As of 2/20/98
Match 3
Kale, Byric, and Yaran face off against 2 ogres
armed with spears and large wooden shields
and
1 earth elemental
Match 3 Begins: Prior to Turn 1
. . . Jerrie stood quickly, pushing the stool off to the side. "Rest up, lads, and get your weapons and armor ready. Leave your normal equipment here, though, else you want a back full of arrows like your orc friend. They'll be calling you out in a little bit." With that, Jerrie Two-Toes turned and made his way across the large room. A final wave of his small, stubby hand, and Jerrie was gone.
The three young adventurers found themselves each an empty cot and proceeded to take Jerrie up on his advice. While Kale wished he had remembered to pick up the wand that one orc had used back in the arena, and while Yaran wished that his previous cry of divinity had been spoken differently--something simplier, or more flowery, or perhaps not even at all--Byric wished he hadn't bitten the orc's nose off. "Never have I tasted something so foul," Byric mumbled to himself for the hundredth time as he spat imaginary orc flesh out of his mouth.
"This might help, brother," Justine the healer said as he handed Byric a handful of mint leaves. Byric took the leaves from the slender man and nodded his thanks, tossing several of them into his mouth. Shortly after, Byric was sighing and smiling, pleased with the minty taste.
"How long do you think we're going to have to wait?" Kale asked as he prepared his own weapons and armor for the next match. Expertly, the young fighter slipped into his studded leather armor and strapped on his kotes--armored sleeves that protected much the same way buckler shields did. After positioning his throwing daggers, Kale readied his two enchanted weapons: his dagger and his long sword. Let us hope that our next opponents are from beyond the grave, Kale thought to himself as he rested his hand upon the hilt of his long sword, Silverblade. However, he added in thought, an uneasy chill creeping down his back, lycanthropes might be better.
"Any time now, I should think," Byric replied as he, too, slipped into his suit of studded leather armor and readied his own weapons: a long bow, spear, and dagger, the latter of which having been enchanted several years back.
"Ohhh, just a bit longer," Yaran said with a smile, his body slipping into a comfortable position upon the cot. "I feel the need to become one with this cot." Unlike his two companions, Yaran was more or less ready for the next match. He already wore his enchanted rope, with his shuriken tucked away within. And he had already slipped his wand into one of the robe's front pockets. All he needed now was some peace and-
"On your feet!" an armored guard shouted at the three young adventurers as he blasted his way through the large wooden double-doors that led into the arena. "Time for some fun."
"Swell."
Byric, Kale, and Yaran followed the armored guard out of the large room and into the openness of the Executioner's Pit. As they cleared the large doorway, the patrons of the Pit exploded with cheers and cries of victory. In a rather short time, the three had become somewhat famous. "It won't last," the armored guard said above the noise of the crowd. "You three get killed an' another three will take your place. These people love anyone, an' anything, that wins. Makes 'em coin, ya know."
As before, the three were led to the center of the arena. With a nod of his head and a less-than-sincere "Good luck," the armored guard turned and made his way back into the large room to the south, the double-doors closing behind him.
"I wonder what it'll be this time," Kale said, eyeing the large double-doors to the east. Six goblins the first match and three orcs the second, Kale thought to himself, tallying up the day's opponents thus far. Will it be humanoid, or perhaps a weaker dragonkind, or maybe a-
The young fighter's thoughts were cut short as the large double-doors to the east slowly swung open. "Oops," Kale said - "Whoa," Byric added - and "Swell," Yaran concluded as the three young adventurers eyed the largest and meanest looking pair of ogre warriors they had ever seen come forth from the darkness of the chamber beyond the eastern double-doors. Each ogre stood well over nine feet tall and had to bend down slightly to clear the doorway. A thin tunic of animal hide covered the ogre's blackish-yellow skin, their dark, dirty green hair hanging low past their shoulders. The two almost looked like twins as they adjusted large wooden shields held in their left hands and spears held in their right.
"How's the stomach?" Yaran asked Byric.
"So far, so good," the cleric-ranger replied. With a slight smile, he asked, "Yours?"
"I think I might toss my morning meal."
"If so, try to hit one of them," Kale said, winking at the Zambarian mage. "It might distract it."
"Thanks for the advice." With that, the large double-doors to the east closed, and the two ogres advanced toward the trio.
Turn 1
Slowly, the two ogres lumbered toward the three young adventurers, the creature's footfalls hard and slightly unbalanced. As the two ogres drew closer to Byric, Yaran, and Kale, the trio noticed a foul stench coming from the east. To the north, the three could see a short, plump man standing near the edge of the pavillion, his arms stretched in the general direction of the ogres.
Kale Lightweaver
Kale dug his heels in slightly as he drew his enchanted dagger, Telsen's Returning Blade. "Let's concentrate our fire and take one out before they reach us," Kale said to his two companions as he arched his arm back. "The one on the right?" With a flip of his wrist, Kale sent Telsen's Returning Blade soaring end-over-end toward the southernly ogre. The blade missed the beast by mere finger-lengths, but because of the enchantment placed upon the weapon, the dagger returned to Kale's waiting hand. Instantly, Kale arched his arm back and, with another flip of the wrist, sent the magical blade racing once again toward the ogre. This time the dagger hit its intended mark, sinking deep into the ogre's chest. A thick stream of dark crimson poured from the chest wound, covering the ogre's skin tunic. The ogre, however, seemed unaffected by the wound that would have knocked a normal man, even an orc, off his feet.
Yaran Tashimato
"YYAAWWPP!" Yaran exclaimed as he made his way to the other side of Kale. "Prepare to die, ogre bastards!" Yaran closed his eyes for but a few moments, muttering several words from an unrecognizable language. As his eyes opened once again, Yaran shouted. "You're so far down the evolutionary ladder, you stare up at the foot of the snail!" Yaran glanced over at Byric and Kale and saw that the two were looking at him with confusion etched across their faces. Yaran winked at his two companions. "Watch this!" he said, gliding the palms of his hands over his robe.
Byric Lugh
Byric turned from Yaran to the ogre on the right. Quickly, he placed his spear upon the ground next to him and slipped his bow off his shoulder, removing two sheaf arrows from his quiver as he did so. "Goddess Kallissa, guide my arrows," Byric whispered as he nocked the first arrow, "so they may fly true and return these monsters to whatever vile, dark god spawned them." With that, the cleric-ranger released the first arrow. An instant later, the tip of the sheaf arrow dug deep into the ogre's chest, less than one finger-length away from where the hilt of Kale's enchanted blade protruded. With a nod of satisfaction, Byric nocked and released the second arrow. Unlike the first, this arrow missed the ogre. Byric's left eye twitched slightly as the speed of the sheaf arrow embedded it into the large double-doors to the east.
Byric returned his attention to the wounded ogre and noticed that the creature didn't seem affected not only by his sheaf arrow, but by the dagger thrown by Kale only moments before. Suddenly, the stench from the east became more intense.
Turn 2
As the ogres grew closer to the three young adventurers, so did the foul stick. Although their advance was constant, the ogres seemed too far away for an attack.
Kale Lightweaver
Kale flipped the wrist of his out-stretched hand once. Instantly, Telsen's Returning Blade slipped free from the ogre's chest and into Kale's hand, a stream of stink following in the dagger's wake. "Ack!" Kale coughed as he slipped the enchanted blade back into its sheath, only to pull out two normal daggers. "Drop them before they knock us out with that awful stink!" Kale arched his arm back once, twice, releasing the pair of daggers at the ogre to the south. Whether it was the foul smell or just bad luck, Kale knew not which. Regardless, both daggers missed their mark.
Yaran Tashimato
"Umm, you guys might want to duck . . . er . . . something!" Yaran shouted to his two companions as he retrieved his Wand of Wonder from within his robe. He lifted the enchanted wand in the air and said, "This usually does something interesting!" With that, Yaran pointed the wand at the ogre to the south. Unrecognizable words slipped through his lips as he twirled the wand slowly. Suddenly, a white blast shot forth from the tip of the wand. For a brief moment, Yaran was blinded by the light. "Wahooooo!" the Zambarian magician said as he shook the dancing stars out of his line of sight. By the time Yaran regained his sight, he almost wished he hadn't. His nose cringed as Yaran looked at what remained of the ogre to the south - two bloody stumps attached to large, flat feet. Yaran cringed again when he saw that Kale and Byric, who had been standing closer to the ogre than he, were covered from head to toe with bits of bloody ogre flesh.
Byric Lugh
Despite the fact that this was the second time in the same day he had tasted the foulest of the foul, Byric continued on with his planned attack. He grasped his holy symbol with his right hand and closed his eyes. "By the Second Moon, Goddess of Nature, Mistress of the Night Sky, give up this semblance of life and return it to the slumber of death as it was meant to be." Byric then took in a long, deep breath as his eyes slowly opened. In a fury of holy magic, Byric reached with his left hand toward the ogre to the north and shouted, "Kallissa compels you!" At first, the ogre continued on with its slow, wobbled advance. But as the power Byric's pray started to take hold, the ogre began to jolt and vibrate violently. Suddenly, the creature turned, running away from the young cleric-ranger and his holy magic.
Out of the corner of his eye, Byric could see the short, plump man atop the pavillion waving his fists in the air, apparently upset at something.
Turn 3
As the last of the two ogres made its way toward the pavillion, staggering across the dusty ground, the creature dropped first its shield, and then its spear.
Byric Lugh
"Okay, guys," Byric said as he nocked an arrow along his long bow, "it's undead and I've turned it for now. We need to finish it before it gets its courage to come near me again." Keeping half an eye on the retreating ogre, Byric glanced up at the short, plump man standing atop the pavillion. "Is there a problem, your rotundness?" Byric asked, addressing the man. As he did so, Jerrie Two Toes appeared from behind the plump man, standing to his rear and left. Byric couldn't discern what the look on Jerrie's face meant, except that the old Havanathe appeared to be slightly distressed. To the young cleric-ranger, this mattered not. "I've followed the rules to the letter," Byric continued. "No spells! Your minion is running from no spell, but a prayer! Through the will of my goddess it sees my true faith and is repelled by it!" Byric could see Jerrie waving his stubby hands over his frantically shaking head. "So sit down and be quiet!" Byric said to the plump man atop the pavillion. To this Jerrie began slipping his right index finger across his throat, mouthing something Byric couldn't understand. "Or come down here to finish the job!" At this, Jerrie began jumping up and down, flapping his arms like a mad bird. As for Byric, the one-sided conversation wasn't quite over. "If you can!" Now, it was over.
Jerrie slapped the side of his face with a stubby hand, turned, and disappeared behind the short, plump man who, by the time Byric had finished his challenging banter, had begun chanting phrases alien to the three young adventurers within the Executioner's Pit. The only two things that Byric were sure of at that point were that the undead ogre was still running away, and that the uneasy feeling growing within his stomach wasn't from the crappy breakfast he ate.
Kale Lightweaver
"Stinks like month old meat," Kale lamented as he slipped Telsen's Returning Blade from its sheath once again. With an arch of his arm and a flick of his wrist, Kale sent the enchanted blade racing toward the ogre. As Telsen's Returning Blade sunk deep into the ogre's back, the undead creature let out a groan that sounded as though it originated from within the depths of Abilloth's domain. Kale reached out his hand and the enchanted blade responded: an instant after striking the ogre once, Telsen's Returning Blade was racing back to Kale's waiting hand, only to be thrown again at the retreating monster. This time the enchanted blade dug deep into the ogre's skull.
Yaran Tashimato
As Byric finished his verbal barrage, and as Kale tossed Telsen's Returning Blade for a second time, Yaran danced away from the retreating ogre, hopping and cheering for himself. "Yaaaaa-woohoo!" Yaran blasted at the top of his lungs, causing the patron's of the Executioner's Pit to roar even louder themselves. "Die, stupid ogre!" Yaran chanted, his eyes fixed on the bloody remains the of ogre he had just imploded. "Bow before the power of the wand of unusual results! Waahh-ha-hoo!"
Turn 4
The undead ogre continued its retreat toward the pavillion and, apparently, the short, plump man standing atop it. As the undead creature closed the gap between itself and its master, the ogre passed dangerously close to the oval-shaped moat, kicking in a chunk of dirt and breaking the stillness of the water's surface.
Kale Lightweaver
Kale extended his hand out toward the retreating ogre, recalling Telsen's Returning Blade. As he slipped the magical dagger back into its sheath, the young fighter grasped the hilt of Silverblade, his blessed and enchanted long sword, and slipped it free from its scabbard. "So daggers don't work, eh?" Kale muttered to himself as he began an advance on the undead ogre, kicking up dirt as his legs began pumping faster and faster. "Let's see if I can't chop you down to size!"
Yaran Tashimato
"Uh, oh," Yaran sputtered as he watched the short, plump man atop the pavillion. Despite the fact that he was rather proficient in all sorts of spellcraft, Yaran wasn't able to discern exactly what bit of magic the man was attempting to weave. The only thing he was sure of was that it fell within the schools of conjuration and summoning, and that the power of the spell was being directed in the area of the moat. The Zambarian mage glanced down at the oval-shaped river of water and the small island that it surrounded, wondering whether or not to run toward the water for protection, or away from it, again for protection.
Byric Lugh
"Guys, watch out," Byric said to his two companions as he stalked straight toward the pavillion and the short, plump man standing atop it. "Lardo has decided to join the fight." I hate necromancers, Byric added in thought as he pulled back on the bowstring. With his eyes still locked on the short, plump man, Byric addressed the taller man clad in the white robe; the man who had announced the beginning and end of the last two matches. "M'lord, this wizard is in bad form, attacking us from your pavillion because we defeated his pets." Byric could see the brow of the taller man in white furrow slightly as he held his hands up before his face. With a quick double-slap of his hands, the taller man in white turned and walked out of sight, seeming to cleanse himself of the current situation
Grinding his teeth in frustration, Byric turned his attention back to the short, plump man. To Byric, it seemed as though his bit of conversation with the taller man in white had no affect on the short, plump man, for he continued to chant unknown words, waving and motioning with his hands in the general direction of the moat. "Stop your casting, wizard, or you make yourself a fair target in this game!" Byric shouted as he lifted his drawn bow slightly. "A target that would not be hard to miss from here!" Byric rolled his eyes quickly form the left to the right, and then back again, hoping to see what the archers on the walls were doing. It appeared to Byric that, instead of drawing a bead on the young cleric-ranger, the archers were uneasily pacing the top of the outer wall, with their long bows at their sides. As Byric returned his gaze back to the short, plump man, he saw out of the corner of his eye one of the archers jumping up and down, pointing in the direction of the moat. As this happened, the short, plump man raised his arms high into the air, foreign words raging from his mouth like molten lava from a violent volcano. With a single clap of his hands, the short man dropped his arms so that they both were outstretched toward the moat.
Suddenly, the ground within the Executioner's Pit began to tremble. The excited cheers coming from the patrons turned into cries of confusion and terror as the dirt surface of the moat-encirled island began to explode. Chunks of dirt the size of a man's head were thrown into the air as though they were pine cones, crashing into the inner walls of the arena, as well as several of the patrons. A cloud of dust quickly engulfed the island as the chunks of dirt continued to rain down on the patrons and the three young adventurers. Byric turned his face away from the madness forming on the island as a volley of dirt crashed into him. The sound of the exploding earth slowly gave way to a deep-throated gurgle, and then a groan. As the dust cloud disappeared and the hail of dirt ceased, Byric turned back, his eyes falling on a sight he thought he would never see, and one he wished he hadn't. Standing atop what was left of the small moat-encircled island was what he could only guess at as being an earth elemental, towering well over fifteen-feet tall and dwarfing the undead ogre that stood to its right, on the other side of the moat. Slowly, the earth elemental turned from the pavillion, its dark eyes falling on the three young adventurers.
As Byric swallowed back a lump that had formed in his throat, his saw the short, plump man laughing wildly. Scanning the top of the outer wall, Byric saw the archers drawing back on their bowstrings, taking aim on the newly summoned creature. The game was still the same; the rules, however, had changed.
Turn 5
The ground shook as the earth elemental lumbered slowly toward the large plank of wood making up the bridge that extended across the small moat. From atop the outer wall of the Executioner's Pit, the archers plucked off arrow after arrow at the summoned creature, but to no avail; their arrows bounced off the earth elemental like feathers against a stone wall. As the huge creature took another step, the undead orc, standing on the edge of the oval-shaped moat, lost its footing and slipped into the choppy water. The short, plump man standing atop the pavillion appeared slightly displeased by this, for his evil cackling ceased. In the mean time, the patrons of the Executioner's Pit were fighting between themselves as they raced out of the arena.
Kale Lightweaver
Kale sheathed Silverblade as he raced over to the large plank of wood that spanned the small moat. As the earth elemental lumbered closer to the bridge, Kale spat on his hands and rubbed them together. Bending slightly at the knees, the young fighter gripped the wooden bridge firmly, attempting to pull the bridge out. When he found that the plank of wood wasn't going anywhere fast, Kale tried to topple the bridge over into the moat. But the wooden plank was just too large and too heavy for the fighter. In a last effort, Kale yanked Silverblade from its sheath and began hacking away at the wooden bridge.
Yaran Tashimato
"Kale, step back!" Yaran shouted at the young fighter. Kale paused from hacking at the wooden bridge to look up at the Zambarian mage, realizing that Yaran was preparing for another bit of magic. The young fighter jogged to the right as Yaran began a soft chant of foreign words that seemed to originate from somewhere deeper that his own soul, floating effortlessly past his lips. With his right hand extended toward the wooden bridge, Yaran cast a small volley of magical missiles. In a brilliant flash of sparks and exploding white light, the Zambarian mage's missiles of magic cut the wooden bridge into three pieces, each toppling into the oval-shaped moat. With a smile and a nod of his head, Yaran slid the palms of his hands across his magical robe, preparing yet another bit of magic.
Byric Lugh
"What in the nine hells is that?!" Byric shouted as he took aim on the short, plump man standing atop the pavillion. As Kale began chopping vigorously at the wooden plank with his long sword, Byric said softly, "Goddess of nature, Mistress of the Night Sky, guide this arrow's flight so that it may strike true." With that, the young cleric-ranger released the flight arrow. By the time his had a second arrow nocked, the first one had cleared the distance between Byric and the plump man. But before Byric let fly his second arrow, the first smashed into an invisible barrier of some sort, erected directly in front of the short man. As Byric lowered his long bow slightly, he watched as Kale stepped away from the wooden bridge and, a few moments later, Yaran destroyed it with a bit of Zambarian magic.
"Over here, lads!" The voice came from behind Byric. The cleric-ranger raised his long bow as he pivoted. Standing near the two large doors on the south-side of the arena was Jerrie Two-Toes, the Havanathe waving the three young adventurers over. "It's a pointless fight, lads!" Jerrie shouted. "Come with me!"
Turn 6
With the wooden bridge out of commission, the three young adventurers thought the earth elemental was trapped on the small island. The mad cackle of the short, plump mad standing atop the pavillion, just prior to his vanishing, told them different. So slowy at first that it was hard to notice, the earth elemental began sinking into the surface of the island.
Kale Lightweaver
"I'll circle around to the other side!" Kale shouted as he switched Silverblade from his right hand to his left and drew Telsen's Returning Blade, flipping it end-over-end at the slowly sinking earth elemental. "Maybe if we attack it from both sides, it'll have trouble deciding which way to leave the island!" Kale continued as he moved around the small moat. The magical dagger struck the creature's head, chopping off a large chunk of dirt and rubble before returning to Kale's out-stretched hand. As he arched his arm back, preparing himself for yet another dagger attack, Kale glanced over his shoulder at his two companions. "Hey! Where you going?!"
Yaran Tashimato
Yaran set one foot in front of the other as fast as he could, kicking up dust as he raced toward Jerrie Two-Toes. "I'm coming Jerrie!" the Zambarian mage shouted as he advanced on the old Havanathe, putting distance between himself and the elemental.
Byric Lugh
"So be it, wizard," Byric mumbled to himself as he watched the short, plump man standing atop the pavillion wink out of sight. "You have made your choice," he continued as he turned and started running toward where Jerrie Two-Toes stood. "By the gods, I will send you to meet Abilloth before this day is done!" As he drew closer to the old Havanathe, Byric said to Jerrie, "Good friend, which way out of here? I need to get to that pavillion before innocents are harmed!"
Jerrie grabbed Byric's lower arm, giving him a quick tug to slow him down. "He's a cleric, Byric," Jerrie explained to the young cleric-ranger. "An evil priest of Vogg'an, and he's gone. Worry not about him, lad, as well as those innocents you speak of. By my eight toes gone, I haven't seen the likes of an innocent in Freeman's End since I don't know when." As Yaran drew closer, Jerrie raised his voice so both men could here. "Grab you gear and ready yourselves in the room yonder," Jerrie said, tossing a stubby thumb over his shoulder. "This day has not gone as it should, and I'm afraid part of it is my fault. But I'll explain that later. Go and get your gear ready, and let me see if I can't get out friend Kale to join you two."
Jerrie stepped into the arena a few feet and cupped his mouth with his hands. "Kale, you've fought the good fight," the Havanathe shouted, "but the good fight is over with for this day! Now get your courageous ass in here before I kick it in!" Jerrie then tiled his head back. "Archers, take aim on the elemental! Enchanted arrows only! Fire at will!" With that, the archers atop the outer wall sent a volley of arrows down upon the sinking earth elemental. Although many of the arrows bounced off the creature, several hit their mark and seemed to do some damage, for bits of dirt flew this way and that. "The archers have it, Kale!" Jerrie shouted. "Come on!"
Conclusion
As Kale turned to face Jerrie Two-Toes, the head of the earth elemental sank into the ground. "Some other day, then," Kale said to himself as he slipped Silverblade and Telsen's Returning Blade back into their sheaths. With a final glance at the small island, Kale turned and ran toward Jerrie and his two companions. As Kale neared the two large wooden doors on the south end of the arena, the sound of grinding stone made the young fighter stop and turn. Almost as slowly as it had disappeared into the surface of the island, the earth elemental began to rise up from the ground, but on the opposite side of the moat. "By the gods!" Kale said in amazement, staring wide-eyed at the growing creature.
"That's how they get from one side of a body of water to the other!" Jerrie shouted. "They move through the ground! We've still got time, Kale! Move it!"
The earth elemental had risen up to its chest when Kale turned back and made his way to Jerrie's side. He quickly followed the Havanathe into the large room where the three young adventurers had first met and saw Yaran and Byric standing at the ready, with their gear packed. Kale's pack and supplies were also ready, sitting atop a cot on the left. "I took the liberty," Yaran said with a slight smile and wink.
"Best be moving, lads," Jerrie said as he briskly walked past the three and across the room. Kale look at Byric and then Yaran, the latter shrugging his shoulders as he grabbed his pack and followed after Jerrie. Byric and Kale were close behind, and soon the three found themselves following Jerrie through the crowded streets of Freeman's End. "Are these people in for a surprise!" Jerrie laughed as he glanced over his shoulder at the Executioner's Pit. "That elemental should be breaking out of the arena pretty s--" Jerrie's sentence was cut short as the outer wall of the arena exploded, sending chunks of rock and debris raining down on the merchants closest to the Executioner's Pit. Through the dust, the three young adventurers were able to see the earth elemental slowly making its way out of the arena, kicking aside citizens and militiamen alike. "Keep moving, lads."
Some time later, Kale, Yaran, and Byric found themselves atop three fresh horses that had been supplied by an old friend of Jerrie's. "He knows everyone," Kale commented while they were saddling up. With Freeman's End and the earth elemental behind them, Jerrie led the three adventurers to a small clearing next to a fresh water pond. As the three horses and Jerrie's pony drank their fill at the water's edge, Jerrie sat Kale, Yaran, and Byric down for a little chat.
"Things haven't gone as planned, lads," Jerrie began as he slowly stroked his chin.
"Yes, you said that before," Byric said as he took a swig out of a wine skin, passing it on to Kale.
"Please, lads, let me explain everything." Jerrie paused as he took the wine skin from Kale and drank deeply, passing it on to Yaran. "As I told Byric here, that short, plump man standing atop the pavillion wasn't a wizard; he was a cleric, an evil priest from one of the Vogg'an sects found here in Langington. I saw him talking with Grand Marshall Terrun--the tall man wearing the white robes. At the time, I wasn't sure who he was, although I knew I had seen hims before. Near the end of your second match, I made my way up to the pavillion to have a little chat with Terrun--he and I are old friends--and I learned that the opponents for your third match were going to be undead."
"I didn't know that they could do that," Kale said. "Have undead warriors in the arena, I mean."
"Yes, well, normally they don't," Jerrie explained. "Finding it a bit odd, I asked Terrun who would be controlling the undead creatures, and he told me that a cleric from the local temple dedicated to Nivina would be assisting in the games. But when the cleric arrived, I knew from the get-go that he wasn't a follower of Nivina." Jerrie took the wine skin from Yaran and again drank deeply, returning the empty skin to Byric before continuing on. "So I came down and chatted with you three after the second match, and then made my way back up to the pavillion, while making a couple of bets along the way. When I finally realized that the cleric was a fellow by the name of Kharrek, I put two and two together."
"And you got four?" Yaran asked, confused.
Jerrie shook his head as he laughed. "Zambarian humor. No, Yaran. I realized that Kharrek was sent here to make sure that you three, and whoever else I was planning on recruiting for an expedition to Sunak Island, in the Sea of Sorrow, would never make it there."
"An expedition for what?" Kale asked.
Jerrie leaned in slightly. "I made mention to you three earlier that I might have some work for you down in Watersmeet," Jerrie said in a soft voice, looking slowly from one adventurer to the next. "It has to do with an expedition to Sunak Island. There isn't time enough to go into details right now. All I can say is that there's a whole lot of crons in it for you three, if you're interested." Jerrie smiled as he stood quickly, walking over to where he pony stood grazing. In time, the Havanathe returned with three mid-sized sacks. He dropped a sack in front of Kale, and then Yaran, and finally Byric, each sack jingling as it hit the ground. "There's eight-hundred crons in each sack, lads," Jerrie said as he sat back down. "I took your winnings from the first two matches--twenty crons total for each of you, thank you very much--and made a few bets."
"Of course, you took your ten percent," Kale said, smiling wide as he lifted his sack of gold.
"Twenty, me boy," Jerrie replied with a wink. "But who's counting." As the three young adventurers opened their sacks of gold, examining the coins with utter delight in their eyes, Jerrie said, "Listen up, now. You three need to head on down to Watersmeet as soon as possible."
"How soon?" Byric asked.
"Well, now would be great," Jerrie replied. "Hold up down there for about a month until things in Freeman's End cool off and people stop looking for you, cause they're going to be. Yaran, there are several schools of magic in Watersmeet where you can hone your skills, or perhaps learn a new spell or two. Just mention my name at any of them. Byric, I know of a few Master Rangers who live just outside of Watersmeet that would be more than happy to lend a hand in training you a bit. But if that's not what you're interested in, then you can talk to the cleric that runs the temple dedicated to Kallissa. Just tell him that Jerrie Double-T sent you. And Kale, there are two excellent training halls in Watersmeet for fighters. Let them know I sent you and you shouldn't have any problems." Jerrie stood once again and walked over to his pony. With a slight jump and a flip of a stubby leg, Jerrie was sitting pretty in his saddle. "Just follow the Nehm River south until you hit the foothills of the Twins. You should be able to catch a barge to Watersmeet. Today is the fifth day of Summer's End; I'll meet you three in Watersmeet on the fifth of Midseason, or my name isn't Jerrie Two-Toes!" Jerrie kicked up his heels, sending his pony off down the road in a gallop. "Make haste, lads!" Jerrie shouted over his shoulder. "I'll see you in a month!"
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