Chapter 4

### **The Group Cleans Up After the Fight**

Votig returns to the rhino's corpse to salvage it. He manages to snap the horn off of the rhino, thanks to Oren's previous efforts. The cut edge is a little rough, but it's well-severed.

Minerva limps over to the group. "Is everyone all right?" In a low undertone, she adds, "I mean, every one of us."

"Been a bit better, but ya know how it is,” Votig answers. “Plus I got a new pet! I call this a grand victory."

"I'm alright,” Eliam chimes in. “A little worse for wear, but I'll be fine in the morning."

Minerva kneels to the lizard and extends her hand to see if it is friendly. The lizard sniffs gingerly at Minerva's hand, licks it, and then trots back to Votig's side.

Oren begins slowly working on Votig to patch up his wounds.

The recruit limps over to the group. "I can't... believe we won." He looks over the bodies on the ground, then says softly, "Won is kind of a poor term, though..."

Votig slaps him on the back "Yeah? I never doubted us fer a minute!" he says cheerfully. "Thanks lad. I owe ya one,” he says to Oren as the mage finishes tending his bandages.

Oren begins to wrap a roll of bandages to apply to Eliam's wounds. He takes a knife to cut the bandage into strips, but his hands shake from fatigue and from the aftermath of battle. He moves to slice the bandages, but applies too much force and ends up cutting through the entire roll and embedding the knife in his hand. The bandages are reduced to small strips.

Minerva kneels next to the recruit and places a hand on his shoulder. "You fought bravely. I know we have lost friends, but your families are safe."

"I um... I appreciate the offer, but I'm alright,” Eliam says as Oren struggles with his medical supplies. “Maybe you should rest?" the bard quietly heals himself with a healing touch.

"I'm fine,” Oren says. “Did you just heal with magic?"

"Yeah, I was injured. Do you need healing too?"

"No,” Oren answers as he presses a cloth to his bleeding hand.

The recruit looks at Eliam curiously. "Did... what was that?"

Oren walks over to Minerva to begin bandaging her arm.

"Healed myself? I won't say I'm not great at it, though Oren's the professional. But I can do some basic first aid. Oren, here, let me heal that at least. You're bleeding on everything,” Eliam says, going to grab the mage's arm.

"But... I thought... Our healer can't heal anymore. How can you...?"

Minerva shifts awkwardly. "Never mind that. We should probably think about moving the bodies. They deserve a proper burial."

"Maybe your healer's just been slacking off?" Eliam suggests to the recruit.

"That guy is a fraud,” Oren agrees.

"I reckon anyone who hangs out with scum like tha' Marblearm never had any magic to begin with. A charlatan, that's what he was.” Votig catches himself, and looks over at Minerva. "Not like I ever met Marblearm before in me life, though."

Minerva raises her eyebrows and chuckles at Votig. "Right. Never." And she laughs, a clear and joyful sound that rings out through the night.

"Where did Marblearm go, anyways? I thought he was bringing help,” Eliam asks, as his magic closes Oren's wound.

"That guy and that healer are both awful, they tried to kill me earlier,” Oren adds. “And then he tried to kill Votig and his lizard.”

"Speaking of which," Minerva says as she smiles at the little creature. "Does he have a name, Votig?"

"Just, ah, remember lad. Ya didn't see any magic here tonight, okay? Just go and forget whatever ya think ya saw over a couple nice pints of ale, and think about just how lucky ye were tonight to live through it. And think real hard, yeah?" Votig says, threatening the recruit into silence. "And his name's Chompy. Ya saw him out there! He loves to chomp, ya see."

The recruit doesn't laugh. He looks at Votig dead in the eye and watches his serious expression. Then he looks at Eliam and Oren, who are both chuckling at Votig's words. A nervous look on his face, he turns his gaze to Minerva, who returns a sympathetic shrug. Voicelessly, he stands up, turns away and walks home.

Oren whispers to Eliam, "Why are you laughing?"

"It's Votig!” Eliam whispers back. “He's harmless, for the most part. I don't know why that guy is so scared."

"This was a waste of time,” the mage says. “Nobody got hurt, they just died. And he's just walking home.”

Minerva idly cuts a chunk of meat off of the cat and tosses it at Chompy, who happily pounces. "So, uh... This leaves us in kind of a weird place. I know we all wanted to get to Fallowfield but it's not as though the swarm of monsters will stop every night. And I don't think the town has much of a defense force anymore..."

"Maybe he'll let everyone know who the great heroes of the fight were. We're sure to get a hero's welcome when we return,” Eliam says, ignoring Minerva.

"And if you can heal people" Oren says, looking at the bard, "then nobody will need any doctoring."

"I'm not going to heal everyone who asks. That would be way too much work. I'll heal you guys, but they're on their own."

Oren goes to look at the chef's wounds and consider the freshness of the blood. "Well that's good," he says to Eliam.

Minerva shakes her head. "As much as I hate the phrasing of that, Eliam, I think you're right. If they take injuries every night, it would impossible for one healer to keep up with the damage." Minerva folds her arms and looks thoughtful. "What should we do?"

"We should tell them to come to the inn, and we can help them there,” Oren suggests.

"The citizens?" Minerva asks. "But the monsters will just destroy the rest of the town."

"We'll be gone by then, we just have to help some of them first,” the mage insists.

"Maybe there be somethin' new happenin' in the forest. We didn't face any monsters on our trip back from the wellspring, ya? Why now?" the dwarf wonders.

Minerva scowls. "I thought the point of staying was to help them. Not keep some of them alive for one more day and then bail."

Oren quietly thinks about her words.

Minerva stands up slowly and begins to move away from the group. "I don't know if we should stay or go, but I do think that if we were willing to help, we should try to help them find a more permanent solution."

"They have city guards and stuff, right? And their own healer,” Eliam adds. “I'm sure they don't need that much help."

Minerva walks away and gathers a shovel from the lawn of a nearby building, then moves to the town's outskirts to dig.

"Do you think there were more monsters elsewhere?" Oren asks. “If there were more monsters maybe someone else was hurt. We should go see and make sure. That healer can't help anyone, so we'll have to do it."

The party, except Minerva, walks through the town, finding only closed doors as they move. The streets are clear, and there are no signs of there having been a struggle anywhere else. As they leave, Oren calls to Minerva. "You can round up new defenders tomorrow, and maybe teach those ones not to die."

Minerva glares daggers at Oren as he leaves.

### **Eliam and Votig Talk to the Barmaid**

Oren returns to the inn, and Eliam and Votig continue onward to the bar. The two arrive at the bar to discover that the door is closed and locked, but there is a light on inside. The dwarf knocks.

The barmaid's face appears at the window, white as a sheet. She opens the door and moves to pull them inside, then screams, shuts it in their faces and bolts it again.

"It's just us! The monsters are dead," Eliam calls through the door.

"WHAT KINDA HEROES WELCOME BE THA'? OPEN UP, WE'RE THIRSTY" Votig shouts.

She shrieks through a window, "Look out! Look out, there's a monster behind you! Run!"

"It's okay, Votig tamed him!” Eliam tries to explain. “He's our pet now.”

She looks over the window ledge very, very slowly and looks down. The lizard tilts its head at her. Hands trembling, she opens the door.

"See? He's harmless,” Votig says, reaching down to pet him.

"We have good news. The fighting is over, and we won!" Eliam says cheerfully

The barmaid breathes out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank the heavens. I'm so glad Mr. Cook and the others are all right." She peers out the door. "Where is Chef Cook anyhow?"

"Well... the ones helping us might not have made it. But, I figured I'd offer you a shoulder to cry on,” Eliam says.

The barmaid physically recoils from Eliam.

"We wouldn't mind some dinner too. I know the chef is gone, but the kitchen still works, right?"

"W-what? What do you mean? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" the barmaid panics.

"Well it coulda been worse, is what I think he's tryin' to get at, lass.”

"Oh... were you actually close? I mean... he died fighting. There were a lot of monsters, and he saved the town,” Eliam says, trying to sound reassuring.

"He died a warrior’s death! I mean, ya humans die so young anyway. Why, I doubt he had much more than a few more years in him anyhow,” Votig adds, trying to comfort her as well.

The barmaid looks at Votig and quickly adopts a sad expression. "Yes, he... fought well I'm sure."

"And you know... this is a pretty nice building,” Eliam says, leaning against the doorway. “And someone has to run it, right? I mean, this was a tragedy, but maybe also a night for celebration.”

The barmaid immediately looks around at Eliam with a shrewd look on her face. "Why... why, yes. You are not wrong."

"And we can't very well let you celebrate alone.”

The barmaid immediately walks behind the bar, grabs two bottles and hands them both to Votig. She then walks up to Eliam, puts her finger on his collar and says, "I was never planning on celebrating... alone." The barmaid locks the door, then turns to Votig and says, "There's a casket of fine dwarven ale under the counter. If those bottles aren't enough for you, drain the casket. Just leave the rest so I have something to sell tomorrow."

She walks to the door that leads to the kitchen and says, "My room is up the stairs through the kitchen. I really am very tired and couldn't possibly be bothered any more tonight. I'll just lock the door here and be on my way. Good night." She goes through, leaving the door wide open.

Votig begins drinking some of the ale she offered. Eliam grins, and quickly goes up the stairs to follow her, closing the door behind him.

Chompy looks up at Votig, tail wagging. He trots to the bar, clenches a bottle in his maw, and carries it over to the dwarf.

Morning comes.

Minerva leaves the inn, going back to the work she had begun last night. She managed to dig most of one grave before exhaustion overtook her.

Overnight, Oren has tended to the lotus. The flowers petals have blossomed fully, shining in vibrant colour. There is a magical sheen that seems to course off the plant. Oren puts it into the pouch and put it on like necklace, hiding it under his shirt.

The barmaid sees Eliam begin to stir and rises with him.

"Good morning," she says, stretching. "That wasn't a bad night at all," she admits. "I could get used to that."

Eliam laughs. "Maybe we'll wind up back here on our travels. I should head back to the inn soon, though; make sure my companions didn't break anything."

Votig awakens downstairs, his head pounding in ways he never knew possible. Wearily, he rolls over and tries to read the label. It's a single bottle of Mountain Blaze, so named for being a 75% alcoholic beverage. Chompy sniffs at the bottle and turns his head away quickly.

Back upstairs, the barmaid grabs Eliam's wrist. "What do you mean, maybe? Wouldn't you much rather join me in running a bar?"

"I mean...” Eliam laughs awkwardly. “You're going to be pretty busy, right? We're the last mages alive, or something, so I think we're expected to save the world or something." Eliam manages to pull his wrist from the barmaid's grip, but her tightly-clenched fingers leave scratches along his arm.

"Wait, wait, wait! What do you mean by 'last mages alive'?!" she cries.

Eliam shrugs, getting dressed. "Some guy got freaked out when I healed myself. I keep hearing that people's magic isn't working."

The barmaid breathes heavily. "Don't you see? If magic isn't working and you can still perform magic... our bar could become rich! Do a simple spell for the plebes and they'll roll in and make us both rich beyond our wildest dreams!"

"We could have everything for our babies!" She adds excitedly.

Eliam is intrigued at the idea of easily getting rich, but immediately panics when she mentions babies. "Um... well, I'll leave the planning to you. I gotta go.” He immediately runs downstairs.

Eliam dashes for the door just as the barmaid gets up and leaps at him. She is too slow to catch him and the bard deftly bounces down the stairs three at a time. He arrives in the bar proper to see Votig just beginning to stir.

"I'll meet you at the inn!" The bard yells at Votig as he quickly leaves the bar.

The barmaid stops at the door, unwilling to leave a dwarf alone with her alcohol. She stares longingly down the road at Eliam's retreating buttocks.

Minerva passes the day digging the graves for the fallen warriors. She is joined by some townsfolk who see her determination and assist her, and soon the graves are dug and the combatants are laid to rest.

### **Votig Meets Heather**

Votig walks into the leather worker's shop. The shop owner smiles as he enters the store.

"Welcome back, sir," she says cheerfully. "Here to collect your armor?"

"Aye, I am. Was worried ya might not have it done with last night's excitement.”

“A job is a job, friend," she says, a sad smile on her face. "If there's any chance my work can help prevent more deaths like what we saw last night, I'll not miss a deadline." She steps into a back room and returns with a set of heavy leather armor custom-fit to Votig's frame. "Would you like to put it on here so we can verify the measurements?"

She walks around Votig and studies the armor as he exchanges it for his old set. "Yup, looks good. That should last you a fair while, as armor goes. Do you know how to care for leather?"

"I know the basics, at least, ye."

"That should be fine. You're all set then! Thank you for your patronage. I dearly hope that armour serves you well."

"Aye, I hope so as well. Appreciate it!" He turns to leave, but after a couple of steps, turns back around. "Well, actually, I had somethin' in mind if ya interested in some custom work"

Heather smiles. "I'm always interested in a challenge. What do you have in mind?"

### **The Group Plans to Leave Saloria**

The next morning, the party regroups downstairs at the inn. Minerva eats quietly, lost in thought. She waits for someone to break the silence.

Eliam keeps one eye on the door, just in case.

"Ye alright lad? Ye've seemed awfully paranoid,” Votig asks.

"I think I made a mistake last night" Eliam says, his voice tired.

"We should go to Fallowfield tomorrow,” Oren says.

"That's a fantastic plan! We're set,” Eliam says cheerfully.

"What about the people of Saloria?" asks Minerva quietly.

"Maybe they can come with us?" Oren offers.

"Ah, what’s the rush, eh lads? This place seems to have calmed down enough. Plus we're heroes! Eh, maybe that barmaid of yers will cook us a giant feast,” Votig says.

"I mean, Saloria's great, but hey, what about the people of other towns? We can be heroes everywhere!" Eliam says.

Minerva gently places her hand on Eliam's wrist. "Saloria dies when we leave. You know that, right?"

Eliam sighs. "So what do you suggest we do then?"

She bites her lip nervously. "I see three options."

"First, we can try to repair the wellspring. I don't know how we'd even think of doing that, and anyone who might know is probably in Fallowfield so... scratch that idea. Second, we get the townsfolk to build a wall around Saloria. That might work but it would take months and any more flying monsters would just get over it. Scratch that too."

Her jaw set, Minerva is almost growling as she says, "Third... we get the orcs to come."

"Fourth,” Eliam interrupts, “we let the townsfolk handle their own town. These people are crazy anyways."

"All this woulda been solved if the Lyriad had an army. Maybe start recruitin',” Votig suggests.

Oren pokes quietly at his food.

Minerva looks at Eliam as though seeing him clearly for the first time. "This is our fault," she says in a low whisper. "We destroyed the wellspring. We brought the monsters. We can't condemn these people to die and then not help them."

"Theeey... could... come with us?" Oren offers again. "On a boat."

Minerva thinks. "We could sail up the Sages' River... they could turn for Ushad or for Siraj at their choice. Do you think we could convince them?"

"I mean... even if we saved this town, there's not enough townsfolk left to sustain it. Moving them is probably our best option to keep them safe,” Eliam says.

"What happens then, though? Wouldn't these monsters just keep goin'?" Votig asks.

"It won't matter, by the time they reach Fallowfield we'll be off to Thirshalon,” Oren says.

Minerva closes her eyes and bites her tongue.

"So how do we begin moving the town?" Eliam asks.

Minerva says, "I'm sure this town has a mayor or leader. We'll have to convince them it's time to pack up."

"What about the orcs? Surely they're goin' ta notice a whole town up and movin,” Votig notes.

Minerva says, "Our intelligence tells us that the orcs in outlying towns like these have to report in every three days. If we assume that the group we killed reported the day of the wellspring battle, their report is due tomorrow. When word doesn't reach Siraj, a platoon will be sent here the following day. If we get everyone out of the down and up the river tomorrow by the end of the day, everyone will be gone before the orcs from Siraj head out."

"Can't we just tell them they should leave? We don't have to wait and see what they do,” Oren says.

"Yes," says Minerva," I think that's really the best we can do..."

"We should go before the police show up,” Oren notes. “They'll be looking for us.”

"Ah, well, about that... ya see, I need to stay in town for another day or two. I figure that'll let the town start packin' up, ya?" Votig says.

Minerva gives Votig a slight smile. "And give us a chance to help, too."

"I guess we have a plan then,” Eliam says. “I'm sure we can lay low enough the orcs won't bother us.”

"Aye, plenty of food won't travel well, I reckon. Wouldn't want it to go to waste,” Votig says.

### **The Group Visits Hiram**

Minerva steps away to speak to one of the locals. Minerva walks to the party after engaging in a brief conversation with one of the wait staff at the inn. "She says the mayor's name is Hiram Roze. He lives just up the hill along the street."

She takes the lead as the party advances to the indicated house. The door is closed, but with no hesitation, Minerva steps forward and knocks.

A man with greying hair opens it and blinks as he looks at the group. "Why, hello," he says. "What can I do for you today?"

"We've got a bit of a problem. Well, mostly yerself. You've got a bit of a problem. And it's a pretty big problem,” Votig says.”

“We really do," the mayor sighs. "I assume you are referring to the monster attack from the Bramble? Why they chose last night to suddenly attack I have no idea." He folds his arms and leans against his door frame. "Are you here because you believe they will attack again?"

"Honestly we're not sure the attacks are ever going to stop. Impressive though we were in saving the town, the monsters don't seem to have been deterred,” Eliam says.

"And yer town seems to have its fair share o' cowards. Not enough protectors," Votig notes.

The mayor immediately flinches upon seeing Chompy for the first time, but seeing no one else move, he shakes it off.

"Ours is a peaceful town of leisure. It has always been a retreat for the hardworking peoples of Sylvatir. Our people pride themselves on pleasuring others, not perfecting combat prowess," responds the mayor. "Why do you believe the attacks will continue?"

"Well, it started after the orcs broke the wellspring, ya? And I reckon its not fixed yet," Votig explains.

The mayor goes white. "The wellspring?! They found it?! **They broke it**?!"

"It was terrible. We tried to stop them, but, well... we almost saved it, but in the end, it was too late,” Eliam says, continuing Votig's lie. The others look uncomfortable, but say nothing.

"Damn the bastards," he mutters, and he adds something under his breath.

"Oh I see,” Votig says, making out the words. “Wishin' yer cult was here, instead of the help right at yer door.”

The mayor blanches. His face falls. "No cult would ever give as much to the people as the Lyriad have attempted to give. No group has ever done more... or lost more. Samson's death was a tremendous loss, and its impact is being felt from town to town. If the rumours are true, he fought and gave his life in battle against the orcs, supported by warriors who stood by and let him die. I don't know who you are, so I'll ask: are you the type who will stand by and let US die, or will you give to us what the Lyriad has always struggled to?"

Minerva is white, but she hasn't averted her gaze yet.

"Wait,” Oren protests. “We didn't let him die."

"Ah," says the Mayor. "So it IS you who fought with him. Interesting. Won't you join me?" And the mayor walks inside, leaving the door open for them to follow. The party does so, and steps inside.

He leads them to a comfortable room with a couple of couches that surround a sturdy wooden table, glossy from a craftsman's careful finish. Smooth silky drapes hang around the walls and the receding sunlight beams in through the windows, tinting the room red.

From an adjoining room, he disappears briefly after gesturing everyone to sit, and then returns carrying various ales. "Plans and truths are best shared with beverages, I have always found. Would you care for some?"

Minerva accepts a glass with Eliam, and offers him a quiet cheers to clink the glasses before she takes a drink. She looks a little off, still, but says nothing.

The mayor places two pints on the table, one each in front of Votig and Oren, then leans back with his own.

"Well, now," he says, "Let us enjoy what precious time we have, should the monsters return. To Samson," he says, tilting back the glass and taking a large swig.

Minerva blinks furiously, then steadies herself. "To Samson.”

"How do you know he died?" Oren asks.

The Mayor's eyes twinkle. "There is little that goes on in my Lyriad that does not reach my ears, my dear mage."

"And yet ye didn't know about us,” Votig points out, as Oren slides down in his chair. The dwarf accepts the pint the man offers, but does not drink. Eliam looks nervous, trying to remember how much he told the barmaid.

Minerva and Eliam go to take their first drink. The beverage is in Minerva's mouth as Eliam notices the smell is ever so slightly off from what he would suspect. Quickly, he grabs her arm, trying to signal to her that something is wrong. "Er... what kind of beer is this? I don't think I've had anything like this before"

Minerva swallows and moves her tongue around her mouth slightly to try and appreciate the taste. "Interesting. Tastes darker than I thought it would for such a light-coloured ale."

The mayor takes another drink and says, "Indeed. Our brewers have long been at work perfecting that particular beverage. Do you care for it?"

Minerva examines the beer thoughtfully, then, oblivious to Eliam's signal, she drinks again. "What do you think, Votig? Your taste for ale is far better than mine."

"How does he even know about the Lyriad?” Oren whispers, leaning over towards Minerva. “Isn't it secret?"

"I've had better" Votig says, his drink still noticeably untouched. Eliam, seeing that only Minerva has tasted her ale, refrains from drinking as well.

Minerva's eyes glaze over at Oren's question. In a monotone, she responds, "The Lyriad is known to fewer than twenty people in each city within Sylvatir. It was thought that a stable and secure network of command must be in place before our numbers were bolstered."

"Well shouldn't he have a necklace like yours?" Oren asks.

Minerva blinks and shakes her head, as though knocking something loose from thoughts. "I'm sorry, Oren, did you say someth--" her eyes glaze over. In a monotone, she responds, "Yes, he should."

"Are you feeling okay?" Eliam whispers.

To the bard, she responds, "Yes." Minerva blinks and looks around curiously. Her face adopts a puzzled expression as she asks, "Uh... what are you looking at?"

"Oh, excellent, excellent, most excellent," the mayor smiles gently. "Thank you for your help, you've been most gracious," he says to Minerva. "We know how much the orcs love their ale and so creating a beer with a truth serum mixed in seemed like the perfect way to gather some reliable information."

"W-what?!" Minerva gasps. She drops her drink and it shatters on the ground.

"Incidentally," Roze continues, "Who destroyed the wellspring?"

Votig attempts to punch Minerva to knock her out before she gives too much away. Minerva's eyes glaze over. She manages to say, "It was V-" before his punch connects with her head. She is not knocked out, but the pain stops her from speaking further.

Hiram Roze hears everything that Minerva manages to say before Oren stands up and swings his mace at him. The mayor smiles and reveals a small green stone that he's kept palmed in his hand. A glyph appears below the mayor's chair and in an instant, he is gone. The morningstar passes harmlessly over the seat in which he had previously been sitting.

Votig and Oren immediately follow him through. Eliam moves forward to follow, but stays behind to avoid leaving Minerva alone.

Oren and Votig leap onto the glyph and vanish in brilliant flashes of light. They reappear inside a large hall. Hiram is calmly standing at the far side of the hall. In front of him stand a dozen armed guards. "You know," he says, "I really DO only wish to talk."

"Maybe ya shoulda thought about that before ye went and poisoned our... uhh... Oren's friend," Votig answers.

Hiram shrugs. "I gave you all nothing that I was unwilling to take myself. You'll note I drank from the same beverage. One hour of forced truth, her and I. It seems like a fair exchange."

"Do you support the Lyriad?" Oren asks.

Hiram's eyes glaze over. "I founded the Lyriad. Every chapter of our resistance reports to me. While each town's leadership runs autonomously, they answer to me in the end." Hiram blinks. "Did you care for your answer?"

Oren shrugs. "How do we get back to our friends?"

Hiram's eyes glaze over again. "Ten feet behind you lies a glyph which you can activate with a teleportation stone. It will return you to my living room."

"Just because you founded it doesn't mean you aren't corrupt now. Do ya support the Rorgh?"

With glazed eyes, Hiram responds, "We do not now, have not ever, and never will support the Rorgh or the Elyde."

As Votig continues to interrogate the mayor, Oren steps over to the glyph Hiram mentioned. The glyph beneath Oren's feet begins to glow as the necklace warms up and triggers it. In a flash of light, Oren vanishes. He reappears back in the mayor's living room.

Oren walks over to Minerva and asks her, "Who founded the Lyriad?"

Minerva, who had been clutching her head, suddenly lowers her hands as her eyes go blank. "I do not know. My father was the leader of the Ushad chapter and he reported to a man in another town, but I never knew who it was." She blinks as focus returns to her gaze, and a few tears from the pain of Votig's blow fall down her cheeks.

"The mayor says it's him,” Oren says. He looks around for ice to help tend her wound.

Votig walks to the glyph. However, before he takes the final step, he turns around and addresses Hiram. “The fact ya felt the need ta poison yer own members, Samson's own daughter, is pathetic. I hope yer men here are enough to protect the town, ‘cause I sure won't be steppin' up ta help ya. And once I'm done with the Rorgh, I hope ya know where I be comin' next, because no way I'll be lettin' ya take over.”

As Votig turns around and steps forward, he hears one of the guards in the room ask Hiram, "Hey, unrelated, but am I owed a raise for exemplary service anytime soon?" Hiram's eyes glaze over as he responds, "Absolutely not."

With a flash of light, Votig reappears in the living room.

Minerva is curled up on the couch, holding her head in her hands. "What in the valley hit me?"

"It's probably just a hangover. Your drink was drugged,” Eliam tells her.

Minerva rubs the last of the tears from her eyes. She seems wary. "How long was I out? What happened? OW," she exclaims, as Oren pokes her wound to check for anything being broken.

Satisfied, he steps away. “We should go.”

"That mayor guy spiked the beer with truth serum, apparently,” Eliam explains. “He kept asking you questions. Thankfully you didn't reveal much... at least, I think he didn't catch who broke the well." He walks over to the kitchen.

"Is there anyone in the Lyriad ya trust fully?" Votig asks the rogue.

"Linea has been like family to me for most of my life," Minerva says in a monotone. "She almost raised me as much as Dad did."

"Then we might want ta hurry up and go get her," Votig says.

As he helps her to her feet, Oren whispers, “Is the Lyriad a cult?”

Minerva says, through glazed eyes, "No. The Lyriad is not a cult."

"Well clearly it's worn off," Oren says.

While they speak, Eliam pours what's left of the truth serum beer into a bottle and returns to the group.

"Is that crazy girl at the bar seriously in the Lyriad? Do you guys not screen your members at all?" Eliam asks, securing the bottle in his pack.

Minerva says in a monotone, "I have never met her before, but she appeared to know of us. I have to assume she is."

"So... what are the odds you'd be willing to hook up with me," Eliam asks.

Oren quickly covers her mouth, glaring at him.

With glazed eyes, Minerva says, "Mmphh mmh mphh mmm." She blinks and moves Oren's hand, then asks, "W-why is your hand on my mouth?"

"I didn't mean right *now,*" the bard clarifies.

"Ask her later," Oren responds. "We need to leave, why did you want to stay in town?"

"No, really," Minerva says, taking Oren's wrist. "If I'm under some influence, you need to admire from a distance." She moves his hand away.

He glares at her. "Eliam asked you something you wouldn't want to answer in front of us."

"O-oh." She glares at him, then turns to the mage. "I'm sorry, Oren. I misunderstood."

"It was just a question," Eliam tells her.

"Can we leave?" Oren asks.

Minerva's eyes glaze over. She says, "Yes." He sighs.

"Some custom work. I say we take the leather worker with us, she seems trustworthy," Votig says.

"Votig, go get her then. We'll go get the cart ready," Oren plans. "Eliam, are you bringing the crazy girl?"

Votig immediately leaves to retrieve Heather.

"Uh... no, that's okay,” Eliam stammers, trying not to look too horrified. “I don't think she wants to leave."

Oren takes Minerva's arm to help her walk out. She shakes him off. "Oren, I'm fine. I can walk, thank you."

"Don't be so hasty. You might have a concussion. Better safe than sorry," Eliam says, offering her his arm instead. She looks at his arm, then proceeds to walk without it. She stumbles ever so slightly but stubbornly presses on.

“So much for that,” Eliam says, offering Oren his arm instead. He wrinkles his nose at it and walks away.

### **Votig Recruits Heather**

While the group prepares the cart, Votig makes it to Heather's Leathers. The shop looks empty. Peering through the window as he knocks on the door, Votig sees Heather walking from the back of the store. She opens the door for the dwarf. "Closed for the night, friend. I'm just working on your custom request now."

"No real time anymore, lass. The monsters be comin' back soon, and ya need to evacuate. Me an' me friends have a cart and are readying to leave, at the inn."

A disbelieving smile crosses her face. "You're not serious."

"I wish I weren't, but I am. We need to go now."

Heather laughs cheerfully and pats Votig on the back. "That was good. You almost had me, friend! I'm going to get back to work on your request now. It should be ready in the morning. I can't wait for you to see it, it's coming along really well."

"Damnit lass! This be serious!" He says, his voice rising.

Heather studies his eyes as he speaks. Despite knowing how rude it is, he has shaken her and she kneels down to look him in the eye. "Wait.. You're serious."

"That's what I've been sayin' all along!"

"Votig... Just getting up and leaving a town, leaving my job, my everything..." She is shaking her head at the overwhelming information being given to her.

"Would ya rather stay, and leave yer life? Ye have time to pack some essentials, enough to where ya can start over."

"Where would we go?"

"Fallowfield, possibly with a stop or two before."

She bites her lip. After what feels like an eternity, she says, "All right. We will go."

"Good. Pack up what ya need and meet us at the inn."

"Wait," she says. "Please don't misunderstand me. When I say, 'We will go,' I mean, 'We.' As in, my sister and I. She is all I have left after my store and I will not leave her to die." Heather scribbles down a list of items. "Please, gather these materials and tools from my shop. I will get my sister and meet you at the inn as soon as possible. It will save us time and I can finish your belt on the road."

"Alright,” he says, looking the list over. “Just hurry. No detours."

She places her hand on Votig's shoulder. "Thank you, Votig." And she immediately sprints off in the direction of the pub.

### **The Group Meets Elise**

Minerva is sitting in the back of the wagon, her hand rubbing her head gingerly. The sun has fully lowered and occasional howls split the night. Oren joins her, and begins to tend to her wound from the night before. Minerva smiles slightly and she mutters, "Thanks." Votig tends to the horses, while Eliam waits idly by the cart.

A pair of women are making their way up the road toward the wagon at a fast pace. One of them waves upon seeing Votig.

"Now you won't be the only lady," Oren tells Minerva.

They are each carrying a large traveling bag. Heather carries nothing else but the other woman is carrying a long staff. Heather approaches with her sister hastily and smiles at Votig. "Thank you," she says, as he takes their bags. "This is my sister Elise."

The sisters look oddly dissimilar. While Heather is blonde with blue eyes and fairly tall for a woman, Elise's hair is silvery, despite her age, and she seems to be barely five foot. Elise is dressed in a long robe, reminiscent to those worn by healers.

Elise smiles warmly as Votig takes her gear. "Thank you so much for your kindness, sir," she says softly. "I am surprised more people did not show up to accept your offer to flee the town." Heather shoots Votig a look that clearly says, "Roll with it."

"Can't blame someone fer wantin' ta fight fer their home, nor fer wishin' ta flee," Votig responds.

"We should probably hop up too,” Heather says, “so that we don't delay them even further."

"Oh! Yes, of course," says Elise. She gracefully lifts herself into the rear of the wagon and sees Minerva and Oren.

"I'm Eliam, by the way" the bard says, reaching out to shake Heather's hand.

Heather returns the handshake. "Pleasure!"

Elise looks at Minerva curiously as Oren ministrates over her. "Hello, there. Are you all right?" Oren ignores her and continues to tend to her wounds.

Minerva dazedly responds, "I'm okay. Not looking forward to the bumpy ride but I'm fine."

“We good? Good. Let's ride,” Votig says as Eliam follows everyone into the cart.

Elise looks at Minerva curiously, then reaches out and softly touches her head. Her hand is glowing. "I hope this helps," she says.

Minerva immediately looks up, feeling as though a fog has lifted from her mind. "It... wow, that did. Thank you!"

Eliam looks sheepishly over at Oren. "I guess we should have done that earlier, huh."

"I can't heal like that," the mage says with a shrug.

Elise shrugs as well. "It was just a simple Healing Touch. Nothing that special."

Heather nudges her as she sits down next to her sister. "You're too modest. I heard the town healer can't even do that anymore."

Elise's eyes widen. "But what about the townspeople? Who will restore their wounds if he can't?"

Heather shrugs. "We just have to trust that they can handle their own lives, and for now, we'll handle ours."

Oren quietly reaches over and try to take Eliam's bow. He looks at him quizzically, but allows it. "What are you doing?" He asks.

"Marking it so you don't get lost,” the mage replies as he puts a drop of blood onto it.

Elise looks interested. "What a clever idea! How do you find it when it's marked?"

"A different spell" Oren answers simply, reaching to mark her staff next.

"Oh! Well, thank you,” she says. As Oren moves towards her, she draws the staff against her body and looks at him with concern.

Heather pats her knee comfortingly and says to Oren, "This staff is a memento of our father. Elise has always been protective of it."

Oren switches to mark an item of Minerva's instead. He decides on her Lyriad necklace, and wordlessly reaches for it. She immediately grabs his fingers in a vice grip as he reaches for her chest. "Seeing as how we seem to have added a dedicated healer to our number, I would be very, very careful because I don't have to feel guilty about breaking appendages," she says sweetly.

Heather seems somewhat taken aback by both Oren's actions and Minerva's words, but Elise innocently says, "I would happily heal you if you needed me to, Oren!"

"Can you blame him for trying though," Eliam says, trying not to laugh.

"I don't want you to get lost either,” Oren says quietly, confused by her aggression.

"O-oh," Elise says, completely taken in by Oren's words. "That's very sweet. W-would you please mark my staff?" She nervously hands it over. After a moment, the staff is marked and returned to her.

Oren side-eyes Minerva, glancing at her chest. He turns to give Eliam an exasperated look, and settles back into his seat.

"Woooow!" she gasps. "How wonderful. So..." Elise immediately looks playful. "If I hide this somewhere in the wagon, you could find it without even looking?"

Oren shrugs at her suggestion. "Maybe."

Elise holds her staff up with a bit of a confident smile. "Do you want to play? I'll hide it, and you close your eyes and tell me where it is!"

"If you want to,” he replies, closing his eyes obediently. Heather chuckles as she watches her sister hide the staff in the wagon.

Oren reaches out with his magic to find his blood marks. He detects Eliam's bow immediately beside him. He detects Elise's staff laying under the benched seats she and Heather are sitting on.

He detects Samson's axe approximately three-quarters of a mile in the direction Votig is driving.

"Hey, how far is Ushad?" Oren suddenly asks.

"Did you find the staff?" Eliam asks in return.

Oren points in the direction the party is traveling. “Your father's axe is three-quarters of a mile that way." After a moment, he points beneath the seat. "Oh, your staff is there."

Minerva answers, "It's two days of a ride awa-...wait what?"

"Wow!" Elise exclaims, face bright. "That was amazing!"

"Wait... how did you know that? Did you mark his axe too?" Eliam asks.

"Yes."

"That can't be good,” Votig says, directing the cart off the road to keep from being seen.

Heather and Elise look confused, but don't ask questions. Oren reaches to Minerva again. “Let me mark this.”

She slaps his hand away. "Enough!"

Oren, rebuffed once more, pulls out his own Lyriad necklace and marks it instead.

"You usually have to buy someone dinner before that works,” Eliam says.

Elise tilts her head. "Wait, does that mean I get dinner since you marked my staff? Or does it not count now since you'd already done it?"

"I don't know what he means," Oren says with a shrug. When the mark is done, he holds the necklace out to Minerva. "You take this one then."

"Thank you, Oren, but I'm quite happy with mine."

"Then let me mark it?" He says, frustrated and confused.

She rolls her eyes. "Since you asked, finally, yes." She removes it and holds it up for him. Oren takes it and, finally, marks it.

The party exits the cart and sets up camp. Votig cheerfully sings a dwarven song as he makes a fire and prepares to cook dinner.

### **Oren and Eliam Serve some Ale**

As the dwarf sets to work, Oren quietly pulls Eliam away from the camp by his arm. When they're alone, he begins whispering. “We need to get that Elise girl to drink some of the truth ale so we can question her. She wanted to play a game, so maybe you can convince her to play truth or dare? But you have to suggest it, because they will believe you really want to play so you can kiss her. Also, you might actually get to kiss one of them.”

"The mage one is a little young for me,” Eliam whispers back. “But hey, that gives you a chance! Now Heather, though..."

"She won't say dare then, right? We just need to ask her why her magic works, and if she went to the wellspring like we did."

"Maybe we should just ask first? We could use this later then, or if she refuses to tell us.”

"We need her to tell the truth. She could be a Lyriad spy or something."

"Oh... yeah, that's a good point."

"Talk to her first maybe and figure it out.. You'll know what to do better than me."

The two of them return to the camp, their plan set. Eliam speaks up, "It's always an honor to meet new friends! And to celebrate, I happen to have some of the finest ale from foreign lands to pass the time on our journey." He carefully tries to bring the bottle out at an angle, so Minerva doesn't realize what it is.

Oren casually sits back down next to Minerva, trying to act normal. “You and Votig took the watch last time, so Eliam and I will watch when you go to sleep.” He sits back, satisfied he's explained their absence away. Eliam pours some of the laced ale into a glass, and offers it to each of them in turn. Minerva says nothing, oblivious to its contents.

Heather leans forward and happily takes a glass. "Why, thank you! That's right friendly of you."

Elise smiles politely and says, "Oh, no, I couldn't. I've never had it before and I'd much rather not. Thank you so much."

"You should try a sip" Oren insists.

Eliam laughs. "It's good beer, I promise!" He takes a swig from the cup in his hand, to prove that it's harmless, and holds it back out to her.

"No, really, I'm quite all right," Elise insists.

Minerva stretches and leans back against the side of the wagon. "What kind of ale is that, anyway?"

Eliam manages to say, "It's the beer from the Ma--" before Oren hastily silences him by covering his mouth with his hand. He grabs the bottle, and pulls the bard back into his seat.

Oren grabs a few cups, and fills them with the ale. "He got it from the mayor when we visited him, remember?"

"... The same Mayor who drugged me?" Minerva moves with haste to knock the ale out of Heather's hand. "Don't drink that! There could be something in it!" The cup falls to the floor of the wagon and Minerva looks at Eliam fearfully. "You can't be so reckless with something like that! What if it had been spiked, too? We just don't know what's in that."

"If it had been spiked, we'd all have to tell the truth,” Eliam answers.

"Maybe we should all drink some, since they did... that would be... fair," Oren says as he holds a cup out to the rogue.

The bard leans forward, whispering to Minerva, "Oren pointed out they might be spies. And I promise, some of the people of that town were evil and crazy. This way we'll know about them for sure!"

Minerva hisses back, "Votig trusts them! That should be good enough!"

Elise looks genuinely perplexed, and she looks at Eliam. "I don't understand," she says. "The ale makes you tell the truth but... wouldn't we all tell the truth anyway?"

"No, you might lie that you're not evil Lyriad spies. Or crazy,” Eliam answers.

Oren laughs awkwardly. "He's just joking, he uh, he wanted to play truth or dare. This way everybody has to answer the questions... uhh, to break the ice."

Elise sighs and relaxes. "Oh! If you wanted to play a game, you should have just said so. Can I go first?" Heather looks rather cross but says nothing.

"Yes, but you have to drink," Oren says quickly as he holds out the cup. "Just one sip."

Elise pouts a little. "But I promise I'll tell the truth!"

"Sorry, but those are the rules.”

Elise shrugs. "Oh, well. I guess no games for me tonight." She rises to go sit closer to the front with Votig to watch the scenery.

Eliam shrugs at Oren. "We tried our best I guess."

Oren leans back next to Minerva, nudging her with the cup. He gives her a look fraught with significance, and whispers, “pleeeease.”

Minerva shakes her head quickly, sending her hair flying about. She moves to sit next to Heather and engages her in quiet conversation.

The mage slumps down next to Eliam and whispers, "I thought you were good at convincing women to do things they don't want to do?" He takes a sip of ale from the cup, and passes it to Eliam.

"Whoa what? Who told you that?" Eliam says, taking a sip.

"Nobody, I just assumed," Oren says. "You didn't come back to our room after visiting that bar. Didn't you stay with the barmaid?"

"Yes. But she definitely wanted me to."

"She was crazy when I saw her, she didn't like us. How did you convince her to like you?"

"She was still crazy,” Eliam says, considering the question. “She was happy her friend died and she'd inherit the bar and be rich. Then she tried to get me to stay and start a family, so I ran off."

"You shouldn't do that," Oren frowns.

"How come?"

"It's disrespectful to run off. You should have married her if that's what she wanted."

"I can't marry her. I don't even know what her name was."

"You should have asked."

Eliam laughs. "Maybe. But sometimes, people just want to have fun and never talk to each other again."

"Wait, why didn't you bring her?"

"She *was* kind of crazy. I don't want to deal with that every day. She probably would never let up about not sleeping with anyone else, and then she started yelling about having babies? What is that about? I don't even know her name, she just attacked me." Eliam turns over his wrist, showing the marks on his arm she left as she tried to grab him. "She just inherited a bar anyways, I'm sure she's happier staying in town."

Oren pokes at the marks. "That sounds awful, I'm glad you didn't bring her."

"See? Exactly. Besides, it'd be even more crowded in here with more people."

"That's true."

"So, fair's fair if you're asking me all this stuff. What's with the bleeding in a bowl every night?"

"I had to get the flower to bloom" Oren answers, panicked. "Hey, don't do that.” He moves away from the bard, trying to make space between them.

"The flower to bloom? What does that mean?" Eliam moves closer, erasing the gap between them.

"I had to get the flower to bloom, and it needed blood, I need it to cast spells and the well ate it so I had to get it back."

"Your flower thing... needs blood? Is that normal?"

"It is for this type of flower. It's a blood lotus; they need blood to grow. Hey, stop. How many women have you had sex with?" Oren asks, hoping to distract the bard. He scampers nearer to Votig, and whispers, “help.”

"Hey, what?” Eliam says, trying to fight the ale. “Don't ask that. Um... I think two. Maybe three. Mostly women just get mad at me."

Oren looks at him, surprised. Eliam glares at him. Oren moves back next to him, and pats his back comfortingly. “That's a lot!”

Embarrassed, Eliam takes another drink. “You've been pretty sick lately, so just make sure you're taking care of yourself okay? Don't feed the flower too much and hurt yourself."

"It's finished. I don't have to do that anymore."

"Okay,” the bard says, relieved. “That's good."

"You know, you should probably be nicer to women and not leave them, then they won't be mad at you. But maybe I'm wrong. These women are all mad at me." Oren points to the women in the cart, keeping his voice low.

"Well... we did try to drug them. But I don't know if I trust these Lyriad people, and that town was full of them. I mean, we're just looking out for ourselves."

"Maybe you should just say what you said to the bartender."

"About looking out for ourselves?"

"Whatever you said worked, so yeah."

Eliam leans back in his seat. "I'm not sure it *did* work. Minerva seemed pretty upset. I don't think she liked our plan. It's weird that girl can use magic though, right? I thought no one but us could. That's pretty suspicious."

"She's the girl we saw in the well, so not really,” Oren replies. “I wonder if she went there too. But she doesn't seem to recognize us."

"Wait, wait, that's *her*?! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you saw her too."

"I did, but I wasn't really paying attention to her. Wait... did we just try to drug someone we'll probably have to travel with?"

"Yes. But I thought you knew that, sorry. Was that a bad idea?"

"She uh... she probably won't like us very much,” Eliam responds. “Or trust us."

"Well we don't need her to travel with us,” Oren says. “We're just taking them to another town then we're leaving. Just a few days to Ushad and we can drop them off and pick up Linea."

"There's that whole prophecy thing though, right? Don't we need her with us for that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about,” Oren says, confused.

"I just kind of assumed, since we're the only ones who have magic now, that we're pretty special. Maybe not *the* people of prophecy, but that has to mean something significant. I mean, I've been telling everyone I'm a legendary mage who's going to save the world anyways."

"I don't think I'm legendary, but maybe you are."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. You're one of the only mages left too. That has to mean something about us. Well, left in that town, anyways. But it's weird we didn't lose our magic when everyone else did."

"It's because of the well, I think."

"Maybe... but maybe it was more than a coincidence that we all happened to be there to jump in it."

"You said the bar lady sent you,” Oren points out. “Lyriad cult conspiracy, you said."

"Well... yeah,” Eliam says. “I think she tried to set up an ambush for us. Probably trying to get Minerva and I killed."

"Then why would you sleep with her? Ah,” He says, covering Eliam's mouth as he's compelled to speak. "Sorry."

The bard gives him a look, and repeats himself. "I mean, I was there, she was there. I wasn't doing anything else that night. Why not?"

"Because she tried to kill you. She could be dangerous."

"Yeah, but she was still kind of pretty."

Oren leans against him, sighing. "You should be more careful with cultists."

Eliam laughs, and puts his arm around him. "I'll keep that in mind next time," he says, before they both fall asleep.

The party awakes the next morning to find the sun dawning over fields. The group is a half-hour's travel from the bridge that leads over the Sages' River. Heather has taken what was left of the truth serum beer and dumped it in the night.

Minerva yawns and walks around the grass to stretch her legs. Elise and Heather are off speaking quietly to each other, peaceful smiles on their faces.

Minerva sees Oren get up and leave the wagon, but does not move to speak to him. Elise skips over to Oren as soon as she sees him leave the cart. "Um... Thank you for marking my staff last night! It makes me so happy to know that it won't be lost," she says happily.

"You're welcome," he says politely.

She looks dreamily into the air at the clouds drifting by, saying nothing as she becomes lost in her own head. Heather is quietly working on something a while away.

Oren quietly feeds Chompy some jerky. The lizard perks his head up excitedly as he sees the promise of food. A few minutes later, Eliam leaves the cart and joins everyone outside.

Oren moves to the shady side of the cart, leaning on it and waiting for everyone to gather. He checks the bandages on his wrists, tending to them and redoing them as needed.

Heather rises, carrying an object over to Votig. "I believe your order is done. What do you think?" She hands Votig a large belt with a wide circular buckle into which a gold-lined insignia is inserted.

"Now that's a fine lookin' belt lass, fit for a champion like meself,” Votig says cheerfully, putting the belt on. “Good doin' business with ya. Who was the fella who could finish it up?"

"You'll want to see Rathi in Ushad," Heather answers. "He does a lot of work finishing pieces like this."

"Hey Elise, how old are you?" Oren asks. She seems to not have heard the question, lost in the clouds.

Oren waits a moment, then walks over to Votig instead. "Do you want me to mark your belt so you don't get lost?"

Elise snaps back to reality and responds, but sees that Oren has moved away, unable to hear the answer. She shrugs and walks away, following a particularly fluffy cloud in the sky.

### **The Group Plans after Meeting Elise**

"Yea that's fine lad, thanks.” Oren takes the belt after he removes it, placing a blood mark on it. “Speaking of marks, I feel like we need ta talk about the plan." He calls over Eliam and Minerva, who walk over and join them.

Elise wanders absent-mindedly into the group, chasing a cloud, and stops, smiling, when she finds herself amidst everyone else. Heather plays with Chompy.

Oren gives Elise a suspicious look. He glances at Eliam as if to say they were right about her. She smiles warmly at the mage.

Eliam gives her a distrustful look as well, and she smiles and waves back at him. Votig stands quietly, confused at how to explain to her that he means to plan with their group alone.

"Oh, look!" Elise says, breaking the silence. "That cloud is shaped like a swan. That means good fortune for making plans." She says this with all sincerity.

"Elise, how old are you?" Oren asks again.

"Oh, uh... nineteen," she replies.

"Yeah... sure," Eliam says, disbelievingly.

Elise nudges Votig. "Quickly, now! You must make your plans before the swan turns into a wasp, or your plans will fall through." She stares intently at the cloud as though willing it to stop moving.

"It's moving pretty fast, huh? Maybe you should chase it down and try to catch it!" Eliam says cheerfully, trying to convince her to leave.

Elise grins. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! Come on, Eliam!" She grabs him around the arm and pulls him out of the group, chasing after the cloud.

Eliam does not budge from Elise's movements. She adopts a slightly pouty expression and remains in the group. "Oh, well. Heather doesn't like it when I chase clouds, anyway... Not after that time I followed one into the forest."

"Elise!" Heather says sharply.

"Wait, the forest? When was this?" Eliam asks.

"I think that's quite enough," Heather says, taking Elise by the arm and leading her from the group. "Elise, why don't we let them make their plans in peace?"

Elise sighs. "Oh, very well. Quickly, though. I think I can make out a stinger," she says, looking up. She allows Heather to lead her from the area.

"I told you she went to the wellspring," Oren says to Eliam once she leaves.

"Yeah, you were right. But why won't Heather let her talk about it? Wait... you don't think she saw us there, do you?"

"Maybe she thinks we can't be trusted. That would be smart with all these Rorgh and Lyriad running around"

"Okay,” Votig says, turning them back to the task at hand. “Well, I say we spend two days in Ushad, just enough ta get what we need. We bring Linea with us, and take whatever we can from th' Lyriad hideout. Forcefully, if we need to. And then we cut all ties with them. I think we should leave or break the teleport stones in the necklaces. If Oren here can track us with a spell, who's ta say these aren't being tracked as well? We need ta go rogue." Oren blinks at him.

Minerva has gone completely white. "No. Those people are trying to help. We're not sabotaging the country's only chance for peace."

"I agree with Votig,” Oren says. “Though we don't have to rob the Lyriad. Maybe we should send Minerva to fetch her friend and whatever they need. That way the remaining cultists don't suspect anything or know where we've gone.”

"Ya? You weren't there, lass. The leader of yer Lyriad drugged ya, and after me an' Oren went through the portal after him, he had an entire honor guard with him. Trained men, who coulda been there when the monsters attacked. People died because yer Lyriad wouldn't help. They might not be workin' with the Rorgh and their masters, but they're just as bad."

"That..." Minerva is stunned speechless.

"It doesn't matter,” Oren says. “We're not fighting the Lyriad, we're just trying to get to Fallowfield, remember?"

Eliam nods. "We don't want to let more people than necessary know where we're going. I'm not sure if the mayor did figure out who broke the well, but if he did, we probably can't trust the Lyriad."

"And by the way,” Votig adds to her, “what he used is a Rorgh interrogation technique, he said. Just as bad. Ya want them in charge after all this? They’re already learnin' and improvin', they could be worse."

Minerva's hands are hanging limply at her sides and she continues to say nothing.

Elise is sitting against a wheel of the wagon, out of range of your voices, but still looking pensive and contemplative.

Oren takes Minerva's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry. Everything will be better once we get to Thirshalon."

"Just remember, lad. Anything we leave could be used against us.”

Elise looks at Oren with an unreadable expression.

Minerva says, "I... I need to talk to Linea."

Eliam shrugs. "We can invite her along, I guess. She seemed okay."

"Linea was nice. She can come with us," Oren agrees, nodding. "She gave us vials, and a cart..."

"She might have other supplies for us as well," Eliam adds, nodding.

"Ok well let's go,” Oren says. “We should hurry. If Ishaan is in Saloria, we should get out of here before he finds out we left."

"What about those two?" Eliam motions to Elise and Heather.

"I figure they can ride with us to Fallowfield. I don't want to leave 'em in Ushad with those orcs," Votig says.

Oren walks to the cart, dragging Minerva and Eliam with him. "Let's go." Minerva passively follows.

"But... wait, we have to travel with Elise, right? For the prophecy thing,” Eliam says as Oren drags him along. “I still think that could be us!"

Elise stands up and moves to hop on the cart, but freezes when Eliam speaks, though she is too far to hear.

"Well, go find out more about her,” Oren says. “She's nineteen, so you have nothing to worry about, after all." Eliam sighs.

"I reckon we'll be seeing a lot of fights in the future, lad. And I don't think we should bring her into any." Votig says.

Elise is looking at Votig with an unreadable expression.

The group return to the wagon, completely content in the knowledge that their conversation has been fully private.

Night falls when the party is about four hours away from Ushad. The group settles down to camp out one last night in the plains to the south-west of the city.

"So, what do you think you'll do once we reach Ushad?" Eliam asks Heather.

"Ushad? Nothing, I suppose," Heather answers. "I'll put Votig in touch with Rathi so he can finish the detailing on the belt, and then wait for us to head off to Fallowfield."

"You know, you could always continue traveling with us after that. We'd be more than happy to have a skilled leather worker along." Eliam offers.

Votig plays catch with Chompy in the distance. Oren sits quietly near Minerva, trying not to upset her or say anything unless she speaks first.

Heather considers that for a moment, but then remembers the beer. "Oh. Yeah, I'm... I think I'm good."

"It could be fun!” Eliam grins. “We're sort of a traveling group of heroes, taking care of problems wherever we go. It's a fantastic opportunity. And er... you're both welcome, of course."

Elise looks at Eliam serenely. "One never knows what the future brings," she answers cryptically as she looks out the back of the wagon to the sky.

Eliam looks at her, confused. "So... you're a healer then?" He asks.

"Yes," she answers calmly, "like my father was before me." She doesn't look at Eliam as she says this.

"Oh? So you come from a family of healers? That's pretty interesting! I'm impressed at how good you still are at healing, though. The townsfolk back there were struggling to heal even simple cuts." Eliam chats.

“Yes," Heather interjects, "it is rather interesting, isn't it? It must be owing to her skill as a healer, and certainly not anything else that's ever happened." She awkwardly drinks from a jug of water.

"Sure," Eliam says, arching an eyebrow. "You know, I wanted to ask you something by the way. You mentioned going into the forest earlier. I heard there's a ton of cool ruins and artifacts in there! I was disappointed I didn't have time to look myself. Did you find anything neat while you were there?"

Elise opens her mouth to answer and is cut across by Heather who says loudly, "We've never been in the Bramble."

Eliam looks quickly at Oren. "The Bramble? I just meant the forest to the south. I didn't even realize there was anything interesting in the Bramble."

Heather flushes. "T-there isn't. That's why we've never been."

### **The Group Plays a Party Game**

"Hey who wants to play a game?" Oren says. "Elise, we'll play with water so you aren't excluded."

"That sounds like a great way to pass the time!" Eliam says cheerfully. "What do you have in mind?"

"Ok, so what happens is you say something you can do, and everybody who's done it takes a drink. We'll go around a circle taking turns. So if I say I've been to Ushad, everybody who has been takes a sip of their water. Heather, you start."

Oren fills some cups, and holds them out. Heather takes one. "I'm not sure what to do. I think you should start," she replies as she passes another cup to Elise.

"Oh, that makes sense. Okay, so... who's met an elf?" Oren starts. He takes a sip, to demonstrate.

Heather sips from her cup, as does Minerva. Eliam looks at them surprised, and does not drink.

Heather looks at the group with a sly eye, gaining the measure of them. Then she says, "I can make things with my hands." She drinks.

Elise, Eliam, and Oren all refrain from drinking. Heather looks expectantly at Eliam, waiting for his turn.

Eliam thinks for a moment. He begins to speak, then looks at Elise, deciding on a more appropriate topic given her age. "I can cast some magic,” he says, drinking.

Minerva hesitates, then glances briefly at her daggers and drinks. Elise and Oren drink, but Heather holds onto her glass.

Minerva says quietly, "I can sing." She drinks to hide her embarrassment. Elise and Eliam drink, but Heather once more does not. Oren looks confused as he considers the question, realizing he's never tried.

"I've been to an aether wellspring," Oren says. Eliam and Minerva drink.

Heather raises her cup halfway to her mouth, hesitates, and then slowly lowers it. Elise does not move.

Heather places her cup on the bench. "That was fun, though I don't think I much feel like playing anymore."

"Well the rest of us can play," Oren says. "Eliam, you go."

"I walked into a wellspring," Eliam says, and drinks. Minerva and Oren drink. Heather gapes at him, but Elise continues to sit quietly, not moving.

"Hey Elise, did you get a turn?" Oren asks. "You're after Eliam."

Elise looks at Eliam with widened eyes, then at Minerva and Oren. "That is amazing! I've only ever heard the stories..." but Heather clears her throat and stares at her and she goes quiet.

"Oh,” Elise answers Oren. “I thought part of the game was skipping my turn."

"What? No.”

"Uhhhhh.... let's see," she says. "I can drink water!" She drinks, followed by a chuckling Minerva. Everyone else drinks as well.

Minerva says, "I have a memento of my father." Elise drinks somewhat sadly. Eliam and Oren don't drink.

"Um... I can read" Oren says. Elise and Minerva drink. As Eliam drinks, he leans over to Elise. "Hey, you mentioned you'd only heard the stories,” he says quietly. “What stories are those?"

"Shh, shh, the next turn is starting!" Elise responds.

"Well, tell me later, okay?" Eliam says.

"Okay!"

"I can ride a horse" Eliam says, taking his turn. Minerva does not drink; neither does Elise. Oren drinks. ”Not well but a little,” he adds.

Elise says, "I love watching the clouds float by." Minerva does not drink. Eliam shrugs and drinks. Oren looks at the clouds, considering the question.

"I can climb walls... sometimes." Minerva says. Elise, Eliam, and Oren do not drink.

"I don't think I've done enough for this game. Maybe we should stop," Oren says. "Elise, pick a new game."

"Awwww," moans Elise. "That was fun, though! Thank you!"

The party continues to play games through the night until they finally pass out, one-by-one, and sleep through to morning.

### **The Group Arrives in Ushad**

Around midday, the party approaches Ushad. Elise stretches in the wagon as she begins to see the town on the horizon. "Like leaves on the wind, so too do we fly to our resting place."

Heather shrugs. "I don't know about resting, but I'd be just as happy finding a place to work."

"Ushad is a pretty busy town," Minerva says. "I'm sure there will be work if you want it. You could even restart your own shop. So," Minerva says jauntily, turning to the rest of the group, "where to first?"

"I've got business in that town I need to take care of. As do ye, lass. I don't know if any of the others want to join ya or not," Votig answers.

Eliam and Oren both shrug. Oren turns to Minerva. “We need to get your friend.”

"Oh right! I'm sure she'll be overjoyed to see us all again," Eliam says.

"Yes," Minerva says dryly, "especially when she finds out how successfully our adventure went."

Oren smiles at that, not understanding the sarcasm.

"Exactly!" Eliam says, grinning and hitting her back cheerfully

"Make sure she knows the, ah, truth... eh lads?" Votig says, smiling at Oren and Eliam.

"Of course. I'm sure she'll agree we earned a celebration for our heroism" the bard agrees.

"Yes, quite," says Minerva.

"But wait, she didn't want us to destroy it..." Oren says.

Elise looks at you all with eyes widened. "Are you really heroes?"

Heather tilts her head and smiles. "We're all grateful for what you tried to accomplish... It's too bad the orcs got to it first."

"We didn't destroy it. We tried to save it" Eliam says. Oren nods.

Eliam laughs at Elise's comment. "Of course! We're practically legends at this point. Though we met a minor setback in saving the wellspring, we valiantly fought off a horde of monsters and saved an entire town, all on our own!"

"Well," Heather says with arms folded across her body, "saved it... temporarily."

Minerva shrugs. "They weren't all going to leave and we did the best we could to get them to go."

"The police are there now, they'll take care of the people." Oren says.

"Hm," Heather intones. "Perhaps."

"Of course we're heroes!” Votig begins. “Why, haven't ya heard the tales of ol' Votig the rhino puncher? Why, I remember it like it was just yesterday..."

Elise gawks, and despite the fact that you were certain her eyes could not be wider, they are. "You punched a RHINO?"

Oren cringes at Elise's sudden shriek, tugging at Minerva's arm. "Let's go tell Linea what happened."

"Yer damn right I did,” Votig continues. “Punched clean through its eye. Never saw me comin'."

Elise looks at Votig in wonder. "You must be very strong to be able to do something like that... Do you think I could be that strong some day?"

"Never hurts to try, I suppose. Yer startin' with a handicap though; you humans don't usually have the strength of us dwarves...” Votig continues to tell his tales as the group makes their way to the Lyriad.

### **The Group Returns to the Lyriad**

Minerva leads the group as to the old barn in which lies the glyph leading to Linea and the Lyriad. Heather and Elise will not be shaken, and whether by resignation or a willingness to see them help the cause, Minerva brings them along.

A familiar flash of green light fills the space as the glyph activates. Minerva guides the group in. The cow pays you no mind.

"Linea!" Minerva exclaims happily upon seeing the elder woman. Linea wraps her arms around Minerva, squeezing gently, before holding her at arm's length.

Linea looks at the rogue and says, "You're looking well. Travel has agreed with you... have you been eating enough?"

Minerva sighs good-naturedly. "I'm fine, Linea. We all are." She gestures around to the group.

Linea turns to look at each of you in turn. "Thank you for returning. Can I assume that you were successful?"

"Of course!” Eliam says. “Would you expect anything less from the great heroes? We found the wellspring easily."

Elise blinks at Eliam and says, "Oh, so was your mission to destroy it, then?"

Linea goes white.

Eliam laughs cheerfully. "Of course not! You act like we're the ones who did. I'll admit though, it was unfortunate; we arrived there when the orcs did... we tried to save the wellspring, but to no avail."

Linea glares at Eliam, the look of an angry grandmother prepared to discipline her child. "In what world is that considered 'successful'?"

"Well...” The bard continues nervously, “we did save the town near it at least. Mostly. We fought the monsters off and saved quite a few people."

Heather opens her mouth, then closes it suddenly. Elise begins to take slow steps from the group. She's looking up at the ceiling with a disappointed look on her face.

Minerva says, "We did the best we could, Linea. There were so many of them..."

Linea's expression softens as she listens to Minerva. She takes a slow, steadying breath, then says, "Very well. Tell me what happened. Be clear."

Oren reaches into Eliam's pockets to retrieve the vials of aether from the wellspring. "Where are the vials?" he asks after a few seconds, unable to find them.

"You!" Linea snaps quickly at Oren. "Explain to me what happened, please." Eliam quickly reaches into his pack and hands Oren the vials he was searching for.

Oren holds them out to Linea. "We filled these up at the wellspring, so... it's not that bad."

Linea takes the vials from your hand and examines them. Linea's eyes sparkle a little with tears. "I..."

"Don't touch it,” Oren warns her. "It'll melt you.”

"Yes... Yes, of course it would," she says. "It's concentrated aether. It would destroy anyone on touch."

Heather takes Elise by the hand and begins to lead her down the hallway. "Such things are dangerous."

Linea carefully places the vials in a chest pocket, then says, "Very well. What can I do for you all? Do you need to rest? Are you wounded?"

Oren points to Minerva's bandages. Linea examines the bandages on Minerva and says, "Oh, goodness. You did push yourself a little too hard, didn't you?"

Linea's hands glow as she places them on Minerva's bandages. The wounds beneath her wrappings heal up magically. The elder grimaces slightly. "That was easier once upon a time... Perhaps I'm getting old."

"Does the aether really destroy things on touch?" Eliam asks.

Linea nods. "All living beings are constituted of some quantity of aether. When faced with such a pure concentration of the substance, a body's aether would be... overwhelmed. Washed out. Supersaturated. The body would be unable to maintain its aetheric cohesion in the face of such a massive tide, and would dissipate into nothingness."

"Right, of course,” the bard says, nudging Oren to make sure he heard her.

"Do you know Hiram Roze?” Oren asks her. “He poisoned Minerva and was trying to blame us for the wellspring's destruction. He said he was in the Lyriad, but he's obviously dangerous." he grabs Eliam's arm, and shows her the marks on his wrist. "A woman who works for him did this. She tried to capture him..." Oren adds.

Linea gingerly touches Eliam's arm. "Hiram... Hiram did this?"

"One of the people working for him did,” Eliam clarifies. “He didn't physically attack us beyond trying to poison us."

Linea raises her gaze to look at Eliam in the eyes. She pauses to consider his words.

"He has a bunch of armed men working for him, but they didn't defend the town,” Oren continues. “People died but they didn't show up to help."

Linea turns from the group. Her small hands are curled into fists. Gingerly, she reaches for Minerva's hand. "Is this... all true, little one?"

Minerva nods sadly. "He drugged me, Linea."

Linea's hand tightens around Minerva's. A look of defiance passes across her face as she regards the young woman.

She examines the group and says, "And your friends, Minerva. Do you trust all of them?" Minerva holds her look on Eliam for a time, then turns back to Linea and says, "Yes. Yes, I do. They could have left me to die at the wellspring, but they came to my aid. They fought to help protect the town. When Hiram drugged me, they all protected me until I was recovered. They have earned my trust and my friendship."

Linea places her hands on Minerva's shoulders and says, "Very well. Child, come and listen. Bring your friends." She opens the door to a side room with soft chairs. As she goes, she gestures for Heather and Elise to come as well, and they fall into step with the group.

Minerva, Heather, and Elise all take seats, as does Linea. Elise is splitting her attention between Linea and the ceiling.

Linea takes Minerva's hand in hers and says, "Child, once, many years ago, Hiram founded the Lyriad. He began it as a quiet resistance to offer aid to those abused by the Rorgh Clan."

"We started by offering simple healing and reparations to those who had suffered. We spread underground from town to town, looking not to fight or overthrow, but merely to heal and help."

Oren looks at Minerva, wondering why Linea is calling her a child despite her appearing to be an adult.

She smiles. "Hiram chose your father as the leader of the Ushad chapter of the Lyriad, and his role was to organize us to offer healing and assistance. But... times change."

Linea says quietly, "Hiram lost his wife in an orc attack a few years ago. Since then he's gradually convinced others to take up the axe, the sword, the banner. He wants to oust the Rorgh and Elyde altogether."

"We were never prepared for or designed for combat operations but... Hiram convinced Samson, and there you are. There we went."

"Surely," Linea says, "You've noticed how ill-prepared we are for combat operations? How small we are, how unorganized for real battle. But we were perfect for showing up in the dead of night and bandaging wounds. Perfect for helping a neighbour rebuild a shed."

"Hiram pushed the Lyriad too far in his sorrow, and now we all pay the price, day by day. Well, I say," She softly says, squeezing Minerva's hand, "I say no more."

Oren sighs softly, wishing Votig were here to see his good work done.

"Samson always hoped that one day, you would take over the Lyriad," Linea says. "Well, that's not fair. He already dreamed that one day we wouldn't need one. But if the Lyriad still existed after he could no longer go on, he wanted you to carry on the Ushad chapter in his stead. But now I see that's not enough."

Linea stands slowly, looking at each of the group as she rises. "If we are to offer real hope and real help to the people of our country, we have to start by being real heroes. Helping those who need it. And purging the Lyriad of Hiram's misguided, disgusting cult."

Minerva immediately looks at both Oren and Eliam, groans, and puts her head in her hands.

"Yesssssss" Oren says, grinning at Minerva.

"Not even one word," she warns.

"You were right all along" Eliam says to Oren.

"I told you it was a cult. Votig is going to be so happy..." Oren smiles.

Linea asks, "Minerva, with your friends at your side, will you lead us?"

Minerva begins to say, "I think we should talk abo--" as Elise says, "Yes, we all accept. Thank you for your offer."

Minerva blinks the emotion from her eyes, then nods. "I... yes. Okay. Yes."

Oren looks annoyed, and glances at Eliam. "Votig won't like this," the bard says under his breath. The mage nods.

Elise leans on Oren's shoulder and says, "That's okay with you, isn't it?" She cuddles against him. Oren jumps up, startled, and pushes Eliam to switch seats with him so he is no longer beside Elise.

Elise looks at him, incredibly confused. "Oh, I saw you two doing that last night. I thought you were comfortable with it. Or," she adds, looking up, "are you... together?"

Oren slides onto the floor, unsure of what to do. "What does that mean," he asks, confused. He scoots away from Eliam, just in case.

"You were leaned up against me last night. I thought you did it for a reason," he responds with a shrug.

Oren shrugs as well. "Not really.”

Minerva says, "There will be time enough to discuss what this means and what we want or need to do. I want you all to help me, but I know you have your own choices to make."

"Well we're going to Fallowfield right?" Oren turns to face her, sitting on the floor with his back to Eliam and Elise.

"Yes," Minerva says, "we still have things to do before we can sort out the Lyriad in Ushad."

"Yes... in Thirshalon,” Oren says. “We should go there as soon as we find the way."

"Linea, while we are gone, can you end combat operations against the Rorgh? We need to turn ourselves back into what we used to be." Minerva says.

Linea answers in the affirmative but pauses awkwardly at hearing Oren say, "Thirshalon."

Eliam slides onto the floor to sit next to Oren. "Well, you weren't the worst person I've spent the night with.”

“Oh,” Oren says, blushing as he looks at him. “Thanks.”

"Anyways,” Eliam continues, “I'll go with whatever your guys' plans are. So far it's ended well.”

"You’re not the worst person...um..." Oren tries to think of a response.

"Ah," Linea smiles as she stands to leave the room. "Young love. So refreshing."

"What? No, we're both boys," Oren says, shaking his head. "We're friends. Right?” he asks Eliam.

"Thirshalon, hmm, little one?" Linea says as she regards Oren. "How intriguing."

"Two boys can be in love too. And I haven't really had any luck with Minerva yet, sooo..." Eliam trails off.

Oren snaps back to Linea, ignoring the bard completely. “Yes! Yes, that's where we're going. Do you know where it is? Oh, and I'm not a 'little one,' I'm actually 22 or 23...”

Linea says, "Such things are told of in lore and stories long past. Not many seek to unearth the secrets anymore. Perhaps on the morrow we'll explore your path, too, little one."

Linea leaves the room, leaving the group to engage in what will no doubt be a series of lengthy conversations. The only certainty of what follows will be how many changes face the party as the sun greets the new day.

**Chapter 5**