was decorated by a shiny ring.

“Vander! You’ve returned!” exclaimed Zuri as she embraced him in a hug.

As Zuri released Vander from her affection, behind him stood a broad-shouldered stern-looking man, looking somewhat out of place with his chain-mail shirt and steel bracers. Further, she realized like many, he could not take his eyes off of Khalia. Zuri’s eyes narrowed.

“She’s Tabaxi. They’re cat-people from the forests North of the mountains.”

Before Zuri managed to finish this brief description of her new friend, Khalia had managed to stealthily make her way on all fours beside Vander and put a paw-hand out pointing at the ring on his finger.

“What is THAT?!” she exclaimed.

Taking a half-step back, Vander responded “It’s a ring.”

“What does it DO?!”

“Well, for the most part it looks nice, but it also plays a roll in my spell casting on occasion.”

Khalia’s eyes dart from Vander’s ring up to Dack, who stands motionless observing her. Khalia stands up and tries to stand as tall as Dack, her eyes wide and tail twitching wildly.

“and who is THIS GUY?!”

Dack, noticing the rapier and short sword hanging from her waistline straightens up even further, not knowing what might come next.
“Dack Trevor Fayden, ma’am” he responded matter-of-factly.

Khalia draws closer to Dack, her whiskers and ears twitching. Khalia begins to purr softly before suddenly showing off her shiny pointy teeth inches before Dack’s face. If not for everyone’s attention on Dack, his minute movement back from the Tabaxi would have gone unnoticed.

Khalia’s big cat eyes blinked as she leaned in and whispered “Made you flinch!”

Zuri turned back to Vander, amused by her friend’s playfulness “Vander, are you back for supplies again? So soon?”

“Yes, actually. The professor is taking on a new set of students in a couple of weeks and wanted to be sure he had enough to carry them through the semester. I am no longer going to be under his tutelage, and he asked me to take one final trip before someone else assumes the responsibilities.”

“Oh, I see! You’re an official wizard of Don Mov fame now, then?”

esponded Zuri, trying to keep her focus on Vander as Khalia continues to examine the tall man and his armor.

“Who’s your friend here?”

“This is Dack, one of my oldest friends. I have spoken of him on occasion before. He has been attending Don Mov and has become quite the strategist and from what I know, rather good in a fight. I was hoping to see you here on this last visit to Hay. On our journey here, we talked about what we’re going to do once we’ve returned to Don Mov with supplies.”

“Expecting a fight in Hay?” Zuri said with a smile, looking over Vander’s shoulder at Khalia, still pawing over Dack.

“The truth is, we are done with schooling, and neither of us feels ready to return home just yet. I know I have told you about how my parents feel about my abilities, and well, Dack has a similar situation. We’re both looking to roll up our sleeves and make a name for ourselves.”

Zuri, even more amused “The Noble is going to roll up his sleeves and get dirty?”

“I can appreciate that sentiment” Vander continued “I guess we both need to figure out who we are. Get some answers.”

Zuri’s smile faded at Vander’s words. After over six months here in the City of Hay, she had come no closer to her own answers. Perhaps it was time to make a change. Her mentor always encouraged her to look for opportunities, and when they presented themselves, strike. While Zuri knew this was about fighting technique, it was also meant as a life lesson. She had met Vander when she first arrived and had gotten to know him over his subsequent visits. He was a good man, albeit naïve at times. This was an opportunity.

“Is there any chance I might join you?” Zuri asked a bit more loudly than she intended.

“You want to leave Hay with us?”

“There’s nothing for me here, and I’m no closer to answers than it sounds like you or your friend Dack are.”

Vander turned to see Dack still fending off Khalia’s questions and paws as best he could.

“What do you think Dack? Zuri has become a good friend here.”

Dack, thrilled at the opportunity to break from his current situation stepped closer to Vander.

“Strength in numbers. We have plenty of room.”

“FINALLY, we’re DOING something!” calls out Khalia moving back beside Zuri.

Zuri turned to Vander with a grimace and a half-shrug.

“Well, it looks like we have quite the band of misfits here” said Vander with a wary smile. “We’ll gather some additional supplies and head back to Don Mov.”

“WHAT THEN?!” exclaimed Khalia, tail twitching wildly.

“I suppose then, we head North.”

.

He had waited for this moment for his entire life. The thrill of the unknown, the excitement of the encounter. The sky was a crisp clear blue. The grass smelled sweet. Even the dirt was rich as he dug his fingers in, inching forward. Dack lay still on the ground observing the scene up ahead. Something wasn’t right. They had been traveling for two days out of Don Mov after unloading Vander’s supplies in Professor Green’s classroom. The group consensus was to head Northwest, still yet to decide whether they would make their way to Caister, a port city trading heavily with the Isles of Esnela, or venture towards Tynemouth, a fairly secluded city, far outside the realm of where any of their party has traveled. Either way, Dack was farther from home than he had ever been. It was exhilarating.
“Stay still. They haven’t seen us yet.”

The land they had been traveling on was mostly flat, with pockets of oak and maple trees. Large stones along the road boar the stains of campfires, presumably lit by weary travelers setting up base for the night. Up ahead between the trees, scaley creatures crouched looking in the opposite direction. The creatures resembled what Dack expected a dragon to look like, though much smaller; maybe 3-4 feet tall and standing upright on two legs. They had varying scale tones from deep blue to green-ish. They were muscular, fashioning weapons, that at Dack’s estimate, were crudely fashioned from sticks, rocks and possibly pieces of bones from other prey. A few of these unsavory creatures were furnishing equally as shabby bows with arrow heads most definitely made of teeth of creatures no larger than themselves.

“I count four. Two armed with bows and a short, bladed weapon crouched behind that set of oaks on the right about 50 feet from me. One with a longer blade and a net is nestled into that short thicket. The other has…”
Running into the open field, Khalia shouted “OH WOW! I’ve seen these before!”

Dack turned in surprise to Khalia’s sudden outburst to silence her, but it was too late. The creatures turned from their respective hiding spots, clearly as surprised as Dack at the 7-foot bipedal cat’s call. The nearest creature looked at Dack and cried out in a collection of growls and quick barking noises. Dack watched as the others responded in kind.

Out of the thicket a thick, 2 foot long, four-legged animal with tusks exploded whining as it shot across the dirt road and began to charge in Dack’s direction. As he began scrambling to his feet one of the bow-wielding creatures shot an arrow in Dack’s direction, landing sharply at his feet. Immediately his training took over and in one swift move unsheathed and let loose one of the spears from his back. The spear sailed through the air deliberately, though just missing it is intended mark and stabbing into the tree beside the dragon-like creature armed with a bow.
“Damn” Dack muttered as he prepared to unsheathe another spear.
Zuri stood beside Vander watching from 50 feet away. It would be no trouble for her to race into this situation, but Dack was right. This is not right. These creatures aren’t here waiting to ambush us, they’re in the middle of a hunt.

“DACK! Wait! They aren’t attacking, they’re hunting!”

Staring down the charging tusked pig, Dack made the connection that Zuri eluded to. Dack let his second spear fall to the ground and pulled out his glaive. With the pig nearly 5 feet from his location running full-boar, Dack dropped to his knees and rolled to the pigs right, bringing the glaive up under the pig’s jawline. The connection between blade and flesh was true, and the pig’s body hit the dirt. With one final wheeze it lay motionless on the ground.

Dack made his way back to his feet watching as the dragon-like creatures began running towards the direction of the fallen pig. Dack positioned himself defensively at the oncoming creatures.

“Dack, it’s okay! They don’t want you, they want the Bullfango!” called out Khalia innocently.

Dack shot her a look of frustration.

“The pig things. They’re called Bullfangos! They hunt and eat them.” She replied.

“Wait, you know these creatures?” Zuri asked.

“No, I don’t know them personally, but I understand them. We ran into Kobolds all the time when I was with the Nomads.”

Dack started moving away from the dead Bullfango as the Kobolds surrounded it and began field dressing the animal. The bow-weilding Kobold who had earlier shot an arrow in Dack’s direction called out in the same barking growl at him as he backed away.

“Why didn’t you tell us you could speak to these creatures?” he asked, trying to keep collected.

“Nobody asked! That meat sure does look good though!”

Dack looked back at the scene, met with more snarls and growls from the Kobold hunters.

“I don’t think these guys are going to share. Please tell them we’re happy we could help with their hunt. It’s probably best we make friends out here, not enemies.”

Khalia proceeds to bark and growl in the direction of the Kobolds, which goes mostly ignored as they lift the Bullfango onto a long branch and begin moving off the main road, headed East. Zuri and Vander exchange grinning glances as they listen to the absurdity of the cat-woman barking and growling, Dack clearly annoyed but also relieved.

“I think we should press forward. We still have plenty of daylight left.” Dack stated as he re-joined the party.

“Lead the way my friend” responded Vander.

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Chapter 2 | A Fork In The Road

The Petruador Plains.  Plains. 

“There couldn’t be a more appropriate name” said Khalia as the caravan pushed forward.

“Couldn’t be a more appropriate name for what, Khalia?” asked Dack, who was walking just a few steps in front of the 7-foot tall cat-woman.

Had she said that out loud?  It had been an incredibly boring two days since the encounter with the Kobold hunters.  The road looked as if it had been well-traveled, given the deep, wide wagon wheel marks wrought into the road they were on.  Trees were all the same and tall grasses hardly paid any attention to the occasional gentle breeze.  There was little to eat, and practically nothing to look at in this barren wasteland. 

“This place.  The Plains.  They are SOOOO PLAIN!” she whined.

Khalia had traveled these lands with the nomads before ending up in the City of Hay.  Thinking back on it, Hay was not really all that appealing, but given the lack of anything remotely exciting happening now, she would not mind being curled up on the bench in front of that library about now. At least the expressions of the passersby were entertaining.  The food always smelled so good in that market.  While she was usually more inclined to purchase a piece of raw Bullfango and dig right in, the sweet aroma of the same meat, seasoned, roasting over an open fire reminded her of home.  Meal preparation was something of a nightly tradition for Tabaxi.  Dinner would often take hours with many hands helping to create the feast.  The memory was so clear she could practically smell it.

“Everyone, stop” Dack said, raising his left hand up signaling the group.

Vander pulled back on the reins, slowing the horse-drawn wagon he and Zuri had been riding to a halt.  The cart had been hanging back about twenty-five feet from Dack’s position and now stopped overlooking a camp site.  Three of the lizard-dragon-like Kobolds stood around a small campfire, with a make-shift lean-to twenty feet beyond.  The creatures were armed with shoddy bone and stone weapons, clicking, and chirping at one another, clearly excited to partake in this modest feast.

“Looks like more of your friends, Khalia” Dack continued “let’s give them a wide berth and avoid any confrontation like last time.”

Khalia snapped back to reality, but not before her nose picked up the scent of the sweet meat she had just been recalling.  Not more than fifty feet ahead a small group of Kobolds stood around a fire, with a sizable Bullfango roasting over an open flame.  Her eyes grew wide, staring down the tusked pig as the short lizard creatures began slicing off pieces of is seared flesh.  As the one nearest raised a healthy cut of meat to his mouth, a lone spear sailed through the air from across the Kobolds encampment and plunged into its chest.

The Kobold screamed out in agony, though muffled by the blood already filling its lungs.  Khalia watched the small creature drop to its knees, losing the grip on its blade, looking down at the shaft protruding from its chest.  The impaled Kobolds attention quickly turned from the length of the spear to the growly roar from the small collection of trees across from the lean-to.  The quaint structure flew apart beneath the weight of a giant club wielded by the hands of a hulking ten-foot ogre. 

“FOOOOOOOOD” called the white-pinkish hued giant now staring down the roasting Bullfango.

“Dack?” questioned Vander, wondering what they should do next.

“We help them” Dack stated, pulling his glaive from his back, and charged towards the new foe.

“Zuri, take the reins and get us close!” Vander exclaimed, pulling back his sleeves.

With a snap of the leather straps, the horse sprung to life, jerking the wagon into motion, quickly passing Khalia. 

Both remaining Kobolds each took up positions alongside the giant threatening not only their dinner, but their lives.  The first Kobold, hissed at the monster in front of him and drew up his make-shift spear of bone and stone and jabbed unsuccessfully at the ogre.  His still-standing companion, looking up at the giant swung with a rusted rapier, again to no avail.  The ogre, seeing these small creatures flailing laughed out loud as he raised his giant club.

Zuri managed to get the wagon within 30 feet of the attacking ogre, and slowed just enough for Vander to leap down and face the direction of the overwhelmingly one-sided battle.  Vander removed a small bit of butter from his component bag, rubbing it between his fingers.

“Deturpant!” he exclaimed making a tossing gesture towards the ogre.

As the word left his lips a slick puddle of grease appeared beneath the hulking masses feet.  Dack now fully sprinting past Vander weapon outreached called out to the ogre to draw his attention away from the Kobolds. 

“YAAAAAAAA!!!” hollered Dack, as he locked eyes with his opponent.

The ogre, whose attention was now on Dack shifted its balance in the greasy mess beneath its feet, only to slip and fall heavily on its back.  Dack, now within striking distance leapt into the air spinning a full 360 degrees and coming down on the beast’s muscular left thigh, slicing deeply.  The ogre called out in pain, though Dack’s attack continued spinning the ten-foot-long glaive around and striking the ogre’s face with the butt of his weapon, knocking loose a tooth.

Enraged, the ogre climbed back to his feet, still in the greasy puddle, eyes wide, its club once again raised above its head.  With brute strength it brought the club down upon the rapier-holding Kobold with bone-shattering force.  Dack winced hearing the poor creatures’ insides fall victim to the blunt-force trauma just inflicted.  The small humanoid crumpled to the ground, dropping his weapon, lying motionless.  Watching the infuriated giant throw all his weight into the swing, Dack took the opportunity to swing the blunt side of his glaive beneath the ogre’s feet, once again up ending the beast onto his back, and giving the remaining Kobold room to back away.  As Dack watched the beast fall, he followed through with another spin of his body and glaive, striking once again, slicing into the creature’s belly.

Vander, seeing an opportunity moved in closer to the fallen ogre.

“Tactum!” his hand outstretched.

A ghostly translucent hand appeared and grasped around the ogre’s neck as Vander clenched his own fist.  On contact, the ogre’s white-pinkish-hued flesh greyed and withered as if it’s very lifeforce was being drained by the spectral fingers.

Khalia, initially having followed Dack’s approach had slowed as she approached the fire where Bullfangos were roasting.  The sweet smell of cooked meat again taking her away from the fight at hand, bringing her back the honored traditions of her village.  The bone-spear-wielding Kobold, noticing her approach now distanced from ogre, weapon still at the ready, kept his attention between his fallen comrades and the 7’ cat.

“Thurirl?” it hissed in Draconic.

“Yes.  Thurirl.  Friend.  We are friends.  Thurirl.” She responded, her eyes moving between the small dragon-like creature and the roasting bullfango.

“FFF-REEEND.  FFFFFFREENNDDD.” he responded back in a growly hiss.

Khalia, rapier in hand swiftly cut a chunk of the bullfango from the spit and tossed it to her newfound friend, followed by a cut for herself.  The small creature looked back one last time at the scene of his fallen brethren, then back to Khalia.

“THURIRL!  FFFFFREEENDDD” he hissed again, before turning and taking off into the wooded area beyond the lean-to. 

“Um, bye I guess?” replied Khalia, chomping into the bullfango flesh she had just cut.

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” screamed the exasperated ogre, once again climbing back to its feet, the grey patch beneath the ghostly hand expanding like vines beneath his skin.

The ogres club connected with Dack’s right shoulder, sending a shockwave of searing pain both up Dack’s neck and down through his right arm.  Clenching his teeth, Dack gripped his weapon tightly, bringing its massive blade down across the ogre’s chest, opening a large 12” gash, followed by a strike beneath the creature jaw using the blunt end.  Bewildered and looking uncertain on its feet, Dack wasted no time spinning his glaive back around and plunging it deep into the fiend’s chest.  With one final move, Dack ripped the mighty blade back out of the ogre’s ruined body.  A gasp of blood, and the beast fell to the ground beside the fallen Kobolds.

“Dack, are you alright?!” Vander shouted as he made his way over to his friend.

“Yes.  It’s over Vander.  I’m only sorry we couldn’t save these creatures.”

“We did everything we could, Dack.”

“Oh my you guys.  You have GOT to try this meat.” Called out Khalia, still snacking on the bullfango meat beside the fire.  “I’m also pretty sure I made a friend.”

Dack and Vander looked at one another with a combination of surprise and disbelief of this indecorous member of their band. 

“Is she serious?” Dack asked Vander, rubbing his throbbing shoulder.

“I think it’s her way.  Maybe it’s a Tabaxi thing?  She seems to have trouble with focusing.  I’m only glad you’re okay.”

“We should keep moving.” Said Dack, wiping the blood from his blade.

.

“There’s a sign up ahead” Dack called back to Zuri and Vander in the wagon.

A six-foot-tall weather-beaten post stood just off the road, which split into three directions.  The top wooden chiseled sign read Port City of Caister 50mi, appeared to lead on their current path.  The second sign, pointed to the first fork, Tynemouth 100mi NW.  The third sign, changing direction significantly North from their current path read City of Bury 200mi.  The bottom most sign read The Water & Pigkeeper Inn 10mi, also in the direction of Tynemouth.

Dack looked around at the landscape.  Trees had become a bit sparser than earlier in the day, and finding a secluded, and more importantly, defendable camp site was likely going to be a challenge here.  It was also getting late in the day.  He had his heart set on journeying directly North to Bury.  If that was where he could prove his strength and skill, that was where he was going to go.  He looked at Khalia about ten feet to his right.  She would likely go anywhere at this point if there was something to eat and something to do.  He looked back at the wagon where Zuri and Vander sat looking at the sign.  Vander was his responsibility, and while he was ready for a fight, he was going to make sure his friend was safe.  As far as Zuri was concerned, he was not really sure what her story was.  She kept mostly to herself and seemed standoffish most of the time.  Vander seemed to think highly of her, so Dack would trust his friend’s judgement.

“What do you think?” he said.

“It looks like we don’t have a lot of daylight left.  We have been traveling for several days now, and while I think we could make it to Bury, it might be best to get some indoor rest and re-stock supplies in Tynemouth” Vander responded from his seat in the wagon. 

“I know I wouldn’t mind a night in an actual bed” Zuri chimed in.

“The Water and Pig Kepper Inn?  They MUST have something great to eat in a place like that!” exclaimed Khalia.

“We stop at the Inn and head to Tynemouth” stated Dack, trying to contain his disappointment.

.

A few hours later, the sun setting, a black horse with saddle bags is tied up outside a small wooden building with a short porch and painted sign declaring The Water & Pig Keeper Inn.  Smoke billows out of a stone chimney off the side of the inn, and a warm glow shines through two small windows on either side of the front door.

“Well, this certainly looks inviting” stated Vander, clearly excited and leading the way inside.

A brightly glowing fire burned warmly to the far right of the interior.  A black and brown bear skin rug sits underneath a large candle lit chandelier.  Tables decorate the interior, and a small service bar sits at the left side of the room.  A set of stairs located at the back of the building lead up to a second floor.  A short, stalky, big-nosed patron seated enjoying an ale in a simple wooden stein.  His hair disheveled and looked lost in thought, not paying attention to the incoming group.    Another man sitting behind the bar sat reading a brown leather-bound book. The fifty-something year old man, in good shape with slightly thinning hair and kind eyes looked up at the party as they made their way inside. 

“Good evening, friends!  My name is Everlen.  Everlen Roric” stated the man kindly, looking wide-eyed at Khalia.  “Can I interest you in a drink?  Are you looking for accommodations for the night?”

“We would like both, actually” replied Vander.

“and something to eat!” called Khalia.

“Well then, make yourselves comfortable and I will bring a round of ales, and something to eat” stated the inn keeper, still eyeing the 7’ cat-woman.

“Thank you, kindly” responded Vander, putting his noble upbringing pleasantries to work as the group settled around one of the larger tables.

“I built this place a long time ago off the main trade routes to accommodate travelers” continued Everlen while pouring ales from a large wooden cask set back behind the bar.  “In fact, there were two headed North to Tynemouth that left earlier today.”

Everlen paused for a moment, then frowned.

“They didn’t look too good actually.  Skin tone was all wrong.  They insisted they were just weary from travel.  Speaking of which, where are you folks headed, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Well, we’re headed North in general.  As unhinged as it might sound, we are all looking for some excitement… perhaps come into some adventure”  replied Vander as the inn keeper set down ales in front of each of his guests.

“Adventure…” trailed Everlen, seemingly suddenly distracted.  “My son Ryan.  He helped me run this inn for years but began to grow bored as he grew into a man.  He had no interest in serving strangers and listening to their tails anymore.  He wanted to live his own.”

“Where is your son now?” questioned Dack.

“He headed North to Tynemouth and planned to make his way as far as Bury.”

“PIRATES UP IN THOSE PARTS!” shouted out the big-nosed patron from the bar.

“Nonsense, Eric. They are fierce and cunning, yes, but you must be in those elements.  Not pirates.  My boy Ryan was a strong man, but he hasn’t returned in nearly a year.  I am afraid I fear the worst.”

“This will be my third time making this trek from Caister to Bury as currier, Everlyn.  They’re rough and they’re rowdy, and quite honestly, I don’t think I care to make the trip again.  They can find someone else who is better built for thugs.  It is not worth the gold.  It’s definitely not worth the cold.  If I had my druthers, I’d make my way to one of the Isles of Esnela and live the good life.  Wine and warm weather.”

Everlen sighed and turned his attention back to the party.

“Since you folks are planning on making the trip, you should definitely stop in Tynemouth.  As Eric over there mentioned, it does get extremely cold in those parts” Everlen continued, lowering his voice and becoming quite serious “Could I ask a favor of you?  If you do encounter my boy Ryan, would you please let him know I miss him, and would love to see him again?”

“You can be sure of it” replied Vander honestly.

Everlen’s concerned look returned to a smile.

“Now, let me get you something to eat!” he said, making his way behind the bar and into the kitchen.

“You young kids listen to good advice.  You should stay clear of that wasteland.  Adventure is a fool’s errand” stated Eric from his seat at the bar, clearly beginning to feel the effects of his beverages.

Vander leaned into the table and encouraged the rest of the group to follow his lead as he whispered.

“What do you think about offering to deliver this man’s mail for him?  We are headed to Tynemouth anyway, and we have decided that we will continue to Bury.  It sounds like we’re going to need some additional money once we get there.”

“So, we offer to carry out the rest of his work?” asked Zuri.

“We make friends, and maybe make some connections in Tynemouth as a result” replied Vander.

“I agree” commented Dack.

“WHERE is this guy with our dinner?” blurted Khalia.

“Do your people just eat constantly, Khalia?” asked Vander.

“Well, I eat constantly.”

Vander turned his attention back to the bar patron.

“Excuse me, sir” he started “Eric, was it?  I wonder if we might be of service.  While I can appreciate your candor, it is likely my friends and I will be headed to Tynemouth and then to Bury.  I wonder if we might work out an arrangement with you and your mail?”

The sloppily dressed bar patron made his way across the room to the table, with a few extra steps in between.

“What are you talking about, boy?” he slurred.

“My friends and I would be happy to deliver your mail to both Tynemouth and Bury, for perhaps, 20 gold pieces?”

The smell of several ales lingered around the man’s face as he leaned down close to Vander’s.  Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of coins and dropped it on the table. 

“The bagsss are on my horse.  Thisss ssshould be enough.  Talk to the girlll at the Eager Crier.  She’lll know what to do.”

“Thank you, sir, we will be sure your mail is delivered” responded Vander, doing his best to tolerate the overwhelming smell of stale breath.

“aaand another thing.  Thisss never happened” snorted Eric as he pushed himself up from the table and stumbled across the room to the stairs.

“Is this the adventure and excitement you were looking for?” asked Zuri between Vander and Dack.  “Delivering a drunk man’s mail?”

“I think somewhere between fighting an ogre and delivering mail” Vander said happily.

“I will retrieve his mail bag” commented Dack, getting up from the table.

Moments later Everlen returned with platters of assorted cooked meats and a smattering of vegetables.

“I trust Eric made his way to his room and won’t be bothering you the rest of the evening?”

“He did.  We would definitely like a couple of rooms for the night” responded Vander.

“Excellent.  Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you tonight.  No charge for the rooms, or for dinner.  Consider them an act of faith and gratefulness for seeing my son’s way home to me.”

“We will do our best, Everlen.  Thank you for your hospitality” said Vander as Dack returned with Eric’s mail satchel.

As Everlen moved back behind the bar to begin cleaning up for the night, Vander turned to Dack, now seated at the table once again.

“Well, my friend, it looks like we have an adventure ahead of us.”

.

Zuri could not remember the last time she had enjoyed fresh fruit.  Between Khalia’s incessant need for meat, raw or otherwise, and the lack of fruit and vegetables during their journey, she was becoming irritable.  The meager pickings at last night’s dinner were better than nothing, but it was not enough.  Vander had invited her to play Dragon Chess after dinner and talk.  Zuri recalled that the game lasted about fifteen minutes.  Either the sound of Vander’s voice had been grating or the fact that she could not concentrate to make a decent move caused her to flip the board and just go to bed.  This had made for an awkward start to the day, and she had decided to walk ahead with Dack instead of sitting beside Vander in the horse-drawn wagon.

“Looks like we have company” said Dack, pulling Zuri from her thoughts.

Up ahead two horses slowly trudged up the well-worn dirt road, pulling a weighed-down cart.  The cart itself contained three large wooden wine casks, with an assortment of traveling supplies, pans and tenting materials strapped to the sides.  The wagon looked to be in good condition, undamaged, but oddly slow.

“There may be trouble.  It looks like the driver is slumped in his seat” Zuri replied.  “Khalia and I will scout ahead and take a look.”

Dack quietly removed his glaive from his back and stiffened up his posture as the two women quietly drew closer to the mysterious traveler.  Zuri gestured to Khalia to make her way up on the right of the wagon while she crept up on the left.  As Zuri approached the driver’s side of the wagon, it became obvious the driver was likely no longer alive.  It was a human male, approximately in his mid-30’s, with a grey-ish dis-colored splotches beneath his skin.  A dagger and short sword hung at his side, but there did not appear to be any physical damage to the man.  Beside him sat a passenger, around the same age, also with similar decaying splotches beneath his skin.  The passenger held an empty tin cup in his right hand, laced with a bit of dried blood, and a parchment reading cargo manifest in his left.  A rolled-up map sat between the two bodies, tied with twine.  Beneath the seat rested a small chest bolted to the wagon itself, with a small keyhole.  To Zuri’s surprise, Khalia jumped into the wagon’s front seat and began rummaging through the clothes of the dead passenger.

“Khalia!  What are you doing?!”

“I’m checking for wounds.  They’re obviously dead, and probably won’t mind!”

Zuri grabbed the reins of the meandering horses and pulled back to bring them to a stop.  Looking back, she gestured to Dack to stop and stay put.  Following Khalia’s lead, Zuri patted down the deceased driver.  Some assorted copper, silver and gold pieces in his left pocket, and a small iron key around his neck.  Behind the driver sat a short-bow and quiver of arrows, seemingly untouched.  The cargo of wine barrels and traveling supplies also appeared to be intact.  Each of the wine barrel headers was imprinted with Esnela Red, presumably indicating their contents.

“This doesn’t make any sense.  No struggle.  They just look like they died” commented Khalia.

“Did you find anything on him?” Zuri asked Khalia, as she gestured towards the passenger.

“Some gold and silver, a pouch of these little round pellets…and this paperwork.”

Zuri took the paperwork and began to look it over.  An acquisition form and bill of sale for Derrek Milea provisions.

“We should let Vander and Dack know what we found” said Zuri as she stepped down off the cart.

.

“I just want to apologize for last night, Vander.  I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Zuri was sitting beside Vander again, riding behind the cart that Khalia and Dack were in.  After a bit of deliberation, the group decided it would be good to see that the cart at the very least be delivered to Tynemouth, which was the second stop on the manifest, followed by Bury.  Apparently, the late cargo carriers were meant to deliver some of the wine to Tynemouth, pick up 20 yards of wool at Shorn and Sheared Co., 20 yards of wolven hide at Dern Lyer Supplies before heading to pick up and deliver items in the City of Bury.  If it were not for the two dead men they found, Zuri would find this amusing.  The group of adventurers setting out to find excitement end up delivering parcels and packages around the world.  Terrific.

“I’m not worried about it as much as I am worried about you.  I know you aren’t entirely comfortable with everything going on, and I know it’s been tough without your usual diet” Vander replied “but I do want you to know I was going to have you in check within two moves.”

Zuri rolled her eyes but managed a quick smile at Vander.  Smart enough to win all the time, but not smart enough to keep quiet about it.  He could be insufferable, but he had a charm that helped keep things grounded during their travels.  Vander was a stark contrast to his friend Dack, who seemed a little too eager to run into a fight and had few things to say.  Zuri smiled at the idea of Dack and Khalia riding together in the newly acquired cart, Khalia chatting his ear off.

“So Dack, how do you know if a sword is a really good sword or just an ordinary one?” questioned Khalia.

Dack took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts to respond.  The group had decided to see this cart to its destination and decided he and Khalia should sit together.  She had been asking questions and making observations since he took the reins.  While he appreciated her inquisitive nature and enjoyed being indulged about his knowledge of weaponry, combat, and armor, even he had his limits.  They were about to find a spot to camp for the night, which also meant they would be burying the two former owners of the cart. 

“There are four key components to look for Khalia.  A sword’s hardness, its ability to retain its shape under resistance.  It’s strength, which is sometimes confused with hardness, refers to the sword’s structural integrity under stress.  Next, you have the sword’s flexibility, which…”

“Oh wow, that looks like a great camp site!” interrupted Khalia, pointing at a spot just off the road.

Finally, thought Dack, pulling off the road and heading towards the clearing.  The tree coverage and open space to the road would make for a great camp site.  Defendable, with the ability to get back on the road quickly if necessary.  It had been an exceptionally long day, and it wasn’t over.

“Khalia, once we stop will you help me bury these poor souls?” Dack asked.

“Oh, I thought I’d help break out rations and then…”

“Great!  Perfect.  I can handle it myself.” Dack interrupted, relieved.

Vander directed their wagon to follow Dack’s lead.  After securing the horses, everyone went about their business unloading, setting up camp and preparing for the evening.  Firelight began to dance across the wagons just as Dack finished burying the two bodies they had encountered in the cart earlier in the day.  He made his way over to the fire and took a seat alongside Vander, who had been looking uneasy since they stopped.

“Are you alright my friend?” he asked.

“Yes.  Yes, I am fine.  Thanks for asking Dack.  I’ve felt a little uneasiness all day.”

“Well, that’s expected, given what we came across today.”

“I wish I could say that’s what it is.  Something has been bothering me all day and I can’t seem to put my finger on it.  I’ve been thinking about leaving home, and wondering if we made the right choice.”

We’ve known each other since we were kids, Vander, and we both know the lives we would live if we had stayed behind” said Dack.  “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I know I am seeing the world, alongside a good friend.  For the first time in my life, I am genuinely excited for the future.  That said, I know we could all use a bit of rest.”

“You’re right.  I may see if Zuri would like to try her hand at a rematch tonight unless you’re interested in a game of Dragon Chess?”

“Good night my friend” said Dack with a grin.

“Good night, Dack.”

.

Dack’s eyes opened suddenly.  The night was damp, and there was a heavy fog lying low across the ground.  The fire had faded to a handful of red coals, and there was just enough moonlight to make out each of his companions.  Khalia was snoring (or perhaps purring) loudly, curled up near what was left of the embers.  Zuri seemed unmoving, though Dack suspected she might also be lying there awake like he was.  Dack turned his attention to Vander, who seemed extremely restless, tossing around.  It almost sounded like some kind of chant he had heard years back, when Dack thought maybe he would have the opportunity to learn the arcane arts.

“Wait, that’s” Dack began to say aloud, realizing what the chant was.

Suddenly a blast of green energy erupted from Vander’s resting spot, passing through everything around him.  Dack felt a sudden wave of hurt from the impact, like an unexpected punch to the midsection.  Watching the energy fade, it was apparent he was not alone as Zuri and Khalia both sprung to life, also doubled over by the sudden impact.  Vander was now upright, breathing heavily and speaking incoherently.  Dack focused on the task at hand.

“Vander, are you alright?  Zuri?  Khalia?  Did you all feel that?”

“It felt like a punch to the gut!” called out Zuri.

“What the heck WAS that?!” asked Khalia, tail twitching wildly.

Dack made his way to Vander quickly and took the stunned man by the shoulders, forcing him to look Dack in the eye.

“Vander?!  Are you alright?!”

“Yes.  I think so.  What happened?”

“You just shot some kind of energy wave out and it felt like we got sucker punched” Dack responded.

“Really?  I was just dreaming about my parents… and my cat, Chipper.  Well, former cat.  It was terrible, reliving that experience.”

“What experience, Vander?” asked Zuri, concerned.

“I had a wonderful pet that had been in the family for a number of years, even before I was born.  His name was Chipper, and he was the greatest cat.  He followed me everywhere as a child.  He passed away around my sixth birthday.  I missed that cat.”

“I’m sorry Vander” said Zuri.

“That actually wasn’t the worst of it.  About a year later, my parents had started my training in the arcane arts.  Dack, you remember?  We were in school together for a while.”

Dack nodded in confirmation. 

“I was thinking about that cat.  I was missing him and, well, somehow we were sitting at dinner and I summoned him back.”

“Oh wow.  You brought your cat back to life?” asked Khalia, tail twitching and intrigued.

“Not exactly.  He came back, but he was, well, just his skeleton.”

“Are you serious?  What happened?” asked Zuri, horrified.

“My parents were terribly upset.  It appeared on the dining room table and seemed to recognize me immediately.  At least, right before my father smashed the bones with an iron kitchen pan.  It crumpled and that was the end of it.  Needless to say, they were unimpressed with my training.  It was awful.  It’s been awful ever since.  Nothing seems to go exactly the way I want it to.”

“That grease spell came in pretty handy the other day” offered Dack.

A sudden noise of ruffling around came from Vander’s pack at the end of his sleeping bag.  It was obvious a small creature had managed to get inside and was rummaging around, knocking around Dragon Chess pieces and Vander’s drinking cup.  Dack slowly stood up and quickly grabbed one of his spears, preparing to jab at Vander’s pack.

“Vander, you open the pack, and I’ll be ready to get whatever is in there” whispered Dack.

Very slowly, Vander moved over to his pack, looking back at Dack to be sure he was ready.  As Dack nodded, Vander opened the top flap and a small bony creature leapt from inside into Vander’s arms.  Dack jumped back but tightened his grip on the spear. 

Vander’s eyes, wide with surprise focused down at the small creature in his lap.

“Chipper!” he exclaimed.

.