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You look around the festival as it starts to get into full swing, walking past several pavilions and booths giving away all sorts of foods, arts, crafts, clothes, provisions, and the like without success.

Paul, 'the dashing rogue' as Hailyn calls him, is nowhere to be seen.  It's not like him to be this late, but it is entirely probable that he is in fact busy and can't make it to Pasaveer tonight.  But if so, wouldn't he have sent word?  It surely couldn't be beyond his means to send a Message spell or even a carrier pidgeon to tell the group he had arrived at Lake Kershaw and what time they could expect him to arrive in Pasaveer. 

Perhaps - and this is just a hunch - something else is up.

Don't worry about it, and just have fun with the girls

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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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