Ylrhea takes a look behind her before crossing through the portal. You all find yourselves in a mist-covered wood, a wide trail just a few feet ahead of you. The blue shimmering light from the portal fades, leaving just a wall of trees behind you. In the afternoon light, you can see the deep ruts of wagon wheels running along the trail. To your left, you see a small village, smoke rising from chimneys. A cold wind blows and Ylrhea rubs her arms.
"It could be safe. Maybe we should check it out?" the gnome asks. "Does anyone have any money?"
She spots something in the brush nearby and inspects it. She pulls a small, jingling sack from a bush. "Well, never mind that then. Seems fortune decided to favor us for once."
"Are we still on the island?" Drago asked looking around, "Or even our plane?"
"There's no telling," Ylrhea says, going through the contents of the sack. "Hm, some rations, a waterskin and some gold. Why don't you and I see what's going on in the village, Drago? Mortimus can come along as well."
Grawfir screws up his nose. "What're you tryin' to say?"
"We don't know what kind of people live there. They might not like bugbears. Desna knows I don't."
"Whatever," the bugbear grumbles. "You can leave those rations with us, then."
Ylrhea hands the bugbear the four trail rations carefully. "Ready then?"
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"If they were, the town would be on fire," the gnome jokes.
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You walk into the small village. As Ylrhea assumed, humans mill about the area. The various buildings seem indicative of a trading town, lumber and ore specifically. The villagers regard you with a wary eye as you pass through. The gnome seems to take in this bit of civilization with a grateful eye. She points to a cozy building next to some stables. A large wooden sign hangs over the door. The Gilded Princess Inn, the sign reads.
"Let's start our investigation here. Followed by a hot meal and warm bath, I hope," Ylrhea says excitedly.
Drago, being suspicious at this whole scene, kept his eyes open for anything that might be a threat.
Drago doesn't see anything out of the ordinary as you walk into the inn. The fire from the hearth warms your bones. Ylrhea looks about and approaches the innkeeper.
"Where are we, good sir? We are travelers and we think we have lost our way," the gnome says, casually omitting certain facts.
"Travelers, eh? You look to be more like adventurers," the innkeeper says, scratching his beard. "How lost are you?"
"We have come from Zahvroma recently."
"Well, you are quite lost I suppose, if you've come from that cursed isle. You are in Arden, village of East Alarion."
Ylrhea seems stunned by the revelation. "I see...can we get some food and wine?"
"Indeed," the innkeeper says, heading to the kitchen.
Ylrhea returns to you. "Well, we're still on the same plane, but we're quite a ways north from where we were."
"I must go back to Zahvroma," Ylrhea says, settling at a table. "My friends are still there...what's left of them anyway. And I must have my revenge."
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"I do as well. Besides, I believe it's my responsibility to correct some mistakes of my past." The Dhampir states. "And kill that b@#%* of a mother of mine, once and for all." He added under his breath.
The innkeeper returns with three plates of hot chicken and cornbread, along with a pitcher of wine. "So you said you came from Zahvroma?"
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"In a manner of speaking, yes." He answered bluntly.
"There was a man and some of his companions that came through a few days ago. They said they were from Zahvroma, as well," the innkeeper relays. "The man dressed a bit funny, had one of those plague doctor's masks. Said they were headed to Shadowed Keep. There have been a few disappearances around here lately...I didn't know if you knew him or not. Didn't look like the trustworthy sort, if you get my drift."
Stopping in mid drink, Drago slowly put his cup down and asked, "Did he mention his name?"
"No, he never did mention that."
Could it be? Drago thought. "Where is Shadowed Keep, and is there someone who can take us there?"
"The Keep is on a path outside the village. It's a pretty well-worn path. You should talk to the mayor, he was offering a reward not too long ago to anyone who'd investigate the keep."
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"What kind of reward?"
"It was five hundred gold, I believe."
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Taking one last swig of his drink, Drago stood up, placed his mug on the table, and asked, "Which way to the Mayor?"
"Take a right outside the door and come around the rear of the inn. His house is up that path. It's the only one."
The gnome glares at Drago, her cheeks puffed out and a bit of chicken hanging out of her mouth. "Ah habub funush muh chiggen yeb."
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"Okay you finish that, I'm going out for some fresh air. I need some time to process the last few days."
Stepping outside, Drago leaned up against the tavern and looked up at the sky. How are you going to get back to them? You don't even know where you are really. His thoughts drifted towards Aliethia and his mother. Those b~!@~es are going to burn. He vowed silently.
"From what it sounds like, yes," Ylrhea says, wiping her mouth. "I am too. Especially since one of those necromancers from Zahvroma is here and has taken an interest in the keep as well."
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Ylrhea finishes her meal, pays the innkeeper three gold coins and walks outside. The gnome stops in front of Drago. "Are you alright?"
Drago flashed a look to the gnome, "Let's see you kill someone, have them come back and rape you repeatedly. And worse yet, have it completely sanctioned by your mother. How would you be?"
The gnome offers Drago a hand. "Probably the same way I feel. Ixen always had urges..."
He took her hand and sat silent looking at the sky.
"We should go ahead and see the mayor. Mortimus didn't seem that interested in exploring the keep. Though I don't know how he's going to afford a boat home," Ylrhea says after a moment.
"Well then, let's see the mayor."
As you walk around the path leading to the mayor's house, the sun begins its descent below the horizon. Ylrhea keeps her hand in Drago's.
"I have a couple of questions, if you don't mind me asking."
"Depends on the questions."
"Well, the first is...what was the deal with Aliethia? Seemed like she loved you, but hated you at the same time. The second question is...well, is there another girl...waiting for you?" the gnome asks, her cheeks reddening at the second question.
"Well...... we had a moment, many years ago. Then I killed her. Some time back, we met again, but this time, she was a zombie and she nearly killed me. After that, I met Elena and we shared a night. I'm not sure I'd consider her special to me, but her life is certainly in danger because of me." There seemed to be a hint of regret in his voice.
"I...see," the gnome says, processing the answers. "In any case, I'll help you however I can. Plus, if you know Cyna Singer, then we should stick together."
"What's your relationship with her?" Drago inquired.
"She is part of a group I'm in: the Green Circle. She's a little further along in her training than I am. I kinda envied her...she got to go on interesting missions by herself and I'm mostly a tag-along," Ylrhea says, as you reach the mayor's door.
It is a short green house with white trim. A large brass knocker in the shape of a wolf's head hangs on the front door.
"Would you prefer that I knock?" Ylrhea asks Drago, her orange hair obscuring half of her face in an alluring way.
"That might be a good idea."
The gnome grabs a hold of the brass knocker and raps it against the door three times. "It would be easier if I was taller."
A middle-aged man opens the door. His hair is raven black with streaks of white at the temples and a pair of elegant reading glasses are perched precariously on his nose. "Yes? I..."
He stops for a moment, adjusts the reading glasses and looks at Drago curiously. "Alexandros, is that you?"
***
Mortimus returns to the monstrous portion of the party.
"Well?" Grawfir asks, sniffing in the air. He has one foot firmly planted on the goblin's back.