Greybrook S1|E1 : The New Crop

Greybrook S1|E1

‘The New Crop’ 

The sun is getting lower and the shadows are getting larger in the town of Greybrook. Flinard Candlewick is sipping tea as he watches the setting sun from the window of his reading nook. He glances down at a local paper reading the big bold headline:

SLABCHUCK FAMILY HEIRLOOM STOLEN!!!

The old halfling sighs and folds the paper under his arm. He knows with all his being that the missing heirloom isn’t just an act of simple larceny. The undead and Bryce Thorn are up to something. Flinard downs the rest of his cup before it had cooled enough for gulping. He winces from the hot liquid, but manages not to spit it out.

“Right, then! Time to give the new ones their first mission,” Flinard says to himself as he rings a bell beckoning the new recruits in to his war room/dining room. 

******

The new group of awakened champions gifted with the ability to see the disguised undead in Greybrook enter the room and take their seats.This new crop of champions is a strange batch. Flinard looks over the table and decides to leave Cade, Bonnie, and Vallon out of this first outing. This decision wasn’t made because he didn’t believe in their abilities. It was more of a conservative move. If things go badly tonight, the three of them could possibly come to the aid of the others. 

Cade, Bonnie, and Vallon each get up and leave with mild protest, but go back down in the training rooms deeper underground beneath Flinard’s modest hobbit hole. This left Jorgen Swiftseer, Scribe, Altix Shamik, and the mysterious Wick at the table waiting for Flinard’s orders. 

Wick is a pale man with stark white hair. He is a Shadar-Kai, which is a strange elven race from the Shadowfell. Wick has a sword-fighting style that Flinard has never seen before. Wick’s fervor to kill the undead is both welcomed and a tad terrifying to Flinard. This Shadar-Kai is on a mission from the Raven Queen and she must have awakened him. The first thing he told Flinard was, “I’m on a mission from God.” 

The next three recruits are locals of Greybrook. 

Scribe is a young tiefling woman. Her family owns a map shop in Greybrook. Apparently, she has more demonic blood in her than most of her kind and was “blessed” with sorcerous magic and the awakening. Flinard found her killing her first zombie in front of the town library. Scribe is more concerned with study than the actual fight and, with her powers still being new to her, she opts to use more practical methods such as her crossbow. Flinard figures Scribe’s demonic bloodline and intensive studying of the occult was the reason for her awakening. 

Jorgen Swiftseer is a human man raised by a dwarf and a gnome. They taught him the craft of the artificer and the dwarf even created Jorgen a mechanical eye to replace the real one Jorgen had lost as child when his birth parents were killed. Jorgen’s awakening sadly came as a result of his foster-fathers meeting a similar fate as his birth parents, but their spirits imbued his mechanical eye with the awakening and his mechanical cat named Geary. Flinard is uneasy around the feline contraption as it was the very thing that led Jorgen to his doorstep. 

Then, there is Altix “Fuzzfire” Shamik. The perpetual partyboy and failed adventurer. He is a gnome that use to adventure with another gnome named Willin, until something tragic happened. After that, Altix became a constant reveler and was a welcomed attraction at parties because of his signature drinks and recreational herbs. One night he tried stopping two men from harassing a young woman, he drunkenly approached them and through his drunken stupor was awakened. Despite Flinard having to save Altix from this encounter, he welcomed Altix into the fold based on his prior reputation of being an accomplished rogue. 

******

Flinard takes a deep breath and sits with his hands flat on the table, “It is time for you four to go out and face the evils of Greybrook. Over this last month, I have taught you everything that I know about the undead out there. Now, it’s up to you. For the last 15 years, I have recruited many others and have seen them all perish. I still have hope that I’ll live to see the day that Greybrook is lifted from this curse.” 

Everyone stares at Flinard as he speaks with hands never leaving the table. Wick was strumming a few strings of this lute-like instrument, but still listening to Flinard’s words. 

Flinard points a finger and the newspaper in the middle of the table, “There has been a notable crime in the Fish Market. A dwarven fishmonger named Slabchuck has had a family heirloom stolen from his boat, but strangely the greedy cuss is not saying what exactly was stolen. Most likely, he is worried someone else will keep it, if retrieved. In my years of doing this, I have learned to not let these sort of things go unnoticed. Go to the Fish Market and try to find out what was stolen from the fishmonger. Also, kill any zombies on the way.” 

“Why?” Wick barks at Flinard as he rests his instrument on the table. 

Flinard takes one hand off of the table, “What is that, Mr. Wick?”

Wick stands with his head bent down to avoid the ceiling of the hobbit hole, “Why investigate some crime? I’m here to kill the undead and that’s what I plan to do.” 

“Mr. Wick as I have told several times over the last month. These zombies aren’t ordinary. They are organized and plotting dangerous things in this town. What they took from Slabchuck is only going to make them more dangerous,” Flinard places his hand flat on the table again. 

Wick grins, “Oh, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

Jorgen, Scribe, and Altix have no idea who Slabchuck is because none of them made regular visits to the Fish Market. The three of them look at Wick as he makes his way to the door. Jorgen stands as Wick reaches for the knob. Wick isn’t startled, but alarmed when he hears a tiny knock from the door. 

Wick looks over his shoulder at the group and summons shadows to swirl around him. He opens the door and uses it as shield for whatever maybe on the other side while unsheathing his scimitar. Jorgen is hunched over and barely out of his seat when a small half-elven girl comes running into the dining room. She is crying and asking for help. 

Jorgen sits and gently asks, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Wick dampens his shadows and sheathes his sword. 

The tiny girl is talking a mile a minute, “My parents are missing and a guard is looking for me! He’s a small, ugly man!” 

Scribe and Atlix say almost simultaneously, “WHAT do you mean by UGLY?!”

Wick is a touch annoyed, “How do you know your parents are missing?”

“And who are they?” Jorgen adds with a concerned look in his normal eye. His mechanical cat, Geary, tries to soothe the young girl, but only unsettles her. 

“They said they would be right back and they’ve been gone for a whole day! We were going to leave Greybrook because of all the ugly people,” the half-elven girl is clutching her stomach from hunger pains. 

Scribe offers her popcorn and the young girl starts gobbling it up. Altix takes a cue from Geary’s attempt to make the young girl smile and shows her his pet squirrel, Bitters. The little girl stops eating and lets popcorn fall from her mouth, but she isn’t amused by the forest rodent. Bitters quickly retreats back in Altix’s coat after seeing Geary looking at him. 

Jorgen repeats himself after the girl swallows a few more mouthfuls, “Who are your parents?”

“My family owns The Golden Thread. We sell the best clothes in town. They said that they needed to go to the shop and they’d be back and then we would all leave together!” the little girl starts crying again. 

Altix immediately recognizes the name of the shop, but the name of the owners escapes his recollection. To everyone’s surprise, Flinard has dozed off with his hands and face flat on the table. 

Wick snaps at the old halfling, “FLINARD! Wake up! Do you know this girl’s parents?!”

Flinard pops his head up as though someone threw cold water on him, “WHAA!!?? Who the hell is she?!” 

Scribe reiterates that last few moments to Flinard. Wick shakes his head at the old halfling. 

“This ugly man. Was he dead?” Flinard bluntly questions the girl. 

She starts the cry and nods her head yes. 

“So young and awakened? Intriguing,” Flinard has a small grin as he looks down the table at her, “Well, what is your name and how did you know to come here.” 

The group all look at each in utter amazement that they never asked the young girl her name. 

“I’m Aurorka Ithrana and my parent’s own The Golden Thread. I saw you kill an ugly woman once. My parents didn’t believe me until I showed them other ugly people,” Aurorka replies.

“What do you mean you “showed” them?” the aperture of Jorgen’s mechanical eye widening as his real eye narrowed. 

“I took them down an alley were some ugly men were... eating,” Aurorka looks to the floor, “Daddy killed them. Daddy’s a good fighter.” 

“And there’s a small dead guard looking for you. Small like me, yes?” Flinard’s eyes narrow a bit. 

Aurorka nods again. 

Wick impatiently draws his sword, “What should we do? Go look for this girl’s parents or go do the town guard’s job with the robbery?” 

Flinard breathes heavily, “Go find this girl’s parents. The Fish Market is on the way to The Golden Thread, but the Ithrana’s are more important. There are usually no coincidences. I’m almost positive Slabchuck’s heirloom will pop up where you find the Ithrana’s. Aurorka will stay here with me. It might be wise to find out what that heirloom is, though. I don’t care how you do it. You all make your own decisions out there. Just survive.”  

******

Wick storms out of the hobbit hole in one of his fighting stances as the others quicken their pace to catchup. The group decides to stick to the main streets as they make their way to The Golden Thread. The nightlife is quiet and there’s not much going on after the sunset. The streets are lit by dim oil lamps that are attended to by the town’s lamplighters. 

They approach the entrance of the Fish Market. All the shops are closed and the sales carts emptied. Wick and Scribe notice three men working the docks. Wick notices that they are zombies and the bag that two of them are carrying is leaving a bloody trail that the third zombie is mopping up. 

“They’re zombies and they have a bloody bag,” Wick almost says with glee as he unsheathes his scimitar. 

Altix being a bit of a pacifist retorts, “Fish guts are bloody. They’re probably just doing their day job.”

Wick snarls, “I’m here to do one job. Kill undead.” 

Jorgen wipes his mechanical eye, “Oh, shit. Here we go.” 

“Sure,” Scribe nonchalantly follows Jorgen and Wick towards the three fisherman zombies. 

Wick is well ahead of the group and approaches the zombies holding the bag, “Hello, do you know when I can get the really good catches?!”

The closest zombie looks at Wick, “What? The market is closed comeback in the morning!”

“No, I don’t think you understand. Where’s the really good stuff?” Wick is attempting to a strange tactic to confuse his opponents before battle, but fails. 

The zombies all stare at each other. The two drop the bag and expose the all fish heads and guts that they were going to throw into the Crackle River. 

“I fucking told you!” Altix shakes his head and crosses his arms.

Scribe shoots her crossbow at the zombie holding the mop, but misses and her bolt goes sailing into the Crackle River. 

The mop holding zombie laughs, “They are awakened, boys. And they’re new.” 

The closest one to Wick says, “I was getting a bit hungry,” the zombie takes a swing at Wick, but the Shadar-Kai dodges the blow. 

Altix only feigns interest in fighting as the mop holding zombie advances upon him and attacks with the business end of the mop. The gnome rogue’s face is covered in fish blood and a tiny trickle of his own from his nose. 

Wick does a fancy flurry with his scimitar and hacks down on the closest zombie’s shoulder. It grunts in pain as the blade makes a sucking sound as it exits its decaying flesh. The furtherest zombie stares at its “friend’s” wound, “Bloody hell! Are we sure they’re new?!”

Next, it is Jorgen’s turn. He braces himself as he adjusts the aperture of this mechanical eye to the size of a pinpoint and it begins to glow. A fiery torrent ushers out of his eye and strikes the zombie already hurt by Wick. 

The furthest zombie steps up, but misses Wick with a haymaker and Wick bares down for the second time on the closest zombie’s shoulder. Same spot, but deeper. Once again the furthest zombie exclaims, “By the gods, I think we bit off more than we can chew, Greg!” 

Altix decides to slice the mop zombie behind the knees as it tries to swing the mop at Scribe. The tielfling decides to give her magic a try and unleashes a ray of frost into the mop zombie’s face making its nose fall off. Altix’s attack found its purchase as well and forcing the mop zombie down to one knee. 

Wick pulls his scimitar free from the zombie that is closest to him and it lets out a small moan as it turns to ash. The furthest zombie decides to make a run for it leaving its last “comrade” to fend for itself. 

Jorgen takes a shot at the now running zombie and blasts it right in the back with another fiery bolt from his eye. The zombie manages to stay upright and continues its retreat.

Altix decides to take pity on the mop zombie and knocks it out, “It wasn’t doing anything evil until we messed with it.” 

Scribe is puzzled by Altix’s actions, but coincides and lets the zombie lay on the cobblestone. 

Wick smiles as he lunges toward the running zombie and blips out of view only to appear 30 feet closer to the zombie and closes the distance, but misses horribly with his scimitar and it goes flying out of his hand. The Shadar-Kai’s heart skips a beat as the blade stops just before it would have fallen into the Crackle River. 

Jorgen sees this companions just standing over the mop zombie and not killing it. He walks over and shoots a concentrated eye beam down upon it. 

“Yeeeeah,” Scribe lazily says as she shoots the unconscious mop zombie as well with her ray of frost. 

It burns, then freezes, and then turns to ash as Altix sighs in slight disapproval. 

The running zombie stops as it hears Wick’s blade skid across the cobblestone. It laughs as it turns with another haymaker, but again misses the wily swordsman. Wick quickly draws his longsword and stabs the zombie in the gut. Then, Jorgen shoots it with a fire bolt from his eye. The zombie goes down to one knee as Wick pierces its head with his longsword and drives it down to the pavement. The final zombie turns to ash as a town guard comes running down the dock. 

“Wha-What’s gonna here?!” the guard blurts while trying to catch his breath. 

The whole group makes up awful lies that don’t match up. The guard gives them a sideways look and laughs, “Look! I was young once too. Fun is fun, but you all could get hurt out here.”

“Young? How are old you?” Wick sheathes his longsword. 

The guard states, “I’m 47, young master.” 

Wick stands up from retreiving his scimitar, “I’m 83, you child.” Wick walks toward the main street out of the Fish Market. 

“Fucking elves!” the guard gripes. Then, the guard sees Altix’s face covered in blood and smelling of rotten fish guts, “By the gods! What happened to you? You smell worse than my grandmother’s twat!!!”

“And how do you know what your grandmother’s twat smells like?” Altix retorts as he wipes the muck from his face. 

The guard pauses, but eventually laughs, “GO. HOME. All of you.” He walks down the dock towards the way he came. 

******

The awakened walk the quiet streets all the way to The Golden Thread. They all notice shadowy figures moving inside the store, but it’s too dark and obscured by old wavy glass to make out the figures. 

Altix crawls under the store on his belly through a small opening he found near the front entrance. The Golden Thread has only one floor and no basement. Altix is literally under the floorboards of the store. 

Wick slides around back quieter than a shadow growing at dusk. He finds an open window in the back that allows him to hear the conversation of the figures inside. He also finds a blood trail leading off from the store’s backdoor to the Gladfolk Forest off in the distance. 

One of the of shadowy figures grunts, “Keep looking! They came back here for something!” 

Just then, the shadowy figures and Wick hear Scribe yelp from the front of the store as she trips over a fallen branch. The shadowy figures rush to the store front to look out the window. Their stomping feet loosens dust from the floorboards that assault Altix’s nostrils, but he manages not to sneeze. 

Jorgen thinking quickly grabs Scribe about the waist and whispers in her ear, “Go with it.” He swoops her up to her feet and yells, “Babe, you’re too drunk! Take it easy!”

Scribe convincingly acts the part of a drunken women, but the shadowy figures mistaken Jorgen’s bad acting as a young man trying to gain Scribe’s affection.

One shadowy figure, “Ha! The dweeb thinks he’s got a chance with her! Actin’ all nice and sensitive!” 

“Haha! Yeah, he ain’t getting any from that birdy!” the second shadowy figure chortles. 

Still able to hear the conversation from inside the store, Wick rolls his eyes and tries the backdoor to get in. The door practically opens by itself as the doorknob is broken and the door is covered in blood. Wick tiptoes in finding the inventory room filled with lavish materials and silks. Much of it ruined with blood stains. 

The inner door of the inventory room is wide open leading to the actual store. Wick pokes his head in to see that the shadowy figures are actually two zombies. No big surprise. The two zombies are still having fun watching Jorgen and Scribe have their fake drunken fight out front. 

Altix, still under the floorboards, makes his way to be under the zombies. Wick walks to the center of the store, “GOOD EVENING, GENTLEMEN! BUSINESS HOURS ARE CLOSED!!!” 

“Oh, fuck!” Jorgen drops the act and prepares for battle as he hears Wick from inside. 

The two zombies almost jump out of the windows by the surprise as Wick advances upon them. Wick slashes the first zombie and his scimitar briefly ignites with flames singeing the zombie’s decaying flesh. 

Altix stabs the other zombie in the foot through the floorboards. This zombie howls in surprise and stumbles aways leaving a few toes in it’s wake. 

Scribe decides to give her crossbow another try, but the string snaps and her bolt drops to her feet. 

Jorgen tries to see what is going on in the store, but can barely make anything out because of the shadows and commotion. He cracks one of his crossbow bolts and shakes it producing an impressive amount of light. He loads it into his crossbow.  

The zombie stumbling away from Altix’s subterranean attack is assaulted by the sharp edge of Wick’s scimitar. It howls again as it watches the flesh of its shoulder slap the ground at Scribe’s feet when she enters the front doors. It takes a swing at her and lands a heavy fist into her chest. 

Altix tries another attack from below, but this time his dagger doesn’t pierce through the floorboard. Scribe, on the other hand, jabs her hand forward as she lets loose a ray of frost that freezes the zombie’s chest and allows her hand to burst through the poor bastard’s ribcage before it turns to dust. 

Jorgen takes the chance and shoots into the melee from the street. His light-enhanced bolt soars through the air and finds the flesh of the zombie after it crashes through the window. The light from Jorgen bolt illuminates almost the entire store and Altix is partially dazzled by the rays of light piercing through the cracks of the floor. 

Making fast work of the remaining zombie, Wick lops off its head and it turns to dust as Jorgen’s light bolt sticks into the ground. Jorgen makes his way inside and switches the light bolt off with a flick of his wrist. 

Scribe uses a her magic to repair her broken crossbow string. 

“They were looking for something and there’s lots of blood outside,” Wick reports to the group. 

They all search the store, but find nothing. Altix, however, gets a good laugh at some to the “risque” purchases recorded in the store’s register and recognizes the names of some of the buyers. 

******

Wick shows the others the blood trail that he found earlier and they follow it towards the Gladfolk Forest. Altix reminisces about the forest being the place that many young lovers go to for the first time to discover each other’s carnal pleasures. Jorgen and Scribe try to pretend that they can relate to Altix’s experiences, but neither of them have actually been to Gladfolk Forest for anything like that. Scribe studied its flora once and Jorgen harvested materials from the woods on occasion. 

Wick notices that the blood trail ends shortly after a large pool of blood as though whomever was bleeding had time to patch themselves up. With the blood trail gone cold, Wick was ready to make his way back to town to find more zombies. Scribe stops him and points at the edge of the woods as a small elven woman comes running out. 

She’s breathing heavily and holding her shoulder in pain. 

Approaching with little restraint, Wick asks the elven woman, “Are you okay? What happened to you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you,” She says in a raspy voice as the others approach her.

Wick introduces himself with full name, “My name is J’hen Zahd.” He stares past the elven woman into the forest. 

She doesn’t recognize the heritage of the name, but she understands his respectful gesture, “My name is Lia Ithrana. My husband is missing.”

“We figured. Your daughter came to us for help,” Altix steps up from behind Wick. 

“My baby?! Aurorka is okay?!” Lia breathes a sigh of relief. 

Scribe looks into the forest as well, “She told us the “ugly” people must have gotten you. We can see the ugly people too.” 

Lia relaxes a bit, “Thank the gods above! The undead men took my husband into the forest. I’ll show you the way. Marty doesn’t have much longer.” Lia goes to grab Wick’s sheathed longsword, but he stops her. 

“Always ask,” Wick utters while tightening his grip on her wrist, “You may use it for now.” He lets go of Lia and present her with the blade. 

The five of them enter the Gladfolk Forest to find Marty Ithrana. 

******

The Gladfolk Forest is dense and the paths are narrow. Any ranged attacks would have trouble finding their mark. The group walks slowly towards a clearing where the ruins of an old chapel remain. The chapel used to be the townspeople’s favorite place to get married until it was destroyed in a massive storm. The land was bought by a silent party and the chapel never rebuilt. 

A small glow of campfire is visible within the ruins and chanting can be heard. Altix manages to sneak up the closest before he stumbles on some rocks and makes a ruckus. The chanting zombie stops to investigate, but Altix uses his ability to make animal noises to great effect and the zombie believes it to be some naughty squirrels. 

The zombie returns to the fire and starts chanting a verse from a book. Scribe is only able to make out a few words such as darkness, hate, and rebirth because the language is mixed with Infernal, but something entirely its own. Jorgen can see a man laying on the ground and another zombie with an ornate knife carving runes into the man’s flesh with glee. 

As the chanting zombie raises his voice, a large red crystal begins to glow slightly. Jorgen decides to take his shot with a fiery blast from his mechanical eye and hits the chanting zombie in shoulder, but the zombie continues chanting and has a firm grasp on the book. “Finish it!” the chanting zombie yells at the carving zombie. 

The red crystal flashes and the carving zombie plunges the ornate dagger into the dying man’s chest. 

“MARTY!!!” Lia leaves Wick’s side and runs to her husband’s convulsing body. 

The carving zombie steps back as the Lia rushes the zombie with Wick’s longsword. She misses the undead madman. 

Altix sneaks up on the chanting zombie and stabs it deep into the small of its back. The zombie tries to make a quick elbow at the gnome’s head, but overexerts itself and cracks its back something awful. Wick throws a dart into the chanting zombie’s side and barrels into the fray. 

Scribe cast a minor illusion making it look like she summoned a wall between the carving zombie and Lia. The carving zombie is confused by the illusion and backs away. Jorgen tries to shoot the carving zombie with a fire bolt from his eye, but misses and ignites a small tree into flames. 

Lia drops Wick’s sword as she looks upon her husband’s writhing form. Magical energies crackled all throughout Marty Ithrana’s body momentarily making the runes glow in his skin. Jorgen steps closer to assess the situation of Marty’s remains. 

Scribe shoots a ray of frost at the chanting zombie and it turns to dust allowing the book to fall to the ground. She quickly runs up to snatch the book. Meanwhile, Altix chucks his knife at the remaining zombie. His knife goes sailing into the air in a large arc, but the zombie only stares in wonder as the dagger plunges into its arm. 

“Fuck it. The job’s done.” the zombie tosses down the ornate knife and begins to step away from the group with his back to the forest. 

Jorgen decides to charge up his eye to blast the glowing remains of Marty Ithrana, but Lia dives onto of her husband’s body. 

“Please, Marty! Wake up!” Lia cries. 

Jorgen warns her, “Listen, lady. I’m giving you one chance to get out of the way.”

Lia shouts, “You were stop to save him!!”

Marty’s body stops convulsing and he rests his hand of Lia’s shoulder, “Honey, it’s quite alright. I’ve never felt better in my whole life.” He shoves her out of the way and moves lightening fast. 

Jorgen tries to shoot Marty with a fire bolt and Altix launches another one of his daggers at the reanimated Marty. Both miss their mark. Jorgen’s fire bolt strikes another tree. 

Marty escapes into the forest with the sound of his laughter fading into the darkness. 

Not to let too many undead survive, Wick throws another dart into the escaping zombies throat and Scribe follows up with a ray of frost. The zombie smiles as his neck cracks from the ice and the force of the dart, “We did our job.” The zombie turns to ash. 

Altix wanders over to pick up the ornate knife. It has many jewels and the handle is a tad gaudy being in the shape of a mermaid’s golden body. The knife blade is silver and has a wicked sharp edge. 

Scribe inspects the red crystal that was used in the ritual. She saves bits of it even though it is quite obviously destroyed and has no value. She also stows the book the chanting zombie was reading into her pack. 

“Well, let’s take you back to your daughter,” Jorgen suggests to Lia. 

She nods and wipes away tears. 

The group walks away from the Gladfolk Forest as the fire from Jorgen’s eye beams continues to collect more trees as victims. 

******

They get to Flinard’s hobbit hole without incident. Lia rushes into Aurorka’s arms and kisses her a thousand times. Flinard is at the dining room table sipping tea. 

“Where is the girl’s father?” Flinard looks to the group for answers. 

“He was turned into an undead,” Wick admits. 

“With this,” Altix shows Flinard the mermaid knife. 

Flinard examines the knife, “No doubt, that is the missing heirloom of Slabchuck. Anything else?”

Scribe empties her pack spilling the crystal shards and the book onto the table, “the zombies used this book too.”

Flinard grabs the book and walks to his room, “Interesting. Keep the knife or return it. I don’t care. Obviously, the zombies only needed it for this ritual that change Mr. Ithrana. You all take the girl and her mother out of town in the morning,” Flinard opens the book as he shuts his door, “Leave me to study this.” 

Lia uses some blankets to make a small comfy spot for Aurorka in Flinard’s reading nook. Lia simply falls asleep in a chair, not too far from Aurorka. 

Scribe, Altix, and Jorgen pass out after all their adrenaline leaves their bodies. Wick walks downstairs to the training rooms and practices his technique until he can barely move his arms. He enters his reverie with both of his blades laid out in front of him and his lute-like instrument in his lap. 

******

A halfling guard whistles as he walks around the Ithranas’ house and peers into the windows. No one appears to be home. He bangs on the windows as loudly and sharply as he could muster. The little girl is definitely not in there. He continues to whistle as he walks out to the street. He stops whistling when he notices the fire coming from Gladfolk Forest. 

“Well, that cannot be good,” the halfling guard thinks he’s speaking to himself, but Marty Ithrana leaps down beside him from a rooftop. 

“Take me to Thorn,” Marty towers over the halfling, “I need weapons. And armor.” 

The halfling guard starts to whistle again and beckons Marty to follow him.