A Most Clichéd Adventure

By Q

This tale of adventure begins like many others before it. On a trail to a village, three friends stride boldly forth to find adventure…and perhaps a little gold along the way.

Wulfric, a soldier and a rather crafty diplomat, wore the heaviest armor of the group, a suit of mail given to him by his father, and carried a large sword slung across his back.

Gilthoron, an archer of elven blood whose wit was as quick as his draw, wore an elven bow of unrivaled construction across his back.

The last of these friends was the wizard Nival, dressed in dark blue robes, was the only one of the three smart enough to buy a horse.

Wulfric looked at Nival with contempt for the fourth time that day. "Why don't you let someone else have a turn on that mare of yours Nival?"

"This should be a lesson to you about the wonders of frugal spending," Nival said with a sly grin. "Now if you will please be quiet, I am trying to read." Nival cracked open his spell book and began poring over the spells he would need for the day.

Gilthoron rolled his eyes as he spoke, "Yes your highness. Anything for someone as high and mighty as you." At this, Gilthoron and Wulfric burst into laughter.

Nival looked down at his book in contempt. "Shut up Gil."

Meanwhile, in the forest a little ahead on the road our adventurers were traveling, four bandits sit and plot.

"James," one of the men spoke. "I think they are almost here."

James stood and motioned for his comrades to do the same. "Alright gentlemen, stick to the plan, and this will go off without a hitch."

The four men scattered into the woods on each side of the road, and in less than a minute nothing could be seen of them.

"Hey Nival," Wulfric spoke as he looked ahead. "How far did you say this town was?"

Suddenly, a whistle of a noise broke the peaceful serenity of the woods. Nival looked down and saw a crossbow bolt set firmly into his chest. "This isn't good," he said as he fell off his horse and hit the hard, dusty ground.

"Bandits," Wulfric shouted as he pulled at his sword. Gilthoron drew his bow and notched an arrow before Wulfric's sword cleared its scabbard. "Show yourselves, base villains."

"Villains," James shouted out of the woods? "Sir, we are just businessmen, and I think we are about to get paid."

Gilthoron pulled the string back to his ear and began scanning the woods. "Five more seconds," he whispered. Wulfric nodded slightly, showing he understood.

James shouted again. "Now put down your weapons and gold and back away, and nobody gets hurt," He said with a little more confidence after he took down the wizard with one shot.

"What if we intend to resist," Wulfric counted silently in his head as he spoke? "Gil."

Gilthoron caught the signal and let loose the arrow…then another…then another. James fell to the forest floor with two arrows in his chest, and one between his eyes. The three remaining bandits stood from their positions and looked at James' body in awe. The shrill hiss of arrows in flight brought them to their senses.

"Let's get the hell outta here," one shouted as he turned to run. An arrow through his back stopped him. The other two glanced behind them in horror as they were being cut down like so much wheat. Another arrow sent another bandit to meet his maker. The final bandit glanced behind him as he ran and thought it odd that only one man stood by the horse. A flash of steel caught his attention. He whirled around and tried to draw his weapon, but he couldn't grasp the hilt.

Wulfric stepped from behind a tree and pointed his sword at the bandit, "Need a hand?"

The bandit looked down and saw his right hand lying in a pool of blood. Two flashes of steel later, and the bandit lay dying in a bed made of entrails.

Wulfric walked out to the road and saw Gilthoron kneeling over Nival's body. "Need a hand," Gilthoron asked Wulfric with a grin? "Could you be any more clichéd?"

"I thought it worked," Wulfric said, shifting his gaze to the fallen wizard. "What's the verdict?"

"Well," Gilthoron started poking Nival with his finger, each poke bringing a bubbling hiss from the mage. "If he's not dead, he will be very shortly."

"Crap," Wulfric said. "How much money do we have? Not enough to raise the idiot I bet. I got three hundred, how about you?"

"I got two," Gilthoron started. "And these losers had about twenty and some loose change."

"Great," Wulfric said as he threw his hands up in the air. "We'll think of something. Throw him on the horse, and let's get out of here."

Gilthoron and Wulfric gathered up the wizards' book and threw it and him over the back of the mare. A short game of paper/rock/scissors later, and Wulfric climbed onto the horse.

The three adventurers made their way to Silverton, with little help from Nival. They arrived early in the afternoon, and a bustling town greeted them. Every street was full of activity. Strange smells of cooking food filled their nostrils. Wulfric dismounted and led the horse through the town with Gilthoron at his side. Gilthoron felt strangely out of place, being an elf as he was and used to the trees, the city didn't suit him.

"What's the matter Gil," Wulfric glanced at his friend, noticing the tension? "Itching to hug a tree?"

"No Wulfric," Gilthoron replied. "It's just the bitter smell of humanity." Gilthoron chuckled under his breath as Wulfric faked shock at his comment.

The party of three made a beeline for the nearest temple. On the way, a ruckus erupted in front of them. A young elven woman, with a lute strapped to her back, ran through the crowd yelling for help. She ran full speed into Wulfric, knocking her to the floor and barely moving him an inch.

Wulfric reached down to offer his hand, "What's the problem m'lady."

The elf accepted his hand and pulled herself up, "Thank you. Would you noble sirs please help me?" She looked up to Wulfric, who stood almost a head taller than her, and batted her eyes at him.

Wulfric looked down at the small elf and rolled his eyes, "Save it lady. We'll see what we can do." Wulfric handed the rains to Gilthoron and stepped toward the rushing crowd with his hands raised. "What appears to be the trouble here?"

The crowd stopped before Wulfric, and a lone man came from the back. "She's a witch," he yelled as he pointed to the bard cowering behind Wulfric. "She charmed me so I would leave my wife and be a part of her evil plots."

Wulfric looked the man over, and then looked at the bard. "Now gentle people," he stepped forward and spread his arms wide to show them who they were dealing with. "Do you really think that an elf attractive as this would charm a homely looking man like you?"

The crowd broke into laughter and began pointing at the man. "But...but...but...," the man looked as if he were about to cry as he forced his way through the crowd. He turned around before he moved out of sight and said, "but she did. She really did." The crowd erupted into louder laughter and began to disperse.

Wulfric turned to the bard and spoke, "So, did you?"

"Well, that depends," she said while playfully moving a small rock around with her foot. "By the way, I'm Oliana. Thanks again for helping me." She looked at the dead wizard on the horse, with the bolt still in his chest and said, "You here to collect on a bounty or something?"

"No," Gilthoron said as he started walking. "He just had an accident."

"I see," said Oliana. "Mind if I tag along?"

"I got no problems with that," Wulfric started. "I'm Wulfric and this is Gilthoron, you got any money?"

"Well," she said, looking at him in shock. "You do cut to the chase don't you?"

An hour later, after the party of three (plus a dead wizard) had sold their loot from the days activities, they arrived at the temple. The residing cleric took their offering and began chanting. An adept ushered the party into a waiting room where a town crier could be heard through the window.

Oliana rolled her eyes as she spoke, "It'd be nice if any of that news was recent." Wulfric and Gilthoron exchanged a glance and shrugged.

Ten minutes later, Nival came into the room rubbing his head, "What happened?"

"Well," Wulfric stood as he spoke. "You fought bravely, but there were too many. It was amazing that Gil and I made it out with your body."

"Really," Nival looked surprised!

"No," Gilthoron said as he began laughing. "You died like a kobold."

The smile drained from Nival's face, "Shut up Gil. Who's the hottie?"

Introductions were made all around, and as the party left the temple, the serenity of the town of Silverton was broken by a loud yell.

"YOU SOLD MY SPELLBOOK!?!?!?!"

"Calm down Nival," Wulfric said as he placed his hand on Nival's head to hold him back. From his hindered position, Nival's swings of frustration missed by more than half a foot. "We needed to get enough money to bring you back. The least you could say is thanks."

Nival broke free from Wulfric's grasp and panted as he spoke, "Don't you realize I NEED that book."

"Then get a new one," Gilthoron said as he tossed the remainder of the party's funds at him.

Oliana, eager to stop the looks that the populace was giving them, spoke, "Look, I'll help you find a new one. Come on." She grabbed Nival's arm and began leading him to the merchant quarter. "We'll meet you at the inn."

"This isn't over," Nival said as he walked with Oliana. "Not over by a long shot."

Two hours later as Gilthoron and Wulfric sat at the Inn of the Hobbled Horse, a man sat at a table in the corner, sizing the two up. When Oliana stormed into the inn and sat at their table, the man's brow raised just a little.

"That man is incorrigible," Oliana stated as she motioned for a bar maid to bring her an ale. "And if he even thinks of touching my ass one more time, he'll pull back a bloody nub." Wulfric and Gilthoron chuckled. The exploits of Nival were well documented to the both of them through his tales and word of mouth.

So they sat, pleasantly drinking, oblivious to the watchful eye of the man at the back corner. The man began to rise from his seat when the door to the inn opened.

A man walked in wearing what appeared to be leather armor. It only appeared to be leather armor because most of it was on backwards. A thick helmet, complete with visor, covered his face. Straps hung from places more at home in a brothel than on a suit of armor. This disheveled man walked to the middle of the room and threw himself into a chair with the other adventurers. Everyone else at the table almost jumped up and drew their weapons until the man raised his visor.

"Wulfric," Nival said as he fought with the visor to get it to stay in place. "How in the hell do you walk around in this stuff?"

"Well Nival," Wulfric said around his ale. "It helps if you wear it correctly, and where did you get the cash for that stuff?"

Nival stopped fighting the visor and took off the helmet. "Trust me, don't ask."

Gilthoron stopped laughing long enough to say, "Why are you wearing that stuff anyway?"

"Well," Nival said as he adjusted a few straps. "That crossbow incident is not going to happen again, and don't think I've forgotten the spell book." Nival reached into his backpack and pulled out a large book, a pen and ink. He had just begun writing when the man from the back made his approach.

"Hello," the man said as he pulled up a chair to the table. "My name is Alan, and I need the help of some good-hearted adventurers."

"How much does it pay?"

"What do we have to kill?"

"Is there a damsel involved?"

"Kind sir, we shall help you. What is the problem to be solved?"

Nival, Gilthoron, and Wulfric looked at Oliana then at each other. Wulfric leaned over to her and whispered, "You haven't been doing this very long have you?"

Oliana looked a little embarrassed and whispered back, "I guess not."

"Well," Alan began again. "I will pay five hundred gold pieces, half now, and half when I get my daughters necklace."

"So there is a damsel," Nival stated.

"Shut it," Wulfric interrupted. "Ok. What happened?"

Alan looked at Nival scornfully, but continued, "Well, three days ago, orcs attacked my family's farm." At the word 'orc', Gilthoron's ears began to twitch. Alan went on, "We ran before they made it to us. They ransacked the house, but at least my family is ok. The necklace I want you to get back for me is a family heirloom. It was my mother's and her mother's before that. I gave it to my daughter only recently. She is heartbroken that the tradition might end with her. Five hundred gold pieces is all that my family has. I hope this is enough."

"Alright," Wulfric started. "We'll look into it..."

Oliana leaned to Wulfric and whispered, "If that's all the money they have, shouldn't we do it for free, or at least cut them a discount?"

Wulfric started rubbing his temples, "Alright, two hundred is all we require." He looked at Oliana, "Are you happy?"

"Very," Oliana said as she crossed her arms. Alan looked overjoyed as the conversation continued.

"Ok," Wulfric said looking back at Alan. "Where is this farm?"

Alan gave the heroes the directions to his family's house and told them where they could find him when they returned. He was staying with his sister on the outskirts of town. Considering that they also had to sell Nival's horse, the party began walking early the next morning.

About an hour into their journey, Oliana un-slung her lute and began to tune it. Nival, who wore much less armor than the night before, gave Oliana a sideways glance.

Nival quipped, "Well, she is more than just a pretty face!"

"Shut up, Nival," Oliana growled as she plucked the strings. Wulfric and Gilthoron bellowed laughter as they walked.

Between gales of laughter, Gilthoron spoke, "I think she's beginning to fit in Wulfric."

Nival shot them both a glare, "Shut up you guys." This only prompted more laughter.

Oliana began playing and the laughter died down. Everyone seemed more enthused for the upcoming adventure. This would be a battle to remember.

For what seemed like hours, the party walked. They passed many hamlets and small farms. Soon after, the farms became sparser and the hamlets were a scarce memory. They traveled on, over many a hill and into many a valley. Then they spotted it. As they crested a hill, a small, smoldering, building amidst a charred landscape came into view.

Gilthoron looked at the devastation and remarked, "If I've told you humans once, I've told you a thousand times...Location, location, location."

Oliana chuckled, but Nival and Wulfric just glared at Gilthoron.

As they made their way to the scorched farmhouse, all, save Nival, had their weapons drawn. At a small distance to the house, Gilthoron called the party to a stop.

"Orcs," he said, notching as arrow as he spoke. "Two of them. Sounds like they are arguing about a female or something."

Wulfric thought for a moment, then spoke, "Flank them. I'll take Oliana and go this way. You and Nival go to the north side. On Gil's signal we attack. Got it?"

They agreed all around, and as they split up and began moving towards their places, Nival whispered to Gilthoron. "Hey Gil," he said as they snuck through the tall grass and burnt out fields. "Why does Wulfric always get the girl?"

Gilthoron rolled his eyes and barked at Nival, "Would you shut up, we're trying to be sneaky here!"

Voices from the house told Gilthoron and Nival that they had been heard. Gilthoron notched an arrow and propped himself on one knee, scanning the house all the while. Meanwhile, Nival began waving his arms and moving his fingers in a way that only another arcane caster could fathom.

A greenish-gray head poked out of one of the windows of the little building only to be met with a speeding arrow. The orc fell back onto the floor, alerting his compatriots that something was amiss. Orcs began running out of the house in droves toward Nival and Gilthoron.

Gilthoron, firing off another volley, muttered under his breath, "crap."

Another orc fell with two arrows in his chest, and then a ray of the purest light burst from Nival's pointed finger, directly into the chest of one of the onrushing orcs. The orc burst into flame and began running in all directions.

"I thought you said there were just two," Nival shouted over the sounds of the orcs?

"Cut me some slack," Gilthoron shouted as he fell another orc. "You try to track the bad guys next time."

Gilthoron had begun to wonder if Wulfric had gotten the signal when suddenly, from the other side of the house, a battle cry could be heard. A bright ray passed by his ear and brought Gilthoron back into reality. He looked at the felled orc, not ten feet from him, and notched another arrow, but it was too late, the orcs were upon them. Gilthoron let his bow drop harmlessly to the ground and drew his sword. He braced for the impending melee.

Nival, having already cast his two most powerful spells at the onrushing foes wracked his brain to find something he could use. In a split second, he found it and began to cast. An orc closed with him and began hacking at him with his huge cleaver. Nival dodged left and right as he cast his spell. The orc got a lucky hit and his cleaver tore a gash in Nival's leg. Nival winced from the pain but kept his concentration. His spell went off a moment later. Two bolts of energy sprang from his fingers and slammed unerringly into the orc with such force that the orc spun off his feet and slammed into the ground hard. Nival staggered back and pressed his hand to the cut on his leg. He felt the warm blood seep through his fingers. What was he going to do now?

Impending doom crept into the minds of the two adventurers, and they knew that it was over. That is, until they saw Wulfric and Oliana come around the house, cutting through the orcs all the way. Well, Wulfric was doing most of the cutting, but at least Oliana was there.

The orc's attention diverted, Nival tore off a piece of cloth and tried to tie it tightly around his leg. The slick blood filled the makeshift bandage fast and made it very difficult to tie. Nival looked around and saw the battle unfold before him.

Oliana's rapier was caked in foul orc blood. She slashed at another and felt resistance as she nicked his face. The orc growled at her and rushed. Steel flashed through the air. Oliana staggered back from the press. She blocked as best she could, but she realized she was loosing. It was just a matter of time. Then, out of nowhere, a pink and purple bolt of light slammed into the orc's chest, leaving a smoldering, gaping hole. The orc stepped back, clutching his chest as another bolt crashed into his head, leaving it in ruin. Oliana looked across the field and saw Nival, sitting on the grass with his hand pointed in her direction. She nodded her approval to the wizard and moved in for more.

Wulfric, having just cleaved an orc in two, fought with two more of the green skinned enemy. He parried one halfhearted attack and replied with a full swing. His sword cut deep into the orc's abdomen, and as the orc cried out Wulfric kept the momentum of the attack and followed through, into the other orc's shoulder and deep into his chest. This orc didn't have a chance to scream. The daze of battle still upon him, Wulfric looked for another foe, but one could not be found. The battle was over.

Oliana rushed to Nival's side, "Are you hurt?"

"Yeah," Nival said weakly. "I think it's the end for me. You guys go on ahead."

"Oh please," Oliana said as she placed her hands over Nival's wound. "Now hold still." Blue light gathered under Oliana's hands. Nival felt a cold chill move through his entire body. Oliana removed the bandage and Nival's eyes grew wide. The cut in his trousers was still there, but his leg had been mended.

He looked up at Oliana and spoke, "I didn't know bards could cast healing magic."

Oliana giggled a little and said, "Well Nival, apparently there are a lot of things you don't know."

Nival raised his eyebrow at her and gave her a giggle of his own. She helped him off the ground and they began helping Wulfric and Gilthoron search through the remains.

"Hey look Wulfric," Gilthoron shouted across the field. "The lovers return."

Oliana blushed a little but came back with a reply. "Well master ranger," she said in her most flirtatious voice. "Perhaps if you where hurt, I could give you a little attention as well."

Wulfric, between his guffaws, pointed at his arm and said, "I got a little cut here, could you look at this."

They laughed to break the tension from the fact that Nival almost died again, and that the battle could have gone a lot worse for the party. The laughter died down and they got to work searching for the necklace. Gilthoron and Oliana searched the house while Nival and Wulfric were on body detail.

Gilthoron and Oliana came out of the house, carrying the loot from the first orc and began walking down the hill. Nival and Wulfric continued gathering what they could find from the fallen orcs, mostly coins and small gems.

Oliana spoke as she approached, "I think Gil killed the leader first."

"Sweet," Nival said. "Did he have anything interesting?"

"Let's see," Oliana said as she went through the orc's stuff. "Bag, axe, and a nifty looking ring."

"Alrighty," Nival said as he started ringing his hands. "Throw it on the pile and let's see what we got."

Oliana placed the loot on the pile Nival and Wulfric had made. Nival began to channel arcane energy once again, and in a flash his eyes began to glow an icy pale blue.

Scanning the pile for a few seconds, he began, "Let's see...the bag is magic, the ring, and it looks like that's it." The light in his eyes dimmed and eventually went out. "I'll identify those later."

"That's it," Wulfric said as he kicked one of the dead orcs. "These cheap bastards. There better be more of these schmucks." Wulfric raised his hands in frustration. "They didn't even have the necklace. Gil, is there a trace of anymore of these losers?"

Gilthoron looked around for a couple of minutes and said, "Not on this side of the house. I'll go check the other side." Gilthoron hustled over to the other side of the hill, leaving the rest of the party counting coins.

"What about the rest of the loot," Oliana stated? "We could take their weapons and armor."

Nival looked at her and then at Wulfric. He whispered to Wulfric, "she really hasn't been doing this long has she?" Wulfric just shrugged.

Nival tried to explain, "Well, it's not really worth the trouble. Yeah, we could carry all that crap, but it would weigh us down, and do you want to carry that smelly armor all the way back to town? It's just easier."

Oliana shrugged in frustration and walked away toward the house. She commented just loud enough for the others to hear, "How did I get involved with these idiots?"

Nival and Wulfric looked at each other and shrugged. They gathered up the coin they had collected and followed Oliana toward the scorched house. Looking at the sky, they all agreed that it was late in the day, and that they could camp here for the night. Gilthoron rejoined the group about an hour later, just as the three had just finished lighting a fire and setting up camp.

"I spotted some other tracks," Gilthoron said as he laid down his bow and sat cross-legged by the fire. "Looks like 15 more orcs and one human. They have a pretty good lead on us, but it doesn't look like they're far from home. They were traveling pretty light."

"Man," Nival started. "Some people will work with anything. What do you think they're doing here?"

Oliana started to say something, but Gilthoron broke in, "Who cares. They're orcs, and anyone who works with them is just as evil. Kill 'em all."

Oliana looked at Gilthoron and said quietly, "You really don't like orcs, do you?" Nival and Wulfric looked at Oliana in horror and then sighed in frustration as Gilthoron began the story they had heard many times before.

An hour later, Oliana sat in stunned silence, just looking at Gilthoron. Her lip quivered when she spoke, "You really killed that many?"

"Yep," Gilthoron said with a grin.

Oliana shook her head and said, "And all because of that?"

"Those were the best boots I ever owned," he said. "No one comes between a ranger and his boots."

Oliana's mouth hung a little ajar, then she said, "But why the torture and mutilation?"

"That was just a little extracurricular fun," Gilthoron said as he took a swig of ale from his wineskin.

Oliana looked at the rabbit stew Gilthoron had made for them and pushed her bowl away. "I think I'm going to call it an early night," She said as she smoothed out her bedroll.

Gilthoron and Wulfric shuffled over to each other and another game of paper/rock/scissors started. Gilthoron, the victor in this game, rolled over onto his bedroll and fell asleep almost instantly. Wulfric, meanwhile, propped himself up next to a burnt support beam to keep watch.

"You going to sleep Nival," Wulfric said as the wizard was frantically scribbling in his book?

Nival looked up just long enough to see who was talking and commented, "Yeah, in a bit, I'm working on something here."

Wulfric, seizing the opportunity to get off watch detail, slid over to his bedroll and said, "Well, just wake me before you go to sleep."

"Uh huh," Nival said, still scratching away with his quill. "See you in about an hour."

Thirty minutes later, Nival put down his quill and put the stopper back on his ink vial. He was about to wake up Wulfric when he heard a voice whisper in his head.

Discontinue your quest. The necklace is worth nothing to you.

Nival stood up and looked around. His knowledge of the arcane told him that the spell this other wizard was using, and it was a spell, had a limited range.

Nival yelled into the night, "I know you're out there you wuss! Why don't you show yourself, or are you too much of a loser to flex your arcane might around me? What's the matter... scared?"

Everyone around the dying fire awoke to Nival, yelling at nothing. Wulfric drew his weapon, and Gilthoron strung his bow. Oliana got up groggily and began looking around.

Nival heard the voice again, this time with more anger.

You pathetic little whelp, I could crush you.

Anger flared in Nival's eyes, "Oh really," Nival said as he forced the arcane energy around him into a protective shield, "Let's see what you got, slacker."

"What's going on Nival," Wulfric said as he prepared for the worst.

Nival looked at Wulfric and yelled, "A punk ass mage is out there trying to screw with my head."

Suddenly, not fifty feet from the camp, a thin man in robes appeared, casting a spell. "You will realize the power of Korgyn the Arcane," the mage said between his gestures and vocals. Nival looked at the wizard and realized what he was casting.

"Oh hell," Nival said as lightning sprang from the man's fingertip and slammed straight through Nival, turning him into a burnt corpse. Surprisingly, he became a nice addition to the charred building around him.

The rest of the party began to move, but it was to late. Korgyn was already casting another spell. Suddenly, a huge sinuous mass appeared amidst the party. Large, sticky, strings covered them and everything in the small house. They were stuck, and at the mercy of the now approaching mage.

"Let this be a lesson to him," Korgyn said, pointing at the charred remains. "And to you my brave adventurers, I say this. Stop this futile quest. You know not with whom you deal."

Korgyn cast another spell and disappeared. A maniacal laugh was the last of the mage's message to them.

The party began to cut their way free. Some, like Oliana, were having more trouble than the rest. About an hour later, after everyone was free, the webs turned to dust and blew away with the wind.

"Well that was a cluster," Wulfric said to no one in particular. "What are we going to do now? I don't want to walk all the way back to Silverton, and I doubt any of the hamlets along the way can help us."

"I got it," Gilthoron grumbled as he rummaged through his pack, out of which he produced a small scroll of vellum. "The cleric back at the temple said this should be pretty easy. It's a scroll of resurrection." He unfurled the scroll and began looking at it.

"How did you afford that," Oliana said in wonder. "Those are worth quite a bit of money."

Wulfric looked at Oliana and said, "We got a lot more money for Nival's spell book than we thought we would, so we planned ahead."

"This doesn't look easy," Gilthoron commented as he showed the scroll to Wulfric and Oliana.

"Mind if I take a look," Oliana said as she reached for the scroll.

Gilthoron handed her the scroll and gave Wulfric a look of 'This isn't going to work, and we got screwed.'

Oliana looked at the scroll for a minute and said, "Alright, I think I can give this a try. Keep your fingers crossed."

She began reading from the scroll in a tongue that no one in the area could understand. She felt a tingle course through her body. Her long hair began to stretch out and stand on end. Suddenly, she stopped reading. She turned the scroll over to look for more text but saw none.

"Well, that's it," she said as the scroll in her hands turned blue and began to fade into nothingness. "Hope that worked."

"Me too," Wulfric and Gilthoron said at almost the same time. They exchanged glances for a moment and then all looked at Nival's corpse.

A scream erupted from the scorched corpse. The body began to jerk and move as muscle, tendons, and flesh began to stitch themselves back together. Long minutes passed as this went on. More screaming came from Nival's mouth as blood seeped out of the newly formed flesh. Then as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

Everyone, still a little queasy from the gruesome display, looked at each other and then at Nival, waiting for any reaction.

Gilthoron nudged Nival with his boot and said, "Now I know why we have to leave the room every time they do that."

Oliana looked at Gilthoron and asked, "How many times has he had this done?"

Gilthoron was about to answer but was interrupted...Nival's arm had twitched.

Nival sat up unexpectedly and began digging in his backpack. The three onlookers jumped back a foot or so and watched with confounded interest. He produced a pipe and a small bag. As everyone looked at the newly restored, and naked wizard, he dipped the pipe into the bag and lit it with a burning stick, delicately plucked from the fire. After a few puffs on the pipe, Nival looked up at Oliana.

"Was it good for you," Nival asked as he puffed on the pipe?

"Um," Oliana looked at Nival a little surprised. "Are you alright?"

"Feelin' fine," Nival replied. "Just a little pissed off. So what happened?"

"You were arc-welded to the floor," Wulfric said as he handed Nival some extra clothes they had bought.

"Who resurrected me," Nival asked, looking for a cleric? "Did you guys use a scroll?"

"Yeah," Oliana answered. "Gil bought a few scrolls back at town."

Nival shook his head as he said, "I don't want to know where you got the money."

"Probably not," Gilthoron said as he kept watch all around the house for another stray wizard attack.

Nival spoke as he put on the clothes Wulfric had given him, "We need to find a different place to camp. This is a little too open, and they know where we are."

Wulfric picked up his bedroll and pointed at Gilthoron, "Go hunt for a good place, we'll get the camp."

Gilthoron ran off down the hill and into the surrounding forest, while the rest of the party gathered their belongings and put out the fire. Nival proceeded with his tasks with efficiency and determination. He wanted revenge.

Gilthoron returned a few minutes later and helped the group gather up the rest of their gear. He led them off to a better campsite in the woods, west of the farmhouse, away from the tracks he had found earlier. They set up a new camp very quickly, and a watch was agreed upon. Needing more sleep than Gilthoron or Wulfric, the casters bedded down for the night. Wulfric and Gilthoron stayed up a little longer, discussing what to do next.

Wulfric thought for a moment and then spoke in hushed tones, "You'd think by now Nival would learn not to talk crap to the bad guy."

"Tell me about it," Gilthoron said as he stoked the fire. "What do you think about this mage?"

"Well," Wulfric began. "I think he's in for a rude awakening if he thinks that display is going to stop us."

"He did kill Nival though," Gilthoron said.

"Yeah," Wulfric answered. "But who hasn't?"

They chuckled a little, but then it was all business. They set up a plan for their attack and then agreed to a watch shift. Gilthoron retired to his bedroll and Wulfric kept a keen eye on the surrounding forest.

Four hours passed uneventfully and Wulfric's shift was done. He woke Gilthoron, who muttered something in elven before waking up with a start.

"You didn't understand that did you," Gilthoron said as he got up and took his position for guard duty.

Wulfric sat on his bedroll and spread out. "No Pookie Bear," he said sarcastically as he wrapped himself up in a blanket. "I didn't hear a thing."

Gilthoron chucked a rock at Wulfric who was still laughing as the rock bounced harmlessly off of him and off into the night. Wulfric finally got to sleep and Gilthoron kept a diligent watch. The rest of the night passed uneventfully.

They awoke the next morning to the sounds of the forest waking up all around them. As they finished off a 'wonderful' breakfast of dried fruit and berries, Nival pored over his spell book. Meanwhile, Oliana rested her lute across her lap and played a light melody.

They broke camp, put out the fire, and followed Gilthoron's lead to the tracks he had found the previous day.

"I don't see a thing," Oliana said as she looked at the ground and surrounding foliage. "Are you sure they came through here?"

Gilthoron stood from his kneeling position and rolled his eyes. "Trust me," he said. "They came through here, and headed into the forest here."

"Good enough for me," Nival said as he began to walk into the forest. Wulfric stopped him with a raised hand.

"How about we don't let the wizard lead the way," he said as he shook his head. "Gil, you up for taking point on this one?"

"When am I not," Gilthoron quipped as he started into the dark wood? "It is my job after all."

Nival grumbled as everyone filed in line behind Gilthoron. "They always get the glory," he said under his breath as Oliana passed by. She gave Nival a sideways glance and shook her head as if to say 'Men…"

Thick, green trees filled the lush wood. Vines hung from branches and snaked across the ground. Nival thought to himself that it was rather claustrophobic. This would not be the place for a summer home.

It seemed as if they had walked for miles when they came across a well-used trail. Gilthoron told everyone to stop short, and cocked his head to listen to the wind. His brow furrowed, he readied an arrow, and began aiming behind the party. He drew the string back to his ear, ready to loose a deadly arrow, when Nival stepped out of the underbrush, fastening his belt.

"I don't think those berries agreed with me," he said as he looked up and noticed Gilthoron pointing his bow at him. "What?"

Wulfric sighed as he sheathed his sword. "Dammit Nival," he said as he poked the wizard in the chest. "Gil could have killed you." Wulfric looked back at the ranger and noticed that the elf had yet to lower his bow. Wulfric looked into the woods behind him and then back at the ranger. "What's up Gil?"

Gilthoron had a quizzical look on his face that turned into surprised horror as he loosed the arrow. The arrow whistled through the forest, past Wulfric, past Nival, and into what looked like a large tree trunk. A loud roar shook the trees around the party as Gilthoron looked at everyone.

"RUN," he shouted as he turned and ran down the path.

Oliana looked into the forest where Gilthoron had shot and saw the tree trunk lift off the forest floor. She thought it odd that the trunk had what looked like an oversized shoe at its end. She turned to the group to comment on this and saw Wulfric and Nival running 'all out' after Gilthoron.

"Crap," she said loudly as she bolted after the other three. A large club, more like an uprooted tree, smashed down where Oliana stood just seconds before.

The four ran along the trail. Wulfric risked a glance behind him and saw a colossal humanlike figure, at least twelve feet tall, erupt from the forest. It carried a great club in one hand and a large boulder in the other. Wulfric's heart sank as the giant reared its arm back and launched the boulder.

"INCOMING," Wulfric shouted as he dove off the path and into the underbrush. Everyone accomplished the same maneuver with little difficulty, as the rock smashed into the trail. It bounced, harmlessly, into the forest. The giant ran to the newly formed crater and began looking around in frustration. The party remained motionless, attempting to hide from the massive creature.

The giant looked befuddled, and in a broken tongue it grumbled, "An I wasted me best rock on dem buggers." It trudged off into the forest, pushing trees out of the way, and began looking for its 'rock'.

A few moments later, after the giant had left the premises, the party moved onto the path.

Oliana looked at Gilthoron. "What was that thing," she said in short, panicked, breaths? "I mean, it could have killed Nival again."

"I think it was a hill giant," Gilthoron said as he studied the rather large tracks. "I think it was napping when we came past it, then Nival dropped a deuce on its shoe." Nival turned pale, and looked like he was about to be sick.

"Nice," Wulfric said as he chuckled and shook his head. "Which way Gil?"

Gilthoron pointed up the trail and the party proceeded on as they had when they first entered the forest.

A little while later, two orcs sat watch at the entrance to a small cave, playing a game of cards.

"Got any two's?" the first orc said as he looked at his cards.

The second orc laughed a little as he said, "Dat's da third time you asked, go fish!"

The first orc got frustrated and began to reach for a card when he noticed an arrow sticking out of his left shoulder. The second orc looked in amazement as the first orc slipped off the rock on which he was sitting and fell onto the ground. He looked at his fallen comrade and saw a sword sticking out of his chest. He thought to himself as life slipped from him, 'I thought that would hurt more.'

Wulfric pulled his blade from the dead orc and looked back into the forest. "Nice shot Gil," he said as he cleaned off his sword. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, two hours of planning be damned," Gilthoron said as he dropped down from a branch in a rather large tree. "And I think my sights are off."

Nival and Oliana followed Gilthoron out of the forest and toward the cave mouth, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop. To them, this seemed far too easy.

A few moments later, torches were lit and the descent into the cave was on. Cavern after cavern was searched, orc after orc was slain, and in the end, the party stood before a very out of place door.

Nival's eyebrow arched a little as he looked at the door. "In a dungeon I can understand," he started. "But who puts a door in an earthen cavern?"

"Good question," Oliana retorted. "Let's find out." She deftly picked the lock and stood back as Wulfric and Gilthoron prepared to enter.

On the other side of the door, much was being discussed.

Korgyn spoke to a small delegation gathered in a well-lit room. A dark elf propped himself up in a corner, a goblin sat fidgeting at the table, and an orc picked at a hangnail with a rather oversized knife. "I bet you are wondering why I have brought you all here," Korgyn began as he tapped his fingers together.

The grumbles around the room were cut short as the door burst open. Wulfric charged in as two arrows flew over his shoulder and into the orc. The orc stood from his chair and roared loudly as he picked up his greataxe that was propped up against the table. The dark elf drew his rapier and took a defensive stance. The goblin let out a small yelp and hid under the table.

Korgyn cursed under his breath and began casting his most potent spell to rain fire down on his enemies. His hands moved in precise arcane fashion, and as his spell was completed a few sparks shot from his fingers. His brow furrowed in frustration as he looked for the culprit of his dispelled spell. He saw Nival come through the door with a smile on his face.

"Crap," Korgyn shouted as he searched his mind for another spell. He found one that could be promising and began to speak in a harsh arcane language, but it was too late.

Nival drew out a wand from his belt that he kept for just such an occasion. Before Korgyn could finish his spell, a purplish-green bolt of energy burst from the tip of Nival's wand. The mage recoiled in horror as the ray hit him square in the chest. He held up his hand in front of him and looked as it crumpled to ash. He started to scream, but it was cut short as his whole body turned to smoldering embers before everyone in the room.

The fighting stopped as everyone looked from the pile of ash and clothing to Nival.

Nival broke the silence as he looked at the wand in his hand. "Wow," he exclaimed. "It worked."

The brief pause was broken by the sound of metal against metal as the fight resumed. Wulfric and the orc traded blows as Oliana and the dark elf parried and reposted. Gilthoron aimed at the dark elf, but could not find a clear shot.

Nival looked between the dark elf and the orc, thought for a moment, and then began casting his spell. A stabbing pain in his back broke his concentration and he whirled around to face his attacker. The goblin was standing behind him, holding a dagger dripping with a foul green liquid. Nival felt the poison burn through his veins. He tried to speak, but nothing came out as the poison overtook his system. He slumped to the ground with a thud as the goblin tried to hide in the shadows.

Gilthoron was quick to shift his aim to the goblin and loose two arrows before the goblin knew what hit him. The goblin slumped into a pile next to Nival's body.

"Crap," Gilthoron shouted over the din of battle. "Nival's down again."

Flashes of steel filled Wulfric's vision. Finally, he caught the orc's axe mid-shaft and split it in half. The head of the axe flew across the room and slammed into the wall not five inches from Gilthoron who looked at it in shock. Wulfric spun with momentum and slammed his sword into the orc, up to the hilt. The orc let out a scream that could have been heard by the orc guards at the entrance to the cave, if they had been alive. With nothing left to say, the orc collapsed on the earthen floor.

Oliana, meanwhile, continued to fence with the dark elf. She gave little ground, but it seemed to be enough for the villain because he attacked with more energy than she had mustered. Hope was slipping from her when suddenly the dark elf's head separated from his body. It rolled a few feet before coming to a stop at Wulfric's feet.

Wulfric cleaned the blood and ichor from his blade. "Not bad," he said as he steadied the bard with a hand on her shoulder. "Not bad at all...now, let's attend to our dead wizard."

The remaining party members gathered around Nival's body and began as they had before at the charred farmhouse. Once again, screams filled the cavern as Oliana finished casting the spell off of the last scroll. After a while, Nival woke up from the dead...again. He picked himself up off the ground, ignoring the hands held out to help him, and walked over to the fallen goblin and began kicking the dead creature.

Between Nival's shouts, the party searched the remains of the fallen. Gilthoron began sifting through the ashes of the fallen mage and came across a small gold chain.

"Got it," he said as he pulled the necklace from the pile. "I think this is what we came for."

The party gazed at it in awe. It was a beautifully crafted necklace. The gold and silver glinted in the torchlight. From the look of it, it was a very old, much older than just three generations. Nival looked at it with interest.

"I thought it'd be bigger," he said as he took the bauble from Gilthoron and held it in his hand. "I mean, all this for this little piece of junk. I bet it's not even magical." He furrowed his brow as he began casting a spell.

"Isn't that kind of an invasion of privacy," Oliana said as she looked at Nival scornfully? "Even if it is, it's Alan's business and not ours."

Nival, ignoring the attempt of the bard to dissuade him, finished casting his spell. To him, the room was alit in a light blue hue that told him of the presence of arcane power. He focused for a few moments to make things clearer. He began to pick out objects in the room as the blue light directed his gaze. Wulfric and Gilthoron both wore magical armor and carried magically augmented weaponry, so it was no surprise to him that they glowed blue. A book in the corner of the room glowed with a powerful light, and he reminded himself to check that out later. Oliana also glowed a pale blue, but it was different, muffled. He realized that it must be under her normal clothes. With a smirk, he reminded himself to check on this later as well.

Then he focused on the necklace. He was overwhelmed for a moment at the sheer power of the small amulet. All schools of magic were present, and in such strength. This was truly a great artifact.

Nival broke the spell and looked at the party. "Guys," he started, sounding a little in awe. "This thing is amazing. I don't know what it does, but it's powerful."

Gilthoron and Wulfric looked at Nival. "Eh," Wulfric said as he snatched the necklace from Nival. "It probably just makes the farmers daughters look better."

"It's not faint like Oliana's underclothes," at this, Oliana blushed under the stares of Wulfric and Gilthoron. "This is real power."

Wulfric and Gilthoron looked at Nival, then at Oliana again and then nodded to each other. "That's none of our business," Wulfric said as he stored the necklace in a pouch on his belt. "We're being paid to bring this back to it's rightful owner, and that's just what we are going to do."

"For the record," Oliana started, still blushing. "It's not to make me look better. It's a bard thing...you wouldn't understand."

Gilthoron picked up the dark elf's well-crafted rapier and cut into the air. "Right," he said sarcastically. "Let's loot this place and then get back to Silverton."

Nival threw up his hands in frustration as the rest of the party got to work gathering up the spoils of the battle. Before they left, he grabbed the book he spotted earlier.

The trip back to Silverton was relatively uneventful. Wulfric and Gilthoron kept a diligant watch. Oliana worked on a tale of their adventure. Nival deciphered the mage's book and found that it was his spell book. He spent most of the trip scribing the new spells into his spell book.

They arrived in Silverton toward the end of the day. A light rain began falling as they moved through the buildings. They made their way through the mud as people began to huddle in their homes, avoiding the impending deluge.

The party arrived at the far end of town, just as Alan was walking out of his sisters home. He ran up to them with great joy in his eyes.

"Do you have it," he said as he ran to them? "You must have it if you are back, oh thank you."

Wulfric reached into his pouch and produced the necklace. "Here you are sir," he said as he placed it in the overjoyed man's hand. "Now, about that payment?"

Alan looked at the necklace in his hands and began to laugh. His voice began to change as he put the necklace on. His laugh became darker, more foreboding. The sound of tearing seams could be heard as Alan began to transform. He grew in size almost three feet before the party could react. They drew their weapons and prepared themselves for what was to come. The rain fell harder, and as each drop hit Alan, it hissed and turned to steam.

"I told you this was too easy," Nival yelled over the now maniacal laughter that filled the streets of Silverton. "That necklace was way to powerful to be in the hands of a farmer."

"And you gave it to me," Alan said as horns began to grow from his now pinkish red forehead. "Willingly, you gave it to me. The only way I could achieve this power, and you fell right into it."

Cloven hooves split the shoes on Alan's feet in half. Dark, leathery wings pulled the shirt off of Alan's back as they broke free and spread out wide.

The demon swung his huge arm at the party, and managed to hit all of them. They went flying through the air and landed about thirty feet away in the soft, rain soaked, street.

Wulfric picked himself up out of the mud and grabbed his sword. "Is Nival dead," he asked as he looked back at the foul beast.

Oliana looked around and saw Nival begin to pick himself up. "No," she said as she readied her lute and rapier. "But he looks like I feel."

Gilthoron sat up in a kneeling position and notched an arrow. "We can at least duke it out while he is still changing," he said as he loosed the arrow.

The arrow soared through the town of Silverton and landed with a 'thud' in the demons chest. Gilthoron muttered a small cheer as he pumped his fist. Alan looked down at the arrow, furrowed his brow at Gilthoron, and flexed his muscles until the arrow popped out and landed in the mud. Gilthoron watched in terror as the wound sealed up until there was no indication that his arrow had even been there.

Nival, who was also in a kneeling position, stared at the demon with determination. He began casting a spell he had just learned from Korgyn's spell book. Lightning flashed from his fingers, across the distance, and into the demon, dead center. Electricity danced across Alan's body. Blood seeped from burns in his dark, red, skin.

Alan looked at the wounds on his arms and body and anger welled up in his hate filled eyes. He clapped his hands together and the sound of thunder echoed through the town. A large, black, sword appeared between Alan's palms. A foul smile, filled with sharp, repulsive, teeth, crossed his face.

"Pitiful whelps," He shouted as he raised the sword above his head. "You will feel the might of Mordok."

The sword cut through the air and landed in the rain soaked street. A shockwave erupted from the impact and raced toward the party. Once again, the group flew through the air as the shockwave reached them. As soft as the mud was, it still hurt.

Nival jumped up quickly and began casting another spell. Oliana grabbed his shoulder. "Can we run now," she asked as she locked eyes with Nival? "We're getting our asses handed to us."

Nival looked around at the rest of the party. Gilthoron, who now sported a nasty cut on his cheek, loosed another arrow. Wulfric, who's armor was scraped and scarred, readied himself for another onslaught.

"I got an idea," he yelled as he grabbed Oliana's arm and ran toward Wulfric and Gilthoron. "Let's hope this works."

"Everyone hold hands," he said as he began casting another new spell. The party did as Nival requested, all the while exchanging worried looks. Just as the spell was finished, another shockwave rocketed toward them. Everyone cringed as they looked at the demon and prepared to be hurled into the mud again, but it was not to be. A blinding flash engulfed them, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Oliana looked around with a confused look on her face. "Um," she began. "Where are we?"

The rest of the party looked as well. The demon and the town were gone. In there place was a lovely meadow with a small forest in the distance. The sun was setting off to the west, and not a cloud could be seen in the sky.

"I think we are about eight hundred miles east of Silverton," Gilthoron said as he looked at the surrounding countryside.

"Damn," Oliana quipped. "You are good." Gilthoron just shrugged at the compliment.

"What just happened," Wulfric asked as he looked at Nival? "What about the demon?"

"Sorry," Nival said as he looked at the setting sun. "I had to think fast, and this was the best I could come up with. It'll be dark soon, how about we camp here?"

Oliana and Gilthoron just shrugged at Wulfric, who raised his hands in reserved frustration. Nival sat in his normal camping position, cross-legged with his book in his lap. Oliana sat as well and tuned her lute. Gilthoron and Wulfric gave up and began walking toward the forest to gather some firewood.

Nival cracked open his spell book to the page with the spell on it that he had just cast. He dipped his quill into the ink and crossed out what he had previously written at the top of the page. Above the crossed out script, he wrote a single word. 'Teleport.'

The End.