Adnar’kerz 21

Fully healed again. If my timing is right, Torendrock should be finishing school today, so I’ll see him in another two days or so. But I’ve got a little something to do while I wait for him to arrive.

Keven and his group came back a few days ago, torn up badly but all still alive. They had decided to check out the fens, which according to the bulletin board is strictly off-limits for bounty hunters. It seems lizardmen were just too tough for a small group like them.

Well, I went and talked to Frowler about it. The edict was to prevent bounty hunters from getting slaughtered, which makes perfect sense. But I argued, and eventually convinced him, that asking for permission from the prefect was appropriate if they had a bounty hunter able and willing to take them on. I was certainly willing, so I only needed to convince them I was capable as well. It was partially political as well. Turns out a few years ago the keep had sent a massive force into the fens in an effort to wipe out the lizardmen and had been certain they’d succeeded.

I was given a pass to the upper bailey. The cavalry field is huge, larger than the middle and lower bailey combined. I didn’t get any further than the first floor of the fortress, but it was also very impressive and well guarded. The prefect himself, Bandrus Far’Raven, had a very somber air about him. He listened to my request, asked a few questions about what I’d been hunting, and that was when the odd thing happened.

I had just gotten done telling him how my path to the Mines of Chaos went through an older mine, as a cut-through of the mountain, when he got an alarmed look on his face. He quickly masked it but it didn’t matter. Because I had just gotten a notification.

Identify Gold Conspirators: 1 of 6 found

Bandrus Far’Raven (Keep Prefect)

Bonus - Identify Source of Gold

Mercy’s Fortune Mine

I had a better poker face I guess. He approved the request right after. Very sus.

What else… ah, Brigitte returned last night. Very cheerful, no idea why. Not interested in wading through the fen with me, but asked me to let her know if I wanted help with traps again. I’m thinking when I finally figure out which cave the kobolds are in, that’s when I’ll really want her help.

Oh, almost forgot. [Treasure: +2397 E.P.] I may have been looking at this MVP bonus all wrong. By going alone, I get all the E.P. for the monsters & all the E.P. for treasure. Couldn’t even sell all of it.

----

Marshes, swamps, fens, and bogs are classified as different types of wetlands. Marshes are subject to flooding, swamps grow trees, bogs are very poor soil, and fens are only distinct because they aren’t any of the above. However, no one walking through any of the above cares.

It was wet. The streams were shallow, but everywhere. The islands were low and soggy, which was another way to say wet. And the smell wasn’t too great either.

Keven had provided a basic map of where they had been. The mound itself was very obvious once he found it. Six feet high and forty feet across, made of sun-baked mud. There were tracks all around the area, many of them fresh, but no obvious entrance.

Duromar didn’t really want to face them inside the mound. So he’d come up with an idea. One of his teachers at the kobar had taught him the secret Angawa battle cry, but he hadn’t tried to use it yet. The Angawa people were once so feared, even though now believed to be gone, their traditional battle cry could spike fear in an opponent's heart. Or so it was said.

He took a deep breath before yelling out, “HOO DE HOO!”

Within moments, a lizardman rose from a nearby thicket of grass, followed by five more on all sides. It was all slashing claws [-5 dam] at [-1 dam] first, then slashing [-20] blades [-18], then bites [-2 dam] to finish. Almost dull, really. Slashing [-14] blades [-21], then [-1 dam] claws [-1 dam], then teeth. He attacked [-14] a third [-18] lizardman, and a third went down. With room to maneuver, he slashed at the one behind him [-19] and [-21] cut him down hard. Another claw slipped in [-2 dam] from the front. Two left, [-15] and [-18] then just one, then [-20] none.

Duromar looked around himself, checking every side. When thirty seconds had gone by, which was as long as the fight had taken, he had to wonder if the remaining lizardmen were too frightened to face him. He sighed, then rushed forward and jumped up to land on the mound with both feet. Exactly as expected, with his four-hundred-pound weight, he crashed right through the roof and into the den.

It was a muddy mess of tunnels underneath the roof of the mound, and he quickly found the remaining lizardmen when four more attacked him. He instantly regretted the jump, [Crit! Severity 8, Upper back, -10, +80 E.P., +8 honor] as he was attacked from behind and the pain of the attack caused him to drop his weapons in the mud. He pulled out his third sword, which he hadn’t quite gotten around to selling yet, and went on the attack, delving into his dirty fighting skill [+1 honor] and looking for [Crit! Severity 16, Shoulder, -52, +1 honor] payback. Claws [-2 dam] hit [-1 dam], but the bites missed. He struck one more, putting down [-16] the one at his back. It was a slog [-18] with just one blade, getting clawed [-1 dam] again. With [-28] the next blow, only one was left. That last one took a wild swing, fumbled, and slashed herself, dying to her own claws. [+650 E.P., +2 honor]

Duromar couldn’t help but feel bemused. Had the last one suicided? He went to work, pulling out the fangs from each mouth, grateful that he’d asked about this. Frowler hadn’t appreciated the owlbear head very much. The only male who had stayed in the mound was wearing a gold torc. He must have been the leader. Nothing else was on them. Searching the mound, and remembering to collect his swords, he found the nest of eggs and collected those as well. Hidden beneath the eggs was the treasure, but it was fairly limited.

With the task finished, he headed back to heal. Again.

----

Lucrative, but dangerous. Shouldn’t have jumped in. Ah well, live and learn. Showed off my new scar while drinking tonight. Not sure what it looks like, but they were impressed.

P.S. [Damage: +520 E.P.], [Treasure: +158 E.P.] & [Converting 12 honor to 3 Honor]

----

Adnar’kerz 22

Fully healed again. Very strange idea occurred to me this morning. I’d have to check the distance to be sure, but I might be able to run all day and get all the way to Fangerie, going through Farzey and Arz along the way. Fangerie has the best chance of having a matching magic sword for sale. I can also check for magical elven chainmail at the same time, but I’m not going to hold my breath over that.

I left the armor to get fixed. AGAIN. So sick of that.

----

Duromar staggered into Fangerie. He’d misjudged the distance a little, not accounting for the occasional roughness of the terrain slowing him down. The sun was still above the horizon though, so it counted. The highlight of the trip was running past Torendrock a mile before reaching Farzey and saying he’d meet him at the keep tomorrow.

There was a shop that specialized in selling magic items. Because they could so often supply exactly what you asked for, all their prices were double what you would pay anywhere else. And on top of that, they would buy everything at half-price. Which did indeed mean that an item they purchased would be later sold for four times the cost. However, they had an ironclad no-curses guarantee on all items.

He haggled the price down just a little by purchasing a matched set of swords and selling back the single magic blade. The transaction cost over 24,000 gold, but what good was gold compared to the perfection of a good sword?

They even had a single set of elven chainmail. It had gone unsold for years because it was too big for any elf or human. Despite this, they refused to let it go for much under 10,000 gold. They also weren’t interested in purchasing his old chainmail, not wanting non-magical gear nor wanting oversized chainmail to sit around for years without a buyer.

Deeply pleased with his new finds, he found an inn for the night.

----

Adnar’kerz 23

It was late when Duromar passed through Farzey. He was running southwest, not quite into the setting sun. He was already tired, but Torendrock would have arrived at the keep sometime today, and he had said he’d be there today. So he kept running.

The trouble had been Arz. Some madman half-ogre had run through the city yesterday without even slowing down and had disrupted everything. The guards, to appease the population, had detained him and every other half-ogre they could find to question them all and find out who had done it. But clearly, Duromar couldn’t have been the one who did it. After all, he was coming from Fangerie, and surely it wasn’t possible for someone to run the nearly eighty miles to Fangerie yesterday and then eighty miles back today.

It took nearly two hours of his time to convince them they had the wrong half-ogre. He’d probably have failed if he hadn’t slowed to a walk just outside the walls to get a bit of stamina back.

He had been very tempted to stop in Farzey, and almost certainly should have, but ultimately didn’t. He was within sight of the walls when the sun dropped below the horizon, and at the foot of the drawbridge when it was halfway up. He stood there lost for a moment, not sure what to do. Running an hour and a half back to Farzey sounded stupid.

Behind him, he could hear a voice saying, “I told you he wouldn’t make it.”

He turned and saw the gang of halflings that regularly accosted visitors, most of them heading away from the road but there were two just standing there watching him.

“Hey. Is there a good place to camp around here?”

There was an evaluating silence. “You got coin?”

He jingled the small coin purse on his belt that held a handful of the copper coins that had been given a gold wash. In dim light, they often looked like gold. “A bit. Not much.”

“Yeah, okay. We got a place for folk like us.”

They led him a few hundred yards to the north, where the hilly land had a flat spot. There were the remains of some walls there as well, once a building of some sort had stood here.

A fair number of tents filled the space now, circled around a firepit. There were mostly halflings there, more than just the dozen who gathered at the main gate each day. There were also a pair of elves of the heavily tattooed variety that were called grel, and four half-orcs. There was a large cauldron of broth near the fire, and a steady stream of halflings carrying firewood into the campground.

The halfling leading him there came into the middle of the group and gestured at a log placed for a seat. “We’re real polite folk, so here’s some names. That’s Errol, Bob, Clive, Chauncey, Stu, Bertie, and Jiminy carrying wood. You got Rupert, Eli, Tuppy, Gladys, and Frank tending the fire. Jeeves and Wallace are cooking, I’m Seamus, and Halamin is in his tent.” He gestured vaguely at each group as he recited names. He waved at the non-halflings, continuing, “Also-”

Duromar cut him off. “Wait, hold on. Did you say Halamin?”

The not really friendly atmosphere got less so. “Why?”

“I have a friend named Halamin. Is it a common name?”

Seamus’s voice was ice-cold. “No. It’s not.”

Some of the halflings were fingering knives. It was almost certainly intended to look threatening. “Well. This particular friend flat out refused to come to the keep when invited.”

There was a bit of a snarl in his response. “I see. This would be Halamin the Betrayer, then?”

“Ah. I knew him as Halamin the Fearful.”

The oppressive feeling backed off a little. “Middle-aged?”

“No, young. Ish. Adult. More like your firewood gatherers in age than your cooks.”

There was a stunned silence, followed by a murmur of voices in some halfling tongue. “Get Halamin, he needs to hear this!”

----

Duromar drank deeply from the soup bowl. “After taking down the last of the trogs, we went back to Farzey. Haven’t seen him in a month now. Torendrock, that’s the dwarf I mentioned, should be in the keep; you might have seen him arrive earlier today. He’d be the one to ask, they’ve known each other longer.”

The halfling known as Halamin the Elder shook his head but smiled all the same. “Ha. My bastard of a son couldn’t be bothered to tell me I was a grandfather. Duromar, you have brought me great joy today. I am in your debt.”

“Well, you fed me.” A moment later, “I’m guessing he’d be welcome here, then?”

“My grandson? Oh yes.”

“Good. I’ll let him know if I can. So, leaving aside painful family business, what was this building we’re in?”

Several of the halflings winced. Halamin sighed. “Family business. Not a strictly legal type of business. My… progeny…” he trailed off and sighed. “We had a falling out and he told the commander what we were really doing out here.” He gestured at a wall. “They ran us out and burned the place down.”

Duromar reached into his pack and pulled out one of the small bags of coins he had. It had a mix of platinum, hard silver, gold, and electrum worth a hundred gold. He handed it to Halamin. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.” He snapped his fingers. “I just thought of something. I have a hundred pounds of rice in the warehouse in there, plus some sausage and… I forgot if there’s anything else. Can’t sell it, don’t need it.” He spoke over Halamin trying to say something. “And since I don’t have family of my own to give it to, you’ll just have to be the substitute family.”

“We can’t-”

“No, you don’t understand. You have to take it,” he said harshly, then leaned back to smile. “No choice.”

Seamus, who seemed to be the second-in-command, so to speak, did in fact speak up, “We’ll take it, and gladly. Winter is a tough time to forage and hunt.” That seemed to settle the issue.

----

Adnar’kerz 24

The outer drawbridge dropped down to the other side with a thud. Duromar had to wait for the cavalry to pass before he trotted across and made his way in. He collected Torendrock from the inn, Three Leaves to the Wind, and took him out to the warehouse. They collected the rice, sausage, figs, and barrel of cod. He added the spears, handaxes, and dagger as well, paid the storage fee, then they carried the lot out of the main gate, past the lounging halflings, and up the poorly marked path.

“Alright, w-we’re out. N-now, what’s going on?”

“Patience, we’re almost there.”

Soon enough, they arrived at the campsite. There were only three halflings there, working on dishes. A fourth came out of a tent during the commotion of greetings and dropping of supplies.

“Torendrock, this is Halamin the Elder. Grandfather to our friend Halamin. And this is Torendrock Oakaxe.”

The food was already vanishing into a tent as Halamin greeted them. “Good dwarf, have you by chance seen my grandson more recently?”

Torendrock looked between the two, stunned. “Ah.. nae. He l-left for Arz a week past.” Gathering his thoughts, he groaned in realization. “He and Marigold… She got a m-message from her m-mentor. He’s escorting her b-back for s-something important.”

The old halfling looked crestfallen. “Is it a dangerous trip?”

That got a burst of laughter. “Nae! M-marigold needed a book porter.” He leaned closer, conspiratorial-like. “P-pixie fairy spell s-slinger. We can get a message to him.” He looked at Duromar. “How long would it take to get to Arz and back?”

There was a soft chuckle. “Not long. When I passed you on the road I was headed to Fangerie.”

The halfling asked, “How many days ago was that?” Torendrock had the face of a dwarf trying to do mental arithmetic gymnastics.

“Day before yesterday. Yesterday morning I woke up in Fangerie. Missed the drawbridge by seconds.”

“B-but it’s eighty m-miles from Arz to F-fangerie alone! H-how… I d-don’t…”

Duromar nodded. “Long legs.”

“T-there’s g-got to be m-more than t-that!”

He scratched his chin. “It’s practice. For when we’re all running for our lives from a dragon.”

While the dwarf spluttered into incoherency, Halamin thoughtfully asked, “I wonder how many dragons there are in these mountains. I’d have to think there are at least a few.”

They spent a pleasant few hours chatting about the beasts to be found in the mountains, tales of which other halflings were quick to offer what they knew.

----

By midday, Duromar and Torendrock had discussed exploring the next cave and decided to do so. There were three cave openings left, but while his quest let him know that there were five areas to clear out, he could only think of three creatures that they should be certain of encountering: hobgoblins, orcs, and kobolds.

The entrance to the next cave was a mess. Bones from animals and humanoids alike, chunks of metal, mostly rusty, bits of fabric and fur, and some plant matter in the way of leaves and branches were all jumbled together as if mostly tossed from the cave entrance by some creature. Nothing appeared valuable.

With the mess outside, a stench inside would have made sense, but it had none. They followed a few twisty tunnels back forth, not finding anything at first until they came across a cavern with layers of webbing on the walls. Two figures seemed to lurk in the webs on one side.

But what happened next was a swarm of bats dropped from above, swirling around the two and trying to bite them. He swung his swords around, never [-8] hitting [-9] the [-8] same [-9] one [-8] twice [-9]. Torendrock swore as one bit him, but he cut that one in half. He [-8] kept [-12] swinging, [-8] as [-10] one [-12] went [-10] down, [-12] then [-8] three [-9] more, [-13] then [-15] his [-10] space cleared up suddenly as the rest attacking him fell to pieces. He started [-9] clearing [-10] the [-8] ones [-10] around [-9] the [-9] dwarf. [+350 E.P.]

“D-did you get bitten?”

“Nope. I love this armor.”

There was a scoff. “They bit me th-three times. Venomous, I think. Dwarf blood is t-too tough for them, though.”

“That’s good…” Duromar trailed off, looking around himself puzzled. “Uh.. which way did we come in here?”

There was a friendly chuckle. “You got t-turned around?” He pointed at a wall. “Through that… uh. H-h-hold on.” He looked around as well, “T-that’s not good.”

“Confusion effect, I’m assuming. Try not to get separated.”

They picked a tunnel, which had no choice but to be randomly chosen, and headed down it. Not more than fifteen feet down the passage it suddenly flared to life, and they were confronted by a new foe. At that moment, Duromar was enlightened to the nature of the labyrinth they were in.

It was a female minotaur, wearing an actual chainmail bikini for armor.

She yelled out a single word, “Perverts!” There was a flare of light from the bikini top that stabbed at his eyes, but he shook off the spell. Torendrock’s cry of pain suggested he hadn’t fared as well. She then charged by lowering her head and tried to skewer him, dashing back and forth at speeds that made Duromar look slow, making three attacks on him in the same time he had to swing each sword tellingly once. The difference was that she missed every time, and he hit [-26] both [-32] times, putting her down. [+1400 E.P., +1 honor]

Mines of Chaos: 7 of 11 regions cleared

Ogre (1/1) Goblins (196/196) Owlbear (1/1) Bugbears (39/39) Trolls (2/2) & Gnolls (60/90) Simians (49/53) Minotaur (1/1)

[+5 honor]

Torendrock rubbed his eyes. “What w-was that?”

“Dangerous if she’d blinded both of us. You never even saw her coming, did you?”

The dwarf simply shook his head.

“She was fast. I thought I was fast, but she was… huh.” He picked up her feet. “Magic horseshoes. Of course. Wait, hold on. Cows are supposed to have cloven hooves, why do minotaurs have single hooves?” He shook it off, shrugged, and pried the horseshoes off. “Glad I’m not a biologist, I’d be criven drazy by now.”

“What?”

“Nevermind, just a dumb joke.” He hesitated at taking off the bikini. Sure, it was magical armor, but she was clearly a woman, with all that that entailed. He settled for averting his eyes to be polite.

They then wandered the halls of the maze. After the first hour, Duromar kept count of the number of times they walked past the minotaur’s body after walking in circles again. It took ten loops before they finally found a room that was interesting.

The floor was covered in furs, the walls in bones laid out decoratively. There was a four-poster bed and, disturbingly, a set of chains attached to the wall above the headboard.

They searched the room, initially not finding much. With multiple valuable magic items though, it was hard to believe there was no treasure at all. Mindful of the confusion effect, they searched the walls for a secret door and found one.

The door was in actuality a massive stone slab that even together, they could barely shift. It was sobering to think that even his prodigious strength would have been insufficient.

Behind the slab was a staff, definitely magical, some potions, a set of plate mail, and a painting.

Frustratingly, the confusion effect was not tied to the minotaur, so it persisted. It was three hours later by the time they finally picked the passage out. The effect was clearly designed to make it harder to leave.

The sun was low, but still up. It was late enough to camp but after hours of walking in circles, Duromar found himself eager to keep going and get into a real fight.

“Keep going? Next cave is right there.”

“Aye.”

The next opening was clearly an old mine tunnel, with regular wooden beams shoring it up. They looked ancient, though, and not in good shape. The tunnel looped in a figure-eight before another passage led away from it. That passage ended in a stout looking oak door. Skulls decorated the door and the wall beside it. On the door itself was carved a message.

Come in - we’d like to have you for dinner!

They backed off a few paces to have a whispered conference. “Knock or bash it down? Might be hard to bash down, looks thick.”

“Nae. Search for s-secret door behind us.”

Duromar startled, then looked at the door again. “Of course… yes, do that first. If we don’t find one?”

“Bash it.”

They backtracked, checking the walls for the likely backdoor, but found nothing. Returning to the door, Duromar set himself, lowered his shoulder, and tried to break the door down. There was a horrific breaking sound as the massive door broke down the center, the two halves falling to the sides. The heavy bar that had been holding it closed exploded into splinters that went everywhere in the large guard chamber.

Two hobgoblin guards, sitting on stools at a low table, startled and began to get up. Torendrock ran through the opening and buried his axe in one of the two, taking advantage of the surprise. Drawing both swords, Duromar attacked the other one [-16] and [-20] cut him down. Torendrock finished the second one just as easily. [+35 E.P.]

There were two doors out of the room, and with silent gestures, they each watched one, waiting to see if anyone would come to investigate the crashing sound. Two minutes of silence was all the impatient half-ogre could take, though. He carefully pulled open the door he was watching.

It was a closet.

Opening the other door led to a hallway. There were no rushing squads of hobgoblins about, so perhaps no alarm had gone up yet. Two doors were visible to the right, so they went that way first.

The first door opened into a vast armory. Armor in various stages of being mended or constructed, weapons in the dozens stacked in corners, and a massive fire in the stone fireplace.

A few steps into the room, four hobgoblins, fully armed and armored, leapt at them from behind a corner. With straight blows [-16], he [-16] took out the first. Torendrock was slow to respond though and took a hit while readying his weapon. The second was just as quick, [-17] leaving [-23] one for each of them. Injured, they went down with just [-14] a single blow [-24] each. [+123 E.P.]

Poking through the weapons and armor, they found much that was useful, but nothing with significant value. The only things Duromar ended up taking were the silver-tipped arrows.

The second door was a storage room, filled with crates of fresh vegetables, bales of hay, ten-foot poles, a whip, and keys. They took the keys.

At the end of that hallway was a metal gate. Behind that gate, in a natural-looking cavern, was a hay-strewn area, and two apes wearing backpacks. Pack apes, they were called, a rather unusual sort of pack animal that was probably unique to this world.

Turning back the other way, they were met by a charging squad of hobgoblins coming from an unexplored hallway. Duromar dispatched the first three with contemptuous ease [Crit! Severity 24, Side of Head, -100, +1 honor] with just a single blow. Morale shattered, they swung pathetically, and so he went for a second swing but [Fumble!] instead of killing the last two, his sword slipped out of his hand. Growling, he swung with the single blade [-24] and took out both regardless. [+158 E.P., +1 honor]

Down the hallway was a guard room, probably the source of the most recent squad. Some empty cells down one passage, and a door into empty barracks. Hardly any coinage to speak of, the wealth of hobgoblins seemed to be in the higher quality weapons and armor.

Heading back down the main tunnel, Duromar unlocked the gate keeping the pack apes contained but left it closed. He equated it with opening stables up to let horses loose, disinterested in slaughtering domesticated animals. Even if they were dangerous apes worth a lot of E.P.

Rounding the corner, they spotted a single guard standing at the end of the hallway. He must have been on high alert, because the moment they appeared, he darted out of sight, and they heard a door opening and then slamming shut.

They followed, of course, finding a guard station and a door. The door led to stairs going down.

“What do you think, keep going? We have to assume they’re on alert now.”

“Aye.”

Duromar shrugged and headed down. At the bottom of the stairs, the hallway was, for the moment, quiet. Directly across the hallway was a door, and one more was visible to the left. He went directly in, finding four hobgoblins finishing securing armor on and ready to fight.

It was a short fight. Two [-17] blows [-14] for the first, two [-16] blows [-20] for the second, two [-20] blows [-20] for the last two. [+123 E.P.]

They closed the door and searched the room. The trunks were unlocked, two of them even open. There were a few gems, a nice bracelet, and amusingly, a book on caring for pack apes, written in common.

Heading back into the hallway, they headed to the next door. It was, unquestionably, a torture chamber. Six humanoids were chained to the walls, and two large, heavily scarred hobgoblins were in the room. He struck one [-15], the other struck him [-8 dam], he killed the one who hurt him [Crit! Severity 20, Foot, -36, +1 honor], then the other [-15]. [+98 E.P., +1 honor]

Two halflings, two humans, an orc, and a gnoll. The keys on the ugly hobgoblins unlocked the chains easily enough for the first four, then standing before the orc, he paused for a moment.

“I’ll let you go if you’ll leave without causing us any trouble.”

The orc nodded, muttering in a rough voice, “No trouble.”

He turned to the gnoll, “Same deal.”

The gnoll bared his teeth and laughed uncannily like a hyena. “No trouble.”

Duromar nodded and unlocked them both. The orc rubbed his wrists and nodded in thanks. Unfortunately, the gnoll rushed at the dead hobgoblin and scooped a sword, immediately swinging it at Duromar. Duromar ducked, hit him [-34] once, and he fell dead. [+65 E.P.]

The orc snorted. “No trouble now.”

“Heh. Yeah. Let’s get everyone out of here.”

The male halfling, in particularly poor shape, was given a healing potion by Torendrock just to get him to a state where he could walk on his own. Stepping into the hallway, the group could hear a commotion coming from around the far corner. Unfortunately, that was the direction of the stairs as well. Moving quickly, Duromar took up a position just past the stairs and peeked around the corner while the others filed past him. There was only a single door visible, and a contingent of hobgoblins were standing guard in front of it as a horde of younger hobgoblins were evacuated deeper into the complex.

They continued the escape through the cleared areas easily enough. Outside, the sun was still up, if just barely. The orc peeled off immediately, heading to the one entrance he had yet to explore, and vanished into it.

They hiked the half-mile through the valley, then another mile down the back entrance of Mercy’s Fortune Mine, a name Duromar hadn’t actually shared with anyone yet, and rode up in the basket to the upper level. With the basket secured, it was the safest place that could be made in a short walk away from the Mines of Chaos. The halflings were both exhausted by the time they camped.

----

Chesterton and his wife Vina are merchants, members of the guild in the keep. Zeke and Deke are their guards. They are all very grateful for the rescue, especially the halflings who would have been featured at the feast tonight.

They won’t be able to repair that door very quickly, so I can afford a few days to let things settle down. Even better, this will probably look like a rescue job now.

And I finally know where the orcs are! Of course, they’re in the last place I would have looked. Which makes me puzzled, where do I find the kobolds? Eh, one thing at a time.

P.S. [Damage: +1000 E.P.], [MVP: +2250 E.P.] & [Converting 12 honor to 3 Honor]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Name: Duromar

E.P.: 74768

Next Level: 80001

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Name: Torendrock

E.P.(+15%): 10001

Next Level: 18001