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By Root 713 0

but sincerely warm, touched me. So often have I been met with taunts and bared weapons! “I have heard of you,” he remarked. 'Then you have the advantage,“ I replied politely, grasping his wrist. Behind him, the sturdy man narrowed his eyes angrily. I was surprised somewhat; my benign remark had apparently injured his pride. Did he think himself a renowned fighter? Tharman introduced himself, and the tough leader immediately rushed forward to do likewise. ”I am Rico,“ he declared, coming up to me boldly. ”Rico Pengallen of the village Pengallen, fifteen miles to the south and east.“ The obvious pride in his voice caused Tharman to wince and set off silent alarms that this Rico might bring trouble when we had caught up with the monsters. I had heard of Pengallen, though I had only marked it by its evening lights from a distance. According to Bruenor's maps, the village was no more than a handful of farmhouses. So much for the hopes that any organized militia would soon arrive. ”We were attacked early last night, just after sunset,“ Rico continued, roughly nudging the older man aside. ”Ores and ogres, as we've said. They took some prisoners----“ ”My wife and son,“ Tharman put in, his voice full of anxiety. ”My brother as well," said another. I spent a long while considering that grim news, trying to find some consolation I could offer to the desperate men. I did not want their hopes to soar, though, not with ogres and ores holding their loved ones and with the odds apparently so heavily weighted against us.

“We are less than an hour behind,” I explained. “I had hoped to spot the group before sunset. With Guenhwyvar beside me, though, I can find them night or day.” “We're ready for a fight,” Rico declared. It must have been my expression- perhaps it was unintentionally condescending-that he did not like, for he slapped his hammer across his open palm and practically bared his teeth with his ensuing snarl. “Let us hope it will not come to a fight,” I said. “I have some experience with ogres and with ores. Neither are overly adept at setting guards.” “You mean to simply slip in and free our kin?” Rico's barely tempered anger continued to surprise me, but when I turned to Tharman for some silent explanation, he only slipped his hands into the folds of his worn traveling cloak and looked away. “We will do whatever we must to free the prisoners,” I said. “And to stop the monsters from returning to Pengallen,” Rico added roughly. “They can be dealt with later,” I replied, trying to convince him to solve one problem at a time. A word to Bruenor would have sent scores of dwarves scouring the region, stubborn and battle-ready warriors who would not have stopped their hunting until the threat had been eliminated. Rico turned to his four comrades, or, more accurately, he turned away from me. “Guess we're following a damned drow elf,” he said. I took no offense. Certainly I had suffered worse treatment than the blustery insults, and this desperate band, with the exception of Rico, seemed pleased enough to have found any ally, regardless of the color of my skin. The enemy camp did not prove difficult to locate. We found it on our side of the river, as twilight settled on the land. Conveniently-or rather, stupidly-the monsters had set a blazing fire to ward off the winter night's cold. The light of the bonfire also showed me the layout of the encampment. There were no tents, just the fire and a few scattered logs propped on stones for benches. The land was fairly flat, covered with a bed of river-polished stones and dotted by boulders and an occasional tree or bush. Pig-faced ore sentries were in place north and south of the fire, holding crude, but wicked, weapons in their dirty hands. I assumed that similar guards were posted to the west, away from the river. The prisoners, seeming not too badly injured, huddled together behind the blaze, their backs against a large stone. There were four, not three: the two boys and the farmer's wife joined by a surprisingly well-dressed goblin. At the time, I didn't question the presence of this unexpected