HISTORY OF THE FATEFUL COIN

   C H A P T E R   2   

The light of day broke through the forest and flooded across Jaycen's motionless body. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around for a moment in a confused daze, not quite sure where he was or how he got there. The events of the previous night seemed all a blur, but as he regained his bearings they slowly took shape and came into focus again. The harsh reality of his situation hit him and he realized that he had not been having some horrible dream. It was all real. His foster father was dead. He was alone and lost. And somebody had taken a very personal interest in seeking his death.

With a weary groan he slowly sat up, picking the branches and leaves out of his armor, and glanced around to survey his surroundings. Everything looked different in the daylight and he had no idea where he was. He made a quick assessment of his physical condition. His mouth was dry as a desert, nearly every muscle ached, and he had bruises everywhere. All things considered, though, he was in pretty good shape and didn't appear to have any serious injuries. His armor was still in good repair, but he had no idea where his bow or broadsword had gone. He must have dropped them during his flight.

So, he was lost and defenseless, but at least he was still alive. Now, he would have to figure out how to stay alive. He knew he would not last long on his own with his meager equipment, even if he managed to find his weapons. Then he remembered what Gorion had told him the previous day. He had to make his way to the Friendly Arm Inn and find Gorion's friends--Khalid and Jaheira. Perhaps they could explain what had just happened, or at very least offer him sanctuary.

As he pulled himself to his feet he nearly jumped out of his skin as a high pitched voice called out to him from above. "Well, good morning sleepy-head!"

Jaycen spun around, instinctually reaching for his non-existent sword, and tripped over a loose vine that caused him to fall clumsily back to the ground. Imoen jumped out of the tree she had been hiding in and skipped over to him, giggling all the while.

Anger burned in Jaycen's eyes as he shouted at the young girl. "Imoen! How many times have I told you not to..." The anger quickly faded away as he suddenly realized that she was out here in the middle of the forest with him. "Wait second. What are you doing here?"

The young girl responded with a bright smile and an impish little laugh. "Sorry I followed you guys, but I never get out of Candlekeep. And those monks are such a bore. Never any decent coin in their pockets neither." Her playful smile faded into a slight frown as she tenderly placed her hand on his shoulder. "I...I saw what happened last night and I'm so sorry. I kind of figured you guys might get into trouble but I had no idea...I...Jaycen, I'm just so, so sorry." She gently wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tender hug, as much to ease her own pain as his.

While he appreciated Imoen's sympathy, there were other matters that demanded his more immediate attention. He gently pulled her away so he could look her straight in the eyes. "Imoen, did you know something about this? You mentioned seeing a letter on Gorion's desk yesterday and just now you said that you thought we might get into trouble."

Shuffling her foot around nervously, Imoen look away, trying hard not to make eye contact with him. "Um...well, I...I might have seen a...I mean I think I could have..."

Obviously the mischievous little pixie had been nosing around where she shouldn't again. But that didn't matter now. What did matter was that she might have some information about what transpired last night. Jaycen grabbed her chin and gently forced her to look at him. "Imoen, if you know something then you need to tell me. Right now I don't really care how you got your information. I just need to know what's going on here."

The tone of Jaycen's voice told Imoen that she needed to be straight forward with him. He wasn't in the mood for any of her games. She swallowed hard and nodded as she replied. "Well, I don't know too much. I read a letter on Gorion's desk the other day that seemed to indicate you guys were in some sort of trouble with someone. Whoever wrote the letter was pretty insistent that Gorion needed to take you and leave the keep real quick-like. I didn't get much further than that, but Gorion might still have the letter with...I mean, it might still be on his..." She lowered her eyes and her voice dropped to near a whisper. "It might still be on his body."

Jaycen clenched his eyes, choking back the tears. He didn't want to see the slain remains of his foster father, but he knew he had to return to the site of last night's battle. Not only to search for this note Imoen mentioned, but also to give Gorion a proper burial.

Sensing his mood, Imoen quickly regained her chipper spirit. "Anyway," she beamed, "I'm not about to let you wander around out here all by yourself. You could get in a lot of trouble and you need all the help you can get." The words didn't seem to have any effect on Jaycen, who simply sighed and turned away. But Imoen wasn't going to give up that easy. She skipped around front of him and squeezed his arm. "Never let a friend down, I always say." Still not getting the reaction she was hoping for, she bent down to look up at Jaycen's hung head and gave him the biggest smile she could manage. "I'll stay with ya ‘til you say otherwise. Through thick and thin."

Just what he needed, a mischievous and blissfully naive little imp following him around like a lost puppy. His first inclination was to send her back to Candlekeep. It was far too dangerous out here, even without his current concerns, and she'd probably just slow him down. He had enough problems of his own without worrying about keeping her out of trouble too. But as he looked up to tell her he caught sight of her sweet, baby blue eyes and her cheery smile and the words suddenly stuck in his throat. His entire world had been thrown into disarray. He was lost, confused, and scared. Nothing seemed to make sense any more. But he was sure of one thing. As annoying as she could be, this girl was a true friend and she would stick by his side no matter what path he took. The whole world could turn against him, but Imoen would be there watching his back and giving him a smile when he needed it the most.

Sensing that Jaycen might need just a little more encouragement, Imoen leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the nose, then giggled playfully. Jaycen rolled his eyes at her childish antics. "Alright, alright! You can come with me."

"Yea!" Imoen cheered as she clapped her hands excitedly. "This is gonna be so much fun! It'll be just like when we were kids and we pretended like we were going off on great adventures. Remember when we used to do that, Jaycen? Remember how we used to pretend that we were going off to fight dragons and stuff? Do you think we'll fight a dragon, Jaycen? I bet we could take one on. You'd whack him with your big ol' sword and I'd cut him down to size with my bow! Turn him into a big ol' pincushion, I would!"

A dragon?! As if that giant, magic-resistant, spiky armored guy wasn't bad enough. Now this girl wants to go pick a fight with a dragon? Cocking an eyebrow at her, Jaycen turn away and started to wander back into the forest. "I'd really prefer not to fight any dragons, Imoen."

She skipped off after him, continuing to babble incessantly. "Aw, common. Where's your sense of adventure?" Probably back in Candlekeep, Jaycen thought, along with her better judgement and common sense. "Well, if you don't want to fight any dragons maybe we could take on a wyvern. Wyverns are kind of like little dragons, ya know. Except they've got these big barbed tails..."

"Yes, Imoen, I know what a wyvern is. And I'd rather stay away from them too."

"Geesh. You're pretty wimpy for a paladin."

Jaycen sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

Jaycen was completely disoriented, but Imoen seemed to be quite good at finding her way around in the forest. In just a few minutes she had found his sword and bow and soon had them heading back in the direction of last night's battle.

Within an hour they reached the spot. Jaycen knew what he would find, but he still cried out in agony at the sight of Gorion's corpse lying on the cold earth. Dried blood stained his robes and his chest cavity was split wide open. A twisted and painful expression was frozen on Gorion's face as his eyes stared vacantly into oblivion.

Imoen gasped in horror and quickly turned away from the mutilated remains of what had once been the closest thing she ever had to a real father. A sharp pain shot through her hands and knees. It took her a few seconds to realize she had fallen to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could, desperately trying to push out the terrible vision that had now etched itself in her mind. "Why?" she whispered through her tears. "Why would anyone want to do this to such a kind, old man?"

Jaycen collapsed next to the lifeless body and cradled his foster father in his arms, weeping softly. "Father, I...I'm so sorry father. I failed you. I failed you, father."

Imoen ran forward and hugged Jaycen from behind. As much as it hurt inside, she knew she had to be strong for him. "Jaycen, no," she whispered, choking back her own tears. "You did all you could. You did all anybody could. If you stayed here you'd be dead to. And then Gorion's death would be in vain. There was nothing you could have done." Hugging him tightly, she continued to whisper softly to him. "Jaycen, I know you were a lot closer to Gorion than I was. I can't even begin to understand the bond you had with him. If you want someone to talk with, or if you want someone to listen to you, or if you just want a shoulder to cry on, I want you to know I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

"I'd just like to be alone for a few minutes," Jaycen said. "So I can...so I can say goodbye."

Imoen nodded in understanding and quietly walked away.

"You've taught me well, father," Jaycen whispered. "Your death shall not be in vain. I swear, I shall find your killer and bring him to justice. I will not fail you again." He looked up with a sense of determination and resolve and repeated his vow. "I swear, I will not fail you again."

Imoen helped Jaycen dig a grave then filled it in when Gorion's body had been laid to rest and the proper prayers had been made. Jaycen knelt there looking down at the mound of earth, unable to walk away. The events of the previous night played over and over in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder--what if he had stayed? What if?

"Come on, Jaycen," Imoen whispered as she squeezed his arm. "It's time to move on." He nodded sadly, rose to his feet, and picked up the robe he had removed from Gorion's body before burying it.

Jaycen searched the pockets in the robe and, as Imoen predicted, he found the letter she saw. He unrolled the crinkled scroll of parchment and read through it. It seemed to give more questions than answers:

Imoen stood on her tip-toes and peered over Jaycen's shoulder, reading through the letter herself. "E?" she asked. "Who's E?"

"I don't know," Jaycen replied, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't ever remember Gorion talking about anybody called E. Or anybody who's name even started with an E."

Imoen shrugged. "Well, regardless of who this E guy is, it's pretty obvious that somebody's pretty honked off with you. What are we gonna to do?"

Looking up thoughtfully, Jaycen replied, "Well, before we left Candlekeep yesterday, Gorion said that if anything happened to him that I should make my way to the Friendly Arm Inn and find these two warrior friends of his named Khalid and Jaheira. This letter talks about them too. So, it seems to me that's the best course of action." He sighed and shrugged. "Heck, that seems like our only course of action now. Without Gorion we'd never be allowed back into Candlekeep, what with the entrance rules and all. Unless you happen to have a book of exceptional value on you."

Imoen pretended to fish around in her pockets, then looked up to Jaycen and smiled. "Nope. But...uh...I got plenty of pocket fuzz."

He rolled his eyes at the young girl. "Well, if Candlekeep ever changes their policies to allow entrance to anyone with pocket fuzz of exceptional value then I guess we'll be set." He rose to his feet and gathered his belongings. "Come on, Imoen. Looks like we're going to the Friendly Arm Inn."

Imoen smiled back hopefully. "Do they have any dragons there?"

Why must she always act so immature? "Well, no. But maybe we could find somebody who could tell you a story about a dragon or something."

"Good enough for me," Imoen beamed as she jumped to her feet and set off into the forest.

As he turned to follow her, the sun's reflection off a shinny object a few yards away caught Jaycen's eye. He walked over to the spot and bent down to take a closer look. It was Gorion's dagger. He picked up the blade and slowly turned it over in his hand. It was finely crafted with elaborate etchings engraved on the hilt. The blade was well polished and reflected the sunlight with a vibrant glow. As he continued to turn the blade over he caught sight of his own reflection on the shimmering surface. Jaycen stood transfixed for several long moments as the image in the blade, surrounded by a halo of sunlight, stared back at him.

Eventually Imoen yelled to him, "Come on! I wanna hear some dragon stories!"

"I'm right behind you," Jaycen called back. He slipped the dagger into his belt and followed off after her.

Within a few hours Imoen led them out of the forest to the Lion's Way Road, which was really more of a poorly maintained dirt trail through the middle of the wilderness. It did, however, serve to guide travelers through the vast expanse of forests and prairies that lay between the small hamlets in the area. After they had oriented themselves on the trail Imoen reached into her nap sack and pulled out a small map that she had brought with her from the keep.

"I think we're somewhere around here," Imoen said, pointing to a spot on the map. Jaycen had no idea how she was able to figure that out since there were no visible landmarks around them. "If we keep following the Lion's Way east we'll eventually meet up with the Coast Way Road. We can take that north to the Friendly Arm Inn." She wrinkled her nose and frowned a bit as she studied her map. "Hmm. I don't think we'll be able to get there by tonight. And there aren't any other settlements near by. We may have to sleep outside again."

Jaycen didn't like the sound of that. "I'd rather not chance sleeping out here again," he said. "It might be better if we just pressed on through the night."

Imoen shook her head. "No way. Not with all the stories about brigands and bandits I've been hearing. Most of the bandit gangs stick to the main roads at night so they can ambush caravans and travelers who're crazy enough to travel after dark. Nah. We'd be better off traveling until dusk then setting up camp a little ways into the forest. Far enough away that we couldn't be spotted from the road, but not so far that we risk stumbling into any of the nasty beasties that live deep in the woods. We can dig a small pit two or three feet deep and build a fire in it. That'll make it less visible from the distance but we'll still be able to catch the heat rising out of it to keep warm. And these trees around here have some pretty sturdy branches with thick leaves. We can use those to build a makeshift shelter if it starts to rain again."

Jaycen was quite impressed by Imoen's wilderness survival skills. "Where did you learn all this stuff?" he asked.

Imoen just smiled and winked at him. "A girl's got'ta know how to take care of herself."

Indeed, Imoen seemed to be quite prepared to take care of herself. She had a bow slung across her back and a quiver of about two dozen arrows strapped to her left hip. From her right hip hung a small sword in a leather sheath and her belt had several small pouches containing various strings, wires, lock picks, and hooks. As she moved her nap sack around Jaycen could hear various clinks and clanks that sounded like small glass bottles knocking together. It was quite obvious that her decision to leave Candlekeep and follow after he and Gorion was not done on a spur of the moment. Unfortunately, she really didn't have any kind of protective gear with her. She was wearing little more than a tight fitting, pink and purple cotton body suit which, despite showing off her shapely figure in a rather flattering manner, offered virtually no protection against the swipe of a sword or a stray arrow. Of course, Imoen had lightning quick reflexes and could probably dodge out of the way of any serious threat. And Jaycen just couldn't picture her wearing any kind of heavy armor. The thought of little Imoen in a suit of full platemail made him chuckle to himself.

A few minutes later the two were on their way again following the Lion's Way Road as it snaked its way through the forests of the Sword Coast. After a few hours they caught sight of another traveler coming up the road from the opposite direction. They approached cautiously at first but relaxed a bit when they realized he was alone and appeared unarmed.

The man seemed a little apprehensive at first, and kept eyeballing their weapons. He introduced himself as Klossed, a hermit who hadn't quite got the isolation bit down yet. "I guess I'm just too much of a people person," the man joked. They all had a good laugh over that and Klossed seemed to relax a bit.

"Well, I'm more than glad to see that you two are the friendly type," he said. "I've had more than my fair share of bandit attacks these past few weeks. Most of them leave me alone once they find I've nothing of any value, but a few of them have still tried to rough me up a bit out of sheer frustration."

"I've heard that bandit raids are on the rise lately," Jaycen said. "And that the raids may somehow be related to an iron shortage."

"Yes, indeed," Klossed replied, nodding enthusiastically. "In fact, the iron shortage is why I'm here before you as a hermit, if you catch my meaning. I used to be a blacksmith in the town of Ulgoth's Beard until I was forced to close shop after all my iron wares deteriorated. My customers were absolutely irate at having been sold tools that would rust out in a single overnight and weapons that would snap like twigs in autumn with little more than normal use. They thought I was trying to rip them off so they drove me out of town. I consider myself darn luck I wasn't tarred and feathered on the way out."

Jaycen and Imoen listened intently as Klossed went on. "That was about three tendays ago when that happened to me. Now the problem is much more widespread and people are starting to realize it's not the fault of the local smithies. It's almost as if an iron disease is sweeping across the Coast, plaguing any metal it finds. Every city and town in the area is affected--Beregost, Nashkel, the Friendly Arm, Gullykin, even Baldur's Gate. And the bandit raids are just making the situation worse. Caravans bringing in good iron from the north and the east are getting ransacked by marauders as soon as they enter the area. Crazy thing is, they're leaving behind the gold and gems and just taking their iron."

Jaycen and Imoen talked with Klossed for a little while longer, asking him about the local area and the best way to get to the Friendly Arm. Klossed confirmed that there was no way they would be able to reach the Friendly Arm by nightfall and that Imoen's plan to sleep a little ways off the trail was the safest bet. After hearing the hermit's stories about bandit raids, Jaycen was inclined to agree. The two soon bid Klossed farewell and were back on their way.

They continued on until the sun finished it's daily trip across the sky and began to sink below the horizon once again. As the last bits of daylight faded away they veered off the trail and made their way into the forest to find a suitable place to set up camp for the night. Imoen began gathering wood to make a fire while Jaycen dug a small pit to place it in, as Imoen had suggested, so as to conceal it from the distance.

Soon the two were huddled together by the fire, eating some cheese and cucumber biscuits and sipping water from a small flask Imoen had brought with her. The biscuits were a little stale, but Jaycen wasn't in the mood for trying to catch and cook wild game so he decided to put up with them. The water had a strange aftertaste to it and Jaycen suspected the flask had been previously used to hold a rather strong ale or mead, though Imoen fiercely denied those allegations and claimed ignorance to how the flask was previously utilized.

The two agreed to take turns keeping watch and Imoen let Jaycen sleep first since he hadn't gotten much rest the night before. Within minutes he was out like a candle. As he slept, Jaycen dreamed. He dreamed about his childhood back in Candlekeep, when life was so much simpler. He dreamed of playing in the courtyard with his friends. He dreamed of training with the keep's militia. He dreamed of studying the path of the paladin with the priests and of the countless hours spent in the library reading through the thousands upon thousands of dusty tomes and manuscripts. He dreamed of sitting on the steps of the library with Gorion, spending hours just talking about nothing in particular. It all seemed so far away now. It made him feel cold inside.

Then, Jaycen stirred awake and realized that it wasn't just the dream. He really was cold. He turned to Imoen to ask her to place some more wood on the fire and, to his annoyance, found her curled up in a little ball beside him, sound asleep and snoring rather loudly.

He was about to yell at her when a sound in the distance caused him to freeze. It was faint at first but it was slowly growing louder, and it was coming this way. He cautiously turned toward the sound and strained his eyes to see in the blackness of the night. A huge mass was moving through the trees about a hundred yards away. At first he thought it was a single, giant creature, but as it grew closer and the sound grew clearer he could hear dozens of distinct grunts, growls, and howls coming from the mass. It was a pack of animals of some sort, and they sounded rather agitated. The pack closed to within fifty yards and he was finally able to make them out in the faint moonlight, and his blood ran cold with the realization of what they were. Gibberlings.

One's first impression of gibberlings is of a writhing mass of fur and flesh in the distant moonlit darkness. The pandemonium is actually a horde of pale, hunched-back humanoids with pointed canine ears and black manes surrounding their hideous, grinning faces. Their eyes are black and shine with a maniacal gleam as they come screaming, jabbering, and howling out of the night. They have no apparent thought of safety, subtlety, or strategy, leaving others with little hope of stopping their mass assault. Individually, a single gibberling is not much of a threat, but a pack of several dozen can overwhelm even the most hearty warriors by sheer force of number. And from what Jaycen could see, there appeared to be at least twenty or thirty in this pack.

The pack was only about thirty yards away now, but they were moving perpendicular to them and looked like they would probably pass right by, so long as the pack wasn't alerted to their presence. Jaycen gave Imoen a sharp jab to her ribs to wake her up and get her to stop snoring. The young girl jumped up but he quickly threw his hand over her mouth and held her down.

"Keep absolutely still," Jaycen hissed. "And don't make a sound."

Imoen nodded slowly as she watched the pack scuttle by, now less than twenty yards away. For the first time in her life, Imoen was truly afraid. She tried to hold her breath, so as not to make even a single sound. She could hear her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She tried her best to calm it down. It was beating so strong she was afraid that the gibberlings might be able to hear it. A sharp pain shot through her hand, and she realized that she was clenching her fist so tightly that her fingernails were digging into the flesh of her palm.

The rancid scent of dead flesh wafted from the pack as they passed by. It looked like they were about to move on without noticing them. But then Jaycen's heart sank as Imoen inhaled sharply and let out a rather loud sneeze. She immediately threw her hands up to try to muffle the sound, but it was still enough to catch the attention of some of the closest beasts. Within seconds, the entire pack altered its course and charged straight at them, their screams growing into a violent crescendo."Run!" Jaycen shouted as he yanked Imoen up, grabbed his sword, and charged off with her into the forest. The two ran as fast as their legs could carry them, leaping over bushes and ducking under low hanging tree branches. As they ran deeper into the forest the trees became thicker and closer together, hindering their movement. They held their arms out before them, swatting aside branches and leaves as they raced through the dark woods, stumbling over rocks and the carpet of vines and dead branches that covered the ground.

Somehow they managed to make their way back to the Lion's Way Road. They darted out of the trees and into the clearing surrounding the trail and were able to resume a full sprint, but the pack of gibberlings was still closing fast. Jaycen could hear individual creatures breathing as they drew closer. He felt a swipe at his back, but didn't stop to turn around. He blindly swung his sword behind him and felt it slash across a solid object. The scream of pain that rang out and the wet thump on the ground moments later confirmed he had taken out one of the beasts, but it only seemed to agitate the rest.

Jaycen wasn't running quite as fast as he could, but he wanted to keep Imoen ahead of him. He might be able to hold off a dozen or so of the creatures, but without any armor she wouldn't last for a second against them. Then he realized in horror that he had removed his own armor before going to sleep. Still, armor or no, he knew he would fare better against the creatures than Imoen, and he had to keep himself between her and them.

Imoen was fumbling around in her nap sack as she ran, muttering to herself. "Tinder...flint...matches...matches...matches?! Where the blazes are my matches?!"

Jaycen shouted back to her, "Who cares about your stupid matches?!"

A claw slashed across Jaycen's back, making a loud scratching noise against his leather vest. He blindly spun around and threw his fist out to connect with the face of one of the creatures, then spun back around to resume his sprint a half second later.

"Gibberlings are afraid of bright light," Imoen shouted back, still fumbling around in her pack. "We've got to find some way to light a fire and scare them off."

"Well, if you hadn't fallen asleep and let our camp fire go out then we'd have a pretty big fire, wouldn't we?!"

"Oh, shut up!"

Much to Jaycen's horror as Imoen turned back to shout at him she tripped over a large rock and fell clumsily to the ground. He leapt to the side, desperately trying to avoid crashing into her, then quickly drew his sword and jumped between her and the advancing gibberlings as the young girl scrambled back to her feet.

The horde was nearly upon them; trying to run would be futile. They knew they had to make their stand here. Imoen drew her own blade and leapt forward to stand at Jaycen's side as the jabbering gibberlings barreled down on them.

Swatting aside two of the beasts with his sword, Jaycen threw his free arm out and shoved her back. "Get out of here, Imoen! I'll deal with them!"

Imoen shook her head and rushed forward again. "No way. I'm gonna stick by your side ‘til the end!"

Jaycen gave the girl another hard shove as he slashed his blade across the chest of a third beast. "I mean it, Imoen! Stay back, damn it!"

He rushed forward again to meet the creatures' attack but was knocked back as a shower of flames erupted before him. The middle ranks of gibberlings howled in pain and collapsed to the ground in a pile of charred and smoldering flesh and fur as the remnants of the pack scattered off in different directions, retreating back into the night.

A soothing voice called out from behind him as Jaycen staggered to his feet. "And now, let's shed some light on this situation, shall we?"

With a brilliant flash, the entire area was illuminated as brightly as day. Jaycen squinted his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, and looked around to try to find source of the light and the voice, which he presumed to be one and the same. As he turned around he noticed two figures standing on the road a few yards away. They were hard to make out, since his eyes still hadn't adjusted yet, but one of the figures seemed to be tall and lanky while the other was short and squatty.

"Bah! Do you have to make that blasted thing so bright?" The voice seemed to be coming from the shorter of the two. It sounded gruff and raspy. His accent was a bit lazy, yet noble at the same time.

"Oh, quit your whining." This voice seemed to be coming from the taller one, and he recognized him as the one who had first spoken. His voice was softer, somewhat melodic and mesmerizing. "A little sunlight would do you some good."

Jaycen rubbed his eyes a bit and finally adjusted to the light so he could get a better look at his saviors.

The taller one was dressed in a long green robe with gold trim and several strange symbols stitched into the fabric. His hair was rather frazzled and it looked like he had never been within ten feet of a comb in all his life. A tattoo etched with an elaborate pattern of black inks wove around his eyes and mouth and formed a sort of mask that made the man look like he was grinning maniacally. From the look of the man's attire Jaycen figured he was some sort of wizard, although he didn't look old enough to be of any great power. Jaycen wasn't very good at guessing people's ages, but he figured this man was in his late twenties, which, as far as wizards go, was quite young.

The smaller man was dressed in a white silk tunic and black cotton trousers and wore a rather nice set of leather armor, riveted with small metal studs. A finely crafted sword hung by his side and an ornate crossbow was slung casually over his shoulder. The man seemed pretty burly, but only appeared to be about four feet tall. As Jaycen glanced down at the man's bare, hairy feet, he immediately recognized him as a halfling--a diminutive race of humanoids that appear nearly identical to humans aside from their short, stout builds, and their large, hairy feet, which they rarely cover with any kind of footwear.

The wizard looked Jaycen and Imoen over once and spoke again. "Two children wandering the wilderness in the middle of the night? Surely you must be none too bright. You should consider yourselves lucky that you managed to escape with your lives."

Snickering in agreement the halfling added, "Aye. Ye look to have been roughed up quite well. A fine pair o' troubles, all yer own."

The wizard nodded and gave them a wry smile. "Indeed. It's a good thing we happened upon you when we did. From the looks of you two, I doubt you would have lasted five seconds against those beasts."

Slightly annoyed at their assessment, Imoen put her hands on her hips and gave a little "humph," but Jaycen held up his hand to quiet her. "We surely would have been outnumbered if it wasn't for your timely intervention," he said. "It seems we owe you a debt of gratitude."

With a shrug of his shoulders and a slightly widening smile the wizard added, "Perhaps you do. But I am not the type to hold someone in debt." He cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow before slowly adding, "Though your conscience knows otherwise."

"Just like all good people," the halfling snickered.

The wizard gave a rather extravagant and flourished bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Xzar." He gestured to the man beside him. "And this is my associate, Montaron." The little halfling gave a grunt and a quick nod. Xzar continued, "We are mercenary adventurers and we have been sent to this area to investigate some rather disturbing rumors surrounding the iron mines of Nashkel."

"We've heard some rumors ourselves," Jaycen said. "Seems like all the iron coming out of that mine is tainted somehow, as if it's been infected with some kind of iron plague."

Xzar responded with a slightly disturbing laugh. "Oh, that's certainly one way of putting it, my friend. Some acquaintances of ours are very concerned about this 'iron plague.' Specifically, where to lay blame in the matter." The wizard tapped his chin thoughtfully for a few moments before continuing. "Perhaps there is a way you could repay us for helping you. The trip to Nashkel is a dangerous one, as you are surely aware, and I could certainly use a few hearty warriors to assist me."

Montaron gave a quick "hey" and motioned to himself.

"Excuse me," Xzar chuckled. "I mean, I could use a few MORE hearty warriors."

In response to the wizard's obvious sarcasm, Montaron grumbled a few words in a foreign tongue. Jaycen didn't recognize them, but based on the tone and inflection he was quite certainly they were some rather harsh explicatives directed at Xzar.

Ignoring Montaron's grumblings the wizard continued. "You two would be useful during our investigation, though I'll not hold you to it. Let your conscious be your guide."

Imoen looked at Jaycen and shrugged. "We do owe them our lives, I guess. And it sounds like a pretty noble cause."

"Oh, yes," Xzar replied, nodding enthusiastically. "It is quite noble indeed! In fact, we have been commissioned by the mayor of the town, a man named Berrun Ghastkill, I believe."

While these two seemed to be working toward good ends, something about them still made Jaycen feel a little uncomfortable. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he was quite certain that there was something they weren't telling him. He considered their request for a few moments before responding. "I would go with you," he replied. "But I must meet someone else first at the Friendly Arm Inn. Perhaps you would accompany me there. Then when I've found who I'm looking for we could all go to Nashkel and investigate this iron shortage."

Xzar frowned at Jaycen's response, his face twitching somewhat spasmodically with annoyance. "We've precious little time to waste." He stroked his chin for a few moments, pondering Jaycen's counterproposal, then eventually seemed to regain control of his facial features. "Tis best to travel accompanied, though. I suppose t'would be best to accept."

With a quick grunt Montaron nodded in agreement. "Aye. We'll go wit' ye." He glared at Jaycen and pointed his finger at him. "Ye owe us for our time though."

A maniacal gleam sparkled in Xzar's eyes as he clapped his hands excitedly. "Goody good good! We should make haste to the Friendly Arm first thing in the morning, then. Onward intrepid friends."

"Rein it in, wizard," Montaron barked. "I canna stand the way your senses flit about. Could we just travel in peace for once?"

"Oh, lighten up Montaron," the wizard chided. "Must you always be so moody?"

Imoen led the group back to their campsite where they collected their scattered and trampled equipment and rebuilt the fire. Jaycen settled back down to get some much needed sleep and Imoen resumed her guard duty, this time making extra certain to stay awake.

The group rose at the break of dawn, gathered their gear and made their way back to the Coast Way Road to continue their journey to the Friendly Arm. Montaron claimed to be familiar with the way, so he took the lead with Xzar following close behind him. Jaycen stayed a few yards back so he could observe his new traveling companions and reflect upon his current situation. Imoen made her way up next to Xzar and Montaron to try to find out a bit more about the two.

Montaron was obviously no stranger to life on the road. From time to time he would halt the group and peer sharply and intently into the woods, as if searching for some unseen foe. Occasionally he would even venture into the forest for a few minutes, then return to report that it was "all clear." Imoen tried to strike up a conversation with the halfling a few times, but he proved to be less than sociable and even went so far as to threaten the poor girl with bodily harm if she continued to pester him. Her good natured humor was obviously lost on him or at the very least was entirely unwelcome. He seemed quite dangerous, and more than willing to engage in gratuitous violence. It appeared that he cared very little for life, including his own. Montaron's association with Xzar was a grudging one at best, and he obviously despised the man. Whoever their employers were, they must be powerful indeed. These two would likely kill each other without a presence over their heads preventing it. If she was persistent enough Imoen might have been able to get Montaron to discuss the whole matter with her, but she got the feeling that she probably would not wake up the next morning, so she wisely decided to let the issue drop.

While Montaron seemed cold and calculating, Xzar was just plain nuts. He seemed to have a constant twitch and he would frequently pull at his robes as if they fit him too tightly, even though they were quite loose. Imoen tried striking up a conversation with the wizard, but he had very few coherent things to say. He would mutter under his breath and frequently giggle at some private joke of his. His eyes quickly darted around like a paranoid bird's, as if afraid someone was constantly watching him. Occasionally he would stop dead in his tracks, throw back his head, and scream "Stop touching me!" at the top of his voice, even when no one was anywhere near him. Imoen quickly surmised that this man wasn't exactly the sanest bird in the cackle-house. During their conversation, Xzar muttered something about how he and Montaron were in the employ of a powerful group, but when she pressed him for details he got extremely agitated and wouldn't speak to her again for some time. She was quite certain that he was at least partially insane, and whoever this network was that would hire him, they must be dark indeed.

Imoen casually fell back from the two and returned to Jaycen to report her findings.

"Jaycen, I don't trust these guys," she whispered.

"I don't either," he whispered back. "But we promised to help them with the problems in Nashkel. We do owe them for saving our lives, you know. And right now we need all the help we can get."

Imoen gave him a rather worried look. "Yeah, well, somehow I think we might be safer without these guys."

Jaycen nodded in understanding. "I think we'll be okay for the time being. They seem to be pursuing a worthy cause, even if their motives are a little unclear. And besides, I scanned them and I didn't sense any evil intent in them. At least none directed toward us."

A slightly confused look crossed the young girl's face. "Scanned them? What do you mean?"

"Paladins have the ability to sense evil and chaotic intentions in others," Jaycen explained. "It's kind of like a sixth sense. I had started to gain the ability shortly before we left Candlekeep. Now that Gorion has formally ordained me I can call upon the power at will. It's a gift from the gods to help us paladins find and destroy the forces of evil."

With a hard gulp, Imoen nervously moved a few feet away from him. Jaycen laughed and shook his head at the young girl. "Don't worry, Imoen. Paladins are sworn to find and destroy the forces of evil, not the forces of naughtiness." She smiled again and skipped back over towards him. Jaycen shot her as harsh a glare as he could muster. "But watch your step. I've got my eye on you." Imoen giggled nervously. She wasn't quite sure if he was serious or just teasing her. And that's just the way Jaycen wanted it.

The four finally arrived at the Friendly Arm Inn in the late afternoon. They were all pretty tired from traveling and were greatly looking forward to resting their weary feet by a warm fire for the remainder of the evening.

A warm breeze blew across the countryside as the group wandered up the trail that led to the entrance of the inn. The Friendly Arm was a small, walled in hamlet consisting of a large central keep surrounded by stables, gardens, horse ponds, and wagon sheds. The central keep was four stories tall and crafted of old, gray stone and brick. Although the keep was in good repair it still showed signs of aging with chunks of brick and stone crumbling around the edges and the tips of the spires weathering away from decades of wind and rain. A giant wooden drawbridge was lowered over a dry moat. As Jaycen passed over the bridge he noticed the iron chains that connected the bridge to the gears of the drawing mechanism were rusted out and appeared to be more aesthetic than functional. It was doubtful if the bridge could be drawn even if there was a need.

A man who looked to be part of the keep's militia, dressed in light leather armor and carrying a poorly crafted halberd made his way over to the group and lazily raised his hand to stop them. "Good day, travelers. Welcome to the Friendly Arm. I trust you know the rules of conduct within?"

Jaycen raised an eyebrow. "Rules? What sort of rules?"

The man shrugged casually. "Well, perhaps ‘rules' is a touch too formal. It is accepted that while herein you will act with the utmost of civility to all other guests. This is considered neutral ground, and all grievances are left at the gate. If the grievances come in, you will go out. Hostility with word or deed will not be tolerated within the walls of the Friendly Arm. Violators will be punished to the fullest extent of Frontier Law." So as not to make too harsh of an impression on the group the man smiled and nodded. "Though I'm sure you folk won't be any trouble. Enjoy your stay. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to speak with Bently or Gelanna."

Jaycen shook his head. "Bently and Gelanna? Who are they?"

"Ah, my apologies," the guard said. "Bently and Genlanna are husband and wife and they run the place. They're both really good people. Gelanna is the High Priestess in the temple of Garl Glittergold and Bently can usually be found tending bar in the inn itself. You should introduce yourselves. Bently can keep you up all night with his stories. And if you need anything from me, the name's Charleston. Once again, enjoy your stay." The guard gave a bow and went on his way.

The courtyard of the keep was bustling with activity. A series of makeshift tables and tents were set up along the eastern wall as a sort of bazaar. Farmers and merchants from all walks of life were running about on the grass and cobblestone paths that circled around the keep, trying to either buy or sell various wares. Sheep and goats wandered freely through the area, though the horses were kept hitched in the stables to the west of the main entrance.

As Jaycen made his way through the courtyard he noticed that most of the people weren't in the best of spirits. A general feeling of melancholy was prevalent in the air and on the faces of the peasants, and some of the people seemed downright hostile. He made his way through the crowd and passed by a young farmer dressed in ragged and dirt-covered clothes who seemed to be in an argument with a merchant who was selling tools and farm supplies.

"I bought this hoe from you last week and it rusted out in a single overnight," the farmer shouted. "I can't be tendin' the fields with my hands, so I can't! Yer sellin' nothin' but cheap junk here! Cheap junk at exorbitant prices! How's a man supposed to make an honest livin' with this?! I ought to run ye through, ye copper-clenching Calishite!"

The rather well dressed merchant raised his hands to placate the farmer. "Sir, I assure you I had nothing to do with this. All iron wares of late have been afflicted with this problem. It has nothing to do with me..."

The farmer was absolutely fuming. "Yet they're yer goods! Yer sellin'em and ye better be standin' behind'em! I want my money back ye dirty rotten thief!"

A group of guards quickly made their way over to the merchant's table to try to calm down the man and prevent the argument from escalating into violence.

As Jaycen stopped to observe the farmer and the merchant a woman of middle years walked up beside him and shook her head. "The iron crisis has taken everybody off guard," she said. "Why plan for a shortage when the resource is nearly unlimited?" The woman sighed before continuing. "I guess we're paying for it now. I guarantee that if we survive through this it will never happen again. People will be hoarding metal for months."

Jaycen turned to speak with her. "Does anyone know what's causing this?"

The woman shook her head sadly. "No one has a clue, but somebody better find out fast. Pinch off the supply of iron and after a while the farmers can't sow, the smiths can't forge, and, by and by, an army finds it's disarmed of all but clubs and staves. That's the kind of strife that makes a land vulnerable."

A young farmer passing behind the woman turned his head sharply and interjected his opinion into the conversation. "I can tell ‘ya who's responsible. It's Amn I tells ya!"

Amn was a very powerful merchant nation just south of the Sword Coast. While many of their merchants were known to engage in less than scrupulous business practices, Jaycen couldn't see how starting an iron shortage could benefit them. He shook his head in confusion. "Why would the nation of Amn want to start an iron shortage? I thought iron was one of their chief exports?"

The man nodded eagerly. "Aye, it is. But all the iron they've been sendin' us out of their mine in Nashkel is plagued. Weak as tissue it is. And iron caravans from the north and east are gettin' sacked by bandits. But get this: the bandits are leaving behind the gold and jewels and only taking off with the iron ore! Who ever heard of bandits passing over gold to steal ingots? It's got to be part of the trouble in the mines. They must be in cahoots somehow. Can't get ore from the mines, and can't get ore through trading. What with the raids on iron stores and the trouble in the mines it's a wonder we've any arms or armor left at all. It can't help but weaken the area, and I bet Amn is just waiting for our guard to go down." The man spat once, twice, three times, then made a rather rude gesture toward the south. "A pox on ‘em all! I'm moving out soon, what with all the rumors about Amn going about. I hear they have an army down in Nashkel. Gonna use the Friendly Arm to launch against the Gate, I hear. Hopefully I'm gone by then." The man made another rude gesture then continued on his way, grumbling to himself.

As the agitated fellow walked off the woman Jaycen was first talking to rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You don't go believing every little thing being bandied about," she said. "A lot of it is just people getting worried 'bout nothing. Those gossips in Beregost are always coming up with new rumors to tell travelers. Us here at the Friendly Arm, we should have more sense. And I do apologize for some of the more...vocal...residents here."

The group continued through the courtyard, passing a rather simple temple, and made their way to the main entrance to the inn proper. Along the side of the central keep were a huge set of stone steps carved into the side of the building that led up to a massive oak door which appeared to be the main entrance.

As Jaycen began to scale the steps he caught the eye of a man dressed in flowing, black robes at the top of the stairs. The man's long, brown hair was neatly trimmed and pulled back into a ponytail and a small goatee hung from his chin. Upon seeing Jaycen the man gave a friendly wave and moved down the stairs to greet him.

"Hi, friend. I've not seen you here before today. What brings you to the Friendly Arm?" The man gave a warm smile and extended his hand.

"I am here to meet some friends," Jaycen replied as he gave the man a firm handshake.

An excited sparkle glistened in the man's eye at Jaycen's reply. "Oh, you must be whom I am to meet then! Are you Jaycen, perchance?"

Jaycen nodded and returned a smile. "Why, yes I am. You must be Khalid."

Nodding eagerly the man motioned for Jaycen and his companions to follow him. "I am indeed. But come, we should not stay out here in the open for too long. There is much that we must discuss and it would be best to do so in a more private location, away from scrying ears."

The group followed Khalid back down the steps and through the courtyard into a more isolated part of the keep. The cobblestone trail ended and he led the group behind the keep's temple and toward what looked like an old, abandoned tool shed. As Jaycen followed him a slight tingling sensation began to well up in the back of his neck. The paladin looked around nervously. Something was wrong. He focused his attention on Khalid, and the tingling sensation turned into a sharp, stabbing pain. Something was very wrong.

Calling up to Khalid he casually asked, "So, is Jaheira going to meet us here too?"

Khalid nodded but didn't look back. "Yes, Jaheira is on her way."

There was something about his response that didn't seem right. Jaycen paused, then asked, "What about Bryce?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Khalid nodded again. "Yes, yes. Bryce will be here too."

Jaycen and Imoen froze in their tracks and drew their blades. The man spun around at the sound of the blades scraping against their scabbards with a startled look on his face. "Something wrong?"

"Indeed, there is," Jaycen coldly replied, his eyes narrowing into focused slits. "Bryce was a name I just made up." Montaron drew his own blade as Xzar slowed backed away.

The man smiled wickedly. "So, the ruse is up then, is it? Very well, I am not Khalid. My name is Tarnesh. I would go into more detail, but seeing as how you won't be living for much longer it just seems like a wasted effort."

The air seemed to grow tense with the coming anticipation of violence. Jaycen looked to his left at Imoen, then to his right at Montaron, and behind him at Xzar, then returned his gaze to Tarnesh and smiled. "Um...perhaps you haven't noticed, but we seem to have you slightly outnumbered."

Tarnesh's eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with Jaycen. "Then let us even the odds." With merely a flick of his hands four exact duplicates of Tarnesh appeared to either side of him and began laughing in unison.

Montaron gritted his teeth. "Ah, troll leavings! It's a Mirror Image spell!" The little halfling charged forward to attack the closest image. "We've got to break through the images before we can hurt him," he shouted back. "Now get up here and help me!" Imoen dashed off to attack one of the images with Jaycen following close behind her.

One of Tarnesh's images held out it's hand and an arrow of pure flame shot forth to strike Montaron in the shoulder. The halfling howled in pain but resumed his attack a second later, striking the image and causing it to shatter before him.

Imoen lunged at one of the image of Tarnsh that stood before her but it artfully dodged out of her way. Jaycen thrust out his hand and pushed her aside. "Imoen, stay back!" The girl ignored Jaycen's orders and made another attack at the illusionary Tarnesh, which again leapt aside, avoiding her blade, and began to cast another spell.

From where he was standing a few yards away, Xzar shook his head in disgust. "Bumbling simpletons. Must I do everything myself?" The wizard thrust out his hands and released two globes of magical energy, which raced through the air, each one striking one of Tarnesh's images and causing it to burst like a bubble and foiling the spell that the one was attempting to cast.

Jaycen was trying to attack one of the two remaining images but kept bumping into Imoen, who was chasing it herself. He grabbed her by the collar and yanked the young girl back. "Imoen, get out of my way!"

Imoen fell back to the ground but rolled into a reverse summersault and sprang back to her feet in one fluid motion. The girl's teeth gnashed together as she shot a rather harsh glare at the back of Jaycen's head. "Mutton mongerin' riff raff," she whispered to no one in particular. "Pushin' me away. I'll show you a thing or two." As she grumbled to herself the girl pulled her bow from her shoulder, notched an arrow, and fired it off at the image Jaycen was fighting. The arrow whizzed past Jaycen's ear and struck the image square in the head, causing it to sizzle away into glittering magical dust.

Jaycen turned to Imoen and shouted, "Hey, watch it!" as he made his way toward the one remaining Tarnesh--the true Tarnesh.

Montaron swung his blade but just before he connected the evil wizard raised his hands and projected a blue shield of pure energy before him that caused the halfling's sword to bounce off like a rubber ball against a stone wall. Montaron turned back and shouted to Xzar. "Wizard! Dispel this damn shield, ye fool!"

Xzar began waving his hands and chanting more arcane syllables, but before he was able to finish his incantation Tarnesh raised his hand and, with a maniacal gleam in his eye, sent a bolt of lightning streaking toward the wizard. Xzar dropped his hands and sighed, "Oh, pooh." The bolt shot through Xzar's body, causing him to convulse and shudder, the electrical currents ripping through his muscles and bones. Xzar let out a blood-curdling scream as his body went limp and dropped to the ground.

At the sight of Xzar's fallen body Montaron threw his hands up in the air and proudly proclaimed, "And the mad wizard falls!" With a slight shrug he added. "Saves me the trouble." Then he turned his attention back to Tarnesh.

"I grow tired of this game," Tarnesh laughed. "Let us end this in this in one fell swoop!" With a swish of his arm the mage cast another spell and a cloud of shimmering, glittering dust fell over Jaycen, Imoen, and Montaron.

Imoen staggered briefly, then shook her head and regained her composure. "Don't know what that was supposed to do, you big meanie," Imoen yell. "But it didn't seem to work so..." She stopped in mid-sentence as she noticed Jaycen and Montaron standing motionless before Tarnesh, frozen in mid-attack. She looked back and forth between the two, then whispered, "Uh-oh."

The evil mage casually held out his hand, flicked his finger, and sent a large, glowing orb racing toward Jaycen. The orb struck the young paladin in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Imoen screamed in horror as streams of blood slowly trickled out from Jaycen's nose, ears, and mouth. Jaycen was still paralyzed, and he was dying.

Tarnesh had to wait a few seconds to gather his strength for another spell, and it gave Imoen enough time to act. The evil wizard's protective shield was still in front of him, but that shield would only protect him from physical attacks. Imoen reached into her nap sack and pulled out a slender, golden rod with a pink oval on one of the tips. She pointed the rod at Tarnesh. Tarnesh began waving his hands, casting another spell. Imoen gritted her teeth and focused on the evil wizard. A bolt of magical energy shot out from the wand, smashing through Tarnesh's shield and knocking the wizard to the ground, his spell fizzling away into wasted potential energy.

Slightly dazed, the wizard staggered to his feet. He and Imoen locked eyes. Imoen smiled slightly as the wizard desperately tried to cast another spell. "Oh, I'll show you a fight," the young girl yell out. Again a bolt of magical energy raced forth from Imoen's wand. Again the bolt struck the wizard. And again Tarnesh fell to the ground. But this time, he did not get back up.

Imoen ran over to Jaycen and started to look him over. "Jaycen! Jaycen, are you okay?! Jaycen!" The paralyzation spell had worn off and Jaycen was moving again, but the blood was still streaming out of his ears and nose. All of the color had run out of his face and his breath was slow, wheezing, and irregular. Imoen desperately looked him over, trying to find a wound to staunch, but none could be found. The second spell had caused internal injuries--there was no way to bind the wounds.

Imoen thrust her hand into her nap sack and pulled out a small blue vial of liquid. As she pulled the cork the smell of peppermint filled the air. She brought the vial up to Jaycen's lips and slowly poured a few drops into his mouth.

"Drink this, Jaycen," she begged. "Come on, drink it."

As the liquid poured into Jaycen's mouth his breathing became more regular and the color started to return to his face. Imoen held his head in her hands for a few seconds until the potion had it's full effect.

Jaycen blinked rapidly. "Wha...Imoen? What happened?"

She smiled brightly and squeezed him tightly in her arms. "Oh, thank the gods you're okay! I thought I lost you."

Jaycen looked around. Xzar's body was lying motionless several yards behind them. Montaron was staggering to his feet, rubbing his head and muttering something about wanting to kill every wizard in the Realms. And Tarnesh was lying in a pool of his own blood several feet in front of him, a look of shocked disbelief plastered on his face. Jaycen looked down at Imoen and noticed the wand she was still clutching in her right hand.

Imoen smiled and flicked the wand around between her fingers. "These big, bad wizards aren't the only ones who can cast a spell or two."

Jaycen grabbed the wand from her and examined it carefully. "Imoen, this is a very powerful magic wand. Where did you get this?" He grabbed her nap sack and turned it upside down. Several more potion vials rolled out on to the ground. "And where did you get these potions?" Imoen smiled and batted her eyes innocently. A look of anger flashed across Jaycen's face. "Did you steal these things from Candlekeep?!"

Imoen's cute smile quickly faded and she nervously looked away. "No. Well...I mean, not really. I just kind'a...borrowed them for a while."

Jaycen was absolutely incensed. "Borrowed?!"

Imoen turned back to him and gulped, her voice wavering as she tried to explain. "I was gonna give them back! Honest!"

Jaycen rose to his feet and glared down at the young girl. "Your pranks and practical jokes are one thing, Imoen. But to flat out steal from the monks of Candlekeep..." Jaycen's face crunched into a scowl as he pointed accusingly at her, as if passing judgement. "I will NOT suffer the company of a common thief!"

Imoen's delicate facial features collapsed as she burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. "I'm not a common thief! I'm not!" She looked up at Jaycen with tear-filled, bloodshot eyes. "When I saw how worried Gorion was the morning after I read his letter, I knew you were in really deep trouble. If these people could get him worried then I knew they had to be really, really powerful. I wanted to help you, and I wasn't going to let these bad people hurt you!" She looked away, wiping the tears from her face. "But I'm not strong enough on my own. And those monks have so many magical do-dads they'd never notice if one or two went missing. Jaycen, if I didn't take these things then you'd be...you'd be..." Imoen buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to finish the thought. "I just wanted to help you," she whispered between sobs.

Jaycen sighed and knelt down beside her. "Imoen, you may have had the most noble of intentions, but that still doesn't make it right. Stealing is stealing, no matter how you look at it and no matter what your reason for doing so."

Imoen sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jaycen," she whispered.

Jaycen nodded and helped her pick up her things and put them back into her nap sack. "Look, Imoen," he said, "we can't throw aside our morals and ethics. If we do, then it makes us no better than these evil people who are out to kill me. We can't stoop to their level. We have to rise above it. We're better than them."

Even as Jaycen lectured Imoen, in the back of his mind he knew she was right. If it hadn't been for the magic wand Tarnesh wouldn't have fallen. And if it wasn't for the magic potion he would be dead now. In his mind echoed the words he spoke when he first began his paladin training: "I would rather die with honor than live without." Jaycen sighed. Those words were much easier to speak than to live by.

"You there! Cease and desist!" A group of guards came running towards them followed by a crowd of peasants, farmers, and merchants, craning their necks to get a look at what was going on.

Jaycen raised his hands as the guards ran up to him. "We were attacked by this mage," he explained.

"Says you," the guard replied, pointing his spear at Jaycen. "What proof do you have that you didn't start this?"

"I've got your proof right here," Montaron called out, waving a flimsy piece of parchment in his hand. He staggered over to the guard and handed him the paper.

The guard looked it over briefly then looked back up at Jaycen. "So I take it you're Jaycen?" Jaycen nodded. "Alright, then. You're free to go." He handed the paper over to Jaycen then motioned to his subordinates to take what was left of Tarnesh.

One of the younger guards waved to the captain. "He's still alive, sir. But barely."

The captain nodded. "Take him to the temple and have High Priestess Gelanna heal him. This man will answer for his crimes before I allow him to check out of this world."

As the guards dragged Tarnesh away Jaycen looked over the letter Montaron found on his body. 

Below the text was a hand drawn picture of Jaycen's face, accurate to the finest detail.

Montaron chuckled as Jaycen looked up from the note with a look of shocked disbelief. "Bet ye never knew ye was so popular, eh boy?"

Copyright (C) 2001-2003 by Ryan Brady.