Jenk waited patiently at the stone route marker eating a small lunch of dried fruit, nuts and what little bit of meat he had left. He took a drink from his canteen and looked south along the road where Talbert was still barely in sight walking forward patrol with Cathnoma. Jenk looked north and noted the caravan's lack of progress without surprise. The ox carts and pack animals crawled along at a snails pace toward him, managing to raise plumes of dust even after the recent rains. The team's assignment after returning to Tivar had been to escort refugees from Tivar to Avendoor and ensure that a messenger from the Duke arrived in one piece. After that, they were to investigate the road from Avendoor to Bridgetown and determine if Bridgetown still stood. Initially it had been a welcome change from the frantic flight out of Port Redcap, but after several days of plodding along among smelly pack animals and needy refugees Jenk was ready to embrace any chance at a fight. His readiness to volunteer for scouting duties was shared by most of the party, however, and he found himself looking forward to each turn away from the caravan.

The caravan road travelled southwest from Tivar, turning west to avoid the norther spar of the Crespit mountains and then due south through the lower foothills. The area was lightly wooded, with large swaths of prarie topped with stands of oak, maple and beech in the lower areas or pine further up the hillside. The farms around Tivar had slowly faded away after the fourth day and this far from a city there were only rare signs of humans. One sign that Jenk was on the lookout for was bears, even if they weren't particularly common this close to the caravan road. The big brown bears would migrate from the large forests to the west to the mountains later in the year but Jenk knew that food opportunities in the early spring would drive them out of their normal haunts.

Back at the caravan, Winstin was the acting bodyguard for the messenger, a man named Nomden Bose. Nomden was a large, loud and obnoxious drunk and Wisntin found that he ranked the task of walking next to the man as his guard to be nearly the least pleasurable task he'd been assigned since joining the group. Nomden sipped constantly from a steel flask on a long strap that he kept tucked in his cloak at all times. The man deemed himself superior to all those around him and treated them all with a jovial tone that rang false in Winstin's ears. Currenly, Nomden was finishing yet another tale of how his political skill had ensured more wealth, power or prestige for the Duke. Winstin wasn't listening, but over the course of the morning he had developed a real sense of timing for Nomden's tales. Their predictable pattern made sounds of surprise, agreement or awe easy to insert as required without hearing the tedious and clearly overblown details. Even if he mistimed his response, it was unlikely that the man would notice. His sense of self importance would carry him right past anything short of silence in the few pauses. Winstin threw in a well-placed “Ah, how excellent”, which Nomden felt deserved a hearty laugh and extended pull from his flask.

Tegg was well aware of Winstin's discomfort, but neither felt mascocistic nor altruistic enough to step in for today's bodyguard assignment. He had suffered through the first day of tales and was more than willing to pass the honor around to each and every member of the team before dealing with the man again. Instead, he fell back to look over the group of refugees, some of whom he knew had accompanied Winstin and Talbert from Port Redcap. Tegg had only managed to piece together some of what happened on the other team's journey back to Tivar. Talbert had been surprisingly mute about the whole ordeal, going off on his own looking for someone named after the city. Winstin had simply shrugged it off and spoke of taking up following Mogisor's religion. Tegg liked the big priest, and had nothing against a little faith, but the whole thing seemed awfully recent to be steeped in so much myth and lore. Talking to the refugees was hopeless, they spoke of Mogisor and the events only in hushed, reverent tones, revealing little hard facts.

Dar was riding on the back of one of the caravan carts and simply enjoying a day without rain or Arasen. After his injuries returning from Port Redcap he'd been ordered into the medical facilities, probably for months. Dar didn't dislike him entirely, but travelling with the apprentice was tiresome. The boy was either fawning over every scrap of magical lore she dredged up from her days in the guild school or awkwardly flirting on her. She also found herself growing friendly with Vallen. The two women had spent several hours in the bath house after finally returning to Tivar, trying to wash off weeks of road dust and caked mud.

Vallen was sitting with Ren on another cart, going through breathing and meditative exercises. Ren had instructed her on the basics of focus, but he barely remembered some of the early exercises himself. He hoped that they would be able to visit his school in Bridgetown, at least so he could talk to the teachers there about his predicament.

“Focus on the center, picture yourself within yourself. See what you are, not what you look like” he began again. This exercise seemed to be one that Vallen could do well, or at least she rarely gave up in frustration.. She had yet to demonstrate any skill with spiritual magic. Although this would not prevent her from joining the order, it meant all he had personally learned would be of little use. She could pick the scholarly path or physical training path if she wished, but Ren had no experience in either.

“I see myself”, Vallen answered in a soft voice.

Ren smiled, he didn't know if she was succeeding or not, and it really didn't matter. The exercise was for focus and to stir any magical abilities. He reached out mentally to softly surround her mind, looking for any sign of spirit. “Good. Now I want you to...”

“Are you doing that?” Vallen suddenly asked.

Ren stopped his probe suddenly, “What do you mean?”

Vallen dropped her concentration and looked up. “I thought... I felt you in my head.”

Ren was astonished. She shouldn't have felt anything even if she had the spark. “You're going to be trouble” he said softly. “I have to find a real teacher for you.”

Talbert and Cathnoma met Jenk after his tour of the road south of the caravan. Given the stately pace of the carts, they had ample time before Talbert would switch scout duties with Dar.

“Anything?” Jenk asked with minimal interest.

Talbert chuckled. “Small animals and grass. Oh, and a tree that looked like a victorious wrestler.”

Jenk grinned and tossed Talbert an apple. “Exciting” Jenk said without enthusiasm.

“Yeah, although I did notice there's an awful lot of big birds flying around.”

Jenk raised an eyebrow and glanced up at the sky. There, wheeling above them was a pair of large hawks. Normally Jenk wouldn't have thought twice about this, but they seemed focused on the Caravan rather than any hunting opportunities. Looking from horizon to the mountains he spotted three more. “I wonder... ” he started. When Talbert gave him an inquizitive look he shrugged. “Maybe its nothing. Just a lot of hawks out after the rain.”

Arasen found himself struggling to occupy his now copious free time alone in Tivar. Initally he had lounged quite happily in the medical wards, but after the healers had finished healing what they could of his leg and encasing it in plaster, he was summarily dismissed. He returned to the inn where the group had stayed previously, but found it had been partially demolished. It seemed that the demand for supplies had gotten so great that a number of larger buildings had been dismantled and cannibalized for their wood. Arasen stood for a few moments in the muddy street, struggling with unexpected nostalgia and loss. It wasn't as if the building had any special meaning, but it was one of the few places in the city where he felt familiar and comfortable. With a sigh he shouldered his pack and turned toward the section of Tivar he knew to be inhabited.

He found the tavern easily enough, there were few buildings on the outskirts of the Mallotish neighborhood that were inhabited and this one seemed to have been somewhat prosperous before the invasion. It was evidently called the sullen badger or hedgehog, Arasen couldn't read the language on the sign but it included an unhappy looking creature retreating from a victorious gardner or farmer on the large wooden sign. He couldn't decide if the lettering was just some odd scheme or if it intentionally unreadable to make the place seem exotic. The greatroom consisted of a dozen round tables, sturdy and shining with fresh wax, surrounded by square chairs. There was a large fireplace of sandstone on the right wall with a low fire still burning and several pots hanging over the logs. Rows of steel tankards lined the mantle and hung from pegs at eye level around the walls, sat on window sills and hung in clusters by ropes from the two large wooden poles. The bar itself stood directly across from the door and had a pair of large women behind it handing plates of food to the one waitress. Arasen noted the similarity in looks between the all the women and assumed this was some sort of family business.

He made is way toward one of the many empty tables, nodding to the few other patrons in the room. Everyone looked to be wearing Tivar colors of some sort. There were four men playing cards at the back table, a small group eating at one of the front tables and a handful of individuals sitting scattered by themselves. Arasen limped in and hesitated until the waitress spotted him

“Grab a cup and sit down, sir.” she said with a trace of lisp in each word. Arasen wondered at the dialect while he freed a tankard from a wall peg and surreptitiously checked to make sure it wasn't full of dust. Glancing around, he noticed a young female blueward watching him. He considered walking over and sitting with her, but she lowered her eyes and he shrugged it off. With a wince he lowered himself into one of the hard chairs and struggled to prop his leg up on the chair across from him.

Over the course of the next two days it became clear to Jenk that the hawks weren't just acting oddly, they were watching the caravan intently. Each day a pair would arrive, leave around midday and were replaced by a second pair. It was unnerving in its timing. When Jenk pointed it out Tegg initially laughed it off, but after Jenk correctly predicted that the pair would leave and another pair would arrive Tegg was forced to agree. Knowing something was suspicious, however, proved no real comfort. They debated long into the night what to do about the birds, but it seemed all but impossible to kill, avoid or trick the birds. The next day they were still discussing it when Winstin returned with even worse news.

“Campfires.” He said, walking up to the caravan with Cathnoma. His interruption of Nomden's tale of how he saved an ambassador from some embarrassing comment drew looks of relief from everyone except Nomden.

Jenk and Tegg followed him back to the site. Cathnoma began frantically sniffing the area. “Last night” Tegg said, sifting through the ashes with his fingers.

The campfire sat in a small copse of trees on the side of a hill on the west side of the road. From the treeline they could easily make out a long stretch of the caravan road in either direction, and had a clear view of the caravan.

“Nice spot” Jenk muttered. He swept over the campsite quickly, but neither he nor Tegg found anything to indicate how many people had been there.

“What's the chance its not the Tohri?” Winstin asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Jenk grunted and kicked some of the ashes over. “Not good. This is pretty military. A hunter or traveller wouldn't have bothered to sweep his tracks.”

With exchanged glances the trio returned to the road to wait for the caravan.

Four days later the group turned left at a massive intersection of caravan roads. There was no sign of a live enemy, but every day they found another campfire site. Heading east, they slowly started ascending into the Restoss Valley. Two days later, at the crest of a hill the roadway turned left to fall slightly, then curved upward again revealing the massive stone gates of Avendoor. The high valley in which the city sat was flanked by steep cliffs of sandstone. The massive city walls ran from north to south, curving upward to meet the cliff walls with tall lookout towers. The gates themselves sat in the center of the wall and consisted of three wooden doorways, each with towers and dividing walls to slow an attack.

For the first time the caravan encountered traffic on the road. In the early morning the caravan passed a few nervous looking farmers and merchants, apparently heading for greater saftey in the south. The mood of the group lifted at the sight of the huge gates, they promised safety and strength. As they walked, however, fear slowly crept back into their thoughts. The gates' size created an illusion of proximity, it took the rest of the day to reach the main gates. Standing in front of the guardshack and waiting for Nomden to finish describing why they were here, Jenk looked back down the caravan road. There was nothing behind them but he spotted the hawks circling above.

Arasen's routine formed quickly. He slept and ate at the tavern and spent most of his free time slowly hobbling around the nearly deserted streets of the neighborhood. Although he'd dubbed his new temporary home the"Cowering Hedgehog", he learned from the waitress that it was actually called the "Truimphant Lord" after some local tale he'd never heard of, and that the waitress was the daughter of one of the large twin sisters behind the bar. They'd fallen on hard times because of the war. Most of their normal wealthy customers had left the city shortly after the battles started and the military personell who now visited weren't interested in their fine selection of wines or specially prepared delicies. They also had the misfortune of being in one of the peripheral neighborhoods. While the central areas of the city were bustling with officers and soldiers, the outskirts drew those who could escape the noise, generally the injured and those who were between assignments.

Arasen listened to the waitress complain for as long as he could politely stand it, then excused himself for his daily walk. The medics had repeatedly insisted that he get out and walk in order to speed his recovery. For Arasen it was less about exercise or recovery than boredom. A mostly empty tavern great room provides few distractions, as Arasen wasn't interested in cards or drowning himself in wine. Usually his departure barely drew the attention of the waitress, but today the attractive blueward who always sat near the fireplace stood up after him and followed him to the door.

“Do you mind a bit of company?”, she asked softly, watching the floor.

Arasen stammered for a moment, then nodded. She seemed content to follow Arasen, even with his slow, shambling wobble. Every few minutes Arasen would try to work up some sort of conversation, but the woman seemed distant. He finally gave up and stayed silent until they reached a park near the middle of the neighborhood.

“Sorry”, he said as he slumped onto a bench. “I need to take a break.”

The woman nodded and sat at the other end of the bench, fanning herself. Arasen studied her for a moment, then took in the scenery. She seemed to be a little older than he was, which wasn't saying much. She had reddish brown hair and a round face and looked to be very thin under her cloak. He tried not to think too much of her following him, given his limited romantic resume. He supposed she was just getting as bored of the tavern as he was.

After several minutes of looking absently at the untended gardens and silent fountain, Arasen worked up some courage. “So. I'm Arasen” he said with a bit of nervousness.

The woman smiled at him. “Nice to meet you”, she responded.

Arasen waited, but apparently she wasn't going to introduce herself. He cast about for something to talk about, but nothing came to mind. Finally, she glanced at his leg and asked “How did you hurt your leg?”

Arasen started to say that he'd tripped while running from the beastmen, but stopped. It sounded a bit cowardly and ridiculous, tripping in the grass while running from the enemy. “I... I fell in a fight. I tripped over something and... and I just went down.”

She nodded somewhat absently and looked out into the park. Arasen wanted to add something, but nothing came to mind and he finally resorted to honesty just to have something to talk about.

“Actually... we were retreating.. in a bunch of grass. I stepped in a rabbit hole, I think.”, he said with his cheeks starting to flush.

The woman glanced at him, then his leg, and then put her hand over her mouth to stop a quiet laugh. “Sorry.” she said.

“That's alright”, Arasen said with a chuckle. “I guess it sounds really bad. The brave soldier, running from the enemy and breaking his leg in some hole in a field. I doubt I'll get many bards to sing that one.”

The woman laughed out loud. Arasen grinned and started to tell her the whole tale. After an hour in the park listening to his story of Port Redcap and the refugees, she was still smiling. Arasen finished with his memores of being carried back from the bridge. Finally, the woman stood and held out her hand.

“Thanks.” she said, as Arasen hesitently shook her hand.

“For what?”

“The story. Its been tough, being back. Most of the stories are awful, full of sitting in the frozen mud waiting to get attacked, not knowing where the enemy is.” she smiled sadly and looked distantly across the park.

Arasen nodded, then laughed. “Tomorrow I'll tell you how I got bit by a Tohri dog!”

Avendoor was breathtaking in both archetecture and squalor. The city was famous for amber colored stone buildings with vast archways and domes. The entire city, from gate to gate, was built of the locally quarried orange stone following centuries old designs. Every building included circular or arched windows, high arched doorways, and collumns. The myriad of different roof styles and interesting collumns lent diversity to the otherwise overwhelming amount of orange rock, but it assured that visitors would easily be lost.

Detracting from the beautiful buildings was the endless stench of human filth. Each sidestreet revealed mobs of refugees settling down in the muck, bereft of hope and options. Small children and street dogs ran past open pits of waste and trash while adults sat in groups around small pits of fire. Each change in the wind brought fresh olfactory horrors, each turn of the head revealed new pitiful vistas and depression.

Once fully inside the gate, the cart and refugees were led away by a bored looking soldier wearing Avendoor's colors.

As they passed throught the city the party gaped and stared, much to the myrth of Nomden, who walked along with a smug grin without looking at anything in particular. He led them down the central road of Avendoor, called "The Main Way" by everyone. It bisected the city neatly, running from the East to West gates and only altering its direct course to split around the massive fountains and statues in the central plaza in the center of the city. It was at the fountain that Nomden took leave of their company. He started into a long speech about how much he appreciated their "remarkable courage" and "due dilligence" when Tegg roughly cut him short.

“Yes, yes. You're welcome Mister Bose” he said loudly. “We're very glad you have arrived and we will now be moving on.”

Without a glance back, Tegg started around the edge of the fountain. The rest of the group exchanged glances with each other and a flustered Nomden, then shrugged and proceeded behind Tegg.

“I don't know that he's used to being dismissed like that”, Jenk said with a smirk after catching Tegg.

Tegg continued his rapid pace without pause. “Breaks my heart. I'm getting out of this city as quickly as possible. Tell Vallen and Ren to get supplies and meet me outside the West Gate.”

“We aren't staying here tonight?”, Dar asked with surprise.

“Do you really think we'll find an inn?” Tegg asked, pointing at the crowded alleys on either side. “I doubt we'll even find supplies in this mess.”

Tegg's prediction proved incorrect, but not by much. Ren managed to spend ten times what he expected to buy half as much food as they needed to stock their packs. Travelling gear was nonexistant, and they were forced to sell their last pack horse to cover the costs. A dispirited group arrived at the West gate, where Tegg was growling and grumbling about the delay.

Arasen didn't see the pretty blueward for a few days and tried not to let it bother him. There was a constant flow of soldiers in and out of the inn, so he attempted to meet soldiers and swap tales. He'd actually gotten pretty good at identifying people who wouldn't brag about fantasy battles and lordly victories when he spotted the young girl again. She walked in and sat at his table with only a small smile and listened to a greenward with a massive scar across his forehead as he finished his tale. The greenward noted the girl's presence, gave Arasen a grin and moved off to another table to drink.

“Its good to see you again...” he said with a smile.

The girl smiled back and stood up. “Let's go for a walk” she said simply.

As they walked, Arasen was again at a loss for how to start a conversation, but was satisfied with seeing the young girl again. He still wondered about not knowing her name, realizing that he couldn't even ask troops in her squad where she'd gone. When they reached the park, she hesitated, checking to see if Arasen needed to stop. He didn't, but he regretted shaking his head when she moved on. They finally reached an older section of manor houses that stood in a row along a high wall. The buildings would have suited a wealthy merchant or lesser nobility. The young girl stopped in front of one, her hand lingering on the low iron gate.

“My home...” she said absently. Looking up at the dark windows.

“Did your family evacuate?” Arasen asked, standing beside her.

The girl hesitated, then nodded. “They fled early, along with everyone else on the street. They went to Cattras.”

“Why did you stay?”

The girl smiled sadly, then opened the gate. “Its my home. I had to.”

Arasen followed her up the path, past empty flower beds and stone benches. The lawns had once been well tended, but the spring had brought out weeds. He noticed a broken statue of an angel standing in the middle of the lawn, and the girl paused to look with him.

“My grandfather made that... ” she said absently. Arasen followed her over to the statue, looking up at the angelic figure and the intricate stonework. The girl paused to pick up a broken chunk of marble, turning it absently in her hand. In a moment of clarity, Arasen took it from her and placed it on the wing where it had clearly broken from. He focused for a moment, wondering if he could even do something like this, and when he pulled back his hand the piece stayed.

The young woman gasped and laughed softly. “So, my heroic dog slayer is also a stonemason!”

Arasen started to protest, but found himself nose to nose with the woman, who kissed him softly. She then turned without a word and walked off toward the manor house. Arasen sat down, stunned, then chased after her.

The trip from the west gate of Avendoor dampened the party's spirits even further. The road showed no signs of recent travel, the grass along the side which normally would have been cropped short by travelling horses and oxen was tall and overgrown full of thistles and weeds. Where the caravan road from Tivar was large and flat, the road out from Avendoor curved back and forth through the high hills down to the wide plain southwest of Bridgetown. Pine forest covered most of the hills, but provided little cover against the late spring heat. The party would wake to early damp chill only to bake in the midday sun. Making things worse were the bees and flies swarming through the underbrush, pestering the party. Other than the return of the hawks, there was no sign of trouble as they stopped on the fourth day out for a late lunch.

“Valen and Talbert, you're on scout for the afternoon.” Tegg said, adjusting his gear. “ Ren and Dar on point. Ren take Cath. Winstin take the rear.” There was little comment on this, everyone packed their gear and simply nodded. Jenk came up to walk with Tegg as they shouldered packs.

“Getting easier?”, Jenk asked.

Tegg nodded, then frowned. “You mean sending them off to draw out our enemy? It shouldn't get easier, but I guess it does.”

“That, and being in charge in general.”

Tegg chuckled softly. “I suppose.”. Tegg took a drink of water from his canteen and was turning to watch Vallen and Talbert walk off when Cathnoma started to growl.

For a moment, everyone paused. Jenk started to draw his sword, but nothing seemed be happening. Then a gutteral howl answered Cathnoma from the woods to the southwest.

“VALLEN! ” Tegg yelled, waving the scouts to come back. As they turned, a group of four of the beastmen burst from the treeline in a wedge.

Talbert saw the beastmen and froze, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword. Vallen took off in a rush to get back to the rest of the group, leaving him stranded in a panic. Jenk, Ren and Dar ran to intercept Vallen, but Ren suddenly staggered to a halt and collapsed face first onto the muddy road. Tegg ran up to him with Dar close behind. Tegg dropped to a knee next to Ren with his dagger readied. There wasn't time to do much and Tegg couldn't find any obvious injury

Vallen met Winstin and Jenk, turning smoothly with her daggers drawn and spotted Talbert still standing further up the road. Talbert had missed Vallen's retreat until it was too late and finally came to his senses and drew his sword. Now, standing alone against the charging beastmen he was at a loss as to what to do. The monsters covered the heavy grass between the trees and the road in a low, loping charge. When they reached the road, one turned left to consider the rest of the party while the others continued directly at Talbert. He managed to get his sword up to block the first sweeping slash and was rewarded with a sharp howl as the monster's arm opened in a burst of blood. The second reached past his guard, however, and Talbert was forced to leap back and to the side to avoid losing his innards.

Vallen found herself charging back toward Talbert in a move that she might have considered foolish given time to think about it. The single beastman who wasn't busy trying to eviscerate Talbert leaned forward and gave a gutteral howl. As she ran, flourishing her daggers to distract the beast, she was passed by Cathnoma in full charge. The dog burst between Vallen and the creature and launched itself at the creature's shoulder. The beastman brought both arms up to block and howled in rage and pain when Cathnoma bit deeply into its forearm. Vallen hesitated, wondering whether to help Cathnoma or Talbert and ended up facing off against one of the remaining beasts.

Tegg turned to yell back to get Winstin, but to his horror he spotted another group of four beastmen chasing Winstin up the road. Tegg grabbed Jenk to point out the new danger, then charged. Dar turned when Jenk yelled and siezed an opportunity, with a wave of her hands a burst of flames exploded upwards directly behind Winstin. The closest creature had no time to stop and emerged with its fur ablaze before the blast subsided. Two of the other creatures leapt aside, while the last staggered to a stop with its arms covering its head in defense.

Winstin yelped at the blast of heat from behind him, but he had worked around Dar enough to recognize her talents. He slid to a stop on the loose road surface, whipped around and had his sword ready as Tegg reached him. The pair charged back at the distracted beastmen with a yell. Winstin reached the smoldering creature first and made swift work it, slashing across and cleanly removing its head. Tegg had angled towards one of the beasts that had dove sideways and caught it before it could get to its feet. A stab through its neck stopped the beast in a crouched position. Winstin had moved quickly and was overpowering his target, and when Tegg moved to attack the remaining beast he found it was halfway to the woods in flight.

Talbert found himself stumbling backwards to avoid two of the original group of beastmen. They worked together to prevent him from mounting an effective defense, each striking at his flank, only to dodge his block. As he flailed his sword and stepped back his footing suffered in the high grass. He was also moving further and further from help, and getting tired doing it. In desperation Talbert lunged forward, striking at one of the beast's faces. The creature turned quickly and slashed Talbert's arm. The wound was minor, but Talbert dropped his sword in surprise.

Jenk saw Talbert lose his sword and cursed. Jenk's shot was lined up expecting Talbert to back up one more time. Turning his bow quickly, Jenk clenched his teeth and released. The beastman moved and the arrow flew uselessly into the woods. None of the beastmen noticed but apparently Talbert did, he suddenly grabbed one of the beastmen in a bear hug and turned it so its back was to Jenk. Jenk had the second shot ready, grinned and fired true. The beastman grunted in disbelief at Talbert's attack, then jerked violently as its head was split open by the arrow.

Vallen had little difficulty bypassing the beast's defenses, slashing both arms and driving a dagger into the beast's hairy neck. She abandoned the knife, turning quickly to help Cathnoma, who was carefully dodging the creature's left claws while viciously shaking the bloody remains of its right arm. Vallen moved in behind the monster, reached around and cleanly opened the beast's neck with a practiced slash.

Dar turned back to look for a clean shot on another creature and spotted another beast creature in the woods. It had a sling in full rotation and loosed something at her just as she fired a burst of flame at it. With a grunt of satisfaction she saw the beast erupt in flames, then she looked down at what it had flung at her. There in the dirt was a small ball with spikes all over like a gum seed. One of the spikes was sticking out of her leather vest with a dark purple substance oozing out. Dar carefully flicked the spike out with her dagger.

With a shove, Talbert threw the dead beastman at his companion and dashed to grab his sword. The creature easily batted the corpse aside, but was now facing a swordsman without his partner. Talbert's slashes forced the creature back onto the road and toward Vallen, who finished the creature with a vicious stab through the beast's throat.

Ren woke with a horrific headache, lying in the tall grass beside the road. Dar and Winstin were sitting next to him, coaxing a small fire to burn damp wood. He started to sit up, only to find that the headache intensified greatly and was joined immediately by nausea. “I take it we won.” he said in a croak.

Dar helped ease him back, adjusting a cloak as a pillow. “With no help from you, lazy man.” she chided.

Winstin chuckled and brought over a canteen. “Seems our ugly friends have more than teeth and claws to harrass us with” he said, carefully showing Ren the small spiked ball, sitting atop a leather strip. It looked to be made out of a gum seed, with the small, hollow wooden spikes attached to the normal burrs. A purple slime was still evident within some of the spikes.

Ren carefully took the ball and peered at it. “Looks like they've found some venom or poison. Blast that's clever.” he said, turning it over.

Meanwhile, Tegg, Jenk, Vallen and Talbert were exploring the beastmen's campsite. It wasn't hard to find from the road. They'd walked right past a lookout post before the beastmen had tried to surround them. Once in the camp, it was clear that this wasn't the first time this had happened.

The camp was carefully laid out. A central clearing was surrounded by cleanly dug holes, each just large enough to curl up in. Surrounding the holes were the detrius of a number of caravan raids. Bone fragments, bloody clothing and other possesions were scattered about. Occationally they found a carefully arranged pile of jewelry and bloody innards that they couldn't identify. Lying in one of the holes was the creature Dar had burned. It had made it back to the campsite, only to expire in its burrow.

Vallen steeled herself against the horrors, but every tiny bit of cloth, scrap of book or money hinted at a former owner. Tegg and Jenk checked each hole in turn, making sure nothing would jump out to greet them. They forced themselves to ignore the piles, something that became difficult when the smell wafted by. Talbert made it most of the way into the camp with a grim but determined look, only to rush off into the woods to quietly throw up. Without speaking they finished the search and left everything where it was. No one wanted to touch anything.

It took several days for Ren to recover, slowing their pace considerably. He apologized consistantly until Tegg finally ordered him to drop the subject. They now constantly scouted the woods beside the road, trading turns at their noon meal.

The woods finally broke eight days out from Avendoor. There was considerable excitement as it meant they could stop scouting the woods and with Ren feeling better and the weather improved they would certainly make better time.

In the midst of the excited discussion, Dar spoke up “Does anyone else smell smoke?”

Off to the east, across the fallow fields and hedgerows they could see several tiny lines of smoke drifting into the sky.

Jenk and Vallen circled north and east around the remains of the small village. It had appeared on the maps in Tivar as "Glenhollow", and seemed to been a collection of farms and houses, probably catering to the trade traffic between Avendoor and Bridgetown and providing a central point for farmers to ship their products. Jenk stopped to survey the town from a tree branch, but could only make out the burned shells of houses and ransacked fields. There had obviously been a grain silo, but now only the lowest section survived, a charred circle of wood posts rising up out of a charred landscape. The main part of town was little more than a row of buildings off either side of the "L" shaped central street. Little of that had survived. Fire had brought nearly every building to the ground, leaving a few isolated islands standing with black smudges and gaping holes. A farmhouse on the northern end of town was intact, its shutters thrown wide with streaming cloth blowing in the wind or lying scattered on the ground. Jenk wanted to think these were all curtains or items dropped as the townfolk fled to safety.

“I don't think anyone is left”, Jenk called down to Vallen. She flinched slightly, then nodded.

Tegg had them quickly search some the buildings as they passed along the main street. Bits of daily life sat charred in corners and on tables, evidence of a rapid departure. A bit of sewing, leftover food and overturned furniture spoke of haste. Dark stains on the walls and floors suggested that haste was not enough.

They paused on the main street, each letting flashbacks of Port Redcap wash over. They blocked out the signs of struggle and carnage as best they could. Jenk and Vallen searched the remains of general store, their every step crunching on grain and bits of wood. The entire second floor had been burned, Jenk stood at the top of the staircase, hesitant to test the strenght of the blackened floor. Vallen checked the back rooms, where her nose warned her several times not to investigate too thouroughly.

When Ren and Dar returned from the stables with white faces Tegg finally gave up finding anyone or anything useful and they quickly fled the town. Combined with the slaughter in the woods, everyone seemed to think it was best not to dwell what they'd found and they silently walked back to the roadway and continued east.

Two days east of Glenhollow, Tegg turned them north into the woods. He'd decided to cut across the woods to the west of the Mountains, taking them on a direct course toward the caravan road they'd started out on so as to stop at Sirus' farm to get information and supplies. By the end of their first day walking, the terrain had started upwards into the foothills, the large oak and beech trees giving way to stands of pine. Large runnoff ruts and deer trails criscrossed their path, forcing them to slow slightly before camping near dusk.

Arasen and the young blueward camped at her family manor for the remainder of the week. For most of the week Arasen stayed in a side room, Vera in her childhood bedroom. During the day they fixed the statue, took long walks and transferred supplies from local merchants or barracks. Arasen took to calling her "Bluegirl" and eventually "Blue" since she had thus far dodged every attempt to learn her name.

During the third night, Arasen awoke to screams from down the hall. He found himself standing in his smallclothes at Vera's doorway, sword ready only to find her crying.

“Blue?... What's happened?!?”

She drew him into bed and cried on his shoulder for several minutes, choking back sobs and groans. “I can still see the Tohri's animal creatures breaking the line in my sleep”, Vera cried, “Tarasha and Ben go down, Markon holds them and I rush forward. Never fast enough... I'm never fast enough.”

Arasen sat down to comfort her, and she smiled. “Some soldier I turned out to be. I slay a dozen Tohri animals and I can never sleep”

Aransen held her for a moment, stroking her hair. “I... don't know what to say, Blue”, he murmured.

“Vera... my name is Vera. Vera du Konna” she said softly.

. Arasen smiled, “Ok... Vera.”, he said. “I don't know what I can do... Vera.” Arasen drew out her name to chide her for holding back on him.

Vera sat back and smiled. “I liked it better when you called me "blue".”, she said, chuckling. Arasen grinned back at her and she hung her head a little. “I didn't want to tell you, my family is wealthy and this manor house is... mine. I didn't want people to try and take advantage of me and I didn't know you very well.”

Arasen winced a little, then shook his head. “You know me now?”

Vera smiled softly and leaned back into him, “Enough.”

Arasen said nothing, he simply accepted her explaination and savored the moment. Vera smelled sweaty, her hair was matted against his chest and he could feel her breathing softly. After several moments he asked if she was feeling better and when she didn't answer he realized she was snoring softly. As carefully as he could, he set her back down on the bed and curled up beside her to guard her dreams.

Tegg halted the group at the edge of a treeline on the western edge of Sirus' ranch. He'd chosen this point because it was the closest cover he knew of to the farmhouse and it would give him a good view of several fields. It had been a surreal experience, surveying the farm like an enemy encampment, sending scouts to different points to report back. After fifteen years of wandering onto Sirus' land as if it were a second home, he was now preparing to invade.

Jenk returned from the northern paddock with good news. “Cows”, he said, “maybe fifteen of them.”

Tegg nodded. It was a good sign if Sirus had cows in the north paddock. The grass there was poor, but it Sirus would want to let his main fields recover for the long dry summer and the north paddock got some water from runoff from the hills. It matched his pattern, not something a new resident was likely to going to know.

Sirus nodded. “Jenk, take Ren, Dar and Cathnoma and sneak into that barn over on the east side. You're our cover if we have to get out of here.. Anything happens, get to Bridgetown. We'll meet a days walk west of the road split. We don't show after two days, get back to Tivar. Vallen, Talbert, Winstin, we're going to the farmhouse. ”.

Jenk nodded and the three crept back into the woods while Winstin, Talbert and Vallen moved forward to get a better view of the farmhouse. Tegg reviewed the layout of the house and waited for Jenk to get into position.

Standing with his back against the doorframe to the kitchen, Tegg feld a lead weight in his stomach and ice in his chest. Sirus and his family might be sitting around eating luch, lying dead on the floor, or a room full of Tohri soldiers. With a nod to Talbert, he readied his sword as Talbert eased the door bolt. Vallen was to turn right, Winstin left and he was going to charge straight into the kitchen.

A soft click was signalled his move and Tegg shoved the door open, charged forward and ran squarely into the dining table, upended in the middle of the floor. Winstin turned right, and found an empty kitchen area. Vallen turned left and dropped to a crouch, spotting someone further in the house. Tegg howled in pain, and finally spotted Sirus, armed with a sword in the doorway to his bedroom.

“You big blundering fool”, Sirus exclaimed. “You scared me out of my wit!”

Tegg leaned forward and grasped the edge of the table, relief flooding over him. “Thank the gods, Sirus. You're alive. And you've moved your table.”

Sirus grunted, then lowered his sword. “For now. I won't be for long if those blasted Tohri find you knocking down my back door! You and yours have got to be out of here, Tegg! They'll kill you and me if you're spotted. ”

Tegg rushed over to Sirus as fast as he could limp. “Stones, Sirus. I had to know if you and Alanha were safe, where is she? Where are your boys?”

Sirus clapped Tegg on the shoulder and shook his head. “I don't know, and its best that way. They've left, went to Nira's and the whole lot took off weeks ago.”

“All of them?”, Tegg asked.

“No.”, Sirus said softly. “I've no clear idea what's gone on with Tomha, he was up in the guard and Bridgetown's likely fallen to those monsters. I thought you were mixed up in there with him.”

Tegg patted Sirus' shoulder. “We're on our way there now. I'm with Tivar now. You see..”

But Sirus interrupted “NO. I don't care and I don't want to know. You're alive and that's all I need to see. I don't care who these two are and I don't care who you're fighting for because then I can't tell those whoresons. ”

Tegg winced “They'll be back?”

Sirus nodded, moving over to the window and looking out on the courtyard. “Yep. Not today, likely, but when they want to buy more cows or goats, they'll come through.”

“You're selling food to them?”, Talbert asked suddenly with a tone of scorn.

“Yes boy, I am. Oh there've been those who resisted. Fought them with pitchforks and grain threshers and kitchen knives. You go to Bridgetown and you'll see their heads lining the walls. The Tohri leave us alone so long as we're feeding their army.”

Tegg shook his head, but couldn't find anything to say. “Hang me Sirus... come with us!”

Sirus laughed, never looking away from the window “Aye, that'd be a sight now. My fat hide trampling through the wilderness or wrapped up in armor. No. I do what little I can here and I keep the farm going. Otherwise, they'll set someone up here who won't....” Sirus stopped and glanced back at Tegg.

“Won't what, Sirus?” Tegg asked suspiciously.

“Nothing now. You just remember that I never had any loyalty to Bridgetown, you hear. Not one bloody drop. Everyone around here knows that clear.”

“What are you doing here, Sirus?”, Tegg whispered.

Sirus' face became contorted, then softened. “Just know that if you... ever needed somewhere to hide. For yourself or some friends.”, he paused and Tegg walked over to him.

“Alright Sirus. We'll fight our way and you fight yours.”

Sirus nodded, then leaned in close. “If you can, sneak me some supplies sometime. Food, blankets, that sort of thing” At this, Sirus glanced over toward the kitchen. Tegg thought quickly and remembered Alanha's root cellar, right under the new location of the dining room table. “If you're ever in need, you can stop by for a spell. Theres also Yorm's ranch up in the hills northwest of here, you know it?”

“I know it Sirus”, Tegg whispered.

“He doesn't know me. He doesn't know you. He wouldn't do a nice thing for his own mother if she paid him in gold and he certainly won't hide you and yours for a spell. Understand?”

Tegg nodded, then drew Sirus in to a hug “You're a soft old man, Sirus”

“Bah, begone before I turn you in” Sirus whispered.

“Bridgetown, Sirus... what are we going to find?”

Sirus shook his head. “I don't know. They took an army down there, a big one. Outtown is surely gone. They don't like us to leave our homes, though, and we don't get news.”

Their first sight of Bridgetown proved Sirus' prediction true. Outtown had been looted and razed and the Tohri army now stood camped upon its smoking ruins. Neat rows of tents, campfires and quickly erected or converted buildings stood in large groups on either side of the caravan road with huge banners marking out different companies. Everyone stood silently, trying not count the dead while estimating the enemy forces for the Duke.

“Four Thousand”, Winstin muttered in awe. “Twenty companies means near four thousand men down there.”

Jenk made a dismissive sound, and sat down. “Not four thousand.”, Jenk said sadly. “Look at the flags in the city. Look at the bridge tower.”

Everyone's eyes sought out the tall towers on the far side of Bridgetown. There, on massive poles high above the river should have flown the bridge and waves of Bridgetown. Instead there was a dark green and blue banner, crossed with white diagonal stripes.

“That isn't a seige. They've already taken the city.”, Vallen whispered.

Tegg grumbled and pressed his palms to his eyes. “We have to see if they dropped the spans. Then we can go home.”