The road was littered with rocks.

Instinctively he knew that they had simply fallen from the sides of the rocky defile which now faced them, but a part of him entertained the notion that perhaps they had fallen onto the roadbed when someone had scrambled up the cliffs to await their party...

"If we head to the north, there's always the possibility the moredhel will have more assassins waiting for us," Locklear said. "Do we risk it?"

YES:

Days passed.

Disliking the exposed feeling created by the defile, they moved quickly during the nights and left the days to resting under rocky overhangs and listening for assassins' footsteps. At last, foot sore and road weary, they emerged near the town of Zun.

The small house was abandoned.

James shook his head slowly, then turned and said, "I had hoped we might find the fisherman Chanty here, but he has apparently taken up residence elsewhere."

A man answered Owyn's's knock. His face was flushed and there were beads of sweat on his brow that threatened to race each other down his face at any moment. He was breathing heavily.

"You've come about them, haven't you?" he asked, wide eyed. "Well?"

After several long minutes of careful probing, Owyn was able to ascertain that the man believed he had released some evil spirits from a couple of the local graveyards. The more he spoke of his dealings with the undead the more frightened he became, until at last, shivering violently, he closed the door and retreated back into the relative safety of his house.

WARNING!
The fiend beneath this stone is trapped by dirt, not by death. Stay away!

The lay of the goods store was comfortably familiar, arranged in such a common sense fashion that it took only a few moments for Locklear to locate the items which interested him.

Everywhere Locklear looked, polished metal gleamed. As much a temple to war as any Temple of Tith, the cramped shop offered a startling variety of weapons and armor.

Everywhere Locklear looked, polished metal gleamed. As much a temple to war as any Temple of Tith, the cramped shop offered a startling variety of weapons and armor.

Conversation within the room halted briefly as Locklear pushed his way inside the room, returning a nod from a rough looking pair of mercenaries who otherwise seemed engaged in a dispute over a lost bet.

The man didn't look happy.

"He don't talk much," called a voice from the other side of the tavern. "He's a pretty somber fellow. Folks call him Grimm 'cuz he never laughs or smiles." Another voice said, "He's pretty much a fixture here at Babon's. In fact, we often have a little fun with strangers. We'll give you 80 sovereigns if you can get Grimm here to laugh. Care to give it a try?"

YES:

James nodded. "Indeed we would like to give it a try," he said, then turning whispered, "Let's see...how are we going to get this fellow to laugh?"

[SPOON]

"I've got it," said Owyn. "This is a little trick I used to amuse my father with."

He squatted down in front of Grimm, tipped back his head and began to sing. As the words to the silly song tumbled from his mouth he carefully balanced a spoon across the bridge of his nose.

Grimm frowned.

[BAWDY]

"I'll try," said Gorath. He turned to Grimm and with a sly smile began a bawdy tale detailing a romantic tryst between a dwarf and an elf maiden. Glancing around the room with a mischievous smile Gorath reached the punch line, "'It just in'a gonna work, said the dwarf, 'What with me down here and you up there.'"

The end of the story brought stifled snorts and snickers from around the room, but Grimm simply nodded.

[SHIP]

James stepped forward.

"This little tale should knock him out of his chair. It was related to me by a Tsurani soldier. Seems one of their sailing ships was caught in a fierce storm that damaged the vessel so badly it began to take on water. There were rafts on board and most of the men got off safely, but it quickly became apparent to the captain that there were only three spots left and four of them still on the ship.

'I'm going to ask each of you a question,' he said. 'Answer correctly and you can join your mates on the raft.' Turning to the first man he asked, 'The Fire Storm sunk off what peninsula?'.'The Honshoni peninsula, sir.' The captain nodded and pushed the sailor toward the raft. Then he turned to the second man. 'How many were aboard that night?' Deep in thought the second sailor finally blurted, '154!' Again, the captain nodded, pushing the sailor toward the raft. Finally, with one eye on the rising water, he turned to third man. 'What were their names?' The joke over, Owyn looked at Grimm expectantly as loud guffaws filled the room and men doubled over and slapped their knees and lost ale through their noses.

Grimm yawned.

[CANCEL]

"The man's a rock," complained James. "I'm afraid we just can't do it."

[SUMANI]

Owyn looked thoughtful.

"Sumani told us a joke, does anyone remember it?" His question received nothing but blank stares. "Let's see if I can remember this story," he said to Grimm. "During the reign of the Hidjacumo - "

"Hidjucama," corrected Grimm.

"Yes. Well, the lords of the minor houses of the Omal...Omah...THREE MINOR LORDS, were summoned to the Holy City for an audience..."

"...be praised ! The Emperor shall love his new shoes!" finished Owyn, pleased he had remembered most of the tale. He turned to Grimm expectantly, but found not a hint of expression on the man's face. Owyn sighed in disgust, and was about to reach for his money pouch when he heard a snort, like a mad bull. He looked at Grimm. Then he looked around the room. Nothing...

"Well, I guess we - " Owyn began.

"SNORT!" The corners of Grimm's mouth began to quiver. Then his face turned red and his body began to shake uncontrollably. It was like watching a volcano about to explode.

"HA HA!" screamed Grimm. "Tha - tha - HA HA!" Tears began to clean crooked paths down the sides of his dirt streaked face, as he rolled forward and fell on the floor in spasms of uncontrollable laughter.

There was a moment of stunned silence, then one of the men spoke, "I don't believe it! Old Grimm's actually laughing!"

The man behind the bar produced 80 gold sovereigns. They took the money and left.

SUBSEQUENTLY:

Owyn spotted Grimm.

Glances were exchanged and Owyn began to call out to him but the man suddenly tipped back his head and began to roar with laughter! When he had at last calmed down a bit Owyn approached his table.

"Good day to - " Owyn began, but this brought another peal of laughter, and all soon realized that any further attempts at conversation would be futile.

"Come in! Come in!" chimed a courteous young woman in a brightly colored apron. She held the cottage door open. Kneeling in front of a stone fireplace a young man was placing several small logs into a crackling fire. The man looked up with a smile. "Yes, please! We just finished eating, but I had some luck fishing today so there's plenty to go around."

Locklear's nostrils flared as he welcomed the smell of the barbecued sea bass and fresh bread still lingering in the air. "Its a tempting offer, but I'm afraid we must be going," he said. A drink of fresh water will suffice."

"Of course. But won't you take some food with you then? I could have Loralyn prepare a small package for each of you - good for two days at least. She's quite a cook, you know."

There were stirrings inside the house.

After a short time a stout lad of about thirteen came to the door, opening it wide. "If you're looking for my brother, he's not here right now."

"Actually, no," Locklear replied. "Are your parents about?"

The boy paused for a heartbeat. "My folks were killed a year back. Mitch and I moved here several months ago to study swordplay with Tad Questor. We're gonna find the bloody brigands who did it and feed em their own hearts!"

Locklear was about to offer some fatherly advice about leaving such work to those older and more qualified, but seeing the boy's expression he decided against it. Instead he asked, "Is Tad good with a sword?"

"What, are you kidding? He's the GREATEST! Lives right over there." The boy motioned toward Tad's house, then excused himself, closing the door behind him.

Locklear knocked loudly. Presently a finely dressed man greeted them, as he spoke he wiped sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief, "Fine day, don't you think? I'm Tad Questor. Have you come for a lesson?" His eyebrows raised in a hopeful arch. "Lesson?" inquired Locklear. The man disappeared into his house and returned with a blunt tipped fencing foil. "Have you come to learn the finer arts of swordsmanship?" he asked, punctuating his question with several impressive maneuvers. "I could give you all a quick lesson for only 75 sovereigns. How does that sound?"

Locklear knocked on the door to Tad's house.

He greeted them with a smile. "Welcome back. Have you come about that lesson?"

Meet: FARMER ROWE

Meet: BROTHER MARC

Enter: SARTH

Enter: Temple of Sung

The air rippled.

As if the world about them were nothing more than a curtain to be yanked aside, four figures warped into existence before their very eyes, all moredhel and all armed. One of the assassins, dressed in finer wear than the three who flanked him, bared his teeth as he spoke.

"Gorath, lwychan choi nekkad sedu Delekhan! Baka'al eledhel!"

"Gorath?" Locklear glanced questioningly at his companion, watching as the moredhel withdrew his own weapon, his black gaze fixed on the others of his kind arrayed before them.

"Defend yourself," Gorath rasped coldly. "No moss trooper this, but a sorcerer. Nago. Of those that are said to have served Delekhan before the coming of the Six, he is known as the most powerful magician of my kin. Only we three or he and his will see the next morn..."

AFTER COMBAT:

Locklear paused before the large wooden barn.

The memories of combat still fresh in his mind, he pushed gently on the door and slipped into the quiet darkness. Finally convinced it was indeed empty he came out shaking his head, then motioned for them to leave.

LOCKLEAR: Though the circumstances might suggest otherwise, this didn't feel like a chance encounter.

OWYN: This is Rowe's barn, do you think he had something to do with this attack?

LOCKLEAR: I think that bastard farmer set us up. He'd best have been paid well for his betrayal. I'll take my recompense from his hide if I ever cross paths with him again.

Enter: Temple of Silban

The road was littered with rocks.

Instinctively he knew that they simply fallen from the sides of the rocky defile which now faced them, but a part of him entertained the notion that perhaps they had fallen onto the roadbed when someone had scrambled up the cliffs to await them.

"If we head to the north, there's always the possibility the moredhel will have more assassins waiting for us," Locklear said. "Do we risk it?"

YES:

Days passed.

Disliking the exposed feeling created by the defile, they moved quickly during the nights and left the days to resting under rocky overhangs and listening for assassins' footsteps. At last, foot sore and road weary, they emerged near the town of Hawk's Hollow.

Mist floated in the pass.

"This road leads to Loriel and LaMut to the west," Locklear said, "though I believe it also forks to the east and leads through the Dimwood forest. Which way do you think would be best?"

The passage was blocked.

"Let's move back the other way," Locklear said. "Looks as if this entrances is closed for good."

The door swung open.

"Good day to you fine sirs," said the man at the door. "My name is Franklin Hurley, how can I be of service to you?"

Owyn cleared his throat. "We were told at the Temple of Silban that you might want to see us."

"You've spoken to the priestesses?" he asked incredulously. "I wished to speak with them of next year's crops but three howling idiots wouldn't allow me to pass."

"You won't be having any more trouble with those three," said Locklear.

Franklin excitedly retreated into his house and returned a moment later with a pouch of coins that he demanded they take as a reward. Owyn tried to turn the money down, but the man insisted.

They thanked him for his kindness and generosity, then they left.

Except for a battle scarred mercenary who glanced up at them, the common room of the tavern was completely empty. Only the restless shuffle of feet on the boards over their heads indicated anyone else was in the building.

Meet: DEVON

Locklear stood motionless, waiting for a response. Seconds later a large, amply endowed woman came to the door, holding a small child on one hip.

"My husband still has chores to do. You just head on back over to The Stranger and maybe he'll join you when he's through."

Before he had a chance to reply the door slammed closed. On the other side Locklear could hear a man weakly protesting, "But Butterball I've never seen those men before." This was followed by a THWACK and a muffled shout. Then silence.

The door swung open and Locklear found himself staring into the wide eyes of a small boy. "Hello there, little guy. Is your Mom--"

A new figure appeared at the door, a young woman. She greeted the visitors and introduced herself as the boy disappeared behind the folds of her skirt. After a short but unenlightening talk she offered them some water.

Owyn bent down and waved goodbye as they prepared to leave, causing the boy to disappear into the house with an excited cry.

They were met at the door by a friendly couple.

James introduced himself and greetings were offered all around. He sat and traded stories for several minutes, then rose, "We really must be going. You have been very kind."

Thankful his key had worked, Owyn pushed the door open.

Inside they found a variety of objects, including an assortment of papers and ledgers, a writing table and a small bed. Stooping down to examine the papers more carefully, Owyn saw they were tax records of some kind. He also found several notes that had been signed: Stellan.

"Search this room carefully," commanded Owyn. "We may find something we can use."

Enter: KRONDOR

The road lead east.

Halting for a moment to ponder his options, Locklear stared off in the direction of the Kingdom's populated heartland. "We'll pass through Malac's Cross or Sethanon if we head this way. Think that's the best idea?"

YES:

The landscape flattened.

Slowly the hills and trees began to thin, far more sparse in the grassy midlands of the Kingdom.