In the One thousand five hundred seventy-first year following the Collapse of the Empire, a small group of individuals graduated from their studies at the Conlegium at Astmoor.  In the early morning following the post graduation revels, they were summoned to the presence of the Conlegium’s Grandmaster of All Studies.  As is the custom of that august institution, they were to be offered employ from one of its many contacts.  They were introduced to a Brother Castsus, a monk of the Penitent Order of St. Anthony in the service of Monsignor Saerpens of Templeshire.   The monk explained that the Monsignor had chosen the group from the rolls of recent graduates and had requested that they meet with him on the second day of May to discuss their employ.  He also invited them to attend a special May Day mass given by the Pontiff himself.    The Grandmaster then presented them with their graduation rings by which they would be known to other alumni and requested that they do him a minimal service by escorting Brother Castus back to Templeshire.

     After introductions and hurried preparations, the party left Astmoor on the following morning, bound for Templeshire.   Omens would soon indicate that the journey would not be a peaceful one.  A brief but heated encounter with hunters warned them of roaming packs of near starved wolves.  A fact soon confirmed, when they encountered a young boy with a newborn lamb fleeing from such a pack.  The party came to his rescue, slaying the rampaging creatures.  They tended to his wounds and then escorted him to his home at the MoorWard, where they left in the care of his grateful father.  When the time came, the father offered to find war-horses for the knights of the party-at cost-as way of a reward.

     The party found lodging at the Bandit’s End Inn.  Unfortunately the only bandit to be had proved to be the innkeeper, as their stay proved comfortable, but expensive.  Again, bad omens dogged the group.  During the evening meal, Bard Doran was accosted by foul ruffians, but her fellows came to her aid.  In a brief but intense brawl, the knaves were dispatched in short order.  However, in the struggle, Ilph had knifed one of them, and this did not sit well with the Wardens that had come to investigate the disturbance.  The WardCaptain let the halfling off with a 50 Mark fine, paid along with the road tax at the party’s departure.

     The next morning, the party left the last vestiges of civilization with warnings of the road ahead.  Added to the wolves, human bandits and humanoid raiding parties were about and at their work.   They were also told of other groups traveling the road and the suggestion is made to perhaps join one of them.   The advice went unfulfilled, as the warnings are proved true. 

     Later that day, the party was assaulted from ambush by a group of kobolds.  The wretched, scraggly humanoids proved no match, as they fell beneath the charging horses of the knights and the well-swung blades of the others.  Only Sir Calimar was wounded by a kobold fired bolt and was quickly cared for by Castus & Father Martin.   Shardis took one prisoner.  He thoroughly intimidated the young kobold into servitude and dubbed the toothy fellow ‘Lugnut’.  The humanoid would soon prove himself a useful and brave…if a bit unsettling…companion. 

     Travel over the next two days passed quietly until noon of the second day.  A woman’s shriek followed by raucous laughter brought the group to a halt.  Shardis, Cain, Durian, and Ilph charged in the direction of the noise and were followed after by Rumil.   They rushed to a nearby clearing to find orcs ravishing a woman.   The apparent leader was on her, having his way with her while two of his compatriots held her arms down.   Two more orcs were nearby, threatening an oak tree with fire and axe.   Before the party could react to the menace, the sound of the approaching Rumil alerted the villains.   The orc leader stood up from the woman and knifed her, while the rest of the creatures prepared to fight.   The party hit hard, quickly killing four of the orcs.  The last, the leader, squared off against Rumil and defeated him.   As his friend fell, Shardis howled and charged the fleeing orc.  They clashed and the ranger came away the victor.

     However, her rescue did little to soothe the upset woman.   She explained that the party had saved her from nothing.  The orcs would only return and destroy her tree and her along with it.    At her words, the more astute members of the party immediately recognized her as a dryad.    Understanding that the party’s intentions had been good, she went to her tree to heal herself and then returned to heal the injured Rumil with some of the oak’s sap.   The dryad then propositioned them for their help.  The orcs were from a local raiding band that had been mistreating her for years.  With their friends’ deaths, they would come after the Dryad and destroy her.  With the promise of very visible reward, she asked the party to seek out the band and destroy them to insure the safety of her oak.

     After learning what they might have to face and what assistance the dryad could provide, the party agreed and began to make preparations.  Even Lugnut wanted to be involved, going so far as to prove his aim with a sling, and requesting a knife for close in fighting.  Castus went off with the little humanoid to help prepare him.  After a short discussion, it was decided to send the rangers on a reconnaissance of the orc camp while the others prepare their equipment for the assault.  The Dryad warned them to avoid capture, as the orc leader, Ubruxt, liked nothing better than prisoners for his amusement.  She also told them of a knight and squire that she saw in the area.

     The stealthy rangers made the journey without incident to themselves.  They did, however, see the knight that the Dryad described.  The rather foolish man marched up to the orc encampment and challenged Ubruxt.  The burly orc accepted and showed himself to be quite skillful, hammering the knight to unconsciousness with his double-handed axe.   Out of their nature, the rangers almost moved to the knight’s aid but thought better of it.  They saw a figure nearby do likewise-almost jumping up from cover to help the foolish man, but he too slid back into the safety provided by the heavy forest.

     At the camp, the party continued their preparations.  The dryad summoned her own allies and was answered by the heavy roars of two large predators.   Out of concern for the party’s mounts, she asked them to stay back from the camp until it is time to attack.  With the rangers’ return, the planning of the attack commenced, until interrupted by an unexpected visitor.  The captured knight’s squire, Gilles, entered the camp and quietly asked to be included the party’s attack.  He desired to rescue his knight and master.  After more discussion and a brief near visit by the Dryad’s guardians, the party retired to rest before the attack.

     The sky still dark with night, the party was awakened by the excitable kobold.  Castus handed each a mug of warm, sweet tea to wake them up as well as ward off the morning chill.   Finished, the party made their way down the pitch-black trail to the orc encampment, splitting into two groups.    The southern group was made up of the rangers, Bard Doran, Father Martin, Lugnut, and the mage Folly.  According to plan, they would attack the southern part of the camp, heading for the prisoners, and making as much noise as possible once in the camp proper.  The Northern group was made up of the knights, Brother Castus, the squire and Brother Rumil.  They would charge through the center of the camp, sweeping away random orcs as they arose from their beds. 

     The southern pickets were taken out in short order by bowshot and spell.  Then, the southern group charged into the camp and soon engaged sleepy orcs.  It proves to be a heavy engagement.   Lugnut showed himself to be especially vicious, hiding beneath the steps of a captured merchant wagon and attacking orcs exiting it from below. 

     Hearing the clamor from the south, Castus led the knights against the north.  As he dealt with the pickets, he sent the rest to charge through the camp and rejoin the others.  They never made it.  Around the central firepit, they were met by a large group of orcs led by Ubruxt and their shaman.  In ensuing melee, the hard-pressed heroes held off the charging horde, but at a cost.  The battle was finally resolved as their comrades attacked from the south and Ubruxt was slain in a one-on -one duel with Cain.

     Following the costly battle, the party tended to their wounded, freed the prisoners, and gathered anything of value.   The captured knight released his squire from his duties and offered up his armor to one of the knights in the party.  His time of captivity had shown him the error of his ways and he now sought the holy orders in recompense.  The knight would lead the prisoners to MoorWard and present the captured humanoids to justice there. 

     The party salvaged the merchant wagon for their own use and loaded it with the wounded and the booty from the camp.  Castus drove it back towards the camp using a nearby wagon trail.  The remainder of the party had to double time it back the way they came as to be there to tend to the wounded when the monk arrived.   At the camp, they unloaded the wagon of the wounded and supplies before hiding it nearby.   Then, doctored with the Dryad’s salve, they all went to their beds and sleep the clock around.

     The next morning, the group was awakened by the sounds of exertion.  Brother Castus was digging around the Dryad’s oak, apparently at her insistence.  He directed the newly awakened to partake of a kobold-produced breakfast while he finished his task, instructing the party to take a day of rest.  Later after much labor, the monk pulled forth several treasures from beneath the Dryad’s tree---including a pouchful of Imperial Acquilas, a strange blade, a ring and a black cloak.   After examining the newly discovered booty, the rest of the day was spent at leisure.

     After the day of rest, they once again found themselves back on the road.  Before they left, the Dryad produced one more reward, a crown of oak leaves that would identify them as friends to her kin.   The ride proceeded silently, the events of the past days having had their effect.   As they came to a bridge crossing a small stream, a black knight blocked the party.  He challenged any true arms bearer to face him, for he would not let them pass until they met him at arms.

     Sir Calimar accepted the challenge and met the mysterious knight in combat.    After several passes at arms, Calimar had his rival at a disadvantage and asked if he would yield.  The black knight forced his hand and Calimar ran him through.  In a matter of seconds, the mysterious knight crumbled into dust, to be replaced by an insubstantial phantom at the far end of the bridge.  The two knights locked eyes for a moment as if in silent communion and then the ghostly knight summoned a magnificent black war-horse from a nearby copse of trees.  Calimar took the lead of the animal.  Then as the ghost faded from view, he led the group across the bridge without explanation. 

     That night in camp, the party spent the evening examining some of the booty gained from the assault on the orc encampment.   With Father Martin’s help, they found several of the items to be magical in nature.

     The next morning found Brother Castus in a foul mood, and he remained that way for the rest of the day. At the evening meal, he apologized and explained that he had been involved in some calculations.  He told the party that the road pass purchased from the Wardens were good only for 11 days.  If they didn’t arrive in that time, a party would be sent out to find them, and that would incur a hefty penalty for everyone-a prospect that easily stirred up dread.    It was decided that starting the next morning the party would ride on for 36 hours straight. 

     It proved a long road, broken only by meals in the saddle and all too brief respites in the merchant wagon.  Initially, the trail was not bad, but with the second morning, the weather turned foul.  A drenching, bone-numbing gale began, making each mile a battle of wills.  Finally, with evening, their destination came into sight.  The Barrows, an abandoned Warden fort now used as a hospice, looked to be a beckoning beacon of paradise…or at least a warm bed and a hot meal.

Authors note: The story continues from here in narration 21, which is currently present on this web site.  This document will be updated as the game proceeds and time permits.