Interlude 01

Denny

Denny sat with Garth at a small table in the back corner of the ‘Dusty Trail,’ the only drinking establishment this close to the Narrows. The place was darkening, and one of the barmaids circled the tables to light candles. Noise could be heard from numerous conversations all around them. Nothing interesting, Denny thought as he listened and sipped at his elderberry mead. He barely even wanted the drink. Two days had passed since the death of his companions, and the pain was still making him sick to his stomach. Garth, on the other hand, was nearly finished with his third, and it was beginning to look like it would be all Denny could do to keep the big man from brawling again.

A few more days of travel and the two would arrive at the ‘Chesswoood outpost,’ where Denny and Garth could report to General Arden. The grizzled hero would, of course, be disappointed by the failed quest to take the ruby crystal. The Crystal was one of four that presided within the narrows. Justara’s alliance had control of only one, the emerald. This was the stalemate that had been going on for nearly two hundred years. Each Crystal provided the people who controlled it a boon, the emerald being a five percent boost to agility. Justara’s alliance lost the ruby just over a decade ago, giving the enemy a boost of strength. The problem now was that the enemies within the Narrows now controlled three of the four boons, creating the nearly impossible task of defeating the dread-fiends that the Devourer places to protect its crystals. Were the enemy to control the fourth and final Crystal, the gateway to the lands of the North would be open, and all life and peace under Justara would be under threat of being devoured by that of the same name.

Denny examined his companion. Garth stared down into his mug, a tiny bit of foam on the beard of his upper lip. His long hair was roughly tied in a knot, but strands escaped it and hung down, obscuring his face more in the already dark corner. “Garth, we will be ok. We all knew the risks; it was the life we chose. The memory of them will live on within us.” Denny said and then sipped his mead. “We will get revenge, if, if its the last thing we do.” He said more to himself than to the big man.

Garth took a long swig of his drink and wiped the foam away with his sleeve. “Yeah, I know Den.” Garth paused for a few seconds. “But,” He let out a loud belch. “How Den. Jus the two us can’t get back down there, an who the fuck is goin' ta join two failed heroes?”

“I think you underestimate the significance of being survivors of the ruby DreadFiend. Warbands from all over the Narrows are going to want our knowledge. Of the cave system, of the fiend itself.” Denny said, trying to lift Garth’s spirits. It was a pointless gesture; the big man would deal with it in his own way, most like by brawling with some unlucky bar patron.

“Maybe,” Garth muttered and finished off his mug. “I’m getting another.”

Garth got up and pushed his way through the crowded bar, clearly annoying a group of Dwarves. “Another!” Garth exclaimed as he slammed his empty mug on the bar top. Brigit, the human barkeep, put another mug in front of Garth; she held onto it while Garth grabbed it, inducing eye contact between them.

“DON’T go messin' up my establishment Garth. Last night was enough.” She said with enough tension in her voice to make the big man back down a little.

“Aright Brigg,” Garth uttered, and Brigit let him take the drink.

While this exchange of words occurred, Denny continued to listen to the other adventurers at the tables close by. “I hear Justara got a new batch of chosen just the other day.” Said a halfling to the left of him. “Bigger than any before. I don’t know how much stock to put into the rumor, but if its true, could be a big boost. Well, once they make their way south.”

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The rowdy table to the right was playing a drinking game. Seemed the dwarven warrior was about to win. His opponent, a thin human man who looked to wear the garb of a hunter, seemed quite close to falling off his stool. Nothing interesting there. Denny thought to himself. Interesting if true about Justara’s new adventurers though. Denny sipped again as Garth sat down across from him. “All good?” Denny asked

“Yeah, all good Den. It’s just, you know, hard.” Garth sighed. “I’ll be good tonight. Tomorrow, we should leave and head up to Chesswood. I’m done feelin' down, Den.”

“Good idea, I think I’ve learned enough from the chatter,” Denny mentioned. “Apparently, Justara’s got a new batch of chosen.”

“Good,” Garth said. “We’re gonna need ‘em.”

With that, the two veterans sat in silence, comfortable with just having each other's company. They both finished their mead and went up to the second floor, where the room they had rented for the last two nights was.

It was another restless sleep for Denny, but he managed more of it than the night before. Two days travel and General Arden would know what they should do, was what Denny continued to tell himself. He hoped it was true.

***

The following day, the two heroes began the journey to ‘Chesswood.’ Having lost their mounts days ago in the Narrows, they had to walk. The road was empty for most of the journey on the first day, passing only one Warband, made up of two elvish casters, a dwarven warrior, and two humans, one looking to be a hunter, and the other a rouge of some kind. The elven druid, who seemed to be the leader, asked, “Only two? Is it that bad in there?” referring to the Narrows. Everyone knew the enemy was growing stronger; it was a slow growth, but over time, small things turned large.

“We had a tough go,” Garth replied. “Lost three at the ruby.”

“You, you made it to the ruby? I haven’t heard of anyone getting there in years.” The Elf climbed down from his horse. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Lutharis; it is an honor to meet you both.” He stuck out his hand to shake, and when Garth reached out, Lutharis grabbed him by the forearm, a form of respect among the elvish.

“Garth, this here is Den.” Garth introduced.

“Denny,” Denny corrected.

“Well, Garth, Denny, I am profoundly sorry about your companions. However, anything you can tell us about the ruby would be useful. If you can spare it?” Lutharis asked.

Garth gave a slight shrug and indicated his small companion. Denny looked up to Lutharis. “I can’t tell too much. The cave system is confusing, with many ways to the bottom. Once there, though, you will want as much fire resistance as possible.”

“Hmm, yes, that we can get,” Lutharis said with a nod at the dwarven warrior. Denny assumed that the man was a skilled crafter who could make fire-resistant armor or items.

“Other than that, I, I suppose the few damaging hits we were able to get on the demon were agility-based. Uh, come to think of it, maybe poisons.” Denny added.

“Well, considering Justara’s final Boon is the Emerald, this should help,” Lutharis said. “I appreciate the information. It will be some time until we venture that deep in the narrows. But, when we do, it will help. Will you share mid-meal with us?”

Denny looked to Garth, who nodded. The Two spent a few hours with the Warband. The Hunter named Jarrod made a nice meal of seared venison, along with some nuts and apples. The group talked about the quest they had been given, to clear out a large grouping of devourer forces nearing the emerald and to recover a particular item the army’s leader, a powerful warlock by the name of Harchibal, is holding. Apparently, the warlock carries an all-seeing eye, a type of magical stone that can show glimpses of the past, present, and very rarely the future. An extremely rare item. Denny brought up the news he had heard about Justara’s new chosen, which was welcome news to the five adventurers, as everyone in the south knew of the growing forces pushing towards the last Crystal.

The groups parted ways, Lutharis and his Warband heading to danger, Denny and Garth north towards the Chesswoood. The rest of that first day passed in near silence until Denny stopped and began starting a fire at one of the set-out camps that travelers used close to the road. Garth began gathering more wood, and the two sat by the fire and passed a wineskin between them. They ate little, and soon, both men fell asleep under the canopy of the forest, a few stars twinkling between branches. The next day would bring a clear path for the two to follow, which brought a small form of comfort to both men.