The Whole Story:

First Blood, Journey to Olive Tree Village:

This is the story of four friends from the sleepy little island of Colchis. Our someday heroes are Kosmas, Laos, Leucas, and Anthoon, from here forward known as "The Colchis Group". They began this tale wandering down the main dirt road through their home village of Athos Town. Heading toward the sporting field for a sparring session, they heard a local farmer crying for help.

Rounding a hill, they found Farmer Telus cornered in his sheep pen by several wild dogs. Thanking the gods for the lucky coincidence of being armed, they ran to his assistance and engaged the wicked doggies in battle. The Group handled themselves very well--mostly. Anthoon, brave fellow, ended up squaring off against the runt of the pack, and shortly found himself engaged in a titanic struggle over who would get to walk away carrying Anthoon's nuts. It was a near thing, but Anthoon finally managed to make a pup kabob of the vicious beast, and the generation of little Anthoons at some future date remains a possibility. The other dogs were dispatched with less fuss, excepting a couple of lucky escapees.

Farmer Telus expressed his gratitude by inviting his new friends to dinner. Over that fine meal, it became evident that Our Group was a bit dissatisfied with their opportunities in Athos Town. Telus noted that he was on good terms with Megeus, the village headman, and said he would put in a good word for their capabilities.

The next day, Our Group decided to track down the origins of the vagrant hounds. With astounding acuity, they managed to pick up the trail of the two dogs that had fled. They trailed the animals through some outlying farms--discovering yet another crime, the savage murder of two farmhouse chickens--but eventually lost the trail well outside the village. Discouraged, they trudged back into town to find something Exciting had happened in their absence.

A beautiful woman from the small village to the south had ridden into town. She apparently went straight to Megeus, spoke with him for a while, and rode back out again.

Our young men, emboldened with their recent victory in battle, decided to confront Megeus directly and ask him what had happened. Megeus, in an expansive mood, explained that the woman was from Olive Tree Village, and had asked for help from Athos Town. Her village was being harassed by wild dogs, and they did not have warriors to defend it. Without a moment's hesitation, the Group offered up their services in assistance, and spent the evening preparing for a long journey south.

The trip south was uneventful, but exhausting. Our heroes were unused to hiking through foothills laden down with gear, and the terrain only got rougher as the day wore on. They elected to use a bit of magical pick-me-up to pick them up at the end of the day, as they strolled over the last hill and into the peaceful valley where Olive Tree Village was nestled.

As they approached the village, they got the unmistakable sense that something was wrong. Things were too quiet. There were no children playing, no chimneys smoking, no villagers working. As they approached cautiously, a young pasty-faced man came out from behind a house and hailed them.

He introduced himself as Iphos, and recognized the Group as coming from Athos town. After introductions were made, he asked, "I don't mean to be rude, but can you tell me how soon the warriors will arrive?"

An embarrassing explanation followed, and Iphos went pale (well, paler). He led them to Nestra, the priestess of the village, and explained to her that "these are *the warriors* from Athos Town". Not taking the hint, Nestra asked when the *rest* of the warriors would be arriving. Another embarrassing explanation followed. Our Group explained that there were no other warriors to be had (the great and good of Athos Town were mostly off on a trading expedition) and despite appearances, they were quite capable of taking out a pack of wild dogs.

This time it was Nestra's turn to be embarrassed. She declared it would be easier to show than to tell. Leading them around to the back of the village, they came upon the animal pen of one of the villagers. Inside the pen was a scene of carnage. Blood was splashed over the fence and soaking into the soil, and two great guard mastiffs were dead on the ground amidst the gore. One lay with a huge chunk of its throat torn out. The other had been torn nearly in half. Nestra spoke calmly.

"No wild dogs did this."

To Catch A Monster:

The Group stopped and looked at each other, down at the dead dogs, and back at one another again. Nothing was said, yet somehow all four were thinking exactly the same thing.

"Oh, shit."

There was really only one question, though. Stay and help, or experience a sudden revelation that staring at the ass end of an ass all day maybe was maybe not such a bad life after all. It would be a life, at least.

On the other hand, someday heroes don't leave a helpless village full of children to fend for itself. Taking a collective deep breath, the group decided to stay and do what they could to protect the village. With what remained of the day, they gathered information--examining the slain dogs, checking for tracks, talking with the villagers. They learned that there had been several attacks on the livestock of the village, always rapid, never witnessed. After the last raid but one, the village sent out their best warriors to track and slay the attacker. When those warriors didn't return, the woman Melora went to Athos Town to beg for help.

The group came to some early conclusions about the attacker: a large beast, very fast and deadly, probably acting alone, active during the day, attacking about every three days. It was also noted that each attack was bolder than the last, striking nearer and nearer to the actual village. That night, the young men pondered what they had learned. Violent and horrible scenes haunted their dreams.

The next day, they made a Plan. To avoid a direct confrontation with the deadly fiend, they decided to set a trap. Perhaps a big pit would work; they could dig the pit and then lure the creature into it with a goat or a sheep. Shovels were found--a pit it would be, but would it be enough? Kosmas worried that the creature, once captured, might leap back out again. He suggested an automatic cover for the pit, quickly sketching out a mechanism involving ropes, pulleys, a washing tub, olive oil, and a live plucked chicken. After some discussion of this idea, it was decided to just line the pit with spikes instead.

Laos and one of the villagers started in digging, while the other three young men headed south following the bloody trail left from the previous day's attacks. Well outside the village, around the bend of a hill, they found the mostly-eaten carcass of the sheep. Suddenly, Leucas began to feel uneasy, as though he was being watched. After a tense moment . . . nothing happened. Steeling their nerve, the group widened their search. Kosmas found a bootprint leading away. A bootprint? That shouldn't have been there. Confused, the three returned to the village to talk to Nestra.

Nestra insisted on seeing the evidence for herself. They returned to the scene (this time Laos came too). Nestra's expression grew concerned. She called out to "Menestheus", but got no reply. Swearing the group to secrecy, she told the group she thought the footprints belonged to one of the warriors who had been sent to slay the monster. She was not willing to discuss the subject in detail, saying only that he might be scared to return to the village. She marked a rune of Ernalda on a rock and asked to return to the village.

The group escorted her back, and returned to the dead sheep. With Laos's help, they were able to pick up the trail of the monster and follow it away from the carcass. However, the terrain was rough and hilly and the traveling was slow going. After a couple of hours of tracking to the east, they realized they would need to turn back or end up lost in the dark.

Supper that evening was discouraging. A day lost, much work yet to do, and more questions at the end of the day than when they started. If the monster kept to its pattern, they had one more full day before the next attack. They decided to focus on the Plan and get the pit finished, trusting to the gods that they had the time to do so.

They woke early the next day and got to work. Keeping arms and armor nearby, some watched while others worked. Progress was steady, but slow. Shortly after noon they were interrupted and asked to come to Nestra's house. When they arrived, they found Nestra and a skinny, cringing person who was introduced as Menestheus. It turned out that he and the other two warriors had found the beast's lair, been attacked, the first two warriors had been killed, and Menestheus had fled. Kosmas asked him about the creature; he described it as like a cat, but huge, and with horrible sharp teeth. Hesitantly, he offered to take the Group to the beast's lair. They declined, choosing to stake their efforts and hopes on the completion of the trap, and returned to work.

The sun was low in the sky when Anthoon spotted something in the distance. On a hill, perhaps half a mile away, was something moving. Something large. Something possibly shaped like a big cat. It did not appear to be moving closer, but the group moved closer to their weapons just the same. Eventually, it moved out of sight.

Fear stoked the group's energy. Though the pit was not as big nor as deep as they had planned, they decided to stop digging, and prepare the rest of the trap. Laos had been whittling spikes as he was on watch; they hurriedly set spikes into the floor of the pit and did a shaky job lining the rim of the pit with more spikes pointing down. While climbing out, Anthoon slipped and nearly impaled himself, but escaped with only a gouged arm, quickly healed.

As the twilight grew dim, the group set up the bait for the trap. Originally, they had planned on setting the bait behind the trap, but Leucas suggested they find a way to suspend it over the pit itself. This proved a little tricky, but eventually an unfortunate sheep found itself hanging from a spit over a pit. Next, Leucas suggested they use fishing nets covered with leaves to disguise the pit. By this time the sun had gone down, but when they were finished, they had something that didn't look completely and obviously like a giant hole with spikes at the bottom. At least not in the dark.

The Group was exhausted. They knew the monster was in the area; should they keep a watch, or chance it and hope the monster would not strike before morning? Kosmas suggested that one person keep watch near the trap, and the others camp farther away, near the village. Then, if the monster attacked in the night, the person off by himself could warn the others, who would rush out and slay the beast. The rest of the group conceded that screaming as you were eaten by a monster was a good way to get the rest of the group's attention, but decided they would prefer simply to trust to luck that the next attack would take place in the day, and so they all slept in the village, in the house nearest the trap.

They awoke early the next morning. There was no terrified bleating, no demonic bellowing, no sound of screams. Stepping outside, they saw the sheep, still hanging there, suspended. After donning their arms and armor, they cautiously approached, and gave the near-dead sheep a dose of magical healing to wake it up. This worked, and it resumed a pained bleat and cry. Feeling a bit cruel, the adventurers walked away and began a patrol of the perimeter of the village.

They had gotten about halfway around when they heard a faint crash, followed by a horrible roar. Dashing back around the edge of the village, they saw dust and leaves billowing over the pit. Summoning their courage, they ran toward the trap. As they approached, they could make out a commotion at the edge of the pit. The creature was indeed trying to leap out. (As they ran, Kosmas shouted, "I told you so!") The adventurers were a long stone's throw from the trap when the creature crawled up and onto the ground.

It was a cat, if a cat can be bigger than a horse and still be called a cat. (Had any of the group ever seen a lion, they would have seen it as a king of lions.) It was huge, powerful, savage, and badly injured. A wooden spike still protruded from its forearm. Other bloody wounds dripped along the creature's side and flank. It tottered at the edge of the pit for a moment, saw the men with spears running toward it, and turned to run.

Unfortunately for the beast, it couldn't run very well anymore, and certainly not well enough to outrun spells and arrows. Leucas flung first one and then another magical sting at the beast; Kosmas launched an arrow into its flank. Anthoon and Laos were charging with their spears, and gaining. Realizing it could not flee, the huge creature turned to make its last stand. Laos stabbed at it and missed; Anthoon stabbed and did not. His spear went deep into the monster's front leg, just under the shoulder; when Anthoon pulled the blade back, blood gushed forth in a torrent. The monster halted, gave one last puzzled look down at Anthoon, and collapsed.

The heroes (we can call them that, now) looked back and forth at each another. Dumb grins began to spread across their faces. They had done it. They had saved the village.

Heroes with Dirty Faces:

Our Group began to relax, but Leucas cautioned them to wait. "I've heard too many stories where they thought the monster was dead . . ." He quickly cast a spell to detect hostile intent, and found none. Either the lump of inert bloody monster in front of them was dead, or it had simultaneously gotten a lot friendlier while deciding to take a very abrupt rest.

Then the heroes heard a sound from behind them. Turning quickly, they realized it was cheering. A few of the villagers had come out to watch the battle, and seen the victory. Nestra hurried out to greet them and led them back to the village, where they cleaned up and tried to believe what had just happened.

However, they say the reward for a good deed is to be asked to do another one, and this soon proved to be the case here. Nestra asked the group if they would help her retrieve the bodies of Philos and Ialas, as none of the men of the village were really fit enough to carry the bodies all the way from Half-Peak mountain where they supposedly were.

Our heroes agreed, and they, Nestra, and Menestheus set out to bring closure in this final way to the village. The trip was tiring but uneventful. Menestheus had not lied; the mauled bodies were there, as well as Menestheus's sword and shield. They bundled up the corpses and brought them back to the village, arriving a couple of hours before dark.

That night the village gave Our Group a heroes feast, though not one without a pall of mourning for the village's own lost warriors. But as the twilight dimmed, the mourners slipped away, and the heroes found themselves congratulated and praised again and again. Laos and Kosmas had managed to attract the attention of a couple of the village women, and were soon in deep conversation with their new friends, while Leucas gave a creditable retelling of the battle to much acclaim. (Anthoon was strangely passive during the dinner, a condition that persisted for the rest of this segment of our tale. He is expected to recover by the next telling, though.) Eventually, the celebration wound down, and the heroes went off to bed (new and interesting beds, in the case of Laos and Kosmas).

Next morning, Nestra found each of the heroes and invited them to stay and become permanent residents, touting many benefits such as the learning of new magic and, ah, affectionate companionship. The heroes considered this offer, but in the end negotiated to stay only a week, while Leucas learned an improvement to his healing spell. The group also received a couple of gifts from grateful villagers: a heirloom longbow, and a damaged tunic, clout, and cap of bezainted armor. Neither was immediately useful, but both could perhaps come in handy someday.

For everyone but Leucas, the next week was rather boring. The Group did take trophies from the body of the giant cat: the head, which was stripped down to a skull, the skin, and the claws, which were made into necklaces. The group absented themselves from the funeral for Ialas and Philos, but otherwise helped with the work of the village and waited for Leucas to fully acquire his new mystical insight. At some point, they ended up agreeing to take Menestheus back with them to Athos Town; he had decided it was time for him to make a fresh start.

At last, the week was over and Leucas had learned his new magic. Prizes in hand, the heroes journeyed back to Athos Town. Laden down with giant cat parts, the trip back was long and tiring, but the fact that they were returning victorious sweetened the dust in their mouths. As they entered into town, bearing the huge skull on a makeshift litter, they found themselves hailed and greeted, word spreading of their return in all directions. They went straight to Megeus's tavern; by the time they got there, they had an entourage.

Down went the skull onto the table in front of Megeus. Laos announced:

"This is NO WILD DOG."

Megeus was a bit surprised, and surprised at the crowd, but quickly recovered. He congratulated the group and asked them to sit down. After hearing their story, he reminded them of how they got their start, and asked if Olive Tree Village had given them any reward in exchange for their heroism. "No, none," lied Laos, hoping Megeus would not know exactly what gear belonged to who at the start of the journey. Megeus grumbled, and hinted darkly about problems if he should find out he was being decieved. Kosmas, feeling his oats, responded with a rude gesture. Megeus began to bluster angrily, and started to stand up, but taking note of the crowd, he eventually settled down and confined himself to dirty looks as the group walked out the door. Feeling proud of themselves, the group had the idea of mounting the giant skull over the doorway of the tavern, which the tavernkeeper cheerfully agreed to once he understood what was going on.

A satisfying day behind them, they went off to their respective homes, agreeing to meet the next day and plan their next adventure, whatever that might be. Menestheus ended up trailing along with Leucas, who felt a bit sorry for the misfit fellow.

Early the next day, they gathered in the middle of town to discuss their options. They had barely started talking before an errand boy interrupted them with two messages: first, the village shopkeeper extended his congratulations. Second, he would like them to start paying back the fourteen-chicken debt they had run up buying provisions for their journey. Ahem.

A long story short, our newly minted heroes found themselves reduced to chasing odd jobs around town, or hunting game to sell to the local butcher. Still, being hailed as heroes everywhere they went was a welcome change, and made the foul work of mucking out animal pens more tolerable. And at the end of they day, they had the satisfaction of their fowl debt being one chicken smaller than it had been. Only thirteen chickens to go!

The next day looked to be much like the one before; the day laborers at least found work fence building, while the hunters abroad had the same luck as the day before (none). However, something exciting . . . well . . . at least a little bit interesting did happen while our heroes were off at their labors. Six people from the trading expedition returned, young men a bit older than those of The Group. Apparently they swaggered into town, expecting to be the big news of the day, and were a bit dismayed to find that some other fellows had become the town heroes in their absence. However, Our Group did meet with a couple of them outside the tavern, and Aristus and What's His Name were at least civil and willing to trade stories a bit. The word "opportunity" surfaced more than once in that conversation, and the group renewed their resolve to be on the next trip out of town. A plan formed; they would take themselves to Hymettos, and see if they could trade the cat pelt or their new armor (presently under repair). With luck, they would make enough on the trade to pay off whatever was left of their debt, and, well, perhaps make some further use of whatever other Opportunities they encountered upon arrival.

Until then, though, they might as well chip away at their debt. Another night of sleep, and the in-town gang went directly to work, cleaning animal pens again. The hunters went straight back into the forest, finally killing a deer, good for fair credit from the butcher's shop. And so it was the in-town gang who found out the news first, and even they didn't find out until after lunch.

The skull over the tavern door had disappeared. It was gone.

Leucas went inside to speak with Megeus, who explained that it had been taken in the night, and he had no idea where it was at. He claimed to have suspicions about who had taken it, but wouldn't name names.

Leucas had suspicions too. A bit of asking around, and he found that two of yesterday's returning traders had rented a donkey and cart from the shopkeeper late in the evening. When Leucas tried to track them down, they were nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, Kosmas and Laos returned to town with their kill. It was only after visiting the butcher and then the shopkeeper for a bit of triangular barter that they discovered the missing skull for themselves. Kosmas was instantly convinced that Megeus had taken the skull; Laos was inclined to agree. They stormed into the tavern and Kosmas began shouting at Megeus. Megeus's oversize friend approached Kosmas and asked him to leave; Kosmas refused. Awkward pawing, grappling, and shouting ensued. Kosmas was ignoring Megeus and the big guy and shouting at the tavern owner--the tavern owner heard him, and told him to get out. Crestfallen, Kosmas left. Laos remained and talked with Megeus, who again denied knowing details of the theft, and seemed much more interested in discussing the disrespectful behavior of Kosmas.

Laos left and found Kosmas mumbling something about setting the building on fire. Laos calmed Kosmas down, and after a short discussion they decided to check a suspicion. Visiting the houses of Aristus and The Other Guy, they found both of them out and unavailable. Clearly these were the Skull Stealers and must have skipped town! The young men returned to the main of the village and tracked down Leucas and Anthoon. After trading stories, they all concluded that the returning trading expedition were indeed to blame, and had probably taken the skull to Hymettos to sell it.

Conversation over supper was discouraging. Assuming the group's guess about what had happened was correct, the thieves already had a full day's head start. Also, if our heroes were to set out in chase, there was the additional requirement of timing their travel to pass through the haunted village during the day. Really, there was no hope of catching up.

Grudgingly, the group decided to continue working and whittling down their debt. They would at least wait for the armor to be repaired to saleable condition before setting out on any cross-island treks. But they also knew that sooner or later, they would encounter the thieves again, and on that day, there would be a reckoning.

The King He Is In Need Of Men:

And so they slept and rose again for another day of humdrum labor. The Group again split up, with Laos and Kosmas hunting for game and the rest of the group looking for odd work in town. The hunters got lucky with another deer and the townies got the usual dirty work. By the end of the day, they had knocked down their debt some more, only three chickens left. Kosmas and Anthoon had been getting pressure from their fathers to spend some time working around the farm, and the group decided to spend the next day doing just that and pleasing the parents. A visit to the leatherworker confirmed that the armor would be ready sometime the next day, so one more day of tedious work seemed bearable.

And it was, barely. Some had to work harder than others catching up on neglected duties, but at the end of the day the work was done . . . and so was the armor. The group decided to get up early the next morning, an hour before dawn, and set out for Hymettos. Plausible lies were told to parents to account for another long absence. A trip to Makis the shopkeeper reserved the use of a pack donkey for the next day (an old one, but the younger jack and cart were had already been taken by someone. . .) The Group felt a twinge of regret at running back up their debt, but it seemed a worthwhile investment: sooner or later the Skull Stealers would be coming back to Athos Town. If they crossed paths on the road, our heroes didn't want to be laden down with packs and unable to engage in "some serious ass-kicking" (as Laos put it).

Early the next morning . . . half the group overslept. By the time they all gathered at Leucas's house, dawn had already broken. Hurriedly gathering themselves together, they proceeded through town headed north. A surprise awaited them at the tavern, though.

The sabre-toothed tiger skull was back again.

The group rubbed their eyes and examined the skull. Yes, it was the same skull. Yes, it was right back where it had been. A brief debate was held; they were already late, and Anthoon was staggering under the weight of the tiger pelt. They decided to postpone dealing with this development until they returned to Athos Town.

Arriving at Makis's, they found that the younger donkey and cart had been returned. Makis cheerfully informed them that Aristus, Schymel, and The Other Guy had returned late last night, and, if the group liked, they could use the younger animal. (The donkey was less than thrilled about this conversation.) After a bit of teeth-grinding, the group agreed that they'd pay the higher rate for the sturdier beast of burden. They loaded up. Anthoon broke out his flute and piped a tune. They set out on Athos Town Freeway and headed north.

The road was long and tiring, but their spirits felt light. The hours rolled by, they stopped for lunch, they started again. As they afternoon got late, they began to get nervous about making the haunted village before dark. But the sun was still well over the horizon when they came upon a couple of trees blazed with deep "Xs", and as they went around a bend in the road they saw an open area with decrepit buildings; they must be at the haunted village.

Something was obviously wrong here. The road they were on was winding through light forest and scrub; as they got closer, the plants grew thin and then disappeared completely. The sounds of the wilderness grew faint, and as the group walked into the barren zone, an unpleasant silence surrounded them. There were no birds or insects, only the falling down remains of buildings. The donkey was visibly nervous. The former village seemed not so much haunted as cursed.

Off the faint path, Leucas saw something reflective shining from inside a building. Checking the sun, he announced he was going to go investigate. Reluctantly, the rest of the group followed him. He got to the building, and looked in through the window, trying to peer around the collapsed ceiling. But now there was nothing. He lit his lantern and shone it in through the window; still nothing. Whatever it was seemed to have disappeared. His friends anxiously tried to persuade him to give up his search. Finally, he agreed, glancing back over his shoulder as they returned to the path.

It took only a few more uncomfortable minutes to exit the blighted area. Relieved to have this obstacle behind them, our group marched on most of another hour before encountering a path leading east. This was unexpected. Impulsively they took the detour, just to see if it led anywhere interesting. After about fifteen minutes, they gave up, but decided to just make camp for the night. Supper was followed by a bit of flute playing and guitar work, and not long after everyone was asleep.

They woke up the next morning at dawn, still alive. They decided to continue pursuing the strange path to the east. After nearly an hour, they came upon the ocean. A cliff lay ahead of them. They approached it and found a switchback leading down to a boat. "In for a penny," said Anthoon, and nearly killed himself getting down the slope to investigate. At the bottom he found a boat with fishing nets and oars, tethered. Disappointed at having wasted well over an hour, the group made their way back to the main trail.

A bit before noon, they saw a farmstead, then another. They realized they had reached the village of Padmun. There was not much of note there. Kosmas was disturbed to find some children playing at being *elves*, and a strange woman who looked as though she had been beaten up cursed at them, but otherwise Padmun was only a brief change of scenery they passed through quickly.

They walked without incident until mid-afternoon, when they saw the sea in the distance and a few farmsteads. Hymettos, at last. They strolled into the village, gawping like tourists. As they got nearer they looked for a ship anchored in the harbor, but there was none. This alarmed them, but conversation with the locals made it clear the ship had only stayed for a few days anyway; there were still plenty of mainlanders up at the army encampment, and there was still trading going on.

No point in wasting time; the group headed out of town to the east where the encampment was supposed to be. Pressing on by a pimp and a prostitute on the edge of town, they saw the army tents upon a nearby hill. As they approached the guards posted at the edge of the camp, they noticed another, separate camp nearby. After a moment, they recognized some people there as the main trading group from Athos Town. Kosmas felt his temper rising at the mere sight of them, and hoped they would not be noticed.

They spoke with the guard, who informed them that trading was closed for that day. As they chatted, the guard noticed the necklaces of tiger claws each member of the group was wearing. He asked them if they had bought the claws from the guys who killed the tiger.

"WE killed the tiger," said Kosmas, and promptly began to tell the story of their clever victory.

The guard cut them off, and said he'd heard it already, proceeding to fill in the remaining details himself. The group got a little agitated, and explained that no matter what he had heard, *they* were the heroes of that story. The guard remained unimpressed.

"Look, it doesn't really matter. The reward has already been claimed, and whether you're telling the truth or not, I'm pretty sure Captian Bias ain't paying it out again."

Did they just hear that right? Kosmas's face started turning red. "Reward? . . . How much reward?"

"A hundred silver pieces, for getting rid of the loose tiger. But forget about it, friend, it's gone. Come back and trade tomorrow."

The group looked at each other. A hundred silver pieces, that would be something like . . . ten hundred chickens. Two silver pieces would have paid off their entire debt to Makis with credit left over. While they were wallowing in animal shit, the Skull Stealers were busy claiming this enormous reward that was rightfully theirs. Kosmas began cursing and put his hand on his club.

The guard didn't appreciate this too much, and insisted he calm down. As in immediately. Taking note of him, the other guard, and the large tent with soldiers just up the hill, Kosmas mastered his anger. Thanking the guard, they began to take their leave. But before they left, the guard stopped them and said something else.

"I think I believe you guys. I don't think the Captain will pay out any more money, but he might be interested in talking to you about something else, could be worth your while. Come at ten tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

The group agreed--why not?--and left, puzzled. As they were leaving, someone from the Athos Town camp saw Anthoon and called out to him. Kosmas convinced Anthoon to avoid him; Anthoon gave a little half-wave, ducked his head, and he and the group scuttled away quickly.

Upon returning to the main of town, they split up to explore the opportunities of Hymettos; some looked for magic teachers, others for shops to improve their travelling kit or weaponry. Someone managed to take the tiger pelt around for pricing; it looked like ten silver pieces was the best price they could get, and not all of that in cash. Still, it was better than chicken feed. Or chickens.

They made camp in an empty area south of town, tired. They ate and fell asleep soon after dark, their minds grappling with all the new and strange events.

They awoke with dawn the next morning, and quickly broke camp. Heading into town, they found the shopkeeper from the previous day just opening his store. He bought their pelt at the agreed-upon price: five silver pieces and five more in store credit. They agreed to meet at the army encampment at nine-thirty, and again split up to find ways to spend their new (if tiny) fortunes. These expeditions had no concrete results and were not noteworthy, with one exception. On the south end of the village, Leucas brushed shoulders with a small person in a big hurry, heading out of town. Something was strange about this person, besides his rapid pace. As Leucas looked closer, he saw green garb, pointed ears and fine features. This must be an elf! Leucas stared as he zipped around a curve and out of sight, and gave private thanks that Kosmas was elsewhere during this brief and odd encounter.

Reuniting at the base of the army camp, the group waited nervously and impatiently. Earlier, Kosmas had sketched out a plan where they would persuade the captain to loan them some soldiers to accompany the group back to Athos Town. The soldiers would help the group reclaim their rights and the reward, and the captain would get a good chunk of the reclaimed silver in appreciation for the assistance. Everybody would come out a winner--but would the captain be sensible enough to see it that way?

While they waited, they were again spied by a trader from Athos Town. This time, he came down to visit, again addressing himself mostly to Anthoon. The conversation was uncomfortable, and the Group was too distracted to pay much attention to the trader, but Kosmas at least made it clear that *they* were the heroes, and those other guys were a bunch of thieving liars. Mercifully, they were rescued by the arrival of a soldier who said they were to see the Captain. Leaving their arms at the guard post, they walked up the hill into the camp.

Just on the other side of the hill, they saw what must be the captain's tent. But also, farther down the hill, was a unusually fine tent. Outside the tent were two guards, and one large, fearsome, chained sabre-toothed tiger. A-ha. That explained something.

Entering into the captain's tent, they met a small, intense man who introduced himself as Captain Bias. He asked to hear their story. Leucas smiled, and launched into another telling of his now-polished saga, but unfortunately the captain was less appreciative than the Athos Town villagers. "I don't care about that." "Get to the point." "Move it along." Leucas was thrown off by this, but eventually the tale of tiger-slaying and skull thievery was told. They looked at the captain expectantly.

In his usual clipped manner, the captain told them to forget about the reward; it was for solving a problem and the problem was solved. If they could go get the reward from those that had stolen it, that was fine with him, but he was done with the matter. End of discussion. However, the Troizen army was in need of men. Men who could handle a sword and spear, who were brave, and could manage difficult situations, were fine candidates for military service. Dangerous work, tolerable pay, guaranteed adventure, a chance at glory. The ship would be back in eight days and leave in ten. If the group elected to enlist, come see him again before then. Dismissed.

Kosmas began to explain his plan to reclaim the money, jumping quickly to the part where the captain got his kickback, but he was cut off unceremoniously and told not to ask about it any more. Kosmas nodded in acquiescense. Well, it was worth a try.

They left the tent and headed back down the hill to where their weapons were. Leucas sighed in relief at being out of the oppressive captain's tent. If joining the army meant getting that kind of bossing full time, he could do without it. Fortunately, his companions seemed to have even more trouble with authority than he did. There wasn't much chance that they'd be interested in putting themselves under military discipline. He started to make a wisecrack, looking over at the other three.

Anthoon was looking impassively ahead, but he had his chest puffed out and his spine ramrod straight. Laos suddenly dropped low and feinted a pretend sword blow at Kosmas, who dodged and faked a kick in return. They both noticed Leucas watching them and looked back at him, eyes sparkling, big grins on their faces.

Some Justice:

They looked at one another a moment more, and more solemnly went down the hill to where their weapons and pack donkey were waiting. Asking the guard about doing some trading, they found the trading area wouldn't be open until after lunch.

Our heroes figured lunch sounded pretty good, and started to leave, but one of the merchants from the Athos Town camp hurried down to catch them. Pulling them aside, he expressed some concern that they might be thinking about joining the army, and spoke earnestly about Athos Town needing to keep its young men, and the bright future Athos Town and the rest of the island would surely see now that traffic with the mainland was reestablished. He went on to say that he now had some doubts about who had really deserved the reward, and that he and several of the other men were determined to see the truth out and justice done, if they would just accompany the caravan back to Athos Town the next day.

Well, the group was not sure about this, but it seemed like good news. They took their leave and headed back into town. On the way, Anthoon pulled out his flute and began piping a happy little melody. The high spirits were contagious. Soon Kosmas was strumming his guitar, and Laos and Menestheus joined in singing. As they passed through the town, the people of Hymettos watched with some amusement, and all who saw them agreed that the enthusiastic cacophony filled a much-needed silence.

Cashing in some store credit, the group splurged on an excellent lunch of fried fish at Crector's tavern and grill. Now well sated, they headed back toward the encampment. Suddenly, Laos and Anthoon stopped and squinted ahead. Yes, it was two of the Skull Stealers, still in town, and those two noticed The Group at about the same time.

Everyone paused and stared at each other for a moment. Then Laos shouted "Hey you!" and started forward. The two thieves (the group knew them as Hiples and Pitthep) decided five angry men was more than they wanted to deal with, and started running.

A confused mess of chasing and fighting followed. Hiples, the big guy, slipped in the mud and was soon set upon by Laos and Anthoon. Anthoon tried to wrestle and pin him down. Laos stayed standing and picked his moment to give Hiples a savage kick to the chest, then joined in the grappling. Before long, they had pinned and disarmed the lout.

Meanwhile, Pitthep (the mean guy) decided to desert his clumsy companion and make a solo escape. Kosmas set out after him, but found himself ambushed after following Pitthep around a corner. Moments later Kosmas was flat on his back, lying in the remains of what used to be his guitar. Pitthep grinned down at him.

An instant later Pitthep wasn't grinning anymore. During the scuffle, Leucas had snuck around the other side of the building and come up behind Pitthep. First Leucas gave him a painful magical zap, and then grabbed him by the arm, intending to slam him into the wall. Pitthep stood his ground and struggled with Leucas, but time was not on his side. Kosmas got up and started kicking him, and soon Laos and Menestheus ran up to join the battle. Outnumbered four to one, Pitthep surrendered.

Our heroes tried to question the pair, but without much luck. "Just take us up to my dad," was all Hiples would say. The Group actually thought this was a pretty good idea, and marched the pair out through town to the camp. Hiples first tried some lies to paint the Group as a band of vicious muggers, and then tried to blame Aristus for everything. Finding his audience unconvinced, he then broke out with a tirade against the group that was as good as a confession. One man pointed out that Hiples had recently come and stashed some gear in his father's tent. Perhaps there was reward money there? Grudgingly, Hiples's father allowed another merchant to search through the tent, where thirty-seven pieces of silver were found tucked away in a pouch.

The merchants were concerned about a feud. Before handing over the money to the rightful owners, they insisted everyone involved swear to Orlanth that the enmity would end here. Each young man took his oath, and the Group then found themselves in possession of rather more money than any of them had had at one time before.

The money was burning their pockets, but the group was practically at the trading square already, it was after lunch, and they had the armor with them. Hiking over, they prepared to sell the reworked tunic and cap. However, the guard they'd been chatting with advised them to hold on to it if they were going to join the army. "Sure you'll get you some armor, sure, but what you get I ain't saying for sure what, if you know what I mean. Bring your own if you got it." The last sentence was clear, anyway, and a further suggestion to spend a bit of coin to have the armor resized settled the question, and they left and started heading back into town.

Agreeing to meet back at the caravan camp in the evening, the Group split up and looked for ways to spend their new modest fortunes. Much like before, the bronzesmith, bowyer, and magic teachers got a good deal of attention, and some new armaments werecommissioned. Leucas, still sore at his lack of luck in love at Olive Tree Village, took a detour by the red-trimmed tent, and made an appointment for later in the evening.

Late that afternoon the group reunited, and lounged around the camp until supper. After supper, Hiples and Pitthep absented themselves and went into town, and shortly thereafter Leucas walked down the hill as well. The rest of the group hung around and chatted, feeling a bit exiled until a few of the merchants came over and asked to hear the real story of how the tiger was slain, and the conversation flowed freely from there. Late in the evening, Leucas returned with a satisfied and happy expression on his face, but a warning that Alabram the pimp was not really an honorable fellow. Apparently Leucas had paid for an entire evening, but once he fell asleep his girlfriend-by-the-hour went on to another customer! And Alabram absolutely refused to refund any of his money, even when asked very politely. Leucas would NOT be visiting that tent again, and he advised the rest of the group not to do so either. Kosmas, grinning, said he could get better crabs down at Crab Rock Beach and not have to pay for them either. Saying goodnight, he went into his tent to sleep, and soon everyone else did the same.

Early the next morning, the group set out with the caravan back to Athos Town. They noticed that Pitthep and Hiples were not with them. Perhaps they had raced ahead last night to warn the other thieves? If so, they were probably too far ahead to catch. The group decided to stay with the caravan until Padmun, where the merchants began to make camp. It was only about four in the afternoon; the caravan moved rather slowly. Rather than waste more time, the group pressed on and camped at the same site as they had on the journey up, not quite an hour north of the haunted village.

They awoke at dawn and cautiously approached the village. It was light, though not bright yet. Nothing seemed amiss, so the group proceeded on through the bare territory. At one point, Laos thought he caught a whiff of something foul, but only for a moment. Nevertheless, the group tried to watch on all sides and picked up the pace. They reached the other side of the haunted area without incident, and indeed the rest of the hike to Athos Town was dull and uneventful.

They gave back the donkey and paid off Makis with silver, quite to his satisfaction. A bit of questioning around town suggested that Hiples and Pitthep had not run ahead of the group. Relieved, the group decided to trust to the judging of the town elders to claim the rest of their rightful reward. The merchant caravan would be back the next day, and (the young men hoped) would witness to the truth of what had happened. The group went to their respective houses and slept uneasily waiting for the next day.

Before the caravan arrived the next morning, Kosmas surprised everyone by going to see Megeus and apologizing. He had blamed Megeus for the theft of the skull, and he was wrong. Megeus was no less surprised than anyone else, but soon recovered and made a grandiose and lordly acceptance of the apology. They were friends again. Well, sort of. Ok, maybe not really.

The group waited in the center of town for the caravan to arrive, drawing attention and feeling like they were pointlessly wasting time. The skies clouded over and threatened rain. The minutes and then hours ticked by. Finally, mid-afternoon, the caravan returned. The merchant did agree to witness for the group. Could the culprits be found?

It took some time, but by evening Aristus, Polus, and Schymel had appeared in person, along with two of the town elders, and a trial was held. (The sixth member of the original trading expedition turned out to have refused the run to Hymettos and had been in town the whole time.) Aristus insisted throughout the trial that Hiples and Pitthep had claimed the whole reward for themselves, but the town elders were unconvinced, and judged the three guilty of theft. Each was assessed recompensation of twenty-five silver pieces: the original twenty plus five as additional penalty for the theft itself. The townspeople were offered the usual opportunity to speak against the verdict. No one did.

The Group was now even richer, at least in theory. Though the debt was assessed, the only enforcement was the need of the guilty to restore their good name. This usually proved sufficient, but if our heroes were to make the next ship off Colchis, they couldn't wait around long to find out. But this felt like a victory nonetheless. They clapped one another on the back and went back to their respective houses, to sleep soundly and let tomorrow worry about itself for once.

Assembled Here The Volunteers:

The next morning the friends gathered in town again. Before anyone could even ask the question "what are we going to do now," Kosmas announced that he had a Plan. They would go talk to Megeus, and get him to buy their claims against the three Skull Stealers. In exchange, Megeus would provide them with riding horses and pack animals: four riding horses and one pack horse, to be precise.

The Group was not too sure about this. Anthoon, in particular, was suspicious. Why did they need riding horses? Would they be able to take horses with them after joining the army? Anthoon had his eye on a new sword--he'd much rather get coin instead. What were the chances of Megeus going along with this plan anyway? But Kosmas insisted, and, more by persistence than persuasion, got the group to agree to his plan. Later that morning they strode into the tavern to see Megeus.

Megeus greeted them cheerfully, but it took scarcely a moment for the conversation to turn to money. Megeus reminded them again who had given them the original assignment to Olive Tree Village, and now that a reward had appeared, claimed some sharing was in order. Kosmas launched into his planned proposition, adding a promise of a share in the Group's fortunes when they returned to Colchis as rich heroes. The two haggled for a while. Kosmas, not normally known for tact, seemed today to have an uncanny knack for stoking Megeus's greed and cooling his doubts. To everyone's amazement, by the time the conversation was done, Megeus had agreed to "do his best" to meet the request.

The remainder of the morning was spent notifying debtors that the debt would be transferred, and requesting the original elders to witness the transfer itself. None of the debtors were agreeable to this plan, and two of them promised to show up and fight it.

Upon returning to town, the Group found that Megeus had only been able to acquire part of what they had asked for. More negotiation ensued, and a somewhat dazed Megeus agreed to revised terms of two riding horses, two donkeys, and a cart. Of course, they had to succeed in getting the debt transferred first.

The debtors and elders trickled in over the course of the afternoon, and several other villagers showed up to watch the show. Aristus and Schymel objected to the transfer as promised, but their complaints did not carry the day, and Megeus ended up the new owner of seventy-five silver pieces of debt. The gathering broke up, and the group said goodbye to Megeus, who promised the transport animals would be waiting the next morning at the tavern. With a bit of trepidation, the Group broke up and went back to their respective homes. Anthoon and Kosmas said goodbye to their families. Laos told his mother he was leaving--again. Leucas told Menestheus he could keep Leucas's house, and wished him well. Goodbyes said, they went to sleep in their native Athos Town for perhaps the last time ever.

The next morning the group met at the tavern. Megeus was not there--was he going to cheat them? No, he kept the bargain, and the animals and the cart arrived, though rather later than the group would have liked. They waved goodbye and set out for Hymettos, with Anthoon, Laos, and Kosmas each sneaking a last look back over his shoulder when he thought no one else was looking.

The next two days of travel went slower than they had expected. First, the group found out that they were not horse riders. An unlucky encounter with a snake ended with both Kosmas and Anthoon getting thrown from the saddle. Later, Laos took an attempt at riding but soon spooked his own mount, who took the opportunity to remove the inexperienced rider by way of a low hanging branch. No one was seriously hurt in the tumbles, and recovering the horses only caused a minor delay, but the group decided they'd better lead the horses from the ground. This resulted in some grumbling from Anthoon: seventy-five silver pieces might be reasonable for riding horses, but definitely not for walking-alongside horses.

Another delay occured when they passed through the haunted village. Leucas again insisted on "just looking around a bit". Going back to the building that caught his attention before, he looked inside and eventually crawled into the collapsed home. No hidden treasures or horrible deadly monsters were found, only some abandoned cookware, and Leucas finally gave up and agreed to proceed on toward their goal.

The group arrived in Hymettos late in the afternoon. A round about town acquired some weapons and musical instruments that had been ordered before, and a trip to the army camp confirmed an appointment with Captain Bias the next day--"don't be late". Kosmas and Anthoon annoyed the horses briefly with something they claimed was music before turning in to sleep.

Next morning, the first full day back in Hymettos, the group packed up and headed to the encampment: gear, menagerie and all. This set the guards to chuckling. Our heroes were dismayed to learn there was no room for horses and pack animals on the ship back to the mainland. Setting those concerns aside for the moment, they went up the hill to meet with Captain Bias again. They got a brief introduction to what they were signing up for, the most important points of which were "the penalty for desertion is death" and notably for Kosmas, "an elf is sailing with us; leave him alone". They were told to show up the next morning for assessment, tattooing, and induction. One day to think this over; did they really want to do it?

Apparently they did. Since all the animals were staying on the island one way or another, the Group offered to sell them and the cart to the army. After a bit of haggling with the quartermaster, a price of forty silver was settled on for the lot. Ignoring the muffled yelps from Anthoon, the exchange was made. The group spent the next few hours going through the painful but necessary process of sifting down their remaining gear to what they could actually carry themselves. A trip to the Hymettos shopkeeper disposed of the extra gear in exchange for store credit, some better blankets, and a single four-man tent. The new silver along with a bit of marker-trading led to some shiny new weapons being acquired, including the broadsword Anthoon had nearly despaired of. The rest of the day was spent in the tavern, enjoying their final day as their own men, drinking and being asked not to play their music where other patrons might hear them. Their sleep that night was peaceful and uninterrupted.

The next morning they went up to the army camp. Due to a chance comment heard in town, they were not completely surprised to see Hiples and Pitthep there. Also, the sixth member of the original trading group, Anaxas, was present. Since he had not participated in the theft, and in fact witnessed for them at the trial, they were well disposed toward him. Hiples and Pitthep were not so friendly, and some unpleasant comments flew back and forth. But despite claims on both sides to the contrary, there were no blows exchanged.

Slowly, the Group was ground through the induction machinery. Their fighting skills and spellcasting were rated, and their gear was recorded. They got the Closed Fist tattoo upon their temples, and then spent much of the rest of the day standing around. To pass the time they tried and failed to engage Anaxas in conversation, and tried and succeeded in annoying Hiples and Pitthep with piping, strumming, and some epileptic seizing that Laos thought was dancing. The food was tolerable (mmm, fresh donkey!) and their tent that night was no worse than what they'd been sleeping under all along.

The next day they gathered up their gear and . . . waited. Kosmas gritted his teeth as The Elf rolled in his cart of gear and boarded the ship. Soon enough all the new soldiers were rowed out and loaded on the ship themselves. The group stood next to the railing and waited. After what seemed like forever, the anchor was raised and the ship set said to the north. The group watched the island shrink and felt a sad feeling in their stomachs. No, that was seasickness. Oh, my, that was seasickness.

About four hours or perhaps four lifetimes later, the ship reached the mainland. But this was not where the Group was to stay. They (and the other new soldiers) set foot only briefly on shore, and from there were transferred to a warship, which soon set sail to the west. Alas, they were no less seasick for the change in direction, and the Group was soon face down in the scuppers again. Leucas groaned, and summoned the strength to ask one of the sailors how much farther they had to go. The man looked down and laughed.

"You lads are headed for the border. Wind willing, you've got six days more to go, greenboy."

Wasted and Wounded:

Worse news for the “greenboys”, the journey west actually took eight days. But bit by bit, our heroes did get their sea-stomachs and were able to get up and do . . . nothing. At least getting over seasickness meant they could sleep and eat. The second day, the group did get introduced to their temporary commanding officer, Lieutenant Permere. He was not a regular soldier on the border, and apparently was escorting the new recruits as part of another mission (which he did not discuss). To the Group, he seemed a bit stuffy and distant, but he did tell them some tales about what they might find on the border: broo, scorpion men, ogres, trolls, and savage nomads of the wastes. The young men’s eyes gleamed at these stories, and they in turn told their tale of slaying the sabretoothed tiger. The lieutenant also mentioned that of the sixteen recruits on board, half would be going to the border and half would be dropped off at an earlier point, escorted by a different officer. The group immediately asked, and yes, Hiples, Pitthep, and Anaxas would all be posted at the same place as Our Group. Laos and Kosmas exchanged wicked grins at this news.

Not being sailors, our heroes didn’t have much to do during those eight days except sit around and not fall overboard. A storm came up and terrified all the recruits, but it was apparently a mild one, and only resulted in a day’s delay. During the three day sail around the Ecthelion Fens, some strange lights winked on and off at night, and an enormous but indistinct beast was sighted moving around on shore, but no snakes swam out to attack the ship as some of the sailors had feared, and the only danger to the passengers was the dreadful smell that wafted out over the waves.

Eventually, that too began to fade, and the coastline showed more trees and normal green vegetation. It was then that some pigeons were brought out and released, to send advance warning of the Group’s arrival up to the border post. A few hours later, the ship arrived at a small port town where the first half of the recruits would disembark. Supplies were unloaded and men gathered their gear to leave the ship. The officer from the town came out on a boat and talked a bit to the ship’s captain, and then to Lieutenant Permere. The discussion grew heated, but when Permere came over to speak to the remaining eight men, it was clear the other officer had prevailed.

“Half of you need to go with this man. You’ve been requisitioned. All the paperwork is in order. Get your gear and go. You four, you with the tiger story, you stay, the rest of you go.”

The Group watched as the four others packed up and set off in the boat for shore. While they weren’t exactly sorry to see Hiples and Pitthep go, they were nevertheless familiar faces from home. Also, their numbers had just been cut in half. If the border was as dangerous as the stories would have it, that wasn’t good. At least they still had the lieutenant.

Soon the ship was back on route, and the captain informed them it would be sometime the next morning when they arrived at their drop point. One last day. Anthoon, who had only just gotten over his seasickness, actually stood up and cheered.

By this time the Group could sleep at night, if not exactly comfortably. They awoke the next morning to see a coastline that looked rather barren and desolate. Well, the wouldn’t call it the Wastes if it was lush and beautiful, would they? They spent a few anxious hours waiting as the ship continued north. Finally the sailors brought the ship to a halt. Lieutenant Permere and the ship’s captain had another, ah, emphatic conversation.

Permere came over and explained that there was supposed to be an escort group waiting for them, but they apparently hadn’t arrived yet. They would go ahead and unload supplies and wait for them to show up. The Group proceeded to do that, moving both their own gear and some barrels and bundles of supplies. When they had finished, the escort still had not appeared. They stood around and talked and waited, mostly joking about the hour upon hour of vomit and sleepless nights now behind them.

Later, they would remember laughing, agreeing the ship’s voyage was the worst thing that had ever happened to them.

As the minutes crept by, a boat from the ship came out to warn the soldiers that the captain was not willing to stay in the area much longer. A half hour later, the boat came out a second time--were they going to stay, or pack up and return to the ship? If they were staying, this was goodbye.

Lieutenant Permere thought for a moment, indecisive. He announced that they would stay, and wait for the escort, which would surely arrive soon. Though they were finally on dry land, the Group all had an ill feeling in their stomachs as they watched the ship sail slowly away to the south.

It was nearly another hour before Permere gave up, uncertain whether they should stay to protect the supplies, or try to make the fort on their own. He had been to the fort once before, and said the journey would take about nine hours on foot. The prospect of getting caught out at night finally decided him: the hour was upon them where they either needed to move or plan on staying the night in the open.

Trudging under heavy packs hadn’t gotten any more fun since the last time they did it. The first time weariness started to set into their bones, they took a rest. A couple of hours later the Group was groaning again, but Permere was worried they weren’t making good time, so Laos cast a bit of hunter’s magic to take the edge off their fatigue. Since they had no food, there was no need to stop for lunch.

It was something like one in the afternoon when Leucas noticed something down in the hollow between two hills. Looking closer, it was an animal, a mule or a horse, just standing there. Certainly, this was not normal. The group held a quick discussion. Could it be a trap? Was this perhaps from the escort group? Our heroes looked to Lt. Permere for a decision, but the lieutenant wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to waste time, but it might be important, also. He wanted to hear everyone else’s opinion. After a muddled discussion, the group somehow came to the decision that they would approach cautiously and have Leucas detect any hidden enemies that might be prepared to spring out at them.


They found no lurking fiends, and did find the animal to be a mule, skittish, injured, with a set of broken traces still dangling. Lt. Permere looked sick. “This must have been from the escort group. Something bad happened.” The animal smelled bad, even for a mule. Something foul, perhaps feces, had been smeared along its hindquarters. Laos leaned over to look more closely at a long scratch on the animal’s leg. Looking back over his shoulder, he called to Permere:

"Lieutenant, do you want to get this ass or what?"

Permere looked at Laos and went pale for a moment, then blushed. Leucas spoke dryly.

<>"Laos, that’s a mule. At least I *hope* you’re talking about the mule."

A bit of embarrassed stammering ensued. Permere finally managed to say that making use of the mule was a good idea. Using some rope they had cleverly remembered to pack, they rigged up a sling and hung their gear over the unfortunate animal’s back. Though nervous, the animal consented to this and to being led by the men.

As they climbed the hill out of the hollow, the breeze brought them an odor that got worse and worse: the smells of blood, shit, and death. By the time they reached the top of the rise, they had already guessed what they would find.

Below them was another hollow. In it were the bloody remains of what had been the escort group. Dead men and things that were not quite men were strewn across the ground. A dead mule lay disemboweled next to a smashed cart. The Group gagged at the stench and the sight. As they watched, they thought they heard a human cry out, and then they saw something moving.

It was a small figure, man shaped but much smaller. It saw the group and ran closer to them, stopping at the edge of the carnage and shouting something unintelligible. It moved incredibly fast. As they got a better look, they saw that it had a ram’s head and filthy wool covering its arms and shoulders. It carried a small sword. Though everyone had guessed already, Permere explained what it was.

“That’s a broo. Oh, this is bad.”

The group held a hasty discussion. Should they just go around this mess? It wasn’t likely they could do much down there. This was a horrible scene better left avoided. But what if there was someone left alive? Also, even if there wasn’t, Anthoon pointed out that the little guy might be a useful hostage if they ran into more broo. Failing that he might prove to know something useful if interrogated.

They decided to investigate, and see if they could catch the creature. As they started to come down the hill, the thing shouted again. This time they could make out what it said.

“Eat my shit!”

It capered around and flung something at them. At first the group wondered what it was throwing, but when it squatted to produce the next handful, they wondered no more. Then the group heard a voice cry out, “don’t . . .” The little beast spun around, drew its sword, and sped over to one of the bodies, stabbing it several times, blood spurting briefly. It looked up and cackled. “Eat my shit, ha ha ha ha ha!”

The Group looked at each other in horror, and doubled their pace, splitting up to catch the creature whichever way it might run. Laos drew his bow to shoot it if he got a good opportunity. As they strode across the battlefield, the creature ran behind the broken cart and snarled at them.

Then bad things started happening all at once.

A dead broo reached out and swung a ball and chain at Permere. Another dead broo grabbed a nearby sword and swung at Anthoon. Two other dead broo climbed to their feet, and the nasty little creature charged out from behind the cart to attack. Four of the dead broo weren’t dead at all. It was a trap. The group had walked right into the middle of it.

Somehow Anthoon and Permere dodged the surprise attacks and got themselves positioned for battle. The men got a look at what they were facing: creatures out of nightmares. Filthy, fouled skin and clothes. Sharpened goat’s horns and deer’s antlers smeared with offal. Wicked, snapping, broken teeth. A gaping raw eyesocket. A missing arm replaced with a ball and chain. A distorted mouth dripping green bile. A bare torso covered with runes and sigils, branded and scarred into the flesh.

But it was too late to flee; the horrible creatures were upon them. The Group must fight for their lives. Permere and Leucas fought against one ambusher. Laos and the sorcerer-broo faced off against one another at a distance. Three broo--two ambushers and the nasty little creature--ganged up against Kosmas and Anthoon.

Permere and Leucas handled themselves well against their attacker. The swipes from the ball and chain were viciously strong, but Permere managed to block them with his shield and soon dealt a return stroke that savaged the broo’s leg, dropping the man-thing into the dirt. The broo tried to continue fighting from the ground, but was clearly much less dangerous. Permere dealt out another telling blow to the creature and then ran over to help Anthoon and Kosmas, leaving Leucas to finish off the monster with sword and spell.

Anthoon and Kosmas were almost past needing help. The two large broo had converged upon Anthoon, hacking away. A devastating stroke to Anthoon’s leg would have severed it, but he managed a heroic parry with his shield. Alas, he did not parry the next blow from the other creature. The befouled sword sliced through Anthoon’s guard, armor, and arm. Anthoon gaped in shock as his arm and sword spun away into the muck.

Kosmas, meanwhile, was busy with the speedy little broo. A lucky hit shattered its leg, and left it scuttling around ineffectually. Kosmas then tried to move in to protect Anthoon, but a vicious swordswipe from one of the large broo slashed his arm down to the bone. Kosmas’s mace fell to the ground and his arm hung useless. Both men were parrying with one arm and doing their best to bash their opponents with their shields as the creatures hacked away at them. One of the broo paused and vomited out a long green tongue at Anthoon; Anthoon blocked the tongue, only to see his shield being eaten away by acidic slime. Things didn’t look good for our heroes.

But it was then that Permere arrived. Shouting at Anthoon to fall back, he stepped forward to face the slavering monster. At that same moment, Laos felt his aim click true, and shot an arrow deep into the ribcage of the deer-headed sorcerer. In an instant the tide of the battle had turned.


The sorcerer shouted orders at the other broo, and they began to fall back. Our heroes, badly hurt, did not pursue. The little shit-slinger was picked up and carried; the other wounded broo crawled slowly toward its leader as Leucas shot spells into it. Suddenly a wall of darkness appeared between the Group and the broo. The men grouped together and waited: would they be attacked again? Moments stretched into minutes; Leucas cast some quick healing on Anthoon who was pale from loss of blood. The sheet of blackness faded away into nothingness. The large broo that Permere and Leucas had fought lay dead on the ground; the rest were gone.

Permere warned the men to clean their injuries; wounds given by broo sometimes caused deadly sicknesses. Anthoon and Kosmas did so, but both felt queasy and cold with morbid anticipation. A deep chill flowed through their bones, then passed. They didn’t feel sick anymore. No more could be asked, for now.

Anthoon picked up his arm off the ground. He carried it to Permere and asked if there was anything that could be done up at the fort to restore it. Permere did not know. Anthoon cleaned off his arm as best he could and carried it in his other hand, wandering aimlessly around the battlefield as the other men finished healing one another.

They walked up the hill and got the mule again. Permere said something about trying to bring back the bodies; the rest of the group just looked at him like he was crazy, and he shook his head in resignation. Detouring around the killing ground, they resumed their hike to the north, stumbling, dazed.

It was four more hours before they saw the fort perched upon a distant hill. By the time they reached it, dark had started to fall. As they approached, a guard came out and challenged them from a distance. Permere shouted to him, saying who they were and that the escort had been ambushed and killed. The guard said he would send out a group to bring them in, and turned his back on them.

The Group was escorted into the fort, the wooden gates barred shut behind them. They stood in the courtyard and waited. The fort seemed clean and orderly. A man in an officer’s uniform came out and regarded the group. Permere acknowledged him as Lieutenant Orios, saluted, and stood at attention.

Orios’s voice was a growl. He began to ask Permere questions. Where was the escort? What happened on the battlefield? Where were the rest of the recruits? Where were the supplies? Permere stammered out answers as best he could, but Orios only became more angry. Those supplies were important, why were they abandoned? Why didn’t they bring back the bodies? He called Permere stupid, incompetent, and cowardly as he worked himself into a rage. He declared that the group would go out immediately and not return to the fort without the bodies from the battlefield and the supplies from the coast. They would leave now, immediately.

Permere looked around him, stunned. A few soldiers were watching the drama covertly as they pretended to do other tasks, but no one would meet his eye. The Group stood mute, helpless, exhausted. Anthoon cradled his severed arm next to his chest. Permere tried to remonstrate with Orios and was only shouted at again. However, after Permere mentioned his appointment with Captain Stamath at the central fort, Orios was persuaded to speak with him privately for a moment. When Permere returned, he said they would sleep at the fort that night and go retrieve the bodies the next day.

Anthoon walked up to soldier and asked if anyone had healing that could restore his arm. The soldier looked at him and said no. When Anthoon asked what he should do with it, the soldier told him to go outside the fort and bury it, and brought Anthoon a shovel. Anthoon and the rest of the group went outside. Together they buried his arm.

When they returned to the fort, they were instructed to go to the mess tent and eat. No one else was eating, and no one spoke to them as they passed. As they were finishing up, a sergeant came and led them to the barracks, giving them some cots in the corner. They asked about washing up. The sergeant took them an area near the well and suggested they go directly back to their cots after they were clean, as they would be getting up early in the morning.

The Group took his advice, and slept the sleep of the dead.

It was well before dawn when they were awoken. Quietly, they assembled their gear and were hustled to the gates. The mule from the day before was waiting for them. The skies were clear and the moon shone brightly. They looked out the gates and walked out into the night.

Permere was obviously nervous about being out in the dark, but they made it to dawn without any trouble. As the day’s light crept out, Permere realized he had steered them a bit wrong. Some time had been lost. He got them back on track and it was late morning when they reached the battleground.

Along the way they had discussed whether or not the cart could be repaired. Laos and Permere fumbled around with the wreckage and quickly gave up; Leucas sat down patiently and, one small bit at a time, managed to restore the cart to working if rickety order. Together they loaded up bodies and a bag full of weapons and armor the broo had apparently collected. (There was a dagger made of black metal that Permere confirmed was iron; Laos studied it for a long time before returning it to the bag.) There were five bodies on the field, but Leucas insisted they load no more than three on the cart. “What are we going to do with the rest?” asked Permere. No one had a better idea than leaving them where they lay.

As they started to head back, each man again began to feel ill. Most of the group soon felt better, but this time Anthoon and Permere did not. Though they did not feel cold, they began to shiver. They were still able to walk, but their actions felt clumsy and uncertain. There was no doubt, they were sick, but there was nothing to do but press on and hope someone at the fort could aid them.

The cart broke down several times on the way back, causing a delay each time. They were perhaps half way to “home” when a couple of figures appeared on a nearby hilltop: riders, but not horse riders. The men rode large, bipedal lizards. The group stopped and fearfully waited for more nomads to appear. Permere wanted to prepare for battle, but the rest of the group talked him out of it, arguing that any aggressive move might provoke a battle they could not afford. Instead, the group just watched the two riders, who watched them in return. After a few moments, the nomads turned their lizard-mounts and rode away. The group tried to pick up the pace as they proceeded on toward the fort.

They arrived perhaps an hour before dusk. They were admitted without ceremony. Watching the uncontrolled shivering of Permere and Anthoon, the sergeant from before hustled them into a corner of the fort and told them to wait. He returned with two women. Women? In a military fort? The sergeant did not explain, but asked the women to help the sick men, if they could. The women traced runes upon the foreheads of the men, chanted under their breath, and concentrated fiercely. A moment later Anthoon and Permere felt the illness leave their bodies, though some residual tremors remained. The women looked at the men and the sergeant with concern. “Nobody had better get sick again,” the older one warned. The sergeant nodded, and walked the women back to the officer’s quarters.

When he returned, he told the recruits to go dig graves while Permere went to see Lt. Orios. The recruits agreed readily, and went outside. Anthoon, still quivering a bit, awkwardly wobbled his shovel in his left hand. “Kosmas, I’m having some problem here, do you think you could give me a hand?”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Kosmas grinned, dropped his shovel, and started clapping. Everyone smiled a little bit, and then they got to work. Anthoon nominated himself supervisor and provided helpful digging suggestions to the rest of the group.

As they dug, they could hear faint shouting over the fort wall. Leucas could pick out the occasional word: “ . . . FOOLS . . . SUPPLIES . . . OTHER . . . SUPPLIES . . . TOMORROW . . . ” No one was surprised when Permere came out with a haggard look and explained they would be going back out the next day to get the other bodies and the original supply delivery.

The next day was much like the one before, an early rise with the same mule and the same cart, and the same long pre-dawn trek. Someone from the fort had fixed up their cart a bit, but the group still struggled with it. By the time they got to the battleground, it was midmorning. Hyenas scattered from the remains of the corpses as they approached. The Group had learned a lesson from the day before: Leucas and Laos sacrificed their cloaks to bundle up the bodies (what was left of them), and managed to get them loaded without actually touching them. The bodies of the broo, and the leftover weapons and gear, they left on the field.

Permere heaved a deep sigh and said they had better get going quick if they were to pick up the supplies and get back to the fort by dark. The group looked at each other; Leucas ran a quick calculation. There was no way they were going to get the supplies and get back before nightfall. A discussion was held, with Permere arguing for going after the supplies, and trying their best to get back as quickly as possible. He really didn’t want to go back empty handed. On the other hand, he didn’t want to get caught out at night. But they had to choose one or the other. Somehow they settled on going after the supplies. With a sense of helplessness, the group headed south.

Fortunately for them, Permere was at least a pretty good navigator. By midafternoon, they could see the ocean from the tops of the taller hills. Soon after they heard the ocean and rounded the curve of the last hill, looking down upon their anchor point and their cache of supplies.

Several lizard riders looked back at them. Some of the goods were clearly missing; all of the bundles had been opened and sorted through. Nomads were loading more supplies into packs and onto the lizards. As the two groups stared at each other, our heroes counted; there were six riders and their lizards. Both groups waited to see what the others would do.

After a long moment, a couple of the lizard riders looked at each other, and raised up their spears, shaking them. A couple more joined in. One started shouting, “Go away! You go away! Go away!”

The group looked at each other, and at the six riders. They said nothing, but turned their cart around and went away.

It was a long time before anyone talked. Sometime later someone observed that if they were going to get the supplies anyway, they might as well have gotten the bodies on the way back, rather than carrying them back and forth. No one was encouraged by this insight. They watched the sun descend to their left as the hours and miles rolled by. As they day started to get dim, they agreed to make camp on the east side of the mountain just north of the battlefield. An hour later, they did so. Everyone agreed not to start a fire. They set watches, all of them wondering if they would see the morning.

They did. Apart from some strange birdlike cries, and once the faint laughter of hyenas in the far distance, nothing happened in the night. Leucas had the last watch, and sat for a few minutes watching the sun rise before waking the others.

They loaded up and continued on their way. About ten in the morning, they saw the fort. Shortly after, a couple of soldiers came out to escort them in. One of them started asking questions about the supplies. Permere sighed and said, “Just take me to the captain. These guys will dig graves.” The group looked at him gratefully and went around to the familiar site on the north side of the fort. Soon they heard Orios shouting, again.

“Permere said he was going to leave and report to Captain Stamath soon, didn’t he?” asked Laos. Leucas and Anthoon nodded. “Oh,” Laos said.

Bastard Permere:

Our heroes decided there was no need for hurry in digging the graves. It was most of an hour later when they had finished, and they waited around for instructions outside rather than heading in where all the yelling had been going on. They didn’t wait long before Permere came out and told them they were to come inside.

Once inside, they found themselves facing most of the fort, assembled, with cold and hostile looks on their faces. Lieutenant Orios spoke:

“Where’s the bracer and the crystal?”

The Group, of course, could only guess at what he was talking about. Orios went on to accuse them of having stolen valuables from the dead bodies. The Group denied these thefts, not least because of their actual innocence, but the soldiers were not convinced. Their packs were taken and searched. Nothing was found, though Laos got some questioning over his stash of silver coins. The group was then stripped and their clothes searched. Again, nothing was discovered. Orios warned them that they would have hanged if they had been found to have robbed their comrades, and dismissed the soldiers back to their duties.

One soldier stayed behind, identifying himself as Sergeant Spryos. He spoke civilly to the recruits, saying he would show them around and assign them some work for the day. He walked them around the fort, giving them a quick tour which concluded at the animal pens. No one was surprised when he set them to cleaning. The group looked at each other; if they wanted to shovel goat poop, they could have stayed on Colchis. Without much enthusiasm, they got to work.

They were called to lunch an hour later. For the first time, they ate in the mess tent at the same time as the other soldiers. Progress of a sort. Permere joined them, appearing from wherever he had disappeared to. The Group was off at a table by themselves, mostly ignored by the other soldiers. However, as the meal was ending, a soldier from a different table came over and spoke with them briefly, wanting to know about the battles they had fought. The group was used to acclaim for their tale of tiger trapping, but this man seemed only interested in the battles themselves. When he found out they had never actually fought other men, he excused himself and went back to his strange, cross-wearing friends.

Our heroes got up themselves and went back to the chicken coop, where they worked the rest of the day. This was interrupted for a few minutes by an unpleasant interlude. A soldier had brought in Orios’s horse, and, hurrying to get back to his other duties, forgot to brush the horse down. The unfortunate wretch was stripped--showing several scars already on his back--and tied to the whipping post in the courtyard. Sergeant Spryos wielded the whip. Three lashes might not sound like much, but the soldier pissed and shit himself on the first stroke, and fainted completely at the second. All the other soldiers stood with stony faces as he was revived with a bucket of water, and the third lash was delivered. As they went back to the chicken coop, the young men looked at one another--what had they gotten themselves into?

Again, our heroes joined the rest of the fort for supper. Halfway through the bland meal, Lieutenant Orios stepped into the tent and announced that the new guys (this meant Our Heroes) needed a sergeant. He called one Sostratos up to stand with him and pinned a badge to Sostratos’s shoulder, then left. Sostratos stopped by the Group’s table to introduce himself and get the names of his new subordinates. Then he returned to his table and finished his meal with his mates.

After eating, it seemed the soldiers had some free time. Some played dice in the mess tent, but Kosmas and Anthoon were most interested in the musicians out in the courtyard. Alas, the musicians suggested the Group practice elsewhere, and so our heroes relocated to an unoccupied corner of the fort, plunking and tooting out some weary notes before turning in to the shelter to sleep. They were awakened briefly in the night by a scream. Someone cried out, “I dreamed I was being whipped!” then fell silent. Nothing more was said, and the group soon returned to their slumber.

The next morning, Sostratos woke them a bit before dawn, taking them to the storage building. The next few minutes were spent teaching the group how to sharpen weapons, and the group was set to putting a finer edge on the old bronze implements that were kept in reserve. Anthoon remarked that it was better than shoveling animal dung; Kosmas noted that this was the sort of thing that might get them punished if they did it badly, and everyone was quiet for a while after that.

They were down to the last few spear points when Sostratos was summoned away. When he returned, he told them to accompany him to the front of the fort. The other men were already gathered there, along with Orios and the two women healers (Leusa and Thoe). Orios announced that Sostratos, his squad, and Lieutenant Permere would be escorting the healers back to their town of Mylessos, and returning with some supplies to make up for the ones that were lost. There was some subdued grumbling from the other men at the new guys getting this plum assignment. Amidst the grumbling, one man spoke up boldly: “Goodbye, Leusa,” watching her closely--she nodded back at him briefly. Orios ignored this breach of discipline, dismissing the men, who went back to their work, but not without a dirty look or two being thrown over a shoulder as they walked away.

Sostratos told the group to move quickly getting their gear, but to nevertheless take a moment and grab any needed weapons or armor from the storeroom before regrouping. Fortunately, they’d been in the storeroom all morning and knew what it had to offer, so a few choice improvements were made before they all gathered at the gates and headed out into the Wastes.

Though outside was a dangerous place, the Group felt relieved to be leaving the fort and its bloody whipping post behind them. They watched carefully all around them, ready for any sneaking ambushers--at least for a while. As they headed east and the hours and miles went by, everyone got tired, and had sore feet, and the sharp vigilance did fade somewhat. Sostratos spent some time talking to Leusa (the pretty one) about the opportunities for learning healing in Mylessos; apparently he had a girl who might be moving there soon. Leusa later came over to Anthoon and spent some time talking with him; she seemed concerned that the loss of an arm might have seriously injured his spirit as well. She explained that there was powerful magic that might restore his arm at some point, though there were many who sought this restoration and only a few could be healed. She also made it clear that she thought the loss of an arm need not make him any less brave or heroic, and she was sure he was both. Anthoon thanked her for her concern, and then a silence hung in the air. Leusa awkwardly said goodbye and went back over to keep stride with Thoe.

Lunch came and went without incident, and a couple of rest stops excepted, the rest of the afternoon went safely as well. It was late in the day when they came over a hill and into sight of the walled town. Everyone breathed easier as they approached the river that ran along the west side of the city. It was by far the biggest city the young men from Colchis had ever seen; Thoe said that at least a thousand people lived there. Despite themselves, the group felt a bit awed and nervous as they approached.

They crossed the river on a conveniently placed ferry (after Sostratos forcefully negotiated a reasonable price for the trip) and entered the gates. Sostratos told the guards that he knew where the in-town campsite was; they warned him that there were some riders already camped there, and there wasn’t going to be any trouble, now, was there? Sostratos agreed, though he warned the guards that one day they’d regret their town’s permissive attitude toward the riders.

They entered Mylessos, the feel of cobblestones strange under their feet. Leusa and Thoe guided the group to the Chalana Arroy temple, and asked them to wait a moment to meet the priestess Anthippa. This notable lady soon appeared, mature but still comely, dressed in a white gown with white flowing hair. Leusa bowed to her, and immediately asked that Anthoon be put “on the list” for having his arm restored. Anthippa agreed, grinning broadly at Anthoon, warning him that it would be several months at best before he might hope to be considered for restoration. She then made a lewd comment about what Anthoon and Leusa might still be capable of doing in the meantime. Anthoon went pink and the group looked at each other in surprise. Anthippa cackled at their obvious discomfort, thanked them again, and wished them luck fighting “those chaotic pieces of shit out there.” The group, stunned, started to take their leave, but before they left Leusa did ask Anthoon to come see her if he was back in town again. As they were leaving, Kosmas and Leucas watched Anthoon with new respect.

The sun was setting as the group made their way to the campsite inside the walls. As promised, there were four nomads there, with a few bundles of goods beside them. Kosmas and Laos speculated that these might have been the same nomads that stole their supply shipment, coming to town to sell the goods. However, they could not be sure--there were no riding animals present, so they couldn’t even be sure these were lizard riders, much less the same ones from before. They had no idea what goods had been taken. Having no proof, they held their peace.

After they made camp, Sostratos announced he was going out for a bit, and asked Permere if they were going to stay in the camp. Permere agreed, and the Group played music and sang for an hour or so before turning in to bed. Kosmas was still awake when Sostratos returned, smelling faintly of wine.

The next morning, they awoke and broke camp. Sostratos mentioned that they were expect back by late afternoon at the fort; they would have to get their supplies and leave soon. They walked down the main road through town as the shops and temples opened up. Sostratos stopped at a particular shop where they would get the supplies and a new mule. Permere muttered something to Sostratos and wandered off on his own.

The list of supplies to be gotten was not precisely in stock, and Sostratos and the shopkeeper argued a bit about what substitutions were acceptable. After a while, they came to an agreement and our heroes started loading up the new mule and cart with bags of grain and beans. There was enough room for their packs as well, so they’d have an easier trip back too. Once loaded, they stood around outside the shop and waited for Permere to return, listening to Sostratos grumble about the delay.

As they were waiting, a figure rode up on horseback and halted before them. It was Permere! Where did he get a horse from? Kosmas started to ask Permere, but Permere interrupted him.

“I am leaving now. I will ride to the central fort and meet Captain Stamath as I originally planned. Fare you well.”

This didn’t *seem* like Permere. What happened to the guy who was always asking the new recruits what he should do? Sostratos didn’t seem worried about that, though. He got red in the face and started telling Permere to get off the horse and stop this nonsense. An argument ensued, but Permere held his ground. He was the ranking officer, he was not deserting but completing his original mission, he would take his chances riding alone through the Wastes, and if the group got in trouble because he didn’t return, well, that was not his fault.

Sostratos, however, was not persuaded. He grabbed at Permere’s reins and ordered the group to assist him. The group argued with one another. Kosmas said they should all go with Permere. Anthoon insisted that Permere was in the right. Laos wanted to stop Permere from running away. Sostratos and Permere just shouted louder. Finally Kosmas and Laos broke the standstill and went around to help Sostratos subdue Permere. Sostratos was dragging Permere out of the saddle when a city guard came up, followed soon by another one.

A brief discussion took place; the guards took Permere’s side. Reluctantly, Sostratos turned loose of Permere, who rode off toward the gates. The guards went their own way, proud at having served out justice. Sostratos said that if the group didn’t want the whipping post, they’d find a way to get Permere back to the fort. He said they might be able to ambush Permere outside the gates if they hurried. Anthoon stayed behind with the mule; the other three went with Permere, moving along the road where Permere had left, trying their best to be inconspicuous.

They caught up with Permere outside the gates, on the ferry. Another struggle commenced. The ferryman jumped off the platform and started yelling. Somehow, Permere and his horse managed to stay on the platform during the struggle until a couple of guards--not the same ones from before--came down to settle the trouble. These were stout and resolute fellows. Sizing up the situation, the guards decided to let Permere go. They briskly moved the others off the ferry, one at a time. The group watched as Permere was slowly drawn over the river, disembarked, and rode off to the north.

They headed back through town to Anthoon and the mule. Sostratos was silent, but clearly furious. He dragged the mule forward and the rest of the group followed him. Without a word, they headed out of town and back out into the Wastes.

They had traveled in silence for perhaps two hours when Leucas spied a couple of lizard riders watching them from atop a hill. The riders wheeled around and headed south. Kosmas and Laos pointed out that the lizard riders had never been aggressive before, and were probably no threat, but Sostratos insisted they prepare for battle. They continued on. Moments passed, then minutes. After about twenty minutes, Sostratos told them to unstring their bows and proceed normally. Nothing untoward happened, and about noon they paused to have lunch.

It was just as they were finishing lunch that they saw four figures come around a bend of a hill. These were riders, but not lizard riders. The four were riding small deer (Sostratos called them impalas), and the riders were themselves small--small men, as the group later found out.

They hailed the group and told them they could give up the mule and supplies and would not be harmed. Sostratos scarcely acknowledged the threat, but only told the group to prepare for battle. A moment later, Kosmas answered them with a shot from his longbow, which demonstrated impressive range, if not very good accuracy.

As the huge arrow went past them, the riders abandoned talk and began to ride their mounts rapidly back and forth, shooting arrows at the group, staying outside the range of hostile spells. However, the riders were not the only ones with bows, and it appeared the young men were their superiors in this regard. Only a few arrows had been launched before two of the pygmy warriors had been wounded, and a moment later Kosmas launched a missile that struck the leader perfectly under the breastbone. He fell slack from his mount and tumbled along the ground. One of his comrades braved a hail of arrows to attend to him, but quickly gave up and rode after the other two, already fleeing.

Our heroes approached the body, somewhat cautiously. It was indeed a small man, quite dead. Rifling his corpse, a few silver pieces were found and shared around, and a dagger decorated with a few jewels was tossed on the cart; they’d figure out what to do with that later. They also stripped the fellow of his armor, not that it was likely to fit anyone at the fort, but perhaps someone could make some other use of it.

After the fight, Sostratos breathed a little easier, and there was even some light conversation on the way back. However, as they got closer to the fort, Sostratos grew quiet. As the fort came into view, everyone got silent. As they entered, the guard asked where “the other guy” was, and Sostratos just shook his head. He told the group where to unload the cart, and went to see Orios.

It was not long after that the group was told to meet in the courtyard. Uh oh. Orios came out and delivered a lecture about discipline and loyalty to one’s comrades. He said that perhaps the new recruits did not understand these things, and that they must sometimes be enforced. Now, apparently, was the time to teach them.

One by one, the group was tied to the whipping post and whipped. Three lashes. One by one they bit back screams, voided their bowels, and finally staggered away from the post. Sostratos, too, was whipped. When it was finished, they were generously afforded the remainder of the day to recover, but they were warned that magical healing would only result in a new whipping. They limped back to their cots and lay face down, saying nothing. Kosmas turned to face Laos, thinking of a joke to lighten the mood. But the words dried in his mouth, and Kosmas said nothing: he was looking at a man with murder in his eyes.

No Rest For The Weary:

The wounds from the whipping healed faster than the anger. Over the next few days, the group worked around the fort, learning their duties as their backs slowly healed. Much of the work was dirty and nasty, and most of the rest was just boring: standing watch on the tower was exciting for the first hour or so, and then it was just an exercise in trying to seem alert in case Orios passed by. One day, someone was whipped for breaking a pot while helping the cook. It rained.

At one point, the Group did get a chance to go out on a half-day patrol with Sostratos. They found nothing but some old tracks from the lizard riders, but it was better than hanging around the fort washing dishes.

It was perhaps four days after the Group’s whipping that riders on horseback from Fort Central arrived. They walked around the fort freely, and assumed an air of command that no one ever challenged. They stayed a couple of days, talking to Orios and the other soldiers. The Group believed they were there to investigate the fort, perhaps because of Permere’s report.

Twice, one or two of the Group found themselves in conversation with the riders. After talking with one another, they found the conversation went similarly both times. Would you like to leave the fort and transfer to Central? (Hell yes.) You know, if anything suspicious was to happen around here, there would be an investigation, and we have heap big magic to get right to the truth. Depending on what actually happened, some people could swing at the end of a rope. Can’t imagine this would be an issue, not even sure why I mentioned it, but probably good for you to know anyway. Nice meeting you guys!

The morning the riders left, the Group gathered their gear, preparing to go out on patrol. At the last minute, they were informed that they would be staying at the fort and Michodo’s squad would take the patrol instead. This was an uncomfortable development--why the sudden change?

The answer soon became clear. Orios stalked around the fort fuming, watching intently as the group cleaned or stood watches. It was not long before he had found some meaningless fault with Anthoon and Laos, and sent them into the courtyard. However, Laos had had enough. As the other soldiers assembled to watch the whipping, Laos began to shout. He called Orios a tyrant, a coward, a perpetrator of injustice who wouldn’t get away with it forever. Orios watched the tirade, a faint smirk playing on his face. He cut in when Anthoon managed to mash his left arm into Laos’s mouth for a moment.

“Very well, five lashes for you. Would you like to make it seven?”

Seven lashes could quite possibly be fatal. Laos looked around him briefly, saw Sostratos mouthing “shut up” at him, and shut up.

The whippings were brief and fierce. Anthoon managed to walk away from the post afterward. Laos, amazingly, kept his continence and his silence through all five lashes, but on the fifth lash, he collapsed completely. He could not be revived, though he was still breathing. Anthoon watched him for an hour after they had been delivered to their cots, and decided he would probably live.

As usual, Orios returned to his quarters after the whipping. No one saw him again that day, and the group finished their work for the day and ate supper. No one felt like playing music that night. As they sat around talking, Sostratos informed them that they would be going out on patrol the next day, unless of course Orios changed his mind again. Everyone looked at Laos, still breathing raggedly on his cot. Sostratos said Laos would stay behind.

They did leave for patrol the next morning, this time a full day patrol. The skies threatened rain, but while they were out, there was no more than a speckling. Kosmas noticed some large, foul animal spoor. Sostratos said he was not sure, but thought it might be scat from night hyenas--vicious, oversized hyenas they were fortunately not likely to encounter during the day. They noted the tracks were heading into Troizen territory and out of the wastes, but could not tell how old they were. They continued on, and the rest of their patrol passed without incident.

When they got back to the fort, Orios immediately demanded that Anthoon bare his back, checking to see if he had healed himself. He had not, and so escaped a second whipping. Later they found out that Laos had recovered consciousness while they were out, and had passed a similar test from Orios. The group was happy to see Laos hobbling about, and sat that night playing a bit of music before going to bed.

The next two days the group did their routine work around the fort, and each night a couple of the young men stood watch on the guard towers. When they got to chatting with one another after the watches, they found that three of them had been approached by other soldiers, and quizzed about what they would do if there was a mutiny. The word “mutiny” was never spoken, but the message was clear. Anthoon and Kosmas said much the same thing--they had told their interrogators they would not participate in a mutiny, that they didn’t want to hang. Laos said he took a neutral position with the man who questioned him, committing to nothing.

It was some time later that the group realized that Anthoon and Kosmas had been approached by the Humakt (Michodo’s squad), while Laos had been collared by someone from Nikostas’s squad.

The day after Kosmas and Anthoon stood their watches, the Group was sent out on patrol again. The weather had cleared, and apart from the odd patch of mud, the travel was pleasant. The cool breeze foretold the coming of winter, however. As the group headed out, they found several tracks in the mud of people walking, some booted and some barefoot. Sostratos guessed that these were probably broo tracks. No one could tell how old the tracks were, but everyone walked a bit more on their guard.

It was on their return trip that they were accosted, but not by broo. A band of impala riders came around a curve of a hill and stared at them. Both groups prepared for battle, but at the first arcing longbow shot from Kosmas, the riders fled. The group grinned at each other; it seemed word of their previous battle had gotten around.

They returned safely to the fort a bit before dark and let Sostratos pass on the word of the broo tracks to Orios. No shouting ensued, and Sostratos came back to the mess tent with a calm expression. Relieved, the group had a relaxed evening and slept relatively comfortably.

The next day, the group was back to dull chores. It was late in the day and Kosmas and Laos were manning the watch towers when two figures on foot staggered around a hill. They were men; Laos soon recognized them as part of Spryos’s patrol who had left earlier that day. Kosmas ran down to let them in as Laos kept watch.

The men, Astynoc and Alcibius, came inside. Alcibius had lost a hand; other freshly healed wounds were evident on both of them. They were helped to their cots and cleaned up. Astynoc told their story: they had stopped for lunch and were ambushed by broo. Six broo set upon the five soldiers. Though the soldiers fought fiercely, and slew two of their attackers, the battle turned against them by degrees, not least because one of the broo was an oversized monster swinging a great axe that cleaved through shield and bone alike. The two survivors barely escaped, and that only because their comrades had managed to cripple a couple of the remaining broo before they were themselves slain.

The mood that evening at supper was sober. Orios was furious, and glared angrily at the two survivors, but said nothing to them. He announced that Nikostas’s squad would journey south the next day to retrieve the bodies. There was only quiet conversation that night before those who were not on watch went to bed.

The next day the Group expected Orios to seek someone out for blame, and they were not disappointed. Fortunately, if not justly, the blame fell on a warrior from Michodo’s squad. The Group was on watch and did not leave their posts to attend to the whipping. They never found out what the man was supposed to have done.

Nikostas’s squad returned with the three bodies later that day. They had been stripped, mutilated, and decapitated. The squad could not find any of the heads. The bodies were lowered into the freshly dug graves and a funeral service was held. Orios spoke with sincerity and eloquence before returning back to his quarters. The remaining soldiers of the fort were quiet at suppertime, and those who were not on watch went to sleep as early as possible.

The group had not been up long the following morning before Sostratos informed them that they would be traveling that day, though he did not know where. An hour later he told them: some new recruits were being dropped at the old drop point, and The Group was going to escort them in. This was through the same territory where Spryos’s squad had been attacked, and indeed where the heroes themselves had been ambushed a few weeks prior. Kosmas groaned.

Then the news got worse. Apparently, the recruits were not to disembark at all unless an escort was present. Therefore, no chances would be taken on the escort being late. They would leave today, and stay the night at the drop point in order to ensure their presence when the ship arrived. If they still lived, of course.

At least this time they got to take the cart as they went out. They piled their gear onto the cart and set out, watching as alertly as they could. The hours ticked by and no broo swarmed over any hills at them, though at one point they did come upon tracks that were probably broo tracks. There was nothing to do but proceed on, though they tensed up as the approached the crest of each hill for a while.

About eight hours later they had reached the drop point, alive, and with a little light of day still left. Sostratos suggested they removed themselves a bit from the drop point, as it was by now fairly well known. They did so, traveling a half hour back into the hills and making camp. Anthoon announced he had an idea for defensive fortifications, and began gathering rocks. Half an hour later he announced he was done, gesturing grandly at the eight foot long, eight inch high barrier he had erected along one edge of the camp. Kosmas and Laos chuckled; Sostratos only shook his head. They ate and talked quietly for a while into the evening, huddling under their blankets against the chill night air. They did not make a fire.

It was about midnight that Laos saw something glinting off in the dark. Something green. He woke up Sostratos and asked him to check it out. Sostratos woke and looked around. They both saw the green glint more clearly. The glint was eyes, glowing green eyes, now rushing toward them. Sostratos shouted at the others to wake up. They started to wake, too slowly.

Laos and Sostratos stepped in front of their sleeping comrades and prepared to meet the charge of the monsters. There were three. They were big, doglike things with huge heads and jaws. And glowing green eyes.

One animal veered around Laos and headed straight for Anthoon, who was groggily getting to his feet. The creature was closing in, ready to tear off Anthoon’s leg, when Laos spun around with preternatural speed and stabbed his spear precisely into the beast’s scruffy ear. The monster fell to the ground, twitching.

Meanwhile, Sostratos was locked in struggle with another one of the beasts, and the third had circled around to attack Leucas. It looked bad for the unarmed and unarmored magician as the monster raced in to rip out his throat. But at the last instant, Leucas sprang sideways and rolled, ending up behind the confused creature.

There were still two fiends left, now facing Sostratos and Kosmas. Sostratos missed his attacker and got a savage bite on the arm, and Kosmas only just managed to leap back before a wild snap, barely saving his leg. Now, however, all the group was awake. Laos ran back around to the creature fighting Sostratos, and thrust his spear into its side. Anthoon picked up his own spear and managed to catch the remaining beast under the armpit as it tried another unlucky lunge. Both monsters continued to struggle feebly for a moment, but were quickly hacked down.

The group took a moment to heal Sostratos’s arm, and found it very difficult to heal, though he did regain its use after several healing spells. Sostratos explained that these were night hyenas, and those who survived their attacks found that their wounds did heal poorly. He congratulated the group on their victory, and then looked wearily around at the corpses lying on the ground. Something would have to be done about those before anybody got back to sleep.

What Price Victory?

Something turned out to be loading the corpses onto the cart and rolling them over to the next hill, then dumping them. This was difficult to do in the dark, and by the time they got back to their campsite, they had lost nearly an hour and a half. They picked up the watch where they had left off, and slept till morning without incident.

The ship was not expected until about ten in the morning. The Group was able to have a leisurely breakfast, and made it to the drop point in plenty of time. Then they sat down to wait. And wait. And wait. At one point the monotony was broken when a couple of lizard riders were sighted on a far hill. But they did not approach, and despite careful watching for a while afterward, they weren't seen again.

Ten in the morning came and went. The Group felt an odd sense of familiarity; this wasn't the first time they had waited at the drop point for someone who didn't show, though last time they were coming in on the boat. No one suggested they give up and go back to the fort, though. A little while later, the ship peeked out from around a bend, and the group watched as it approached, dropped anchor, and began to disgorge men and supplies.

The supplies were loaded onto the cart and a brief introduction was made between the two groups. There were five new men in all: Kypros, Iason, Vastaph, Proston, and Skiron. Once introductions were made, Anthoon stepped forward, raising the stump of his arm.

“Men, I don't know if they explained this to you, but there's a ritual all the new recruits have to go through. Someone has to sacrifice a limb. Last time it was me. Now it's one of you. Figure out who it's going to be.”

The new recruits glanced at each other. A couple of them chuckled uneasily.

“I'm serious. Someone's got to give up an arm.” He reached across with his left hand and drew his broadsword. “Let's get this over with.”

A couple of faces went pale and a couple of hands were reaching over to swordhilts when Sostratos spoke up. “Quit clowning around, Anthoon. You're scaring these guys. You guys, get ready to move, we're already late.”

Sostratos divided the group on either side of the cart and got the men moving. The Group watched with some amusement at the stern faces and determined step of some of the new guys. Most of the new men had weapons and armor; a couple had brought proper packs. One fellow, Kypros, had neither, only a red patterned shirt and a money pouch. He looked over the veterans and approached Laos.

“Hey, I thought we were going to get weapons and armor. It's not dangerous out here right now, is it?”

Laos said it might be.

“Oh. Well, I didn't bring anything, do you guys have some extras I could use? I thought they were going to give us equipment when we joined up!”

Laos gave him his shield and short sword, keeping his bow and spear. Kypros then proceeded to ask questions about where they were going, and what kind of training they were going to get, and how soon they would see combat, until Laos suggested that the first mark of a warrior was knowing how to keep silent when the enemy might hear you. Kypros was silent for three or four minutes before he came back and asked about his new sword and shield. But he did ask in a whisper.

Some of the other new guys tried to talk to Kosmas and Leucas, but neither man felt like chatting about life on the frontier. There was only so much you could explain with talk, and life at Fort South went quite a bit past that.

They walked for a couple of hours, then stopped for a few minutes to rest. Sostratos mentioned to The Group that he didn't want to take the time to stop for lunch proper. No one was going to die from skipping a meal. None of the new soldiers complained.

They returned to the march and the miles crept by. It was about three in the afternoon when Sostratos thought he saw something up on a hilltop. He warned the Group, who helped him keep lookout. Anthoon watched a small silhouette poke up, then go back down below the edge of the hill.

“Sergeant, I think we're going to be attacked.”

As Sostratos shouted orders at the men, getting them ready for combat, the small figure came into full view. It stumped along rapidly on a peg leg, and the group heard a voice, faint, over the wind:

“Eeeeeeaaaaaattttt myyyy sssshiiiiittttt!”

As the little broo shouted at them, other broo came up over the hilltop to stand and regard the group. Our heroes recognized Eat My Shit and the deer-headed sorcerer from their previous battle. There were two more broo carrying bows, a tall one and a shorter one, that the group had not seen before. And finally there was a fearsome ram-headed monster, eight feet tall, kite shield hanging in one hand, a giant axe swinging idly back and forth in the other. The group realized this must be the creature who destroyed Spryos's patrol a few days earlier.

The five broo stared at the ten men. The giant one carrying the axe rumbled something to his fellows. While Laos and Kosmas were stringing their bows, the broo turned and disappeared back down the other side of the hill.

Sostratos and the Group looked at each other. “All the more reason for us to get back before dark,” said Sostratos. “But why don't three of you run up over that hill and see what's ahead. If there's anything bad, don't stay to fight, just run back yelling.”

Kosmas, Laos and Anthoon did that. There was nothing ahead, and the cart and caravan moved slowly forward. Everyone looked from side to side as they proceeded. One of the new guys asked if they shouldn't go fight those things, and was told to shut up. They proceeded on for five minutes, ten, then fifteen, and nothing happened. The men started to relax.

Kypros had edged his way over to Laos and opened his mouth to ask another question when he was interrupted by screaming. Two of the recruits at the back of the caravan were stumbling forward, arrows sticking out of them. On the hill behind them were the broo. The two broo archers were already fitting another arrow to their bows while Eat My Shit gibbered and spun around on his pegleg. The giant and the sorceror simply watched.

However, this time the men had archers of their own. Laos already had his bow strung. He turned about, muttering some words under his breath. In one smooth movement he drew and fired. The arrow sped up onto the hilltop and speared the sorcerer-broo perfectly in the eye. The creature threw up his arms, gave a gargling scream, and fell twitching onto his back.

Sostratos and Kosmas shot off their own arrows as quickly as they could; the two broo with bows returned fire. The oversized broo knelt next to the sorcerer and ignored the arrows falling around him. A couple arrows glanced off his armor; meanwhile one of the men took a flesh wound in the leg as he ran behind the cart for cover. Neither side was able to score any more solid hits.

The axe-wielder shouted at one of the archers, who ran back to the fallen sorcerer. Now there was only one broo archer, while the men had three. No, two--Kosmas tried to dodge an arrow, took it in the arm, and managed to fall on his face as well. The other two men kept shooting and missing. They had only fired a couple more arrows when the sorcerer-broo sat back up. Then stood up. The giant broo gave another gravelly command, and the broo retreated together back over the hill, the last two arrows from the men flying harmlessly over their shoulders.

Laos cursed. The men watched for a minute, ready for a new attack. Nothing happened. Sostratos told a few of the men to keep watch, while the other men healed one another. This proved to be a bumbling process. The puncture wounds could not be cleaned very well. Many of the men knew some healing magic, but most were less than adept at casting it. One would-be healer laid his hands upon Kosmas's arm, cried out, and collapsed in a faint of his own. Eventually, though, all the men were healed, and if a couple of the wounded complained of chills, there was nothing to be done about that on the field.

Posting some men to keep watch, Sostratos decided to take a moment to set up a defensive plan in case they were attacked again. Anthoon questioned the wasted time, given that the plan was little more than “hide behind the cart”, but Sostratos insisted. Once the plan had been drilled a time or two, the group proceeded on, trying to watch the hills a bit more closely than before.

Kosmas looked at Laos. “Didn't I see that broo on the end shoot two arrows at once?” Laos nodded. “Yeah, he was doing some kind of magic to make that happen.” “I'd really like to get some of that myself.” “Oh yeah.”

It was most of an hour before the next attack came. This time, the broo attacked from the side, again popping up over the top of a hill. Only the two archers were visible. (Anthoon, alone of all the men, stood behind the cart and carefully watched the hill on the opposite side.) The men had their bows ready and returned fire. A few ineffective shots were exchanged, then one of the broo was struck in the leg, and they retreated back over the hill.

The men pressed on. A similar ambush took place several minutes later, again with the broo eventually retreating. After another hour, it happened again. Each time, most of the men hid behind the cart while the archers returned fire. Sometimes one of the men would get hit by a lucky shot. The wounds were quickly healed, but bit by bit the men's magical reserves were dwindling. Their only consolation was that the broo must be suffering from the same attrition. At least that is what they told one another.

During one of the attacks, Anthoon asked Sostratos if he thought they should try to rush and overwhelm the monsters, rather than wait to be whittled down a bit at a time. Sostratos gestured over at the recruits crouched behind the cart. “That big broo with the axe? You heard what he did to Spryos's patrol. I can't send these new guys up against that.” Anthoon nodded. That was hard to argue with. But later he would wonder what might have happened if they had seized the moment and charged.

The party continued to make progress, but the daylight was starting to fade. There was about an hour of light left when the broo attacked again, this time from the west, the sun shining behind them.

The men were running out of magic and light. This attack, it seemed they had run out of luck, too. The archer-broo were shooting at the men archers, trying to take them out. Almost immediately, Kosmas took an arrow through the leg which took him down. The arrows kept falling, and Laos and Sostratos were hit soon thereafter. Kosmas had been healed and ran back to face the enemy; Laos pulled the arrow and patched himself up enough to keep shooting, but was still bleeding. Sostratos was badly injured, an arrow stuck deep into the bone of his leg. He could not be healed, much less keep fighting. Anthoon shouted to the recruits, telling one of them to grab Sostratos's bow and quiver. One did, with shaking hands, and ran to the edge of the cart, drawing upon the goat-men as best he could. Other men huddled behind the cart, or ran back and forth between the wounded, or asked to be told what to do. Sostratos was screaming on the ground as he pounded the arrow through his leg with his shield. A man rushed over to try to heal him. Just as his hands touched Sostratos's leg, he shrieked, clapped his hands to his head, and fell over limp.

All of the broo had come up onto the hilltop, those without bows watching the battle. As the shriek echoed up the hill, the oversize broo shouted an order. The archers dropped their bows and drew their swords, and all five broo charged down the hill at the hapless party of men.

The monsters closed quickly. Kosmas and Laos managed to loose a couple more arrows as the broo raced forward, but the only accurate shot glanced off the armor the creature wore. The men had bunched up on either side of the cart, with the Group somehow all on one end and the new men all on the other. The leader of the broo swerved his band away from the Group and toward the confused and terrified recruits. The Group immediately started running around the cart toward the fighting. But as they ran, a wall of darkness slammed into place in front of them, cutting them off from the battle. They heard a horrible scream from one of the men, and Sostratos shouting, “Go around, go around!”

Kosmas and Laos realized they could run around the edge of the darkness, and did so, coming upon the battle behind the broo some seconds later. In desperation or in luck, the recruits had inflicted some casualties. The giant broo had been wounded in the leg, and was crawling around on the ground, swinging the great axe one handed. The sorcerer was up next to the wall of darkness and had also been knocked down, a recruit busily trying to stab him with a spear. Two men were down, but still moving, crawling backward away from that swinging axe. The other three broo were faced off against three men. As our heroes rounded the wall and ran forward, they saw the giant broo reach out and sweep his axe at one of the men still standing. The man fell to the ground, blood spraying from the stump of his leg.

The men ran forward to join the fray. They bore down upon the three broo still standing, flailing away with sword and spear. They dealt out wounds and took none; one of the archer-broo broke ranks and ran, pursued by Anthoon. A recruit speared the other one, and it died where it stood, gargling blood.

Eat My Shit screeched, and started stumping away from the field, chased by a recruit. Kosmas started moving toward the sorcerer on the ground, and Laos turned to face the axe-wielder, now crawling toward him, teeth bared, axe slicing the air in front of him.

The sorcerer broo looked at Kosmas approaching, hissed, and then rolled sideways—right through the wall of darkness. On the other side of the wall, Sostratos helplessly watched him appear, get to his feet, and run away.

Laos watched the monster crawl forward, axe waving. Wincing from his earlier wounds, Laos readied his spear, trying to time his lunge to miss the deadly pendulum blade. He thought he saw his moment. He stabbed. He missed. His spear stuck into the ground. The broo roared and swung his axe. He hit Laos just above the knee, cleaving the limb off cleanly. For a moment, Laos just clung to his spear and looked at where his leg had been. Then he fell to the ground like a stone.

Kosmas had turned back just in time to see this. Enraged, he ran over to the fiend and flailed away with his mace. The monster fell back before his fury, hacking back ineffectually. They flailed clumsily at each other for a moment. Then Kosmas smashed the monster in the arm, shattering it. The evil axe fell down, useless. Kosmas raised his mace, and as the creature looked up at him, brought it down again for the last time.

Kosmas ran to Laos, shouting his name. He saw the stump of Laos's leg, but the bleeding didn’t seem to be too bad. “Healing, we need healing here!” he yelled. He knelt down and turned Laos over onto his back, speaking words of encouragement. But as he saw Laos's face, he drew back in horror. Laos's head hung limp and his eyes rolled sightlessly in his head. It was too late.