Fork Island had been easier to find than I’d expected. It helped that Hendrix swiped a Dark Talon map without my knowledge during our stay in Firemane’s Run. We’d followed the river up until the point where an island jutted out through the center, creating a fork.

The island was less than a mile long and not very wide at all. We came to a bridge that led over one prong of the forks and crossed it. My eyes had been peeled for gnolls the entire time, but we hadn’t heard them or seen any sign. There was nothing but the same cacophony of forest noises we’d heard when we’d first arrived.

Fork Island's terrain was no different from the rest of the forest, save for the almost complete lack of undergrowth. There were many trails on the island, too. The signs of heavy use made me feel more at ease. The feeling lasted until I remembered the Sun-Touched’s story. Whoever had made these signs of activity were likely gone now.

A house crouched among a bunch of dark trunks near the center of the island. It wasn't easy to see, but it looked to be built by the same hay-like material as the rest of the raventaur buildings but reinforced with wood.

“I don’t know how a race that builds their houses out of kindling has been able to survive this long,” Hendrix said. “Oh well. Let’s get in there and find the kid. This should be an easy quest.”

I knocked on the wooden door. It creaked open. “Is anyone in there?”

Hendrix walked past me and pushed the door open. Surrounding trees blocked most of the light from spilling in, so the place stayed as dark as the Sun-Touched’s hall. Intense resin burned the inside of my nose as I took my first breath in the building. Piles of chopped logs lined what I could see of the walls. A few axes and saws lay strewn about the floor. Some chairs were on their backs, others simply ajar, and one of the tables had a corner crusted with dry blood.

“Gnolls bad, indeed,” Hendrix said in a somber voice.

“Who are you?” A faint voice came from the darkness. “Please. Just leave me alone.”

“We aren’t here to hurt you,” I said. “We were sent by the Sun-Touched to find you.”

“Sun-Touched?” I still couldn’t see him, but I heard him scuttle closer in the dark. “He’s alive?”

“The Dark Lady did not find Leafveil,” I said.

The raventaur child, who must’ve been Delrik, emerged from the darkness in a defensive posture. He looked up at us with untrusting eyes and held his wings out, ready to fly if need be. I put my hands up and approached him. Hendrix put an arm in front of me and shook his head.

“I need to go home,” Delrik said. “It was horrible. I was with an older cousin. He was teaching me the ways of the gatherer at my father’s request. Then the gnolls came. They tore everyone apart. Every worker who I’d come to know and love was ripped apart like a roast chicken.”

At first, the idea of raventaur eating chicken seemed strange to me, almost cannibalistic. But then I remembered eagles and other birds of prey hunted chickens, so why shouldn’t the raventaur?

“My cousin fought bravely,” Delrik said. “He held them off long enough and gave me time to hide. The gnolls ripped him apart and sniffed around for me for a while before giving up. I thought they were going to burn the place down, but I guess they want me alive.”

“We’ll bring you back to the Sun-Touched,” I said.

The child ignored me and left the building. We followed. He turned to the left and headed North — the direction opposite of Leafveil.

“Wait.” I caught up to him and tried to get his attention. “The Sun-Touched specifically asked us to bring you to him. I don’t think your father Covnek will be at home in Rootroost, and if he is, it isn’t safe for us to simply walk on in.”

My words had no effect as Delrik continued onward. Hendrix shrugged. “Looks like we’re going to Rootroost. Keep your eyes open for gnolls.”

We made it to the bridge that led over the other fork of the river and stopped half-way across. Bushes shook in the forest. The child halted and pointed in the commotion’s direction. “Activity ahead.”

I drew my wrench and positioned myself between the movement and the child. Hendrix stayed behind me, and I heard him equip his lute. The shaking in the bush stopped. No one moved on the bridge.

A tiny mouse jetted out from the bushes and zoomed away as if a monster was chasing it. It was. Two massive beasts thundered out from the bushes. They rolled around in a storm of claws, teeth, and fur. One was a white tiger, the other, a green wolf. They tore at each other’s pelts until something whistled in the woods.

The beasts stopped, calmed, and sat side by side, staring our way. The green wolf licked its chops. Drool dripped from its chin. The tiger stared at us, still as a statue with stoic eyes. The wolf watched us with its tongue hanging from its panting mouth, almost grinning. It seemed more playful than its feline companion but equally deadly.

“I told you that thing was too high a level to obey you,” a deep voice came from the bushes where the beasts had emerged.

“Hey, your cat wasn’t listening too well, either.” Another voice followed. This one was higher pitched and had a gurgling quality to it.

Two figures emerged and froze when they saw us. It was easy to see who both voices belonged to. One was a frog that stood on two legs, had two humanoid arms, and wore leather armor. His head was the same as a frog’s but with conscious life in his yellow eyes. He held a spear thrust before him, aimed at us.

The other was an olive-skinned elf, slender like all elves except for his broad, prominent chin. He wore a dark-green hood with holes cut out for his long ears. His arm shook as he held an arrow against his pulled bowstring.

“Who are you?” I asked. I lowered my wrench to appear less threatening but looked around the area to see what I could use to my advantage if the need came. There wasn’t much. I could maybe drop a few hard fruits on their heads if my throws were hard and accurate enough, but that was about it.

“I am Max,” the elf said. “This is my companion, Nikk.”

The frog bowed his head but kept his spear arm rigid.

“Rangers,” Hendrix said.

I relaxed. Adventurers weren’t going to cause us any problems, but their beasts…. “And them?” I pointed to the patient animals.

“The tiger there is mine,” Max said. “Her name is Buttons.”

“And that’s Scallion,” Nikk the toadkin said in a gurgled voice.

“We’ve introduced ourselves…” Max left the words hanging.

“I am Billington.”

“Hendrix,” the bard greeted then with a slight raise of his pointy chin.

“And what of him?” Max pointed to the young raventaur.

“Delrik. His cousin and friends were attacked by—”

Hendrix interrupted me. “Escort quest.”

“Splendid,” Max said. “We’ve just been sent from the Sun-Touched as well. Perhaps we can accompany you on your travels. The deep places of the forest may not seem as dark with a party of four.”

I exchanged a look with Hendrix. The bard grinned. There was no way of knowing what he was thinking, but I figured this would be a good chance to recruit for the guild. Even just making new friends was reason enough for me to accept the elf’s offer.

“Let’s get going.” Nikk ran a long tongue over both eyes and raced to the bridge. “Lots o’ ground to cover. Not much time to do it.”

“Forgive him,” Max said. “The fool is always in a rush.”

“A rush to get where?” Hendrix asked.

“Ambertop,” Max said.

“Our home will be beautiful,” Nikk sputtered and was a challenge to understand. The gurgling in his throat didn’t help matters much.

“Shall we proceed?” Max said.

“Very well.” I took one step forward, and the raventaur child sprung ahead.