Chapter 1 - The Missing Swords

            Summer in the Shaar was sweltering, the humidity like a wet blanket lying over travelers in the wilderness - but at the beginning of Kythorn, the full weight of the sun had yet to bring its force to bear, and the travelers on the trail through the tall grass had enough energy to converse as they walked, watched for bandits from the infested Wastes to the south, and spied ahead for signs of the next pocket of civilization.
            The small figure bounced along the trail, her rose red hair in a long braid down to her waist a splash of color amid the seared golden grasses of the Shaar as the group traveled. At 3’3” she barely peeked above the tops of the grass with large emerald eyes, the strangest gnome one might likely see in this part of Faerun. Her tanned face had been marked with whorls and patterns of blue woad. She wore a well-kept chain shirt festooned with trinkets: a symbol of Tempus woven of the savanna grasses and painted, a jackalope’s foot and the tip of its horn, and other various charms for luck and protection. On her back over her pack and small wooden shield was a small greataxe made of well-forged steel, the end of it festooned with the tuft of a lion’s tail. A few javelins poked out of a quiver and a sling hung at her belt beside a small warhammer.
            Nala took a long pull from her waterskin. She didn’t get out this far west usually, sticking to her tribe’s hunting grounds north of the Rathgaunt Hills, or in the Hills themselves, where the gnomes lived, or down through the Lhesper Trail to Cannathgate where her uncle had his home. But it was an errand from her uncle that had her traipsing across the Cannath Vale with a group of fellow travelers, now on the way home.
            Nala looked up at the sun, bright, hot, and high in the sky. She reached back and pulled up the large conical basket-hat she had woven to keep the sun off of her head and neck and shade her eyes. Given the occasional giant eagle or dragonkin that might like to swoop out of the Wyrmbones occasionally that liked to snack on small creatures, it wasn’t always a smart move, but there were plenty of good companions around to watch the skies, and she was tired of baking in the sun. Besides, the hat had numerous shafts and tufts of the long savanna grasses stuck to it at all angles, helping to camouflage her amidst the tall grass.
            The road had been long, but the hills of Braydok's goal were just visible now to the southeast. On the journey he had met other travelers. First the fierce little gnome, Nala was a joy to be around. Though she barely came up to his knees she was quick and an an excellent huntress. Soon after there came the dark one. Nominis was an artist with shadows, unfortunately the Shaaren sky left few shadows. As they made their way south his skills were more apparent.
            Next, out of the hills to the north came the loxo holy man. His green trunk a sign strange mystical powers. The fair haired elf was last, a magician and scholar in addition to his skills with a bow. The larger their group became, the less appealing a target they were to bandits from the south. For now they traveled east with the road, together for comfort and protection. Who knew what tomorrow would bring.
            The man without name, past or family still behaved like he's in constant danger. While his companions were unknown to him as was everything else, he took instant liking to the gnome girl („wee fury“ his mind immediately supplied from somewhere deep inside). They walked openly under the open sky like there was no danger there. They didn't skulk and talked with each other. They seemed entirely too trusting even with one another. He kept his own council, he knew the group is stronger then anyone alone. And yet, habits of the last harrowing part of his life were hard to break. He hid in the grass next to the road, ranged up front to check beyond the next rise and waited for the group. He jumped at every bird that he startled from her plane in the grass, his hands going for the weapons. Nominis was an artist with shadows, unfortunately the Shaaren sky left few shadows.
            As the badlands fell away without incident, and the mountains to the north gave way to rainforest, the travelers topped a rise and found themselves gazing down at Drellin's Ferry, the name branded onto a sign just above a warning that anyone looking for trouble would find it from the sheriff. It was a bustling frontier town, surrounded by a few farms, with the horse-drawn ferry on the Talar River that gave the town its name clearly visible from the rise. A number of saplings grew alongside the trail on the way into town, twisting stems that struggled to rise higher than the occasional bush in the tall grass. No one challenged the group as they walked past the green fields, though a few farmers paused to look, and offer a friendly wave.
            Jembu eyes the horizon as he often does watching for dangers or other signs. He lets out a strange ruffling sound from beneath his two trunks, the loxo equivalent of a forlorn sigh. He seems to grow more tense as the town ahead grows on the horizon. He moves off the road into the brush and returns to the group eating a few wild berries. "Berries bloom here abouts, share I would." Jembu's broken syntax a tell tale mark that he has learned to speak common but thinks in something foreign.
            Nala stood with the others on the hill looking down at the bustling frontier town of Drellin’s Ferry, pushing back her basket-hat to better make out the village and its inhabitants. She adjusted the large pheasant on her back, a bit of opportunistic sling work having brought down the bird after their passing had startled it into the skies.
            Jumbu nods in greeting to those farmers who offer a friendly wave. "These folk seem welcoming enough."
            As the his travelling companions move into the town Jembu smiles to see the colorful birds and happy to see some places are under the sky. He grimaces slightly when he sees the signs for the inn. "For sale their hospitality is wonder do I if the worth reaches its price?"
            The sun bothered Nominis more then he thought it should so he walked wrapped in his own shadow. Occasionally, he let one of the shadow globes drift over his companions to shade them from the sun. But he withdrew them at the slightest hint of discomfort from them. Still learning his new abilities, he wasn't about to alieanate the only people he knew on this plane.
            As he scouted on the next rise, he saw farmers and immediately went into hiding, warning his companions back. They of course saw only farmers and continued along, meeting stares of the people and waving back their greetings. Nominis reluctantly joined his companions and dismissed shadows around himself. The scene was repeated when they came into town. But this time, Nominis knew they are in danger. With this many creatures in one place, there must be a predator among them. And they didn't fit here. He took careful stock of anyone approaching them, his single eye jumping from one to another of the strangers they encountered. If he only could remember more of his former life. But he didn't think he was from the city, it felt to unfamiliar. And besides, some of the tattoos Nala wore and her paint seemed more familiar although he couldn't really say why.
            Children stopped to point and stare at the loxo as the strangers plodded into town, but the youngsters were quickly chivvied on by their parents, who managed to do their staring out of the corners of their eyes. Still, the town seemed welcoming enough, and other travelers and traders were plentiful, as befitted a town on The Dawn Way. Many of them stopped at The Old Bridge Inn, which lay on the south side of the town square ("The Green," locals called it, and it lived up to its name - the goat-trimmed grass was lush, and a single tree spread shade at the center of it, over a number of colorful stalls and small tents where farmers were selling their produce). A walled garden behind the inn was full of laughter that could be heard on the dusty street, and the smell of good food wafted from behind the beautifully carved open doors. Across the Green, the travelers could see a somewhat smaller taphouse, The Green Apple, where less fancy people (mostly locals) came in and out of the pleasant small trellis-shaded courtyard before it. Colorful birds perched everywhere, adding their chirps and squawks to the noise of the town.
            Vol had smiled down at the village- at the opportunity to talk to some new people, more likely- but he positively beamed at the broad-branched tree in the center of the village. "An old shade tree in the center of town- these people understand that life is for more than just work."
            The slender elf was precisely twice Nala's height, which made him very tall indeed among elves and humans but hardly worth mentioning with two loxo in the party. His hair- closer to white than blonde and long enough to cover half his back- flitted around his face in every stray gust of wind, but it didn't seem to bother him any more than the humidity.
            He carried his bow in hand, but absently, not to ward off danger but simply as a matter of familiarity. On the road it had become perfectly clear that the elf's dark-limbed bow was as much a part of him as his arms or his legs. It didn't seem to have a name, like some people's weapons, but Vol never left the bow further than he could stretch his arms and held it more often than he kept it on his back.
            Nala was used to the stares as they passed through the town. It was the same looks she got whenever she visited her uncle Whistverves in Cannathgate. One would think they had never seen a Shaaran tribesman before. Of course, that very well could be. Her people had little reason to visit the centers of civilization south of the Shaar, or even outside their home territory north of the Rathgaunts. But then Nala was also rather unusual for a nomadic tribesman. Gnomes tended to be more civilized.
            “So where to?” Nala asked the others. She eyed the two inns. She didn’t particularly care for inns -- who wouldn’t want to sleep under the stars? -- but villagers tended to get testy when one plopped down a campsite in the middle of the green.
            Looking at the merriment of the Green, a look of sadness passed over Braydok's massive face. "Perhaps they will let us use this large grassy clearing for our camp?" His Common is tinged with a Dwarven accent. "If not, I guess we could stay with the horses. I feel it is unlikely that a room appropriate for our size is available." He gestures towards Jembu.
            To Loxo Nominis responded in more words then they heard from him until that point: „Don't worry, Anvil Bearer, there will be rooms for you, I expect you're not the first of your kind to be here. Sure, it might be single room or separate space in the whole town, but there will be something. And I'd prefer if we could stay together for the moment, until we know the threats and dangers of this place.“
            “Not likely,” the little gnome said, eying the canopies and stalls set up under the spreading tree providing shade of the green. “Townfolk get twitchy about fire in the middle of everything.” Not that they wouldn’t be careful. After all, a grassfire on the Shaar could blaze for miles and ruin a hunting ground for a long time. “We won’t know until we talk to them.”
            With that, Nala looked around. “Woman!” she called to a lady walking by. The little gnome had picked up the habits of a mostly male warrior and hunting clique of her people and held the typical disdain for “women’s work”, despite the fact she was quite proficient in it, having been raised as a female in such a society should, until the day of the Ankheg raid that had led to the Lion touching her spirit, taking her over. Since then she had been admitted to the ranks of the warriors, sleeping in the warrior’s tents with the men, as was proper. There were a few other women who had made the Trials, including her mother, but Nala could count them on one hand. But she had adopted the warrior’s attitude that women were inferior. No, she didn’t think about the existential paradox of that a whole lot. She just tried harder to prove she wasn’t “really” a weak woman. Or a gnome.
            Nala jogged up to the woman, looking up at the tall human. The woman looked a little frightened, possibly offended, seeing this motley group and the woad-painted little gnome with the axe. “Can the inn handle the big’uns?” Nala asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the two loxo.
            Not know what else to do Jembu waved gingerly with one if his tusks.
            Nala looked back at the others. “Well, they’re all big…” she mused. She eyed the dark one, he of the shadows. Something about him was familiar. Maybe it was the way he used the childhood nickname she’d been given -- Wee Fury -- by the warrior boys when they taunted her, when they took her toys and put their hands on her forehead, holding her back easily. Well, she’d shown them just what the Wee Fury could do! Nala felt the Lion stir within her, her green eyes flashing a bit with the rising rage, but she restrained it. No, now was not the time to release the Lion. She did not know this dark one with the strange name, Nominis, but he seemed familiar.
            Nala turned back to the woman. “Well, woman, speak up!” her high voice demanded.
            The woman was jerked out of her startlement at being addressed by a pint-size terror by Nala's tone. Scowling down at the gnome, she shifted her basket of groceries to her other hip and snapped, "Why don't you ask the innkeep? Kellin Shadowbanks runs the inn, not me." With a final baleful look at the strangers, she walked on, shaking her head.
            When the woman responds Jembu lets out another frustrated sound from beneath his trunks. "See you do. For sale their hospitality is."
            The other solid warrior let's out a derisive snort, startling some of the bystanders who had gone back to their own tasks. "The price has no yet been set my friend. They may still be willing to barter. Was a herd's hospitality so freely given when you left? I am willing to do a day's labor if it will get us a night's rest."
            The massive shoulders hunch in a slow shrug, a metallic grating accompanying the motion. "Though I admit my own confusion at their insistence on transferring the barter using these tiny bits of metal." His trunk fingers working a coin from his pouch and holding it up to his eyes for closer inspection.
            "They may be willing to dicker, but given how busy that one is," the tall elf gestured at the inn with locals streaming in and out, "I wouldn't bet on the innkeeper's flexibility. This looks like a busy town. Lots of people to meet, lots of people looking for rooms. Let's go meet some of them."
            The tall elf gave Nala one of his half smiles. "Slow down, Nala. Let's not upset the locals before we figure out who deserves it." That was typical of his advice- slow down, take your time, give it some thought, wait. "It's not like we need to make a choice about an inn right now. Let's talk to some people, see what they're talking about." He gestured at the Green, with its tents and people buying produce under the shade of the huge tree.
            He smiled at Braydok. "I wouldn't mind resting under those branches tonight, either, Braydok. I'll bet that tree has a lot of stories to tell."
            Jembu makes a slow rumbling sound. "A fine tree. Wise council you have given. To more people speak we should." Jembu turns north west ans looks off whistfully. "Close we are to the Wyrmbones. News those hereabouts might have of the gnolls. Perhaps even news of the Jackal whom I seek."
            Vol nodded. "Markets are always good places to hear the news. Merchants love to tell you why exactly you need their wares."
            Nala humphed as the woman walked off. “Rude much? Someone should slap her until she learns to respect a warrior.” The little gnome crossed her arms. She looked at the sky to judge the time and then at the tree. “I suppose we have the time,” she grudgingly admitted. “And it will be good to get out of the sun.” She pushed back her sheltering basket hat and wiped back her sweaty, rose red hair from her emerald eyes.
            Nala fell in with the others as they made their way over to the market, looking at the fresh fruits and vegetables. She eyed some that might go well with the pheasant hanging over her shoulder.
            Vol smiled. "I'm glad to you're not going to make us explore the market ourselves. You never know what kind of trouble these two will get into."

            The fruit and vegetable market was a hot, fragrant riot of color, both from the wares, the awnings raised above them, and from the clothes of the locals. The children remained fascinated by Jembu and Braydok, and the farmers were more than happy to talk to customers with (they hoped) such prodigious appetites. Of course, it didn't hurt that Vol and Nominis were there to smooth things over when the loxo's manners were a bit... inhuman.
            Amid the bargaining and chatting, talk often came around to the auction that would take place soon - an auction for a papaya that was said to cure all ailments. It seemed that the auction was held by a tribe of goblins that had been doing this for more than a decade.
            "The greedy little robbers won't even let us keep the saplings that sprout from the seeds," one farmer grunted in disgust, to a round of agreement from the locals nearby. "They steal 'em right out of the ground!"
            "Got one o' them monny pollies," an old man selling figs and dates said wisely, putting a gnarled finger along his nose. "That means only th' goblins get to sell that magic papaya."
            Jembu smiles and nods politely to those selling their produce. He offers some wild berries and coin in barter for some things that look good.
            Braydok takes one knee to look under the awning. "Putting yer food in the ground seems ta' be good way to loose it. How'd ye know where to find it again when ye come back next season?" The whole planting and tending of fields is completely lost on the nomad.
            The long haired elf smiled at Braydok. "Some might say walking away from a perfectly good field is a good way to ensure you don't have anything to eat." He shrugged and nodded at the old man. "And I doubt those goblins have found a way to get papaya trees to grow out of their backpacks."
            Braydon looks down at Vol, "If you do not keep moving, how do you manage to avoid other tribes who might attack?"
            Vol shook his head. "For the most part, villages don't attack each other. Most of these people are tied to the land where they live. They tend to their own crops where they live and leave others to theirs." The elf shrugged.
            Vol nodded at the talkative old man, who with a certainty was significantly younger than the teenage-looking elf. "These magic papayas sound interesting. How much do they usually go for? A lot, I'd imagine."
            "Quite a bit," the old man said seriously. "I heared that th' bidding's been up around fifty lions!" He sucked his teeth, shaking his head. "Imagine that. Fifty lions, to a bunch o' goblins. What a waste!"
            "Not a waste, if the papaya really does cure all ills. I'm sure you've seen some amazing things come of that. Where is this auction happening? I would love to see this fruit." Vol said
            "Well, you may have a point there, son," the much-younger-than-Vol old man said. "People try t'grow new trees from th' seeds, but those goblins always come an' steal th' saplings." He smiled at the elf, showing gaps in his teeth. "Don't you worry about missin' the auction, now. It's always after the solstice. Best-lookin' papaya you ever saw, you'll see."
            Vol nodded. "Shrewd folk, these goblins. Have your people been trading with them for a long time? Where I'm from, goblins aren't the most welcome sorts."
            "They got a tricksy way about 'em, that's fer sure," the old man agreed. "Been comin' around with that papaya for nigh on a dozen years. People wouldn't stand fer it, if it wasn't fer that fruit." He looked around in a theatrical manner, then leaned close, whispering, "Time comes now an' again that them goblins bring another papaya on th' winter solstice. White as a corpse an' poisonous as a mamba. Kills you if you so much as touch it." He leaned back again, shaking his head. "I don't know what anyone'd want with a thing like that, an' I don't wanna know."
            Jembu listens mulling over what he has heard. "Fruit of such power know in tales wide and far would be." He looks about and then down intently at Vol, "If we are seeking information we are close to the Wyrmbones. I have long wanted to hear news of the gnolls and the threat they bring. Droom the Jackal in particular."
            "Oh, them gnolls don't dare come close t' town," the old man scoffed. "They's just cowards, like goblins." He sucked on his teeth for a minute, then added, "Never heared of any Droom, only th' Wyrm Master. An' that's Kormul's headache, not ours."
            "The Wyrm Master? Doesn't sound like anyone I'd care to meet. Kormul must be a brave man. Is he your sheriff?" Vol asked.
            "Not from these parts, eh?" the old man chuckled kindly. "Kormul's a town up north, on t'other side o' the Talar an' the Shaareach on th' Old North Road. Far as I'm concerned, they can keep their gnoll troubles. Drellin's Ferry's always been peaceful, leastwise as much as any frontier town can be. Captain Anitah keeps it that way, the gods bless her."
            Tharivol filed away the information about the winter papaya but didn't follow up. Deadly fruit was a sure conversation stopper. He nodded. "Glad to hear the gnolls aren't near here. I've heard stories about them, and they sound nasty. This seems like a nice town- peaceful and prosperous." He smiled. "Captain Anitah- is she your guard captain?"
            "Ayup. That's right," the old man said, proud as if it were himself. "She an' the deputies keep this place decent. No room fer troublemakers here. Even th' bandits from the Waste don't come up this way much," he declared. "We're safe as houses, thanks to her. Interest you in some figs an' dates, young fellah?" he added hopefully. "Our farm's got the finest you'll find in all the Shaar! Keep you strong an' healthy!"
            "If you want healthy, you come, taste our coconut water!" a nearby farmer called in a singsong voice, holding up a green coconut. "Make you strong, like a lion!" She waved a machete, demonstrating that she was willing to slice one open right then and there, or possibly how strong she was on account of her wares. "We got coconut candy! Make you feel very dandy!" she sang.

            Unseen by the group, Nominis moves through the throng and enters the inn. Out of habit, he checks his surroundings picking up small talk of people around him. As he approaches the inn he figures out how to present himself and the rest of the group without causing too much trouble, but still getting what he wants.
            Deciding on a role, Nominis takes control of his shadow and enters the establishment forcing himself to stride boldly in everyones view. "Innkeeper!" he calls out.
            "Over here!" a cheerful voice called from the bar. It belonged to a halfling, who was busy tapping stoneware mugs of beer for the thirsty merchants lined up at the bar. Coming closer, Nominis could see that the floor was raised behind the bar so that the halfling could move about without having to hop up onto a stool to serve his customers.
            "Welcome to the Old Bridge Inn! What can I get you?" the halfling chirped, expertly sending drinks sliding down the bar to those who had ordered them.
            After he sees the man Nominis makes his way toward him and greets him in a lower voice. "Good man, I'm Nominis Expers, explorer of some repute, slayer of dragons..." he points to his scaled armor and bone shield... " and protector of people. Do you have a room or can you procure one for the best explorer of secrets in your town and his guards? We'd be very grateful..." the gold coin appears from somewhere "...and we might even share the secret of the goblin fruit for someone who helps us, assuming, of course, we can discover it.
            Of course,..." he makes a pose of thinking "...maybe my guards would be too much for your establishment and you might want to point us into right direction?" Nominis leans closer and stage whispers "They are loxo, they take a lot of space. Thus, I'm fine with you simply pointing us toward the space in your town where we could make safe camp without being disturbed or disturbing others, you could still make a silver or two without sacrificing any of your fine rooms."
            Nominis pauses for the moment, gauging the mans reaction, "What say you?" The gold that somehow changed to silver in all the movement stops in the middle of Nominis palm.
            "Oh, we have a room that can take a couple of loxo, if they don't mind sleeping close on the floor," the halfling said, seeming amused. At least, his smile had grown wider, and he chuckled. "The beds aren't sturdy enough for them, I'm afraid. We can lay the mattresses down, of course. But if you've got more than two of them, I'll have to charge you extra. They do take up some space, which I could fill with more of people your own size. Two gold lions a day for each for boarding up front, meals are extra but very good!" He patted his belly and laughed. "A little too good!"
            He went back to tapping beer for the halfling barmaids to take to the tables in the busy common room. "You just let me know what you need - I'm Kellin, by the way," he called over his shoulder.
            "Thank you, I have only two. Just in case, is there a place we could camp outside?
            "I suppose anyone could sleep out in the fields, if they made an agreement with the farmer," Kellin shrugged. Then his grin returned full-force. "But a haystack has nothing on the Old Bridge Inn!"
            I'll bring them in. I have a gnome girl, elf man and myself. We'll need gnome room separate or with other girls. And one for me and elf."
            Waiting just long enough for innkeeper to confirm there are enough room for all, Nominis returns to the group.

            "The inn has one room for two loxo. Just what we need. We can sleep and eat tonight and see if it is agreeable for all. We can see what people here think about this goblin business." Nominis said.
            Braydok turns away from the discussion of fruit and fields as the dark man walks up and makes his announcement. "A room to fit us? How interesting, I will miss the sky, but it will be an experience. I wonder how different it will be from a tent." He stands, looking at the sky. "Do we go now, or wait until dark?"
            "We should go immediately to settle in. We can leave some things in the rooms so we walk among the people less conspiciously. And besides, maybe innkeeper given the rooms ro someone else." Nominis said.
            As the others browsed the market, Nala settled down at the base of the tree and started plucking her pheasant. It was a bloody affair, and tedious, but it let her look around and observe. Nominis, that strangely familiar dark creature, said the inn had rooms for them. “Been a long trip. I could use some ale,” the little gnome chimed in.
            By now, the group had noticed that Tharivol was not an 'immediately' sort of person. He smiled at Nominis. "You go ahead. We're not going to pass as locals here even if dressed like we were from here; putting down our backpacks isn't going to do much to keep Braydok and Jembu from getting looks. Or me or Nala. I'll keep looking around, thanks."
            Nominis and Nala (and her newly-plucked pheasant) entered the Old Bridge Inn and, after securing a room (Nala would have to share with the men, as it was quite crowded) and dropping off their gear, settled in the tree-shaded garden behind the blossom-covered walls for an ale. A halfling brought their drinks to them, and they were able to relax and, if they wished, join the lively conversation.
            Braydok follows Nala and Nominis into the Inn. He ducks through the door and let's his eyes adjust to the dimmer light. He leaves his pack in the room, his shield and spears as well. He lifts the bag of tools from his pack and goes in search of the smithy.
            Nala gave her pheasant over to the innkeeper, along with the vegetables she’d gotten at the market, with strict instructions on how he was to prepare it. She and Nominis went up to their new rooms and, with little modesty, the gnome stripped down to use the basin and ewer to wash the pheasant blood from her body and armor. A change of clothes and she grabbed an ale to sit out in the garden for a nice drink.
            The other guests were abuzz with rumors of a lost adventuring party of locals, except for their paladin. They caught the names Sharwyn, Talgen, Sir Braford and Karakas. It seemed that two of them were siblings, and part of an important merchant family in Drellin's Ferry. Whispered gossip said there was a reward for anyone who found them, but no other adventurers had passed through, or at least, none willing to search the Shaar for a missing party - the Band of the Shining Swords.
            Jembu follows Nominis and Nala moving in careful manner so as to not crueh anyone. "A thousand pardons . . . excuse me." Once they make it to the room he mumbles a bit. Once in the garden Jembu seemed calm and enjoyed the time.
            Turning toward several of the patrons that were discussing the missing group, Nominis repeats the story about reputable explorer, finder of secrets and his group of problem solvers. He asks about details of the disappearance, description of the people involved, name of the family and other relevant info.
            To expedite the story, he buys a round for the table, sings the songs with them and in general behaves in a way contrary to his life in the shadow. He finds that he actually enjoys being among normal people again, no one trying to cheat him, eat him, enslave him or any two of the above at the same time.
            Using the song as an excuse, he raises his powerful voice above general din of the inn, turning more than a few heads in his direction just for the fun of it. Sitting at the table with huge loxo and diminutive barbarian helps with this and soon they are the center of attention of more patrons than is probably good for them.
            Nominis talks about the secret of the fruit and his interest in this secret. About finding the lost group. About the stealth of the goblins who manage to steal the shoots of the fruit year after year without anyone being any the wiser. About great shadow dragon flying above the plains and the fight for his life in the dragons domain. Never directly saying he slew a dragon, he nevertheless touches his armor at several points of the story drawing the attention of the audience to his armor made of several big, dark gray scales and many smaller ones. Those who saw him earlier with his bone shield might also remember great skull with horns instead of just barbarian shield.
            At first the patrons chuckled at Nominis' not-quite-claims of having slain a dragon, armor notwithstanding, and asked why if he had such great repute, none of them had ever heard of him, or at least heard of the dragon? But the people in the garden were friendly and more than willing to gossip, and his, Jembu's and Nala's questions were addressed as colored-paper lanterns were lit and hung in the trees around the garden, making the nearby mosquitos glow in their festive light.
            Jembu seems to enjoy the comradery he finds simply listening and laughing he learns more of these peoples and their troubles from carousing with the others than asking questions on his own.
            Leaning over toward those who seemed eager to speak of the missing adventureers, Jembu said, "Greetings friends, may the Spring rains well find you." He smiled broadly. "Excuse me, unpleasant news is shared. Who are these 'Shining Swords,' were they on a mission of some kind?"
            “Where were they headed?” Nala asked, sipping her ale.
            It seemed the Shining Swords had delved into the goblin-infested Sunless Citadel a month past, and no one had heard from them since. Only days ago, Kerowyn Hucrele, the matriarch of the missing siblings' merchant family, had grown worried enough to offer a reward, though no one in the garden seemed to know exactly what the reward was.
            "Maybe they went looking for the truth of the magic papayas, and the goblins got them!" a fat trader at another table jovially surmised. Shaking his head cheerfully, he added, "Adventuring is a dangerous business! Here, pass that pitcher."
            "I heard their paladin had a magic sword, name of 'Shatterspike,'" another trader chimed in, relaxing with her chair tilted against the stone wall and her feet up on the table. "Trust a paladin to go bite off more than he could chew, even with magic!"
            Nominis takes it all in stride. "The dragon was a great shadow dragon lord Khaan’Taranar. He hunts over Shaar at times. This time, there was an attempt at his life. These..." he points to his armor scales "...and the klar are what is left from one of those assassins. Their combat drew them into my group and one of those beasts scooped me up. As you can see, it failed. As for the reputation...it is more of a locak thing. I never heard of your paladin and his Shatterspike. And yet, he would probably be described as famous around these parts."
            The merchants still chuckled, having apparently heard others make claims of being dragonslayers before, but the locals nodded to themselves; it seemed Nominis had struck a chord with them.
            "Karakas is from here in Drellin's Ferry, too," a sad young halfling barmaid said, gathering up empty pitchers and cups and distributing new ones from her tray. "I hope he's all right. I mean, I hope they're all alright," she added, blushing a bit. "Are you really going to go rescue them, Saer Dragon-slayer?" she asked Nominis hopefully. His tales had made an impression on her, at least.
            Nominis nods, as soon as we get all the facts we can. Can you points us to matron Kerowyin Hucrele so we can formally take the quest? Don't abandon hope. But be prepared for the worst.
            The barmaid nodded, brightening. It seemed apparent she had mainly heard the "don't abandon hope" part of what he'd said. "Matron Hucrele lives across from the smithy, on the lake. She usually keeps her business running from there, so you have a good chance of catching her at home."
            “What’s the Sunless Citadel?” Nala pried as the others talked more about the missing party. Hmmm...a reward. And a chance to prove herself?
            The gnome looked up at the halfling barmaid that brought more drinks. “He yours?” she asked the girl. “This Karakas?”
            The halfling blushed even more brightly, shaking her head with a smile. "Oh, no. He doesn't have a girl - too busy being a hero with the Swords, y'know. But he's bound to settle down someday!" She grinned and winked at Nala as she poured their table some more drinks, then hurried on to serve other tables.
            Nala smiled at the halfling woman in sympathy. While Nala herself had once had such feelings towards fellow tribesmen, she was was constantly reminded how she wasn’t human and they weren’t appropriate. She sighed into her ale before downing it and getting another.
            “Perhaps if I bring your man back, he will have learned his lesson,” Nala grinned at the barmaid.
            Nominis supports Nala in her query. "This Sunless Citadel sounds just like something goblins might inhabit. Is it some kind of local ruin?"
            One of the locals nearby leaned out to answer, "Ayuh! Never been that way myself, but I hear it's an old fort or somesuch, down in a ravine near the Waste. Everyone says the goblins live out there, but I've never heard of anyone going out to check! Other'n the Swords, of course."
            "Somebody ought to round up those goblins and put them to the sword," a trader with a black beard growled, slamming his cup on the table. "They're nothing but thieves and bandits. Stole one of my wagons the last time through here! Then the locals could just grow their magic bananas or whatever in peace."
            Why would you do that saer? They don't attack, pillage or behave in other ways as typical goblin tribe. Don't you have enough trouble with human bandits and other monsters? I'm all for "live and let live". And they are useful for this community in many ways. Even if there was no fruit to be sold, the fact that there are goblins in the vicinity means less bandits, less monsters and no aggressive goblins. Nominis said.
            "Don't attack? Missed the part where they killed my drover and took my wagon and all my goods, did you?" the merchant said sourly. "Those goblins are a plague on the trade coming down the trail from Lapaliiya. I'd take the Dwarfroad through the Wyrmbones to Kormul, but then you've got gnolls!" He shook his head angrily. "Goblins are bad, but gnolls are worse. Still, I wish someone'd get rid of the little pests!"
            Nominis Shakespeare his head "Nay, saer, I didn't miss it. They are bandits and dangerous. I simply claim that they are safer bandits than, as you said yourself, gnolls and probably easier to defend against than against human marauders. Assuming you guard your wares, you probably have greater losses on other routes. May Great Lion of Shaar and gods he honored receive your drover with honor." Nala probably noticed the reference od her tribe to tribal totem. Except tribesmen don't commonly include outsider gods.
            Nala noted Nominis’ invocation of the Great Lion and looked at him curiously. Odd that he would know her tribal totem. Though he did mention he was from the Shaar.
            Jembu listens to the exchanges laughing at Nominis and the reactions of the towns folk. As things grow serious regarding the goblins he seems to be mulling things over. He rumbles quietly as he thinks something like the human 'hmmm' but deeper with an edge of thunder. He looks at his companions who are still with them in the courtyard. "Help these people we can. Speak to the merchant woman we should. Is it to late to see her now?"
            When Jembu spoke, Nala shrugged. “Why not see the woman in the morning, enjoy the night without travel and concerns,” she suggested, lulled by ale into indolence for the moment. Okay, so she had only had two. She was a gnome, after all.
            Nominis got up as evening progressed and darkness fell. He notifies his companions "I'll be outside for a spell. Look for me near towns border behind the tavern." and melds into the shadows.

            Hanging around the market a bit longer, Vol heard the farmers gossiping about how the cattle herders weren't grazing their stock too far afield these days, on account of night-marauding monsters. No one had ever seen one, the rumors went, and they left no trail... but cattle and people caught out alone had been found dead the next day, pierced by dozens of needlelike claws. The farmers shook their heads, agreeing with each other that fruits and vegetables were a safer crop to bring in.
            Vol murmured his sympathies when he heard about the people who had been killed, wondering if Captain Anitah might have more details about this monster. For now, though, he just kept exploring. Once he'd been through the market he felt the river calling him and turned his feet toward the water.
            Vol wandered past the warehouse they'd passed on their way into town. Even this late in the evening, traders and caravans were coming into town, and a good number of them stopped at the warehouse to offload their goods. Ill-tempered, snarling hounds on chains were temporarily held back by the old man who ran the place - Vol caught his name as being Iormel - but not before he took his fee from the merchants. Once they had offloaded and left, Iormel loosened the dogs' long chains and let them guard the goods inside the building.
            Walking on by the armory, he came to what the merchants referred to as the Old Toll House, a stone building at the edge of the river - the largest and sturdiest building he'd ever seen. No one seemed to be collecting any tolls there at this hour, but guards still came and went. Beyond it, he found what had once been a bridge, but was now only a string of old stone pylons, their ruins standing ten to twenty feet above the water. Glancing left, he could see a barge making its last trip across the water for the evening, connected to two enormously thick ropes that spanned the Talar. Affixed to a huge wooden contraption, a pair of draft horses were walking in a broad circle, turning the wheel the ropes were hung on and pulling the ferry steadily closer. About a dozen men and women were working there or nearby, doing various presumably ferry-related chores. Across the river, Vol could see a similar number of people scurrying about on their own similar tasks.
            The tall, thin elf smiled to himself and sat down on the grass to watch the river, the ferry, the people and the clouds. This seemed like a nice place to stay for a while.

            Morlin's Smithy lay not far from the Green, and Braydok found it by following the plume of smoke from the forge. The setting sun cast an orange glow on row upon row of fine armor and weaponry, obviously made by a master of his trade. The dwarf laboring at the forge clearly had a passion for his work, though at the moment he appeared to be making nothing more deadly than a horseshoe.
            Plunging the metal into a trough to cool it, Morlin caught sight of Braydok, and his heavy eyebrows rose, but he only said, "Welcome, stranger. We don't get many loxo in these parts. Looking to have something your size made? Or looking to apprentice yourself?" He nodded towards the tools that Braydok carried.
            "In my youth I worked under a Dwarf of the Stonefist clan, he taught me much. I've heard he has retired to the Hammerfist Holds. I was hoping you might have need of an assistant. I have some knowledge armor and weapons, but I would like to learn more utilitarian skills." Braydok flexes his large blunt fingers. "If you will have me. I do not know just how long we will be in town."
            "Stonefist, eh? Good people, I hear. What did you say his name is? Or yours, for that matter?" Morlin regarded Braydok with an appraising eye. "Can't say I'm happy to take on an apprentice who might not be around long... but you just want to learn blacksmithing, is it? Not weapon or armorsmithing?" He wiped his forehead thoughtfully with his apron, smudging it further. "But if a dwarf took you on before, I can consider it. Why'd you leave your old master?"
            Braydok waves his trunks in embarrassment and bows his large head. "My apologies master Morlin. I am called Braydok Firrith. For many seasons in my youth Theibor Stonefist walked with my herd as he guarded a caravan in the Shaar. In the plains we didn't have much use for horseshoes. But a good spear will save a life."
            His ears ruffle, "I last saw Theibor about five years ago. He was headed west with a caravan on its way to Sheirtalar. I stayed with the herd then. May the gods preserve them. I no longer have a herd, so I seek to expand my skills."
            Morlin had been watching Braydok impassively as he spoke, but when the loxo mentioned losing his herd, his face softened fractionally. "'Tis a hard thing, to lose your clan," he commiserated, craning his neck to look up at Braydok. "The kind of thing makes a fellow want to bury himself in his work, I understand. I've seen the sort of thing before."
            He let out a gusty sigh. "Well now. I have nothing against taking on another apprentice, particularly one as strong-looking as yourself. Can't say I'm pleased to hear you don't know when you might leave, though. What is it that might call you away, saer? There doesn't seem much advantage to me in having an apprentice hare off when I might need him. Not much I can teach that doesn't take dedication, either. I'll not have it said that Morlin Coalhewer's apprentices don't know what they're about." It was clear that Morlin took pride in his work; everything he did had the look of a master of his craft.
            Braydok straightens and stands tall, "My family was taken by the raiders who slaughtered my herd. I do not know if they were taken by the gnolls or the yuan-ti. Either way, if they still live, they are in Lhesper. I seek to reach Theibor and enlist his aid in their release."
            "Forgive me, Master Morlin, I may not be the best candidate for your apprenticeship. If you will not take me, I offer my service at the bellows for what time I am in town." He stands awaiting the Dwarf's judgment. His arms at his sides, unmoving. However, the fingers of his trunks fiddle nervously as he waits, revealing his discomfort.
            Morlin nodded, wiping his hands on his leather apron, and came over to extend his hand. "I wouldn't keep you from finding your kin, and I won't say no to help at the bellows, saer Braydok. You come when you can, and I'll count it a good service, worthy of pay. Never let it be said that a Coalhewer didn't deal fairly!"
            Braydok drops to one knee and clasps the Dwarf's hand and forearm with his own massive grasp. "Thank you saer, it is a comfort to be able to loose oneself in work from time to time." He spends the reminder of the afternoon assisting Morlin in the smithy before retiring to the Inn for an evening meal.

            The elf had come to the tavern after sunset and, as usual, appeared to be enjoying himself in his own quiet way. He had told the others what he'd heard in the market- about the gnolls being the problem of another village, the town sheriff, and the missing and dead animals and townsfolk found with claw marks on their bodies.
            "We may also want to speak to the sheriff about whatever creature it is killing animals and travelers on the outskirts of the community. The young adventurers sought danger on their own; this monster is waylaying innocent people as they go about their lives."
            Braydok joins the others at the Inn for an evening meal. He listens to the others as they share news of their discoveries. Waiting to hear everything before joining in with his slow, deep rumbling comments. "A group of adventurers missing in an abandoned keep, and mysterious killings in the fields. This place needs help. Maybe these things are all related. Could the goblins be holed up in this Sunless Citadel? Maybe they've waylaid these Shining Swords and are raiding the fields at night?"
            He thinks for a moment before continuing, "We should speak with both the sheriff and the matron first thing in the morning."
            In the morning, they found their way to the Hucrele manor. It wasn't much, as fancy places went in the big cities, but it was quite impressive for such a small town as Drellin's Ferry. Nala studied the mayor’s house as they approached. Once again she was struck by the absurdity of townsfolk. Why did they need such a large structure just to sleep in? It was silly.
            A butler led them around to the garden by the lakeside, where after a short wait, Matron Hucrele met with them. She was a stern woman with greying hair done up, but full of energy and with sharp grey eyes that suggested a keen intelligence. After they told her what they wanted, she nodded.
            "I'll get right to the point," she said, looking them each in the eye. "Talgen and Sharwen are my children. I will offer you salvage rights if you can find them and bring them back, or at least return with their signet rings, so I can be sure of their fate." She showed the party her own ring, which depicted a large wading bird. "I'll offer you one hundred and twenty-five lions each for each signet ring you return. I'll double that if you bring back my children, sound of mind and body. Do this for me, and you'll have the gratitude of the Hucrele family." She didn't mention Karakas or Sir Braford.
            “Anything you can tell us of this Sunless Citadel will help greatly, Grandmother,” Nala said, leaning on her axe. “Was there a particular reason they wanted to go there?” It might help to decide where in the complex the adventurers might be located.
            "I'm not certain of their reasons," Matron Hucrele sighed. "Always running off to look for trouble when we have a business to run. And they've been gone so long... I only hope they're all right," she said quietly, gripping her hands together.
            The elf seemed distracted by the garden; he was looking closely at a fancifully shaped topiary as Nala asked her questions. That said, he was clearly listening. "I'll be happy to help, regardless. I know what it's like to lose a loved one; this must be a tough time for you right now."
            Braydok fluffs his large ears in distress, "We will return with your family. One way or another."
            Nominis all but disappeared in gardens shadows. He was much less forthcoming with people in the light of the day. But he nods at the end emerging next to the elf. "We will return them or their rings. Anything you can tell us about their plans or known destinations?"
            "All that I know, you apparently already have heard," the Matron said, shaking her head; then she paused. "Well... you might not know of the Old Road. It's a trail to the Hammerfist Holds. It passes close to that so-called citadel - and the Bandit Wastes. Please, go quickly. If they have any chance, it lies in haste."

            Asking around, it seemed that the Old Toll House served as, among other things, the headquarters of the Town Guard, and that was where they found Captain Soranna Anitah. Waiting until she was finished with a discussion with some of her guards, the party approached when she waved them over.
            A red-haired woman with a well-used sword at her hip and an iron-rimmed wooden shield on her back, her competence was shown by the respect the townsfolk gave her. Looking the party up and down, Captain Anitah raised an eyebrow. "I saw you waiting. We don't get many loxo here. What can I do for you?"
            Nala rested her greataxe on her shoulder as she studied the leader of the town guard. The woman looked competent enough, and the townsfolk seemed to respect her. “We were passing through and heard tales of trouble around here, thought we could help out,” the little gnome said. “Your Grandmother already wants us to look into the disappearance of her sons and their little band, including a halfling and a paladin. We heard there might be other trouble afoot?”
            "My... grandmother?" Captain Anitah said slowly, completely nonplussed. Then the pieces clicked into place, and she nodded. "You mean the missing adventuring band. I take it you spoke to Kerowyn Hucrele. The missing siblings are a man and a woman, not two men, and none of them are halflings so far as I'm aware." She gave them a considering look. "What other trouble do you mean?"
            With nothing interesting to distract him, Vol seemed more focused than he had been at the manor. He nodded. "Word is that there is a monster hurting people and animals around here. We might be able to help."
            The Captain nodded. "Any help is welcome. Whatever is killing people and livestock, it leaves no tracks. But if you're headed to the Sunless Citadel, I don't think it'll help much. All the attacks have been on the outskirts of our town, not farther off. Besides, if the Shining Swords got into trouble, you're likely to meet it, too. I think you've got plenty on your hands."
            Jembu quietly listens to the woman occasionally shaking his head ruffling his ears. At the sheriff Jembu is satisfied letting the others speak at first. Finally he asks, "Which of greater import to you is?"
            Vol nodded. "That makes the most sense. Which do you think is most time critical, Sheriff?" Just because he didn't give much thought to time didn't mean he couldn't understand that others did.
            The Captain looked up, and up, at Jembu when she answered. "Of course, all our citizens are important, and have what protection the Town Guard can provide." She paused a moment, considering them, then continued. "That said, the Shining Swords went out looking for trouble, and are only missing. The farmers and livestock didn't, and they're dead. The Guards are doing what we can to help Drellin's Ferry. I'm not sure what more you could do, but as I said, it'd be welcome."
            Vol nodded at the Captain. "Understood, Captain. We'll do what we can. Can you tell us which way the Sunless Citadel is in and where the most recent attack happened?"
            Jembu listens as the sheriff speaks.
            Anitah nodded. "There's a trail that leads out of town to the west, towards Assardoth. About ten miles out, it splits, with a path heading south. That splits again, with a path toward the Hammerfist Holds, but you just keep walking south. The Old Road runs right by a ravine near the Waste. The Sunless Citadel is in the ravine. No one else uses the Old Road anymore, too much goblin banditry."
            "As for the most recent attack, it was across the Talar, out beyond the outskirts of the town. You can walk The Dawn Way to get there. A few goats were slaughtered."
            When the conversation ends Jembu speaks to the others, "Those who traveled to the Citadel men and women of action they were. The victims prey they were if a hunter still who prowls. Seek first the hunter.
            Nala nodded to Jemba. “Sure. Let’s check out this predator,” she told the loxo. “Might just be a lion or something gotten too bold. And if not, well, it’s too close to people to be safe.”
            Anitah shook her head. "Nothing eaten. Just killed. And no tracks. It didn't seem like any lion attack I've ever heard of." Some of the people lined up behind the party were fidgeting in their impatience to talk to the Captain, and she sighed. "Good luck. Please excuse me." She moved to speak with the next in line, a merchant with some kind of shipping grievance.
            Vol nodded thanks to the Captain. "Thank you, Captain. We'll be back when we have something to tell you." He nodded to the others to head outside.
            Braydok is quiet during the discussion with the sheriff. Afterwards he agrees with the others. "Trained explorers can hold their own for a little longer. For now we must protect the herd. Let's get what gear we need and scout the fields. It's strange that this thing is killing, but not eating. We must hunt the hunter."
            The pale haired elf nodded. "Agreed. Let's find the Dawn Way and take a walk."

            Nominis was quiet in frontier of the sheriff. But once the group returned to the tavern he asked the barkeep is there anything else he could tell us about the citadel, about missing group or the killings. Specifically, he asked for the names of the people killed and locations of the attacks.
            Shadowbanks nodded sagely at Nominis' questions, but apart from the names of the people killed (all farmers), all he could tell the party, they had already heard. The attacks appeared to have been all around town, out at the outskirts, near farms.
            "The Sunless Citadel, eh? Not many people interested in that place. Too close to the Waste. I can only recall the Swords asking, and some guy nigh a dozen years ago. But the Old Bridge Inn is proud to cater to adventurers!" The halfling grinned. "Glad to take your money at dice, too, if you dare to play a bit with whatever treasures you find. Good luck out there!"
            “Great!” Nala’s high voice piped up. “I’ll get my things!” She raced up the stairs to the rooms they had rented and hefted on her pack, settling her wide, woven hat on her rose red hair and securing it with the ties before going down to rejoin the others.