Dalron, human and incapable of learning the Elven arts of special sensory observation, infravision tracking, nor their unique spellcraft, learned the ways of foresting and learned to use his natural strengths to be a better fighter than most elves. Thus he had a certain amount of stature in an otherwise Elf-only society.

Dalron defeated the evil forces of the slaving lair, and took the prisoners back to his commander, General Saha. As they approached, the party could see the fortress from beyond the endless horizon of trees, a citadel constructed in an ancient tree spiraling toward the sky.

Nearing the gates, the party marched between two columns of well armed Elven WarMages (fighter/magi) who looked upon these outsiders with the same disdain Dalron felt for them. Upon reaching the gates, a horn was blown, and the General emerged, meeting them outside.

The ancient Elf looked at the party and their dirty torn Darokin uniforms, and decreed that they must be taken back to Darokin at once, such that they may fight and destroy the Orcan threat.

It was Dalron, of course, was picked for the job. None to his liking.

Two Elven rangers accompanied Dalron, and the rest of the party was denied access to their weapons. These were hard times in Alfhiem, and strangers were not a welcome sight, especially deserters. The bad magic points in the forest were growing. It was widely whispered that the Tree of Life was dying, though no Elf would truly believe it.

They marched a full day outside the citadel, the two Elven rangers taking a zigzag path to avoid the bad magic points of twisted trees. Uneasy, the party settled in for the night.

A ruckus woke Dalron from his slumber, and he was quick to arms. A pack of Giant Shrews (known to common Darokin folk as ROUS'es) and descended upon the encampment, hungry for meat. He and his ranger comrades faced off with the pack, and quickly his two aids fell. Before Dalron could object, the rest of the party scavenged over the corpses, and regained their weapons. Dalron and these deserters fought against the Shrews, crazed with the smell of blood and fear. In they end, they had no choice but to flee the encampment, and leave the bodies of the two rangers for the Shrews. Dalron, short on supplies and trustable aids, had no choice but to turn back for reinforcements.

The Alfhiem party, complete with weapons and one member richer progressed back through the forest and, due to Dalron’s lack of any magical sense, came into a bad magic point.

Magic points in the Forest of Alfhiem represent intersections of the mystic ley-lines that cover the planet. Each intersection/node/point can be deemed either good or bad depending on whether it reflects the positive or negative prime elemental and material planes. Thus basically bad magic points are riddled with curses and undead, while good magic points are full of fairies and healing potions.

In this bad magic point, they found a terribly scarred mage named Kavinau. At first Kavinau did not want to travel with them, but then a pack of ghouls sprouted from the bad magic point. The ghouls approached the badly wounded party, and there seemed little they could offer in defense. A young Elven mage sprang up from behind the trees, and wasted the horrid creatures before they could have they’re way with the party members. Disturbingly to the rest of the party, Kavinau knelt down beside a writhing undead body, and filled three vials with its blood. The elf mage eyed Kavinau suspiciously, and asked him a question in a magi tongue he did not understand. She whispered a warning to Dalron, and then led the limping party back to Saha’s Citadel. Kavinau and Despot became friends quickly, some how knowing that they were two of a kind.