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You arrive at a grassy spot surrounded by trees where the creek bends around you.  You can see about a hundred metres along the creek to both the south, where it runs in the distance to the great Lake Kershaw, only splitting towards Terris, the capital of the Kalmnel province, and from there along the main river out to sea, and to the east, making its way towards the Silver Eagle monastery somewhere out there in the land unknown to you.

The three of you take a seat on the grass and talk about your week and your plans for the weekend, and what you want to check out at tonights Harvest Festival.  You don't know whether or not you want to go for a swim today. 

Don't swim

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Author Guidance for this Story

UltimaDan A basic, typical fantasy style story with all the classic elements - elves in the forest, dwarves underground, old wizards in towers and the like. It's largely just to experiment with the form more than anything, although the idea formed ages ago before I got depressed.

The idea is that about a dozen characters meet each other along the way on a perilous journey north into the heart of evil/darkness/symbolic force thereof.

Arrith and co head north-west to the capital, Pasaveer, a day or two out from their home town of Terris. Kemvar accompanies them. They are looking for information about a cursed armour, shield and weapon that one of the goblin leaders mutters something about. On your trail is the men with wolf tattoos, and behind them is the rouge Hailyn has been waiting like a lover for.

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